Just Got Off The Phone W/ Mr Simon Ghost Riley And He Told Me Himself That He Actually Doesn't Like To

Just got off the phone w/ Mr Simon Ghost Riley and he told me himself that he actually doesn't like to be violent towards his lover in the bedroom. He actually doesn't want to degrade them or inflict any harm to them what so ever. That bc of his past and having to deal with violence and anger everyday he finds solitude and peace with being loving and gentle with the people he trusts. That he is proud of himself that he could break the cycle of being a violent man and can make his partner feel loved.

He also told me that he thinks its really damaging for young women to become accustomed to the idea with violence, anger and degradation in the bedroom and that everyone should know that love isn't being slapped in the face during sex or crying because your partner is being to rough or being choked to the point that you feel like your going to pass out or having bruises all over your body from your lover being to forceful. He told me that he understands people like what they like but he is also aware that by being subjected to such violent content and having it at your fingertips at any given time is actually really damaging for the brain and that these fantasies often stem from porn created for the male eyes and actually doesn't benefit woman in any way, shape to form.

He also told me that its OKAY to not want to be treated like that and even though that in this day and age violent intimacy is normalised to a point of flippancy, you don't have to like to be treated like that by a partner.

Near the end of our conversation he also wanted me to tell you that you are worth so much more than your sexuality and he is so proud of you. That you deserve love and kindness and he hopes that we can all take a moment to remove ourselves from heavy smut every once and a while and reevaluate how certain forms of media may effect us without even being aware of it.

Simon Riley NSFW thoughts under the cut. 18+ only (F!Reader)

Edit: the lovely Kris (@random-thot-generator) wrote 3.5k words of devastatingly, disgustingly, damn-near pussy destroyingly hot smut to complement these thots, please go check it out here!

Simon Riley is the definition of look into her eyes as you rearrange her guts. When you first start sleeping together, it’s intense. You've only ever "seen" his face in the complete darkness—outlines and glimpses. A broad nose, slightly crooked. A scar that runs through his lips and up into his cheek. But his eyes? You’re familiar with them intimately. They hold you captive while his hips move rough and hard against yours. Your dreams about him may be faceless, but his eyes are inescapable.

Without a shadow of a doubt, Simon isn't vocal during sex. Oh he'll moan and groan, and sometimes he'll whine at how tight you are, how warm it feels inside you. And it's not like he's opposed to the concept. He's used to giving orders. He's used to his orders being the difference between life and death for his men, used to his word being followed without question. But talking dirty to you? Whole different ball game. When you're a mess underneath him, eyes glazed and mouth slack open, strangling his cock in wet heat? Fuck, he can't even think. Coherent thoughts are out of the question.

But sometimes, Simon will talk. Not during sex, but before. He’ll tell you all about how he’s been thinking about you. In a low, gruff tone that sounds and tastes like smoke, he'll tell you everything. How he thinks about you for hours when he’s on base alone, winding himself up, imagining what he’ll do to you when he sees you. How he fucks his fist to the thought of you. How, a couple weeks before he knows he’ll see you, he’ll bring himself to the edge over and over, never letting himself come. No, he’d come inside you, or not at all.

He’s been with other people before you, of course he has. Not a lot of people, but just enough to know what he likes. But things are different with you. Things are different enough that, though he’s willing to explore, he’s careful with you. Gentle. He can’t help himself. But when you straddle him with fire in your eyes, tell him that you want his hand around your throat, want to see those tattoos draped across your chest while he fucks up into you? All thoughts of gentility fly out of his mind. Far be it from him not to give you what you want.

tetsurou kuroo x f!reader

say it

summary: If you don't call him Tetsurou while you're having sex, you can still pretend this thing between you and Kuroo is casual, right? (Wrong.)

word count: 1.3k

content: Nekoma University!Kuroo, NSFW, 18+, smut, friends with benefits to lovers speed run, name kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, fingering, oral sex, this was going to be PWP but the feels said no

Be it on the court or off, there’s something to be said about Tetsurou Kuroo’s timing.

