Tumgik
escape-music1432 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Someone very Adam loving encouraged me to draw this bitch (there's a chunkier version of the angel on boosty)
3K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 4 months
Text
saw @theoriginaldick 's sinner!adam and exploded.
felt inspired to make my interpretation of it :) i imagine he'd slowly enjoy the hell life due to the fact he could flex his guitar skills and basically doing whatever the fuck he wants. hell, would be cool if he became a rockstar too
Tumblr media Tumblr media
7K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'm in love with him, clearly (alastor I'm sorry but I was charmed) 🍎
12K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
These two mother fuckers are actually making me scream violently and hit the wall
I can't do this right now
2K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 4 months
Text
If I had a nickel for every time a Hellaverse father was a depressed, lonely, wacky little guy, who is sort of alienated from his daughter due to circumstances but is trying his best, then I’D HAVE THREE GODDAMN NICKELS GODDAMMIT VIV I’M ALREADY SO ATTACHED GIVE ME A BREAK
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
13K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 4 months
Text
YALL IM-
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
IM LIGHTHEADED IM LIGHTHEADED IM LIGHTHEADED-
Btw his song from my playlist is Defying Gravity by Matt Copley I don’t make the rules💖
6K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
THE SIZE DIFFERENCE HOWLEE SHIT
1K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Star wars men you will always be famous, i’m in love with them.
17K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 5 months
Text
"Not all men..."
Yeah your right José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal would never treat me like this
14K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 5 months
Text
choking on water is the worst because how do you stop choking? drink something? well ive got some bad news for you
780K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 6 months
Text
full offense but none of you would have ever survived fanfiction.net in 2009
537K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
💦✨
4K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
✨✨
21K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 9 months
Text
2:25 AM
Tumblr media
Simon 'Ghost' Riley / Reader
Summary:  Simon returns home a little earlier than expected, and all he wants is a good night's sleep and the warm body of a person he loves.
Content:  coming-home-from-deployment, curvy! civilian girlfriend, domestic fluff, shared shower, jetlag, unprotected sex, lazy middle-of-the-night sex, fingering, hickeys, missionary, cum eating, oral
Word Count:  2.3k
Notes: Did I type this in one go (frenzied, horny and slightly tipsy), but still need to get up at 5:20 AM for work tomorrow? Yes. Was this stuck in my brain and demanded to be let out? Double yes. NOT FOR MINORS.
The key scraping against the door had her turning around in alarm, spatula clutched in her right hand as the other fumbled for something sharper, pointier.
Simon wasn't supposed to be home for another two weeks, and all she had on her was a fluffy towel and sheet mask - not exactly the proper attire to face a burglar. But Ghost, the Lieutenant not her boyfriend, had taught her how to defend herself. How to make an opponent bleed enough for them to back off or die as the consequence of assaulting her. 
Call me, if you ever have to kill someone, he'd said and stroked her cheek. I'll take care of the mess.
She'd laughed then, and teased him about being too far away to fix anything but now that the adrenaline was pumping through her veins, she started receiting his work number by heart over and over again.
Then the logical part of her brain kicked in, and wondered why on Earth a burglar or serial killer would bother with picking a lock in the first place. Wouldn't they just come smashing through the window-
The door swung open silently, a large gloved hand groped for the light switch in the entrance way and then suddenly he was there, bathed in the soft light of the lamp they'd bought together when they first moved into their shared flat.
Simon still wore a dark mask that covered his mouth and nose, and she stared, flabbergasted, as he methodically removed his gloves and black beanie, dumping his heavy backpack next to the umbrella stand.
"Si?" She whispered, and he flinched, chocolate brown eyes swivelling up to hers as he made an aborted motion, like he was reaching for a holster that wasn't there.
"Focken hell, luv," he slurred, words distorted from lack of sleep. The dark purple rings under his eyes spoke of the long journey he'd taken, and she'd lost track of where in the world he was fighting against evil at this point. "Ye look like a damn axe murderer with that."
He gestured vaguely towards her face, and with a laugh that turned into a sob halfway, she dropped everything she'd been holding, ripped off the overpriced skincare and flung herself into his arms. Simon swayed a bit, and he still smelled of desert dust and faraway places but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered in that moment but him, the feel of his strong arms around her as he lifted her up like she weighed nothing, and pressed his warm cheek against hers.
She quickly pulled his face mask down, and Simon sighed as she kissed him, smiling as she peppered kisses all over his face.
"You didn't tell me you'd be back so early!" She complained, pulling him back into a bone-crushing hug. "I haven't been shopping for all your favourite treats yet!"
