#graves x f!reader

[reveluving]

Phillip Graves getting jealous because his shy wife is getting flirted on by someone else but she doesn't know how to respond?? Yes please!!

(could be sfw at first but when they get back home graves pounds his wife against any surface he sees because he can't stand seeing his wife getting flirted on right in front of him)

YUUUUH I HAVE JUST THE THING!! I know, it's been AGES with these, and this one from last year but I still hope you like it! and I know you said doing the nasty back home, but I thought "man, I'm already here. might as well!" and filthy-ize(???) it even more for good measure 😘💗

Includes; soft (& slightly mean dom) & possessive graves, fingerf~cking, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('sugar', 'pretty girl'), licking, biting & marking, praising, dirty talking, mentions of voyeurism & exhibitionism!!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

It happens. 

A lot.

The library, your favourite diner, your flower shop—anywhere.

It happens more than you can imagine, but with Phil around, it’s mostly from afar. The kind where they could only dream about making a move on you, if not for the guard dog with the sharp tongue.

Hence, when he’s not around, he worries a little for you, but he knows you can protect yourself when needed, thanks to the self-defence lessons he has given you when you were still dating.

So, imagine the unlucky bastard who thought it was a good idea to take advantage of your gracious hospitality, not knowing your husband was around.

It happened when he had finished work, but instead of heading home, he took the route where your flower shop was. Closing time was ten minutes ago so he knew you’d be waiting for him at the cafe next door, probably nursing a cup of your favourite drink or nibbling on a pastry.

He hated it whenever he couldn’t reach you on the dot or before, no matter how many times you’ve reassured him. 

Reaching the neighbourhood shops was like a breath of fresh air, enjoying the sense of familiarity and the breeze as he turned the corner, passing by the cafe first.

But with a glance, his brows furrowed, seeing that you were nowhere in sight. He quickly took it as a sign that you were still working, though a thirty-minute overtime was almost uncommon of you.

He parked his convertible close to the entrance of your shop but still out of view, and for a brief moment, he caught sight of you through the window. 

And just his mood lifted, ready to greet you with open arms, his smile dropped.

You were dealing with a customer, a man likely in his 30s and dressed, well, if one were told to dress formally, and they did it haphazardly, then that was exactly what it was. His body language was a little awkward, almost unsure what pose may look alluring in your eyes.

Though Phil had a knack for judging certain people by their looks, if and only if their personality rubbed him the wrong way, he didn’t have an issue thinking of the worst insults about the man, if not for the uncomfortable smile on your face.

So, leaning against the wall, away from you or the man’s sight, he listened in. 

“So, your husband’s in the military, huh?” He asked, but Phil wasn’t dumb enough to think it wasn’t a sneer in disguise. Probably thought he held some rookie position, “Must be hard not having someone to hold to every night.��

Phil didn’t bother hiding the scornful look on his face.

“It’s not bad,” He immediately perked up at the sound of your voice. The gentle sound that could heal even his worst wounds, “He finds time to check up on me.” 

Whether or not you were telling the truth or if you were downplaying your thoughts if his absence really did bother you, he’ll ask you later, but for now, he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Not letting some schmuck stick their nose in someone else’s business, and your marriage, no less.

“Well, sure, but look at you! I don’t know about you but if I had a girl like you? Shoot, I don’t I’d ever get any work done,” The audacity. Phil’s jaw tightened, listening to him weakly defend himself when you didn’t respond, undoubtedly displeased by his unnecessary opinion, “But that’s just me, y’know.”

“Right, um,” You turned to the row of flower pots, using the second to roll your eyes to the back of your head before showing him the bunch of bluebells in your hands, “How about some bluebells?”

The man pretended to think, “Nah, I mean, they’re cute but I’m looking for something… more,” He then leaned in, resting his arm on the counter, “A little bland, if I’m being honest with you.”

You forced a smile, but Phil, oh Phil.

He wasn’t smiling. 

Who was this man, no, who was this kid to not see how uncomfortable you were with his god-awful ‘flirting’ skills and judge your taste in your very own store?

“That’s fine, I’m sure we can find something else.” Oh, that pitiful tone of yours. Just how long has this man been bothering you?

You bit down a sigh, placing the bluebells back into their pot before walking back to the back of the counter. You knelt, possibly looking for something else, though Phil wouldn’t blame you if you were doing so to drown him out for a bit.

Phil had listened long enough. Moving off the wall, he clicked on the lock button of his car keys. He spun his keys on his finger as he entered the shop, the rattling sounds prompted the man to follow his figure. His eyebrows knitted further, more so when Phil casually stopped right in front of the counter as if used to coming over.

His eyes darted from Phil’s attire; simple yet sophisticated, and how he carried himself, then the convertible behind him. The sudden insecurity forming in the guy’s mind was a no-brainer.

You must’ve heard the extra pair of footsteps and the keys, “I’ll be right with you!” 

He didn’t respond, opting to eye the man—Chad, which he would later learn—with full of judgement. The latter flinched when their eyes met, though he tried to act cool soon by clearing his throat.

But the stare may have been too much for him, as he asked, his voice less confident than before, “Do I know you?” 

“You tell me.” He responded loud enough for you to hear, and just as he hoped, you straightened, visibly lighting up at the sight of him. 

“Phil!” You cheered, already forgetting about the customer as you rushed over to your husband for a hug, “I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight?”

He shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around you while he caressed the apple of your cheek with his free hand, “Change o’plans. Drove here as fast as I could.” He gave you a lazy smile, more so when you jutted out your bottom lip, pouting at his statement. 

“Phil, you know how I feel about you speeding home,” You sighed, despite leaning into his touch, “But I’m glad you’re back. Safe.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, not with that cheeky smile of his before he pressed his lips onto yours. You could feel the upturn of his lips when you yelped, and he didn’t even bother hiding his amusement—his delighted huff when you returned the kiss.

But before he could feel you, before he could melt into your hands as they held his face, you broke the kiss, almost hiding in his chest for a moment before motioning to the man watching—his face that of panicked realization.

“Phil—Customer…”

Ew.

Well, at least he learnt he had messed with the wrong married woman.

Phil suddenly grinned, and a painfully fake one, judging by the lack of positive emotion, or any emotion in his eyes as he looked at Chad.

“Y’here for an arrangement?”

“U–Uh, no. I’m just… looking around. Thinking of buying one for my, uh, girl.”

The man wasn’t dumb enough to think the smirk on Graves’ face wasn’t the face of mockery. A man who has done enough interrogations to know just how much he was bullshitting.

“Huh, Y’must be lookin’ for a special one if you’re makin’ my girl workin’ overtime,” He glanced at the clock just hanging by the door, his arm not leaving you once, “Y’sleepin’ in the dog house or somethin’?” 

“Phil.” You hissed, and ever so cutely, might your husband add. You briefly apologised to Chad, even if you wanted nothing more than to send him on his way.

“Sorry, sorry,” If you noticed his lack of sincerity, you didn't call him out on it. Graves held his hand out, the corner of his lips twitched when Chad took a step back, “Graves. Commander and CEO. Proud husband of this pretty girl right here.” 

Chad accepted, albeit hesitantly, nearly squawking when Phil purposely squeezed his hand. He had a feeling he wouldn't mind breaking his arm if it weren't for the obvious repercussions and well, you being there. 

“Mr Thompson was just looking for a bouquet for his girlfriend. It might take a minute so you can hang around for a bit while I help him.” You explained, standing close to your husband, now that he was with you.

“Or,” Phil spoke, and you should’ve suspected something was up just by his tone, despite his so-called generous offer, “I help him look for what he needs, while you go ahead and close up, get your bag, lock the back room and all.”

You raised your brows, “Phil, are you sure?”

He hummed, “C’mon. ‘Bout time I put my flower knowledge into good use. And who knows?” He glanced at Chad, sharply. With his eyes on the unwanted customer, he leaned to your side, as if whispering, despite making sure Chad heard him loud and clear, “It’s probably nothin’ more than a lil’ trouble in paradise. Nothin’ I can’t sort out, man to man.”

You thought for a moment. You had your suspicions when Chad stopped by the same time your shift ended. And while you wouldn’t have minded, he wasn’t exactly helpful about his request either. Giving you doubtful answers such as his supposed girlfriend’s favourite colour or the occasion. 

Plus, you were a little eager to be away from Chad, even for a short while.

In the end, you nodded, much to Chad’s horror.

“Okay, I just need to organize a few boxes in the back,” You squeezed Phil's arm, “Thank you. I won’t take long.”

Sliding his hand down your arm, he raised your hand to his lips before letting you go.

“Take all the time y’need, pretty girl,” And as soon as you were out of sight, his voice dropped, the upturn of his lips now in a manner that Chad knew this was going to be anything but a quick talk amongst men about which apology flowers were the best, “Take all the time y’need.”

His smile was nowhere to be seen as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched Chad pinching a leaf of random flower in the guise of interest.

But by the third flower, Graves had enough, surprising Chad with his authoritative tone.

“Y’just gonna stand there and ruin my wife’s flowers or are y’goin’ to buy somethin’ and get out?” 

“I’m…” Chad began but Phil didn’t give him the satisfaction to explain himself. He didn’t need to.

“Look. I’m really fuckin’ tired, and my girl is, too, but I’m sure you’re too busy trying to look down her dress to notice that.”

“That’s—”

“Cut,” He didn’t even need to raise a single finger as the tone he normally used on his team on a bad or serious day was enough to shut the man up, “... the bullshit, alright? Y’can buy all the flowers you want to impress her, save a puppy as soon as you see her coincidentally walk by at the park. Fuckin’ pick-me.”

The impatient smile plastered on his face told Chad everything about the commander’s patience.

“I know a degenerate when I see one.” Chad knew not to trust how calm Phil sounded, “And I know she can defend herself just fine. Hell, I taught her everything she needs to know t’deal with boys like you. But I can tell y’one thing; I’ll do so much worse than what she’s already capable of.”

Graves’ heavy footsteps sounded like a disaster waiting to happen in mere seconds before he stood in the middle of the shop.

“Might wanna get out while y’can.” He gritted out, and Chad didn’t waste a second to find out what would’ve happened if he didn’t that very instance, whether it was from you or your husband.

You returned just in time to find Graves appreciating the tulips, though, unbeknownst to you, he was also slightly miffed that some were stained by Chad’s hands alone.

“Oh, did he find what he needed?”

“‘Guess so. Took off as soon as he figured it out. He didn’t buy anythin’ though,” He swiftly carried the bag for you, pulling you in for a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry he wasted y’time.”

“That’s alright,” You grinning, not expecting him to apologize over that, “I just need to keep the flowers in the back. Mind helping me?”

Of course he didn't mind.

He moved with you, carrying much more stock to the cool room where the unsold flowers were kept. During his second run, he lightly tapped you on the ass, stealing a kiss before telling you to lock the register instead. You did just that, carefully organizing the cash and coins before locking it.

Phil worked with ease, pushing necessary pots and displays to one side and pulling the blinds down like the tasks were at the back of his hand. But he didn’t draw the blinds close all the way, though, leaving a small opening at the bottom of the windows where you and Graves could see the sun shining through and the feet of passers-by. 

But unbeknownst to you, he locked the front door and with great care, avoided the usual click.

He shamelessly glanced at you at every possible moment, watching you sit prettily as you focused on your task behind the counter. 

Once his side was done, he approached you, stannding in between your legs as soon as you locked the register.

“All done.” You smiled, crinkles forming in your eyes.

“Perfect.” He opened up his arms, closing the space in between as you embraced. But just as you basked in the wholesome reunion, you froze up, eyes wide at a familiar tent prodding your stomach. He didn't bother concealing his amusement, his smile grew at your giggles, showering one side of your face with kisses to hear more of you. 

“Thought he'd never leave.” He murmured against your skin with zero shame, which prompted you to pull back.

“You threw him out?” You asked in disbelief.

“He threw himself out,” He shrugged, not exactly lying but telling you the whole truth either. He cooed at your little frown, even holding his hand up in a saluting manner, “I’m serious. Scout's honour.” 

“Were you even a scout?” 

“Nope,” He responded without missing a beat, “But I do know how to tie a knot.” 

“Phil!” You smacked his arm, but it did nothing to deter him, “I wasn't even gone that long.” 

“Four minutes was all I needed.” He brushed his nose against your neck, looping his arms around you. You couldn't help but melt, sighing but more so in contentment than disappointment. Granted, you were anything but the latter, but who knows where your business would be if Phil did, well, whatever to your customers the way he did to Chad.

“He was bothering ya.” You knew it wasn't a question and there was no point denying it, so you hummed in confirmation.

“Kinda figure that out after a while,” You shrugged, though you didn't want him to worry either, “I, uh, had my suspicion as soon as I asked him what he was looking for.”

“Yeah? What did he really tell ya?” 

“Just said he wanted some pretty flowers for a pretty lady, and then,” You mimicked the awkward eyebrow-wiggles he did to you, much to Phil’s amusement and disdain, “And then said no to all of my suggestions.”

Phil’s tutting was akin to a Southern mother's, being his blood and all. That, and he was having second-hand embarrassment—to think Chad thought he'd have a chance using that line on you.

Hell, on anyone.

“It was getting a little embarrassing, honestly.” You couldn't help but snort, only for your smile to grow when he, too, expressed his amusement. 

‘A little’ was putting it lightly.

“You and me, sugar.”  

You leaned your weight against him just as he did against the counter, figuring that this was one of those days where he needed to just relax. Be around you as if you exuded great energy, and in his eyes, you were.

A far cry from the more despicable chaos he and his partnering team have to deal with for a living.

You brushed your fingers along his stubble, smiling to yourself at the familiar, prickly sensation. Ever the perceptive man, he angled his face so your lips were pressed on his instead of his cheek.

It was much needed for the both of you as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Though, you tried not to go too far with it, your nerves rising as your eyes flitted to the door, despite Phil’s breathy reassurance that he locked it.

Noticing your hesitance, he broke the kiss to rest his head in the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled you, more so when his hands languidly moved up and down your body.

But then, his hands didn't stop moving upwards.

He swiftly pulled down the straps of your dress, trailing his lips along your shoulder. Though the dress wasn't fully removed, the way you haphazardly held the front of it against your chest, amplifying your cleavage which was just as alluring as you were topless.

“Phil!” You choked out, and yet, he continued. Licking across your newly exposed skin with the tip of his tongue. Starting from the collarbone, down to your tits when he squeezed your breasts together, and then, sucking on the plush at random spots. Eager to leave a mark wherever he could with shameless sounds of suckling and pops, “Here?!” 

If the way your hand shot up to his hair, massaging his scalp and pulling his head close instead of pushing him away was anything to go by, he knew dead set on making you scream.

He took a step back, encouraging you to stand up before hooking his arms under your ass, lifting you effortlessly to seat you on the counter.

His bulge was snug against you, thanks to his taller stature. The way his hands slid down your thighs prompted you to wrap your legs around him, despite the growing warmth in your face at the lewd display. There was something about the sliver of possibility of being watched that raised both your worries and anticipation, despite the opaqueness of the cream-coloured window blinds.

Plus, the shop wasn't exactly soundproof either.

He leaned forward, forcing you to lie back on the surface. His lips hadn't slowed down since, enjoying your squirms and breathless moans as he peppered your neck in kisses before raising his head.

“My wife's a beaut, isn't she?” He whispered against your temple, rolling one of your tits in between his fingers before sliding his hand down to your thigh, squeezing the plush of it, “Got these boys actin’ stupid around ya.” 

You gasped when his hand slid further under your skirt. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, teasingly pulling them up and wedging the lacy material in between your sopping pussy.

“Even I can't resist her sweet lil’ charm,” He purred, pulling your panties to the side and then bunching the hem of your dress for him to delight in all its glory, “Y’know that, don't cha?” 

He swiped two of his fingers across your lips. Even the softest touch elicited the most delicious squelch he had ever heard. 

He hummed in approval, teasing you to his heart's delight, “But she's also so, so dirty, deep down,” He made sure you made the slightest mess, letting your juices drip bit by bit, down to your tight hole and the counter itself, “And this—this is only f’me to see, right, pretty girl?’ 

He captured your lips with his before you could even muster out a breathless ‘yes’, the kiss ending just as quickly as it happened before tapping your lips with his fingers.

You didn't need to be told, but that didn't mean it was any less embarrassing. But his approving hum at your first, kitten-like lick was encouraging. It had you chasing after his praises, verbal or otherwise. 

His cock was downright throbbing, wishing it was his cock you were eagerly drooling on instead of his fingers, but who was he to say he wasn't enjoying the view in hand either? 

Once he was sure they were wet enough, he slid them out of your mouth, crudely enjoying the string of saliva for a second before dropping his fingers to your cunt. 

He mirrored your parted lips, watching your face scrunch up as he eased in one finger. Your whimper was pitiful, and the slightly wicked side of him couldn’t help but coo at you almost condescendingly, knowing you could handle something much bigger than his mere finger, even if they were much thicker than yours. 

He set a torturing pace, taking in the way your body moved, rolling your hips in hopes you’d have his fingers knuckles-deep in you. The way you half-heartedly covered your face with one hand was endearing, probably too overwhelmed by his unapologetic stare.

Then, he cranked up the speed with two fingers, greedy for more of your juices leaking out each time he moved in and out. And by the time you were clenching around three fingers, he was ruthless with his pace. 

Unforgiving. 

He looked euphoric just from bringing the pleasure to you, tipping his head back as he listened to you struggling to hold back your moans and whines whenever he pulled out to tease and slap at your clit.

“Colour?” As casual as he tried to sound, he was just as breathless as you were.

“Green…” You whined, pleading him to continue, even if it felt like you were overstimulating, “Phil, please… Please…!”

You didn’t have to repeat, for he amped up his pace and chased after the climax when the pitch of your voice heightened, arching your back like you weren’t sure if you wanted him to carry on or push him away when you were getting close.

He didn’t falter, nipping on your shoulder just a tad harder just before you trembled, cumming and clenching hard around his fingers. He cupped your face with his other hand, soothing you from your high with praises and kisses. 

“Such a good girl, my good girl. Always so brave f’me, makin’ the sweetest faces. None of those boys gets t’see what I see.” 

It wasn’t long before he carefully slid his fingers out, comforting you each time you whimpered or twitched.

Opting to continue caressing your face, he took the chance to snag a taste of you. Savouring the one taste he had been dying for each time he was away for work.

But he didn’t finish it all. As much as he wanted to, he needed to save the rest for his cock, itching to have a mere feel of your wetness.

Speaking of, he was straining, standing proud and curved a little as the tip, just a hint of red, nearly touched his belly button as soon as he pulled his trousers down. It yearned to feel you, tight and hot, his extra-vulgar actions were the results of restraining himself. 

He shuddered a little—it was entrancing, holding one of your legs up for him to brush his lips against and seeing his cock slide up and down your pussy lips. 

Even after prepping you well, it felt like his cockhead was breaching your walls. You let out a breathy sigh, tilting your head at the upside windows, tensing up at the sight of passersby’s feet at the foot of the glass.

“What do y’think, pretty girl?” He murmured against your leg, still pushing into you, “Do y’think that Thompson guy’s around, wonderin’ why the window’s closed while the car’s still out there?”

The way your head tilted back against the counter in ecstasy, the last rays of the sun shining down on your skin. Even with the AC still on, it stopped neither of you from sweating. The thinnest layer of perspiration, especially gathering along your throat, down to the valley of your breasts—oh, what a shame it would be if he didn’t have even a single lick of it.  

And he did just that, leaning in to give one of your tits a teasing lick.

Those half-lidded eyes, that drunken smile—oh, he was losing it.

He felt like the most blessed man in the world.

“Eyes on me, bunny. He can listen all he wants but this—it’s you and me.”

And it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your peak, Phil kept his eyes on your facial expression because if it wasn’t the sexiest look he had ever seen before he, too, cums with you. In you.

Holding himself up with one hand beside your head, he used the other to caress your face, allowing you all the time in the world to catch your breath. But truth be told, he had fucked the senses right out of you.

“You alright?” “Mmm…” Your murmurs had him chuckling as he carefully gathered you in his arms.

“Can y'walk? Or do I have to carry you? Because y'know I don't mind either way.” Not especially the latter. He may not be as buff as some of his team but he feels good being able to prove the assumptions wrong. So wrong.

You shook your head, and though none of you were even certain what your answer was, Phil somehow understood, but not before letting you collect yourself for as long as you needed. There was no need to rush. Not now.

“Alright, pretty girl. I can do that.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[eclipzee3]

˗ˏˋ 𝓐 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 ˎˊ˗

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆!𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒅 𝒙 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔!𝒅𝒃𝒇 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚ʚ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ɞ˚

•°`` 1.1k ``°•

➵tw for stepcest, somnophilia, basically dub-con, age gap, sexual comments, groping, cream pie, oral sex, threesome, lmk if I missed any. Super mean price, too!

Hide this post if you do not like the warnings. Please block me or do what you see fit.

You didn't exactly want to admit how you felt about it. Your fathers best friend, Philip, was a pain in the ass. Quite literally as well.

Every time he came over, he was all over you, and along with your father. And even worse, your mother's job had her away constantly. And it wasn't like you could text her. Not when your dad had to give you a phone and watch what you did on it before taking it back.

It was ironic given that he was watching porn all the time on his phone. You had walked in on him once or twice. You still weren't sure if he was really close or if he had come to you both times. You hoped for the latter, obviously.

Philip wasn't the brightest either, as stated. Whereas your father was with you all the time, every time phil came over, his advances were clear. Missing panties, bras, shirts.. you name it. Even your own jewelry? The worst part is he would tell you exactly what he'd do with them. And return them to you.. with their own new design. More of, covered in cum. Needless to say, those panties were thrown away. But you didn't have an infinite supply of the damn fuckers, so there you were. Sitting alone in your room with no panties and a tight little top for bed.

You preferred tighter clothes for bed since they didn't slide around as much. You dad didn't seem to think it was for that. It was surely just to turn him on.. According to him.

You had lost doorknob privileges due to talking back when it was really just you telling him about why you decided to wear tight clothes. He wouldn't even let you buy baggy ones. Said you'd look homeless every time.

So, under your covers, you were really just in a camisole. Just a baby pink shirt, nothing special. You were so ready for bed. It was the middle of the week, and you had classes tomorrow at your college, so you had to get your beauty sleep. Until...

You heard a knock at the front door, then a few clicks of the doorbell. You already knew who it must've been.

Fucking phillip.

"Hey!!" He shouted, seeing your father. You pictured the scene in your head since you were upstairs. Sulking in dread as you already knew what was about to happen. You heard muffled voices.. and then walking up the stairs. You saw your dad's silhouette through the small hole of your absent doorknob.

"Phil wants to see you, baby doll." He peeked his head in, and you audibly groaned. "No." You mumbled, glaring at him.

