#Shadow company drabble | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

codderanged · 2 months ago

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After Party - Phillip Graves X Shadow!Reader

A/N : This came to me as I listened to Dealer by S3RL! Sorry it’s so long compared to my usual stuff (ToT ) Also sorry but this one is mega indulgent LMAO. I love myself some acts of service and intimacy via things that aren’t sex and the idea that nudity does not equal sexual tension. Enjoy!!

A/N2 : THIS BITCH WAS 15 PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS

Word Count : 4,699

TW : Drugs, alcohol, hallucinogenic consumption, description of involuntary actions, reader under the influence, good trip turned bad, anxiety, hallucinations (visual and auditory), nonsexual nudity

No one remembers when it became a tradition but at some point in Shadow Company, without Graves knowing a thing, someone decided to start throwing post-mission parties. Most Shadows referred to them simply as “after parties” and whenever an outsider asked the explanation was always that it was simply a glorified way of saying a group was going to rest and veg out together.

These parties were exclusive. At first they were small, just a small group of Shadows who started it, then they became huge. Half of a barracks hall used to party late at night when everyone was sure the commander was asleep like kids using the house while their parents are away. Anyone who wanted to attend needed an inside connection to be invited specifically or taken in as a plus one.

Hence why this particular recruit didn’t expect to be invited to the after party this time.

They were newer to the team but most definitely had proven themselves as a useful asset. A few good friends had been made and they’d established a nice circle to sit with in the mess hall during breakfast. But none of those friends struck them as the type to go to these parties. Not when they’d heard that recently they’d been getting progressively more wild. More booze, louder music, a little bit of drugs, etc..

Of course the question of whether they’d accept or not was a big one. Saying yes was dragging them into something likely bigger than they even knew, but declining would most likely prevent them from ever going in the future. It took a lot of consideration but they simply chose to go but avoid any of the heavy partying. It would set their reputation well but hopefully prevent anyone from offering them drugs thinking they were into that sort of thing.

That night they made their way to the barracks hall the party was held in. Always the one furthest from Grave’s own quarters. From the entrance they could see the party down the hall. A few people kept the doors of their rooms open to let Shadows in and out and it seemed there was already a line for the bathroom. The recruit was stopped by a taller Shadow who asked for proof of invite. In response they took out the little piece of paper their friend had scribbled on, signing that they were the one who invited the newbie. The bouncer Shadow nodded and handed the slip back to the shorter, “Enjoy.”

They scuttled along further down the hall. Upon closer inspection it seemed there was a designated room for smoking what smelled like weed, another room for snacks and drinks, and everything else was free range to hang out. Without missing a beat the recruit went into the snack room. Getting food was a good way to start a conversation, right? Bond over similar tastes and snack combos seemed like a normal conversation topic. The room was simply decorated with a couple of black lights, a singular strobe, a speaker, and a few tables with snacks and drinks laid out on them. However, what caught the Shadow’s eye through the throng of buzzing coworkers was the table with a large closed-topped pitcher labeled “Southern Style Tea”. Ignoring all the other drink options they raced towards the table, grabbed a red solo cup, and filled it.

Just before taking the first sip they noticed two tiny plates next to the large cooling vat. One was labeled “Sugar cubes” in simple messy black sharpie while the other was labeled the exact same thing except in fancier pink cursive marker. The recruit chuckled and grabbed a couple sugar cubes under the pink label and tossed them into their drink. It was a party, of course they had to pick the more whimsical option. After stirring their drink a bit the recruit took a few sips and shuffled off to the side so they could observe from the wall. Hopefully some easy opportunity to interact would come along and they would be able to hop in on a conversation.

After ten minutes that opportunity still hadn’t come. They stood there sipping their tea and even got a refill with more sugar cubes. It was likely the music but slowly their head grew fuzzy and every now and then they swore they saw something moving from the corner of their eye. Just as they went to grab a sugar cube for their third cup of tea, their Shadow friend came by, standing just a couple feet away. “Well hey there!” he greeted with a sickeningly intoxicated laugh. His eyes lazily drifted to see the sugar cubes. “Oh wow I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

The recruit raised a brow in confusion, “Well it’s just sugar, yeah? Not like I haven’t shown off my sweet tooth before.”

Their friend shook his head, “No, that’s not sugar.” The Shadow moved to stand directly next to them and pointed at the sugar cubes with black sharpie. “That’s sugar,” he pointed at the pink labeled ones, “and that’s sugar cubes soaked in LSD.”

“LSD…?” the other mumbled, staring in horror as they processed it all. The senior Shadow laughed loudly.

“Oh boy! How much did you have? You’re way in for it,” he slurred through his amusement. With a sigh he put a hand on the other’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine I’m sure. Just uh… don’t get caught.”

He nodded, popped a raw sugar cube into his mouth, and walked away with drink in hand. The stunned recruit stood there staring between the cup in their hand and the sugar cubes in the little dish. How many had they had? Six, maybe even seven. They left their cup on the table and shakily began trying to exit the room. It seemed whatever they did was in slow motion and just about everything around them was going too fast to see anything other than the motion blur. No one they shoved past seemed to care or notice, simply stumbling to the side while too busy with their conversation or dancing. The music bumped so loud that the bass sent vibrations through their very core and the lights seemed to flash in their eyes even when they weren’t looking at them. Like a kaleidoscope, shapes and color swirled around the border of their vision, obscuring the things in their peripheral vision and distracting them as they ambled out into the hall. The music seemed to echo there and the noise felt like it was going to burst their ears open. People passed by, not paying any mind, and the recruit wandered around. They didn’t realize but their mouth hung open a little and in the midst of everything they were going much slower than they felt they were. Things blurred further and everything seemed to swirl around in their vision. The buzz of everyone yelling over the music was merely a monotonous hum that settled itself into the back of their mind.

It took some time for them to find it but eventually they came across a room where everyone seemed to be smoking weed. There were a couple groups of people passing different forms of the substance around who didn’t seem to want to be as loud as everyone else outside the room. The Shadow saw this as a perfect place to settle and enjoy the sudden euphoria budding in their chest.

They stumbled over to a bean bag chair in the corner and let their weight crash down into the squishy cushion. Sprawled out across the big bean bag they stared up at the ceiling, watching the little shapes and colors drift by and feeling the bass of the party music rumble underneath them. It felt like merely a minute but it must have been an hour when they finally looked up to see half the people from the rotations gone and the other either sleeping or mumbling amongst each other. The party outside was still raging but strangely the sudden change in the room disturbed the Shadow more than they were prepared for. Something about it didn’t quite click to them as their eyes slowly dragged across the room to see if perhaps everyone was only hiding.

No one was there. No one was hidden under the blankets or in the corners of the room.

Unless they were. Unless this was some ploy to trick them and possibly humiliate them.

While the shapes and colors still blotted their vision they pulled their knees to their chest and looked around the room a little more panicked than before. Their arms held their knees close as their breathing quickened. Everything appeared to close in on them. The walls leaned in and the people in the room slowly grew bigger as if trying to intimidate the poor Shadow rocking gently back and forth in the corner. The others in the room didn’t seem to notice, though, as they all talked amongst one another and even lit up a new joint to share. The pungent smell immediately slammed the Shadow in the corner like a truck. It infiltrated their nasal cavity and made them more nauseous than ever before. Their hand covered their mouth and they did their best to not look at the group in case the mere sight of the source would trigger their gag reflex. The music from outside was shaking too hard and the words felt much too loud in their inner ears like some kind of pressurizing system. It all bumped and shook and sent relentless shivers up the Shadow’s spine.

The Shadow could not see as the group’s attention turned to the door. A couple of them stood and went to the doorway, peeking out into the hall, and the recruit finally noticed. The group’s joint had been forgotten as they all gathered by the door. What felt like only a second later they were all scrambling around the room, shoving previous smokes into plastic bags to hide the smell and spraying an ungodly amount of air freshening spray to drown it out. Of course the beachy scent only gave the recruit in the corner an intense ache in the base of their neck.

One of the stoners approached the Shadow, standing over them and saying something that sounded distorted to the point the recruit couldn’t understand. They stared, mouth open and pupils blown wide. The stoner’s words didn’t even penetrate their mind. Their heart rate went wild and the ache in their neck spread up to their temples and behind their ears. All that their mind could think of was how big this person was, standing over them and raising their voice about something. The idea that someone was upset because of them suddenly caused anxiety to prickle up into their shoulders and back. Thoughts raced through their head on double time trying to figure out what they did wrong as a frown crossed their face.

Quickly the thoughts felt all-consuming. It was like every noise in the room was nothing compared to the thrum of their own heart in their ears and foreign voices like cursed whispers filled their head in an agonizingly loud cacophony. As their hands went up to cover their ears the stoner standing above them huffed in annoyance and stomped off. The Shadow on the floor rocked back and forth, glancing around as if they could find the source of all the noise. It wasn’t the group of people still panicking as they picked up the room, was it? When they spoke to one another was it about the Shadow in the corner? Did they look pitiful or were they, arguably even worse, some kind of nuisance?

Though the swirling colors and the loud voices persisted, everything else stopped as a figure stood in the doorway. Behind him Shadows were in the hall panicking as they rushed around.

It was Commander Graves.

His brows pinched together and his fists clenched at his sides as he stood there. The group in the room stood stock still as they stared. Each of them was thinking the same thing. They all knew what Graves standing there meant.

It was all over.

No more after parties.

Some of them would likely get terminated.

Graves’s eyes scanned the room like he was assessing a room during a mission. The stoner didn’t dare make eye contact with him; their own gazes glued to the floor instead. It didn’t take long for Graves to see the Shadow huddled in the corner. They simply stared at him, brows pressed together and lips curled down in a pouty frown. The commander looked to the stoners and pointed to the high Shadow as he spoke. They couldn’t tell what he was saying, or what the stoners said in response, but Graves seemed immediately concerned as he looked at the Shadow again. The man didn’t bother even looking at the other Shadows as he barked some order. They all quickly nodded and exited the room, their collective “yup yup!” sounding loud and distorted in the high Shadow’s head.

Once the others were gone he cautiously stepped towards the other Shadow. They stared up at him like he was some enigma. Or perhaps like he wasn’t real.

