Vexedcoast - ROWAN. - Tumblr Blog

Touch.

Me practicing for Ellie, Abby, Sevika, Vi, Caitlyn, Mizu, and Valeria

If you are currently sitting or laying down this moment ask yourself if you are resting or rotting. Change your behavior accordingly

“They gave me runway in this film. There’s one monologue in there. I can’t tell you the details of it. I say more words in that monologue than I said in an entire movie once as Wolverine. But there are sides of the character that I’ve been scratching at for 24 years […] There is stuff in this movie where I was like, ‘This is the thing I’ve been trying to get out’ and I feel so excited about it.”

— Hugh Jackman talking about Logan in Deadpool & Wolverine (x)

Simon is not a jealous man. he knows his worth and knows that he can absolutely trust you. but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. in fact, he cares wholeheartedly about anything even remotely related to you. so he always rests a hand on your back or holds your hand when you walk out in public, a silent signal that he's always there for you if you need him while glaring daggers in every creep's direction who dares to look at you inappropriately which always makes them back out. he always keeps an eye on you and your surroundings.

his actions are not driven by insecurities or the need to show everyone who you belong to. he knows that you're his and he's yours, but that's a private matter between you two that doesn't need showing off. it's a sacred bond that shouldn't be sullied by such behaviors. no, his actions are driven purely by love and devotion and the need to protect you.

he doesn't feel the need to 'punish' you for being you when someone makes a move on you. he simply has no interest in the concept because he doesn't own you and the fact that some creep decides to approach you is not your fault. he has no interest in this childish way of thinking.

you're the only one he can trust other than his comrades. he's got everything he needs and more in you. so why on earth would he taint this pure love you share by such impure ways?

#they're having a mid off

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

TikTokers are such pussies when it comes to ships. “B-but they’re not canon 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😖😖” honey back in my day we shipped characters from entirely different medias uphill both ways in the snow

dad!Price

Gamer girl Logan

Face Painting. 🖌️

⟢ EIGHTEEN PLUS INTERACTIONS ONLY. ellie who has an oral fixation, needing to suck your tits 'til she's overtaken by slumber. and a reader with very, very sensitive tits. she can't help but feel cosy and comforted when she's touching your body, using such grace to hold you. she's not shy, never has been, but she definitely gets embarrassed about this need of hers. winding down for the night, needing your body on her mouth in some kind of way, else she can't take her mind off the strenuous day she's had.

it starts when exhaustion looms over your head, you lie down and tug the covers over yourself and pull ellie under with you – if you don't, she'll never get any rest. there's perhaps a mere minute of quiet, where she gets herself comfortable situated behind you. and then, there's the featherlight touch of her lips against the back of your neck, a hand sliding up beneath your tank top. each kiss peppered down your bare shoulder is a silent form of begging, and she continues until you give in. doesn't take long these days.

your top is tugged up to your collarbone and ellie's lying on you now with a leg hooked right over your waist, a wordless insistence that you've gotta stay put. her hands grasp at your body gently, one splayed against your sternum as her lips purse around an engorged nipple. she's a hot mess, tongue absolutely fastidious, circling the hardened bud and flicking it back and forth. you're tracing wayward strands out of her face and caressing the back of her head as she swallows around your nipple hungrily.

a trail of drool cascades down the underside of your breast, and ellie's hand moves to the free and rather neglected mound beside her face. scrunching, squishing, kneading the skin. it's suddenly different tonight compared to usual, your breath short, muffled little moans eliciting from the fervent touching. and ellie switches between your tits every so often, sucking the soft skin raw and sore until your body grows spasmodic and fluttery, cumming untouched.

by the time it's over, you and ellie's minds are cleared of anything but mild shock, holding on tight with ellie's head against your chest until you both crash.

women be watching movies and making meaningful observations

She gone girled irl

"no boots on the bed," you tell him, but it ends up with Simon in full gear, pants unbuckled, watching you bounce on him, desperate to make him move, touch you, do something to help as you chase your orgasm from his cock as he uses and smugly celebrates the leverage he gets from his military grade soles

I saw someone on Twitter say that their masks wouldn't let them kiss. Tragic.