"No attitude. You know fuckin' better. Get up, you're saying hi. And just for that, you'll be spending about an hour with us since you wanna be such an uptight brat." He glanced at his watch before watching you instead of disappearing. You just looked back. Wouldn't he leave?

"Get up. You wanna test me?" He growled, walking in and getting closer to you. He hovered over you, his eyes staring daggers into yours. "If you wanna be a fucking brat do it so phil can see. Get the fuck up, y/n." He said in a yelling whisper voice. The type your mom would use when you were misbehaving in public.

Abruptly, he tugged your covers off just as you were about to say anything. No panties.. no covers. No privacy. He glanced down, taking a look at your bare pussy. "Oh so you're being a slut now? Is that it?" He said, rolling his eyes before grabbing your arm. "I don't have any underwear!" You protested, but he dragged you out of bed regardless despite you trying to fight him. There was no use. He was twice your size.. you weren't exactly a fighter either.

He pulled you down the stairs and led you into the kitchen.. only Phil to be there with a grin on his face. "What's wrong? Missing something?" He asked, glancing down at your hands tugging down at your camisole to cover yourself. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment and anger setting in. You were flustered, and your own father threw you at a man whore. "Fuck off." You snapped at him, only to get a rough push into the counter by your dad, his body pushing you into the cold marble. "You will not speak to our guests that way, do you understand." He roughly whispered into your ear with gritting teeth before pushing off you after your little scolding.

You stood there, practically fuming. You glared at phil, only making him chuckle, his eyes drifting down to your pussy.. a little bush of pubes very visible, along with your pussy lips.

"Wanna tell Phil why you don't wanna wear underwear, hm?" John seemed to have calmed a bit, almost a playful tone as he glanced down too.. feeling a bit of blood rush to his cock.

"Because someone took all my panties and used them to jerk off with." You said dryly, eyes connected with Phil's as he finally looked up, tilting his head. "Wasn't me, baby. Must've been your dirty daddy." He laughed, only for John to laugh with him. Your dad's hand slipping around your waist before sliding down to your ass.. giving it a rough squeeze. "Guess we'll have to get you some more, huh?" John said, his hand leaving you to reach out to the fridge only to grab two beers. Despite being of age, you still weren't allowed to drink. Or basically do anything for that matter.

He passed the beer to Phil for him to smirk, tipping his head up as a thanks before he opened the cap with just his thumb. You were surprised he didn't have a deep cut of some kind. You guessed it was from all the shit he did over the years.. creating a rough callous on each of his fingertips. John did the same, for them to take a few sips, dramatically smacking and doing what older men had to.

"You just wanna stand there? If you need something to do, you can always start cleaning. Something a woman like you should be doing." He said, taking a quick sip before chuckling softly. "Or actually, a girl like you."

Fucking prick. You chose not to talk. It would only get you either having to actually do that or screamed at.. or worse. You shuddered at the thought. They both began to chat.. while you stood there awkwardly.. backing away slowly.

John didn't seem to notice. Nor care. So, you crept up the stairs, being sure to avoid the creaky parts before getting into bed, shutting your eyes. You prayed they wouldn't notice you disappeared, but they would eventually. You were just afraid of what would happen.

ㅤ/ᐠ - �� -マ z Z Z

"Wanna fuck her?" Phil said. He wasn't lightweight. He knew well what he was doing. What he was asking from your father. And your dad did, too. He wasn't dumb. "Why wouldn't i?" He said back, glancing at each other.

"Her fault for wearing that shit.." Phil cursed under his breath, palming himself as they stood above your bed.. watching your body squirm in whatever dream you were having. John's eyes were focused on your ass. Perked out as you were cuddled into yourself.. curled up. You said sweet little nothings.. soft hums coming from your mouth as your pussy soon glistened.

To answer the question.. yes. You liked it. You loved it. The attention was horrible, but the outcome? God. Your poor pussy needed cock. You were still a virgin due to your dad being a prick and not letting you lose it.. so your fingers and household items were really the best you had. And you couldn't even deny it if you were asked. You had wet dreams about fuckng yourself on your dad's cock maybe every night.

Your pussy was practically dripping. John groaned softly.. his cock perking in his jeans. "Fuck.. pretty girl.." he mumbled, bending his knees as he moved his hands to your ass.. rubbing it before sticking a finger in your tight little hole.. the warm wetness sucking him in. Phil was unbuckling his jeans.. pulling his boxers down and stroking his meaty cock in no time as he watched your father finger you..

"So fuckin' tight..." he rose from his position.. pulling his cock out as well.. moving down once more.. just now on your bed. You still hadn't awoke yet since your dream was also quite action packed. You didn't notice the dips in the bed where your father's knees had gone.. his hand guiding his cock along your wet folds, a grunt leaving his lips as he took everything in him not to cum right there and then. Phil hummed behind him, precum from his cock making wet noises as he pumped his cock.. grabbing one of your arms from where it was tucked in your chest before gliding it over his cock instead. Soon, both the men were groaning.. only fondling with you now.

John decided it was enough. So, he began to push his cock inside you, Phil now moving onto the bed aswell, on the other side as he rubbed his cock against your cheek. They were both getting what they wanted before your eyes began to flicker open.. Phil reacting immediately. He slipped his cock in your mouth, holding your head as he licked his lips.. eyes rolling back as he began to buck his hips against your tongue. You hummed... the foreign feeling of something prodding at your pussy making you mumble more.. little movements coming from you as you finally began to realize what was taking place. You moaned as your stepdad began to work himself in further, groans leaving his lips as you squeezed around his cock. You whimpered.. hands tugging on Phil as he lifted your head farther on his cock.. guiding you as you moaned around both of them.

"Fuck, baby.." Phil cursed. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." He began to thrust into your mouth, your eyes widening as you gagged and choked on his girth. He was huge.. you could feel how slimy his cock was from his precum.. and even better, your daddy was thrusting into you at the same time, cock covered in your sticky arousal as lube. He began to spoon you, rutting up into your core as you moaned, his hand reaching around to play with your clit at the same time.

"So tight, princess.. love this big ol' cock dontcha' babe.." he purred into your ear, quickening his pace as he groaned and bit at your neck.. Phil bruising your throat at the same time. John knew you were helpless. He knew you were just a little toy for him now.. and he fucking loved it.

He thrusted and thrusted, finger quickening on your sensitive bud as Phil began to slow down.. sloppy thrusts following as he quickly pulled out of your mouth, pumping his cock quickly.. "fuckfuckfuck.. cmon.. fuck.. baby.." His feet scrunched as you moaned on your daddy's cock, little whimpers leaving you as you closed your eyes.. Phil shooting cum all over your face.. the gooey white substance dripping from his tip as he groaned.. swallowing hard as he watched John practically pound into your pussy as he sucked on your neck. "Gonna ruin this pretty pussy.." He said, voice rough and gravelly as he tried to keep his composure inside you.. his free hand going under you and slipping beneath your shirt to cup your tit.. pinching your nipples.

"Fuck! Ah.. too much!" You whined.. shorted breaths leaving you as you reached down to play with your clit.. your breath quickening as you came closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum? Gonna cum all over step daddy's cock?" He grunted, obviously close himself as he kept going steadily, your clit burning with heat as you finally came.. short gasps leaving you as you whimpered.. mumbling yes over and over again as you father came quickly after cock pushed up into your cervix as he came.. hips jolting as he hummed.. "ur' pussy belongs to me, doll.. daddy's girl.."

He had filled you to the brim with his cum.. eventually pulling out only for the cum to ooze out of you.. body shaking as you gasped.. feeling the absence of your dad's cock as you drifted back to sleep..

"Never getting a filling that good from anyone else.." he whispered, kissing your forehead as he presumably got dressed with Phil... leaving you to your dreams as you slept.

This took so unbelievably long to make. It looks so short, too 😭. I hope you enjoyed it!! lmk if you want a part 2 maybe?? If this gets traction maybe but idk I'm not gonna like waste time if it's not gonna be enjoyed yknow 🤧

༊*·˚

[myhornysaga]

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

Tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, mdni, graves x reader

Part 1, series masterlist

You and Phil have been married for over a decade now. You watched him and helped alongside in creating his brainchild, The Shadow Company, a private military company.

Fate is such a peculiar thing that you also happen to be a criminal lawyer who has quite a good track record of fair share of wins and losses.

But you had quit your career as a lawyer for a while. Yet, you offered Phil to be the head of his company's legal team which he solidly refused.

Even though you are good, he doesn't wants you involved in his dirty mercenary business in any shape, way or form.

But you know how to make him do what you want, wrap him around your little finger like your puppet.

A good blow job and licking his balls and he's a mess. Even better if you swallow his cum and lick your finger tips.

And then all you have to say is, "fuck me like a whore", with wide doe eyes...

Your words wake his primal cave man instincts and goes into an absolute rampage with only one mission on his mind which is to make you see stars in broad daytime.

Letting him rut his cock in you like a hungry dog in heat with your head shoved into the pillow. He drags you and throws you onto the carpeted floor and then starts thrusting his dick like horny rabbit while you grab pull his gorgeous blonde hair. He hisses at the pain but then leans down to suck on your nipple, making you moan, giving you pleasure only to then bite and make you yelp. Oh the pain and the pleasure...

After a certain tragic incident, he has mostly avoided cumming inside you. But oh Lord he'll be damned if doesn't comes inside you now! God, does he wants to fill you up. And he just does that. Sensing he's closer, he bites on your shoulder while you dig your freshly manicured red nails on his freckled back. And with that, he came in you.

You expected him to pull out honestly, like he usually does but god oh god does it feels good as Phil's cock twitched in you, you could feel his warm seed inside you. Oh god, thank god he came inside. You had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Graves had his head in the crook of your neck sucking on your neck, making sure he leaves his mark on you. You caressed his golden hair and pulled him to cup his cheeks.

Good Lord he is so beautiful. The muted sunrays made him look so... beautiful, ethereal almost.

You scanned his features like its the first time. His eyes, tired and blue, oh so blue. His lips, pouty and adorable, his nose and his cheek. Ah that damned scar on the apple of his cheek that stretched till his ear. Your fingers ran through his scar subconsciously and kissed it, with love and affection.

Graves knows he loves you but damn its like the first time again. Falling in love with you all over again because you accept him as he is, flawed, scarred, broken, tired.

You were so lost in the moment that you forgot your mission for which you now laid on the floor, legs wapped, naked with your husband on top and his cock in you as the cum dripped...

And.... done! He's yours now!

You have noticed for over a decade of warming his bed that Phil gets very vulnerable after sex. Its like, he will do whatever you ask of him, however crazy or insane it might be, he would gladly agree!

And that is how, you secured your position in your husband's private military company as the Head of Legal Team and department, Marketing and Finance Advisor and the Public face or public front for Shadow Company.

Its a lot of important roles but its not like you are incompetent. Your degrees, years of experience and having a family generationally involved in Finance and Law has helped you, a lot.

♧◇♧

M.list

[writeforfandoms]

Vicious

Find my CoD masterlist

Looking to expand your territory, you find a military group in more or less the middle of nowhere, and spend a few days observing them. Of course, things are never easy, and soon you find yourself a permanent guest of one Commander Graves.

Coyote shifter f!reader x Phillip Graves

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, piv sex, teasing, biting, dirty talk, blood, injury, gunshot, emotional slow burn, enemies to lovers, eventual happy ending. PoV does shift.

Everybody thank @sprout-fics for literally plotting this out with me I don't even know how long ago. Thanks for infecting me with the Graves brainrot, love.

Word count: 11.5k (might wanna go grab a drink)

You approached the base with caution. You'd circled around the base for a few days before deciding to approach. You wanted to know what this was since it was in your territory. Well. Sort of. It was kind of right on the edge of your territory, but since there was a very rude pack of wolves pushing on your territory, you were looking to expand. 

Thus, investigating. 

The base was big and mostly flat, several buildings set up. You could vaguely see a hanger in the distance. Hmm. Interesting. 

Trotting along, you lifted your nose to sniff the air. Lots of scents - men and gunpowder and oil. Hmm. Not terrible, but not great. 

Maybe you should look elsewhere to expand.

There was a thunderous crack and a line of fire erupted across your back. You yelped, scrambling away, even as warm wetness seeped into your fur. You bolted, ignoring the pain, ignoring the blood. You needed to get somewhere safe to shift back and get medical attention. Or at least hide until you healed. 

If the wolves found you like this, they'd kill you. 

You made it away from the shooter, getting as far as an abandoned-looking building before you collapsed. Your legs gave out with a wobble and you whined softly to yourself. Your back hurt, a solid line of fire that pulsed steadily with your heart. 

That was probably bad. You must have gotten hurt worse than you thought. 

Jaws parted as you panted, you debated your options. You could try to sleep here, you could try to get somewhere safer, or you could shift back. 

Even the thought of shifting made you hurt, and you laid your head down. 

You needed medical attention. And liquids. And rest. 

But rest would have to come first, because your body refused to cooperate with you otherwise. 

As much as you knew it wasn't safe here, as much as you longed to get back to your own den… you closed your eyes. 

Just a nap. Just enough rest to get you back on your feet to get home. 

–

Graves had had a good day. Drills had gone well. One of his boys had shot at a coyote. All was well. He'd even authorized a couple boys to go find the coyote and put it out of its misery. 

The last thing he expected was to see those two boys come back with a woman bundled between them, passed out cold and wrapped in one of their jackets. Her legs were bare beneath the jacket. 

"What the fuck?" He muttered to himself, standing up straighter. 

"Found her out in the middle o' nowhere," one of them said, flagging Graves down. "She's bleeding." 

Graves frowned. Bleeding, unconscious, left in the middle of nowhere? Sounded like she'd run into some trouble. 

"Bring her to medical," Graves ordered, already striding over to pull the door open for them. "And for fuck's sake find her some clothes." He held the door for the two and his gaze dipped down to what he could see of her. Mmm. Nice legs. Nice ass, too. 

He resisted the urge to follow them to medical, trusting that they'd get her there. Instead he went to start on the necessary paperwork. 

Medical paged him once she was cleaned up and dressed, and he told them to alert him as soon as she woke. Fingerprints hadn't gotten any pings yet, which was a good thing. 

But still. He needed answers. 

Graves huffed softly and leaned back in his chair. Nothing he could do about her for now but wait. 

–

You woke slowly, warm and not sure why that felt wrong. Not at first. Then the smell registered. 

This was not home.

You sat up quickly and then groaned softly, clenching your teeth. Oh, ouch. Your back fucking hurt. 

"Oh good, you're awake." 

You jerked your head to look at the door, eyes wide. A good-looking man stood there, eyes raking over you. He looked military - the way he stood, the cut of his clothes, the subtle bulge of a gun tucked in the back of his waistband. Oh fuck. 

"How you feelin'?" His voice was mild as he grabbed a chair, pulling it over closer to your bed. 

"Back hurts," you answered carefully. "Where am I?" 

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, which remained cool. "Medical. I have a few questions for you." 

You noted he didn't ask if you were up for it. Clearly this man was used to getting his way. You swallowed. His scent wafted to you, warm and a little spicy and far too alluring. "Okay." 

"Do you know where my boys found you?" 

You narrowed your eyes a little, thinking. Right. You'd been shot and ran away, and had collapsed outside that abandoned building. "Sort of?"

"Do you remember how you got there?" His gaze was more intense now and he leaned forward. 

You had two options here that you could see. Make up some lie, or lie and say you didn't remember. 

"I… don't remember." You swallowed hard, shifting your weight. Your back hurt and tugged a little. "What happened to my back?"

"Nice long scratch. Had to put in some stitches to keep your skin together." He didn't even flinch at the description. Not that you did either. You'd spent enough time as a coyote to see your fair share of blood. 

"Thank you." You forced yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes were pretty. Alluring. Dammit. 

"You're welcome." His smile was all arrogance now. "I'd appreciate some information in return." 

"Like what?" Your gaze darted to the door nervously. This was bad. This was very bad. You needed to get out. 

"Where were you before this? How did you get hurt?" 

"I don't remember." You eyed him now carefully. You were injured, but maybe you could get the drop on him…

"Well. That's a damn shame, darlin'." He pushed to his feet, gaze fixed on you. "I'm afraid I need some answers before you can go." 

"You can't keep me," you immediately retorted, twisting to face him. "That's not legal." 

His smile turned condescending. "And who's gonna stop me?" He spread his hands out from his body, still smirking. 

You tensed, gauging, and then lunged at him. You couldn't shift, not here. But maybe you wouldn't need to. You slammed into him, pain lighting up your back, and tried to shove past him. He recovered fast, faster than you expected, grabbing you and hauling you back to him. You growled, low and angry, and bit his shoulder. Hard. 

He shouted, jerking under your teeth. But he didn't let you go. Just yanked your wrists behind your back, securing them with one hand before using his free hand to get a grip on your hair and yank. 

"Feisty, huh?" His grin showed far too many teeth. Even for a human that was a clear threat. "'S alright, sweet pea. I've got time. I'll have you singing before long." 

You whined when he tugged your hair again, forcing your head back, exposing your throat. He held you easily, not even breaking a sweat as he kept you contained. 

You'd miscalculated. Badly. 

The room he escorted you to was plain and not comfortable. Little more than a concrete box with a cot bolted down, the room lacked any warmth. 

"I'll give you some time to think about your answers," he told you before he pushed you into the room. You stumbled, off balance from the shove, and the door slammed shut. 

The lock clicked, loud and ominous in the room. 

You had really, really miscalculated. 

–

Graves walked back to his room before checking the bite, which was already blooming color on his skin. "Fuck," he muttered, half impressed and a little turned on. "Helluva bite." He sucked his teeth, fingers rising to press gently to his skin. The little bloom of pain made him groan softly, arousal rising. Damn but he liked that. 

He wanted to tame this one. 

"Damn, sweet pea," he muttered, pressing down again, ignoring the blood rushing down to his cock. For now. "Damn." 

–

You were brought food regularly, so at least they weren't starving you. That would be bad, on top of your injury. 

And the asshole came back at least once a day to ask you the same questions. What happened to you? Where had you been? How did you end up out here? Who hurt you? 

You, at least, stuck to your line. You didn't know. That was all he was getting out of you. Nothing else. 

You didn't try to bite him again. At least, not for the first few days. 

Then he got mean. 

"Y'know, sweet pea, I could make this so much nicer for you," he murmured. "Or so much worse. I've been generous, you know." 

"You call this generous?" You curled your upper lip, hands curling into loose fists. 

"Coulda left you to my boys." His smirk was downright nasty now, eyes glinting with mean amusement. "I'm sure they'd appreciate you." 

You stiffened, a low growl rumbling in your chest. Excitement sparked through his scent and his lips stretched wider. "Don't you fucking dare." 

"Then gimme what I want," he purred, leaning closer. "Or a good reason not to." 

You lunged. He was prepared this time, though you still got your teeth in his shoulder before he grabbed you and twisted. You yipped, startled, as he manhandled you face-down on the cot, pressed up tight to your back to keep you down. 

The hardness pressing into your ass made you jerk. 

"Told you," he growled into your ear, breath hot against your skin. "Give me a good reason not to." 

"Fuck off," you snarled, trying to buck him off, ignoring the hardness of him. 

"Rather fuck you." His teeth were sharp on your ear. 

You snarled, deep and rumbly, squirming under him. But you couldn't deny the thrill of arousal at how he held you down. He was strong. Very strong. 

"Fuck," he muttered, pressing his hips harder into yours. "Better hold still, sweet pea, unless you think you can take me." 

"I dunno, you think you can handle me?" You couldn't resist taunting him, baring your teeth. 

He huffed a little laugh and shoved one knee between your legs, leaning his weight onto you. "Oh I can handle you, sweet pea." He shifted, biting down on the back of your shoulder. You moaned, almost startled at how much you liked that, how good it felt. "Yeah? Pretty girl likes it a bit rough?" 

"You all mouth?" You shot back, managing to free one hand. You reached back to claw at him, not sure if you wanted him closer or wanted him off of you. 

He swore softly when your nails caught skin under the sleeve of his shirt, dragging down. "Feisty pretty girl," he growled. He grabbed your wrist again and shoved it back down to the bed, pushing you harder into the mattress, his chest to your back. One hand let up, but he compensated, keeping you trapped under him. "Guess you don't wanna get fucked tonight." His free hand slid slowly down your side to your hip, and he pulled you back and down onto his thigh. 

You gasped at the feel of his thigh firm between your legs, fanning your arousal. You squirmed, hands twisting, tilting your face to the side. "Mm, feels like you're all teasing and no follow through." 

"Good girls ask nicely." He lifted his hips away from yours, using his grip on you to push you further into the bed, away from the warmth of him. 

You snarled into the bedding, twisting harder. But he didn't budge, didn't give you an inch. He was absolutely infuriating. 

But he was also possibly going to fuck you, and you possibly wanted him to. 

"I don't do nice." You kicked out with one leg, and he grunted as you pushed him off balance enough to have him crashing back into you. You could admit to yourself that though he was an ass, you wanted more. 

"You will, sweet pea," he grunted, fingers tightening around you. "You'll beg me for it." He rocked his hips into yours and you arched, no longer trying to get him away or get him off. No. Now you wanted more. 

When he pulled back again, your lips parted in a snarl, and you almost asked what he was doing. 

Except you felt fingers at your back, pushing the shirt they'd given you up until it bunched under your arms. His fingers were warm and a little rough as they slid along the path of your injury, just to the side so he didn't actually hurt you. The nurse had insisted on leaving the bandages for another day, although you didn't really need them - you healed faster than a human. 

"One day you'll tell me," he murmured, low and promising. "And I'll be here for all your secrets." 

A shudder ran down your spine and you squirmed. "Keep it up and I'll think you're actually interested in me," you quipped. You needed his attention off your back, needed him to leave it alone. 

"Oh but I am," he purred, lowering himself again so you could feel the press of his shirt against your back, the flat plane of his stomach leaving you nowhere to go. "You're just too temptin', sweet pea. I can't resist." 

You sucked in a breath when he bit down on the back of your shoulder again, a little gentler this time. But the feeling of teeth in your skin, even with the shirt in the way, only made you want more. You bucked into him, struggling, a low whine escaping without permission. 

"Sound so sweet like that," he murmured, too pleased with himself. "Let's see what other pretty noises you can make for me." 

"Arrogant," you shot back, wiggling your ass back against the bulge of him. 

"Confident," he corrected, grinding into you. "Now, you gonna be a good girl if I let go?" 

"Define good." You grinned into the sheets, hiking one knee up to get leverage to push back into him. He only pressed you harder into the cot, pulling a groan out of you. 

"Guess that's a no," he huffed, nosing the side of your neck. "Shame. I'd love to take my time with a pretty thing like you." 