“Hey now, y’hear me?” Graves asked quietly. He wasn’t one for drugs and had only chewed tobacco as a kid but he’d dealt with drugged up people before and knew a few things about helping.

The Shadow merely tilted their head to the side in response, mouth not opening. Graves sighed and crouched down in front of them in an attempt to appear small.

“Y’understand me?” He asked again. Once again the only response was the thousand yard stare and Graves’s shoulders sagged a little. He waddled forward a little, “C’mere, ‘m gonna help ya.”

Of course the warning was nothing when the Shadow was barely understanding anything happening around them nevertheless comprehending what was real or fake. Graves hesitated only a moment, worried that perhaps he was overstepping his authority and responsibility, before reaching to grab them. Their reaction was delayed and by the time they mumbled an incoherent babble of confusion Graves was already carrying them in his arms; their chin on his shoulder and their legs wrapped around his waist. His steady hands were gentle as they held the Shadow with a hand on their back and an arm under their rear. He was careful of their knees as he exited the room, awkwardly waddling sideways as to avoid a hit altogether.

Once out in the hall he looked around, barked a few orders the Shadow in his arms couldn’t quite grasp, and began heading out of the hall. The Shadow could see their coworkers picking things up and cleaning the ruined floor. The lights were on, the strobes were off, the tables and speakers were being put away. A few Shadows stared after Graves and others were helping corral drunk and high Shadows alike into their rooms.

It all disappeared as Graves rounded the corner and made his way into the dark hallways. The Shadow in his arms closed their eyes but the colors in their vision remained and the darkness gave them a strange feeling like everything was gone or perhaps not be there when their eyes opened again. Just as they’d started trying to reel their mind in, Graves interrupted their thoughts, “‘M gonna take care of ya, alright?”

The Shadow simply mumbled something quiet that resembled “yup yup” moments later. Graves couldn’t help but chuckle at the response. It was endearing for a reason he couldn’t quite pin. Something about one of his lethal little Shadows being subdued was simply too foreign to not catch his attention. Of course the reason was incredibly displeasing and all Graves could hope for was that they were going to end up alright in the end.

The commander struggled with the knob to his personal barracks for just a moment before clicking the door open, shuffling inside, and then pulling the door closed behind him. His barracks were only slightly bigger than that of the Shadows. He designed the place but he sure wasn’t selfish with the power. Each room had its own shared bathroom with another and Graves simply had his own bathroom. Which, to be fair, was in fact quite grand. A large tub, a separate shower, and plenty of counter space. The entire room was decorated fairly scarcely with the only hint of Grave’s less military side being the hats and boots hidden away in his closet. Everything was some shade of grey or black, the entire room feeling like a pit of monotonous darkness besides the singular warm beside lamp clicked on from when he had woken up.

He stared around at his room, supposedly thinking, before taking a deep breath and heading for his bathroom. Graves was careful as he sat the Shadow on the bathroom counter, standing in front of them to keep them in place with his hands resting on the counter on each side. They stared at him with that thousand yard stare look but strangely their blown out pupils made it almost look like they were enamored by Graves. The idea tickled him and the corner of his mouth quirked up just a little as he shook his head lightly. “You poor lil thing…” he sighed.

Graves observed the Shadow as their eyes lazily wandered the room. The movement was rhythmic like they were stuck in a cycle of staring at the tub behind Graves, then the carpet, then the shampoo bottles in the shower, then repeating once again. The commander frowned as he gently touched the back of his hand to their forehead to get a feel for their temperature. Of course they felt like they were overheating like some overrun generator. That wasn’t to mention the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated on their entire body, clinging to them grossly and emanating a smell like a weird mix of wet dog and sweaty child. Graves set his hand gently on their cheek, trying to get them to look at him. It took several seconds for their eyes to mosey on to meet his own.

“Hey, can y’ talk to me?” he asked softly. There was no telling what they took or how much. From the symptoms it seemed like some kind of depressant and by the way they seemed barely aware of their surroundings they took quite a bit of it.

The Shadow hummed so quiet it was nearly inaudible, “Yup yup…” Graves sighed with a hint of relief. At least they were somewhat still there. Considering the ‘yup yup’ they could probably recognize him.

“Yer in a tough spot, soldier,” Graves explained. His thumbs gently rubbed their cheek bone back and forth before he noticed the unconscious movement moments later and moved his hand to the counter. “I’m gonna help you out, alright? That okay with you?”

Silent moments passed but Graves remained patient as he waited for an answer. Even as their lips parted but nothing came out he still stood there, head slightly tilted to the side, waiting for a response. The Shadow’s eyes caught the bright bathroom light and they groaned as they shoved their face down into Grave’s shoulder to hide from it, and slurred, “Yessir… yup yup…”

Graves let out a little huff from his nose as his arms wrapped around them protectively. “I gotcha soldier.” His chin settled onto their shoulder and he mumbled quietly so as to not hurt their head, “‘M gonna take care of ya.”

He reluctantly let them go, pausing to be sure that they could sit up on their own, before heading for the large tub and beginning to run the water and dumping in some body wash just for the suds that would arise. He kept his hand under the tap just to be sure it wasn’t too hot or cold then shook it dry as he walked back over to the Shadow. “Gonna clean y’ up so you can get some good rest, alright?”

The Shadow, seeming to have come to their senses just a little, grumbled in acknowledgement. Graves nodded, more to himself than to the Shadow, and set his hands on their hips. He paused as his face heated up from the thought of what he was doing. Graves immediately slapped himself though, trying to steel his mind against it all. This wasn’t for his personal enjoyment. This was to take care of them. He took a deep breath and kept his eyes up on the ceiling as he assisted the Shadow with removing their clothes. Once he had their things folded and set to the side to be washed later he helped them down from the counter and held them up as they walked to the bath. Initially the Shadow grumbled, not wanting to leave their spot on the counter since the cold marble had finally grown warm, but as they felt the steam arising from the bath they quickly stopped protesting and slipped inside eagerly, head and shoulders just above the water.

Once sure the Shadow was settled Graves made quick work of changing into some random shorts in his closet so he wouldn’t get his pants wet. He sat on the edge of the rub, put his legs in the water on either side of the recruit, and let their head rest on his thighs. The Shadow seemed content simply sitting there soaking with a little smile on their face. Graves had a smile of his own as he reached down and cupped some water in his hands to pour over their head. He was careful to put a hand on their brow to prevent water in their eyes. Then he went for his bottle of shampoo and began to lather it in his hands.

The Shadow leaned into his touch as he carefully scrubbed their scalp then proceeded to rinse the product out. His fingers on their scalp seemed to scratch some itch deep in their brain. Fresh-cut nails digging in to really get at the roots for a wash that felt borderline purifying. Graves carded through every section and got each and every little knot and tangle out. The room spelled like green apple as he continued on, the shampoo’s scent filling just about every cavity in the Shadow’s senses. Afterwards Graves gently scrubbed their body down, once again looking anywhere he could that wasn’t their body. His eyes kept away, instead taking great note of the grout between the floor tiles or the way the paint was textured on the ceiling. Anything to try and give the Shadow some semblance of privacy as he helped them. Oddly enough Graves didn’t struggle to navigate them despite not being able to see where his hands were. He pretended in his head that it was because it was simply his understanding of anatomy. Knowing where to strike a foe meant you had to know where everything else was as well. The commander knew, though, in the back of his head, that it was because he’d see this Shadow before. He’d found himself enraptured by their performance and physique. Their uniform always left much to the imagination but walking around base, with mere training gear on, he’d seen more of them and loved every bit. Graves had dreams of seeing this body, kissing every inch in pure reverence, and running his hands through their hair sweetly, just to make them feel loved.

The thought turned a little sour as Graves remembered why exactly he was here touching and seeing them. This was not quite the sweet union he’d imagined in his head.

Graves heaved a heavy sigh as he shook his head. The Shadow below him was smiling wide with their head resting back onto his lap. Their eyes wandered around the ceiling and occasionally his face but had no true path. The nearly pitiful sight made all of Grave’s annoyance wash away as he cupped their cheek and smiled softly down at them.

“Gonna get out now, alright? Get all warm n’ head to bed,” he whispered quietly down to them. They finally fixed their eyes on his and nodded with a mumble of approval.

At that Graves carefully stood himself up and with one foot in the tub and another he assisted the Shadow out of the water. They shivered and grumbled uncomfortably as the cool air hit their wet skin, but Graves was quick to grab a towel and wrap them up. He held them close as they snuggled into the fabric and in turn pressed their face to his chest. Even as water dripped from their hair and soaked his shirt he didn’t protest. When they were dry except for their still dripping hair Graves sat them down on the counter, excusing himself for just a moment, before heading for his closet to grab something comfortable for both of them to sleep in. He emerged from his walk-in closet moments later with a simple hoodie and shorts with a drawstring for the Shadow and some sweats and a tee for himself. Graves was sure the clothes would probably be too big for the Shadow but he didn’t mind the idea of them cuddled up in the too-big clothes contentedly sleeping. A pang went through his chest at the thought so sweet and he went a little faster as he helped them dry their hair and the rest of their body before awkwardly assisting them in getting the fresh clothes on then getting changed himself.

Though the process took a while, when it was finally complete Graves was more than happy with the result he saw before him. His cute little Shadow sitting on the counter with their legs on either side of his waist. The commander’s hoodie was most definitely oversized for them but they seemed to enjoy it, flapping the extra length of the sleeves around like a child looking for mental stimulation. Graves chuckled and couldn’t bother holding down his smile, “Y’ sure don’t seem tired, now do ya? Still gotta rest, sug- soldier.”

Just like before the Shadow grumbled and nodded, “Yup yup..”

“C’mon then, careful now,” Graves coaxed as he backed away to let them get down from the counter. With shaky legs like a newborn deer they stepped down. Graves took their hand and carefully guided them from the bathroom to the main room of his dorm. He turned the bathroom light off behind him as he went along.

“Yer doin’ great. Just a lil’ further now,” he praised in a low hum. The moment they reached his bed the Shadow practically collapsed down into the sheets. Graves panicked for a moment before seeing them wiggle their way into the blankets and tuck their face into the pillow. He was about to slip in alongside them when he paused. Hypothetically, waking up to your commander cuddled up next to you would be quite disturbing. Especially if you had, hypothetically, not remembered anything of the night prior. Instead of getting in bed with them Graves leaned down to tuck them in and, indulgently, leave a little peck to their forehead, before rummaging around under his bed until he found some extra blankets and pillows. He set himself up a pallet on the floor next to the bed.

