iwantghostsbigdick - Tumblr blog

[iwantghostsbigdick]

IM NEW TO TUMBLR AND I SUCK AT WRITING SO GIVE ME TIPS!!!!

you and ghost have to camp out in a very small tent after a mission and he gets all cuddly and soft cause he doesn't like the cold

you scoffed, and slowly shifted into the middle of the bed; wrapping the small amount of covers over yourself- (before theyre snatched away) as you heard the little pitter-patter of the rain hitting against the outside of the tent, how the fog outside crept indoors, making the tent feel icy. Ghosts low gravelly voice growled out from under the balaclava as he leaned up on his arms.

"The rain won’t let up soon. It’s suppose' to d' this for the entire week. The snow' will soon folla.” he said, his mood growing darker as he looked at you.

"I don’t want to sleep near you. Move furtha' over.” he huffed. (def placing up a strong barrier to seem tuff!!)

"Im against the wall of the tent, I'm getting wet." you hiss, glaring at him through his balaclava, obviously taking up more space than he should.

He huffs out a scoff, "Good.” he says in a thick accent in response to your glare. He was laying on his side, only his icy eyes visible.

"You bloody deserve it. If y' moved over more, maybe I’d consida letting y' under th' covers tonigh'.” he added. His tone was sharp and cold, unbothered by the cold weather. He acted like he didnt seem to be phased by it.

His words dug deep, like a knife stabbed into you, but not just deep- it was rooted, and twisting, plunging deeper and staying in that spot painfully.

It hurt to be spoke to like that from someone you respect.

He sat up as you scooted over to the side of the tent, his tone still cold, though the gravelly british accent was softer as he tried to get as close to you as he could without having to lay next to you.

"Don’t gi'me tha' look..” he mumbled, though his voice was a little hard to understand under the balaclava.

Ghost couldn't help but feel a little pity as he glared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His arms stretched out, a little shiver running through his body. With how close you were, you could feel his warmth radiating off of him.

For a moment, Simon thought of when he was a child, how his father treated him, how he was left to rot and freeze.

How he felt abandoned.

His arm extended, a little gesture for you to come closer to him as he saw you shiver.

He was still keeping his balaclava on, but you could tell from the way his expression softened that he was concerned for you.

"Com' ere. You can’t sleep in the cold.” he sighed, his tone still cold, though it was a kinder cold than you had heard from him yet.

Though, his words before stuck in your brain. *If you move over, maybe I’ll consider letting you be under the covers tonight.*

So, you watched as he sat there, not moving, eyes still sharp through the balaclava, but the cold tone gone, the heat radiating off of him made the tent warmer, though still cold.

There was silence between the two of you, Ghost laying there, patiently, waiting for you to comply with his silent gestures.

The balaclava gave him a dark look, like he was glaring through your soul, despite the warmth radiating from his body.

The tent wasn’t large, but with the two of you so close, the warmth was a nice contrast to the chill air. As you inched toward him, his arms moved around you. He wrapped them tight around you, and your body was finally out of the cold air. His body heat flooded over you as you could feel his warm fog against your skin. But Ghost didn't let you out of his grasp,

No, he pulled you closer as his arms wrapped around you. You could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. He squeezed you tight as he kept you close to him. The rain continued to pelt against the tent as Simon lay with you. He was quiet, he didn't say anything. But this wasn't an awkward type of quiet, this was a good quiet. He didn't need to groan, or scoff, or mumble curses..

He didn't need to. For the first time in a long time, he was content just to hold someone in his arms, to have someone in his presence. His grip was firm on you. His embrace was tight, yet he relaxed with you in his arms.

You could feel his shoulders drop, and his breathing become more shallow and he held you against his vest, like you were a part of him, you were his savior, his lifeline.

(I WROTE THIS IN 45 MINS)

[iwantghostsbigdick]

>Simon has a neet weirdo as a best friend Or Simon Riley lets his best friend see his naked body for art references.

This wasn't the way Simon was expecting to spend his PTO; naked in his best friend's bed with his hand covering his soft cock, hoping not to make you uncomfortable as you took notes of his body's reactions.

