#commander Makarov

[shadowbratt]

POV : watching Makarov cook for you after he fucked the shit out of you 😩😩😩

[bellgraves]

Somebody tell me who is this and why he looks like Graves?!?! I had full blown conversation on tiktok with someone who send me that clip of Makarov meeting that guy in the airport. I didn't pay too much attention during the game but now I'm shocked?? Makarov said that there is a Shadow who is a spy and is working for him. Is that him?!?!? Or maybe this is Graves brother??? Graves brother is working with him in Shadow Company?!?!

When I look closer he doesn't look like Graves. But he is very, very similar.

I don't know.

[fiishwitch]

Really like this idea where the tf141 are all hockey players. Like Gaz would a defenseman, Price would be the captain and right wing, Soap I feel like would make a good center, and Ghost would obviously be the goaltender. Laswell will have recently taken over as the team's coach, relieving the previous coach, Sheppard. But Sheppard is now coaching for a rival team with Graves and Makarov play for, because why not.

This little au has been marinating in my brain all day, and the idea just love the idea of them soap tormenting ghost with hockey jargon. Or ghost being interviewed after a game still with his goaltender mask on, icon black grease paint blackign out his eyes, and when asked why he's still wearing it he's like to protect my face??? Like that wasn't obvious. Price, who's famous for being one of the youngest players to ever play professionally, giving Gaz and Soap pointers and always telling stories about the league when he was young. Gaz who is the hockey prodigy his whole life but is still teased as the quiet rookie for some reason since he was brought up from the minor league.

Ah! I love it. If this something like this already exists, please let me know! I'm foaming at the mouth wanting to write a codhockeyau and yn the hell out of it.

[wingless-things]

More CoD WoF au design chibis!

(Individual under cut)

Graves, Sandwing

Shepard, Skywing(baldddd)

König, uhhhh Mudwing? Nightwing? Idk

Makarov, Icewing

Yuri, Ice-Sand hybrid

Valeria, Sandwing(?)

[izak-gov]

looking up at the sky (for something i may never find)

aka a small drabble about my cod oc and his relationship with makarov ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) it can be read as romantic but it is relatively toxic because cujo is working with the cia. set sometime between 2019-2023 because makarov is still in the gulag !! 𖠋𖠋 vladimir makarov & my cod oc cujo ♪ title is from 'Andromeda' by Weyes Blood

“--Sasha?”

The nickname brought him out of his daze, and Cujo looked up to see Volodya, Makarov looking at him. He swallowed thickly before smiling sheepishly, though the other man would’ve only been able to see the crinkle of his eyes under the black fabric obscuring his face.

“Sorry?” The Russian came easier to Cujo now, and he cursed the flames of satisfaction that licked at his heart when he saw the pride teasing at Makarov’s smile. Cujo sat back and put down the tattoo pen, and as he spoke, he wiped away the excess ink, smearing the black over Makarov’s torso. “If you were saying that you changed your mind, Commander, I’ve already finished. What is it you like to say, timing is everything? Should've spoken sooner, sir.” Cujo’s voice was light as he teased, and his jest was met with a laugh and a swat to the hip. 

“It is promising news for our cause.” Makarov’s accent was considerably thicker than Cujo’s, as it was not marred with the same foreign twinge as his subordinate’s, yet it still carried a familiar tone of amusement as he snarked: “That my own Lieutenant does not listen to me.” 

Cujo rolled his eyes and grinned, ignoring the painful protests of his scars as he did so, and pressed a hand against Makarov’s chest to brace himself as he leaned down to huff in amusement. “Don’t pretend you ever say anything worthwhile during these meetings, Commander.” His gaze flicked around the gulag cell, the dreary walls illuminated by the fluorescent lights flickering beyond the cell door, and his eyes lingered meaningfully on the guard, who was pointedly looking the other way—a small bulge in the pocket of his jacket from the envelope of cash hastily stuffed within. 

Despite the miserable climate, Cujo wasn’t feeling the cold like he should. No, not when he and Makarov were like this. It was selfish, god was it selfish, to indulge like this, but if Laswell probed, he would say it was entirely tactical. But deep down, far down, he knew it wasn’t tactical nor necessary.

There was no tactical gain to Makarov’s hands on his hips, swapping their positions so Cujo was laying on the hard mattress; no necessity when he let his jumper and shirt be discarded; no necessity to the goosebumps that blossomed across his back when Makarov brushed his calloused hands over the flesh to apply the stencil. It was the same one Cujo had been using to ink Makarov’s sternum, the Sacred Heart of Jesus, symbolizing the leader's devotion to his cause and his devotion to the true Russia. 

And as the needle pricked at his nape, Cujo was left in the hum of his own dubiety. 

What was he devoted to? What did devotion mean to a man living in falsehood?

[x3no9]

Special delivery!! One evil Makarov, please sign here, Commander ;).

A fusion of both Makarov's with a cute lil Yuri tattoo. The eyes and temperament of the OG and the adorable dimples and hair of the new one.