Just in case they were unable to sleep Graves stayed up for about an hour more. He was sitting up next to the edge of the mattress with his head propped up on his palm. His blue eyes searched their content face the entire time, taking note of every little twitch of their brow or slight movement in their lips. Anything that might mean they were stirring awake made his shoulders tense in anticipation, ready to jump in and help them settle back to sleep.

They never once stirred but did once mumble something Graves could not make out. He eventually passed out in his silent vigil, but seeing their face as he closed his eyes was all he needed to sleep soundly through just like his Shadow did.

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n1ght0f-nyx · 4 months ago

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Girl headcanons for Graves was so sweet 😭 you headcanon him as a rather romantic man? (i mean i suppose you think he has the potential if he wants to be) a giver to the partner he wants to be a giver to?.. a munch like you wrote earlier?

Oh and if it's okay to ask, what's your sun sign?

please i love this sm, also my sun sign is aries and moon in Sagittarius! i dont mind personal questions lol warnings/tags- reader is a military tailor, smut, both first times, gentle, readers kinda mean, philip is romantic obvi word count- 1598 words

Philip smiled under his breath while you measured him for his new uniforms size. You were extremely close, which made the man's heart beat faster. As it always did when he came here.

Even though he was much bigger than you, your focused gaze made him feel like he was next to a predator. Your hands slowly glided over his body, but nothing went beyond the touch needed to measure his shoulders, his hips, his height….

In measuring his chest, he had the opportunity to have a closer look at you. He saw the slight imperfections on your face. Normally he wouldn't have noticed them through the powder, but now? He was able to count your freckles.

The vanilla scent reached his nostrils as he leaned slightly towards you. Of course, you knew what was on Philip's mind. Otherwise, he wouldn't come to your establishment so often. It was an adjustment, a seam that had been accidentally torn…. Now the excuse was an upcoming tour which could last weeks.

“Perhaps you could invite yourself for tea, Miss l/n?” He asked as you scribbled the measurements into your notebook. “I can also offer you a cigarette.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr Graves. I'll be happy to take it,” you replied, packing your things into your bag. Philip, as usual, signed in so that he would be your last client.

The cigarette and tea quickly changed to champagne and whisky. The promises of alcohol in your blood made your courage rise. As a result, Philip shed some of his self-control, coming dangerously close to you.

You were barely centimetres apart when you stopped the man. You barely put your hand on his chest, but it was enough. He gazed lustfully at your lips, at your eyes, all over you, until finally it was you who reduced the distance between you to nothing.

The kiss was not one of the sexual ones, it was rather sensual. You interrupted it just as quickly; after all, you were in a public place.

Philip murmured displeased, to which you smiled gently. He was so polite and obedient. More than one man should learn that.

“Not here, Mr Graves,” you whispered, and a broad smile appeared on his face, revealing all his teeth.

“Just Philip, y/n.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The man's bedroom was a clear indication of his wealth. The big bed, the satin bedding, the beautiful lamps…. However, there was no time to look at it all — the desire between you was stronger.

An inaccurate kiss, bouncing against the wall, and finally ending up on the bed. Still in each other's embrace, you began to undress each other. When you stopped kissing once more, a heavy breath escaped your lips, and you were still joined by a thin trickle of saliva instead of your lips.

You sat on Philip's hips as he lay on the bed, resting on his forearms.

“You're beautiful,” he said, still catching his breath.

You leaned over him, still kissing. You ran your hands over his stomach, across his chest and up to his shoulders. Barely had your hands made contact with his heated flesh, an indefinable sound escaped from the brunet's throat.

Lost in your mouth and your touch, he didn't notice when his hands were over his head. With one hand you held his wrists, with the other you reached into your hair and untangled the ribbon.

From under his half-closed eyelids, Philip saw as if through a haze as you moved away from him and did something to the frame of his bed. Your breasts appeared right in front of his face, and he had already stopped thinking. Now he just wanted to touch them.

He moved one hand, and only then did some of his sanity return. He looked up to where his wrists were tied with some sort of cloth. If he had wanted to, he would have easily torn it. But curiosity about what you were planning to do with it won out.

You spread yourself more comfortably on Philip's hips, ignoring his boxers as well as his swollen cock.

“So handsome,” you whispered, stroking his face. The brunet only murmured approvingly, unable to get a word out. “Tell me, how many ladies have you made love to?”

You didn't give Graves time to answer, its not like he had one, you were his first. You started kissing his neck, biting his skin in some places. Philip gritted his teeth, just to make sure no embarrassing sound came out of him. After all, he should behave manly. So why did you satisfy him so far and not the other way around?

“Can I touch you?” he finally asked, and you shook your head. Only now did he notice that you had let your hair down. Surely he couldn't ruin the ribbon you tied his hands with — he didn't want to make you upset. Neither did he want anyone to see the state you would be coming home in.

Your kisses went lower and lower. Shoulders, chest, stomach…. Your lips formed a wet trail until they stopped at the elastic of his boxers. Philip held his breath as your fingers caught his underwear, and you began to slowly pull it off.

With your lips you traced another trail, this time along his lower abdomen, hips, and thighs. You effectively avoided the place where Philip wanted you most, waiting for him to break.

“y/n...” he said at last, trying to mask the tremor in his voice. “May I have it, please?”

You smiled victoriously, finally bringing your face close to his member. Philip could no longer hold back any further when he felt your warm breath on the sensitive spot, and he moaned low. Pre-ejaculate began to slowly flow out of his penis, letting you know he was close.

You placed a gentle kiss on the head of his penis, and felt Philip's muscles tense under your fingers.

“Oh fuck…” he choked out, clenching his fists. With the last of his self-control, he stopped himself from tearing the ribbon. “I'm close…”

You pressed the base of his penis with your hand, with which you blocked Philip's ability to orgasm. A silent scream escaped from the man's throat, which you watched with great satisfaction.

“You look very beautiful now,” you muttered, lifting yourself up.

You rested your hands on the brunet's chest and sat perched on his crotch. You began to move your hips gently, rubbing against his hypersensitive appendage.

“I've got a condom in my pocket...” said Philip through a tightened throat.

“Are you sure it's going to be useful?” you asked mischievously, brushing your hair away from your face.

You felt once again that the man was close. You stopped all movement and raised yourself gently. You watched as tiny tears gathered in Philip's eyes at another loss of pleasure.

Graves had to admit, it was exhilarating. It may have hurt a little, but being under your control was strangely pleasurable. Although... A strangely unpleasant thought popped into his head. Where was his masculinity, for which he was praised? He should be the one making you feel good, he should be in control.... After all, you were a woman.

The next time you took away his ability to orgasm, Philip was no longer able to think. All the worries, complexes, and problems were gone. Now only one thing was on his mind. The need for pleasure.

Finally, the first small tear ran down his cheek. You immediately kissed him where it had stopped. You brushed his wet hair off his forehead and stroked his face.

“You look beautiful, Philip. And don't worry, now you'll get what you want.”

You got up slowly and climbed off the bed. You picked up your handbag from the floor where, apart from your sewing supplies, there were condoms packed.

You took them out and put them on the pillow next to Graves. You pulled one out and slowly put it on his already hard, red penis.

You carefully sat back on the man's hips, this time putting his member inside you. As soon as the warmth surrounded his penis, Philip groaned loudly. He was no longer able to hold back his voice as you began to move.

By previously holding him back from orgasm, this time he came very quickly. He felt a great relief when the cum collected in his testicles finally left them, making him cry out loud. He was so beautiful...

You stepped off his penis, taking your pleasure away, and removed the condom from him.

“A... And you?” he asked then, looking at you with misty eyes.

“Don't worry about me,” was all you replied, taking another condom in your hands.

This time, again moving at a steady pace on Philip's penis, you also began to rub your clit with your fingers. A wave of pleasure flooded you, making you clench your thighs together, stopping yourself.

From the euphoria that swept over your body, your vagina clamped down on Philip's member, causing him to have a second orgasm.

You were breathing heavily, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. The man's chest, on which you were resting, floated up and down unevenly.

“y/n...” he wheezed out, trying to take his arms from above his head so that he could embrace you. The bindings held tight, however, and he had lost all strength through the few rounds you had served him. “y/n, that's enough... I can't handle it any more...”

Maybe if he begged hard enough, he could be pardoned from the tour

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scaredyspooks · 7 months ago

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Advent Calendar Drabbles - Day 4 - Phillip Graves.

Office Secret Santas have never been Phil’s thing. He knows and loves all his Shadows (yup-yup!) but buying gifts for them? He doesn’t know what they want, he doesn’t know what they already have, so he’s utterly clueless and dreading it.

Until he pulls your name from the hat.

You are the chattiest little thing he’s ever met, if you were to literally talk his ear off, he’s pretty sure you’d just staple it back on and keep going. So he knows everything about your life - whether willingly or not. The moment he pulled your name, he knew what he was getting you, and he got that fuzzy little giddy feeling in his chest that’s pretty rare these days.

He got that feeling again when he actually bought the gift.

And again while he was wrapping it, hand-writing a note saying “Love from Santa”. He promptly scrunched that one up and wrote a new one saying “From Santa” instead, just in case.

The most he felt that feeling though, was watching you open your gift from his office, the way your eyes lit up and your nose did that little scrunch as you giggled and showed it off to the other Shadows.

And the final time he got that feeling, the moment that gave him the confidence to actually go to your desk, was when he looked down at his own Secret Santa and saw written, in your pretty cursive, “Lots of love from your Secret Santa x”.

#call of duty #modern warfare #graves #phil graves #phillip graves #graves x reader #phil graves x reader #phillip graves x reader #shadow company #graves cod #christmas #xmas #xmas drabbles

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cheeseatlantic · 6 months ago

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hiii!! It’s me again>:3 I have a question, may you pls adopt me? You seem hella cool and I’d like to be able to be like “yeah that’s my parent, disrespect them and ima throw hands”.

anyway!! Can you pls do graves comforting you after you being scared of a thunderstorm?

yes my child… your now my child ty!! collecting u like a pokemon >;) and yeah, whoever disrespects you gonna have to deal with me!! and nice request, i like it… picasso… gonna make it platonic because, your my kid now!! (your father is graves, baby daddy frfr) and note is reader is a young kiddo!!