“Can you like... get hard?” He was trying his best not to get hard, going as far as to think about gross things he's seen throughout the years to distract himself from the feeling of your nails raking up and down his bare stomach, defined muscles tensing and bulging beneath your palm.

“'S not how it works.” He grumbled out, tired brown eyes looking away from you. Simon isn't embarrassed— not at all, he's simply not used to someone inspecting him the way you are, curious eyes fully focused on his body, taking in every single tattoo and scar, living proof of how many times he's kicked death's ass.

“Well, just think about... I don't know, tits.” He lets out a dry chuckle at the awkwardness in your tone, trying your best to keep it professional in the name of art. He looks down at you with pure amusement the moment he sees your hand drifting up, tracing the outline of his defined, muscular pecs.

You take a second to fully admire the view in front of you, absent-mindedly starting to play with his erect nipple, not registering the way his breath hitches. Simon looks like a gladiator— lightly tanned skin making his rippling muscles stand out greatly, becoming the virtual image of ancient Greek fantasies, a plethora of scars showing how often he crosses the edge of death.

“Gettin' a bit touchy there.” His playful tone doesn't save the mild embarrassment, about to let go of his nipple before his rough, calloused hand grasps your wrist, encouraging you to keep touching him.

“'S working.” Simon's other hand moves out of the way slightly, just barely enough for you to see his hardening cock, veins starting to become more prominent along his long, meaty shaft. He doesn't protest when you move his hand out of the way, getting a perfect look at him.

“That's... oddly interesting.” The awkwardness coming from you never fails to amuse him, only making his ego inflate by the second, even when you look down at your notebook to keep taking notes of his body's reactions.

“Does it feel weird to get a boner?” He thinks about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, holding back a laugh at the blunt questions. In the name of art, she says.

“Not weird, just... I don't know, bird.” The expectant look that you give him distracts him for a second, trying to think of a better way to explain it.

“Feels good. Bit tingly most of the time, and you can feel it... y'know, grow.” Explaining what getting a boner feels like isn't the weirdest thing he's done for you, half-lidded brown eyes focused on the way you simply nod and keep taking notes, using his words as inspiration for the erotic novels he knows you write.

The room is almost quiet for a few minutes, Simon's breathing becoming harder being the only sound, feeling your soft hands caressing every single inch of his skin, feeling him up more than he can take... and ultimately edging him without even being aware, stopping to take notes every once in a while.

“I can show you how a man jacks off, too. For the sake of art, yeah?”

[iwantghostsbigdick]

Someone sent this to my inbox but

Simon X Uniform kink!reader🥴🩷

Normally, when Simon gets home, his first port of call is stripping off his balaclava, changing from his uniform. He leaves Ghost at the door. Your quiet, peaceful home shouldn’t be tainted by the shadow of death that lingers perpetually at his back.

To him, there’s a stigma around Ghost, around his whole career, making a life out of ending others’. Ghost gets left in the threshold of your entrance hall, dropped onto the welcome home mat and replaced by Simon. To you, it’s impossible to ignore the way he looks darkening your doorstep like death incarnate, so powerful, the epitome of brute, primal human strength. He exudes such power, such masculinity. It makes you feel weak in the most wonderful way.

Just once, you find yourself pleading for him to leave his uniform on, to let Ghost in. To take away the stigma of the thing that haunts your life. With tentative agreement and a hand on the small of your back, you’re guided back to the bedroom.

You know that Ghost will be rough, not like the soft, gentle dominance of Simon - who knows that he barely has to lift a finger to have you pliant under his touch. Ghost believes in no such thing. Ghost is a killer. A violent man who has no concept of gentleness or grace. If you want Ghost to fuck you, he’ll fuck you halfway to hell and back. The way you’re thrown down onto the bed is only a testament to how unyielding Ghost is, shredding your panties with his teeth without a word, just a growl of agreement when he sees you glistening wet.