[frogchiro]

Ever since MWIII came out and that scene where Soap and Ghost interrogate that woman, I had a random thought of where the woman let's it slip about Makarov's little hacker but he moves her constantly so there's no way she can be caught–

Idk, but all he had to do was lean forward to the lady and said 6 words and she FOLDED

I won't lie, this is the ask I've been waiting for. THIS is a masterpiece darling and I thank you for it, I've been daydreaming out this ever since I got your ask😭

And yes, I imagine Milena would rat Makarov's hackergirl out among other information too, albeit...more reluctantly. While she herself is in the Inner Circle and she basically controls all financial aspects of the Konni Group, she is also well aware of the Commander's...fondness of you, the girl Makarov dragged out of Zordaya Prison. Once bruised, scarred and weak, now a powerful asset who deal technology and information like Makarov deals with blood and violence.

After Soap and Ghost pressed Milena on the matter where Makarov is and what is his next target, Laswell realized that something is...not quite right, like something is missing. While the Ultranationalists were powerful already, with an army and seemingly unlimited money, they seem to always be a step ahead, always knowing something that should be impossible to sniff out behind layers and layers of redacted and confidential red tape, they had to have someone with them that would break it all down, someone strong-willed, persistent and loyal enough to do such work.

After further pressing Milena and Soap threatening her bankroll and own little imperium, it was all they needed for the woman to break and yell out a single name,

"(Y/N)! It's-Her name is (Y/N), she's a hacker that Vladimir broke out when he left Zordaya Prison...", Milena panted, her breath heavy and eyes opened wide while looking down on her hand in her lap as if she said something that should never see the light of day.

"She's...She was supposed to be his pet project, someone to do the dirty work no one knew how to do, but...He became obsessed with her, always by his side, always his sidekick along with Andrei. Vladimir is moving her constantly, never in one place for too long unless he's close."

Both Soap and Ghost looked at each other, confused since they never heard that name before but Laswell's silence was enough for them to realize that the situation may be worse than they initially thought...

[thegnomelord]

i took 357191027r6392936446322736432947372 psychic damage from the Makarov fic so you gotta write reader being rescued, healed, rehabilitated and loved by the task force. imagine them teaching reader to be their own person or letting him top without any commands or punishments. reader would be whining like a puppy who doesn't know what it's doing and would be so cute and fearful looking for reasurance when fucking into a task force member it would be so cute

lol idk dude. I was intending to do the fic as a one off to satisfy my puplay kink but it's now started to rot my brain even more lol. If I did continue it, I don't know if I'd want a happy ending or an angsty one (omfg imagine going through all the healing and rehab and experiencing love only for one word from Makarov to have you going back to him without question)

So tell me ya'll if you want me to turn the one shot into a longer fic lol, but for now here's some headcannons, ideas/ whatever and some porn

CW:NSFW, rough anal, Simon x reader with Price watching, dom/sub.

I can't imagine Hound would be happy about the 'rescue' considering everything and definitely would be resistant to rehab (Hound biting ppl and getting muzzled lol) that dogheaded asinine stubbornness coming to bite him in the ass. I headcannon Hound to have already been violent when he was under Price's command but Price kept Hound in check(if anyone's seen that young ghost and price comic with him being compared to a fighting dog it's kinda like that).

Makarov didn't need to do much and just played into the aggressive tendency to make Hound as they are now. The more violent the reaction hound would make, the more attention and praise he'd get. Also I'm just a sucker for dog like characters that are unhinged. That have no moral compass except for the one they're loyal to and will do whatever they ask.

So the task force members would have their hands full with Hound that's basically an aggressive fighting dog taken straight out of the pit. Also I'm still thinking whether the 141 would try to steer Hound away from the pup/dog like mentality Makarov conditioned them into, or if they would try to redirect it by calling Hound 'pup, boy' etc, instead of 'dog' like Makarov did.

Also the grief Price would feel to see the man he thought was dead turned into that would break his heart. I don't know if I'd want him to crack down on trying to rehab hound, or let a lot of things slide because he's scared of fucking you up more.

But also like rehabed fighting dogs turn out to be the sweetest animals and Hound just going from this 'I will bite your throat out' to just a gentle giant that's just happy to be able to touch or hug someone without needed permission. . . but he can still bite a throat out.

Also I 1000% swear that Makarov's a whore and would have trained reader to have enough stamina to fuck him all night long so the task force would get pounded into next year lol.

This is questionable cannon and non-confirmed lol you just got me brain rotting with the cute pup part and this came out. Rough and quick.

CW:NSFW

You feel like you will die; heat burns through your veins, sweat crawls down your skin and makes your hair stick to your forehead. Your hands grip Simon's bruised hips, holding them up for him as you pound into him. "Please-" You barely manage a small whimper, hiding your face in Simon's shoulder.

Simon's body quivers beneath you, limp and boneless, a wet hole for you to use. He's as sweaty as you, rough grunts and half-formed swears leaping from his lips every time your hips meet his ass in a bruising thrust. He's the closest to you in size, albeit still smaller, which makes it easier for him to take your size than the others. His insides are a sweltering heat around your cock, fucked into a loose sloppy hole that would gape if you pulled out, muscles still doing their best to squeeze you every time you nail his prostate.

It makes you feel ashamed how long it took you to find it. Mounting anyone but Makarov feels wrong, you're not sure how fast or how deep to go, this current rough pace making Simon the most vocal since you began. You feel him cum again, walls clenching tightly for the first time in a while as you force him into spurting what's left in his empty balls.