"'S fine," he mumbled, then buried his face into her shoulder, sagging a little as he put her back down. "Jus' wanted to be home with you."
Tears threatened to constrict her throat, and she swallowed against it, massaging the back of his head and short curly hair the way he liked.
"Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, hm?" Her voice was only a whisper, but Simon nodded and let her guide him down the short corridor and into the darkness of the bathroom. They left the door open, allowing the light to pour in that way and she helped him strip out of the black joggers and long sleeve he'd been wearing, crouching down to untie his shoelaces. 
Under normal circumstances, the heated look he was giving her from above would have been enough for her to stay on her knees for him, but she knew that Simon was running on fumes. As flattering as the bulge in his tight briefs was, it was more of a reaction to be reunited after so long, than actual desire.
She pulled the soft cotton down his muscular thighs, grinning at the relieved hiss he let out when he was completely bare. Pushing him into the shower was easy, and when she stripped off her towel, it was only so she could join him and wash his skin thoroughly. 
Simon's hands wandered over her hips and breasts, and he pulled her in for a deep kiss but let her do whatever she pleased after that. She massaged his shoulders and back with soapy hands, ran her hands down his solid but thick abdomen, and even gripped his half-hard cock for a moment. 
He groaned and leaned his head against her shoulder, but then she moved her hands up and over into his hair and neck and Simon practically purred.
Blissed out and half asleep, he barely registered her removing the shower head from its mount and running it all over him, washing the suds down the drain and warming his chilled skin.
"Gonna put on your bathrobe for me, babe?" She asked softly, and Simon grunted as she turned off the water. They fumbled out of the shower and struggled a bit until he was wrapped up in black fluffy cotton. Storm trooper, she'd called him many times before whenever he wore this particular monstrosity. 
He let her lead him into their shared bedroom, thankfully tidy and clean, and belly-flopped onto the soft mattress. Simon was out within moments, breathing in the scent of fresh linen and her, mind at ease for the first time in forever.
With a smile, she quickly fetched a glass of water for them both, brushed her teeth and then marvelled at the sight of her boyfriend sprawled out on the bed.
Simon was early by almost two weeks, and her heart made a double-flip as she thought of the fact that it was the weekend now and she'd have two uninterrupted days with him before she had to go back to work. 
Her eyes wandered over the exposed calves and feet, the long fingers that clutched into her comforter, the translucent brows and lashes.
She changed into her pyjama bottoms and top, snuggling up next to the mountain of black robes and pale skin. Simon's deep breathing never changed as she wrapped one arm and leg around him, burying her face into his damp neck as she fell asleep, completely forgetting about her plan to stay awake all night to prepare for her night shifts.
The next time she awoke, it was still dark outside. Disoriented, she tried to place the warmth on top of her, the mouth that sucked into her skin with enough pressure to leave light pink bruises and made her pussy wet from the suction alone. Broad hands and long fingers were gripping her waist, and Simon's thigh was gently pressed between her legs, rubbing up and down.
She moaned and groped for him in the darkness as he sucked at her skin harder, moving on to her collarbones and breasts, then nipples as he went. He was still wearing the bathrobe, but it was sliding off his shoulders, revealing scarred skin and rippling muscles to her greedy fingers as she roamed over him.
"Si?" She panted and he hummed, fingers pulling her top down until both of her boobs were framed by the fabric, exposed to his hungry mouth. 
"I could eat you alive," he mumbled against her skin, then his calloused fingertips ran lower, exposing her stomach as he kneaded the soft skin there and slipped beyond, into her loose shorts.
The breath was knocked out of her as sure fingers rubbed over her embarrassingly slick folds, pushed deeper, and then withdrew only to circle her clit lazily. 
"You- you should rest," she stammered but pushed her chest against his mouth and clenched around nothing when he dipped two of his fingers into her and pulled out in the same motion.
"Can't sleep right now," he growled, then plunged his fingers back in, stretching her needy core a bit more. "D'you want me to stop, sweetheart?"
She'd rather die.
"N-no."
"Good," he growled, then captured her mouth in a sloppy kiss that involved a lot of tongues and hitched breaths as his fingers worked away at her. A third soon joined the others, and she whimpered, throwing her head back as he diligently prepared her for his cock. Her hips jerked whenever the ball of his hand brushed against her clit, and her fingers drew painful welts against Simon's shoulders and back, finally disrobing him fully and pulling him on top of her.
"Please Si," she whined, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer until her wet core was pressed against the hardness between his thighs. "Waited so long for you to come home."
He groaned and steadied himself with one arm next to her head, gripping his heavy cock with one hand and brushing the weeping head over her clit and opening several times. The darkness made it hard to see him, but the feel and taste of his skin were enough that night. 