It’s how you found yourself so enamored by him in the first place, after all. Months ago, when your friends drug you along to your university's enormous gymnasium to watch the men’s volleyball team play a practice match with a local rival between classes, you didn’t think you knew enough about the sport to drum up much interest from your unassuming place in the back of the stands—until your eyes landed on a tall, loud player with the number ‘1’ adorned across his red jersey.

But it wasn’t just his height or the way he ceaselessly commanded Nekoma’s side of the court that kept your rapt attention, it was the way he moved. 

Tetsurou Kuroo—a name you caught your friends whispering after he scored a point that had the gathered crowd roaring in excitement—had a mesmerizing knack for timing his movements to make the most of each and every square inch of the court. 

And you?

You may have known shit all about volleyball, but fuck if just watching him didn’t set your heart racing. 

Sometimes you can’t help but laugh at the irony—the way Kuroo collided with you in a busy hallway days later, setting off a dangerously flirtatious chain of events that would eventually find the two of you tangled in his sheets, naked and sated and gasping for air. 

It was casual then; you went into this arrangement under no false pretenses. 

And...it’s still casual now, despite the fact that you know beyond a shadow of doubt that neither of you is fucking anyone else.

Despite the fact that you wake up in Kuroo’s bed more often than your own, to the point where rolling over in the morning to inhale the scent of your own laundry detergent on the pillowcase beside you feels almost wrong at this point. 

Despite the fact that at one point or another, he suddenly made a habit of calling you after every one his away matches—just to talk, just to say goodnight. 

Despite the fact that, somewhere along the way, he started kissing you more softly. There are still hurried, frantic kisses, ones full of hunger and lust that leave your lips swollen and your thighs clenching with need, your entire body arching into his touch like a moth to a flame. But now, there are kisses without an agenda. Kisses with no beginning, middle, nor end. 

Just Kuroo’s mouth slotted against yours, a callused thumb brushing gently along the curve of your jaw.

But it’s casual, even if there’s a dull, quiet ache in your chest that protests otherwise each time his hands settle on your waist. 

And the completely, utterly, inarguably casual nature of your relationship is why you find yourself choking down the words you really want to say as Kuroo’s fingers curl inside of you right now, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you swallow down something that’s far too intimate for what this really is.

Tetsurou.

Tetsurou.

Tetsurou.

His given name is always caught in your throat at times like this, yearning to climb up your tongue and burst out through your teeth. 

Your name leaves his lips effortlessly, like it’s as easy as breathing. Like he hardly has to think twice. And the way his deep voice traverses each letter now, his lips slick with your arousal as he firmly slides his tongue over your clit? It drags down your spine with a white-hot, iron grip. 

It’s casual.

It’s fucking casual.

Your limbs are still trembling from the force of your first orgasm when he begins to ease his length into your entrance, your wet cunt welcoming the thick, familiar stretch of his cock. 

(You try not to think too hard about the fact that the exclusivity of your casual arrangement somehow led to this—no condom separating your tight, drenched walls from the leaking, pulsing need of his shaft.)

(And yet you still can’t fucking say it when you're like this with him, naked and vulnerable and wanting.)

(Tetsurou.)

(Tetsurou.)

Deep down, you know it’s because you’re scared.

You’re scared because he hasn’t mentioned the way you dance around it during sex. You’ve convinced yourself that despite how absolutely not casual this whole goddamn situation has become, the intimacy of using his name now is what will break the fragile glass of this façade you’ve both built. He’ll realize you’ve both grown too comfortable, too attached, roots burrowed and trapped beneath concrete. 

He’ll pluck you from his life like a hapless dandelion that’s sprouted between the unforgiving cracks in the sidewalk.

So even though his name is like a mantra in your mind as he cradles the side of your face, his hazel eyes trained on yours, black hair sticking up in every direction from the way you’d carded your fingers through it while his tongue was buried inside of you, you don’t say it.

“Kuroo,” you exhale as he drags his teeth down the side of your neck, mouthing at your collarbone while he rocks his hips into yours.