"Pl- sir, I- please, please," You can't help but hiccup, your nails leaving crescent bruises in his skin as you just pound him through his orgasm. It's his fourth one.

"What's wrong son?" Price's words barely get through the fog of need in your skull, more little whimpers splitting from your lips. "Don't you want to let go?" Tears blurry your vision, you can barely see his face from where he's resting Simon's head in his lap.

You can't cum. Your balls are so full they feel like they'll explode any second, cock throbbing to finally shoot your load but no matter how harshly you thrust into the willing hole beneath you. It feels like those times Makarov would put a cock ring on you, but worse, now it's your own body refusing to give you release. You haven't earned it.

"Please-" You repeat, because that's the best your mind can come up with, your hips stuttering as overstimulation stabs your nervous system like a knife. "I-please, fuck- I can't." You force out, forcing yourself to return to the punishing pace, your pelvis starting to go numb like it would a few hours into Makarov using you as a living dildo.

Price's fingers are disgustingly gentle as they curl into your sweaty hair, making you look up at him with soft pressure on your scalp. There's no bite to his touch, no pain, it's too good for a thing like you.

You'll thank what god exists that Price seemingly understands your problem, "Oh, son." You hate the hint of sorrow in his tone, you hate yourself more for how it makes your heart pound in your ears. "Here, let me" He whispers, his other hand sliding down to your naked neck.

The lack of any collars around your neck still disgusts you every waking moment, still makes you feel wrong, bad dog. His fingers wrap around your throat. They're too loose to be a proper collar, but it lets you breathe easier, his palm warm and big enough to completely cover the 'V.M' tattooed on your skin.

"Go on, that's a good boy." He whispers, "Cum for us." Price orders, kissing you so softly it disgusts you, like heaven wrapped in thorns.

You feel fresh tears spill down your tears as the dam not letting you cum is finally torn down. You hiccup your 'thank you sir's against his lips as you spill inside Simon. You can just distantly hear Simon groan as you dump your cum into his sloppy hole, muscles weakly fluttering around your cock as you roll your hips, fucking your cum deeper into him, just the act of cumming hurting almost as much as being denied, your balls aching with every spurt of cum.

You collapse on Simon, pushing the breath out of his lungs, as boneless as him. You don't struggle when Price rolls you to your side, your cock slipping out. Cum and lube gushes out from his hole like a firehose, flooding the small space between you two, his rim red and irritated, muscles weakly fluttering around nothing as they try to close.

You try to thank him but you slur your words into his skin, feeling the muscles in his abdomen quiver as you huddle closer and wrap your arms around him, your chest pressed flush to his back. You expect him to pull away, Makarov hated being vulnerable like this longer than he needed, but all Simon does is grunt and tip his head back so you can hide your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

"You olright Simon?" Price asks, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair for a few seconds before you feel him softly wiping away your spend from you two.

"Fuck," Simon breathes out, voice scratchy and rough. "Are we sure Makarov's human?" His hand reaches up to scratch your scalp as you kiss one of the numerous bite marks you left on him. His skin is a canvass of black and blue bruises, your bite marks starting to clot across his body. "Shit, I can't feel my legs."

His words feel like a slap in the face, and you don't notice how you let out a small whimper, your hold tightening. This is it, you'll have to let him go soon, he'll order you to leave like Makarov always did.

"None of that son." Price's voice is calm in your ear, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. "You did good."

Simon hums, his fingers running lower to scruff you, "Mhm, yeah," His words are slurred, exhaustion weighing on both of you. "Best snog I've ever had." He grumbles, and you don't doubt he won't admit it in the morning, but for the moment, as you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep, you let yourself enjoy the praise, the warmth of human touch, the care you can feel in both of them.

This is starting to feel nice.

[shadowbratt]

Can we talk about how thick his arms is

The arms

The bulletproof vest

And the SEDUCTIVE RUSSIAN MEAN MUG

🥴

[thirsty-koi]

Mama 👹!Soap watching over his children soldiers

(three little babies and their “scary mommy” watching over them during nap time)

I headcannon this Soap being an old friend of Price who disappeared during a mission many years ago (prior to TF141’s creation). Surprise surprise he’s still alive and returns under Price’s command to help hunt Makarov and Shepherd.

[justadeadreaper]

okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please

Puptrapping?

You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?

Anon, your wish is my command.

Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.

Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.

Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.

This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.

But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?

Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.

So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?

He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.

Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.

Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.

Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.

The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.

With everything prepared, he has sex with you.

Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.

And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...

[blingblong55]

...Ready for it? -Vladimir Makarov NSFW

Based on a request:

The lack of Makarov content here is killing me, I was wondering on a enemies to friends with benifits type thing with Makarov (he would be in a absolute denial that he even develop feelings for someone especially if it's his own enemy) --- F!Reader, dark romance, enemies to friends with benefits, smut, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, some fluff, knife!play, blood!play, MDNI ----

A/N: dear anon, its okay to love villains...they are hot either ways

Sworn enemies, forever to wish death upon the other. Unsuspecting eyes and hearts. Your gun, blazing as it hits his plate, "Fucking bitch," he calls out. You chuckle and shoot at him again, better luck next time, you wish to say. One goal: to dominate the underworld of evil. This is what life was like between you and him. Konni Group and the enemy, Kasper Team. Turn the light on and it's the same kind of killer on both sides, commanded by two fucking masterminds. The devil whispered his wishes to Vladimir, whilst Satan herself moaned the desires into your ear. Hate, absolute fucking hate is what you and he had for each other. 