There’s no warning when he plunges two fingers into your glistening pussy, his nails digging into the curve of your side when you cry out, a warning - a threat. He doesn’t take off his bulletproof vest, doesn’t flinch when you wrap your fingers in the velcro straps, only looking down at you with cruel knowing. Before you know it, he’s yanking down his fly, hardly bothering to pull down his jeans. He doesn’t need to. Ghost is tactical. Ghost doesn’t care for feelings.

The way his cock springs from his boxers, hard up against his abdomen, had you flinching. He makes you nervous. This Ghost is worlds away from your Simon, and it’s easy to see why people fear him so much.

You’re tempted to whine when he notches his tip against your already sensitive clit, quickly silenced by his fingers covered in your taste filling your mouth leaving you almost shamefully gagging, tears springing to your eyes.

“Been practically beggin’ me to fuck you for days now and now you’re whinin’?” He growls cruelly into your ear, his free hand finding your hip to position you. You don’t get a chance to think before his tip is thumping painfully into your cervix, leaving you crying out as you claw at his vest, his mask, anything to keep some semblance of control. He keeps a brutal pace, cruel taunts mixing with praise for how well you take him, what a perfect slut you are.

His hand pressing down slightly on the bulge in your tummy is what sends you over the edge, Simon’s brown eyes melting into stars and blinding white light as he pulls out of you, pumping his shaft and spurting ropes of hot cum on your abdomen, leaving the both of you heaving.

Ghost trickles down the shower drain along with sweat and dirt and cum, Simon washing your hair carefully as you lean your head into the crook of his neck, letting hot water pummel down your back.

“I love you. All of you.” You confess into his skin, finally content to have seen all of Simon. Not just the nice bits.

[iwantghostsbigdick]

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

“I showed you my fish pls respond”

would you swipe right on him???

oh and happy valentines ;)

[iwantghostsbigdick]

RAAAHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE HIM

warning: Sucking Simon's dick like crazy, that's it.

Suckin Simon's dick so good he starts beggin'

Simon's grabbing the sheets for dear life. He looks like a pornstar. With his cheeks flushed, and hair sticking to his forehead. But you think he's more like a mutt. With how he pants like an animal in heat.

You're between his thighs like you've made a home there. He's already cummed twice, but he feels a third rushing when you started cupping his balls. One hand playing with them while the other strokes at his firm stomach. His mind struggling on what to pay attention to.

But despite it all he can't look away. Like a siren, you lured him out to sea. And now he's getting lost in your eyes. In the way you look. So pretty, jus' fucking your throat on his dick like it's yours. The thought of you owning him brings on a sick type of euphoria that has him curling his toes.

You suddenly pulled away and he almost cries at the loss. His dick is covered top to bottom in your saliva, and you can't help but admire how pretty it looks. You blow air into his tip and it makes his hips buck. Fucking into the air. Fat cock twitching at not being able to feel you. His tip exuding an impressive amount of precum. Swollen and red that it almost looks painful. You let the moment drag on, minimizing your actions to just giving kisses to his pretty cock. And it has him choking on his own spit, all but pleading with you to take him back into your mouth again.

"Shit.....Hurt's not being able to feel you around it, doll. Please, jus' need it inside again..."

a/n: This is short and not proofread 😕 But I couldn't do much, considering how I decided to write about giving a blowjob to a fictional man in front of my mom. Yeah. Hope you like this more than I do, lovies! I might jus' make a longer version of this in the future!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[iwantghostsbigdick]

@naivegh0ul writing about Mommy kink Simon has been rotting my brain like a parasite.

Like fuckin hell, you’d be riding him, his hands on your hips pulling you down as he thrusts up into you and his poor little head would be too fucked out and dizzy to comprehend the words he says.

His mouth open and eyes half lidded, he says “fuck mommy mmph, feel so good.”

And you slow down a little bit, smirk on your face.

“What’d you say Si?” You say tilting your head to the side, using his nickname only you call him, knowing it already makes him flustered in the first place.

He looks up at you with his big honey colored puppy eyes that are wide with confusion, trying to remember what he said.

When he remembers, he places his forehead on your shoulder with a groan trying to fuck up into you again hoping it’ll make you forget.