"Sure know how to make a girl feel special." You squirmed again, trying again to free your hands. 

"Baby, I'll make you feel so good," he promised, low and crooning. You shuddered hard, twisting one hand free and reaching back to pull his head closer, fingers scratching through his hair. He huffed against your neck, warm and damp. "Still gotta ask for it." 

You gritted your teeth, digging your nails into the back of his neck. "Make me." 

He groaned softly, pressing his bulge harder into you. He was a flurry of movement, pushing your shirt up over your head but leaving it tangled around your arms. "Such a little brat," he growled, teasing. "I can fix that." 

"Such an ass," you gasped as he yanked your sweatpants down, leaving them pooled on one ankle. 

"All you gotta do is ask, baby," he murmured, hand smoothing over your ask. "I'll fuck you real good if you ask." 

"Not on your life." You whined softly when his hand dipped down between your legs, teasing, testing. 

"Oh yeah?" He huffed an amused noise. "We'll see about that, sweet pea." One big finger slid into you and you gasped, legs shifting further apart to give him more room. "Knew you liked this," he muttered victoriously, his finger making a lewd noise as he moved it. "Fuckin' knew it." 

You opened your mouth to snipe back at him and ended up moaning instead at the stretch of a second finger. “Fucking tease,” you managed, tilting your hips to allow him deeper. 

He huffed. “Already told you what you have to do,” he murmured, pumping his fingers faster. The coil of pleasure in your belly grew tighter, and you rocked your hips back into his fingers. Not yet willing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you. But the scent of his arousal, his clear enjoyment of this, was near dizzying. 

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood as you got close, eyes shuttered, determined not to give him satisfaction while getting your own. 

And his fingers slipped out of you. 

“What–?” You started to demand, pushing hard against him. 

“Told you,” he said, amused now, even as you heard his belt buckle clink. “Gotta ask, baby.” He nipped the shell of your ear and then groaned softly. There was a soft, wet noise. 

Your eyes blew wide and you froze. He was stroking himself, slow and rhythmic, his knuckles just brushing your ass. He was just going to leave you like this. 

Unless you asked. 

You clenched your jaw for a moment before you gave in with a little whimper, tilting your hips and ducking your head down against the cot. “Please,” you murmured. 

“What was that, sweet pea?” He sounded unbearably smug, even as he brushed his knuckles over your skin a little more firmly. 

“Please,” you repeated, pressing your forehead into the cot. The smell of him was intoxicating and a little addicting and utterly ruining your composure. 

He hummed, teasing, and the noise stopped. Still-damp fingers pressed to your ass and then curled around your hip, guiding you into a better position. “Please what?” 

You growled a little, debating kicking him off and taking care of yourself. But damn he’d gotten you riled up, and now you wanted him. “Please fuck me,” you ground out, tone far from pleading. 

But that must have been good enough for him. “Good girl,” he cooed, condescending and overly-sweet. You fought down the urge to bite him again, mostly because you could feel him beginning to press into you. 

He did not go slow, and he was not gentle. Which was fine - you didn’t want gentle. You didn’t want slow. You wanted him to fuck you hard enough that you saw stars. 

He was relentless, searching for your g-spot and then hitting it as often as possible. He released your hands to fist your hair, tugging your head to the side so he could kiss and nip at your neck. His groans vibrated against your skin, making you whimper. 

“Yeah? Feel good?” He nipped sharply at your skin and soothed the spot with his tongue. “Tell me, sweet pea.”

You resisted. For a moment. “Feels good,” you agreed with a gasp, getting one hand behind you to scratch through his hair, keeping him exactly where he was. “More.”

“More what?” The words were growled into your skin, his grip tightening on your hip until you thought you’d have bruises. 

“Need more,” you gasped, bucking your hips back into his. “Please.”

“Knew you could be so good for me,” he crooned, far too pleased. But he did move his hand to rub your clit, not giving you a chance to mouth off to him again. 

“Fuck!” Your fingers scrabbled at the sheets and fisted in them, shaking a little. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear now. “Come on, baby. Come for me. Come on, come on, baby.” 

Later, you’d be humiliated, but you did. You came with a shout, body tensing under his, hand in his hair clawing down the back of his neck. He hissed, shuddering hard against you, and roughly pumped into you a few more times before he spilled in you. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, almost dazed sounding. “Fuck you feel good.” He ground against you, probably just to hear you whine. 

He didn’t quite collapse on you, but it was close. Fortunately, you got to just melt into the cot, breathing hard. 

“Have fun, sweet pea?” He slid out of you smoothly and stood, fixing his clothing. You kind of hated him for that, even as you turned your head to glower at him over your shoulder. 

“Still an asshole,” you grumbled, stretching out. You needed to move, to wipe yourself off. But you couldn’t resist the moment of tormenting him with the sight of you on display. 

He chuckled, undeterred. “Better rest up, sweet pea,” he advised, smirk clear in his tone. “I’ll be back later.” 

The door locked behind him as always. 

Fine. You’d just bide your time. Someone would slip up eventually. 

It took another week. A week of acting more compliant, of not trying anything. Graves didn’t come back for that entire week, either. Why, you didn’t know, but you weren’t going to ask. 

Finally, the soldier that brought you food forgot to lock the door. 

You waited until you couldn’t hear him anymore before you crept to the door, cracking it open just the tiniest bit. Nothing. No sound near you. 

You had to sternly remind yourself not to just go tearing off, you had to do this smart. So you snuck out of your room, shutting the door again. Hopefully that would keep them from looking. 

Getting out of there was perhaps one of the most stressful things you’d ever done. You listened hard for people, and once had to duck into a cleaning closet to avoid a couple chatting soldiers. Your heart pounded against your ribs the entire time, so loud you had to focus to hear past the blood rushing through you. 

But you did it. You made it outside. The sun was setting, the land open around the base. You’d blend better if you shifted, and you’d be faster. 

A quick look around showed you were the only one in sight. Moving fast, you nearly threw your clothes off and shifted, landing on four paws. 

This was so much better. 

You left the clothes where they fell and started trotting off, away from base. You were more careful this time, darting between bushes and generally being stealthy. 

So when something tackled you from the side, you yelped, totally caught off guard. You struggled until a firm hand grabbed your scruff, holding tight and lifting you a little. You whined and went still. 

“Well, well, well,” Graves murmured, smirking down at you. “I’ll be damned.” 

You lifted your upper lip to growl at him, hoping he’d take the hint and back off. Instead, he fearlessly wrapped his free hand around your muzzle. 

“You’ve already bitten me before, sweet pea,” he said, looking over you again, awed and not at all scared. “Not gonna let you with bigger teeth.” 

You stared at him, fear a cold wash down your spine. You realized with perfect clarity in that moment that not only had he put together exactly what you were, but he was never going to let you go. 

Graves carried you back to your room, shutting the door behind the two of you before he released you. You skittered away, putting some distance between the two of you. “Go on, sweet pea. Show me.”

You were momentarily confused, ears twitching as you looked at him. But he didn’t move, didn’t step away. 

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased, smirking like the bastard he was. “Already seen all of you before.”

Understanding dawned, and you briefly pinned your ears back. But if there was one thing you knew about Graves, you knew that he was stubborn. 

So you shifted back. 

“There you are.” He grinned, wide and satisfied and distinctly smug. “Quite a trick you got there, sweet pea.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, glowering at him. “Why did you grab me again?” 

“Can’t let such a fascinating little thing run off now can I?” He finally took a step closer to you, gaze fixed on your face. 

You clenched your jaw. “Sure you can, it’s easy.”

He chuckled, taking another step closer, until he was just outside your space. “Oh sweet pea, told you I’d be here for all your secrets, and I meant it.”

You swallowed, not sure how to react to that. He held all the power here, and you both knew it. But you didn’t want to yield, didn’t want to bare your neck to him. So you bared your teeth instead. 

“Mm, that too,” he purred, not at all deterred. On the contrary, he reached for you with one hand, licking his lips. 

You took a step back, eyeing him. “Do I get any say in this?” 

“I’m not a monster,” he told you amicably, allowing you some space. 

“No. You’ll just keep me here.” 

He shrugged. “You know too much,” he said easily. “And knowing what you are? I’d be a fool not to use all advantages I can get, and I ain’t a fool.” 

You puffed out a breath. “I think you overestimate how much I know.” 

He smirked. “Perhaps.” He took a step back finally. “Tell you what, sweet pea. You behave and I’ll get you a nicer room to stay in.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer (or object), just turned and left, locking the door again. 

You groaned softly and fell back on the cot. Well. Fuck. That had gone the opposite of how you’d wanted. Now not only were you stuck here, but Graves knew what you were. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t try to do anything awful. 

Graves visited you every day for the next several days. He never asked for anything. Just seemed to be enjoying the power he held over you. Sometimes the visits were short, mere minutes, more check ins than anything else. Sometimes he’d stay for longer, chatting, slowly getting to know you.

As you were getting to know him.

You didn’t pretend to understand his interest in you, but you didn’t exactly discourage him, either. You only snapped playfully at him. You didn’t try to kill him. You also didn’t spend more than a day or two feeling sorry for yourself and being sullen and mopey.

Coyotes were adaptable creatures. It’s how they’d become one of the most successful predators in North America.

So you adapted. 

“Brought you a little somethin’.” Graves was in a particularly good mood tonight, eyes bright, smirk firmly in place. 

“Oh?” You didn’t even bother to get up, staying seated with your back to the wall, book still in your lap. (He’d finally caved the fourth time you’d threatened to die of boredom.) 

He crouched in front of you, holding out a bracelet. It was simple metal beads, though just from looking at it you guessed not all of them were so simple. He looked far too smug, putting you a little on edge. 

“This has got a tracker in it,” he told you, letting it dangle from one finger, swinging gently and catching the light. “And a couple little surprises. Gimme your wrist.”

You huffed softly but held out one arm for him, watching him fasten it on you. “And what stops me from just taking it off?” 

“One of the surprises.” He smirked, thumb rubbing the soft underside of your wrist, pressing briefly against your pulse. “You can test it, but I wouldn’t recommend it, sweet pea.”

Curiosity warred with caution, and caution won. You puffed out a breath. “Alright, so you can, presumably, track all the time I spend sitting here reading. Wow. Fascinating.” 

He just grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that was absolutely not endearing. At all. Not even a little. “Well, I was thinking you could come on a walk with me.”

“Seriously? Not yanking my chain?” You raised both eyebrows at him. 

“Seriously.” He stood straight again, using his hold on you to tug you up with him. “C’mon. Lemme show you around properly.” 

Curiosity won out over caution, this time. You followed him. 

The base was larger than you’d initially guessed. Graves kept you close to his side as the two of you walked, which didn’t stop you from looking around. Several of his men saw the two of you, but none of them approached. Hm. Fine with you. 

Graves probably enjoyed showing off the base a little too much, although you realized he was also showing you off with a hand on your lower back. Conniving man.

You could respect that. Especially if he was less of an ass. 

“Wanna go explore?” 

You side-eyed him at the offer, and especially at the grin he shot your way. “Eager to see if your little gift works as promised?” you drawled. 

“Nah. You’re not a fool.” His eyes gleamed as he watched you.

You huffed softly, amused despite yourself. “Well, you’re not wrong.” Not giving him a chance to retort, you walked away. You heard his chuckle behind you, but he didn’t follow. 

Exploring by yourself was… interesting. But not in the way you expected. The men looked at you, yes, but none of them approached you. One or two even stepped out of your way. 

Very interesting. They were not exactly a pack, humans didn’t work that way, but they clearly had their own pecking order. 

You made your way towards the fence, looking up at the guard posts. Considering the way the land stretched out flat before you for miles, the base sticking up like a sore thumb, you were both surprised and not. Only one actual road in and out of this place, and you didn’t bother going towards that gate.

Instead you started towards the nearest guard post, determined to get up the ladder and see the view. 

“Uh, ma’am, you can’t go up there.” 

You looked at the young man in front of you - not as tall as Graves, definitely younger, a little uncertain. Adorable. He looked more like a pup than a man. 

“Graves told me to explore,” you drawled, dry as dust. “I’m exploring.” 

“You still can’t go up there.” He pulled back his shoulders, trying to intimidate you. Aw. Cute. His radio crackled, and very faintly you could hear Graves on the other end. Just his voice, not what he said. But the soldier nodded once and stepped aside. “He said it’s okay.”

“Thanks.” You kept your tone dry and purposefully made noise going up the ladder. The guard on duty glanced at you but didn’t say a word, allowing you to take your fill of the view. 

This area had been your home for a long time. Sure, not here exactly, but, well… You’d been wanting to expand your territory anyway, hadn’t you? This wasn’t a bad expansion. Especially if you could convince Graves to let you go hunting properly. 

You could come to see this as home. In time. 

Coyotes were adaptable. This would not break you. 

Graves’ hand at your back didn’t even startle you this time. You’d heard him coming, after all. 

You’d ask him about hunting some other time. No need to push too fast, after all. 

You had time to win him over. 

–

Graves was pleased - the tracker worked exactly as it should. And you behaved perfectly, exploring, poking your nose places. All without even trying to leave. 

He’d gentle you to him yet. 

Eventually, he’d be able to move you into his room. But not yet. 

For now, he contented himself with dinner with you, watching your barely restrained curiosity. He didn’t quite chuckle to see that curiosity mirrored in his men, but it was a close call. 

"Enjoying, sweet pea?" 

You scoffed softly. "Yes, well, meals in my room were rather dull." Your teeth flashed in a grin. 

He chuckled. “Don’t have to do that anymore,” he offered, watching you. “Long as you behave.”

You tipped your head, and he could see the predatory gleam in your eyes. But you nodded once. 

He’d definitely be keeping an eye on you. Not that he minded - you were a pretty little thing, after all. 

Maybe he’d get his hands on you after dinner. 

–

Days passed faster now that you were no longer confined to your room. Graves let you have free roam of the compound - nothing was off limits to you. 

Which is how you stumbled upon a training exercise. 

Graves beckoned you to join him without looking away, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he watched two teams with paintball guns attempting to get each other out. 

"Training?" You guessed, stopping next to him, observing the game closely. 

"Mmhm." He didn't look at you but his hand settled just above your ass, thumb stroking gently. "Paintballs only." 

You nodded. "Just trying to tag each other out?"

"Timed game," Graves told you with a flicker of a grin. "Team with most people left standing when the timer goes off wins. My boys are competitive." 

You hummed acknowledgement, watching them dart around. It looked like this entire section of compound was open - the terrain and buildings were all being used in the game. 

When the timer went off, Graves took you with him to see who had won. You only half paid attention, admittedly, busy examining the ones who'd been counted as out. 

"Looks like somethin's on your mind, sweet pea." Graves smirked down at you. 

"Let me play."

He blinked. That was clearly not what he'd expected you to say. "What?"

"Let me play." You bounced a little on your toes. "It looks like fun." 

Graves blinked, giving you a quick once-over over. You were smaller than most of his men, and untrained. But he knew your secret. "Alright, but don't cry when you get out first." 

You grinned, showing far too many teeth. "No tears," you promised, low and silky. 

It took no time to get outfitted with a vest and a paintball gun. Graves even graciously gave you a one minute head start. 

You darted away, finding a good hiding spot. Your aim was not the best, and you usually did your hunting with your teeth, but you'd make do. 

A timer went off, signaling the rest of the teams were being released onto the playing field. Graves hadn't actually told you which team you were on…

Guess that meant everyone was fair game. 

Your teeth showed in a grin as anticipation raced through your veins. Finally. A hunt. 

The first pair you spotted were clearly on the same team and patrolling together. You waited until they passed and got both of them in the back. (One shot went totally wild, but you elected to ignore that.) 

They both looked surprised to see who had shot them but moved off the playing field. 

After that, you slunk away to another good hiding spot. This time you managed to get four - another patrol of two, then a single man a few minutes later, and another single man passing close enough for you to get him. 

Your smaller stature served you well, letting you get into smaller spaces than they could. And you knew how to hunt, to wait, to be still and focused. 

By the time you'd gotten your tenth "kill", your heart was thrumming, easy confidence in your eyes. 

But you paused when a PA system flicked on with a crackle. 

"Change of plans, boys," Graves called. "First man to take her down gets a prize." 

Fuck! That wasn't the game! But you had to admit… the change thrilled you. 

Teeth showing in a grin again, you abandoned your current spot to climb. You needed to get up higher to see what you were up against. 

Roughly ten men remained, some having been knocked out by other teams. You could briefly see them as they split up. 

Good. Make this a real challenge. 

But you had one advantage they didn't. You could hear them coming. 

That was your only saving grace as one tried to corner you. You could hear him coming, and escaped around a corner before climbing to get away. 

He swore extensively when you managed to shoot him. 

Two of them got smart and tried to flush you towards a third. It might have worked, except that you spotted him up ahead, and threw yourself through a bush to get away. 

Unfortunately, that only worked until one of them got physical, tackling you to the ground. Your yelp was more surprise than pain, and you had to resist the urge to bite him. 

Graves would not be pleased if you made his men bleed.

"Caught, sir." The man who'd tackled you hauled you to your feet, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You were no misbehaving pup to scruff! 

Graves sauntered up to the two of you, smirking. "Well, well, well," he hummed. "You did better than I expected." 

You smirked right back at him. "Next time, you will not be so surprised." 

He laughed once, short and amused. "True," he agreed. "Now, for your reward."

The man released you and you turned to see who was left. Only eight. (Either you'd miscounted or there had been a bit of foul play among the remaining players.) You memorized their faces. 

You'd take them out first next time. 

You didn't bother to pay attention until Graves had a hand at your back, guiding you forward again. The training seemed to be over, as most everyone was putting away their gear. 

Graves didn't lead you back to put away your gear, though. He handed off the paintball gun to one of his men and pushed you back towards your room. 

Fully aware of what you were starting, you bit him for being pushy, growling low in your throat. He just swore, hands clenching around you, and bit you back. 

Honestly, you were a little amazed the two of you made it back to your room before the clothes came off. 

–

Graves had never expected you to do so well at paintball, but you did. You were light and fast, hard to hit when you were on the run, and clever. Not trained, but clever. 

He threw you in the paintball games as often as he could, now, just for the joy of watching you. 

And the fun afterwards. 

Finally, though, they got called out. He debated bringing you with, but… there was no easy way to explain your presence, and he wouldn't risk your life. 

You'd just have to stay and be good. 

You took the news better than expected, honestly. Only a little growling and biting. (And Graves really, really didn't mind the biting.) 

But then you did something very unexpected. 

You saw him off. 

You stopped in front of the group, eyeing them all. Graves noted with amusement how they all straightened - you'd gained a lot of respect by joining in training. 

"I expect I'll see you all again soon." The look you leveled at all of them made it clear that was an order, not a suggestion. 

The various noises of assent just made Graves hide his grin. 

You nodded once and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. But you did lower your voice, at least. "Bring me back something sweet." You winked and walked away. 

From this angle, it was easy to see that you were a predator, stalking through his base as confidently as if it were your own. 

Graves tried hard not to think about that too much, because if he did, he'd have to haul you back and fuck you on the plane. 

–

You kept yourself busy while Graves was gone. There were still people on base, so you weren’t alone. You thought briefly about going hunting, but you didn’t want to distract Graves at a potentially vital moment. 

So, you kept yourself entertained by poking your nose into every nook and cranny you could find. 

That lasted you a few days. Watching several movies lasted you a few more. And finally, just when you thought you’d risk giving Graves a heart attack just to go for a proper run, they returned. 

You did not rush them as they all disembarked the plane, standing back with your arms crossed over your chest. Some of them were injured as they got off the plane, but they were all back. You counted. Twice. 

And then there was Graves, directing his men, making sure everything got done. You met his gaze across the distance and couldn’t help but smile, just a little.

There was no sense of challenge in meeting his gaze. No fear. Just the visual confirmation that this asshole hadn’t gotten himself killed. 

He finished up quickly and made his way over to you, swagger uninterrupted, gaze fixed on you. 

He surprised you, though, grabbing your hand instead of your wrist to tow you back to his room. His, not yours. Not that he gave you time to look at much before he was kissing you like he was affirming he was alive. 

It wasn’t until much later, after you both lay sated and warm, that he grunted like he’d just remembered something.

“Brought you back something,” he murmured, moving away from you and ignoring your displeased huff. Not bothering to put any clothes on yet (something you very much agreed with), he stepped over to his duffel bag and bent over to grab a box. He smirked at you over his shoulder. “Close your eyes.”

“What?” You blinked at him, caught off guard.

“You heard me, sweet pea.”

You rolled your eyes pointedly and then closed them. This was silly. But you were willing to play along, for now. 

To your surprise, you heard the box open, heard Graves step closer. “Smell,” he ordered softly. 

You sniffed, head tipping in curiosity. You could smell the sugar, absolutely, and something floral. You huffed softly, amused at the little game. 

“Sugared flowers?” you guessed without opening your eyes, leaning a little closer. 

Graves chuckled softly, and the box rustled as he did something. “Open,” he murmured. 

You briefly made a face but you did as he asked. He put a single piece on your tongue, fingers brushing your skin as he retreated. The flavor was more intense than the smell, and you hummed in satisfaction, eyes fluttering open again. Graves licked his lips, watching you as he pulled another piece of sugared flower from the box. This time, you accepted it and sucked on his fingers, swiping your tongue over the tips to get every last bit of sugar from his skin. The scent of his arousal quickly overpowered the florals, and the box dropped to the pillow next to you. 

Somehow you both missed dinner. 

–

Graves had been considering how to tell his men about his coyote. Oh, sure, they all knew that you were his, but they didn’t know you were a shifter. And that could become dangerous, if he didn’t tell them. In case of emergency.

(The fact that he wanted to tell them had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that he wanted to show you off more. Not at all.) 

His timeline got pushed when you let yourself into his office, near bouncing on your toes. 

“I’m going hunting,” you said before he could ask. 

Graves leaned back slowly, giving you a thorough once-over. “Need to borrow some gear?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, clearly exasperated. “No. I’m going hunting.” You showed your teeth to emphasize your point. 

Ah. That kind of hunting. “Alright,” he agreed slowly. He knew you still had the tracking bracelet on, and he had to admit some curiosity to see how well it held up after you shifted. “I’ll make sure nobody shoots at you.”

“Again,” you drawled. 

Graves didn’t feel bad about that, because nobody had known about shifters at that point. Besides, it was hard to feel bad about the thing that had brought you to him. But he would make damn sure you weren’t injured under his watch. “You shifting here or out there?” 

“Here,” you answered after a moment. “Easier to not deal with clothes.” 

Graves nodded again, still watching you. “Good hunting, then, sweet pea.”

Your teeth flashed again as you grinned. “I’ll bring you back something good.” And you were gone, bouncing back out of his office before he had a chance to properly respond to your words. 

You’d promised to bring him something back.