She knew that Simon's eyes were a dark pool of molten chocolate right now, that his forehead would be creased in concentration. 
At the first breach, she clutched the soft sheets underneath her, pushing her hips into him, impatient. They both hissed, her from the slight discomfort of his girth and him from her tightness, but then she hooked her ankles behind his lower back and pulled him in.
Simon came to rest inside of her with a groan, sleep-warm skin pressed against her cheek as he started to move slowly, savouring it.
There was no rush, only the underlying currents of sleep and weariness that were soaked deep into both their bones as they moved against each other. Skin against skin, the slight sheen of sweat on his back, the trembling of her core and thighs whenever he hit a little too deeply from this angle.
Simon caged her face with his arms, hands in her hair as they kissed.
"I love you," he murmured, over and over again as her eyes rolled back into her head, mouth open as he buried himself inside her. "Missed you so much."
"Missed you, too," she panted, clutching onto him, chest constricting as his hips rutted harshly and strong hands lifted her hips and ass onto him.
Neither of them reached between their bodies to stimulate her clit any more, because they both knew that it would be the end of it. As soon as Simon felt her contract around him, he usually followed and they both weren't ready, needed more from this. Craved that prolonged connection.
His orgasm wasn't a grand spectacle of growls and lovebites like it sometimes was. Instead, Simon huffed into her neck as his movements stuttered, and she felt his lashes flutter against her sweaty skin.
There was a sticky warmth that filled her, overflowed as he kept moving a little while longer.
She'd been happy like that, content not to come in all honesty, because the fact that her lover was back in her arms was more climactic than anything her body could produce.
But Simon had always been a greedy man, eager to please and obsessed with making her soul sing out to him through pleasure. 
He withdrew, and they both hissed. Then a warm, wet mouth left a trail down her body, latching onto her thighs. Teeth and tongue worked into her soft skin, sucking harshly and then massaging the sore spot with thick fingers before moving higher and lapping at her slit that was slowly oozing his own release.
"Oh my fucking god," she moaned, clutching at his soft hair as her hips jerked into his face and suddenly he was on her, gripping her hips roughly and eating her pussy out like it was his last meal.
His tongue lapped at her clit, then her sensitive, still stretched-out entrance. Simon slid one finger into her, curled it just right and pumped it in and out rapidly, tongue fluttering.
He rumbled something between her thighs, but if it had been praise or a command, she didn't know and didn't care. Back arching, she clutched her sensitive breasts and pinched her nipples as he sucked and sucked. Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids, and if their neighbours didn't know that Simon had returned by now, they probably knew now.
Unable to hold in the high-pitched whine, she shuddered against his slick face over and over again, trying to get away from the immediate overstimulation as her orgasm crashed through her and eager for more.
Simon continued to suckle and lap at her clit for a while, the sounds obscene and so damn satisfying that she was glad for the darkness that obscured her crimson blush.
"Missed the sounds you make," he growled softly, voice faraway and sleepy as he slotted his entire weight and body against hers, crushing her into the mattress. "Missed your sweet taste."
"Simon!" She complained, embarrassed as she hid into his neck and he dragged his soft cock between their messy bodies for a few seconds, obviously just enjoying the moment.
"Sleep now, love," he sighed, flopping onto his side and pulling her head onto the thick pillow of his bicep, naked body intertwined with hers. "I'll keep watch over you."
Tumblr media
I have no words. Just wanted soft, jetlagged and horny Ghost. That's all.
You can find my other COD works here! 🤍
9K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 9 months
Text
Handle It
Tumblr media
Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader WC: 5.1k Summary: Reader is taking a shower and someone decides to crash the party. Warnings: 18+ Exhibitionism (risk of getting caught), shower sex (kinda), SUB SIMON, teasing, begging, sub to dom to…sub, finger sucking, oral, fingering, penetration, overstimulation, spit, creampie
Hot water beads down your back. Well, maybe that’s a bit too generous. It’s hardly trickling out of the showerhead above you, and the water’s lukewarm at best. But it feels great, your eyes are closing, your muscles are relaxing, and you almost forget that it’s a communal shower. That anyone could walk in and join you at another showerhead, there’s several in here, meant to get a group of people clean to save time. Time’s important in the military, you know this. So does everyone else, but there’s an unspoken rule. If someone’s in the showers, you don’t join unless absolutely necessary.