He did some bad things in his life and fucking around with the mistress of evil you had become was the worst thing he did. A dagger, the same one that carved your name, is now in his hands as he makes his dogs sniff out your hideout. You teased him with every glance, you can never catch me, is all your eyes gave out. And oh boy was he after you like a hound. At every corner, his eyes looked for the silhouette of you. The curves and that evil grin you gave him. Lips he wanted to hear him beg for their life. 

It was June when you visited Poland for some hacker you sought after. That hacker belonged to him. In a world of evil, you always need some shit nerd to do your job. He sat on the desk, waited and waited until you walked in. Posing as the hacker was one thing but to have you in that room, alone was another. Dangerous, your glare on him said. "So, are you in?" You asked the 'hacker' but the one who turns to answer holds a gun. "Ask again, doll," he chuckles deeply and you shake your head. "Un-fucking-believable." Once he was in front of you, his hand went to your waist, "what's the matter? Don't want to dance with the devil?" His gaze teased yours this time. 

"Don't you fucking start, Vladimir-" and in that instant, he began the game of cat and mouse by kissing your lips to keep you quiet. Once he pulled away, he laughed knowing that for the first time, he kept your pretty mouth shut. "Now listen to me, you may think you are a step or four ahead of me but doll, you are playing with the wrong darkness," his hands grip your face now. "What do you want?" you bite. "The missiles and the codes for the safe houses," he responds. You try and look away but his grip is stronger. "Don't you fucking look away from me!" he barks. Then he feels it, the gun pressed to his crotch. 

"Don't you know you are playing with dangerous game here?" the gun pressed harder to him. "You think you can scare me? Darling a girl like you is a mere speed bump for me," his face and yours closer. "A dog like you is another bag of bones for me," your finger closer to the trigger. "They are here," one of his men informs. That stupid fucking task force. "Ivan, entertain them for me," he commands. From a distance, guns and screams can be heard. "Can't fight them off yourself?" you tease him. "Darling I would, but you are one messy girl who needs to be taken care of first."

"Let's make a deal, you give me 141's files and I give you three missiles." you write the demise. "Add a code to it and we have a deal. and what's with you and those men?" You nod in agreement, your gun back to its safe place. "Let's just say they are playing in the wrong backyard." He then nods and hands you a piece of paper, "Why don't we end them together, maybe then you'll be my only headache." You grin, "I want to be your migraine," your lips close to his and before he even dares to lean in, you walk away. "I expect those files, Makarov." You place your mask on and your men escort you. "Better stick to your end," he calls out. 

Once back at your headquarters, you look at the piece of paper he handed you. "Let's call a truce for now. Let the games begin." A smirk on you. 141, codes and missiles, a game for demons to play with. Days pass the truce is set. He walks into your base, then he greets you. "R/N," his hand holding yours as he kisses it. "Never took you for the gentleman type," you comment. "You're in for a treat, doll," he walks past you like he knows the base. "Office, no?" You nod and walk alongside him. No one to bother you for hours as he and you talked about ways to end all targets and focus on who was more evil. 

Curtains closed as you and him created poison for all mutual enemies. Maps, plans and bullets are all that are displayed on a desk. "Be smart, don't play just because you want to. If you need them to be killed, take the first target," he places a bullet down on the map, "here...and once you do, all else will be easy to kill," he instructs. "Then make sure Chimera is isolated and bring some of KorTac, that should keep them entertained," you draw the names with a red pen. "We make a good team, R/N," he smiles. "Focus," you say and look at him. 

Near night, his men drove you and him to a hotel, to not stay there for a warm rest but to look for potential hideouts for the upcoming war. As he and you constructed what was known as Operation Cleanstreak, he observed you in a different light. You and him, both under tension when his hand slides to your waist. "Don't. Do. That." your voice was stern. "C'mon, we both need it, and I sure want it," his lips brushed your neck. "Be a good girl and kiss me, yes?" You back away and chuckle, "Horny so soon, tsk tsk tsk," you shake your head and cup his face. "Listen to me here, I am not going to get caught fucking you," and just before you were going to tease him, he gives you puppy eyes that gaze from your lips to your hot fucking stare. "Fuck it," he whispers and kisses you deeply, his tongue slipping into yours. He needed a taste of your poison, kill him with it because he would be addicted by the end. 

He pulls away, catching his breath and before he looks away, he finds that his addiction to the kiss spreads like a disease because in an instant, he gets pulled back and you kiss him. "Thought you were a gentleman?" you say between kisses. "Oh, you are in deep," he pushes you to the bed, his blade close to your jeans. "Be a good girl and let all know tonight I claim this pussy," his blade cuts your clothes open and he gets down, kissing your inner thighs and nibbling on them. Some of your blood drips out, he looks at you, "Ooh, did my princess get cut?" he gives you a playful pout and licks the blood off. A groan from his lips falls out when he tastes it. "Sweet divine," he whispers and sucks on the cut. Your blood still dripping out as he spells his name with it on your chest and when it doesn't all fit how he wants, he cuts your shirt open and spells it all out. "Look at that," he undoes your bra and slaps your tits a few times before sucking on them and groaning. His mark belongs to you. Suits your pretty body either way. 