This was something new, and Graves was going to find out what that was about. 

His boys didn’t take the news about you being a shifter quietly, but they took it. He could see they didn’t believe him yet, but they would.

And they all knew he was a man of his word. So they knew he was not exaggerating when he threatened to kill anyone who breathed a word of this to anyone else. 

But Graves trusted his boys. He trusted they wouldn’t betray him. Or you, by extension. 

The day was mostly gone by the time he heard the commotion. The call to open the gate came first, then a chorus of whistling and clapping. That was enough to pull him outside to see what the commotion was all about. 

A coyote was dragging a whole ass white tail deer into the compound, jaw clamped tight around its throat. Graves felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise - the deer was considerably bigger than the coyote, but the coyote didn’t even slow down. 

Until you stopped in front of him, depositing your trophy and looking up at him. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured. Both the deer and you. “Dragged it back by yourself?”

You huffed at him, briefly showing your teeth.

“Course you did,” Graves chuckled, crouching in front of you. He debated for a moment before he held out one hand. It took only a moment before you shoved your head under his hand, and he stroked your fur, silently thrilled. His coyote. “Gonna let one of my guys fix it up?”

You stepped back and lifted your lip in a silent warning. 

Graves chuckled, holding his hands up in a pacifying manner. “Alright, sweet pea. You just let me know what you need, then, and I’ll let you handle it.”

Mollified, you grabbed the deer again and started dragging it away from the buildings, which he appreciated. He watched you maneuver your kill around without assistance, admiring your strength and determination. His men all kept out of the way, though he did hear a few compliment you on your kill. 

This was something he could get used to. 

–

You honestly hadn’t realized how much you missed shifting until you could, anywhere you wanted. The men got used to you quickly, opening the gate for you to come and go as you pleased. An unofficial new game had popped up - try to pet the coyote. You took great joy in evading their hands and occasional playful tackles. Honestly, it was fun. 

You didn’t expect to be approached by one of the men on his own while you were sitting outside. You blinked at him, head tipping to one side. 

“Do you have a moment?” He shuffled his feet a little, scent caught between shame and embarrassment. 

“Have a seat.” You turned a little to face him fully, on high alert now. 

He sat next to you, giving you a moment to find his name patch. Roberts. His sandy hair was nearly the same color as Graves’, though he was shorter and leaner. Roberts sighed softly before he looked at you, meeting your gaze. “I wanted to apologize.”

You blinked, caught totally by surprise. “For?”

“I shot you.” He made a vague motion towards your back. “I mean, I didn’t know it was you, I just shot at a coyote. But still.”

You shook your head with a little smile. “Don’t fuss over it,” you advised. “It’s long in the past now, and I healed.” 

He frowned at you, disapproving. “Anyway, a few of us were out last week, and, well…” He rolled up his sleeve to show off a still healing tattoo. A coyote in front of the Shadows symbol. 

He had simultaneously claimed you as pack, and put himself under you. And he’d sort of spoken for the rest of the Shadows, too. 

At least, your coyote brain was trying to convince you that you now had the biggest pack ever to protect and provide for. 

You grabbed him, pulling him into a hug and rubbing your cheek over the top of his head. He held himself stiff for a few long moments before he awkwardly patted your back, looking absolutely bewildered when you pulled back. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, breathing in deep. “That’s… it means more than you know.” 

He smiled tentatively and nodded. “Sure,” he mumbled. “So, not mad at me?”

You huffed a little laugh. “Not at all.” You shook your head, gaze drifting down to the tattoo again. “May I?”

He held his arm out for inspection, and you looked over the line work and the details of it. That was definitely a coyote, and definitely the insignia of the group. 

Well. Your pack had just grown. Quite a bit.

“I love it.” You sat back and smiled. 

He puffed up a little, clearly proud of himself. “Did the line art myself.”

“Good to know.” You smiled slowly. “I might ask you to do something for me at some point, then.”

“Would be my pleasure.” He puffed up even more, resembling a fluffy rooster. “Anyway. Just wanted to show you that.”

“Appreciated.” You nodded to him and watched him go, still puffed up with pride. You, on the other hand, were wrestling with your instincts to provide for your pack. 

Dammit. Fine. You’d make a couple loaves of bread, that would satisfy the itch for now. 

The bread was a huge success. As were the next four loaves. (Graves grumbled about sending a few men for supplies, because apparently the demand for fresh bread was quite high.) 

You didn’t expect to see more of the tattoos. But you did. 

Over the next two weeks, nearly a dozen of them approached you, usually individually, to show off their own tats. Most of them got the tat on a forearm, but one got his on his back, and one got it on his calf. You couldn’t help it - you hugged every one of them. 

You never would have predicted this would happen when you’d been shot those months ago. 

“You’re not tired of that damn thing yet?” Graves asked, clearly grumbling, after the most recent soldier had jogged off again. 

“The tat?” You grinned, looking back down at your bread dough. “Nah. I like it. Might get one for myself.” 

Graves grumbled wordlessly, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle, teeth digging into the back of your shoulder through your shirt. “Won’t find one on me.”

“No?” Your breath hitched at the brief pain of his bite. This had become a habit between the two of you. “Too bad. I was thinking of offering an exchange.” 

“Exchange?” His head peeked up over your shoulder. “Of what?” 

You hid your smile, amused. “Marks,” you said blandly. “Thought you might like the idea of me wearing something of yours on my skin.” 

The quickly-stifled groan against the skin of your neck proved you right, and your smile turned victorious. “Not that,” he mumbled, lips moving against your skin, making you shiver. “Something unique.” 

You hummed softly, poking the dough one more time before tossing a towel over it to let it rise. “Well…” You trailed off, taunting, leaving the bait for him to take or ignore. 

He, of course, took the bait. “Well?” 

“Family tradition is a bite,” you mused, pushing your hips back into his. “But I don’t think that will work here. Don’t think you want a big scar.” You smirked teasingly back at him. 

“Could just get it tattooed,” he pointed out, hands settling on your hips, pulling you back into him. 

“Get a tattoo of your teeth marks?” You could feel the way he responded to that, an involuntary little jerk of his hips. “I could wear that, easy.” 

“Yeah? Wanna show off that you’re mine?” Graves tightened his grip on you, scraping his teeth lightly on the skin behind your ear. 

“More like have a permanent reminder,” you mumbled, tipping your head. “Pack already knows I’m yours, and you’re mine.” 

He bit down on the back of your neck with a groan, hands nearly fumbling as he rucked your clothes up and out of the way to get at your skin. 

It took only a few days to make the arrangements for your corresponding marks.

–

Graves normally didn't mind Shepherd. He was a demanding ass sometimes, but overall not bad.

Until right this very moment. 

"Didn't catch that, sir," Graves ground out, working hard to keep his temper. He didn't want to go flying off the handle, not now. 

"Don't play coy with me, son," Shepherd said, firm and a little condescending. "I know you've got a shifter there." 

"Don't know what you mean." Graves dug the nails on his free hand into his skin, the pain helping ground him and keep him from doing something monumentally stupid. 

"No? Then the coyote shifter isn't yours? She's a pretty thing, figured she's your type." The smirk in the general's voice was clear. 

Graves didn't respond, torn between demanding to know how Shepherd knew about her, and denying her existence. 

"I'll have a couple of my men there in a few days to bring her in."

"Bring her in?" Graves repeated, sharp and serious. 

"I'm taking her. She could be a valuable asset to me." 

Graves hit his limit. That? Was unacceptable. "No, sir."

Shepherd paused for a moment. "No?" 

"No. She stays here." Graves knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he handed you over to Shepherd, you’d never be seen again. The general was a merciless man. He’d break you, or dissect you. Or possibly both. And that was something Graves found he couldn’t live with. 

Shepherd let the silence grow between them before he snorted softly. "You sure you wanna do this?" He asked, soft and threatening. 

“I am.” Graves clenched his jaw. He was willing to let a lot of shit slide, hell, he’d done a lot of shit himself. But this? No. He’d never admit it aloud, but he was too attached to you. 

He’d never hand you over to anyone. But especially not Shepherd. 

“This won’t end well for you,” Shepherd promised. And hung up, not giving Graves a chance to respond.

Graves breathed out slowly, putting his phone down. He knew Shepherd, knew the general wouldn’t give up so easily. 

This would come down to a fight. One he was determined not to lose. 

Graves started planning. 

–

When Graves first insisted you learn how to use a gun, you rolled your eyes. Why did you need a gun? You had teeth. But he didn’t let up, going so far as to ask while balls deep inside of you, holding you still under his weight and refusing to move until you gave in. That earned him a few days of nasty looks.

But you did learn.

The worst part about it for you was the noise. Even with the headset to muffle the sound, it was jarring and took some getting used to. 

You noticed the changes on base slowly. The guards seemed more alert, constantly watching the horizon. One of the Shadows was always nearby, though they always made it seem coincidental. Graves held you tighter at night (he’d moved you into his room shortly after you both got tattooed). 

But any time you tried to ask, Graves evaded. Stricter training. Upcoming op. Refreshing their skills. All were excuses he tried. 

You didn’t quite believe any of them. 

But he clearly didn’t want you to know, so you didn’t push. You just grew restless, often walking the perimeter of base. 

He was keeping something from you and you wanted to know what. 

None of the Shadows would tell you. Apparently Graves had given them orders not to, because when you cornered one younger man he outright panicked, gaze darting all over the place, hands shaking. You left him with a snarl of discontent, stalking away. 

Not that you had to wait long, after all. 

A shout went up from one of the guards that night, well after dark. You could hear radios going off around base too, just caught a few words: vehicles, armed, Shepherd. 

You had very little idea what it meant, but the way the rec room emptied hinted that it was nothing good. 

“Come with me,” Graves demanded, hand fastening around your wrist. 

“What–?” You didn’t get a chance to finish your question as he pulled you along with him. He got a vest on you first, then handed you the rifle you’d been practicing with and ammo. 

“Stay with me, sweet pea,” he ordered. And it was very clearly an order. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” you agreed, confused but rapidly realizing how serious this was. 

Graves got his own gear on with practiced motions, clicking his comm. “How far out?” he asked briskly. You could just hear the voice on the other end, but not the words. “Copy.” Graves started moving, and you stuck close to him. 

Outside the building was nearly unrecognizable. Shadows were running around prepping, putting up barriers and hides. Graves strode through the organized chaos, right up to the gate. 

You could see vehicles approaching, four of them. The rumble of engines grew steadily louder, though the gates remained closed. 

The vehicles stopped, people piling out of them, guns down for the moment. You didn’t recognize any of them. Not that that was truly a surprise - you knew few humans. 

“Graves,” one of them called in the kind of tone of one used to being obeyed. “Last chance to hand her over.” 

Graves clenched his jaw and didn’t look back at you, though you realized with sudden startling clarity that this was all about you. Because somehow that man out there knew you were a shifter. 

And Graves had apparently refused to hand you over.

It was an interesting feeling, warmth suffusing you from Graves’s actions while dread tried to remind you of how very bad this could be. 

“Not a chance, Shepherd,” Graves called back. He nudged you back just a little, hands gripping his gun securely. 

“I’m sorry it came to this. If you hadn’t been such a fool…” Shepherd trailed off. 

You only had a moment to wonder what he meant before the shooting started. You ducked back behind cover, Graves right behind you. 

“I want them all dead,” Graves said into his comm, eyes utterly cold. You realized with a start you hadn’t seen him like this since the very beginning of your stay here. “Let’s get it done.” 

You were not ashamed to admit that you were not much help. You didn’t have the experience of these men, and this was not a fun game of paintballs. Besides, your movements were restricted to keeping with Graves. 

But you did surprise yourself when you spotted one attempting to flank around the barriers, and you shot him. He fell silently. 

For a bare moment, you wondered if you should feel bad. Not that you did - you’d killed your fair share of prey before. But prey had never been human before.

Then again, humans had never attempted to infiltrate your territory nor threatened your pack before. Not like this. 

“Good shot, sweet pea,” Graves said, speaking up over the din around you. 

You had just enough time to see his faint grin before the world exploded around you. 

You blinked at the dirt under you, ears ringing, head aching. Hands grabbed you and you growled, disoriented, at least until you heard the familiar sounds of your pack shouting. Pulling you back, away from danger. Presumably. Your hearing was still fucked, and you couldn’t smell anything through the gunpowder and smoke. 

One of them fell with a shout, something you just barely heard. You stumbled as his support vanished, falling to your knees. The other Shadow tried to haul you to your feet before he was shoved away, much harsher hands grabbing you. You yelped, the sound too canine to come from a human throat, still disoriented enough that you couldn’t properly resist. 

You almost got your feet under you, except a harsh yank from one of the two pulling you along sent you right back off-balance. You swore, clumsily grabbing for something to hold on to. Your hearing was coming back, slower than you liked but enough. 

They were dragging you off base. To Shepherd. 

If they got you that far, Graves wouldn’t be able to get you back. 

You twisted hard, managing to get a hand on one of them. He tried to yank you off balance, muttering curses. 

But you took advantage of the bare skin of his wrist that you could see and lunged, jaw locking and teeth clamping into his skin. The hot taste of blood filled your mouth but you refused to let go, even as one of them hit you in the back, hard. 

It wasn’t until you heard two gunshots, closer than expected, followed by the dead weight of the soldier dragging both of you down that you released your grip. You spat blood out of your mouth, swaying a little. 

“Sweet pea!” Graves hit the ground next to you, one hand immediately going to your cheek. Blood matted down his hair on his right side, and he seemed to be favoring that side in general, right arm kept tight to his side. Shadows surrounded the two of you, keeping Shepherd’s forces back. 

“I’m okay,” you managed, still a little dizzy. But you latched on to Graves’s vest, because he was right there and comforting. 

Graves let out a relieved sigh, giving you a quick visual once-over. His thumb smeared the blood on your chin. 

“Not mine,” you reminded him, paying no mind to the two bodies around you now. 

He nodded, tugging you closer. “Marry me.”

“What?” You blinked at him rapidly, sure you’d misheard him.

But he grinned, bright and a little mischievous, totally disregarding the active battlefield you were on. “Marry me.”

“Let’s finish this first,” you pointed out, lips twitching in response to his humor. “Kill Shepherd first. And then I expect a proper proposal.”

“Anything you want.” He pressed a hard kiss to your lips, uncaring of the blood, before he got to his feet. You followed him, swaying only for a moment before you caught your balance. 

Shepherd’s force had been decimated, only four remaining, huddled behind the protection of the armored vehicles. One tried to put down his weapon and back away from the fight, only for Shepherd to turn on him and shoot him. 

“You can end this,” Graves yelled to Shepherd in open mockery of Shepherd’s earlier offer. “Nobody else has to die.”

Shepherd didn’t respond, gaze flitting between the Shadows and Graves and you. “You really think you can get away with this?” he asked, voice absolutely venomous. “I’m a general!”

“Shouldn’t have tried to take my coyote, then.” Graves backed up, gently pushing you back as well. You were confused for a moment, trying to figure out what the plan was. There was no way he was just letting Shepherd live, was he? 

The Shadows all swarmed back behind cover, still keeping you surrounded. Something rolled under the vehicle Shepherd hid behind, and the whole thing blew up. You ducked a little, reflexively, before popping back up with wide eyes to watch. The other vehicles were also quickly destroyed. 

You followed Graves over to check the bodies. All dead. You tipped your head, looking down at Shepherd, silently wondering if he’d really been willing to die to get his hands on you. 

“Let’s clean up this mess,” Graves ordered, and Shadows immediately jumped to obey. But grief hid in his eyes as he looked at his base. You leaned into him, silently offering support. You’d help count the losses. 

“You still owe me a proper answer,” Graves murmured, his hand settling low on your back. 

“You still owe me a proper proposal.” You smiled, leaning harder into him. “Even though you’re already mine.”

He huffed. “Bold of you,” he mumbled, head dipping closer to yours. “I like it.”

“You always have.” You smirked, tipping your head enough to bare your teeth at him and watch as his pupils dilated. 

“Trouble.” But Graves just grinned at you. 

–

The base was a mess. Graves helped as much as he could, contacted families and next of kin as necessary. 

The general was disposed of quietly, their trail covered. His Shadows wouldn’t face the fallout of this. 

You held up better than Graves had expected, supporting his men when needed, doing whatever you could to help with cleanup and disposal. Honestly, he was impressed. 

He also hadn’t forgotten his promise to you. 

Once he was sure the danger had passed, he made some arrangements. Flight plans, necessary permits, a few phone calls. Everything was set and arranged exactly how he wanted. 

He had basically everything. The last thing was something he needed to pick up himself. He snuck out while you were hunting, knowing you’d more than likely pout but he’d be back soon. 

“How do you feel about goin’ on a little trip, sweet pea?” He asked a few days later, so as not to arouse suspicion. 

You shrugged from your place in his lap, idly watching a few of the younger Shadows playing a video game. “Never done much of it,” you admitted easily. “Never had a chance.”

He hummed, one hand squeezing your hip gently. “You interested?” 

“Sure, if you want.” You shot him a little smile over your shoulder, relaxed still. That told Graves everything he needed to know.

He didn’t quite pick out your clothes for you, but he did insist on a few things. Like something nice to wear. (And if he snuck in a brand new set of lingerie for you, well, he liked seeing you in pretty things.) 

You didn’t like the plane trip, that much was obvious. Tension pulled your shoulders tight, and it took you a long time to get comfortable and settle down. Graves kept one hand on you to help where he could, and was finally rewarded when you fell asleep against his shoulder. 

Watching your awe looking around somewhere new warmed him in unexpected ways. (Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He did ask you to marry him, after all.) 

He gave the two of you three days to adjust to the timezone change and do some touristy things. Not that he much cared - he’d been all over the world by now. People were people everywhere. But giving you this experience? So much better. 

You eyed the Eiffel tower with distrust when he led you to it, and he couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Don’t worry, sweet pea,” he drawled, extra sweet. “You’ll be fine.”

You immediately scowled at him (just as he’d hoped) and stalked up to the lifts. He followed a little more leisurely, knowing everything was taken care of. 

He caught your expression as the sun set, the wind whipping against the two of you, the city sounds all but gone. You looked awed again, hands gripping the railing as you looked over the city. Graves smiled, pleased with his timing, and settled next to you for a minute, just letting you look your fill. The softer light on your skin filled him with a kind of warmth he’d never thought he’d experience. 

“Hey, sweet pea. Got a question for you.” 

You turned to him and blinked, totally unsuspecting. Graves took a knee in front of you, pulling the ring box out of his pocket, and your eyes went wide, one hand flying up to your mouth. 

“I promised I’d do this proper,” he murmured, looking up at you, blind to everything else. (There were at least two of his Shadows in the crowd, you were safe, that’s all he cared about.) “Never thought I’d be here, but you’ve been a surprise from the beginning. I want you to keep surprising me, sweet pea. Will you marry me?”

You nodded and then huffed a soft almost-laugh. “Yes,” you managed, hands settling on his cheeks before you kissed him. The crowd around the two of you clapped, a few whistles coming from his boys. Graves grinned at you, honestly ridiculously happy, and slid the ring on your finger. 

Standing there with you in his arms, the stars slowly emerging even as his boys put on a hell of a fireworks show for the two of them, Graves knew one thing for certain. 

He’d gentled his coyote, but you’d gentled him every bit as much. And he was just fine with that. 

[blingblong55]

Just a bet- Philip Graves

Based on a request: Can I make a request, please of a heartbreaker Graves x Naive/Innocent Fem!reader? (Am in need some feelings hurt to feel something) Prompts; - reader is a general’s daughter, whilst grave is an ambitious soldier who aimed to be a captain (or somewhere along the lines) - There were bets of who can f-ck the general’s daughter happening behind the scene among the soldiers, and Grave decided to join in - Unfortunately reader, fell in love with grave. Found out it just a bet, felt betrayed and heartbroken. I hope this is okay with you, also it's okay if you don’t want to do it 🫶🏻🫶🏻 tqsm!

F!reader, angst, implied sexual relations

A/N: This will be short but I hope you enjoy :)

R/L/N, R/N, a 24-year-old soldier, daughter of General R/L/N. You are beautiful, no doubt about that, but that thought would soon leave when you'd eventually find the truth out.

Your dad was one of the most respected generals in the army, always having soldiers ask what it's like to grow up with such a man as your father. You, of course, have always been proud of him, for all his accomplishments and his success. Your dad always raised you to be kind and nice, always kept you far from the military life, in private schools and at times you'd be homeschooled. Once you joined the army, your dad was proud to have you under his command, mainly because he knows damn well he can take you out of any risky assignment. This of course brought many arguments between you two, but so far all is good.

There was one very ambitious soldier at base, a 27-year-old lieutenant that went by the name of Philip Graves. You never talked to him much before the whole 'thing' happened. Your dad had brought him to dinners and said he felt Graves had what was needed from a future commander.

A few of the soldiers at the base were at a bar once, your name was brought up after a few drinks in.

"heard she is single." a younger soldier said.

"I'd honestly ask her out if she wasn't the general's daughter." another spoke.

"I think I could." the men laugh at the last man's comment.

"yeah, like she would let you hit." the other men laugh.

"but the bet is still on, yeah?" a sergeant asks.

"like we would forget." one answers. You see, the men have seen you workout, how your body looks in your workout clothes. The way your breasts look so big in that hoodie and how your thighs are so thick they move so perfectly when you run. So, after they had collectively agreed you were attractive, they all placed bets. 'Whoever can sleep with you first and get proof, would be the winner of the money collected.'

"I think I definitely could." Graves spoke up, and the men turn to him, "oh yeah? How about a bet?" one of the other sergeants asks. "What kind of bet?"

"If you can get into her pants by, let's say, next month...you win the money we have placed on this bet." the sergeant confidently said.

"How much money?"

"so far, 300, so you in?"

"Better start handing me that money." Graves chuckles and the other men laugh, some pat his shoulder others are intrigued to see if he would be the one you sleep with. And after that night, he had two things to do, use you to win that bet and use you to get your dad to maybe promote him to a higher rank. Easy on paper, but he knew you and heard from your dad how you were, so he knew it would be a little hard to get them both done. 

13 hours after he placed himself in the bet, he spotted you, talking to your dad, maybe about some stupid father-daughter thing. "Hello, sir," he said as he approached you both, Graves was already beyond the point of being too formal with your dad. "Son," your dad always greeted almost every young soldier like that, "how can I help you?" your dad finally asked. "Was maybe thinking of inviting your daughter here on a date, but because you are my general, I need to make sure it is okay with you." Son of a bitch never even spoke to you, besides the usual awkward 'hey's' around the base. "I can say yes, but this is up to her." your dad answers to him. Meanwhile, you stand there, confused and shocked. 

