*casually Reblogs*

*casually reblogs*

1k special ♡ thanks for 1k of x and 500 on tumblr

exchanging videos w/ghost 👻 (🌽 link)

ghost knows what he wants, and if he misses your tits, he's just going to straight up ask for it. however, he was expecting a pic or two, but when he gets a video of you playing with your boobs and the beautiful sight of your inner thighs, he ain't complaining. but he's gotta pay you back, that's why he sends you a video jacking off -in an actually not so private place- and spilling pure filth out of his mouth.

COMPUTER LISTEN!

computer show me men with wet spots in their underwear. men making a mess in their boxers. men gasping and panting. men pressing their thighs together. men with trembling hands and sweat beading on their neck. men with warm, sweet skin between their thighs. men twitching. computer. computer can you hear me.

*gets the app immediately*

using something like the fetlife app because you've very specific kinks that you want fulfilled and know you're gonna get them without having to go through the awkward talking/explanation of it all in relationships and you get matched with someone who does everything you like and he's real close by, only to come face to mask with the mountain of a man you frequently see at the bar because you work it on the weekends as a favor to a friend.

(he's always left you feeling deeply unsettled, even though all he ever did was order more beer. even now, you feel as if you're walking on eggshells, air thick, heavy with tension, as you shake his paw of a hand and ask him his name.)

you decide to put your irrational fears aside (and send some friends your location) and let him take you back to his place where he goes down your humble little list and makes you pick one thingy out of it.

"this isn't a grocery list and i do nothin' for free. quid pro quo, pet."

the teeth marks he left on your neck throbs in sync with your heartbeat, the stickiness between your legs noticeable, bedsheets drenched, even though the night's just begun.

quid pro quo?

"a kink for a kink. now get up and sit tha' pretty cunt here," his fingers tapping his lips and chin. when you tell him you're not all that light, he laps at your pussy, tongue deliciously cruel as it flicks your clit until you forget why that was even something that mattered.

(the breeding kink was expected but how he had you ride him while he read the morning paper and only put it down to grab your face with his fingers, cheeks plumping with the pressure, as he purrs out if you're gonna make him a daddy was not.)

*bangs fist on table* I TOTALLY FUCKING AGREE!

*bangs fist on table*

SIMON NEEDS READING GLASSES

*smooch.*

big dicked ghost 👻 (🌽 link)

there is no denying, simon is BIG. in all senses of the world. he's tall and built like a fucking tank. and it reflects in what's between his thick and strong legs. because his dick isn't just big, it's girthy.

and his girth becomes a problem when fucking you, because a bit of foreplay isn't enough to get your poor pussy ready for what's about to come. quickies are not an option with ghost, because he has to spend a quite decent amount of time preparing you to take him.

he always starts eating you out, getting you nice and wet. and then his mouth starts getting accompanied by a chunky finger, while his lips latch around your clit, sucking incessantly. and one finger becomes two, and then three as he slowly works you open.

it may be a tedious job in some ways, but the reward is top notch. and it comes in the form of some of the best fucks in the world, with the extra stimulation coming from his with splitting you in two. and for him? the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock.

and trust me, he's going to be balls deep inside of you.

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I NEVER KNEW I COULD SQUEAL THIS LOUD.

nsfw, mdni.

simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.

cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).

simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.

you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.

you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.

“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.

you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.

he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.

he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.

you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.

“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.

he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.

“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.

he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.

your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.

simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that make you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”