Without warning, he licks his fingers and as he once more cuts another fabric of your body, he sticks his fingers into your cunt. "Already wet?" he teases and slaps your pussy, mercy out of the bed this night. "Fucking slut, aren't you?" he continues to slap your cunt and watch as you moan and whimper. "Take it," he growls and soon, gets on his knees and begins to eat you out. His tongue feels so heavenly on your cunt. The noises that filled the room, all moans, groans and the wetness of your cunt, were to be heard by two evil lovers. His gaze was either on your or your gorgeous tits. Often his eyes would flutter from how amazing your cunt tastes. 

He gets up and fingers you as he kisses your neck and lips. Never did he think he'd be fucking the girl who gave him reasons to be even more dangerous. When you began to rub your clit, he slapped you and went to grab a rope to tie you to the bed. Only he can please you. You mewl as he made you more and more sensitive and once he knew your cunt was ready for him, his fat and girthy cock slips inside of you. You cry out, tears running down your soft face. "I know, I know but you can take it," his thrusts were slow and gentle, getting you used to his size. Your cunt clenching around him, making it an even better sensation as he fucks himself into you. 

"Fuck...oh...just like that," he caresses your tits and groans. When he knew you were well used to him, his hands flew to your hips and began to go faster. Your back arching, he can see his bulge on your tummy, his thumb pressing on it, making you moan more. "Oh you like that?" he smiles and does it again. A knot inside of you, building that sweet orgasm. Your face flushed as he can't seem to stop claiming your pussy with his fast cock. "Vlad-...fuck-i...n-ngh..." You were now more than drunk on him. His fingers rub on your sensitive clit and then he feels it as he hears you cry and moan. Your juices coating his dick. "Oh princess," he moans. 

He can't hold on any longer, his cum writing what no other man could claim again. Your tight pussy milking him, his cum filling you to the brim as he leans in and kisses you, his thrust slow before he pulls out. Rough hands cup your face, "Did you like that, beautiful?" he whispers and kisses you, waiting for an answer. "Loved it," you say between kisses and he grins. You whine when he stops touching you completely, he gets dressed, "Good night, R/N," he closes the door as he leaves. 

Months after that night, he sees you again. It was a one-night stand, no, this meant something to him. Every night for all those months, he would send you files of Task Force 141, in the bag with each file, he made sure to send a disarmed grenade with your name and a flower attached to it. His own hands wrote your name, over and over again. He swore it was to make sure you never forget what you let him do to you but deep down in a sick way was to thank you for letting him have you. And as you met him again in that lonely office at your base, he acted cold. 

You acted cold too, but it was to guard yourself from him. His gaze noticed that hidden in that room were all the grenades that held your name. His heart flutters and a smile creeps to his face. He did it, wrapped his arms around you and when you slapped him, he chuckled. "Do it again," he whispers. So you did, you kept slapping him until he kissed you. Not believing himself, he did it again, kissed you over and over, love is for the weak and now, he is weak. "Don't leave again," you whisper as he rests his forehead against yours. "Think you'll be seeing more of me, my love," his voice soft for the first time in his life. You smile and he kisses your forehead, his strong hands bring you close to his chest. His chin is on your head as you bury your face in his chest. Comfort and love were found in that office that night, grenades and flowers were kept in that office too. 

A/N: Not my fault the devs made him hot...

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @selarus @kielsegur @palomesa @kaska127 @thefragmented @rowrowrowyourboat13 @liyanahelena @aethelwyneleigh27 @alhaizen

[the-californicationist]

This will be the first request I’ve ever made, I want you. Only if you can. Price coming home in this, whatever mission it is, needs and wants his princess. Marvin Gaye, Sade, maybe? And naughty shenanigans, kisses!!! Thanks thanks and hugs!!! 👑💜

And He Spoke of His Dreams

Song inspo: Like a Tattoo by Sade

Thanks for the ask! Hope this is what you wanted! TW: fem reader

It was late, too late, when John's keys finally rattled in the door. In front of you, meticulously placed on the table, was his icy cold dinner, two candles burned down to their ends, their wax dripping onto the pale tablecloth, and an empty bottle of wine you had meant to share. Your lips were stained red, as if your mouth was bloody, like a lioness over her kill, panting and wrathful. Stained. Stained with it.

He sighed, but he didn't say anything. He was wearing The Suit. He only owned the one. It was the funeral suit, and the wedding suit, and it was the suit that he wore when Laswell called him down to the base for these late-night chats about all the things he should be doing more (or less) of. About how it was his fault that Makarov escaped. About how it was his fault that all of the intel had been tainted. About how it was his fault.

What were you going to do? Tell him he was late to his own birthday dinner? Tell him you hadn't seen him in days even though he should have been home from duty? Tell him you had been waiting for him, pacing for him outside of the door to his home office, hoping that you could find a reason to barge in there and demand his attention?

What good would it do? What were you against the importance of Terrorism?

"Hey, love."

His voice was smoke and brimstone, sparking even though his ire wasn't pointed toward you. He had been yelling. You'd been married to him long enough that you could hear it in his timbre.