You knew your parents thought you'd end up alone, so just to satisfy them, you agreed on the date with him. By Wednesday of that week, you and Graves went on that date. It was surprisingly nice and he was so kind and such a gentleman towards you. You lived off base, per the request of your dad to live with them, 'much safer and you won't have to share your room or shower.' your dad had argued. So, when the night came to an end, Graves drove you back to your home. The entire way there, he was telling jokes and asking if you were comfortable enough during the whole thing. 

Once at the front door of your home, he leans in and kisses your cheek, "I had so much fun r/n, I do hope you think I am worthy of another date like tonight." He had a certain charm to him, no doubt of that. You, being so happy that for once a man hasn't asked you for any explicit stuff agreed on the next date. "Oh thank you so much, it truly is a privilege to get another date with you." His underlying motives are hidden so well under his 'nice and gentle' mask. He made sure you walked into your home before he even drove away, another reason to give you he was a trustworthy guy. Truth be told, that was how he was, bet or not, he always did treat his dates with respect and care and this time around he'd treat you extra special. 

After a few more dates and only 18 hours left of his deadline, you two found yourselves in a bar. It was the one on the east side of the town, far from the base, making it the perfect place to get you in the mood. His hands at times would rest on your thighs, waist or the small of your back. And once he got you hooked, he led you to his car. Lips on yours as he laid you on the backseat of his truck. Without much effort, you two eventually were undressed, hands wandering on the other. Lips kissing and meeting skin, all was going to plan. For a while on dates, he'd drop little things about himself, who he wanted to be in the army. What his aspirations were and as he soon had you falling for his charms, rumours of a set of promotions were circling base. 

The last thing he had was the bet. As he claimed your body for the night and whispered sweet nothings, the deeper you fell into this false hope he had given you. And all you wanted at the time was someone to love and to hold, not someone who'd use you for who you're related to and not money. He took, as proof, a picture of him kissing your shoulder, your tattooed wrist in frame. If only you knew at the time what the picture would be used for. The shame and sorrow his games would bring you. 

The next day at the base, the picture was shown to the group of men that had placed bets. You looked for him around the base and told him he'd be at the mess hall. "Can't fucking believe you lucky bastard on the bet." the sergeant spoke with a chuckle. You heard this and wanted to know what bet he entered. "Yeah, I tell you, she thinks I did like her." 

"how desperate of her to think someone likes her for her and not that body." some of the other men laugh at the sergeant's comment. Your eyes immediately watered, the humiliation he had put you through. If you weren't so blind, he would've never had his way with you, if you saw his real motives for smooth-talking you at that bar maybe you'd still have pride in yourself. This whole time, you thought these soldiers and especially him, just wanted to talk and be friends. 

For a moment, you did believe someone showed interest in you not in what you looked like. They say beauty is pain, but the shame and sorrow such beauty brings when you are used for some bet is more than just the pain to be beautiful. 

My heart, my hips, my body, my love Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

[soapyghost]

Scarred- Graves x Fem! reader

Warnings- swearing, violence, mentions of death, guns, angst (A LOT OF ANGST) dark Graves, prior relationship with Graves, mean Graves, smut, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v. ALSO SPOILER WARNINGS- IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE MW2 CAMPAGIN PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT IT SPOILED. THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE GAMEA/N: I was chatting with @johnnytavish about a post game angst filled Graves and this is the product of that so enjoy. Wordcount- 3k

He hadn’t even so much as looked at you since he was brought back. After the crushing defeat in Las Almas, he’d changed. The 141 squad had assumed that Commander Graves had died in that tank, and to their credit part of him did. He no longer laughed or even smiled. His somewhat jovial demeanor was never seen again.

General Sheppard had been the one to coordinate the rescue mission, fully expecting it to be a body retrieval. When you and the small group of remaining Shadows touched down in the dead of night your heart was in your throat. You always knew this was a possibility, that you would lose him. But now being smacked with the reality that Graves really was gone shattered you to your very core. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, you thought to yourself. The sweet promises you two had shared all those nights twisted up in the sheets of his room had all snapped like glass. They would never come true now.

You came up first to the metal heap of the tank, unable to contain your anxiety. Wrenching open the door you saw him. He was pale and blood battered. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes as you stumbled into the scrapped hull and reached to find a pulse. As your fingers touched his neck you almost yanked your hand away, he was warm. He was warm.

You could feel the faint dancing pulse beneath his skin. “He’s alive” you screamed. You hoisted him over your shoulder with a strength that you never knew you had. “Get me EVAC NOW!” You shouted, placing him gently on the ground. Swallowing hard to force the tears to recede back into your skull you began removing some of his gear and throwing it at one of the other shadows, you began to search his body for wounds. There was a huge gash on his face that went from the top of his forehead down through his left eye, across his lips ending at his chin. It was bleeding pretty heavily and may need stitches. Continuing your search you came across several broken ribs, a fractured shin and too many cut wounds to count. He was battered and bruised almost beyond recognition but he was alive.

The months after his rescue felt like years. He had lost sight in his left eye because of the cut he suffered, and it snapped something in him. Graves vowed that he would take something from 141 for the things they took from him. Gone was the man you knew, the man you loved, and all that remained was a husk of a man fueled only by revenge. You had tried to talk to him on dozens of occasions but he never even looked your way, let alone deign a response. The anger began to well up inside you after each encounter. This man vowed to protect and love you and now he can’t even look you in the eye. You were supposed to go away together after this mission. Take a month long vacation on some sandy beach thinking about nothing other than each other. Yet here you were, in the dark damp forest in hiding from the rest of the world. His greed had ripped everything from you.

Now that he had fully healed you were going to corner him. You bit your lip as you went over and over in your mind how you were going to talk to him, a stranger in the body of your boyfriend. You had gone over and over in your mind the things you wanted to say but it all flew out the window the minute you see him walking towards you. You reach out to him as he begins to pass you and shove him into a storage room.

“What the fuck Snow?” He snarled. He didn’t even use your real name. This lit a fire inside of you that no one could extinguish. You’d been fucking him for months, and all this man could say was your code name?

“What the fuck?” You scream back at him, “You’re asking me what the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t said a single word to me since I pulled you from that tank. I saved you Phillip and you can’t even look me in the eye or even say my goddamn name!” Your voice getting higher and higher as you continue to let out every morsel of anger that had been consuming you. “I thought you DIED!” You finish, choking on the last word.

“I did” he spat back at you, eyes finally reaching yours. They were devoid of all life. The sparkle that once thrived inside them had been killed. He wasn’t your Phillip anymore. He was Graves.

His words stung. You couldn’t help the tears that began to swell and push past the dam of your eyelids. They streamed down your face like a waterfall in the early spring.

“No. I saved you. I got you out of that tank and back home. I brought you back to me!” You wailed in a feeble attempt to get Phillip back. You punched him like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but he didn’t even flinch. Your punched bouncing off of him like they were nothing. He grabbed your wrists “Enough” he commanded.

You stare at him for a moment, searching his eyes for answers but found none. Wrenching your hands free from his grasp you spun on your heels and reached for the door. Before you were able to touch the handle a pair of hands grabbed your waist and spun you around, forcing your back against the wall. His lips crashed onto yours, hungry, feral and almost animalistic. This kiss was nothing like the sweet kisses you had shared countless nights in his room. Regardless your body melted into his just the same as it did on all those shared evenings. You kissed him back, thankful that you had even a sliver of him back.

You break away first, gasping for breath. “Phillip you can’t just not speak to me for months and then try to fuck me in a supply room” you whisper, trying to focus. His kiss momentarily erasing all anger that you had within you. The familiar scent of sandalwood and musk washing over you like a warm blanket. Pushing him away you see it, flicker on his eyes for a millisecond, but you see him again. He's in there somewhere. "Phillip, please. What is going on?" you blink back tears again.

"I can't. I just can't" he chokes out after what seems like an eternity of silence. His shoulders go limp as he looks down at the floor, "I can't hurt you again. This has to end" he whispers, so quietly you have to pause. "What?" your voice cracks. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment and he pushes past you and leaves you alone with just your demons.

It had been several weeks since that day in the supply room, and you had thought about what he said every waking moment of every day. Waking up every morning only to remember the man you loved said it was over was like being stabbed. No, being stabbed hurt less than this. The mundane days blended, wake up, feel like you're being stabbed, see him, work, cry yourself to sleep, rinse and repeat. Every time you saw him it felt like you stepped on a land mine, all your bones shattered, you could feel your blood pumping. All you could think about was him saying "I can't hurt you again". What could he mean by that? He's hurting you day in and day out by ignoring you. No matter what happened, you would always love him.

Things had gone back to him speaking to you for work related things, just like how he was when you first joined Shadow Company. When he treated you just the same as every piece of dirt. It took almost a year to crack past Graves to Phillip, and the fear of having to do it all over again was almost too much. But today was different, you saw that spark return to Graves while watching him command a fresh group of Shadows. It was a different spark, one fueled by the need for revenge. At least he was alive again. He was harsher with the new recruits, more than likely because of the sting of losing so many. He was harsher on you too.

"Snow! Shoulders back" he barked, one day during range shooting. You knew your stance was fine, he knew your stance was fine. "Fuck off" you shouted back at him. The whole range went silent. Fear creeped up into your chest, you've spoken to him like this hundreds of times and never had a fear like this. Every set of eyes in the shooting range bore into your body, shredding into as if they were shooting you with their guns. "My office, NOW" he roared, before turning and storming in the direction of his office. You stood there, stunned. He had never used this tone on you before.

You followed after him, like a puppy who chewed up the mail and was about to be reprimanded, tail between your legs. Once you arrived at the door to his office you paused, a million and one thoughts passing through your mind. What if he kicked you from the Shadows? Where would you go? You were already in hiding because of his actions. Would he turn you over to the authorities? No. He wouldn't do that, you took a deep sigh and knocked on his door.

"Come in" came his muffled voice. You slowly opened the door to find him sitting at this desk, hands rubbing his temples. "Sit down" he commanded, gesturing to the plus chair that sat across from his desk. You silently did as he asked, sinking as deep into the chair as physically possible. "You can't talk to me like that Snow." he sighed, as he looked up at you. "Why? What has changed so much that I can't even speak to you?" you whimpered, desperate to fly across the desk and shove your face into his chest like you used to. "Everything has changed, Y/N. Like you said, I almost died. I can't let that happen again. I will not be weak, and that's what you make me" his voice was measured, and restrained.

"I don't make you weak Phillip, I make you human" you pleaded. "Stop being Graves and be Phillip for one goddamn minute." You searched his eyes for the flicker again, but all you could see was Graves. Your mind was swimming with how you could get him back, get back to what you were. Before you registered what you were doing, you leaped over the desk and into his lap. He stiffened at your touch. Placing your hands on his cheeks you forced him to look at you, "Please." you whispered as you leaned down to kiss him.

It took a moment, but he finally returned your kiss. It was the same as the one you shared in that supply room, hungry and feral. Crazed even. His hands began exploring your body, setting fire everywhere he touched. It felt so good to be touched by him again. Every neuron in your body was firing, every sense was filled with him. His tongue pressed against your lips, demanding to be let in, so you parted your lips. You involuntarily bucked your hips into him, and let out a small moan. You had missed this, missed him.

In one swift movement he lifted you off his lap and onto your knees. You looked up at him puzzled. He simply looked down at you and began to unbuckle his belt, and it became clear. A surge of excitement ran through you, this was different. Normally when you had sex it was soft, loving almost fairytale like. This was pure lust, and it sent a thrill down your spine. Your hands reached up to help undo his zipper and release him from those tight black cargo pants. His cock sprung out of its cage and slapped against his stomach. He was huge, you had almost forgotten how big it really was. You took no time in eagerly grabbing the shaft and running your tongue up it, all while looking through your eyelashes at him. A guttural groan escaped his mouth as he threw his head back. You popped the head in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it, lapping up the precum. He grabbed a fistful of hair and began to guide your head, shoving himself deeper and deeper into your throat.

You gagged and tears welled in your eyes as he hit the back of your throat. The sound only sent him into overdrive, as he began to forcefully bob your head onto his cock. The combination of saliva and precum began to drip down your chin as you worked him inside your hollowed cheeks. Finally you pushed back on him to come up for a breath.

"Fuck, I've missed you doll" he breathes, eyes on yours. He hoists you up and onto the desk where he makes quick work of your pants. Throwing them into the corner of the room his attention turned towards the lace panties that barely covered you. You smiled up at him as he took you in, "You vixen" he smirks as he grabs the waistband and shimmies them down your legs. Once you're free of all barriers, he shoves your legs apart and drops to his knees and in-between your thighs. The warmth of his tongue against your folds causes a gasp of pleasure to erupt from you. You desperately grab onto the edges of the desk to ground yourself. He felt like heaven between your legs, the way he lapped up every ounce of you. His tongue sliding in and out of you, before sliding two fingers in. A moan of pleasure escapes from your lips as he picks up his pace, using his thumb to rub your clit. He hadn't forgotten how to please you. You were putty in his hand, literally. Your body turned to Jell-O as you began to feel your orgasm creep up on you. Your soft moans were music to Grave's ears, as he continued to rub your clit and relentlessly fuck you with his fingers. "Fuck, mm- don't stop Phillip. M' gunna cum" you mewl.

All at once you feel his fingers slide out of you, and you tense at the loss of your orgasm. You snap open your eyes and open your mouth to protest but before the words escape your mouth his lips are on you. He flips your body around so your chest is now on the desk and your pretty ass is in the air.

"God, what a sight." he muses, "what would the company think if they saw you on your Commanders desk, begging for it". You simply wag your ass and whisper "please". You hear his pants fall to the floor and feel him pressed up against you. His breath hot on your ear as he lines himself up and thrusts himself into you. A yelp escapes your lips at how hard and fast he entered you, filling you up to the brim. "Fuccck" he drawls into your ear, "You feel so fucking good".

He doesn't give you a moment to get used to his size before he takes a fistful of your hair and places his other hand on your lower back before he starts a relentless pace. Your eyes roll back into your head as you become fuck dumb on his cock. The moans escaping your mouth coupled with the slick sound of his cock pounding your pussy are absolutely filthy. A string of curses leave your lips as he takes his hand off your back and slips it back to your clit, rubbing unforgiving circles. His touch sends shockwaves through your body, and the familiar feeling of your orgasm slowly begins to return.

"Cum for me" he commands you, "Cum for your Commander." The gruffness of his voice sends you tumbling over the edge of euphoria. A mess of his name and every curse word in the world fall from your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm. "Mmmm, you listen so well here" he whispers in your ear. All you can do is gasp and nod your head, too cock dumb to form a proper sentence. His thrust start to become sloppy, knowing he was close you tighten your core, causing your walls to flutter on his cock. The grip on your hair tightens in response and grunt leaves his lips as he twitches inside you, his cum filling you up, and leaking out dripping onto the floor. His breath is heavy against you as he leans down, forehead on the back of your skull.

You both take a moment to catch your breath before you turn around to face him. You had never had sex with him like this. It was always something out of those silly movies where the guy treats the girl like a princess. It was all southern charm and honey. This was down and dirty, sex on his goddamn desk. You look over him, wondering what happened to that but also secretly loving this new side. He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss gently on your forehead before zipping up his pants and retrieving yours. It was him again, for a few moments you got Phillip. After you had redressed he allowed you to hold him for just a few precious minutes before he gently removed your arms from him. Just like you used to, every time you'd both finish you would sit there arms wrapped lazily around each other, simply basking in the others presence. Slowly you looked up at him, a smile on your face.

But the man who looked back at you was not your Phillip anymore, it was Graves.

[candy616]

Morning kisses with Phillip Graves 💋💖 (AI ASMR)

POV: He wakes you up and gets a bit excited.

Warning: ASMR kissing sounds

Transcription:

Mmm… Good mornin', baby. Oh, you're so sweet… Why are ya so sweet, sugar? I could just eat ya up right now, darlin'. Yes, I'll do just that, my angel. I'm gonna eat ya whole… My cherry pie… Oh, so sweet, my love… The sweetest thing in the whole fucking world!

@bellgraves please forgive me for tagging you on this 😂🙈

I dunno guys, tell me to delete this and I will. I'm so sorry🙈🙈🙈

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

Commander (All Hell Breaks Loose)

Hello everyone, finally i got this done. It's been forever and i developed an obsession with Graves in the process of writing this. What can i say, i like the bad guys. This is for the Graves fans :)

This is a sequel/prequel to All Hell Breaks Loose Series, before Reader became a member of 141. In this Reader is an active member of the Shadow Company, taking place about 2-3 years before the series plot. BUT you can read this as a standalone, no need to know the plot of the series :) let me know if ya'll want more Graves content.

Philip Graves x F!Reader

Warnings: p in v, no protection (ya'll know the rules), cream pie, finger work (can't write down the other word) language, blood, slight sub+dom dynamic, not proofread, literally filthy

Summary: You are itching to get out of the car after a long day, and a way longer drive with your Commander's eyes set on you the whole time.

All Hell Breaks Loose Masterlist

Blood is sticking to your dirt coated skin, mixing with sweat and God knows what else. The car is too crowded, you have breathed in the air the other men breathed out. At this point, you don't care. You don't care about the disgusting clothes you are trapped in, neither the uncomfortable close contact with the person's bodies next to you. The only thing - or you would say person - you care about is sitting in the farthest seat away from you, eyes locked firmly on you, in the same state as you. He has a big cut on his cheek towards his right ear, but a huge fucking grin on his face. That damn grin is enough for you to forgot every damn bullet you shot, every little scrape and bruise.

You are itching, too restless for the last ten minute of this agonizing car ride. Base isn't that far now, but it feels like ages. Years until you can have his lips on your before literally blow up from the tension in between your legs. He is your fucking end.

Vance is talking your ear off, he's been doing that the whole ride. He has that adrenaline rush in his system working override, just as you, but damn he needs to shut up before you elbow him in the jaw. He's leaning close, you hear him, but do not understand a single word. You smile back at Philip, not caring who's seeing the fucking obvious pull to each other, and hell they probably already know he's fucking you.

When the car halts in the garage, you jump out like it was lit on fire, leaving a dumbfounded Vance behind who realized you wasn't listening the whole time, the team's laugh echoing back to you as they bicker with each other, not caring for your immediate leave.

Graves is hot on your trail, not fast enough to catch up to you, just to have the view to himself. Your body heavy with all the gear strapped on you, gun in your hands, braided hair messy with loose strands sticking out, soaked with your sweat and someones's blood. At least he hopes that it's not your blood.

The sway of your hips is still visible under all the protective clothing, and you might or might not play into it a little bit knowing he's right behind you.

You think you are so freaking discreet, but anyone who sees you chased by the Commander will know right away what's about to go down. But no one would ever bring it up, or question it. Not with Philip.

You body is burning from his stare, a smile plastered on you, full of pride and lust and everything beyond from the mission, from his apparent and steady steps close, hot on your heels, and from what he'll do when he catches you.

You practically tear down your door to your room. The room you have the privilege to even occupy, but if you think about it, this is the least for the right hand of the Commander, right?

You only manage to discard the bulletproof vest from your torso before Phil barges through the wide open door, swinging it behind his back, eyes never leaving your form. The door is shut by his back with a loud bang when you collide with him. Lips already hungrily tasting his, smelling gunpowder, sweat and iron. All that with his own unique scent is making you feral, your primal part reacting to it without faltering.

He groans into your mouth, hands grabbing your ass with an iron grip, pushing your groin to his, the bulge in his pants forces a gasp out of you, giving him the access to slide his tongue next to yours, fighting for dominance you can't match. But you'll try.

"You want this cock, don't you baby'?" He whispers into your mouth, hands trying to find a way under your shirt, fumbling with your cargo pants.

"Uhum.." You mumble, head foggy from his cold hands around your waist, his hips constantly rocking against you creating a growing pressure in the pit of your stomach.

"Uh-uh, try that again." He stops, switching to his work voice, grabbing your chin forcing you to look at him, into his eyes full of confidence. Demanding and irrefutable. Fingers digging into your soft skin, he can feel your jawbone perfectly in his hand, fitting too well to the tip of his fingers.

"Yes sir." You croak. You comply, earning the rocking motion back from his hips, an urgent small kiss planted on your lips before he retreats to take of his own vest. You help him with one hand, the other you use to search for skin, just a small touch because you know you don't have the luxury to have him fully naked tonight.

You catch a glimpse of your weapons right at the door when his vest hits the ground next to them, the weapons you should have returned back to the armory right away. But who the fuck cares when the boss himself didn't do it, right? No one cares if it's him, no one dares to care.

Now it's his turn to push you back, your lips stuck in his teeth, his rough chuckle music to your ears as he earns several moans from your throat. He takes this few steps to undo his belt, letting it hang lazily out of the waistband.

He guides you until your ass bumps into your desk, several papers fly off of it, his hardness grazing the insides of your thighs when he lift you up to sit on the desk. "You look so fucking beautiful right now, fuck me." He growls, leaving your mouth to suck on any available soft spot on your neck, enjoying the veins pulsing under his lips.

"You waited for this all day, huh? Is that right? Tell me." He commands again. You have to talk unless you want to be left there hanging, with so much pain in your core for him.

"Yes." You breath out, giving him more access to your neck, his teeth leaving aching marks soothed with his soft tongue after. The desk slams into the wall as he rocks his hips again and again, and it makes an awfully loud noise. And he's not even inside you yet.

"Yes what?" Fucking hell. "Yes, sir."

"Atta girl."

"I want you." You say, barely above a whisper, already lost in the building up ecstasy of him.

"How? Use your pretty voice, don't go shy on me now." He retreats from your neck, admiring his handiwork from afar, and you whine a little before you feel his hand around your belt. You nod repeatedly showing him how much you approve of his action. Your eyes flicker down. "Eyes up here angel. I asked something."

Oh yes, what was it?

"Fuccccck." You moan, furious with his teasing. "I want you inside me. Have me, fuck me, love me."

"I know, fuck i knew right away when you looked back on the field. You fluttered those pretty lashes at me with a big fuckin grin on your lips. You were already soaking wet..." He halts for a moment just to shove down his hands in your pants, to your folds, so slick his fingers slide perfectly down to your opening. His eyes flicker, lips parted with a sigh. "...just like right now."

His fingers got lost in your slick folds, thumb pressing and circling on your heat with such a force that the knot in your stomach pulls your insides towards that particular place he assaults. So deliciously slow put persistent, using the right amount of pressure that's quickens your already rapid breathing.

You don't catch on your movements that comes so naturally,just when his other hand stops your hips from grinding against his fingers, shooting you a disapproving look. He can act all tough and rough, but his flushed face, heavy eyelids over his lustfull eyes are a telltale sign of his very own need for you. It's not a want anymore, it's pure and addictive need. Need for a fix of each other like it's the best, mindblowing drug you every used.