Thunderstorms, you hated them since you were born basically. Scared the absolute shit out of you, and fireworks. Basically anything loud, and Graves always remembered that whenever a thunderstorm happened. There was a little drill to follow.

You wrapped your blanket tightly around your shoulders as you trembled and heard thunder clap outside, you whimpered in fear, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore it. Dad had already gone to sleep, right?

But you needed to be brave, follow the drill. But what was it? Dad wrote it down for you, and left the paper somewhere in your room. You took a breath like one of the Shadows taught you and threw your legs off your bed as you turned the nightlight on and walked over to your desk, holding the blanket over you with one hand as the other found the paper and you read it.

Y/N’s storm drill!

1. Take a breath

2. Drink a little water

3. Remember your very brave, and very very strong

4. Sing a little song

5. Go find Dad

You nodded to yourself and murmured to yourself. “I got this, go find Daddy.” Completely ignoring the other steps as you put the paper down on your desk and waddled over to your door, opened it and ran down the hall to Graves’ room. You opened the door and the room was dark and sure enough,he was asleep.

You walked over to the bed and whispered. “Daddy?” As another thunderbolt rumbled outside and you yelped and Graves’ eyes shot open and he asked. “Baby, what are you doing up?” As he reached a hand out to stroke your hair comfortingly.

You felt a lump form in your throat as tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you tried to bite them back, to be brave. “Daddy, I’m scared.” And his eyes instantly softened as he reached over and scooped you up, placing you on his lap as he sat up. “Oh, honey… You poor thing, it’s okay. Your daddy’s here.” He murmured, holding you to his chest as your tears soaked his shirt and he stroked your hair with one hand and the other held you close.

Thunder boomed outside as you cried, Graves covered your ears as he started humming a lullaby to try and soothe your frayed nerves. “Your okay, I promise. Think about… What we’re gonna eat tomorrow? Want a ribeye?” He asked, you adored ribeyes. It was the first solid food you tried, he fed you expensive food so when you were older your standards would be high, because only the best for his kiddo.

You nodded as he chuckled and said. “Okay, got it. Your doing so well.” As the thunder outside slowly stopped and you stopped crying, feeling tired. “Daddy… I’m sleepy.” Your murmured. “Rest up, sugar. I got you, always.” He replied as he hummed another lullaby and your eyelids started to feel heavy and started drooping until you fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Everything would always be okay, aslong as Daddy was there.

ok this is actually so flipping cute 😔

#call of duty #cod fluff #cod modern warfare #phillip graves #graves x reader #graves call of duty #shadow company #cod drabble #platonic #cheeseatlantic #kid reader #thunderstorm #cod comfort

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tw1nkee28 · 3 months ago

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Hey guys, bothering you again with my mindless rambles

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Qt5DzjzyEJo&si=VZp7TOBfLJ71eIGh

I just think this song is very Moribund coded....

ALSO, I think he feels really guilty for loving Pixel,,, just,,,, just a thought :3 @mr-1-2-3-4

Like, he knows what he is, what he's done, and why he's done it. And he doesn't think he deserves to have someone like Pixel care for him, and he feels that Pixel doesn't deserve to have to deal with the burden he sees himself as. So he tries to be as low maintenance as possible, take care of Pixel in ways he's never tried taking care of others before. He's learning, slowly, to care and love. Something he previously didn't know how, nor care enough about, to do.

(Cough cough, reference song... https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Ld6mj5IsnQQ&si=faC9RNeNZbc559m8)

In his mind, Pixel is his entire world and more, and someone who deserves to have more than he can give, someone who can be Pixel's whole world with ease. He believes Pixel is perfect in every way, puts them on a pedestal, almost deity-like, and that he is a sinner, flawed horribly in comparison.

He stays silent about it, but sometimes when his mind gets too quiet, it's hard not to think about. Like a constant buzzing in his ear that he shouldn't be contaminating their holiness with his love.

(Another... :3 https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=zMKUpMd04QI&si=8JWsPrpCK8ZBIG-o)

But I'm just thinking, shrug

#finally back from convention weekend :33 #time to draw and drabble into oblivion #shadow company #shadow company oc #cod oc #shadow 6-8 ♣️ (moribund)#yapping #rambles #ramblings #pixel (cod oc)#tweaks out

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flashbang-througthe-door · 2 years ago

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I won't crawl on my knees for you

“I won't do this Graves, I won't go after them they saved my life„ Rattlesnake's eyes take in how many of his own friends started to surround him. Phillip raises his gun “Don't be like this Snake, be on the right side this time...be with us or...„ “You'll shoot me?...I won't take over the HQ, I will not do this„

I won't believe the lies that hide the truth

“Snake it's our orders, we have to follow them„ Phillip wasn't fully begging as he was trying to convince himself that this was right. “Look at what they've done to you„ Rattlesnake gives a small pity laugh to the man who used to have his heart... “Face it Phillip...you are a lap dog now„

I won't sweat one more drop for you

Rattlesnake's fingers twitched as he waited for a response, his breathing was nice and even as he memorized the face of every single soldier in front of him. “I am no man's lap dog„ Phillip growls as his grip tightens on his gun. Rattlesnake's hands slowly raised above his head “You sure, Philly„

'Cause we are the rust upon your gears

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back„ Phillip's gun was aimed dead center of Rattlesnake's head. Rattlesnake was slow in his movements and once his back was facing Phillip he got a little smirk on his face. “You want to read my rights pretty boy?„

We are the insect in your ears

It all happened so fast Phillip was on the ground holding his nose as bullets were being shot, quickly but not accurately. Rattlesnake was half way across the field before a bullet pierced his right hand. Taking a sharp breath Rattlesnake hops a fence and continues to his freedom...he knew he needed to warn Alejandro...but how....

We crawl all over you

#one off ocs #codename: rattlesnake #oc: rattlesnake #shadow company #phillip graves #graves #mw oc #mwii #rattlesnake x graves #song fic #tw guns #tw blood #drabble #just a short little thing

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thecoochiefairy · 2 months ago

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thugga. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.3K word count. blackfem!reader, drabble, boyfriend! onyankapon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon, dominant!onyankapon, exhibitionism, couch sex , black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk/aggressive dirty talk, condomless sex, creaming, slapping ass/face, kissing, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ day 484848489 of liyah’s faithful celibacy pact meaning she’s having the most nasty, egregious thoughts. come back to enjoy my black man fantasies. the links inspired this fic ofc, just wanted to put something out while working on an upcoming full fic. aight, bye.

link. link.

YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS A DEMON. And the worst part about it? He didn’t even have to try.

Those eyes—he gave them to you at the worst times, and this was truly bad timing. Your elbow leans against the pink of your desktop, slender eyes drooping against the screen of your alabaster IMAC. You’d been on a work call for the past hour, and you were already feeling irritable, tired—over it. The only upside was being allowed to have your camera off.

Your fingers rake through the dark ocean of your curls, a huff blowing through your nose as you unmute your mic to respond to your boss. But before you could—Onyankopon entered the kitchen.

You knew him, loved him, seen him enough times to know what he looked like with your eyes closed. You just couldn’t understand why he looked so good right now. He’d currently been in and out of the living room as he was attempting to fix the sink, on the phone with one of his friends to pass the time. But he made something so simple look so—sexy. His deep voice carries within the ceiling as he sends a voice memo, his big tatted frame turning a deep caramel beneath the lights, grey sweats showing off the print of his bulge. Your eyes watch his full lips move, the shadow of his grill melting in gold, mouth surrounded by the facial hair on his sharp jaw as forest green gloves cover his palms.

You were supposed to be focused on the main speaker of the call, watching the mouse move along the shared PowerPoint for new renovations within your company—but your eyes can’t help but peer over your desktop, watching him work.

He’d move to the left, his toned body contorted in a way that made your tongue dry, your thighs involuntarily squeezing into each other. His back flexed taut as he reached under the cabinets, heavy hands twisting the pipes below, continuously talking within his phone atop of the counter.

It’s when he begins pacing throughout the kitchen, tool box now in his hand and his phone pressed against the shell of his ear, that he catches a glance of you—his eyes locking onto yours. Despite his neutral expression, it’s clear that he’s caught you, and your slender eyes glazing over his body tells him everything going on in your head. He knew you.

You almost forgot your boss had asked you something.

Your voice is soft as you mindlessly reply to the computer, “Uh—no questions, at this moment. Sorry.”

Your boyfriend's gaze is now on your figure, taking in the soft slope of your waist, up to the thick swell of your thighs and hips beneath your loose shorts. He admired you just as much as you did him, if not more.

“Come here.”

That’s all you hear.

You quickly mute the microphone, your voice soft as you reply, “Ony—not now, baby.”

An eyebrow raises at your words. Head now tilted to the side, his dark eyes roam your figure as you sit at the desk, taking in his jersey you wear, leering at the way he knows your body becomes tense underneath.

“You tellin’ me no?”

There’a a pause, and your silence speaks for itself. There it is—his eyes narrow, his jaw clenches, and that glare comes upon his expression.

You tried. You really did. But listening might’ve been better than telling him no. The sound of the computer chair creaks beneath you, the tips of your toes just barely reaching the floor as your fingers clamp along the ink branded onto his bicep—your face screws into a pout, your whimpers gaining strength with each bounce on his dick. He’s watching, keeping you at one angle from the way he clamps his palm against the back of your neck, helping you come down.

Your boyfriend was strong, weighted in the right places. Every movement is calculated and precise—a machine. He knew your body better than you did yourself, knew what you wanted even if you didn’t say it—just by the way he’s got you pinned down, legs spread around his lap, one heavy palm against the side of your throat—he’s got ownership of you in moments just like this, when you’re at his hands—his mercy.

Your brain registers the voices along the zoom call, but your sense is gone in the moment. His hand squeezes at the nape of your hair, your palms finding a resting space on his shoulders as you drop your hips down, a huffing whine passing your lips as your thighs ache in discomfort.