"Have a seat, John. I'll warm it up for you."

You tried to hide your frustration, but it oozed around your words like a fetid stench, and he could smell it.

"Sit down."

You sat. He was still a commander. Sometimes he shed that mantle on the drive home... and sometimes he didn't. You could tell he was fighting it. You could see how he heard his own command and winced from it, flogged from his own whip in some sort of self-inflicted flagellation. He hurt himself when he struck you with those words.

John pulled out the chair and drug it across the floor unceremoniously and without care. The legs banged along the ground and slammed down as he fixed the seat in position right in front of you. He sat and you heard the wooden chair groan. He kept his knees spread wide apart, framing you inside of them. As he leaned forward, his black tie fell into the empty hole between you. His hands played with the hem of your dress, and you could feel the backs of his knuckles on his skin.

"Laswell wants me to send me and my men back to the field, and I told her I wouldn't. Bad intel. Went round and round and round..." his volume started low, but it began to increase, like a rising flame in a pile of tinder, "It was like she couldn't hear me. Like she wouldn't..."

He had more to say, but he stopped. You knew that he had a whole rant bottled up in there, but if he let it out, he'd be back in that familiar rage, wearing it like a second skin, and he promised you wouldn't see him in that way. Not again. There had been such a peace.

You weren't sure what made you do it, but you kissed him. You felt your lips purse and press into his mustache, tickled by it, wetting the hairs. You felt the fullness of his soft lips as he responded to you, kissing you back but pulling away.

"Darlin'..."

You attacked, deciding to show him just how darling you could be, deepening the kiss, and giving your tongue to him. If he wouldn't eat his dinner, you would feed him something else.

He relented, enticed by your surprise offering, and any part of him that wanted to hold onto that old, comfortable anger was happy to put its paws on something softer.

John wrapped his arms around you, devouring you with his mouth, pushing at your jaw and forcing you to collapse into him with his immense body leaning on you. He pulled you up, making the chairs scream again as your legs jostled them away.

"C'mon, love. C'mon."

He was speaking into your mouth, filling the hollow of your cheeks with his own words, groping you and caressing you wherever he could manage. As he held you, he moved you into the bedroom, bullying you into an awkward, all-encompassing dance, eager to lead.

His shirt buttons caved under your effort, and he managed to loosen his tie enough to let it flutter down to the floor, trampled by your feet. You found his undershirt and tugged at it, using your hands to venture underneath to pet his belly and make him gasp.

"Bloody hell. Wha's gotten into you, missus?"

His shirt peeled away from his back.

"Don't wanna hear about your shitty day," you hissed.

The top two buttons of your dress were undone.

"Oh? Why's that?"

His hands rucking up your skirt, trying to pull it off of you.

"I wanna feel your shitty day," you smiled, licking your lips, "I wanna feel every bit of it. Give it to me. Let me feel you. I wanna feel you."

You prayed that he understood you. He seemed to, grinning as your hands pried away his trousers from his waist, yanking at his zipper and seeking out his hidden warmth.

John was already as hard as a stone, and his smooth, velvety cock filled your hands and reminded you of just how much of him there was. You pumped at his length, slicking the precome over his head, teasing him just enough to make him wild.

His eyes held a bright fire within them, and you could tell how much he wanted to take control, so you forced his hand. He was always so careful with you, but that's not what you needed. You needed him to bind himself to you, like a bone once broken that was now healed.

Your knees hit the floor and you rubbed your cheek over his length like a cat. You did it again, enjoying the look on his face and the brief uncertainty about what he should do with his hands. He stumbled back, just a half-step, but enough to tell you that you were doing the trick.

His hands were in your hair, and he groaned for you, watching you in furious disbelief as you took him into your mouth. You could only fit his head, but you suckled from it hungrily, pulling it into the wet warmth of your mouth and rolling it around with your tongue.

"Fuckin' hell. Fuck..."

John got rough with you, pulling you up by your scalp, gripping you at the base of your skull, slowing his pleasure down and staring at you like you were a ghost, something unreal.

Then, he kissed you again, letting you both fall to the bed, pressing you down with his weight so that you couldn't move. You couldn't even shift your hips; you were fully at his mercy, ready and very much willing to be used like his toy.

He slid into you without resistance or help. Your body welcomed him in, not asking you for your opinion.

"Mmff... fuck!"

John growled out mid-kiss, trying to reel himself back in. You gasped and moaned, feeling the same effects as your husband, reveling in the magic he had crafted between you.

All of his rage melted from his visage like butter in a pan, soft and frothing and bubbling in a place that was once rigid and cold. You tried to grind your hips for him, milking his pleasure one tiny motion at a time, stoking that fire to dangerous heights.

As if he was being forced to comply, he began to thrust into you over and over. You felt his cock slide all the way out and all the way back in like a shining piston.

It made your eyes water. Your pleasure was so enhanced by his ferocity, and his intensity burned its way through you with every selfish push and lustful pull.

Greedily, he picked up his pace, slamming himself into you and hugging you to him, desperate to be closer and not having a way to make that true. He began to talk to you, telling you his secrets,

"Needed you so bad."

More and more of his cock seemed to find a way to fit itself inside of you, and you couldn't remember ever feeling so full.