He brings you back every couple of seconds with a new sensation from your haze, now two finger steadily pushing in and out of you, feral for more, you grab onto his upper arm, a way of grounding you and maybe grounding him too. "Don't play with me, Commander."

He fucking loves it. The way you keep authority for him while he fucks you is a high for him itself, his cock twitching in his pants, desperate to break free. You can feel it against your thigh, making you smirk, a smug one that will surely fuck with his brain.

"So fucking ready for me, eh?" God bless him for using his free hand to struggle down your pants, with the steady pounding and curling of his fingers in you. Sometime grazing over the sensitive bud to keep you on the edge, but not push you over it. "And needy too."

He looks his best like this, undressing you, pleasuring you with the most satisfied face you every witnessed. No successful gunfight, smooth mission, or the smell of new money could sooth his burdened features like you giving your all.

His finger slips out, a frustrated laugh leaving his lips. He literally drags the pants of off you, underwear somewhere gone with it. You spread your legs wide as soon as the clothing is gone, cold air hitting the wetness around your pussy, inner thighs and ass is dripping from his messy fingering. He steps back, looking so lost in thought, consuming the image of you, loss of words. Then the switch in his head jolts him awake, tearing his own clothing down just enough to free his length, wasting no time to meet your cunt with a grunt, the warmth of your slick turning him into putty in your hands. Muscles releasing the tension held in for god knows how long, weight leaning on you for support. It's his time to get lost in the moment, your hands gently running through his hair, enjoying this side of him until it lasts. The quiet and vulnerable him that's so rare sight, non-existent to others. Pride swells in your chest, knowing it's you who have the privilege to have his trust in you to be this comfortable.

You are so tempted to just snake your fingers around his cock, to guiding him inside of your cunt. You would die to see his face turn into a frown, mad that he isn't the one setting the tone, the one leading the course of events. Oh he would flip on you, and that it what makes this much more interesting.

"Uh-uh, don't even think about it sugar." You hand is stopped midway by his calloused fingers, sinking roughly into your arm but soft on the skin. He leans in close, his dick moving with him slightly creating a delicious friction on your clit that makes you moan so loud in the tense room. "I thought you knew better."

"I wasn't thinking." You voice is muffled by his sloppy kiss, all teeth and saliva, oppressive against your own willingness to surrender.

"I can tell." It's true, you are brainless when he is this close to fill you up, the only thing mattering is him still torturing you when he should be pounding into you by now.

"The only thing on my mind is why the hell aren't you fucking me?"

You utter with low voice, yelping right at the end from the pressure of his hand at your neck, the force of his grab faintly smacking your head to the wall behind you. There he is.

"Language! You are speaking to your superior, soldier!" His growl is predatory, your body reacting to his antagonistic action is beyond sick, but it's fuel to your fire at this point. The pressure on both side of your neck increasing, cutting off oxygen just the right amount to send you into a blisslike state, eyes rolling back, your orgasm growing tremendously in the pit of your stomach.

The ecstasy doesn't stop there, soon you feel him distance himself from your entrance just to push in with full force, there is no agonizing taunt in his movements, just pure power in his hips clashing to yours.

His hand never leaves your neck, releasing and pressing at the right moments, his dick filling you painfully good with hard thrusts. The amount of energy put to his body just to fuck you senseless is inhuman, while your drive is enough for a faint moan through gritted teeth and a dead grip on his upper arm.

"That's what you like, huh? Cockdrunk, needy for me to fill you up still covered in the blood of our enemies?" You remember him talking like this the first time, confused from why are you so turned by his words, forgetting to utter anything that makes sense, mouth hanged open.

There is in fact blood on both of you, none of it is yours. The blood on the cut on his face has dried before you stepped out of the car, and that cannot make this much mess on your uniforms. It's intoxicating.

"Yeah look at it. You are so fucking turned on. Oh. My. God." You were ashamed and embarrassed by it at the beginning, but now you just nod drunkenly, eyes jumping between the blood stains and his eyes watching your every reaction to his remarks. That is his turn on. How your behavior changes every second from everything he inflicts on you. His voice, his touch let that be harsh or gentle, his movements and actions, how much you can see or feel. And when you smile under his choking palm, clench around his cock, squeezing so sweetly he has to slow down so he will last longer, he's so gone. It's his personal drug. The burden and adrenaline of battle mixing with clear pleasure like the colors on marble. He can pick out and grab every feeling, taste them separately, but together it's the real fucking deal, overwhelming almost.

"Can i touch myself?" You ask, more like plead, the apparent but rarely enough friction on your clit is killing you, knowing the drag of his hips every 2-3 thrust is for that reason, to make you go batshit crazy. It's fucking working.

There is doubt on his features, contemplating before nodding his head in a clear motion. His gaze trails the way your fingers smoothly linger on your breast sliding slowly over your bellybutton to the place where your body needs the pressure. It seems like you aren't the only one filled with a long awaited bliss, Phil's body trembles when your fingers starts to work on yourself with a delicate touch, thrusts becoming unrushed, concentrating on your ragged breathing and hips drawing luscious circles on his length. It's a way for to get him move into you again, pushing your pelvic just to being held back by his hand. A pathetic whine leaves your lips earning an ear to ear grin from him.

"Ask for it sugar, you know how this works." Yes you do, but your whole being wants to defy him, and take from him not ask for it. You feel your high so close, so close that you couldn't stop now, won't let the pace die down. But he will, he will deny the peak from you if it means he can the double it later, and at the end he's always right. Now you just don't have the patience.

"Please. Please move." Voice high pitched out low on volume does it for him, giving you what you want. The fast pace and powerful jolt of his body into you is like electricity hitting you, the patience you lack is now dissolved from him, chasing his own release mercilessly.

The sound of the small slaps of skin against skin fills the room alongside with your grunts and moans. Your head and back rhythmically bumps to the wall with Phil's dick burying itself deep in you, hitting that oh so fucking sweet spot more often now as Philip positioned your legs higher. It's devastatingly beautiful, the whole experience stinks from the dirt and blood and your all day long sweat, but mostly the best sex you ever had in your life. You want to kiss him, suck on his tongue earning those unholy growls he usually makes, but your body is too overpowered, used and pleasured simultaneously.

"Inside me." You grunt, a hiccup like sound interrupting your words as your back hits the wall again. His gaze shots up to your face from the place where you become one, eyes laced with fog of everything happening at the moment. He's always looks lost and zoned out when he's close. "Please cum inside me." You repeat oppressing the weakness in your voice.

"Music to my ears." He smiles widely before returning his eyes back to your hands dictating a crazy rhythm on your clit, already feeling the climax numbing the back of your head, hearing the rush of blood in your ears. With every little vibrating circle on your bud you breath out a whine, making Phil switch from fast to hard, hitting your core so perfectly you come around him screaming.

Eyes roll back to your head, trying to keep yourself still on the desk while your body shakes with the full force of your orgasm, fingers numb over your sensitive clit, thinking you'll have a freaking seizure if you touch yourself again.

"Don't fucking stop now Darlin'." Graves pushes your hand out of the way, harshly pressing his thumb down earning a second wave of ecstasy destroy you, and that's all he needs to spill inside of you, grunting with smaller and smaller thrust, filling you up like never before.

You wished you could have seen him, but your mind went black and nothing could make you focus on anything else than your cunt squeezing everything out of him.

Your body shakes every time his thumb takes a lazy drag over your clit, you wonder how he manages to even move an inch after all this. All you can hear is his breaths,- vulnerably loud and rapid - coming closer, feeling his forehead buried in you chest. You stay there for a few moments, both of you regaining, trying to send signals to your limbs, but it's pretty fucking obvious you won't use them today anymore.

Philip has more presence of mind, hearing him shuffle and grumble while he slowly pulls out, and you wished he would have waited a couple of minute to pull yourself together. You hiss at the sudden emptiness, which he tries to soothe with gentle slides if his fingers on your fold, the remains of your orgasm still shocking your body.

"Fuck me." His raspy voice is scratching your ears, only that charging your battery up again, awakening what lead you to this bedroom at the first place. When you open your eyes, he's admiring his handiwork, a towel in his hands, pants pulled up loosely, all messy and breathless.

"I just did." You reply soundlessly, voice non-existent. His cheeks burning in a cute pink shade, lips turning upwards in an honest grin, the towel in his hand approaching you slowly.

"I thought it was the other way around." He says making you look up at his blue eyes filled with so much unreadable emotion, averting your attention from the drag of the towel between your thighs, which makes you take a shark breath in, too sensitive even from the breeze of the air.

He leans down to kiss everything away, to soothe your aching body, now gentle and slow, tasting the aftermath on your lips. He takes his time, sucking on your lower lip between open mouthed kisses and pecks planted anywhere his mouth reaches. Sweet, dripping from honey, apologizing for any harsh grab of your hips, sinking fingers that leaves bruises and for the sore muscles you'll surely have the morning.

"We stink." You state nose crunched up from all the smells, mind wandering to a hot long shower session. His laugh vibrates in your mouth, his palms holding your face from both sides to keep you in place for one last kiss on your nose.

"Yeah we do." There is no denying it that you are marinating in an all day long filth. "But fuck you are a sight to see darlin'"

Sometimes you see this look in his eyes that screams love, just like now, his eyes still hungry and filled with satisfaction, planting the seed in your head that he just might love you. He might.

[reveluving]

OMG!Graves and shy wife are the definition of Gomez and Morticia Addams!!!PLEASE AND THANK YOU ❤❤❤

THIS THIS THIS!!! Swooning because one; Gomez & Moticia and two; Graves and his eternal love for you 💗 >>>

Includes: mentions of s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Even though I, myself mentioned the Gomez-style arm kisses bit, I actually see it now.

You; a soft-spoken respectful, possibly even an iconic sweetheart who looks at no one but her husband with sparkles in her eyes?

Graves; a proud, brazen and successful rich man who adores his wife like no other? 

Maybe even Kai as Thing? 

I see the vision.

Always making a habit out of kissing your hands, one or both, just the back of it or up your arms like his life depends on it. Or twirling you around before trapping you against his chest or any surface with a cocky smile, feeling your body up shameless as he not whispers, but downright speaks the naughty things he wishes to do with you like he’s reading off a poem book.

Feeling your body heat up against his the more he speaks.

Always having a gift ready for you, whether in a box or a simple bow. Doesn’t matter if there’s an occasion, nor does he only spoil you when he leaves or returns from his work. Deliveries aren’t uncommon, though he prefers actually giving you the surprise himself. To see the corners of your lips twitch as your eyes twinkle at his thoughtfulness. He’s gifted you plenty of things, spoiled you on numerous occasions, but he’ll never grow tired of your reactions. 

He supports your work or interests like no other, because who doesn’t love seeing their beloved happily living their life? 

If you think he doesn’t talk (read: brag) about you to his friends or better, the people he knows who are jealous of him to have you as his dearest wife, then you couldn’t be any more wrong!

One can only imagine how many times he’s woken up before you, complimenting your features, your loyalty, your nature, and just you being his in general. 

Like bro.

He’s undoubtedly blinded by your beauty, indeed!

And your touches.

Ah, your touches.

Your gentle touches contrast with his—not exactly rough (unless you ask for it), but more so experienced, confident, unafraid. A constant reminder of his unabashed character, the lack of suppression or patience he has when it comes to showering you with his love. Something he didn’t know he had in him, nor did he ever have the chance to give it. 

Your touches either make him melt like a hot knife through butter or really, just get a rise out of him, even from anything as little as your fingers caressing his stubble, trailing your nails along his chest in the morning or even a little boop on the nose. 

Now, you don’t need to hear it from me that Mr Graves is also… experimental. 

Positions that’ll have you scream out his name like a prayer, or sex toys to elevate your already extreme level of pleasure. He’s always ready to offer it all, to be at your service, whether to have you squirm and writhe under him on the finest sheets, or tell you how much an angel you are, how the world has gifted him the greatest treasure of all. 

And God knows how different his life may be, how he may be without you by his side.

In the words of Mr Addams himself; “To live without you, only that would be torture.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[shadowbratt]

🫠🫠🫠

cw. nsfw, gn!reader with tiddies, boob jobs, possessiveness, cum play, oral, throat fucking, nipple sucking, choking, masterbation, orgy *not proofread, just pure horny

[DONT ASK HOW I GOT HERE] these are my combined thoughts with @waltzthegenderfluidpan

MINORS DNI!!

i want the shadow company to run a train on me

pls for the love of god use me 💳💥💳💥

anyways

just imagine graves rewarding his shadows for a mission well done and letting his shadows play with you

graves would be possessive enough to make a rule that they can't come in you so he has all his shadows pull out and come on your skin

having you lay naked on the meeting room table while the shadows take turns with you

giving one of them a blow job but graves doesn't even want you to swallow their cum so they cum on your chest at the last second

giving a shadow a boob job and making them cum all over your chest

some shadows being all rough and dom and mean while the others are soft and kinda subby :(((

taking two at the same time, one rough the other soft, perfect mix

the soft one fucking you gently bc they don't want to hurt you :((( bby boy just wants to make you feel good and make you and his commander happy :(((

while the rough one is fucking your throat raw, not caring how much your drooling and going cross eyed as they make you gag on their cock :(((

hands all over you, squeezing everything from your tits to your ass and everywhere in between, adding to the stimulation

the rough one grabbing your throat so they can feel their cock in your throat while the soft one is sucking so gently on you nipples :(( cradling his head so he can keep his mouth on your chest :((

god i love submissive men

graves grunting quietly from the sidelines as he palms himself through his pants, getting off on seeing his boys take such good care of you

feeling the shadows give you soft kisses and short massages after they're done :(((

[writeforfandoms]

Congrats on 2k followers! Since you like Graves now, how about something with the "Close your eyes for me love" protective prompt?

Ooooh okay okay okay let's see here...

Warnings: kidnapping, threat of violence, implied violence, non-graphic violence, non-graphic murder, mentions of blood.

--

You had no idea how you'd ended up here. Really.

But you knew it was because of your husband.

You couldn't resist tugging at your wrists again, even though you knew you couldn't get loose. At least your ankles were loose.

"Relax," one of your guards grunted. They hadn't touched you apart from tying you to the chair, and one of them even stood with his back to you.

You weren't quite brave enough to talk back to them. Sure, you sassed your husband all the time, because he loved it. But these men? Nope. Not a chance. You liked being uninjured.

You wanted to, though. Wanted to know why they'd taken you, where you were, where was your husband.

You didn't have much longer to wait to find out the answer to one of those, at least. A door opened somewhere behind you, hard enough that you nearly jumped.

"Where's my darling?" Graves sounded pissed. Much more pissed than you'd ever heard.

"She's here," came the smooth voice of the leader. Well. You assumed he was the leader, because he's the one that made the phone call to your husband. "She's fine. Unharmed, as promised. Say hi to your husband."

"I'm okay," you agreed, voice shaky. "I promise I'm okay."

"Just stay calm, sugar. It'll be over soon." Graves sounded calm, finally.

"What's going on, Phil?" You couldn't keep the fear out of your voice, fingers twisting with your anxiety.

"It'll be fine," he reiterated, more firm this time. "Close your eyes for me, love."

You obeyed, squeezing your eyes shut. Your breathing picked up at the added anxiety, but, well. When Phil took that tone, you didn't disobey him.

There were no more words from your husband. The leader started talking.

And gunshots tore through the silence. You screamed, hunkering down in your seat as much as you could.

But it was over almost as fast as it had started. A few soft thuds broke the silence.

"Okay, sugar," Graves murmured, much closer now. Hands landed on your shoulders and you jumped. "Keep those eyes closed for me, okay? Don't look."

"Okay," you managed, small and very scared.

His hands loved to your wrists, freeing you quickly. And then he helped you to your feet, keeping a good grip on you.

"I've got you, love," he murmured, low and sweet. "Just focus on me, and keep your eyes closed."

Your steps were uncertain, but Graves guided you carefully. You stumbled only once, whimpering when you stepped on something with more give than the floor. He hissed a curse and quickly moved you.

"Almost there," he assured you quickly. "You're being so brave for me, sugar, so good for me."

A few more steps and the air cooled as you stepped outside. The quality of the noises around you changed, farther away and quieter.

"Okay, sugar. You can open your eyes now."

You did. But only enough so that you could turn into your husband, burying your face in his chest and hiccuping as you tried not to sob outright. He cooed gentle nonsense to you, swaying you back and forth, as the both of you ignored the blood splattering both of your clothes.

"Clear, sir," came the soft voice of one of his men. You recognized the voice, in a hazy kind of way. He'd been at one of your holiday get togethers.

"Stick to the plan," Graves commanded, though he kept his voice softer, for you. For your comfort. "And keep me updated."

"Yes sir."

Graves finally gently nudged you into moving. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but we gotta go. There's a car right up here, okay? Can you make it to the car for me?"

You sniffled but nodded, clinging to his hand as he led you the few yards to the car. You didn't look back, barely looked at anything else until the two of you were strapped in the back seat of the car.

Then Phil hauled you into his lap, and you burst into tears. He held you steady through it all, rubbing your back and pressing kisses to every inch of your face he could.

You didn't let go of him for a long time.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Is this a series? Cause I GOTTA know who Tav is and what the fae magic was about! 👀

Dance With Me Under the Diamonds, See Me Like Breath in the Cold - Astarion x F!Reader

I've been waiting to write this for some time. I'm absolutely thrilled with it and I hope you think it's beautiful.

Reader and Astarion have come a long way since that meeting on the beach. They've made it all the way to their wedding.

“Where in the hells is Gale?” Astarion fusses while fidgeting with the brocade crimson overcoat he’s wearing. “That man is always late.”

“He’ll be here Love,” you give him a small kiss on his cheek and take his hand, trying your best to keep things calm. "He's not even actually late yet."

“Still haven’t found patience to be a virtue I see,” Shadowheart strolls over to the two of you where you wait under an arbor of night-blooming jasmine, her arm hooked in Lae’zel’s.

“Would you expect any different,” Lae’zel adds a wide smile to her words, an attempt to make it clear she’s joking. The Githyanki has certainly seen her share of change since you met her, really hadn’t you all though?

“While I’m glad you two have finally developed a sense of humor, I’d rather not be the subject of it.” You can feel his agitation rising and it’s your turn to silently plead with the universe for Gale to hurry up.

“Perhaps he’s nervous,” Lae’zel turns to her partner, pretending Astarion isn’t right there fuming.

“I am not!” Before he gets any more worked up, they both pull the pair of you into a sudden embrace, leaving Astarion stuttering and you trying not to giggle at his expense.

“Congratulations you two, we’ll go mingle and pray for Gale’s safety if he’s any later,” The two of them join arms again and make their way back over to the crowd greeting an enthusiastic Mol and her gang of children that’s expanded beyond just the original tieflings. They’re becoming quite the criminal enterprise. There are so many people here, lives you’ve both touched. Originally you’d planned to just stay at your little house for the event, but when more requests to attend kept coming, you had to choose somewhere else. Duke Ravenguard had graciously offered you private use of Bloomridge Park.

“You are nervous, aren’t you,” you whisper mischievously and watch him try to hide it.

“Of course not, I managed to convince you to come this far, now it’s all formality,” your heart skips a beat when he smiles, the tips of fangs peeking out from under his lip. Smiles like that were all too rare when you first met him.

“I don’t recall needing much convincing.” Truthfully, you don’t remember what had brought the subject up, but Astarion had reminded you that it wasn’t a point, legally speaking, as neither of you technically existed.

“It doesn’t have to be in an official record anywhere, it’s just a promise we would make to one another. And we do know the perfect Cleric for a nighttime ceremony.” The way he’d just stood there for a moment you thought you'd said something wrong. Perhaps it was bringing up a Cleric and making it a sworn oath, he didn’t exactly have any love for religion. But then he was dropping to his knees, taking your hands in his, and begging you to be his wife. It was appropriately dramatic for him. And now, here you were, gathered with friends and found family, waiting on a late wizard.

“Brother!” Beside you, Astarion braces and a pale figure collides with him, embracing him tightly

“Hello Dal,” he gingerly returns her hug, as you notice Aurelia remaining a respectful distance behind them. “It’s good to see the both of you too,” he nods in Aurelia’s direction. His relationship with his “siblings” is complicated, but the horror they shared bonds them, and some of them have tried to make a family out of what is left to them. Dalyria seems to be the most persistent, she even had the two of you come visit their home in the Underdark.

“I’m so happy for you Astarion,” she finally releases him but leaves a hand on his arm fondly. “You’ll have to come visit again. I’ll even make Petras promise to behave.”

There’s turmoil in him only you can see, he would love to forget about anything that reminds him of Cazador, but the sisterly love Dal tries to give him is something he’s missed in his life. “At least it will be safer for him that way.”

“Stop,” she smiles and gives him a peck on the cheek. “We’ll talk more later.” As she walks away, Aurelia gives a stiff wave.

“His time is up, he's de-” A flash of light interrupts and when it fades two figures are standing amongst the crowd, a wizard you know well and one you briefly met.

“Sorry for the wait,” Gale begins awkwardly, trying to ignore Astarion’s considerable glare, “we were occupied in a bit of an undertaking…”

“But I am sure you will find the reasons most acceptable,” Elminster takes over, giving your floundering friend a reprieve.

Another flash of light as two more figures appear and you can't believe your eyes. Your heart leaps and you shout inadvertently. "Karlach! Wyll!" Without a second thought, you launch yourself at both of them, Astarion following along more reservedly.

"Steady on there, Soldier," Karlach pulls you into a smothering hug.

"How," you ask, smoothing the cream lace of your dress as she lets you go, still stunned she's outside Avernus without exploding.

"Wizards," Wyll smiles, glancing at Gale and Elminster. "We had to find a way back, there's no way we'd miss this."

"It won't hold forever, but we think we've got a way I can come back for visits. Until we get something permanent. Good news is Zariel's seemed distracted by something lately."

"I suppose overall this is an appropriate excuse for being late," Astarion finally relents.

"Aww, come on Fangs, don't be sour, it's your wedding." Karlach has a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Do not," but it's too late, the tiefling picks him up in a crushing hug. "I missed you too Karlach."

Tears suddenly start to form in your eyes, seeing them all together again, it was something you feared might never be. Wyll gives Asatrion a less brutal greeting and you turn to Elminster. "Thank you. You will stay right," it's the least you can do.

"Gale has assured me there are to be many culinary delights after, and of course, I've never seen a vampire spawn get married. So I believe I shall."

"Ah. I see Father made it," Wyll waves to Duke Ravengaurd who had been waiting a respectful distance away. "Best go see him, we'll catch up more after."

"You both better save a dance for me," Karlach calls over her shoulder, taking his arm, and kissing his temple.

"Tell me you have them," Astarion has fixed his attention back on Gale, and you rush to his side before he can begin another tirade.

"Worried I would eat them?" Gale has recovered himself from Astarion’s initial onslaught and is smiling brightly.