His eyes are glued to your face, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed, the way your eyes roll and thighs tremble around him like a vice— he’s proud about it. Onyankopon’s free hand comes under your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he holds you. Plop, plop, plop—you’re light to him, almost effortless, and he moves you with ease, always.

You’re his toy for the time being.

The sound your skin makes, clapping against his in a wet applause from the cream that mixes along his tip, has you burying your face within his neck as you quietly mewl, “U—Ughn…”

It’s embarrassing with the way he can have you whining. There’s a low chuckle from him, the grip on your hip tightening as you can feel his breath against your ear. Your boyfriend's eyes are all over you, taking in the way you cling to him—the way he’s got you shaking in his lap.

“You’ gettin’ tight, Mama.”

He murmurs to you, “Gon’ head and put your mouth by my ear.”

And you do—your lips drag along the brown of his skin, finding his lobe as one of your hands rubs along his facial hair. Your eyes roll back again as you whimper, “Oohshit,” your gasp sucking between your lips as you keep your body moving.

His hand comes down, a resounding smacking sound as it connects with the flesh of your ass— it’s loud enough that in that moment, you worry that they can hear it through your microphone.

“Don’t get loud,” he grunts, “You bein’ too good for allat.”

His words were always worse than the pleasure he gave you. It ignited something within you, something filthy, something horny. Something that could have you forgetting you were on a work call.

They make you bring your head up, pressing your hands along each side of his face, rubbing continuously at his ears—your skin resounds a loud secretion against his abdomen as you bounce yourself with more effort, eyes rolling as you rotate your hips, “Ohmyg-Ony.”

His face contorts into a snarl, and you can see the gold chains around his neck shift in a way that leaves you mesmerized.

He’s gripping your flesh like a vice, fingers sinking into the fat of your ass, pulling you down as he takes your own mouth, biting, biting, sucking on your bottom lip while he thrashes you onto his tip—your folds kiss at his balls every millisecond, your clit throbbing in return.

“Youn’ even care, you’ goin’ crazy on this dick—my good lil’ bitch.”

He’s holding you by your throat now, squeezing as he knows you’re unable to stop moaning. Your own palm comes over your mouth, trying to muffle the whimpers and cries that spill through as you can still hear the voices from the other side of that computer, though faintly.

“Yeah,” he spanks you in reward, “That’s a good look on you, pretty girl. You listenin’.”

“I love this dick, baby.”

You gasp into his ear, “I love it sooomuch…”

His grip on your neck tightens, and his eyes are on you now—completely.

“That’s what I wanna hear. You love this big ass dick.”

You’re so horny. Your hands reach for the back of the chair to hold onto, placing your feet onto the sides of Onyankopon as you rock yourself down, eyes peering behind your shoulder to watch the way your ass claps on the way down. You groan, the sight making you go harder by the second.

Your boyfriend's eyes are focused on the way he splits you open, his gaze hungry, like a predator looking at his prey. His palm comes up, hand connecting to your face as he grunts, “Keep bouncin’ on my shit,” the sound loud and firm enough that the voices stop completely from the computer.

“Everything okay over there?”

It takes everything in you to keep quiet, your hand clamping over your mouth as Onyankopon responds, “Everything’s cool. She ran to the bathroom.”

“Alright…we’ll get back to it then.”

The other voices faded back into conversation, and the attention was now back to you, your boyfriend's gaze locked on your form.

“Keep fuckin’ me like that.”

The words are hushed, inaudible compared to the conversation taking place in your headset. He’s not being gentle with you, he never was, and he didn’t plan to start now. He’s just lifting and dropping you on his lap.

“Feels good, huh?” You can see the look on his face, “Soun’ like you wantin’ it.”

“Feelsgood,” you can only cry back in a whisper, you brain firing off babbles as you drag out, “Mmph-shit-ah—,” clamping your mouth shut as you watch yourself—you won’t stop, your legs shake each time the back of your thighs meet with the front of his.

His own thighs are tense to the touch, Onyankopon’s face flushed the same tone as your cheeks, his jaw clenched.

“Oh—goddamn, look at you,” he’s watching you, too, the way your body slides against him, and the way his grip has your skin painted red.

He’s groaning, and you can feel the way he thrusts up into you, his hand reaching up to your face, his thumb sliding across the side of your lips.

“You bein’ good as fuck right now. Just takin’ this muhfuckin’ dick—I’ll kill a nigga behind this pussy.”

He’s whispering the words into the shell of your ear now, each breath tickling the hairs along your skin. His face is close, so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating off of him— you could taste it.

You whimper so softly to him, “Keep sayin’ that,” bouncing, bouncing away.

He grunts, “You hearin’ me, huh? I’ll kill a nigga bout’ this shit.”

He’s saying it to you like a secret, his hand coming up to your chin, tilting your face towards him.

You frown, tears welling in your eyes as you warm, “Baby—I’m…” you moan to him, pressing your face back into his throat as your entire body vibrates.

“You finna’ cum, I know. Stay here.”

Onyankopon’s words are simple, but the command in them is clear. His arms wrap around you, nose pressed into your hair as he huffs, “Stay. Don’t be movin’.”

It’s easy for him in this position, the way that his hips grind up into you, leaving you unable to move at all. Both hands are wrapped around your throat, keeping you in place as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Your body shudders, throat vibrating a moan. Onyankopon’s grip is as strong as it’s always been, his fingers tight enough on you that it’s beginning to make your skin tingle.

“You close.”

He’s not asking a question, but telling you so. He can see that you’re on the edge, the way the tears are welling in your eyes, how your thighs are trembling against his.

You softly sob, voice whiny as tears shudder your vision, “Gimme’ a kiss, Ony.”

“C’mere then. Like you ’suppose to.”

He pulls you closer, his lips connecting with yours in a slow, deep kiss. It’s enough to bring another shudder through your body, your own hands grasping at his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself.

“You got it baby— I know this pussy all for me—Lemme’ feel that shit.”

He’s continuously murmuring against your skin, his hand running down the back of your neck, “Come on now, Mama. You’ right there, I know you’ is.”

His lips brush over your ear, “Let it out. I’ll listen.”

You gasp, one so deep within your chest you nearly lose your breath. Your toes curl as your body vibrates in violent waves, knocking your face within his as you moan out your sobs, the sound dragging with each syllable of it. Your arms cradle his upper body, shaking so bad that holding onto him keeps you from becoming faint.

Everything is hazy for a few moments. He holds you against him, arms wrapped tight around you as his lips brush over the side of your face. You’re drenching his tip, thighs soaked from the arousal that slicks along his dick, so wet that you can barely feel him anymore.

His hands keep you from trembling as he whispers against your skin, “You makin’ a mess all over me, Mama. Pretty ass mess.”

He’s watching you, taking in the way your face contorts, how your body spasms against him—the way all your words are reduced to nothing but soft sobs and whimpers.

You exhale as you feel your body coming down, keeping yourself held onto him regardless. Your breathing is softer, and your face flushes, a small—embarrassed groan pushing from your lips as you immediately bury your face within his throat.

He can’t help the low chuckle that escapes him, a heavy hand running over the back of your hair, fingers brushing through the tresses of it.

“You gon’ be all shy now?”

“Ony,” you pressed your face under his jaw, grunting as you could feel the vibration of his chuckle, “What if they heard me?”

“Then they heard you. Not my fault you’ loud.”

“Onyankopon.”

“You was’ on some typa’ time, girl.”

“Oh my god. I’m logging off.”

You quickly turn towards your computer, clicking on the exit button of the meeting. You slip off of his lap, “Consider yourself a stranger. I don’t know you! Goodbye!”

You’re already walking towards the bathroom, ignoring his voice as he smirks, “Ooh, girl—Look at allat’ ass—I’m still feelin’ X—Rated! Come back!”

“No!”

Onyankopon chuckles, “Aight. Love you too, then.”

#onyankopon x you #ony smut #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyakapon #onyankapon #aot oneshots #attack on titan smut #anime oneshot #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon fluff #onyankopon x black reader smut #ony x black reader #o

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intromortal · 3 months ago

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✷ OUT OF OFFICE ⸻ P.JS

your coworkers can't begin to imagine what goes on between you and Jongseong when no one's watching.

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ workplace relations ⋆ jealousy ⋆ brat tamer jay ⋆ toxicity if you squint (it's okay this is freak central we enjoy it) ⋆ alcohol consumption ⋆ don't like don't read! ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 4.1k words

✷ NIA — heyyy... how y'all doin... quick snack before i finish the actual fic i'm working on

smut warnings under the cut ⋆

mean jay ⋆ choking ⋆ degradation ⋆ punishment ⋆ male masturbation ⋆ orgasm denial ⋆ oral (m!rec) ⋆ brief shoe humping if at all. more like mention of it ⋆ body shots but make it nastier ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ reader fucked around and found out ⋆ like two singular instances of praise

There is something about men like Park Jongseong—men in power, men who seem to always have it together and every situation under control—that makes you want to slowly strip them of their restraint piece by piece, as if playing jenga, until it all comes crashing down.

You take pride in knowing how to get Jongseong to crumble in a just a few moves.

"I told you to only wear that when we're around friends," Jongseong says as he follows you through the entrance, hot on your heels. He rids himself of the jacket that is making sweat drip from his hair and down his forehead, then pulls at the collar of his shirt.

You ignore the bark in his tone, and twirl around in front of the huge mirror in your living room. You wanted a floor to ceiling one, but the ceiling in your and Jongseong's apartment is so high, you had to request it to be custom made. Expensive, but worth the money, and you can't wait for it to be delivered. You have plenty creative ideas on how to better utilize it, ones you're sure Jongseong is also eager to put in practice. "Don't I look good, boss?"

You don't need to look back to know he's probably staring daggers right through your back. He hates when you call him boss with that little mocking tone you reserve only to get under his skin. You two have equal power in the company, he is not your boss and you are not his, but within the walls of your bedroom, you enjoy messing up the dynamics a bit.

The light from the overhead lamp catches the diamond decorating your ring finger as you smoothen down the silky fabric of your dress. The ring is proof of Jongseong's devotion to you, the sight of it a reminder of your time spent all the way in Italy, just the two of you in a beach resort with the dreamiest view.