You place one hand on his chest and the other under his chin to tilt his head up to look at you.

You know what he said, you heard it loud and clear, you just wanted him to say it again.

“What’d you say honey?” You asked in the sweetest, softest pitched voice that had him whine in response.

“I-“ he blushes, his cheeks the prettiest shade of pink.

You trace your thumb over his lips.

“I- said mama.” He admits like he was confessing a sin.

“No.” you giggle, “close, but that’s not what you said Si.”

“Mommy.” He whispers breathlessly, and you smile at his honesty.

“I didn’t know you liked that Simmy.” You tilt your head again, smile still plastered on your face, your thumb now tracing over the blush on his cheekbone.

“Go on, say it again.” You start to bounce on him again, nuzzling your head on his shoulder into his neck, whispering praises in his ear.

He tightens his grip on your hips and his eyes roll back.

“Yeah mommy, fuck, just like that, please, fuck me like that.”

[iwantghostsbigdick]

Somethin about referring to konig as a mutt in heat,,, my brain is melting out of my ears

cw: dumbification

könig loves to use dumbification against you.

i'm a true believer könig is incredibly smart, especially in physics, chemistry, maths and english. perhaps art isn't his strong suit, but he'll definitely make you feel stupid for babbling, not being able to string a sentence together while being fucked stupid. :(

each thrust feels like you're in heaven; the fullness and the repetitive thrusts against your ass, your pussy spread out and split apart to take his fat, huge cock. the stretch becomes pleasurable, no longer hurting as you grow adjusted to the feeling, familiar with the feeling of being stuffed full !!!

“take it deep, little mutt... c’mon, i’m sure you can string a sentence together, yes?”

he teases, his cruel form of mockery causing your pussy to throb, glistening around him and dripping with ecstasy as you babble and whine, whimpering and gripping whatever in sight for balance. you moan stupidly, cupping your mouth as he smacks your pretty ass and pushes deeper inside, fucking you like an animal while forcing you to string a proper sentence together. :3

but, you're too drunk off the sensation, crying for more like a hungry, desperate mutt, needy for attention.

[iwantghostsbigdick]

bulge pics will always be hotter than a straight up dick I dont make the rules however I should

[iwantghostsbigdick]

BECOMING THE WOMAN YOU WANT

Imagine the woman you want to become. Envision her embracing a lifestyle woven with healthy habits that radiate positivity and well-being. Picture her waking up early, greeting the day with gratitude, and setting intentions that shape her mindset for success.

In her daily routine, she prioritizes self-care—nourishing her body with wholesome meals, staying hydrated, and indulging in regular exercise that she genuinely enjoys. Whether it's a morning yoga session, an evening run, or a dance class, physical activity is not a chore but a celebration of what her body can achieve.

This woman values the power of mindfulness. Picture her taking moments throughout the day to breathe deeply, practice meditation, or simply appreciate the present. It's in these mindful pauses that she finds clarity, resilience, and a profound connection with herself.

As she moves through her day, healthy habits extend into her work life. This woman is organized and efficient, using time management techniques to tackle tasks without feeling overwhelmed. Regular breaks and moments of reflection help her maintain focus and creativity.

Evenings are a sanctuary for winding down. She cherishes a good night's sleep, prioritizing rest as a cornerstone of her well-being. Unplugging from screens, engaging in calming activities, and maintaining a consistent sleep schedule contribute to the rejuvenation her body and mind need.

Remember, becoming her doesn't happen overnight. It's a gradual process, a collection of intentional choices and persistent efforts. Start incorporating these healthy habits, step by step, and watch as you evolve into the empowered, balanced woman you aspire to be. 🌿💪🌺🌟

[iwantghostsbigdick]

Ghost realising you have a uniform kink, and exploiting the way you melt for him in his gear

Sometimes he comes home before changing on purpose, just to watch the way your smile falls when you meet him at the door and see him in uniform. He picks up on it immediately— your desperation. How your breath catches in your throat and your eyes trail ever so shamelessly down his body, he loves the attention.