"This fuckin' pussy. My pussy. Mine."

His possessiveness made you want to scream, and you could tell he was pleased with your reaction to his declaration of ownership. His smug, satisfied look turned you on even more.

"So wet for me, pretty thing. Wet. Wet. Wet."

The sounds he was making inside of you were straight up pornographic, and you loved hearing the result of his work. He was a master at drawing out your pleasure, and you thought you might blackout if he didn't let you come soon.

"John, please -" you said, but you were interrupted.

He plastered a huge hand over your mouth and chuckled darkly,

"Smells sweet," he licked your neck, sending chills across your arms and chest, "Like you've been wantin' me for a while. That true?"

You nodded, unable to respond. Then, you basked in the pleased look on his face. It was delicious to see him so enamored with you, and you wanted to roll around in it like a dog.

"Gonna come on me, missus? Wash away my fuckin' day, yeah?"

You nodded again, weaker this time. You felt your body decide to divert its attention to your core and the pressure building in your womb. It was like the end of a lit sparkler, glowing and spitting, sparkling and hissing and then... it was the explosion.

Your orgasm spread like wildfire across your skin, blazing in your hips and rushing through your veins, burning you inside and out.

"Tha's it," he was shouting over your screaming, "Lemme hear you. C'mon! Fuck!"

John pressed his cock inside of you as deeply as it would fit and felt the climax as it rent its way through you. He allowed himself to follow, pouring his joy out into you like warm, melted sugar, sticky and cloying.

Shorter, shallower thrusts painted his come inside of you, and your senses were overwhelmed by it. Everything was golden and silver and glittering with his love. Everything was bright. Everything was John. There was no you. No him. You were bathed together in this cosmic light, forever entwined by it.

More than anything, he looked relieved. It was exactly what he had needed. He needed to let himself out, to let his wildness run free, and you celebrated being the vessel for such reckless abandon.

He was petting your breasts, kissing them and studying them like there was a test. Occasionally, he would return to your mouth, slanting his own over it and languidly using it to kiss you. He would lick and taste and kiss and suck and you would allow it. You would be his toy for as long as he needed, and in turn, he was yours to command. Your captain.

"I like you like this," he confessed, keeping you pinned beneath him, "All mine. Trapped, hm?"

"All yours, John. As long as you need me."

"I'll always need you."

[miniwheat77]

Power Hungry. (Graves x Virgin!Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, non con, virginity loss, Graves is pushy, military talk, blood, violence, no minors- you know the drill!

Soap is not dead on this blog, he’s alive and well. That was not canon here! XD NOT EDITED

It’s no secret that Commander Graves has a thing for you.

He has since the day he met you.

He didn’t care who was around when he flirted with you. He didn’t care who heard. You didn’t mind him or his flirting at first. You got along with him pretty well. You didn’t see him too much because you were apart of task force 141 and he was with his own group. But that didn’t mean you didn’t like him. You of course had no intentions of ever pursuing his advances. You were a scared virgin and that was that.

Things changed when he took over Alejandro’s base and attacked Soap.

He held you inside Alejandro’s base alongside him. Had you tied up. He killed many innocent people and threatened you. Held a gun to your head.

It was a weird day when Soap and Rudy said he died in the tank, and you heard nothing about him for months.

Until you were sitting in that office talking to Shepherd.

“Without an army you’ve got nothing.” Gaz spoke. You were standing next to him. “Wrong again boys.” When Graves appeared on screen your stomach fell. Knowing what he’s capable of. What he said he’d do to you if you didn’t cooperate. You tried to hide yourself behind Gaz. “Un-fucking-believable.” Soap groans. “Soap… you miss me?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he says it. You hear nothing but ringing in your ears for the next few minutes. Not until you hear your name and freeze up.

“Is that Y/N behind you, Gaz?” Graves smiles. He bites his lip and you freeze. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh come on. Let me see her. Show me that pretty face.” Gaz backs himself up into you. Giving you a chance to get out the door without being seen anymore by him. You’d have to thank him later. “It’s alright. She’s got some hard feelings.. I’ll make it up to her.” He smirks. “Fuck off.” Gaz growls. “You tied her up and threatened to kill her, I hope the next time she sees you she shoots you.” Soap rolls his eyes. Graves laughs on the other end.

———

You’re stood next to Gaz when Graves tries to shake his hand. Gaz doesn’t make a move and you have to stifle back a laugh. You can tell it eats Graves alive that none of you will be nice to him, but that’s not something that’s going to change. Not ever. His betrayal was unforgivable.

When Makarov got away, the task force stepped back. They had no intel, no leads. Nothing. Shadows were staying on the base with 141 and you had live alongside them until they went elsewhere. So you kept to yourselves mostly. You did your very best to avoid Graves. Until you couldn’t. You were on watch, but your partner had changed. You had no idea who was waiting up there for you. Who you’d be on watch with for the next couple of hours. You expected maybe Captain Price or another shadow. But you didn’t expect him to be waiting there for you.

His smirk was knowing, he’d purposely put himself as your partner on watch from here on out and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Why couldn’t he have been a good guy? Someone you could trust?

