dog failure

[ronnydeniro]

oh hi hello

[barbatusart]

putting my cat michael mcdonald on blast

[rusticfurnace]

simon riley with a patrick wilson body type yuuuuuuuuuuppp

[rimfaxe]

DEF in a certain mood tonight :3

full version over on bsky as per usual

[viridiancolors]

[mlembug]

[crabussy]

when you get crazy enough about The Character you'd think the situations you imagine them in would get more elaborate and lore intensive. but no. imagining my wizard pacing around huffily being slightly peeved at a mild inconvenience. I don’t even know what the inconvenience IS. and it's giving me enough joy to power a city for a month

[crabussy]

you understand this post more than anyone else

[lumi-nay]

Suggestive, 18+

Blunt!Simon, who has never once been good at keeping his mouth shut. He says this exactly as he sees them. Simon, who has the exact same mindset when he sees you enter the bases gym, clad in leggings and a standard issue sports bra.

'Can see yer nipples cuttin' through yer top, luv' he said gruffly, when you came over to say hi. You stopped dead in your tracks, blood rushing to your face, who even says that?!

You knew about his lack of filter, and youd always had a slight crush on him... but even then, you could feel your cheeks heating up

You try your best to get on with your workout, opting to do some cardio to warm up...

After a few hours, you head over to the water fountain to hydrate, where Simon had been standing, filling up his bottle. 'Been enjoyin' the outline 'f yer cunt, luvie' he says, looking down at you as you cough on your water in shock.

He bends down to get close to you 'dyin' for a taste... give yer LT a han', aye?'

Blunt!Simon who has you throbbing with his crude words.

[angeljaney]

you don’t know why you thought simon would be a cocky fuck.

maybe it was how cool and collected he always was. that hot, quiet confidence.

if only you knew when you’d finally got him into bed. ready for him to be rough, to be a little mean, not that you’d mind.

in reality, he was whining into your neck as he pumped into you at a primal speed. whispering and mumbling half words into your throat as he groped you anywhere he could. his eyes were rolled and he was drooling on your collarbone.

“o-oh.. oh, fuck- nghhhuhh… yyeah?.. awww… my baby.. gonna fill y-you… mhm…”

sweet little brain-numb nothings falling of the tongue of the smartest, coldest man you know.

and you could’ve cum just from the sight when he lifted his head and started actually panting and pathetically stuttering his hips against yours like a mutt.

[cherisseone]

Always wanted to draw Captain Price 🧘🏻‍♀️💖

[un-monstre]

Bloopers are movie aftercare and it’s fucked up that we got rid of them

[mitrielle]

Boobnosis

[ghouljams]

You know how it all works. At least, you think you know how it all works.

"Feel that?" Ghost asks, his cock stretches you out almost painfully, and still you can feel most pressing against your entrance. Your stomach is full of him, your cervix nudged by the head of his fat cock as it finds a home buried deep inside. You shake your head against the pillows with a whine, your hips twitching as his hands pull your ass apart, kneading the soft flesh with rough callused fingers. "Feel that knot pressin' against ya so nicely?" His voice is shot, croaking with how rough it hits your ear. Your eyes roll as your lashes flutter, the heat of his words dripping down your spine liquor thick.

Your cunt throbs, pulses with needy pleasure as it squeezes tight around him. You want to touch, to reach a hand between you and stroke the hardened bud that seems to glow with heat. You want to feel over your stomach, see if he presses against you as heavily as you think, perhaps you could find his hard cock beneath all your softness. The thought sends a shiver through you. Libidinous desire isn't befitting of a princess.

And yet, Ghost circles his hips, grinding his knot against your entrance, and you feel that liquid desire drip from you. Hot and slick. You feel it like a fever drenching your skin, sticky with sweat and yearning.

"Let me in Princess," Ghost murmurs, leaning to press his weight against your back, "Lemme breed this li'le pussy, bet I get it my first try." The curve of his smile as his lips skate over your neck makes a whine bubble in your throat, deep and needy as the punch of his cock. "Can even help the process," he offers, lips parting to tease his teeth against the soft spot where your mating gland lies.

"Please-"

Your whimpered word jerks you awake. Sweat dampens the bed beneath you, the sheets sticking to your skin as your breath shudders through your chest. Fever blazes through your body, the air the tickles your skin is frigid and uncomfortable, and you gather the damp blankets back around you. Your thighs are wet with slick and your core pulses with sick desire. A cramp tightens in your stomach painfully, and you curl into yourself. You want Ghost, but heats aren't the time to be playing the lovesick fool.

[dmitriene]

this is my main fics and drabbles masterlist ― there you can find list to each fandom and character that i post in this blog, including link and their details. each character is divided into their own category so you won't get lost and feel more comfortable by finding what exactly you want to read, though i want to mention that i do not mark which work are smut or not, you'll need to check the tags.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“RESIDENT EVIL MASTERLIST„ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST„ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“RED DEAD REDEMPTION MASTERLIST„

[reveuchet]

18+ getting hard while you're patching him up

being a medic meant having to see the same gruffy man come into your office multiple times per week, or even per day. that man was simon "ghost" riley.

you've come to the thought that he might be doin' it on purpose just so he can see you, and this day was particularly different— which did not help his case whatsoever. you were doing your job as per usual, bandaging his wounds up so it wouldn't get infected and whatnot but another problem arised... quite literally.

a hard one in the crotch of his pants, strained and painful. it was begging for some action the more time passed. you tried to ignore it at first, but he didn't seem so well and you know wounds hurt him much less than the specific problem he's facing currently.

"simon? you okay?" you ask, hand carefully and firmly pressing the bandage on his arm.

he lets out a groan. "yeah, i'm fine."

"you don't look like it," you reply, giving him a knowing gaze.