Which is why you’re allowing yourself this moment. You’d announced to the group that you were hitting the showers after the operation. And true to your word, as soon as you’d stepped out of the vehicle, you beelined it to the building. Soap joked about joining you, earning a punch from someone in result. You hadn’t cared to look behind you to confirm who it was, instead you’d waved a hand over your shoulder, acknowledging that you’d heard him, but wasn’t threatened by his constant yet harmless flirts. It was how you two communicated. It was a nice break in the violence and mayhem Task Force 141 found yourselves in. Even if Ghost and Price rolled their eyes at the banter, you could tell it eased their nerves at times. It’s hard to hold onto humanity when you see the worst of it day end and day out.
Getting the bar of soap into your hands, you rub it against your skin, ridding yourself of the dirt and grime from today’s work. It’s normal to get dirty doing what you do, and yet no matter how you wash yourself, it feels as though you’re never clean. You’d scrubbed your skin raw once, after a mission, coming out of the showers with irritated skin. Still. You were never clean. Today didn’t feel like that. The operation went well. There was no killing, no torture, and for once, it was an easy day. You want to savor this feeling, knowing that today went right, how relaxing the water is, feeling somewhat clean despite the past.
A knock rings through the showers, bouncing off the walls. The soap slips through your fingers as you jump with sound, the relaxing feeling you had now long gone. The knock has authority to it. It has impatience. Gritting your teeth, you rinse off quickly before turning the knob to shut the water off. You leave the poor soap on the ground, moving to the cement wall separating the showers from the door of the building.
“What?” You call out, a little irritated. Sure, you’d been in here for a bit longer than normal. But it was the one time you’d actually felt…nice.
A deep voice from behind the closed door comes to you. You resist an urge to roll your eyes. Ghost.
“Been in there a bit. Other people would like to clean themselves before heading in for the night.”
This, you do roll your eyes at. He’s right. You’re hogging the shower, but there’s an unspoken…thing you have against Ghost. He’s stoic and a bit miserable to be around if you’re being honest. He’s too serious, all the time, he never likes to have fun, and if you and Soap are going back and forth, he’s got to voice his displeasure. You secretly think he’s jealous. You think that he either is jealous of the relationship you have with Soap, or he’s jealous of Soap. Probably the former since you two can hardly stand each other.
Sighing out, you cross your arms over your naked chest. Right, you’d almost forgotten where you were.
“Well,” you start out, a bit snarky, “there’s always room, Lt.”
You’re joking, obviously, already moving to wrap a towel around your body. Without waiting for whatever response your lieutenant is trying to muster up, you cross the space from the cement wall to the door, hand gripping the handle to wrench it open.
There he is, in all his glory, towering over you. He’s ditched the mask he wears in operations or important meetings, donning his comfortable skulled balaclava. In fact, he’s changed out of most of his gear. Bare hands, black Henley shirt rolled up to his elbows. Of course, his lower half is clothed in his usual black pants, and he still has his boots on. Yet he looks more naked and vulnerable than you do in your little white towel. He looks at a loss of words.
A playful look crosses your features, a smirk teasing your lips as you prop a hand on your hip. Before you can get a word out, Ghost shifts forward quickly with a grumble tumbling out of his chest, pushing you back into the building with his presence alone. You frown a bit as you move backwards to accommodate his size as the door behind him closes you both in, confused as he glares down at you.
“Christ, could you not waltz around in nothing but bloody a towel?”
Another attempt to not roll your eyes comes over you. “What’re you, shy? It’s not like I’m completely naked.” You gesture at yourself; it’d be as if you were wearing a strapless dress. Granted, the towel is tiny, you’re wet from the shower, and you’re definitely not wearing any panties. Still, you had no idea Ghost was such a prude.
“Really?” Ghost’s gaze trails hotly down the front of your body. Suddenly your face feels hot. He’s never once looked at you like this. Like he’d…
A shaky breath escapes you before you laugh it off, “If you can’t handle me in a towel after shower, I doubt you’d be able to handle being around me in the actual showers.” You jerk a thumb over your shoulder as you watch his gaze follow it behind you. He can see the room of showers over the wall. You think you see his jaw clench under his mask.
This is bad. You’re jokingly teasing him the way you and Soap talk. This is uncharted territory, and you’re not sure you can keep the act up. With Soap, it’s harmless fun. You both know you’re not interested in each other. It’s easy to try to get a reaction out of each other, to see who says the most ridiculous shit first. It’s a stupid game. With Ghost, it’s dangerous. It’s nerve wrecking. It’s serious because he’s serious.
Suddenly he’s looking back down at you. You try not to fidget as you stare back at him. You can’t read him. You’re about to talk to break whatever this tension is, about to tell him the showers are his.
“No, I probably can’t.”