“Kuroo,” you gasp, while he rolls your pebbled nipples between his fingers and drives his cock into you so deeply you see stars.

“Kuroo,” you whimper, when his forehead falls against yours as his thrusts begin to grow sloppy.

And ever a man known for his timing, it’s then that Kuroo says it, with your sweat-slicked body writhing beneath his, voices hoarse and raw, your fingers digging into his back. 

“Tetsurou,” he breathes out, chest heaving against your own.

It catches you so off guard that all you can do is stare up at him in confusion, lips parted as his eyes search yours.

“Say it,” he implores, voice nearly breaking with desperation. “Please, say it.”

Warmth unravels in your chest like a sail catching in the wind, the insistence of your rapidly beating heart rattling against your ribcage. Kuroo’s nose brushes against your cheek before his mouth ghosts over your own, the beat of silence that stretches between you a yawning precipice.

“Tetsurou,” you finally whisper, a hot, wet tear sliding down your cheek. 

The mattress groans in protest as the world beneath you shifts, Kuroo swiftly tugging you upward into his lap. His lips chase the wet trail to the edge of your jaw while your legs curl around his waist, a jolt of pleasure searing through you as his cock slips even deeper inside of you.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, wrapping one strong arm around your body while the other cradles the back of your head. And with his chest pressed to yours, you can feel it—the way his own shuddering heart responds in kind. 

“Tetsurou.”

His breathing becomes ragged as he begins to fuck you with fervor, each pounding thrust upward punctuated by the sound of you crying out his name.

“Tetsurou.”

“Tetsurou.”

“TETSUROU!”

Your vision goes white as his dexterous fingers find their way back to your throbbing clit, massaging the pulsing, aching bundle of nerves while he swallows down your unabashed, sobbing moans, uncertain if you’re still screaming his name or just making unintelligible noises at this point. A heady, dizzying wave of pleasure pulls you under just as he buries himself inside of you to the hilt, the choking squeeze of your fluttering walls milking ropes of thick, hot cum from his cock and filling you to the brim.

He holds you tight as your breathing evens out and your shuddering limbs still, softening cock nestled snugly in the heat between your thighs, cum beginning to seep out and onto the sheets below. A hand caresses the side of your neck, fingertips grazing your ear as you lift your head from where it’s buried against the crook of his shoulder to find him looking at you with so much unabashed affection, your chest aches.

And your lips have only begun to form the shape of Tetsurou’s name once more when his mouth crashes back into yours.

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

hi snookums 🙏🏽 could You do somthin like this with Ghost & reader . ? reader can be civvie or js.. in the Military also & this is Her flat when off deployment

I saw this yesterday and I love this so much :(( Also this is very much hacker girl!Reader coded!! She's a talented hacker and has an unusual knack for survival but she's also so feminine and soft all over so the hyperfeminine pink room is right up her alley :((

Just,, imagine Ghost, this huge, burly military man who could be called incredibly masculine with his being all strength and muscle, the body hair, scars and tattoos only add to the image, not to mention his huge veiny cock and large, full and low hanging balls; it all paints a picture of a man in his prime, the peak of virility, just all man.

And yet there he is, asleep and cuddled deep into your fuzzy, warm pink blankets, your numerous, fluffy, powder pink pillows surround his large form in a sort of nest, a place he came to associate with safety, love and warmth. At first he was reluctant, bordering on refusing all the small luxuries your position granted you, saying that it was 'too excessive' for him, but after you saw his room, basically barren and empty safe for the military issued furniture and bed you knew that you had to convince him to indulge, even if a little bit :((

Now you literally can't get Simon off of your bed, your playful efforts always met with a grumpy growl and usually (always) end up with you pulled back into his body under your fluffy covers where Si nuzzles into your neck and falls back asleep with your scent in his nose and your warmth against his chest <3

krauser was mean to me..

Making out with her on my lap, feeling her pussy pulse as she tries to hide how wet she's getting, while I struggle to keep my cock from bulging through my pants. The tension building because neither of us wants to stop kissing the other, but we're both getting closer and closer to breaking and finally fucking