Ever since the engagement— which was kept a secret from pretty much everyone— Jongseong had softened down. You don't know if it's the prospect of a life together, of a family, that's making him go easier on you during your most intimate times, but one of the reasons you fell for him in the first place is the never ending game of cat and mouse you two got accustomed to playing. One you aren't ready to give up yet, or at all for what matters.

So, you take matters into your own hands. If he hesitates to play, that just means you have to bring out the big guns.

"That was a business dinner, not some random brunch with your girl friends. You were not dressed appropriately." Jongseong walks up to you and grabs your waist with a roughness so uncharacteristic of him. Everyone knows him as calm and collected man, never prone to anger, heart of gold. Only you get a peek into this side of him, the more jealous and possessive one he keeps hidden in the shadows. Knowing it's something reserved for you only makes you want to poke the bear all the more.

"A very uneventful dinner, my girls' brunches are way more fun." You know the reason for his anger is not because your dress doesn't conform to whatever dress code was put in place long before you or Jongseong got into the business world. It's a front he's putting up, to not admit that what he really feels is jealousy. Jealousy because he had to sit across you, pretending you don't live at the same place, pretending he's not balls deep inside you every other night, pretending he isn't the man who proposed to you months ago. Jealousy because he had to see his very rivals openly flirt with you all night long, uncaring of the ring on your finger that should have been enough to keep them the fuck away from you.

He's mad because he knows you and how you love playing games, he knows you push him on purpose, and as aware of it as he is, he can't help but fall for it every single time, even when it means giving you exactly what you want.

He bunches up the cream colored silk in his fist, his wrist glimmering with the heavy watch you got him for his birthday, and the slight movement is enough to uncover what you are wearing underneath.

"Is this your idea of fun?" He laughs, and the sound is devoid of any humor. It makes a shiver runs down your spine, but it also tells you you are on the right track.

It's the same lingerie you wore for him on the night he proposed, the one he spent hours picking out during one of his business trips instead of resting at the spa of the five star hotel he stayed at. It's white and embedded with a shower of diamonds. The best money can buy for his own jewel waiting for him back home.

He specifically bought that one for the special occasion, claimed you as his in it that same night. And you wore it around the very men trying to surpass him, crossing your legs here and there to give them a peek.

Jongseong is an enjoyer of the finer things in life. The tiniest detail of his life is hand picked by him personally to display his refined taste. From the bedding he imported from across the globe, to his very personal wine cellar stocked by Mr. Sim's private collection, to the fragrances he wears daily, formulated with the help of the most talented perfumers. All of it has to fit perfectly to his taste and parameters. He is a man of sensations, the touch, the smell, the feel. They all awaken memories in his mind, that's part of the reason why the lingerie you wore the first time he made love to you as your fiance had to be perfect. But now you have tainted it.

And for that, he has to make you pay.

"Come on, it's just the panties. I didn't even wear the bra, so it doesn't count," you say, putting on your best pout. You know it's useless when you meet his gaze and find his pupils blown out, the warmth you're accustomed to being met with seemingly gone.

Jongseong's other hand slides up, feeling the dress under his palm, taking his time in cupping one of your tits. He's careful, almost sweet in his exploration. If his eyes didn't tell you another story, you would think the anger had evaporated out of his body. It's what tells you he's not letting you off the hook easily this time, but deep down, it's what you wanted all along.

You meet his hand with yours, smaller fingers caressing the skin of his wrist then sliding up to intertwine with his longer, thicker ones. You guide him to squeeze your chest, enamored with the way he looks at you, like you're the most beautiful piece of art he has ever laid eyes on. Like you're his and in dire need of a reminder. "It's nice right? Custom made in France."

He lets out a hum. Then, moves his hand to rest on your neck.

Your breath hitches. He barely applies any pressure, but the weight alone is enough to make you want more. You crave the fuzzy feeling that courses through your veins when you let Jongseong decide how much and when you get to breathe, the delicious lightheadedness that comes with it.

It's what gets you going, the knowledge that you could say your safe word out loud and he would drop his hand immediately. Knowing he would rush to reassure you and take care of you like he usually does. There's power in granting someone else your submission, and at the end of the day you both know it's you who is calling the shots.

You follow his hand again, pushing to get him to apply more pressure on the sides of your neck. Even when you know you're gonna let him do whatever he wants, you enjoy making him work for it.

He frowns, and you smile. You can practically guess what he's thinking: if he punishes you, he's giving you exactly what you want. But if he doesn't, he's letting you off the hook with not so much as a slap on the wrist. No matter what he does, you have already won.

Jongseong makes his choice for the night. His grip on your neck strengthens, and you wheeze when he brings his face impossibly close to yours, whiskey and mint breath fanning on your lips. There's a something in his eyes you don't think you have ever seen, the look of pure unadulterated fury. It looks much like obsession does, in the way it's icy cold and not burning hot like one would expect. It stings like dry ice, like frostbite.

He has never looked better, and your thighs move on their own, squeezing in search of relief. You bite your bottom lip to silence any sound threatening to spill out, but Jongseong sees right through you. He sees the raw lust overtaking your body even when you try to deprive him of the show.

"You enjoy pissing me off, don't you?" he asks, venom dripping past his lips. You want to kiss it off of him.

"You're—" He squeezes, and you gasp. You have to gather strength to finish your sentence. "Easy to piss off."

"I think I've heard enough from you tonight." He relents his grip on you, smoothing the wrinkled mess on your dress like he wasn't just choking you mere moments ago. "Go sit on the bed. Dress on, don't make me repeat myself."

You follow his instructions, much to your surprise, like your legs are moving on their own. Half the reason is the sternness in his voice, you can't recall a time when he has ever sounded quite like that. The other half you guess is curiosity, when it comes to punishing you, he rarely makes detours.

When you walk into your room, you find it tidy just like you left it before heading to dinner. Your side of the bed is overflowing with pillows while Jongseong's only has two. One is the pillow he uses when sleeping and the other one is heart shaped with a case printed with his favorite picture of you. You got it for him as a joke, half expecting him to laugh and then never think about it again. Instead, he treasures it like it's the most precious gift you could have ever given him, despite how poorly made it is. Even when most of the pillows on your shared bed end up on the floor during the night, he makes sure that one never does. You think if it came down to it, he would rather lay on the floor himself.

If Jongseong is pleased, he doesn't show it, because soon enough he walks into the room with two brown labeled bottles of red wine and stemmed glasses, not sparing you a single glance.

He takes his sweet time reading the back of each one, unscrewing only one bottle open. It's his way of getting back at you, making you wait. Each second that passes makes you more curious about what his next move will be, about how he is gonna punish you. Your eyes never leave his figure, his buttoned shirt doing nothing to hide how the muscles of his arms work as he untwists the cork. Your hungry gaze travels down, devouring him inch by inch, finding him already hard in his dress pants. No matter what he says, you know he enjoys this little game as much as you do.

"Can you be quicker?"

"I told you I've heard enough." The cap gives up with a pop. Finally. "No more talking unless I ask questions."

He pours a glass, then dangerously walks up to the bed where you are sat and hands it to you. "Open up."

It takes you a few seconds to comply, but ultimately, you do. You keep your gaze fixated on his as he tilts the crystal glass, pouring the bitter liquid down your throat. It stings on its way down, it paints your lips in hues of red.

When Jongseong removes the glass from your lips, you poke out your tongue to clean the mess left behind, gaining a hum of satisfaction from him. Still, it's not enough for him to voice out any praise.

He pokes his thumb into your mouth, lowering your jaw open to make sure you swallowed every last bit. The action is innocent to the untrained eye, but the execution is so charged with lust, it has you squirming on the edge of the bed. "Is the wine to your liking?"

You nod, but he quirks his head, waiting to hear you say it out loud.

"It's nice," you say, voice still rough from earlier.

"Good. That's good. I'm glad." He puts the glass down on the shelf facing the bed, right next to the bottles and the corkscrew. "Because you'll have more of it later."

He leaves you no time to process his words, grabbing a fist of your hair and pushing your face right on his crotch. The surprised gasp that leaves you is muffled against the cotton of his dress pants, and it takes you a second to understand what he wants you to do. "Stick your tongue out for me—yeah just like that."

He guides your head with his iron grip on your hair, letting you mouth at his clothed cock until his pants are soaked with your spit. It's messy and obscene, it leaves you wanting to feel his skin on your tongue, to get an actual taste. You want him to take his frustration out on your mouth, to use it like his own personal toy, and you make sure to show that to him.

"You're so dirty… look at you, so eager to please. What happened to all that attitude from earlier, mhh?"

You lick a long stripe, from the belt to the underside, putting more spit in it the lower you go, looking for any reaction.

When he bites down on his lip to keep a sigh of pleasure in, you feel emboldened enough to grab the button holding his pants together with your teeth, pulling it between them to signal him to take them off. Instead, he pulls your head off of him completely, ignoring your whines.

"Awww baby," he mocks, titling your head up. "You thought you'd get what you want so soon? You know better than that."

He undoes his belt and his pants, then leans back against the desk right behind him. "You've been such a bad, bad girl all night. I think you don't deserve to have fun yet. Am I wrong?"

"Please, I'll be good from now on." You look at him, glossy eyed. But he's way past the point of being impressed by your words. All you do with that filthy mouth of yours is lie anyway.

"We'll see about that." His shoulder relax with a sigh as he palms his cock briefly, alternating between squeezing the outline and stroking it, before dipping his hand down the waistband of his boxers. He takes it out, revealing the length to you too. It looks delicious in his hand as he gives it a few experimental pumps, the red tip glistening with accumulated precum, more abundant with each stroke. "Stay put where you are. No touching yourself until I give you permission. Understood?"

You're too lost in your own thoughts, too in awe of the sight before you to really register what Jongseong says. Your mouth waters as he works his hand around his thick girth, and you wish it could be your lips wrapping around it instead. Your hand runs down your body, still covered by the dress, looking to give yourself any sort of relief from the pressure that has built inside your belly, a feeling no amount of squeezing or grinding down on the linen bed sheets is enough to satiate any longer.