Did his voice drop an octave? Why was it making your skin heat? What was going on right now? You feel like your brain is malfunctioning. Your gaze drops down to the broad slope of his shoulders, and down his frame, distracted a bit. Of course, he’s attractive. You’d be insane to not think so. Even if you’ve never seen his face. It’s the way he holds himself, it’s the way he’s built, it’s his damned voice, and his eyes and everything else. But he’s your lieutenant for Christ’s sake. He’s mean sometimes. He’s ruthless, a brute, a –
“Let me see. I want to try. To… handle it.”
You freeze, eyes shooting back up to his. “You -?”
His chin dips to your towel, “Take it off.”
For a moment, you’re both watching each other. Ghost’s got his eyes on yours, unwavering. He’s really serious about this, you realize. Your thighs are clenching together now, trying to relieve the ache. You were joking, you think, about him not handling it in the showers. Now you’re thinking maybe you’re the one who can’t.
Shakenly, your hands raise to the knot tied at your breast. Your actions stop for a moment, silently waiting for him to tell you to stop. The command never comes. You can’t believe you’re doing this, bearing yourself for your broody and moody higher up. For him. All because you don’t want to back out on what you started. Suddenly, you want to prove him wrong. That he can’t handle it. That you’re not affected at all by his words or actions, or more importantly his inactions. The towel drops.
It’s loud with how silent it is in the room. Who knew a damp towel could be so loud? Your gaze doesn’t leave his, holding it, even as you stand bare in front of him. A smirk quirks your lips. He’s avoiding looking at you. That’s how he thinks he can move around the situation at hand.
Testing him, your hand brushes against your own collarbone, trailing slowly -- tantalizingly slow. Still, his eyes never wander from your own. So, this is how you could play games with Ghost. It’ll be fun to see him break.
“You’re not looking,” you start, stating the obvious.
“Never said I had to. Only said that I could handle being around you.” He shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he won the game.
You laugh a little at that, and watch his eyes ever so slightly dip to your lips before coming back up to your eyes. Your own hands are wandering your body now, groping a bit at your chest. His hands clench at his sides.
“Are you going to take a shower, Lt?” A breathless noise leaves you as you ask, your fingers pinching one of your nipples. Fuck him. You’re so turned on right now it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t have to look. Just the thought of being here in front of him while he’s fully clothed doing this, while the two of you are alone and anyone could walk in –
“No. And quit that.” He growls out, knocking your hand away from your breast. He still hasn’t looked, but you’re guessing he’s getting a view from his peripherals.
“Quit what?” You feign innocence, your hand that’d been knocked away now dips in between your thighs eliciting a soft moan from your lips. “You said you’d try. If you’re not going to take a shower, you can watch.”
Ghost has no words for you now, his pupils dilating before your very eyes. Spreading your legs a bit wider to get a better reach on yourself, you continue. Slow pressing circles on your clit, your arousal slicking loudly in the air. Your free hand goes back up to your tits, to continue groping, pinching, pulling.
Finally, he breaks. He breaks when your pussy squelches around your own fingers, his burning gaze trailing down your body to the hand that’s pulling such noises out of you. A groan sets loose from him, and you shudder from the mere sound.
“Kneel.”
Ghost’s eyes shoot back up to yours in question.
“Kneel, I said. You can get a better look.” Your tone is set in stone. Despite the burning ache you’ve got, the need for him to touch you, you feel in control.
He hesitates for a moment before lowering himself down to the ground, knees pressing against the cement. His eyes have yet to leave yours.
“You can look but don’t touch.” Your breath hitches, arousal seeping into your very being seeing him like this. Listening to your commands. You watch his hands clench on his thighs, his attention going back to your pussy. Your breath hitches at his stare, feeling the heat of it. He doesn’t have to touch for you to feel his attention. It’s making you sloppy, messy, and wet. You keen, a brief thought of asking him to touch you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Staring down at him as your fingers continue to tease yourself, you watch him just as intently as he’s watching you. He seems fixated. You wonder if he’s drooling in his own mask. The front of his pants looks tight. His hands are clenching and unclenching on his thighs, his shoulders shuddering when you make a noise in the back of your throat. You watch him tense as you ease a finger in yourself. Your clit is throbbing, aching, begging for attention, you’re teasing yourself just as much as you’re teasing him. Slowly pumping the one finger in yourself, you press another one in, mewling out as your hips buck a little upward.
“Let me taste you.” He rushes out suddenly. Ghost’s voice is gravel, scrapping across your body. Your head nearly tips back at the sound of it, another pitiful noise leaving your mouth.
 Stay strong. Stay strong. You shake your head, unable to give him an actual answer as your fingers create a devastatingly slow pace, slick coating your fingers and thighs.
“Fuck. What’ll take? Let me taste you.” He’s demanding now, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the material over his thighs.