The feel of his gloved hands on your skin, on your neck. His uniform being the only thing you see: no safety in Simons familiar body, just the fear Ghost sends coursing through you. His clothed knee wedging your legs apart, totally manhandling you into a desired position. No one there to save you.

Grasping onto his uniform as he pushes inside of you, fingers slipping under his tactical vest as he watches you through that skull mask of his. Trying your best not to make a mess of his clothes, not the ones he works in, the ones that will smell like you by the time he's finished with you regardless.

Making so much noise that he has to cover your mouth with his hand, letting you bite down on his gloves. If he's lucky, you'll leave behind a bite mark to remind him is just what that uniform does to you. A welcome distraction from work.

[iwantghostsbigdick]

if i see one more fic using the ‘your gummy walls’ SHUT THE FU-

[iwantghostsbigdick]

Simon acts all high and mighty, making fun of Soap for being horrendously cheesy and in love with his girlfriend. Always making jabs at the sergeant, rolling his eyes every time you facetime Soap or send him a cute little picture of yourself.

"pull yourself together MacTavish" Ghost bites out when Soap finishes yet another rant of how beautiful you are.

All this and the second Simon gets to his bunk he's frantically pulling down his pants and rutting into his hand like a teenager because you said a simple 'Hi Ghost!' today while on a call with Soap.

Gripping the base of his grithy cock Simon imagines sinking into your wet, fluttering cunt and hammering away until you're so cockdrunk your eyes cross and every single thought leaves your mind.

He can't even feel guilty that he's jerking it to Soap's girl. You are so kind and soft, he really cant help it. His cock pulses in his hand as he imagines you splayed out on his dingy bed, chest heaving and nipples standing at attention. Small whimpers leaving your beautiful mouth and he teases your clit with the head of his cock, his piercing catching on your small hood, sending your knees into a shaking frenzy.

He can almost hear how you'd beg for him to 'just put it in Simon' and he would because how can he say no to such a beautiful creature, all pliant and teary eyed just begging for his thick dick.

Simon wants to think he would go slow, cherish the moment, make you cum at least two times before he can even think about his own release, but the truth is he would be balls deep in the first stroke. wildly plunging in and out of your sopping warmth, selfishly chasing his own high while you moan and writhe underneath his strong figure.

That's how shoots a load onto his stomach, sullying his black shirt. with the image of you looking up at him with teary eyes and begging to 'inside- please Si come inside! f-fill me up'. he goes limp, his hand still holding his softening cock, small spurts of spunk combing through his post orgasmic haze.

When he comes to and his mind stops buzzing he doesn't even feel bad. he knows he would probably never get even a minute alone with you so these fantasies are all he has and they hurt no one so what's there to feel bad about?

[iwantghostsbigdick]

AAAAA PLEAASE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

you can't just give us the image of Simon holding hands during sex, now I need something to sleep on

Simon doesn't fuck— Simon makes love. Passionate kisses are exchanged as the clothes come off at an almost painfully slow pace, taking his time to savor every single second with you, to truly take in just what he's about to do with the woman he knows he'll spend the rest of his life with.

His kisses only stop when he has to take a few seconds to truly admire what's in front of him, to take in the sheer beauty, to look down at you like you're his savior. In many ways, you are. His rough, calloused hands go up to cup your cheeks, gently forcing your face up to keep eye contact as his forehead rests against yours. He swears he can see God every single time he looks into your eyes, ignoring his own reflection and focusing simply on everything they hold; your love, desire, yearning, lust.

You look at him like he's worth something— like he's not a mutt with matted hair who'll end up getting shot in an alleyway out of pure mercy. You look at him like a stray you took in, showing him love and compassion, appreciating the way his fangs are bared at the world but never at you.

He plants the gentlest kiss on your lips before he begins descending, leaving open-mouthed kisses that light fire on their way down. His rough hands are gentle only with you, pushing your body down on the mattress with so much tenderness you swear he thinks you're a rich fine china. He plants kisses down your stomach, eyes closing as he focuses on the sensation of your warmth against his lips, swallowing thickly before he opens your legs.