Credits to that tweet : @Mowhawkmactavish

boyfriend’s best friend simon

(18+ smut, fem!reader, infidelity but your boyfriends a cunt if that makes you feel better)

—•—

you don’t know how this happened. you don’t know when this happened. all you know is that it is happening, and you really don’t want it to stop.

simon’s everything that your boyfriend isn’t. has everything that he lacks. communication, understanding, selflessness; commonsense, emotional intelligence, a big cock,

the list goes on, frankly.

but here you are, your bedroom sweltering around you, swimming beneath distorted waves in your vision. convection currents radiating from your conjoined bodies.

simon’s hands were large and calloused on the soft fat of your hips, fingers toying with the taut lines of stretch marks passing onto the thick of your upper thighs. his hands gripped and pulled and moved you against him, slamming you up and down, grinding you against him.

he was leaned up against the headboard of your bed, head cocked back with dark, hungry eyes glued to your body and a coy smirk plastered across his face. the way he looked at you, gazed you, admired you as if you were some kind of prize, had your stomach in knots.

maybe you were a prize. after all, he was balls-deep in his best friend’s girl, and he didn’t have a care in the world. didn’t have a care in the world that his cock had chubbed instantly when she opened the door to let him in an hour ago.

you panted above him, thighs burning, shins pressed into the warm sheets of your bed. you were hesitant to be on top, to perch your body weight across his pelvis. your boyfriend never assured you it’d be okay, just agreed with you and fucked you flat on the mattress. simon was different.

“what? think i can’t handle myself a girl like you, eh?” simon had uttered, looking you up and down. a prize. he was also knuckle-deep in your pussy by this stage, two fingers scissoring you open. “oh, sweet girl, you have no idea.”

and now you were here. straddling simon riley, the formidable ghost that you’d seen only occasionally with your boyfriend. a recluse of a man, a mountain of a man. was always kind, always respectful.

an army dog, a government mutt. always so obedient, and so polite. well-trained and well-mannered. clearly, until he had a pretty bird like you stretched across his lap. a prize.

“yeah, ride this fuckin’ cock, baby,” simon grunted, helping you fuck yourself down onto his cock. his thick, fat cock— a cock that hit you so deep, stretched you so wide, that the joke of ‘is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?’ had died on your tongue because, holy fuck,

he could use it. he knew what he was doing. you should have guessed it with the way he spat on your cunt ten minutes into you letting him into your flat; the way he licked the glob of spit from your wet folds and fucked it into you, tongue warm and searching. you also should have guessed when he rubbed at your clit with his thumb while stretching you open on his fingers; the way he moved them at just the right pace to make you come twice in a row. now:

“s’all yours, baby. s’all yours,” he uttered, pushing his hips upwards to meet your downwards movements.

your tits bounced with each of his thrusts, the mattress creaking beneath you. the sheets were bunching, the heat in the room thick and molten. liquid, drowning you.

you gasped, air in your lungs. you were not drowning, just fucking delirious with the way his cockhead knocked up towards the plug of your cervix.

panting, you clutched at his shoulders. broad and muscular. you could feel the difference in texture where skin ended and scar began. a few times, your fingers wandered upwards, and you drew the tips through his hair. once cropped, now grown out. scruffy, rugged,

handsome. sweat beaded on his forehead, turning the lighter strands dark, sticking to his skin. between the filth he spewed from his mouth, you could hear him grunting and moaning. you wished he’d moan louder. maybe once he stopped talking it’d be different. but you weren’t sure how soon that would be.

“fuckin’— look at the fuckin’ state of you. such a pretty girl. such a pretty— fuckin’— girl,” simon groaned, thrusting up into you. the force made you hiccup around a long moan. simon smiled, triumphant. “look like a dream takin’ all o’ my cock, sweetheart. perfect little pussy letting me stretch her open, huh?”