You pant, trying not to stammer. “Beg.” It comes out stronger than you feel right now. Core burning with the need to come.
“Please.” He grits out through his teeth, angry eyes coming up to your glassy ones.
“You don’t sound sincere.” You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head again. Your fingers pause, coming out to press softly against your clit. If you press any harder, you have no doubt you’ll come. You don’t want to give it to him yet. Ghost watches the action, a growl coming from him.
“Please,” he tries again, looking back up at you to see if it was good enough. It’s not and you tsk at him. “Please, let me taste your pussy. Let me put my mouth on you. Please.”
The last plead is strained, almost a whine. Your fingers dip back in, curling as you pump them again. Your head falls forward a bit with a whine of your own and you try to gather your bearings. “How are you going to taste me with your mask on?”
Quickly, he tugs it upward, only exposing his mouth. Christ. His mouth. He’s got a scar running down his lips. His jaw is clenched, and you curse whoever created him. He’s handsome, even if you’re only seeing the bottom half of his face. You watch his tongue tease his full bottom lip, his mouth opening into a soft pant. He’s eager. You catch another whine in your throat, fingers leaving your pussy to press against his mouth, covered in your own wetness. He opens his mouth, latching onto them, sucking and licking, taking anything you have to offer.
You watch with a newfound feeling. Here you have your lieutenant on the ground, kneeling and begging, sucking your fingers like it’s his God given right. Like he has something to prove. That he’s desperate enough to be debased to nothing. He’s moaning at the taste of you, following your fingers as they leave his mouth, like he’s not ready to stop cleaning yourself from them. He’s tilting closer as he watches them disappear back to your throbbing sex.
“No,” you tell him, stopping him from following your fingers all the way, “that’s all you get.” You moan out, your fingers wet with his spit now circling your clit. You need to come like this, having him at his knees in front of you.
“W-wait. Please. I’ll do anything. Fuck, please. Let me give you what you want, I can make you cum. With my mouth please –”
His begging sends you over the edge, not stopping as you cry out loudly, pussy clenching on nothing as your fingers circle and circle. It’s long and crippling, and you almost feel your knees buckle, your free hand gripping the cement wall behind you. Fuck, he’s not shutting up. It drags it out, hearing him whine and beg, a man who you thought could never be like this. You rip your hand away from yourself, panting, thankful for the wall behind you holding you up. Your thighs are quivering and wet from the orgasm, breath trying to catch up to your pounding heart.
Ghost is quiet now, looking up at you, waiting for your next move. His mouth parts, like he’s going to start up again and you hush him.
“Clean me up.”
You barely have the sentence out before he’s shooting forwards, hands gripping your thighs to make room for himself. He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, tongue latching onto your already overstimulated clit. You cry out, hands shooting up to his masked head, trying to pull him away as he laps at your cream.
“A-ah, wait, Simon –” You start, squirming, trying to get away from his mouth and tongue. You feel him smile, the bastard.
“Think you can tease me like that? Huh?” He growls as he laps at you, tongue not missing an inch of your pussy. His words vibrate through you, not bothering to really pull away to talk. He’s violent in the way his mouth attacks you. “Think you can just do what you want to me?”
You stutter, about to apologize until he starts to add his fingers to the mix. Two thick fingers of his slam into you, pumping up as his tongue flicks your clit. You cry out, tears in your eyes as you take it. He’s going to make you come again, this fast. Too fast. You feel dizzy, vision fuzzy.
“Making me sit in front of this pretty pussy and not letting me touch or taste it.” He groans, and then chuckles as you bare down on his fingers, clenching hard. “Oh, you gonna come again pretty baby? Come on then.”
He’s mean. Meaner than you were to him. You’re panting, quivering, and aching, your pussy making obscene noises as he assaults all of your senses. You know you’re coming before you feel it. Like a delayed reaction. Gasping and bucking, he’s saying something again that you can’t register because your hearing leaves you, your sight leaves you, every sensation and thought is gone as you cry out, coming and coming again. Somehow in the midst of it, his fingers and mouth leave as you come back down to your body, and he’s holding you up, thank God. You doubt the wall behind you would’ve helped at all. Your fingers are clenched on the material of his mask, and as you blink down at him, chest heaving, you see his wet mouth smirk.
A flash of fear goes through you. This was the Ghost you know. The ruthless, cold, domineering, Simon Ghost Riley. Not the man that’d been on his knees begging. Not the man who’d let you command and tease him. He sets down the leg that’d been over his shoulder. You’re not sure if you’re still completely all together. He stands to his full height, and you shiver, trying to sink yourself back into the wall behind you as much as you can. His hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it gently as he tilts your head back.