Teasing kisses and soft bites are given to your inner thighs before his lips finally find what he has been craving like a starved man. One last kiss is pressed to your mound, his tongue coming out of his lips to lick a flat stripe over your already wet cunt, his saliva and your fluids mixing together, giving him the chance to eat you out even better. It doesn't take long before he's latching onto your erect nub, alternating between rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves and suckinf on it, your moaning only encouraging him to keep going.

Your back arches, hand coming down to gently pull on his cropped hair, pushing him even closer to your core, wanting to feel more of the intense sensation. He lets go of your clit for a second, his tongue now more focusing on gathering the wetness all over your entrance before pushing in, his thumb coming up under his face to rub on your clit, doing circular motions as his tongue goes in and out of your cunt.

"Si— need you." Your breathy whisper earns a deep chuckle out of him, planting a kiss on top of your wet cunt before finally breaking away, standing up to his full weight and pulling down his boxers. The sheer sight of his naked body never fails to amaze you no matter how many times you've seen it, his strong, tattooed body bare only for you to see. His vulnerability is and will always be reserved for a single woman; you.

He plants a soft kiss for your lips as he lines himself up, his cock big and heavy, veins visible on the length of his shaft, but he has trained you well enough to be able to take him. He sinks into you slowly, allowing you to get used to the stretch as he bottoms out, the small gasp that comes out of your lips is enough to make his eyes drift up to your face, taking in your expression. He sees nothing but pleasure, but he doesn't keep going until you nod your head and pull him closer.

His thrusts are deep and slow, hips rolling to make sure every single inch of his cock is buried all the way inside you, a thin layer of cream forming on the base of his shaft. He supports his weight with one of his elbows, not dropping his full weight on you yet in fears of hurting you, hips rolling over yours slightly faster to hear more of your whiny moans, his thin lips planting loving kisses all over your neck while his hand blindly seeks for yours, slight desperation in his actions, needing to hold onto you like a lifeline as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge.

His hand finally finds yours, fingers intertwining, squeezing softly to display love and reassurance; to bring both of you even closer while your bodies are connected, skin slapping against skin and combined moans forming a melody he thinks about often while he's away. His tongue licks a flat stripe over your pulse before his face seeks shelter on the crook of your neck, muffled moans and deep grunts playing right into your ear. Your legs wrap around his waist, fitting oh so perfectly like a missing puzzle piece, bringing him even closer to your throbbing cunt.

"Fuck, love—" The pressure of your thighs grows, both of you not even managing to form sentences between moans yet the squeezes you deliver to each other's hands are enough to communicate. Your walls tighten up around him, velvety tissue shortly being painted white with his thick cum, feeling him go all the way inside to make sure not a single drop is wasted.

He pulls out slowly after a few seconds of regaining your breath, planting a soft kiss to your forehead before rolling over next to you, his burly arms wrapping around your tired frame, keeping you safe. Not a single word is spoken between the lovers, only gentle kisses and loving gazes being exchanged while you recover. His hand seeks for yours again, this time examining it carefully; already picturing how good the ring he bought will look on you once you say yes.

[iwantghostsbigdick]

Pervy Ghost fucking you in your sleep and you wake up. Him convincing you it's just a wet dream. 🤍

Using my Pervert!Roommate!Simon AU for this one efbhjhbjfe<3 anon u just made the hottest fucking request holy shit

CW: noncon, gaslighting, somnophilia, creampie.

His hips thrust slowly into yours, not wanting you to wake up as he takes you, thick cock hitting every single inch of your gummy walls, hands busy keeping your legs open, brown eyes fully focused on your peaceful expression. You look so pretty like this, your body betraying you even when you're fast asleep, his cock glistening with your wetness every single time he pulls out only to slam himself all the way back inside.

''Mmh...'' You mumble softly, slowly waking up as your eyes focus on Simon. His hand comes up to run over the length of your hair, the other one cradling your head as he buries his bare face on the crook of your neck, planting gentle kisses in hopes of soothing you.