"Yes," your beloved is still in no mood for jokes.

"Honestly Astarion," you give him a look.

"Ugh, fine, I'll calm down. Once he hands them over." You're lost as to what Gale has that's so important considering the occasion.

"Never change my friend," he laughs and pulls a small box from a pocket on his robes and opens it gently. Inside there are two gold rings with small red stones set in them, you can feel the hum of magic in them.

“Sending Stones?” You glance at Astarion as he takes the box from Gale.

For a moment he seems almost shy about it. “I thought it would be nice if we were always able to speak to each other, no matter what. I know it’s not feasible to never be separated.” The two of you had spent almost every moment of the last couple of years in each other’s presence, but as Astarion continued to heal, he seemed more comfortable with time spent apart.

“You’re adorable, you know that,” your lips brush the tip of his nose, the gift is an incredibly sweet sentiment, and you’re so proud of how far he’s come.

Under the right circumstances, vampires actually can blush. “I..” he starts, sounding like he’s going to grouse about something, probably being called adorable in front of everyone, but stops. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why you think that my Love, after everything I’ve done.”

You reach up to brush his cheek and run a finger through his curls. “That wasn’t who you really are.”

“I take it, we're ready.” Isobel joins you under the arbor, eyes already fixed on the moon above, and you both nod in response. “Then let us begin,” her voice carries to the crowd and silence falls. “We come here, under Our Lady’s Light, to bless this couple and sanctify their bond.”

You honestly don’t remember many of Isobel’s words after that as Astarion takes your hand and you get lost in his soft, crimson eyes. Maybe it’s a bit terrible of you to ask Selune’s blessing and then not pay attention, but you think she can understand. “The rings,” Isobel prompts and Astarion retrieves them from his pocket, opening them so the Cleric can bless them. “May the Moonmaiden’s light ever guide your hearts toward each other.” A nearly imperceptible mote of silver light seems to land on them and lends the jewels in them an unearthly glow.

Astarion tenderly picks one up as you proffer your finger. Isobel had agreed to let you both speak your own vows, as long as they didn’t directly offend any of Selune’s teachings. You’d reassured Astarion every step of the way that you didn’t need it to be a sworn oath in front of clergy, but he’d oddly insisted, saying he wanted to swear himself to you to the fullest. “As long as it’s Isobel though, she’s the only trustworthy one.” Shadowheart was still figuring out how much religion she wanted in her life, though it seemed Selune was patient as she continued to have a Cleric's gifts.

The ring slips on your finger perfectly and your heart stutters, your vision getting watery again. You do the same for him in turn and you both entwine your hands, speaking in unison. “Unto thee, I vow, mine heart and home, mine life and love, for now, and all seasons. Let me never from thy side be parted, and unto thee, no evil do. Until, at last, my life shall leave me, this my beloved, is my pledge to you. So I do swear.”

“And so sworn before our Lady, I do pronounce thee wed.” The crowd behind you applauds, and you can barely see Astarion through the tears.

Lae’zel and Karlach are shouting raucously, “Kiss! Kiss!”

You start to lean forward and notice his eyes are just as wet as yours. “Hells, why did I agree to do this in public,” he laughs, dabbing his cheeks with the cuff of his sleeve.

“You couldn’t miss being the center of attention,” your laugh is lost in a happy sob. “Damn it, kiss me before I pass out or something.”

Softly, he pulls you in, lips finding yours. The chaste peck turns deeper, giving the crowd what they want judging by the noise. But then something unexpected happens, there’s the tinkle of mischievous laughter, as though a woman stands near to you. A voice that’s both honey-sweet but radiating power whispers in your ear, “congratulations my dear child,” and you feel a surge of fae-touched magic, reminding you of that day you took a different oath.

The kiss breaks and Astarion is staring at you, surprise clearing away his tears. “I know you.”

Everything goes numb in the rush of terror that follows, he’d learned some of who you were before the Nautiloid, but there was much still to tell. “Astarion I’m so-”

A slender finger is pressed to your lips. “Hush Love, tomorrow. And it changes nothing, I still love you with all my unbeating heart. Now let’s indulge everyone since they came all this way to celebrate us.”

The night is full of feasting, drinking, song, and dancing. The two of you mingle with old friends and those whom you met only briefly, the scents of a delectable feast wafting through the air. When the music starts, you share a waltz under the night sky, Astarion holding you close and whispering in your ear, “love you Sunlight.”

True to her word, Karlach insists on a dance with both of you, surprising you with her talent for it. “I’ve been teaching her,” Wyll looks over at her and Astarion lovingly from where he’s dancing with you. “Once you find a safe place to rest, Avernus can be a bit boring.”

You stumble across Lae’zel, angrily giving gold to Mol and her crew. “She lost a bet,” Mol says proudly.

“Oh really, and what sort of scam bet did you get her to agree to, my favorite tiny criminal” Astarion asks fondly. Mol comes to visit you sometimes and you’ve decided you’d rather not know what he’s been teaching her.

“She thought you might light on fire as soon as it got religious,” Mol laughs and scampers off.

Astarion pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve seen me in temples before.”

“Chk, but never swearing an oath.”

“She has a point,” you nudge him playfully.

“Oh you are going to pay for that later,” he leans in to nip at your neck, causing you to shiver.

Dawn nears much too soon and you can see some of his happiness evaporating. There still was no solution you’d found to let him live in the light. “We should go,” you whisper in his ear, “what’s a wedding without the wedding bed?” Ever so lightly, you let your tongue brush against his ear, a spot of divine torment for him you’ve found, and listen as he gasps softly.

“Indeed my Love,” his mood revives and the two of you make your good-byes, your friends having promised to clean up the aftermath of the night. A young woman you think you recognize passes you an open bottle of wine on the way out of the park, “a gift from summer’s best,” she says and it fills you with a strange sensation for a moment before Astarion’s mouth is on yours again.

Your house isn’t far from Bloomridge and the two of you stroll the streets in a blissful, dreamy state, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing drinks from the wine that tastes of sweet berries and summer rains. Lights dance in the morning mists and everything feels transcendtly perfect as you ascend the steps to your home. Astarion pins against your front door, kissing you hungrily and letting his hands wander your body. “My wife,” he breathes against your skin as his lips travel down your neck.

Heat sparks inside you, ravenous for him. “My husband,” you sigh, lost in your love for him.

[tonycries]

F*ck You! (Literally) - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, angry séx, spítting, degradation, y’all are both mean, rough, jealousy (Toji’s side), bréeding, smackíng, arguíng during it, cúmplay, overstím, oral (female receiving), mentions of Megumi and Shiu, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.7k

A/N. Gojo next week because I miss my man smh.

It’s not often that you contemplate something that would definitely end up with a night in jail - but it seems that somehow whenever you did, your ex-husband Toji was always sure to be the cause of it.

Like that time he had the audacity to ask you out to dinner right outside the divorce attorney’s office, mere moments after signing those papers. Or when he “accidentally” sent you some mouthwateringly shirtless photos - through email, of course, because you had him blocked otherwise. Although, you’d saved those pictures - a secret you’d take to the grave.

And now. 

Standing right outside your front door, on the night of what would’ve been your fifth anniversary. His imposing figure filling the frame, that tiny scar you loved and hated so much quirking up ever-so-slightly as he shoots you a sly grin. 

He’s here.

Looking as devastatingly handsome as the day you left him.

“Happy anniversary, ex-wifey.”

And just as irritating, too. 

That snaps you out of your traitorous little reverie, and before long you’re sputtering out a shaky, “Y-you. What do you think you’re doing here?” Not even waiting for his response before moving to shut the door in his face.

“Oh, believe me,” Toji lets out a humorless little laugh, reaching up a sculpted arm to stop the door in its tracks. “I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

That was a lie - and Toji knew that. He had half the mind to think that you knew that. But it didn’t matter when you’re glaring up at him so prettily. The confusion evident on your face as you grit out a shrill, “Then why am I seeing your stupid face tonight?”

“Chance? Luck? A blessing?” 

Scoffing, “A curse.”

“That mouth’s still as sharp as ever, huh?” He cocks his head in amusement, “Did you not see my email?”

“No, I uh-” you mumble, face burning. And oh you wish you could stop yourself from thinking back to those photos - stop yourself from wanting to smack the smirk off Toji’s face that told you he was, too. “-blocked you on…that…as well.”

“Mhm.” he hums, eyes lingering too long on your comfy pajamas - his favorite ones -  and the way you’re squirming so adorably under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, m’just here to pick up one of that brat’s toys. Won’t take long n’ I’ll be out of your sight, doll.”

And you can’t say anything about that familiar little petname, because it hits you with a pang - oh, how you missed Megumi. 

He’d thrown a tantrum until he was allowed to visit you occasionally, of course. But still, it was nothing compared to how inseparable the three of you were before your relationship with Toji soured. His line of work too dangerous, the fights more frequent until you’d had enough.

“Ah, yes. Megs probably won’t even leave the house without it.” you chuckle, opening the door wider. “I was surprised to find it the other day since he said that lil’ plushie was his best friend. After me.”

“After me.”

“Liar.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fitting for our anniversary, huh?” And oh how Toji enjoyed riling you up. To spy that little furrow between your brows as he strides inside your apartment like it was his own - he did know it like the back of his hand. “I already know where the bed is, after all.”

“Yeah, and you know where the door is too.” you mutter, acting like it didn’t make your head spin to think of Toji - in your home. With you. You and Toji. In your home. You and Toji in your home. 

You hadn’t seen him since the divorce just four months ago, and here he was looking so unfairly like he fit right in. Taking up much more time than necessary as he walks towards that little wolf toy on your couch. Eyeing up the sappy romance movie paused on-screen, and those familiar photographs on the wall. 

You still had that one of the two of you from that beach getaway two years ago, he noted with delight. 

“Heh, for someone that hates me so much, s’funny you have my face hung up here.” he smirks, words just dripping with that familiar dark tone that has shivers running down your spine. “Knew you were still into me.” Defiant - challenging, even, because he always did like to push all your buttons. 

Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for-

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, walking towards where Toji stood. “I jus’ use it to scare off clingy dates in the morning.” 

And you loved to push his buttons even more. 

“Oh? Dates, huh?” And something about those words make you feel like something’s too-tense. Exciting, even. Especially as he repeats - more to himself than you, “Dates.”

“Jealous?”

“Heh, of whatever scrub took you out? In your dreams, doll.” Maybe it was the way Toji was joking - but didn’t sound like he was at all. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t move as you stepped closer, enough that you’re almost toe-to-toe with him. Probably it was the way he murmurs out a strangled, “M’not jealous.”

Oh. 

You watch the way his body stiffens, darkened eyes flitting between you and the picture and you- Smirking “Good, because m’having one over soon.”

“Oh, you little bitch.” He spits out the words, gaze hardening in a way you knew did not bode well for your - or down there. Hitting it where it hurts, “This is why I’m so fuckin’ glad we divorced.”

“Fuck you,” you tilt your head, anger simmering beneath your skin - and you didn’t know who was pissing each other off more. “So then you can get out before my date gets here.” And the emphasis on “date” isn’t lost on him.

“Such a liar.”

“M’not lying.” You were - but you didn’t care if Toji could tell because it was ticking him off just the same. “You could say he’s an-” Now close enough that you could feel the heat of his proximity. A finger stabbing right in his pecs with each word, “-upgrade.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled to his rock-hard chest, all the dips and curves of his body so sinfully obvious against your skin as he questions, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he’s-” you gasp, casting a sidelong glance at the way the muscles in his arms ripple. And it takes everything in you to try and keep your voice steady, “-bigger.” Thighs pressing together at the tiny grunt of disbelief that leaves your ex-husband, too-aware of the strong hand wrapped around your waist. “And sexier.”

“And?”

“And what?” you gulp, raising your head to blink up at him in confusion and oh- 

Oh, shit. You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Toji’s eyes were wide, a mirthless smirk spreading across his face, jaw tensing as he leans down to whisper hotly against your ear, words hoarse - stilted, like it pained him to even speak them into existence. “And what other lies are ya gonna make up?”

And you might be a genius - you might just not know what’s good for you. 

Because you’re batting your lashes just the way you knew he liked, the words - saccharine sweet, and falling from your lips faster than your whirling brain could even register them. “And he makes me cum so much harder.”

Toji’s lips are crashing against yours - and you knew it was coming. You wanted them to. Bruising, angry - like he was telling you to just shut the fuck up, another word of your imaginary date and it would kill him. 

He tasted the same as he did all those months ago. Sweet, like those cheap lollipops he would buy you and that absolute sin of his scar rubbing against your lips. 

“Fuck-” he lets out a guttural groan into your lips. Only a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he kisses you with the collective desperation of a little over four months. “Hate how you’re-” Like he didn’t even care if it left your poor lips swollen and bruised - at least that might give whatever loser coming here a hint. “-still addictive.”

With that, he picks you up like it’s just nothing, your traitorous legs easily wrapping around his toned waist. Letting you pull off that sinfully snug t-shirt to feel the smooth planes of all his muscles. Soft. Warm. 

You gasp at how he manhandles you so that your thin pajama pants are just above his achingly hard cock, throbbing, and so so angry against your core. Trousers already so damp with- precum? Your slick? 

“Hah- not jealous my ass-” you hiss, grinding down on his bulge.

And Toji’s parting mere millimeters, chuckling darkly at the disappointed little whine that escapes you. “Yeah, well, does he ever get you like this?” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, purposely not giving you what you want. “Does he ever get you this-” Grinding you against his straining erection, two fingers sliding down, just teasing the drenched front of your shorts. “-this fuckin’ wet?”

“Nah,” you pull on Toji’s silky locks, nipping at his collarbone. “He gets me wetter.”

“You little-”

It’s like something snaps - whatever’s left of Toji’s sanity, your patience, possibly you by the end of this. Anything but the thick, suffocating - tension in your living room. Now too small. Too hot. 

Before you can react, your back  is hitting the soft cushions of your couch. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw as Toji looms over you. 

“Thought you knew where the bed was?” you manage to get out, in the heat of it all. 

“Thought you hated me?”

“Gonna kill you if you break this cou-” but the rest of the retort on your tongue dies as Toji’s hands are suddenly everywhere.

Groping your breasts - your waist - your ass. Barely giving you time to even think before fisting your shirt in one hand. Too impatient - too starved - to do anything other than pull down, down, down until it-

RIP!

“Oh you fuckin’ slut.” Toji’s jaw drops into a soft little oh! at the sight of your heavenly breasts before him. No bra - exactly how he liked it. “How I missed these.” Massaging them under his hands, “Is this for him or ya really had no idea I was coming?”

“You’re t-too fuckin’ hah-” you whine as he immediately takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipples. “-full of yourself.”

And you don’t even know if Toji registered the insult - looking like he was on cloud nine as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. Pulling off with a lewd pop! only to say, “Wonder if you’re the same down there.”

You are - Toji discovers, with wonder. 

Hooking a finger underneath the hem of your already-soaked shorts to pull them off. And, hey, Toji hasn’t had this view in months - so he really can’t help himself from bringing them up to his face. Your jaw drops at his pure audacity as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy with a strained, “M’keepin’ these, doll.”

“You’re sick.” 

“And you’re soaked.” strong hands spread your legs so shamefully. You can’t fight it - how fucking wet and glistening you were for him under the dim-lighting. Toji grins cockily, “Who’s she this wet for, huh? Me or him?”

“Not- not you-” you whine, despite how your sloppy cunt was leaking all over your legs - such a mess. A mess that Toji was shifting down the couch to lick up. Slow, lazy circles right at your inner thighs. Sweet - so sweet, his favorite. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste and oh, how Toji missed this. 

Missed teasing you until you broke. 

Which, it turns out, happens fairly early.

“Y-you’re just fucking talk.” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. Your voice betraying how badly you wanted him. Needed him to do something - anything. “He-”

Toji doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - and you don’t need to - because without another word, he’s surging forward until he was nose-deep in your messy cunt.

Licking one, long stripe up your swollen folds - up and down, up and down, up and- He murmurs into your cunt, “Do ya still like when I-” Hot tongue flicking roughly against your clit. Just barely, and you’re bucking wildly underneath him. “Ah, you do. Old habits die hard, huh?”

Of course, the only response that Toji gets is a wet, pathetic murmur of something - maybe a plea, probably a curse at him to shut up. 

But it’s something that has all the blood rushing to his aching cock, something that has him biting down lightly on your inner thigh - just a little punishment. 

“What was that?” he purrs, “Didn’t seem to hear you right, wifey.”

It takes everything in you to gasp out, a barely-audible determined little, “I-I said-” fingers threading through Toji’s hair, pulling up his face. Hard, so that he’s forced to meet your eyes instead of admiring your pretty lil’ cunt. “-fuck you.”

And you don’t know what you expected - maybe an insult back, maybe for him to get up and leave you all high and dry right then and there.

But oh you should’ve known your ex-husband better, because he has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, more to infuriate you than anything as he promptly spits on your quivering pussy. 

Once. Twice.

You flinch as some splatters against your thigh, and you both know it’s on purpose. Because Toji Fushiguro always had perfect aim - but when it comes to you, well, he had to knock his bratty lil’ wife down a few pegs. 

Throwing your legs over his shoulders to lick all over your sloppy pussy once more. “Fuck me, huh?” he groans out little profanities into your cunt, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me-” 

Smack!

You register that delicious little sting on your ass far before the realization that Toji smacked you - and even later do you realize that you liked it. Slick beading through at the painfully good feeling.

Liked the way his rough palm was soothing over the sting, words strangled and slurring together as he smacks his lips against your swollen, sensitive ones. “I’d rather you fuck me than some hah- other loser.”

“S-so fucking mean-” you moan.

“So what?” His thumb draws tight little circles on your throbbing clit, the other hand looping around your waist - bruising - as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his hot mouth. “No one else could do this.” Soft tongue going all the way up from your base, “Get you this wet-” Just dipping into your clenching hole. “-taste you like this.”

“Hngh- fuck-” you groan, as he alternates between flicking your clit so mean and squeezing his tongue into your tight cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck- s’too much-”

Too much? Toji wanted to laugh - if he wasn’t so addicted to the feeling of your gummy walls stretched out so obscenely on his tongue, anyway. He knows you can take it - you always did. 

And he tells you that - a little over ten times, actually, as the hand on your waist arches you deeper and deeper onto Toji’s tongue. Fucking you so harshly - merciless. Unrelenting. Like he was taking any and every shred of anger out on your ravaged cunt.

Bucking your hips wildly, you tipping your head down to look at the sight below you and oh-

You gasp at how sinfully blissed out Toji looks between your thighs. Eyes glassy and hooded, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. Your slick glossing his lips so prettily - and if you angled your head just right you could catch the way it drips down his jawline. Yeah, maybe you really did like his face between your legs. 

“Always knew ya did, doll.” he echoes against your glistening lips and shit, did you say that out loud? 

It doesn’t matter, because Toji has his lips smushing against yours, such a filthy mess of spit and fingers and tongue - everywhere. Like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to taste more. “Knew your pussy missed me, even when you’re such some other bastard. She’s still so sweet.” Thrusting in and out faster past that first, feeble ring of resistance. “So messy f’me. Fuckin’ my tongue so good for s-someone that hates me.”

And you have half the mind to wonder whether it hurt - how his fingers weren’t cramping up yet, lips aching. Letting you push his face deeper into your pussy, ankles locking around his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Close. 

“Y-you talk ngh- too much.” Blood roaring in your ears, feeling his smirk against your cunt. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nah, I know you ah- love it.” Smack! Another handprint on your ass that has you stuttering and jolting on his face. “Can feel you clenching all around me because I-” Toji gives you such an infuriating wink from below,  “-eat this pussy the best.”

 And you would be mad at how cocky he was being - if you weren’t cumming all over his pretty face. 

Stars behind your eyes with each little lick of Toji’s tongue as he fucks you through your high, lapping up all your sweet sweet juices. 

“W-wait oh-” you were letting out such delirious little whines. “S’too sensitive- too- hngh-”

“No-” he grits out, voice shot. “No no no no- wan’ it. Need it.” Scrambling to pull your hips back onto his mouth. Fingers just bruising on your skin. 

He was like a man possessed, and you can only lay there and take it as Toji tips his head back to let your slick slide, down, down, down his throat. Voice shot, as he grits out, “Oh fuck, been holdin’ out on me.” Eyes unfocused and miles away as he comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing little pout. “Open that fucking mouth.” 

And you barely even realize it when you are - tongue lolling out so sinfully. The only thing jolting you back to whatever senses you have left is Toji spitting in your mouth. 

A steady, angry stream of saliva before his lips are clashing once more with yours. Purposefully letting your juices smear all over both your lips, tasting yourself and him and how desperate you were on his tongue-

“O-oh my god.” you break the kiss at the feeling of something so hard against your cunt. Delicate strings of spit snapping as you whirl down to look. Shit, when did he even take off his-

Ah, how Toji loves the breathless little whimper that leaves your lips at the sight of his too-tight boxers, the insults failing you now. Humming, “Like what ya see?” 

As if to prove his point, he tugs them down just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free. Fuck, you think you’ll never get used to it, even after so long - Toji was so fucking massive. Flushed red, soaked in beads of precum that drip down, down, down all the way to the tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

So thick and angry that your legs were clenching together just at the mere sight. And Toji notices - how could he not?

“Yeah…” he murmurs, as if continuing a conversation from before. Muscled arms pushing your thighs apart to watch how your sloppy pussy was drooling all over the couch. “She definitely missed me, look how much she’s gushing.” Pooling your juices on his fingertips, “Clean your act up, doll”

“Shut up.” you squeal, embarrassedly, giving Toji a glare that makes his balls squeeze so painfully. Smirking, “You’re not even as big as him.”

Oh. 

Well, Toji didn’t like that - not one bit, in fact, as he shoves his dripping wet fingers in your mouth - pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knows will have your pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“Then why aren’t you with him, you little bitch. Think I like you better when you’re f-fucked dumb.” he spits dangerously against your lips. Fisting his cock to lazily drag up and down your puffy folds. “Don’t you hah- agree?”

He doesn’t get to find out if you agree - and he doesn’t care, either. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to give an answer even if you wanted to. Because his swollen cock was too thick, the stretch too sinful, too dizzying as Toji splits you apart on his unforgiving cock. 

“Mmmpf- fuck! Hah-” you mewl, torn between running away from his cock and bucking down for more more more-

“More?” he laughs, “Ya ask him for more like this too?”

And oh how so very cute and pliant you were being stuffed full. He barely gives you the time to adjust because - why would he? Toji has his mouthy wife all breathless and splayed out so shamefully, desperately trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth. 

Barely even halfway in, yet he rocks into you in shallow, teasing little grinds just to fit himself inside your tight pussy. So mean. Not giving a fuck about those teary whimpers leaving your mouth.