“simon,” you moaned, and that wasn’t the first time you’d said his name tonight. but he acted as though it was.

a dog with a bone, simon flashed a wicked grin, canines showing, and redoubled his efforts in pushing his cock in and out of you, rutting against your body.

“yeah, baby, i’m here. your simon’s righttttt here,” he said, grinning, as he took one of his large hands and placed it over the mound of your belly, pressing gently and squeezing you there. he couldn’t actually feel his cock inside you, but the added sensation knocked an airy moan from your chest, your eyes rolling. simon hummed, pleased as he fucked you. “‘m reaching so far, aren’t i? so deep. bet your lad couldn’t reach up here, could he?”

you whimpered, and you wanted to whimper a ‘noooo’ but it died in transit. instead, you whimpered, like a wounded dog, as his cock hit that perfect spot inside you. it made you want to scream.

you continued to bounce against him, his thighs pressed close to yours. he fondled you, squeezed your hips while you both worked each other towards release.

“simon,” you pleaded, breathless. “oh, fuck—”

simon wanted so badly to beam with pride. but he resisted, cocking his head and watching the way your greedy cunt sucked his cock in with wet squelches at each upward thrust.

“you feeling good, sweet girl?” he asked, tone warm and honey-sweet. well-trained. then, “this cock making you feel good? he followed with an obvious lilt. mutt.

you replied with a yes, that trailed off into a high-pitched moan when simon’s thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing against it and beginning to draw small, tight circles.

“thaaat’s it, baby. sing for me.”

“siiimon,” you mewled, body tiring but stomach growing tight. bubbling hot, molten like the atmosphere of your bedroom. the knot in the base pulling tighter and tighter with each nudge of his cock against your g-spot.

your cunt was soaked around him, dripping out onto his pelvis and onto your bedsheets. making a mess.

tight, velveteen walls clutched at his cock as your climax built. gripping tight, holding him against you, keeping him with you. wet and warm and the closest to heaven a non-religious man like simon’ll ever come close to.

“beautiful,” he suddenly whispered, eyes on your face now. “beautiful girl.”

well-trained. damn, your boyfriend wasn’t even close to being this well-trained. he was more used to chewing you up like a toy, and heading off to do god knows what once he’d finished. once he’d satisfied himself.

you weren’t a toy for simon. just a prize. much different than a toy, for your information.

a toy is something you play with. a prize is something treasure. savour. and with the way simon revelled at the silky feel of your pussy against his bare cock, he intended to savour you forever.

“you wanna come?” he asked softly, but you knew the soft tone wasn’t going to last. not with the way his eyes glinted, his soft abs flexed, and his mouth curved at the corners. “can feel this pussy startin’ to make a fuss. so desperate for it, isn’t she?”

personifying your pussy. a new one, but one you weren’t entirely afraid of.

so you answered. “yes. simon, please—“

simon quickened his pace, thrusting deeper. your flesh rippled, thighs and stomach and tits moving with the sheer force of his movements. he grunted and panted, eyes drooping, fingers tight in your hips, chasing his own high too. he still had a hard-working finger drawing sharp shapes across your puffy clit.

“go on then. come all over my cock, sweet girl. show me what i’ve been missing out on.”

the tension in your body grew and grew, sweat accumulating across your skin. shiny, dewy, completely ethereal, you hurtled towards release with wind in your sails. sweating, hot, on the brink of overstimulation, you let your mind go fuzzy. you had a heartbeat in your clit. you could feel the stickiness of your inner-thighs. you could hear simon,

“come for me, baby.”

the coil snapped as if on cue. maybe you were the well-trained dog in need of a new collar.

your release rocked you off balance, and you slumped forward, ready for simon to catch you. he did, of course, leaning you against his chest as your body shook, twitched, jerked with the force of your orgasm. it travelled through you like electric shocks. an electrical current that fizzled out after a few long seconds, and left you boneless against simon’s chest.

he was close behind you, his balls drawing tight, tip leaking inside you, flared head now ruddy and red.

he moaned. “god, baby. feel so good around me.” a speechless moment, filled only with pants and— moans. simon moaned loudly, eyes snapping shut as his orgasm quivered inside him. bees trapped in a glass jar.