''Si...?'' You whisper softly, so drowsy you don't even hear the sound of the bed rocking and his hips slamming into yours, barely even able to register an awkward feeling on your crotch.

'''S just a dream, baby.'' His deep voice whispers into your ears, trying to be as soothing as possible to get you back to sleep. His lips plant gentle kisses all over your jaw and cheeks, tracing up to your lips. You're so confused all you can do is try to keep up, sloppily kissing back before turning your head away from him, eyes closing again.

''There we go, love. Just enjoy...'' You want to go back to sleep, but if it's all a dream, there's no shame in enjoying yourself with your roommate, is there? One of his hands is now groping your tit, squeezing your nipple between his fingers and pulling on it before he goes back to simply enjoying the way the fat feels on his palm.

You're now more aware of what he's doing, feeling every single inch of his thick cock ramming in and out of your sopping cunt, not even realizing how wet your pussy is until you hear the lewd sounds filling the room, soft moaning mixing in with Simon's low growls from above you. Your arms wrap around his neck, weakly trying to pull him closer to you. He gets the message, leaning down until his lips crash into yours, thrusts getting more brutal now that he doesn't have to worry about waking you up.

Simon is a messy kisser, saliva exchanged and dripping down the corners of your lips as his tongue wraps around yours, hands exploring your perfect body all over as he thrusts into you, cunt tightening around him even more now that you're awake.

He doesn't want to mess up, though, and he thanks whatever it is out there that gave him the skills to seem convincing even when he's close to the edge.

''It's a nice dream, isn't it? I bet you've been wanting this for a while.'' His voice is warm and friendly, a total contrast to the way he's fucking you like he hates you. All you can do is nod, legs opening slightly wider to give more space for his burly body to fit as he rams into you. A small whine leaves your lips after he becomes too rough, making him slow down slightly to avoid hurting you.

''You can take it, yeah?'' You manage to give him a lethargic nod, eyes closing again as your head turns away from him, sleepiness taking over you again despite the way your body is responding for you. Your sleeping medication makes it harder to stay awake, even when the perfect dream is going on. He's now fucking you nice and slow, hips rolling against yours while he plants gentle pecks all over your face, not minding that you're going back to sleep. If anything, it makes this easier for him.

''Rest, baby. You'll dream about me more often.'' His promise is the last thing you hear as you drift off to sleep again. He doesn't even bother being rough anymore, simply enjoying the way your cunt wraps around his cock, lips gripping it tightly as he whispers promises of everything he's going to do to you, ranging from sweet to downright nasty. He picks up the pace, looking down at your sleeping face with a warm look in his eyes as he fills your womb with his thick seed, not bothering to clean you up as he slowly pulls out, putting your panties back on your sleeping body.

[iwantghostsbigdick]

''You're such a fucking asshole and—'' Your words are interrupted by a whiny moan when Keegan starts to thrust up, not letting you get distracted by anything despite your rant.

''Yeah? Keep going, baby. Ride this fucking cock.'' You do as he says, getting on your feet to be able to ride him harder and deeper, the tip of his cock hitting your spongy cervix every single time he goes all the way in. One of your hands is on his hard chest for support, while the other one is holding his jaw, keeping his mouth open to hear the downright lewd groans leaving his lips.

''And... annoying. Cocky. Arrogant—'' Each insult is punctuated by you dropping on his cock, walls tightening up even more when you feel him throbbing inside you.

''Horrible.'' You keep ranting about him despite how good he feels inside you, despite the way his fat cock has your lips gripping on him for dear life. He is all of those things and more, but the tension that has been building up to this day was impossible to ignore. You're impaling yourself down on his cock and he's letting you, mouth open slightly ajar and eyes rolling to the back of his head.

''Fuck— yeah?'' He finds the energy to speak despite the way you're destroying his cock, not even thrusting up anymore and simply letting you do all the work. His hand trails up your spine, grasping at the hair on the back of your neck and keeping your head in place, letting you ride his cock despite his rough hold.