“Open.”
You obey, lips parting, mouth opening. Nothing could prepare you for what he does next. He leans into you, pressing up hard against you, lips barely hovering your own. He spits. Fluid enters your mouth, and you moan, swallowing it up. It’s your own arousal, sweet and warm and oh. Your wet lashes flutter shut as Ghost licks the seam of your closed mouth, lapping at you before he nips and bites and kisses you. The kiss he’s giving you isn’t gentle. It’s consuming and you cry into it as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, sliding up to his neck to haul him closer to you. He answers your cry with a groan of his own, his hands cupping your ass to lift you up. Your legs come around him, locking your ankles behind his back to keep him close. Your sensitive pussy is pressed and rubbing against pants, the feeling abrasive and raw but you can’t stop from grinding against him.
 “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” Simon mutters against your lips, licking and biting still. You’re breathless and whimpering against him, his words going straight to your core as you move against him. He’s helping you, moving with your hips, matching you move for move. You’re distracted, unable to give him an answer as you kiss him back, your trembling fingers sliding a bit under his mask to grasp the back of his neck. He hisses out in pain when your nails dig in. “I’ll give you anything baby, please. Just say the words.”
“I – I want…” you gasp, your clit pressing against the seam of his pants. You can feel his length hard and heavy against you.
“Fuck, please. Please tell me.” He’s begging again, rutting his hips up against you, hands keeping you still as he continues.
“I want you.” Is all you can muster; all you can think about saying. You swear your brain isn’t working correctly. Even before this started. You must’ve hit your head during the mission.
"Want me? Want me to what?” He stops moving.
You groan out in frustration, head tipping back a bit before you look up at him. “Please, Simon. You’re teasing me now.” You’re not sure you like how quickly the tables have turned.
Ghost laughs a bit, breathless himself. You think he’s going to drag it out further until he sees the pout furrowing your brow. “Alright. I am. I’ll give it to you.” He still keeps you wrapped up against him, one hand holding you, the other going in between the two of you. His knuckles brush against your bare sex and you moan lowly, watching him unbuckle his pants, pulling his hard cock out. Precum is dripping down the length of it and your throat dries at the sight of him.
Concern must be showing on your face with how big he is. Another chuckle from him, “You can take it pretty baby.” Your concern dies out as he slides the length against your wet pussy and you bite down on lip, trying to contain your noises. You want him in you, size be damned. He runs the tip up and down once more before pressing against your entrance, pushing in slowly. This time, you can’t contain the low moan you have. He gives it to you slowly, pumping his hips up into you, letting you adjust to his size. It’s stretching you open, and you feel like he’s splitting you in half. It’s heavy and deep and throbbing –
“Oh.” You let out, almost surprised it feels so good. Addicting. You feel drunk.
A sadistic laugh comes from the man in you, his cock slowly pumping into you. He’s being nice, giving it to you this softly. His hands are pulling you back onto his cock, pinning you against the wall and his hard body. Your legs tighten around him as your nails dig into his shoulders.
“That’s it. It’s all yours, isn’t it?” Ghost dips down to nip your lips as you whimper. “Been wanting this pussy wrapped around me for so long, baby. Fuck.” He moans lowly as you keen at his words, clenching around his girth. “Teasing me when you have no idea what I’d do to you. For you.”
He’s going slow, dragging this out as long as possible. He’s pressing in deep, rolling his hips before pulling slowly back, letting you feel every inch of him before starting all over again. It’s driving you insane. It feels like it’s going on forever, his slow thrusting. He rocks into your soaking cunt, easing his throbbing cock in you smoothly and repeatedly. Ecstasy has taken hold of every fiber of your being. You hardly feel conscious, as his words lull you into lust, his cock pacifying you into drunken state. He won’t shut up again as you cry against his lips.
“Pussy feels so good. So good. Fuck. You can have this dick whenever you want baby, just say the word and it’s yours.” He moans lowly, the sloppy sounds of your pussy and his hips thumping into you with languid strokes are overpowering your thoughts. His words make your pussy clamp down on him and he moans again, not afraid to let you hear how good you’re making him feel.
“Si—” you gasp, mouth falling open against his, trying to pull him up closer to you.
“Tell me. Tell me, sweetheart. Fuck.” He rasps against you, his hips stuttering slightly at the sound of your broken moans.
“F-fuck me. Please fuck me. Simon, please.” You beg, not afraid to be pulled down to your knees like he had been. To be debased to nothing just as you had done to him.
