enter if you dare…

save a horse, ride a cowboy.

[filthiedwords]

you ⠀ know ⠀ the ⠀ rules ⠀. ⠀. ⠀.

#𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐃𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: — a ⠀nsfw ⠀sideblog ⠀for ⠀weepedwords, if ⠀you ⠀follow ⠀that, ⠀feel ⠀free ⠀to ⠀follow ⠀here! ⠀18+ ⠀only ! all ⠀posts ⠀tagged ⠀nsfw. ⠀no ⠀kink ⠀shaming. ⠀kinks ⠀tagged. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ muses. ⠀prompts.

[filthiedwords]

ghost ⠀& ⠀graves ⠀: ⠀NSFW ⠀ from ⠀here, ⠀(⠀@lt-ghxst ⠀).

as much as he hates to admit it, and therefore never will, this is not the first time he’s been pressed against a armoured truck. in the exact way that ghost is now, expect the last time it had happened, he was much younger, and if he could recall correctly, still went by phillip shepherd. though, in this moment he tries not to think too much about that. instead, he opts to focus on the way his cheek is pressed into the window. the coolness of it, making him unable to just zone out and just be overwhelmed by pleasure. instead, he is very aware of the teasing that’s gone on for the past half an hour. if it was any other time of day, graves would bark beg for the man to hurry up, least they be caught. however, the only men out at this time are the ones on patrol, and they will venture no where near the two. even the light only illuminates them a little, anyone would have to squint to be able to see what the two were doing. though, if ghost keeps teasing him, he wonders if anyone will come across them. that thought is swiftly interrupted by ghost finally giving the man what he wants — a slow thrust, and he’s finally inside him. he can’t help but moan, press back against him. there’s no skin on skin, something he finds himself liking but would never dare to ask ghost for. instead, there’s the feeling of leather on his neck as the other holds him in place. ghost speaks, and with their closeness, he is hyper aware of the breathe tingling on the back of his head, blowing through strands of blonde hair. be quiet, he can do that. yet, when thrusts inside him, he all but whines, even when he bites down on his lip to muffle it, it still hangs in the air. the pleasure is overwhelming, in the best of ways, and graves had to squeeze his eyes closed, let his head hang, as he tried to control himself. even if ghost had been the one to tell him to keep quiet, he feels as if the man is trying to challenge him, from the way he talks, to the names he calls him. it’s like the man knows what drives him crazy and purposely does it. then, his piercing is catching on him — and graves back arches, lips parting with a sinful, low moan, as his own gloved hand curls up. so much for being quiet.

[filthiedwords]

touch ⠀yourself ⠀for ⠀me. ⠀for ⠀chris. ⠀(⠀@biosurvive ⠀) ⠀.

he was pretty sure that this was not how tonight was suppose to go. the two were meant to go out for drinks, to kick back and relax after a long stressful day at the bsaa. yet, when they had finally got there, graves was only able to take one sip of his drink before there was someone that wasn’t chris flirting with him. phillip was more than happy to deal with it himself, with an eye roll and a remake that he was taken, and that the man could do better in his flirting tactics. though, he was never able to open his mouth before his boyfriend made his way over, the muscles and height an imposing figure that scared the man off before he could even speak. he was about to turn around and scold the man, as he could of dealt with it himself, just fine. instead, however, his eyes flicker, darkening at the way chris looks jealous. neither of them talk; and graves does not even protest that he never got a drink. they were in that bar for all about ten minutes before chris is dragging him back to theirs. the door is slammed shut, graves back pressed against it with a roughness that turns him on even more. lips meet in a deep kiss, though with chris there is always a linger is gentleness, as if he is trying to apologise that graves just adores. hands fumble, and touch at each others skin, sliding under shirts and across arms. their breathing mingles together, and graves is just about to let out a plea for more, grind against him, do something when chris pulls back. he doesn’t expect the demand that comes from the man’s lips, he was hoping that chris would touch him, himself. at last, graves is nothing but compliant under his man’s watchful gaze. he’d do anything the man tells him to, if he keeps speaking like that, if he keeps looking at him like that. his belt is tugged off, thrown hazardously to the side before he tugs his pants off, then his boxers. his palm as he does, brushes the bulge forming and he whispers, biting his lip. chris hasn’t changed his mind, it seems, so he keeps going. with no lube, he presses his tongue to his palm, licking a stripe to allow the friction to be more pleasant. the entire time, his stormy eyes keep contact with chris’, before he wraps a hand around his cock. he strokes once, testing the waters, it’s gentle. then another stroke, his one rougher, and he swipes his thumb over the tip at the end, moaning softly as he does. then, he stokes himself a third time. still, his eyes never leave chris.

[albagubrcth-deactivated20230818]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 : " usfw gif - 7 m/m . " ; @weepedwords

"𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍' 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘." the scotsman's voice is husky && low as he teases his cock at the entrance of phillip's mouth, smearing some of his saliva around on his swollen lips. "𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐈𝐓… 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘." soap moans softly, as he slides his dick slowly inside his lover's mouth, the feeling of his wet, hot tongue under his shaft was sensational.

"𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋, 𝐋𝐈𝐏. 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄?" he asks, only half of his cock resting inside phillip's open mouth. he does not give the man a chance to respond before he lazily pulls back, before shoving himself in again, going in further && undoubtedly hitting at the back of graves' constricting throat. "𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊... 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍'." he almost coos, his blue eyes watching as his cock slowly slid in && out, slickened by the commander's spit.

"𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓?" he smirks down at graves, the blue in his eyes almost completely taken over by his blown out pupils.

[filthiedwords]

johnny ⠀‘soap’⠀mactavish ⠀&& ⠀phillip ⠀graves. ⠀NSFW.

nice and slow. he can do that, as much he wants to just lean a bit closer and take johnny’s cock into his mouth. to do it at the pace he wants, rather than the man above him. yet, he’s not the one in charge. johnny, above him, thighs on either side of his chest, to pin him down is. all he can do, is wait. wait for an order or wait for him to give him what they both want. it’s the latter, that he does, and he groans softly when he feels his cock push past his swollen lips, surely red by now. the encouragement, the praise that comes from johnny’s lips — good boy — has graves working harder to please him, working his wet tongue under his shaft until he hears johnny moan. when he pulls back, he whimpers in protest, catching his breath as the man speaks. he’s about to reply, lips parting open to do so, when he shoves his cock back into his mouth. below johnny, he moans shamelessly at the feeling of him hitting the back of his throat, adam’s apple bobbing as he does. he can feel it, and graves takes a sharp breath before he’s swallowing around him, bobbing his head in time with his thrusts. johnny leads the way, using his mouth as he pleases, and graves relishes in it all, especially in the way he calls him darlin’. when he pulls back, granting his lover air, he takes it, panting softly as his salvia wettings the corner of his lips, and his chin. the question takes him a moment to answer, but when he does, it’s replied with an eager nod, and a soft, “ please. ”

[filthiedwords]

preoccupied. ⠀to ⠀rile ⠀up ⠀my ⠀muse. ⠀for ⠀simon ⠀riley. ⠀ ⠀ ( ⠀@lt-ghxst ⠀) ⠀.

in the depths of his room, graves is hidden away from most of the base. no glares from other members, or heads turning to mutter a disgruntled comment to their friends. there’s no words thrown at him, the insult hidden behind gritted teeth. he likes it this way, no one bothers him then. instead, he sits there, the laptop lighting up the dark room. on their previous retcon, they had managed to find a hard drive. one presumed to be owned by shepherd that could have valuable information. the man had managed to stay off the grid, and disappear when any attempt was made to find him. it annoyed his son to hell and back. just like everyone else on the task force, he wanted to find the man and bring him to justice, no matter what that justice maybe. even with his sole focus being on cracking this hard drive, his ears perk up, at his door opening and then closing. without a second thought, instincts take over, and his hand reaches under the desk where he knows a knife is neatly strapped under. only when his hand is inches away, it stops. the looming figure that entered his bedroom is ghost, and in this very moment he doesn’t perceive the man as a threat. he moves back to look at his laptop, and goes, “ if you’re here to check in, tell price i’m still working on it. ” he says dryly, having no time for any formalities. he half expects him to leave, ghost isn’t the type for idle conversation, so he begins typing again. only, moments later he feels a hand on the side of his body. he wonders, now, if he’s finally done something to betray ghost’s trust again and he’s come to finish the job. instead though, he feels ghost’s gloved hand slide further down his body, over every inch of skin he can touch, even if it is covered by his clothes. it makes his breathing tremble but he tries his best to ignore it. tries to focus on typing, but the keys are nothing but a nuisance to what his brain really wants, now. fingers flex, and he outwardly curses the man, before his hand finally gets to his crotch. it lingers just inches above for a few moments, then he presses the palm of his hand down, and he feel his cock twitch and harden at the rough touch, a small whimper leaving his lips as he does. eyes flutter, and the light in front of him from the laptop blurs, before he goes, “ ‘m ghost – i’m workin’ here.. ” as much as it is a protest, he never does tell the man to stop.

[filthiedwords]

@finalfuck ⠀: ⠀johnny ⠀‘soap’ ⠀mactavish ⠀from ⠀here ⠀(⠀ x ⠀).

lingering touches when no one was looking. whispered words as they watched the new recruits train. soap knew what he was doing and as much as graves hated to admit it: it was working. all the frustrations from the day, came bubbling to the surface when the two finally got behind closed doors. lust tainted his eyes, a whine catching in his throat when soap pulls away. the commanders plan was to drop to his knees — use his mouth to wipe the smug smile off his face. yet, his mind was clouded, and only when he felt the rough texture of a glove on his face, and soap speak, did he realise exactly what he said. a dark blush taints his cheeks, making his scar stand out even more against his cheek. he swallows down the lump in his throat and lets his gaze meet johnny’s, leaning into his touch. without hesitation, his lips part upon feeling his thumb ghost the skin there. he’s tempted to reply back, fumble some sort of excuse for himself. hope johnny would forget this, he’s said those words before. yet that was with a one night stand — he would see the man above him again. but then he’s commanding him. again. and shamefully, graves folds. he allows the digit to slip into his mouth, sucks on it, let’s the fabric dampen under his tongue, a whimper leaving his throat before he shyly appeases johnny, “ … daddy, please. ” a repetition, a secret leaves his lips.