Jongseong catches you instantly, and stops moving his fist. In return, this snaps you out of your daze. "I said, no touching. Try that again and you're not cumming for a week. Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm sorry," you meekly say, snapping your hand away from your core like it burnt you. You believe him when he tells you that, because it has already happened. The first time he threatened it, you ignored it, convinced he wouldn't actually leave you dry and hanging. You learned the hard way Jongseong doesn't really take promises lightly.

"Good." He resumes his movements after ridding himself of his shirt, torso glistening under the light. He starts off slow and steady, deliberately showing off just how thick he is because he knows it's your favorite thing about his cock. It sits heavy in his hand, and every few strokes he squeezes, recreating the way your cunt clenches around him when he's buried in you to the hilt.

More than anything, it's the sounds he makes that really get to you. Jongseong's little moans and gasps might just be your favorite things in the entire world and being the one to rip them out of him is something you take pride in, it's your motivation to keep going when you're tired and spent. He sounds beautiful as he keeps jerking himself off, his hair slowly getting wetter and wetter with each movement of his arm.

The veins running down his length look fuller, and so do those on his arm. A sick part of you wants to bite down on the flesh of his biceps, leave your mark on him for everyone to see. There's no worse punishment than not being able to touch him, and after so many times he's tried to put you in your place, he might have actually cracked the code on how to get you to behave for at least a little while. Jongseong continues working on himself, his brows furrowed in pleasure and eyes closed, imagining who knows what.

It's only when he looks at you to check if you're keeping your hands to yourself, and finds you with your arms glued to your sides, eyes teary from desperation, that his movements falter. He throws his head back, stuttering through a chain of fuck fuck fucks, fist squeezing on his cock to stop himself from coming on the spot. He takes a few seconds to regain control, breathing so heavily you would think he just ran a marathon.

When he's sure he won't cum from your sight alone, he opens up his eyes again to take your disheveled form in. One of the straps of your dress fell down, and the silk got all bunched up at your waist, culprit panties on full display. Your makeup is smudged on your cheeks, but he thinks you look better like this anyway. He almost caves in.

"Come here," he says, but most of the anger and bark in his tone from earlier is just a faint accent. He's a weak man for you, unfortunately for him.

You get on all fours on the floor, literally crawling to be at his feet. He grabs your face to caress it, sweet and gentle, runs his fingers along your jawline. There is the faintest twitch of a smile on his features. He wants to cave in. "Do you know your place now, baby?"

The light hits your features in a way that almost makes you look angelic, but you're a much more devilish creature. And when you nod, the hunger in your eyes betrays you. Jongseong wants to cave in, but he doesn't.

He gives you a light slap, its sole purpose is to admonish you, not hurt. He grabs your face again, this time with more strength, and squishes your cheeks together. "But I don't think you do yet."

A hiccup leaves your lips when he lets go of his hold on you and turns to the shelf behind him, the little glimmer of hope you held out on now trampled under his foot. "Please— I'll be good, I'll listen to you from now on, I'll do any—"

Jongseong interrupts you, full glass of wine in his hand and an amused curl on his lip. "Yeah? Then prove it to me. Get to work." He lets some of the wine fall down his torso in little streams of red. It drips down his abs, the hard ridges shaping the flow of the liquid. It goes lower, and lower, and lower down his v-line and thighs.

You stare at the imagine, enamored with it, mouth watering as your eyes follow the droplets' descent down your fiance's body. You're so captivated Jongseong has to remind you to take action with another light tap on your cheek.

You lick a stripe of wine off of him, from his thigh to his pelvis, reveling in the way his leg bounces under the stimulation, under the sheer power of your sultry gaze locked on his. His Adam's apple bobbles when your tongue traces its way to his cock, red and angry from the edging he subjected himself to. You go to wrap your hand around the base of his length so you can suckle on his tip, coax more of that delicious salty precum you adore out of him, but his hand swats yours away.

"No hands, keep them behind your back. Show me how you use that mouth."

The order has you gushing in your panties, now too ruined to ever be worn again. Your thighs are slick with want, from all the wetness seeping out of your poor untouched cunt, from all the times you have clenched around nothing ever since the night started. You know the only way to cum is to follow Jongseong's orders until he's happy and satisfied with your compliance.

So you do. You bring your hands together behind your back, pretending an invisible restraint is keeping them out of the way, then bend forward to take his tip inside your mouth, giving it a few experimental sucks that have his hips stuttering to push more past your lips.

You take more in, trying your best to relax your mouth as you do so because he's so thick, but the sight of your struggle makes his throb.

"That's it. Good fucking girl. Such a good girl for me."

The praise hits you right where you need him most, and you can't possibly hold in the moan you release around his girth, the vibration making him throw his head back in pleasure.

He lets more wine dribble down his body as you work your magic on him, the liquid cold against his scorching skin. Some of it gets on your dress, staining it, and you think this might have been his plan all along.

"Aw. Look at your dress, now you won't be able to wear it anymore. What a pity," he groans. "So good, your mouth is too fucking good."

You double your efforts, and Jongseong coos at you. "Poor little thing, you wanna feel good too, don't you?" He sets the wine aside again, opting instead to push the hair out of your face so you have better access to his cock without anything getting in the way. "Wanna get a pillow to hump?"

You make a muffled sound of displeasure, and he laughs. Of course, he knows that's not what you want.

"What is it then?"

You think he's about to pull you off of him so you can speak, but he doesn't. He keeps you in place, mouth on his length right where it belongs, and instead expects you to voice your needs without a chance to breathe.

You want to tell him it's his touch that you crave, and you try your best to, but it comes out incomprehensible, a muffled jumble of sounds that don't quite hold any meaning.

"I'm sorry, couldn't hear you. Try again?"

Tears prickle your eyes, squirming in your spot, at his mercy and on your knees for him. You try again, with even worse results.

Eventually, he relents. His shoe moves, pushing under you, until it comes in contact with your dripping clothed pussy. Your reaction is immediate, a long drawn out moan at the smallest, faintest contact. He teased you for so long, you think even a brush could be enough to make you come undone. Yet, he makes you work for that too.

"Hump my shoe then, make yourself come if you want to so badly." He bends down, fist still in your hair to pull your head backwards. "But hold it until you make me cum first. After you swallow all I give you, then you get to let go. Understood?"

#✷ mortal works #enhypen smut #jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #park jongseong x reader #enhypen drabble #enhypen fic #jay fic #jay drabble #park jongseong drabble #enhypen imagine #jay imagine #enha smut #enha x reader

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cod-dump · 11 months ago

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The Shadows had their own culture, Price had accepted that by this point. His boys had theirs so he wasn’t really surprised. Just… they are a bit much.

“What… is that?”

One of the Shadows had walked right into Graves’ office when they were trying to form some vague impression of a plan to present to Laswell. And in that Shadows arms was-

“That’ll be the US of A’s majestic possum. With an ‘O’, might I add. Opossum.”

Price stared at the grey creature that had the darkest eyes he could only compare to Ghost’s. Graves wasn’t fazed, just reached behind him to the fruit bowl that Price kept wondering about and grabbed a banana. The Shadow, without a word, accepted the banana and left with possum in hand.

Price silently looked to Graves who just shrugged, “Boys found the thing when it was a baby and what they do with their paychecks ain’t my concern.”

Price blinks, “Ah… so how many-?”

“How many unusual ‘pets’ do the Shadows have? The weirdest I saw was Bobby. An alligator. But he’s wild. Though he likes to come over for pets.”

Honestly, what was he to say to that?

“You have it worse than me.”

Graves grinned, “Oh, this is an ‘us’ problem now.”

Shit.

#call of duty #modern warfare #phillip graves #john price #shadow company #drabble #pricegraves #bobby the alligator

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cod-dump · 2 years ago

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Moose trusting people really plays in with how the other Shadows and Graves feels about the person. Given Moose has had some unpleasant experiences with trusting people who turned around and stabbed him in the back, he doesn’t fully trust his own abilities to judge someone and determine them trustworthy or not.

If the majority like/trust the person, he’ll follow suit. Though he will also come around on his own (at his own pace). But Alex showing that they care for the Shadows will definitely lead to Moose liking them at a fast pace. And a cup of coffee on his desk, made in the particular way that he likes (with a packet of hot chocolate mix and nothing else)? Alex is quickly going to get a new best friend.

How my Shadow Company OC Would Interact with Moose

Alex is definitely intimidated by how tall Moose is at first since they're 5'9 and Moose is much taller than them

I feel like Moose would be equally as intimidated by Alex because their callsign is Reaper and y'know... death? He doesn't know what they're capable of since they're only new.

After a while, I think both of them would warm up to each other.

Moose would still be wary of Alex until he trusts them. He likes them because they take care of the rest of the Shadows.

Alex would begin to like Moose almost instantly after the initial hesitation. Coffee and tea on his desk each morning. Don't like tea or coffee? Have a glass of water to stay hydrated!

I think they would have a mutual appreciation of each other. Alex moreso than Moose.

Moose belongs to @cod-dump

I don't think any of that made sense😭

#shadow company moose #cod oc #shadow company #shadow company oc #drabble #cod oc: alex

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codderanged · 2 months ago

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Sweet Tooth

A/N : This is super last minute but here’s a little light fluffy Easter oneshot for all my Graves enjoyers!! I haven't written content like this in a while so... gneurnbinsbin

Word Count : 1,151

TW : None!

Easter was always an interesting time around Shadow Company base. Every year Commander Graves would wake up extra early to hide hundreds of little eggs. They would be in the easiest places imaginable all the way to spots where Shadows were unsure how Graves got them there in the first place. Sometimes eggs would be left over from the past year, having not been found until the next or possibly more.

The newest Shadow recruit only caught wind of this the week of Easter through mess hall conversations and the growing buzzing excitement in the halls between missions. According to the other Shadows there were rules to the whole thing.

No bribing Commander for where he’ll hide eggs

No collecting or searching until 6 AM

Be kind

It all seemed simple but Easter morning it was like the whole base was an entirely different place. The halls were radio silent all until 6 AM. As if everyone was waiting for it, the moment the clock struck 6 Shadows were sprinting down the halls to begin the hunt. The newest recruit was swept up in the stampede only to be left behind in their dust. As they regained their bearings it was suddenly apparent that if they didn’t do their best to catch up then they’d be left with no eggs. In a tizzy they began running after everyone else in hopes that perhaps it’d lead to a good area to search.