"then why'd ya' even ask?" he glares at you. "just fix it already."

you giggle, quickly finishing your medical work on his arm before diving between his manspread legs and pulling on the zipper to reveal his underwear, cock becoming more prominent against the thin fabric.

but you know you had no time to waste, since there were others waiting for the both of you, so you pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out in desperation.

there's a cheeky smirk that tugs on the corner of your lips, but you open up anyway, gently putting his hard cock in your mouth. you start bobbing your head back-and-forth, tongue scraping on the underside, pleasure coursing through his veins.

he lets out a groan of relief, trying to keep his sounds low so everyone outside won't hear it, while you're going ham— sucking and licking him all over. the taste of his cock floods your mind, only able to think about servicing him into climax. after all, your job is to maintain his health, no?

his breathing grows ragged, and you feel him getting closer and closer to release. quickening your pace, his body twitches before a generous load makes its way into your mouth.

gladly, you swallow the whole portion, wiping the sides of your mouth before jumping up to clean your tools and take in the next patient. "get out of my room, riley," you say condescendingly.

but he doesn't move quickly, only sitting there for a while, contemplating if his life had come to this type of humiliation.

"fine, fine," he says. "thanks for today, doll."

the nickname rings in your mind. what the fuck is wrong with him?

i hope y'all like it. i haven't written for him in a while nor consumed much cod stuff so...

[amaranthinespirit]

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY ☆ MASTERLIST (nsfw content: potential dark themes!)

click on the links, and it will take you to all the posts with that respective tag!

—general simon riley

—roommate simon riley —neighbor simon riley

—boyfriend simon riley —older boyfriend simon riley —husband simon riley

—best friend's brother/brother's best friend simon riley

—biker simon riley —gym bro simon riley

—stalker simon riley —serial killer simon riley —kidnapper simon riley —butcher simon riley

—loser simon riley

—tattoo artist simon riley —piercer simon riley —mechanic simon riley —priest simon riley —blue collar/cowboy simon riley —professor simon riley —wrestler simon riley

—simon riley headcanons —simon riley image imagines

[silverlullabies]

Thinking your legs spread wide, Simon folded down onto his knees in between those plush thighs of yours, massive frame bowed forward, arms wrapped tight around your waist, big hands splayed across the soft give of your belly and lower back.

Im thinking of his facd pressed right to the warm, inner curve of your thigh, cheek squished into the fat, pillowy flesh, feel every slow, dazed breath he takes, ghosting over sensitive skin, ruffling the fine hairs there.

Im thinking of his pretty brown eyes- usually so sharp they could cut glass- look up at you with the dumbest, sweetest, most fucked out expression you’ve ever seen. Lashes heavy, pupils blown wide and glassy. Mouth slack, lips parted, thin string of drool slipping from the corner and smearing shiny across your thigh but he doesn’t notice. Too deep. Too far gone.

Thinking about every time your fingers card slow and gentle through his short, sweat damp hair, his eyes flutter and he makes this low, broken little sound in the back of his throat- half whine, half sigh.

Simon’s arms tightening around your waist, pulling your soft body closer, face nuzzling deeper into the plush meat of your thigh. You feeling the rasp of his stubble, the wet heat of his open mouth, the way his nose drags slow and mindless. Shoulders loose, spine curved in total surrender.

Ghost kneeling between your spread legs, face buried against your fat thigh, looking up at you like you hung the fucking moon and he’d die if you stopped petting him, too puppy dumb to think about anything but the way your thigh feels under his cheek.

[silverlullabies]

Imagine Alpha!Ghost who has never once been moved by an omega’s scent. Not a single twitch of interest in all the years he’s been forced to stand in crowded rooms and breathe their scent in.

He’s smelled every combination- cloying florals and bright citruses and dark, earthy things.

And… he feels nothing. No itch under his skin. No pull in his chest. No instinct to knot an omega and fill them full of his pups

He handles his ruts alone, teeth sunk into his own forearm, fist working, mask never lifted even when he’s locked in his quarters with the lights off.

Until he smells you.

Tangerine, bright, sharp, almost sweet enough to make his mouth water. Black tea, dark and tannic. Stereotypical. Nothing worth noting. Until he smells the iron, metallic and thick. Catches a whiff of it and inhales until he’s dizzy with it.

His cock swells so fast it punches the air out of his lungs, thickens against the front of his fatigues until the fabric strains, the head already leaking like a faucet, knot at the base swelling fat. His rut scratches at the back of his head, claws raking, vicious, sudden, feral need that makes his vision tunnel and his hands shake.

It takes everything in him to not drop to his knees right then and there, nose between your thick thighs, lick you clean while you squirmed and bled for him. Iron and tangerine all over his tongue, his mask.

He wants to scent you so thoroughly no one else can smell anything but him. Wants to fuck you through it, knot you deep while you’re still bleeding, keep you plugged full until the cramping stops and the only thing you can feel is the stretch of his cock.

He has to brace a hand on the wall. Has to breathe through his mouth even though it doesn’t help, because the scent is everywhere now, in his nose, in his throat, in the low, involuntary rumble that starts in his chest. The thought of your soft belly and plush hips makes his knot throb again, another thick bead of precome soaking into the cotton.

He wonders if you’d let him. If a nervous little thing like you would let him put you on your back and spread you open, let him bury his face in that iron sweet mess until your thighs shake around his ears, or if you’d fuss and try to close your legs before his big hands pinned you wide and his tongue found the source of it.

Wonders if you’d cry when he finally fucks you, when the knot catches and locks and he keeps you there, breeding you through the blood like some feral thing that’s finally found the only scent worth crawling on his knees for.

Ghost whose hands are trembling as he turns the corner and sees you there. Ghost who gets hard- painfully, humiliatingly hard- from the smell of you on your period.