“just needed a proper cock to split you open,” he said suddenly, voice deep and rich. “pretty girl like you needs a big cock to keep her happy.”

rutting, in and out. desperate mutt. canines flashing, grip tightening, moans increasing. military stamina you hoped wouldn’t last all night. a working dog, too, this man. god, what a man. not perfect (you wouldn’t want him to be), but pretty fuckin’ close right about now.

“simon,” you whined, desperate.

he groaned deeply. “oh yeah, fuck, that’s it, baby. say my name— yeah, say my name when i come inside you.”

“simon…”

“that’s it, baby. that’s it. fuck, m’so close. m’so close, baby, keep going.”

“simon, please—!”

“mhm, thaaat’s it, fuck,” simon moaned, then shoved his cock as far in as it’d go (making you gasp and choke on a loud moan) and then came inside you.

you felt the heat. more heat, more liquid fire. molten. lava. you were drowning again.

he filled you, cum painting your insides as he moaned out your name, whining as his head flopped backwards, his large hands keeping you firmly in place.

then, everything stilled. your heartbeat clanged loudly in your ears, heavy in your rib cage. your puffy clit beat in tandem with it, and your hole fluttered around his cock, now still and plugging his release inside you.

for the briefest moment, as you lay against simon’s chest in the warm, sex-laden air of your bedroom, you thought of your boyfriend. the man you should’ve been doing all of this with.

but the thought was merely a linger. it flitted away, brushed aside by simon’s lips, that came to rest against your tacky forehead. he peppered a few kisses there, rubbing your hips, arse and back soothingly as you fizzled down.

“pretty girl…” simon whispered softly, hugging you to him. “my pretty girl.”

his prize.

he always thought his mate was a bit of a prick, anyway.

deadpool & wolverine is one of those films where i thought everyone was joking or exaggerating about the homoeroticism and then i went to the cinema and watched a 2 hour long gay sex metaphor. what the hell was that. we need more of that kind of film in society

moth girl giggling and blushing kicking her feet in the air writing in a pretty pink journal with a cute glittery pen and when you look at the page its just a bunch of drawings of streetlamps

Real.

No one: Tumblr gif makers: *downloads a 70GB video file just to make one gifset of some blorbo that’ll only get 120 notes*

requested by anonymous: SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY GIF HEADERS • 640px : 360px tumblr headers in normal coloring and b/w version • no credit needed, put please consider to like/reblog if you use/save :)

poly!ghoap who live w/ the reader, johnny whining like a needy brat bc he wants to fuck you so bad but si says no :( simon’s perfectly happy, he doesn’t necessarily understand why johnny’s so adamant about opening the relationship up to include the lodger.

that’s until simon starts to actually observe you. how you tidy up after yourself, how you buy the boys the odd ‘saw-this-and-thought-of-you’ gift when buying groceries. it makes the harshness of simon mellow whenever you unintentionally ground him. he loves johnny, with all his heart, but johnny’s unpredictable nature and his loudness is all too much for such a weary soul sometimes.

you prune a floral arrangement you had bought, humming quietly as you pluck delicate thorns from slender stems. a wince escapes your lips as you accidentally snag your thumb on a particularly persistent thorn, and simon looks up from his newspaper with a concerned, yet stoney, look. “you alright?” his voice rumbles from across the room where he was sat, glancing up at you in the kitchenette. “yeah..” you mumble, still trying to tend to the arrangement despite trickles of blood that trail down your wrist with each gentle administration of attention given to the flowers.

cute, simon thinks to himself. the corners of his lips twitch as he makes his way over to the kitchenette, not even needing to stretch to grab the first aid kit from the top of the fridge. “c’mere.” he fusses, thick mancunian accent soothing your soul as his fingers begin to tend to the cut. his touch is calloused yet tender, sincere and gentle. and when your softening eyes glance up at simon, only to catch him staring back down at you with an affectionate expression, it makes him realise that perhaps johnny’s proposition of opening the relationship up isn’t an inherently bad idea.