He’s not just pliant, he’s willing. Eager again to please you. You know he could’ve done what you had to him, teased you, made you beg more, made you want and want and need. But he gives it to you, just like he promised he would. Your pussy flares as his thrusts get heavier, deeper, faster, rougher. It’s destroying you as much as it’s freeing you and your eyes roll back a bit. God, you’re going to cum again.
A knock sounds. Not unlike the one Ghost pounded on the door earlier. You gasp, trying to stop running to the hurdle you’re launching towards. Your body doesn’t get the memo, or doesn’t care, and it certainly seems Ghost couldn’t care less that someone is right outside the door. The man makes a frustrated noise, at you or the knock, you’re not sure. He clamps his hand down over your mouth as you try to contain the noises you’re currently making. You want to tell him to stop, someone’s right there, but he keeps fucking you. God, he’s so mean and cruel and –
“Lt?”
Your heart shudders in fear. Soap. No, God, no one can see this. Ghost fucking you against the wall, completely clothed, unrushed. Despite the fear of being caught, you feel a whine catch in your throat as you thrash again Simon’s relentless fucking. He hushes you quietly, slamming roughly into you now. You stop a squeal, but just barely, a loud yet pathetic squeak leaving you as euphoria bursts through you, pussy convulsing around his cock.
“Just a sec, Johnny.” Ghost throws over his shoulder, a smile playing on his handsome face. He hardly sounds phased even when just moments ago he was the one loudly moaning into your mouth. He hardly sounds winded even with the rough thrusts he’s delivering into you, fucking you through your orgasm. You claw weakly at his chest, angry at him, still coming down from the heaven he just gave to you.
You think Soap leaves, you’re not sure, but Ghost moves his hand from your mouth, back to your ass to bring down onto his cock. He’s using you now, making you meet him thrust for thrust, drilling your G-spot with such precision that your vision fades for a second.
“No, look at me. That’s it. Good girl. You’re so pretty baby. Such a good girl. You gonna let me fill you up now? Haven’t I been good enough for you? Huh?” He’s mocking a bit, but serious. His own form of a joke that you have no power or brain to call him out on. All you’re feeling, all you’re thinking about is his cock ravaging you from the inside, still, overstimulated. Your body hardly cares. It’s right there, right at the edge, ready to jump and to give him your all. You’re too dumb, blinded with pleasure, staring up at him as he growls down at you, throbbing cock ready to give it to you when you say the words. Maybe he really is under your command after all.
A whine comes from you, frantically nodding to him, hands scrambling on him to try to find solid ground while you’re in a different time and space with the fucking he’s giving you.
“No, you have to tell me baby. Fuck, tell me I’m good baby. Tell me I was good, and I can fill you up.” Simon’s begging, whining lowly in the back of his throat, his hips getting sloppier and shorter, pounding into you.
“You’re good. You’re good. Simon, you’re good. It’s so good. Please, pleasepleaseplease come in me.” You’re begging, sobbing, actually, tears streaming down your face as you try to catch up with your body. It hurts, it hurts so fucking good, you make a long and agonized noise against his mouth, he’s kissing you again, sucking your tongue, running his against your teeth, pulling sucking overstimulating –
Simon makes his own devastated noise, a low and shattering groan of pleasure and you feel it just as you’re coming, milking him into you. His cock is surging into you, pumping hot cum with each deep thrust. He’s grinding into you, fucking you both through your orgasms, making you see stars as you cry into his mouth, fingers tearing into his back through his shirt. His hips finally still after what seems to be eternity, your pussy still clenched around him. He keeps himself deep in you as you both try to gather your bearings as well as your breath. You’re staring at each other, panting, chests heaving. He brings a shaky hand up to your cheek, cupping it as he runs his thumb over your tears. The tenderness makes your heart clench. All he’s done tonight surprised you. He leans down to place a kiss against your lips as tenderly as the thumb that stroked you. You kiss him back gently, a little worried where this was going to leave the two of you.
He pulls back, eyes bouncing in between your own. He seems to sense your worry and he sighs, pulling out slowly. You almost want to cry at the loss of him. Ghost sets you down steadily, keeping his hands on you as you wobble, legs weak. You hold onto him and look back up, ready to question what the hell this meant. He shakes his head a bit and nods towards the showers.
“I think I can handle taking a shower with you. But it’s gotta be quick baby.”
Shocked, you stare at him incredulously before you burst out into a terrible laughing fit. You’d almost forgotten how you got here in the first place. You watch his mouth quirk up into his own smile before he starts to laugh a little too. You grab his hand, tugging him with you towards the showers.
“C’mon then big boy. Show me how you handle it.”
4K notes · View notes
escape-music1432 · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
Uhmmm sir??? 👀
6K notes · View notes