After merely an hour of searching it was clear they were already too late. Especially since they didn’t have the experience to know where to search like everyone else did. With a dejected sigh they stood in the middle of the now empty mess hall. The place was clear with even the egg Graves had hidden in the high ceiling tile rafters having been found. In the midst of their sulking they were deaf to the sound of boots on the tiled floor. A hand gently patted their shoulder and the Shadow merely jumped from surprise. The weight and size of the hand was all they needed to know who it was. “Enjoyin’ Easter?” the familiar Texas tinged voice of their commander asked.

The shadow wanted to be honest but didn’t want to ruin the excitement. Just as they were going to respond, Graves interrupted with a frown.

“First Easter, hm? Guessin’ you weren’t as prepared as you’da liked.”

The shadow’s eyes went to the floor as they nodded with a little embarrassment. Graves merely chuckled and patted their shoulder again. “S’ alright. I keep some extras in my office just fer this. C’mon.”

Graves gestured his head towards the exit with a reassuring smile. The shadow perked up, brows raised in surprise and slight disbelief, before scurrying to catch up to Graves who had already started walking. The walk was silent but luckily short as Graves made a few turns before finally arriving at his office and holding the door open for the shadow. They entered slowly as if touching some forbidden area. Graves chuckled at the apprehension, “Not like yer in trouble or sum’n. Don’t be shy now.”

He gently guided the shadow into the room with a light touch to their back. Once they were both inside he shut the door with a gentle click.

The whole office was full of leftovers from Graves’s Easter work. Extra packs of bulk plastic eggs in boxes, jumbo variety bags of candy, and even marked maps of the entire base grounds from his egg planting planning. The shadow giggled at the extent Graves went. Surely for such a commander it was a bit silly.

Graves heard the amusement and let out a light laugh of his own, “I know, I know. It’s a mess in here. Each year it gets like this. Worth it, though.”

He went around the side of his desk and bent down to look through an unlabeled box. A few seconds later he stood back up and tossed a couple of candy-filled plastic eggs towards the shadow. “Think fast, soldier!”

They expertly caught one in each hand, a smile gracing their face, “Thank you, Commander.”

“Don’t mention it,” he nodded and rounded his desk again to lean against the front of it.

The shadow, almost like a child, opened up the eggs and took a look at the candy inside. Graves sure didn’t go cheap. He packed each one with several different kinds of mini sized candies to the point it was surprising he got it all to fit. Their smile only grew, but they glanced at Graves before daring to open the candies and eat them. He smiled and nodded, “All yours.”

As they popped a couple of candies in their mouth Graves hummed and stood up, hands on his hips, “Y’know, I’m not much of a chocolate guy. But I’ve got a roaring sweet tooth.” He paused to grin at the recruit before him and raise a brow. “Y’mind lendin’ me some sugar?”

The shadow nearly choked on their candy as their face went red and eyes went wide. Grave laughed for a moment before coming behind them and patting their back to assist them with the coughing fit they were having. When the coughs simmered down he rested his hand on their waist, leaning in close to their ear, “Really, though, I’d like it if you didn’t mind. Only if you didn't mind.”

The recruit felt a shiver fly up their spine and for a few moments they stared into the commander’s eyes as if testing his seriousness. His brow raised in question and then the recruit realized he was being entirely genuine in his request. Their heart hammered in their chest as their face heated up all over again. Graves didn’t take their fluster as an affirmative, though, and waited until he finally heard their little mumble, “I wouldn’t mind,” to move to stand in front of them and wrap his arms around them.

One would think Graves was a colder man considering his job, but he seemed like an expert of tenderness as hands gently held the shadow by the waist and pulled them in. He craned his neck to reach their lips; his own slightly rough ones colliding with the recruit’s mouth with an underlying sense of need. Graves was doing his utmost to control himself for the sake of his shadow’s comfort, but he was desperate for this. He melted into them as he tasted the faint hint of the candy they had just eaten on their lips.

Graves pulled away just enough to mumble, lips brushing against the shadow’s, “Mind if I ask you for some sugar more often?”

The shadow giggled and shook their head, causing Graves to smile before diving in to give them a quick peck on the cheek. “Well I’ll be gettin' myself a sweet tooth on more than just Easter from now on.”

#cod #call of duty #operator 823 drabbles #cod mw2 #cod graves #phillip graves cod #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #graves cod #cod x reader #shadow company #cod modern warfare #cod oneshot #fluff #light fluff #istg lightest fluff known to man

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uzurakis · 1 year ago

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hiii! I’m here to request a scenario (headcanon? Drabble? it doesn’t rlly matter; do whatever fits best, just as long as Yuta and Megumi is in it :3, you can add another character if you want or something!!) when the reader is being admired/stalked by another person? Like jjk men hear a snap sound and whip their head to see someone taking a picture of reader, or jjk men noticing the same person commenting + viewing reader’s social medias all the time, etc etc! It doesn’t rlly matter how you want it to play out; do what you like :3

STALKER IN SIGHT?!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji.

n. thanku for the request and the creative liberty on this one nonnie <3 have fun seeing them all protective with their own ways for you !

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi and you sat together in a quaint little café, savoring the warmth of your drinks and the comfort of each other's company, a faint click disrupted the moment. lost in conversation, you barely registered the sound, but megumi's keen senses picked it up immediately.

"what’s wrong?" you asked, puzzled by the slight shift in his demeanor. “i think someone just took a photo of us," he replied, tone tinged with concern.

you glanced around, but saw no one with a camera. "really? i didn't notice anyone."

he nodded, his gaze focused on a young man a few tables away, phone in hand, a smug grin on his face. without hesitation, megumi rose from his seat, his movements purposeful yet controlled.

with a protective instinct, he strode over to the guy, calmly but firmly retrieving their phone. "i'm sorry, but i'll have to delete that photo," he said, his voice carrying a subtle warning. as for the person, they were taken aback by his assertiveness, complied without hesitation.

“thank you," your boyfriend said, his tone polite yet tinged with a subtle warning. "we do appreciate your cooperation."

with that, he returned to your table, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "sorry about that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee. "i just wanted to make sure our moment wasn't interrupted."

GOJO SATORU

"babe, do you feel like we're being followed?" unsure, you sounded apprehensive.

he chuckled lightly, his gaze scanning the surroundings with practiced ease. "don't worry, darling. i've got my eyes on everything. if there's anyone following us, they'll regret it."

relieved by his assurance, you relaxed, allowing yourself to get lost in the beauty of the moment. but as the evening wore on, the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing minute. and then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of movement, a shadow flitting among the trees.

your boyfriend noticed first. his face clouded, and a flash of rage lit in his body. "stay close to me," he said, voice low and menacing.

"alright, enough is enough," he declared, cutting through the silence like a blade. "whoever you are, show yourself.”

“you don’t wanna get on my bad side, really.”

from the shadows emerged a figure, their features obscured by the fading light. "i-i... i just wanted to... to…"

your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed and his tolerance wore thin. with a quick burst of speed, he closed the distance between them in an instant, his palm clutching the stalker's collar like a vice. "you just wanted to do what?" stalk us? follow us around like a creep?” gojo’s aura exuded an undeniable terror that sent shocks down the stalker's body.

the stalker trembled beneath his grasp, their breath coming in shallow gasps. "i... i'm sorry, i didn't mean any harm. i just... i just wanted to be close to her."

gojo's grip tightened, eyes flashing with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the darkness. “if i ever catch you following us again," he threatened, "you'll wish you'd never laid eyes on us. understood?"

ITADORI YUUJI

together, you and itadori were enjoying a serene moment in the park, laughing and chatting as a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. the silence was abruptly broken, though, by the sound of surrounding camera shutters clicking.

itadori's smile faltered as he noticed a group of guys discreetly taking photos of you both. his expression turned from confusion to annoyance, his brows furrowing in irritation.

"not cool, dude," he called out, his sound firm but not overly aggressive.

the guys turned to look at him, their faces displaying a mixture of surprise and defiance. one of them chuckled nervously, attempting to brush off itadori's remark. "hey man, just capturing the moment, you know?"

your boyfriend, however, would not have it. his movements gave off a subdued threat as he walked towards the group. "i understand, but you’re making me and my girlfriend uncomfortable. so stop it.”

taking advantage of the crowd, one of the guys moved forward with aggression, their fists balled up with rage. "who do you think you are, telling us what to do?" itadori's muscles tensed, his gaze hardening in anticipation. however, he refrained, showing strength in his control, before things might get out of hand.

the guy, taken aback by itadori's composure, hesitated for a moment before backing down, his bravado replaced by a palpable sense of fear. "o-okay, man, we'll stop," he muttered, trembling slightly.

with a final warning glance, itadori returned to your side, a huge grin painting his lips. "as i was saying," he continued, as if the whole tragedy didn’t happen a few seconds ago. “we have to watch jennifer lawrence’s new movie together, babe, okay?”

YUUTA OKKOTSU

you were laughing and chatting as you looked through the shelves of a pleasant shop with yuuta, exploring the various products on exhibit. your boyfriend trailed along behind you, half-heartedly staring at a customer's phone nearby as you moved to make a purchase.

his expression shifted subtly as he noticed the username, the same one that had been relentlessly stalking you for months, liking and commenting on your social media posts. his jaw clenched with a mixture of concern and irritation, but he maintained his composure.

leaning casually against the counter, yuuta shot a seemingly innocuous question towards the customer, his tone deceptively casual. "the girl's pretty, huh?"

the customer, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry, hesitated for a moment before reluctantly answering, "y-yeah, she is."

with a small, knowing smile, yuuta straightened up, his gaze piercing as he delivered his response. "well, sucks for you, that's my girlfriend."

the customer's eyes widened in realization, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "i-i didn't mean any harm, i swear," he stammered.

yuuta's expression softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. "i don't care what your intentions were. you've been making her uncomfortable for months, and that ends now. stop stalking her, or you'll have me to deal with."

the customer nodded hastily, his hands trembling as he pocketed his phone and made a hasty exit, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in his wake.

turning back to you with a soft smile, yuuta wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "what happened?" you asked with a chuckle, he was suddenly clinging onto you.

"nah, just grateful i have the prettiest girlfriend alive."

@uzurakis — rqs are open <3

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