His hand lets go only to slap your face, making you ride faster despite the stinging pain. What a fucking asshole. It doesn't take long for you to return the favor, hand coming up to slap the annoying smirk off of his face— and it works shortly, he looks shocked at getting slapped back, yet pure amusement is soon written all over his annoyingly handsome face, seeing it as a challenge.

You know you fucked up when his calloused hands grasp your waist, holding you in place before using his strength to switch positions, now on top of you. His cock thrusts even deeper like this, hitting your cervix over and over at an almost punishing pace.

''Acting like a fucking bitch all day—'' He groans out, words interrupted by the sharp hiss leaving his lips at the way your pussy tightens more around his cock. He looks down at your lips, leaning closer while managing to keep his brutal thrusts.

''Open that fucking mouth, baby.'' You obey, too fucked out to even think much about it. You're barely able to register the way he spits into your mouth before kissing you, tongues wrapping around the other in a disgusting mess of spit. His hand comes up to grope your tit, fingers squeezing and pulling on the nipple every few seconds as he kisses you, ignoring the way your mixed spit is dripping down the corners of your lips.

The air is heavy with the smell of sex and the sounds of your muffled moans, his grip on your body bruising, fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you with an almost animalistic hunger. He doesn't stop making out with you even when his thrusts become even more brutal, spilling into you with a final, deep thrust. His hot white cum filling you up only makes your body tense up, riding out your orgasms together before he collapses on top of you, his weight keeping you pinned to the bed.

''Get off of me, fatass.'' Your protests go ignored, the asshole only making himself even heavier on top of you even when you try your best to get him off.

[iwantghostsbigdick]

thinking about you and simon making out and him just becoming so giggly and smiley.

wc: 503 | cw: angsty, shy simon & more dominant reader

the day started off as a lazy one - simon surprisingly sleeping in until you both drag yourselves out of bed to have a late breakfast. your conversation is quiet and trivial. words to fill the space of when you’re not holding one another.

both your bodies drift back upstairs to the safety of your sheets and low buzz of the tv. simon flicks through channels and streaming services leisurely, indecisive of what show will occupy the rest of the day. you grow tiresome of the mundane “this one?” shortly followed by a “nah.” and place your arm as far across simon’s torso as you can. your chin sits on his upper bicep as you flutter your eyelashes up at him. “you’re asking for trouble now,” simon acknowledges, not even chancing a glance at you, aware of the spell you’re trying to put him under. you litter gentle kisses all over the arm closest to you which only grow to small licks and bites.

simon’s hand stutters whilst typing in a particular movie and you know your advances are working. with your legs already intertwined, you use a small amount of momentum to straddle his lap and connect your lips. simon’s hand lets the remote fall to the bed and now grasp at your thighs, kneading them effortlessly. as you grow hungry with lust, you feel simon’s lips part and feel the dimples form under your hands that caress his cheeks.

you pull back slightly, only enough for him to see your confused face. “stop,” you groan. “m’sorry, can’t help it,” simon replies as you elicit a low chuckle from him. your tongues dance a choreography that only you two know - yours being calculated and focus whilst simon is smooth and graceful.

everything around you two feels stuffy with your breaths being swallowed by one another and the placement of your core sitting right on top of simon’s hardening cock. the hem of your shirt is the first place your fingers reach for to pull over your head and with no bra on underneath, half naked for simon to admire.

his eyes are droopy, drunk off love as he admires you quietly with his palms rubbing up and down your sides and the small gesture of licking his lips. you latch your lips on his neck which simon sighs at, morphing into a moan that is dragged out for god knows how long. as you hips begin to grind in circles, simon reaches for the nape of your neck and tugs you back to his mouth, desperate for your taste.

“si, what are you doing to me?” you yearn quietly. “dunno but i love the way you’re reacting to it.” simon’s head tips back to attempt concealing the growing blush on his cheeks. you tease a smile, laughing into his chest at how easily shy he becomes.

you murmur weakly “god, making out with you is fun.”

a/n: oh my god, he’s literally my baaaabbbbbyyyyy i miss him and i’ve never MET HIM

[iwantghostsbigdick]

AHEDDGRDGESGUTSWA DO YSSHDF ED SASDDESSDD

bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."