“They ever ngh- fuck you like this?” he rasps, dropping his head to leave little bites down your tender neck. “Ever h-having you crying for his dick like ngh- this?” And despite all his confidence, Toji didn’t want to hear the answer - didn’t want to know the truth. “Such a slut.”

Your nails rake angrily down his sculpted shoulders - a warning, and it’s about the only thing you can do as Toji speeds up. Faster. Deeper. 

“Heh, what? Markin’ me up for others to hah- see?” he cooes, mockingly. And you could just cry as his grin widens, finally - finally - pulling his fingers out. “Why don’t you ngh- use your words instead?”

And you should probably breathe, probably tell him to fuck you exactly the way he wants to - to confess to him that this is all you’ve ever wanted on those lonely nights these past four months. But the both of you know that it’s more fun this way.

So instead, you smile sweetly, “F-fuck you. They do - a lot better, too.”

If only your voice hadn’t cracked so unconvincingly at the end - if only you hadn’t let out such a pornographic moan as Toji pulls your face to meet his. Kissing you over and over and his hips-

“I’m the one fucking you, doll.” he bites down on your lower lip, tugging and pushing at a senseless little rhythm - the complete opposite of his hips. “Remember that.” And that’s all that’s said before Tojis finally bottoming out all the way to the hilt. Heavy balls smacking sinfully against your ass, fat head just kissing your cervix. “It’s me. I don’t give a hah- shit if it’s been f-four mouths, it’ll always be ngh- me.”

The couch creaked in protest as Toji fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do. Like he was trying to fuck every thought of whoever came after him right out of you - along with those silly little thoughts about the divorce.

“B-but-” your eyes widen as Toji runs his mouth - as hasty and urgent as his movements now. Fingers snaking up to toy with your still-sensitive clit, not even drawing circles anymore - just messy, little patterns just to get you off. “We’re already-”

“You s-still think we’re oh- nothing but exes?” he questions, sounding as surprised as you felt. “We can’t stay ah- God, we can’t stay apart and you fuckin’ know it. So…”

You gulp, already knowing the answer to the question he was just goading you into asking. “So?” 

“So…” Toji muses, giving your swollen lips a short, chaste peck. Whispering against them, “M’gonna hah- fuck you till everyone knows you’re mine.”

A promise that Toji Fushiguro was well and fully intent on fulfilling. And you didn’t doubt that he’d have any trouble with it, in fact. 

Because he’s rutting into you so animalistically now, so so sloppy. Torn between savoring the feeling of your plushy walls squeezing him to insanity and abusing your poor cervix. Prominent veins making you feel a maddening little thump thump thump as he roams for that one-

“Ah! Hngh- Toji!”

Found it. 

And Toji had everything he needed - you, his wife, spread so sinfully and stuffed to the brim with him. Hitting your sweet spot over and over- 

“No loser’s gonna fuck you like this.” he breathes against your ear. “Have you ngh- feeling this good.”

“I- ngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” you let out, hips mindlessly bucking down in a pathetic attempt to meet his rough thrusts. “S’too- hah- oh my god. S’too good-”

“Shut up.” Oh he sounds so absolutely wrecked. Sanity crumbling away bit by bit every time he’s plunging his cock - so painfully hard - into your wet pussy. “Do you even ah- realize how sexy you look right now?” Toji throws his head back, eyes still locked on you like it killed him to look away. “Never lettin’ anyone else s-see ya like this. They’re gonna look at you and see me-”

You don’t even know what he’s babbling about anymore. Just that his achingly hard cock was making such a mess of you, pulling back only to go deeper. Massaging all the right spots as fucked you harder into the couch. 

“Me-” he gasps. “That date is gonna fuck- know,” Hips stuttering and absolutely filthy, “That cashier d-down the ngh- street that eyes you up every time is gonna know-” Angry. Desperate. So, so needy. “Your fucking lawyer- ngh- s’gonna know. They’ll s-see you and see me me me me-”

At this point you can only nod deliriously, letting out a broken little, “Hngh- yeah, wan’ that, Toji. Wan’ you so bad.”

Toji presses another chaste kiss - this time to your forehead. Whispering a quiet, “Then cum f’me, doll.”

You do - the hardest you ever think you ever have in your entire life. Thighs shaking, vision spotty, sparks of white-hot electricity going all the way from your hazy brain to where Toji was fucking you through it.

Muffling your moans with his mouth as he gives one, harsh thrust. Then spilling into your gummy walls, painting it all an obscene white with rope after rope of hot cum. 

So wet and hot - with him. All him. 

And you look so cute taking it all like the good little wife that you are, that he can’t help but press down on your lower stomach. Awe-struck at how your cunt gushes around him, coating his twitching cock as Toji fucks his seed deeper and deeper into you. 

But, hell, that wasn’t his favorite part - not by a long shot. Instead, it was probably when you pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet little nonsense in his ear about “how you missed this” and “that date wasn’t real anyway” as he fucks the two of you through your highs. Sweet. Familiar. 

“Oh, God-” he mutters into the crook of your neck, slightly calmer now. Much more clear-minded than the two of you were mere seconds before. “We broke the couch.” 

And it was true - one side was sagging much more than the other. Though you can only let out a giggle in response. Doesn’t matter, the two of you’ll pick out a new one tomorrow - he always hated this new one, anyway. “Happy anniversary, wifey.”

---

“Damn kid, that ol’ dad of yours sure is running late.” Shiu crosses and uncrosses his legs with slight nervousness. Eyeing the small, dark-haired boy playing with blocks a few feet away, “Maybe we should-”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back.” Megumi deadpans, sounding like the absolute last thing on his mind was why his dad was taking way too long for what should’ve been a half an hour errand. Shiu - on the other hand - had his mind whirling with imaginations of traffic accidents or murders or- what if the two of you killed each other- “And he’ll bring back mama too.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. The older man stared wide-eyed at a slightly-smiling Megumi. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait- no, what did you-”

“Nothing.”

Because, hey, Megumi might’ve had to go without his favorite wolf plushie for a bit - but a magician never reveals his tricks, right?

A/N. So how does it feel to be played by a kid, hm?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

Oh hi welcome back ehe

Mayybe would u like to write some fluff for graves?

"Take Me Home"

Hello dear reader, here we go with your request, i hope you'll like it. I quite enjoyed this, my brain worked so good while writing.

Philip Graves x F!Reader

Warnings: tiny bit sad, motorcycle, fluffy af

Summary: Graves shows you how much he cares

He is the most refreshing sight for your tired eyes. His wide grin and glinting eyes is heaven sent, leaning on his all black Harley, a plus helmet patiently waiting for you to out on. His favorite leather jacket hugging his perfect torso, accompanied with all black jeans and shoes. The energy radiating from him is everything you can ask for after your long shift.

Honestly, you didn't really thought about him showing up. You were so busy all day, that you barely had time to reply to his texts with a couple of rushed words. Maybe that's why he's here with open arms, and a bright face, so he can ease you after this goddamn bad day.

You grinned as soon as you saw him, waiting for you, eagerly waiting for you to cross the parking lot so he can have the hug he yearned for all day.

His eyes look you up and down as you stride towards him. you must look like someone who crawled out of hell, haven't looked in the mirror since the morning. Baby hairs has been loose for hours now, flying everywhere, makeup probably nonexistent by now, you can thank your idiot ass for that, wiping your eyes too many times to count. The only savior is your fresh outfit you put on before closing down the cafe.

"Surprise!" His cocky voice music to your ears, a half smile playing on his face, trying to contain his excitement.

As you face him, you see his freshly shaved face, tempted to bury your nose right now into the crook of his neck, already feeling the scent of shower, his body wash and cologne mixing like a potion brewed for your own desire. And you just do that, giving in to the thought, when you do, he let's out an honest laugh, the sound vibrating in your whole body, head to toe.

"Hello to you too." His voice cuts through your ear despite being merely a whisper.

"Oh my lord, you smell so good." You sigh, pushing your face further to his body, trying to get swallowed by his presence. He chuckles, finally snaking his strong arms around your frame. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." You can't see his face, but you know this sentence carries so much at once. "Thought i check on my hardworking girl." A small kiss is planted on the crown of your head, lingering a little before pulling back a little.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a tight smile, not wanting to push too much if you aren't in the mood to unpack the happenings of the day.

"M'sorry for being unreachable, i just..." You start to explain, it's important to you that he knows it's just a busy day that held you back from talking to him more.

"C'mon, don't start with that horseshit." He puts his pointing finger in your moving lips, catching you off guard. "I just want to know if i can make this day better for you." He doesn't take it well when you over explain, a bad habit you can't shake off. You know he's not angry, but your brain starts the rambling before you now it. He always wondered why you do it. He's not insecure, he's not thinking you purposefully ignore his calls of texts, he told you numerous times, but you still try to detail the reasons you didn't had time to reply.

"Ohh, you already made it million times better." Just him showing up, offering comfort and love is enough to forget about asshole costumers, liters of spilled coffee and complains about the unsalted scrambled eggs.

You look in his ocean eyes, lost in the blue of his iris, and you don't mind if he sees how smitten you are. Maybe if you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by your own feelings, you would see just how deep he is in too.

His eyes flicker down, just for a second, and without another thought he captures your lips in a sweet lazy kiss. He pushes his chest to yours, pressing his hands on your back to trap you in his embrace. He tastes like menthol, wet and warm against your soft lips, slow and gentle but demanding, always taking the lead. You never complained and you'll never will, you enjoy the way he takes and gives back even more. A sigh escapes his lips when he pulls away, ending the kiss too soon for your liking. You try to chase after his wet lips, but he makes it clear he's not willing to give in. He often gets too flustered in public, while you grow cocky, switching the roles with only a small peck on the lips.

"Ride with me?!" He hands you the extra helmet, the words ending up a mess, between a question and a statement. You take the helmet happily, letting him help to put it on, checking thoroughly that it's on you properly.

He does the same, mounting the beautiful machine with confidence, every movement of his body delicious to your eyes. You probably zoned out, when you snap out of it, he looks back at you, only his eyes visible under the helmet, waiting for you to get on the bike behind him.

"Honey?" He asks, almost confused, seeing you lost in thought. But you don't waste more time, getting on the bike with the help of his body, your hand supporting your weight on his shoulder. A giggle escapes you when you are reminded of the first time with a motorcycle. You were so afraid and awkward, made Philip laugh, teasing you with a lighthearted voice. Now it comes naturally, the process and the steps after steps, and the trust you put in him with your life.

"Where are we going?" You ask, hugging his torso, pressing yourself to his back completely. He replies with the roar of the engine, speeding out of the parking lot making you yelp in surprise. Typical Phil, communicating with actions. While he's more than capable with his words, you heard it a millions of times, but when it comes to you, he usually can't find the right ones to express himself. So he gives kisses, pulls you close, his gaze always telling what's going on behind those pretty eyes.

The ride is cold against your body, the city buildings switching to suburb areas, and finally treelines leading the way. He's focused on the road now, while the city's slower traffic let him have his hand wonder on your leg, or clutched hands over his abdomen, now it's just you who clings into him for dear life. The ride is rather short, maybe half an hour before he pulls up a road to a hiking trail, slowly going up the hill, searching for something.

When he finds a spot for parking, he's killing the engine, turning to you to get off, but your eyes are already on the landscape of the city, sparkling lights of the ascending night, the sun setting behind the buildings.

He stops you before you could walk off, his hands on your helmet.

"Maybe we should get rid of these, don't ya think?" He says, a hint of amusement is his voice. He unclips the helmet agonizingly slow, taking in your face curiously, inhaling the look on you as your eyes wonder between him and the beautiful sight behind him. At this point he might get jealous of the view, because it takes your attention away from him.

He takes off his helmet in seconds, catching your hand in his, keeping you close to his side.

You are in an awe at how the city lights are sparkle like little fires, burning under the orange light of the setting sun. Manmade and natural meeting, creating something wonderful for your eyes.

You walk over the cliff, just an unstable wooden fence protecting you falling over, old and overused benches placed around.

"Stunning. You can see every sparkle of the city from here." You say, eyes glued on the sight, but Graves's attention is on you, and only you. He saw this view too many to count, under a snow blanket, washed over with rain, shaken by thunder, melting in the summer heat. In his memory, every one of his visits seems the same, because he looked at it with his own eyes. But now, he's experiencing it through yours, and it's like seeing the seven wonders of the Earth.

It's a core memory. The woman he love dearly, but so fucking afraid of admitting it, glowing in the golden hour, a satisfied smile on her face. You are close to him, clinging to his arm, your weight heavily leaning on him, in his mind a clear sign of trust. You are standing near a cliff, hand in hand with him, only an aged broken little fence standing between you and the edge of death, and he thinks he'll never find a single soul on this planet who would trust him this much. He's not that kind of person, he can accept it now.

"So what's the occasion?" You ask, snapping him out of his zoned out state, his eyes focusing on your perched up brow, teasing smile on your lips, eager to know why he has brought you along to this spot, having a feeling it's some sort of safe space for him.

"Can't i pamper my favorite girl, hm?" He leaves a peck on your temple, turning his eyes back to the tiny lights dancing around the city.

"Favorite, huh?" You elbow him teasingly, a painful laugh erupting from his body.

"Just enjoy it, will you?"

"I am." You smile at him, his shy wandering eyes jumping between your eyes and lips. He has a guilty look on his face, giving away the whole reason of this little trip. "You leaving, aren't you?"

He's surprised, not expecting you to figure it out so soon. He wanted more time to think about the words, to how he'll be dosing the information of him travelling far away from you for god knows how long. Despite his expectations, you aren't mad. Your smile turns sad, but the love in your eyes never burns out. "Yeah hun."

"When?" Now your whole focus is on him, body turned to face him.

"Tomorrow." Oh that guilty look again. He's asking for forgiveness with one look, lips in a thin line waiting for your reaction. You just hug him, tight with every ounce of your strength put in your arms to press his body to yours.

"I'm sorry i..."

"Shhhhh." You shush him. "It's your job, i knew what i'm getting myself into. I'm just sad you didn't tell me earlier. I could have call in sick and.."

"Nah honey, that's nonsense, You have a life to live, you can't just throw away everything because of me."

"Uh yes i can? If i want to. You are a part of this life you know."

He just sighs, his forehead resting on yours, collecting himself a little, arranging his thoughts, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. You let him, you just stay there, drawing circles on his back reminding him that he's not alone in this.

"I love you." He whispers so softly you think it's just the wind playing with your mind, murmuring cruel things to you. You feel the air freeze, Phil's breath held back in anticipation. You act fast without thinking, now or never. If you heard it wrong, you still can say you said what has been on the tip of your tongue for ages now.

"I love you." He pulls back, so many things flashing in his eyes before locking his lips on yours, capturing you in a heated kiss, teeth clashing tongues battling. It's not subtle and romantic but passionate and demanding, just how he is like. Your body craves the power of his kiss, but you break away just to say one thing.

"Now take me home, Philip."

"Yes m'am"

[polaroidpascal]

A MASTERLIST !!!!!!

i’m not kidding when i say that these fics have been on my mind for weeks… WEEKS…

if you haven’t given yourself the pleasure of reading them. PLEASE DO YOURSELF THE FAVOR. they are… more than worth the time, i swear it 🧎‍♀️😵‍💫

i’m so so SO fucking excited to read “touch” and also that little extra “wait” i see down there at the bottom… i’m literally dizzy and weak at the knees just thinking about it.

if anyone needs me at all, i’ll be mentally in this universe and physically rereading both of these for the billionth time each 🧎‍♀️

(not to mention daydreaming about them all too like WHEW)

listen/watch/touch | masterpost

summary: you’ve been serving frankie and his friends at your bar for months. despite your wishing and wanting, the shy pilot doesn’t work up the nerve to ask you out before santi introduces you to his buddy, joel. swept off your feet by the sweet southerner, and charmed by pope, the boys come together to show frankie exactly what it is he’s missing.

grouping: f!reader x joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia

ratings/warnings: 18+. MDNI. no outbreak (tlou) - but based after the tf mission. softdom!joel, softdom!santi, sub!frankie, sub!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, MFM, MFMM, praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected p in v, a dash of angst, masturbation, light breath play, overstimulation, anal play, light bondage. check individual fics for more.

listen

watch

touch

extras

wait

al's handy guide to reading watch from @schnarfer <3

[reveluving]

If requests are still open I have one... Graves is having sex with his wife, and Price is watching them and he touch himself 😈 And his wife notice that Price is there but she can't say it to Graves because he makes her moan so much with his dick buried into her.

Are you TRYING TO KILL ME??? BECAUSE THANK YOU?? FAWK. 💀

Includes: wall s~mut (minors DNI!), soft (& slighly mean)!graves, mentions of nude polaroids, voyeurism & exhibitionism, licking, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v)

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Being invited for dinner by the Phillip Graves was not on their bingo card.

Not that they didn’t like him, he was a good sport, almost like a brother, as evidenced by the good-humoured banter he has with them, especially with Johnny or Alejandro. But if he didn’t always go “can’t wait to see m’wife after this shit ends” every time they work together, then they would’ve assumed he was a casual hookup kind of guy.

So to be proven wrong when he took a polaroid of you—you hugging Kai, who was sulking at the doorway as it rained—out of his pocket, along with the silicone wedding band around his finger, well, it was safe to say they were pretty surprised. 

The SFW polaroid, of course, not the other ones.

Those were for his eyes only.

The invitees included the 141, then Laswell, along with Alejandro and Rudy, who were in town for work. God bless Graves for being ahead of them with the accommodations, not far from his house.

And as their day offs rolled around, you, on the other hand, got to work.

As usual, you did an amazing job with the food, from the proteins that he’ll help you cook once the party starts, down to the endless amounts of sides to choose from—the kinds that were both filling and bursting with flavour, an instant approval from the Southern blood in him. Somewhat enough to ease your worries about your hard work not being enough.

Meeting you had them wondering how a man like Graves managed to put a ring on a sweetheart like you. But the heart eyes they would catch in his eyes every time you were close by told them everything they needed to know about just how much he cares about you.

Of course, none of you could ever forget Kai, already rushing over to you at the front door when he thought he was going to go for a walk, only to perk up even more at the sight of more people.

More people meant more pets!

But back to the two of you; seeing you work together, balancing, with Graves’ more outgoing personality and you being soft-spoken yet perceptive, especially with his friends’ plates, it was all so… homey. No worries, no strategies, just smiles and laughs and gossip. 

After dinner, just as Graves expected, the team was astounded by your backyard patio—the perks of being married to a florist. The comfortable outdoor sofa and the small yet charming garden arrangement; everything well taken care of, plus the string lights added to the comfortable aesthetic feel, especially by nightfall. 

It took little effort to keep the conversation rolling, in addition to the snacks you had prepared with the beers. 

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered before kissing his cheek hastily, much to his amusement. You took your leave, only to scurry away at the door when he winked at you, uncaring at the thought of his friends catching his displays of affection.

But seeing his girl getting along with his friends so well? Her warm smile? Her cute little attempt to hide her laugh behind her hand? Putting her heart and soul into her cooking and her hospitality in general, despite your bashfulness?

Well, it was only fair to say thank you.

Graves-style.

Not even ten minutes after you entered the house, he stood up.

“I’m gonna check on the missus for a bit,” He waved his hand at them without looking as he headed to the sliding door, “You guys hang ‘round.”

And then, Price felt the need to stand on his feet, but not before scratching behind Kai’s ears one last time before the pooch moved to Gaz for more pets.

Price excused himself, saying he needed to splash his face a bit. He’s not drunk, far from it, but it has been a while since he’s had a relaxing time like this. And like the rest of the crew, he was not willing to miss out on the coziness of your home.

But the surprises never stopped when he heard a squeak, your voice unmistakable, just before he could turn the corner, where the kitchen, then the guest bathroom were. 

He didn’t dare to take a look at first.

“Phil!” He heard you yelp, followed by a drawn-out moan that you were trying to suppress in your husband’s shoulder. 

But fuck, your voice was so tantalizing.

Price held his fist against his mouth with his eyes closed, unsure if he was trying to drown out the sounds or put more focus on it. Then, his ears perked up at the squelching in between the fast-paced pistoning of Graves’ fingers in and out of your pussy.

The captain’s morality began to chip away, going just as insane as his friend when he chuckled evilly in your ear.

“Gettin’ a lil’ shy, pretty girl?” He didn’t make it any easier for you when he licked a large stripe up your throat, “S’alright, they’re just enjoyin’ themselves back there. ‘S just you and me.” 

You were already whining, albeit muffled as you bit your bottom lip as he held you up against the wall. With the way he was slapping your entrance, watching you with a knowing smirk, you knew he wasn’t going to hold back.

And as embarrassing as it was for Price to admit, he was thankful for it. Pumping his cock in his hand, following the same rhythm as the wet slaps of your hips. Your moans were just as hypnotic, short gasps and mewls every time Graves thrust back into you deeply. His tongue licked up the thin perspiration gathering on your exposed skin. 

Price was precise with his peeking, only doing so whenever he heard your muffled voice—when he was certain you were resting your head against his shoulder or even kissing him.

Those pretty lips.

But in the midst of his pleasure, he wasn’t careful enough, cursing under his breath while holding his firm grip on the tip of his cock when he heard you gasp, no doubt catching sight of him when he hid back behind the wall.

And yet, his feet were too heavy to move. Glued in his spot.

Praying to see more of you. Hear more of you.

Literally anything more.

“P–Phil,” Your nails massaged across your husband’s scalp, a silent plea for him to listen.

But you were too cockdrunk to even think about stopping him, let alone attempt to say a single word.

“Hm?” He hummed against the crook of your neck nonchalantly, slowing down his pace, but bottoming out just as deep to hear to whine, “Want me t’stop, baby?”

No. No no no. 

He couldn’t hear you, not with your incoherent babbling, but if you thought he didn’t understand what you were trying to say, oh, you couldn’t be any more wrong.

He wasn’t blind to the lingering looks some of the men gave you, not especially the captain’s. And though he had always known Price as ‘old-fashioned’ with his manners, he’d be stupid enough to think his courteousness with you didn’t mean anything more. 

But who could blame him? You were one in a million.

And when he, too, caught sight of the familiar figure before it hid behind the wall, he knew his suspicions were correct. 

And unless you told him to stop, to use your safeword, he wouldn’t even dream about pulling out. Not until he gets to feel it clench and quiver against him. To see your cum, both yours and his, dripping, even after he’s pulled your panties back up.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” He held your chin, a mix between a coo and a sneer. He snapped his hips once again, drawing a sputter out of you, “Do you want me t’stop?”

His smirk grew when your eyes darted sideways, knowing Price was still there, watching you being unravelled and ruined, then humming in delight when you finally answered.

“No.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