He stands up from his chair. His smile beaming as he made his way toward you. “Y/N.. how you been honey?” He smiles. By the time he comes to a halt there’s barely a foot of space between the both of you. Which gives you the perfect distance for a right hook. He doesn’t expect it, not from you. You’re sweet and kind.

He stumbled back, recovering from the hit. His eyes are wide when he looks up at you. Wiping his now bloodied lip.

He laughs. In complete disbelief.

“My name is Y/N. That’s how you’ll address me. If you don’t want to sit on watch alone for the next couple weeks, you’ll shut the fuck up and leave me alone.” Your demeanor is strong. Your chest is puffed up and you’re standing your ground. Something he didn’t expect from you. You pass by him, going to sit down. “Oh come on, you’re not still mad are you?” You freeze up. Swallowing hard. “You tied me up, held a gun to my head, and than went after my task force. I’m fucking furious that you’re still standing on two feet.” The venom in your voice stings him a bit. How you could hate him so bad.

He knows he deserves it.

“What’s it gonna take huh? To prove myself to you?” He breathes. “You’re a fucking dog, a filthy traitor. You’re never going to be anything more than the dirt on my shoes.” You make your way for the door. “You and I? Will never be friends. Not ever. As far as I’m concerned, you’d have been better off if you pulled the fucking trigger.” You seethe as you slam the door shut, going down the stairs of the watch tower and leaving him up there alone. You knew you’d have to come back tomorrow, but for now, you needed to get away from him.

You think about him a lot. You always have.

You think about how flirty he was when you first met him. How he’d make you blush. He’d wink at you in passing and your stomach would fill with butterflies. You always thought it was a stupid crush but your virginity is what kept you away. You were scared to lose it, and avoided the topic at all costs.

Seeing him now makes you realize it was more than just a crush. You had real feelings for him deep down and his betrayal cut deep and hurt worse than anything you’d ever been through. If he liked you like he said he did, why was hurting you so easy? If you like someone, how could you? You lost sleep over it, and the time you thought he was dead, you dreamt of him. You would dream about how it was all a mistake, that it wasn’t real. How he’d come running to your aid and hold you close to him. Reassuring you it was all fake.

And than you’d wake up. And he’d be dead again.

He was a lot easier to get over when he was dead. It was easier to cope with because of his betrayal. You shouldn’t care that he was dead because of what he’d done and that’s how you got through the grieving process. But now, you didn’t know how to feel. He was alive but it seemed harder to cope with.

The next day on watch, you were up there first. He came inside but didn’t say anything to you. Thank god.

He leaves you alone for the most part. Only asking certain questions about how the base worked. You were short with him.

It went that way for weeks. You kept to yourself and so did he.

It was him who finally broke the silence.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you, you know.”

You turn to look at him, eyes darkening. For a second he thinks he made a mistake. But he doesn’t stop. “I.. I was just trying to scare you. So that you wouldn’t run away.” He swallows down a lump forming in his throat. “I knew you’d be pissed. Of course I did. But.. I thought maybe if I kept you close to me for long enough, you’d understand.”

He sighs. “I was delusional. I was terrified.” He looks down at his hands. “I acted purely out of fear, Shepherd told me about the consequences of what could happen if those found out about what had happened despite me not knowing. I was desperate to cover it up. He told me to kill you but I couldn’t. That’s why I kept you tied up. I didn’t want to.”

“He used me and threatened me. He blackmailed me because he made me apart of it. And Y/N.” He breathes. Looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for the hurt that I’ve caused you. It was never my intention, I tried to avoid it.”

You look down. It’s silent and he’s clearly waiting for you to say something. “What’s done is done.” You breathe. “Maybe you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. And maybe when you’re dead I’ll forgive you.”

And just like that, you’re gone again.

———

For the next week or so, he decides to get close to Gaz.

He offers to help him any chance he gets and Gaz always says no. But Graves jumps in to help anyways. It drives Gaz crazy at first, until he gets used to it.

Gaz is helping work on a Humvee and Graves is passing him tools, offering to be a runner if he needed anything. “This is about Y/N isn’t it?” Gaz asks out of the blue one day. “What?”

“You’re only being friendly to me because of her, right?”

Graves sighs. “Gaz. I’m trying to make it up to you guys. I know it’ll take forever, but I’m trying.” He mumbles. “What I did was fucked up and if the shoes were on the other feet I’d have put a bullet in my head already and I’m thankful you haven’t because I know you want to.”

“She liked you.”

Graves freezes up. “What?”

“She did. She had feelings for you. She buried them deep afterward but she did. Had nightmares about you for fucking months after you died.” Gaz mumbles. “I… didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Of course you didn’t, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” Gaz wants to ring graves neck for hurting you. You’re like his little sister and seeing you be in love with someone who’s so selfish eats him alive. “I’m trying here. Okay?”

“You scared her.” Gaz slides out from under the Humvee. It’s where he’d been working. He picks up a towel and wipes his hands off. “I’ll never forget the look on her face when you betrayed her. When you betrayed all of us. She kept a fake face on, made us all think she was okay when she cried herself to sleep for days afterward. She’d never been so scared, she didn’t know who to trust or what to do. Captain Price had to send her off on leave for a couple weeks so that she could recover. She tried so hard to hide how she felt. Seeing you probably eats her alive, and having to work alongside with you I’m sure has ruined any kind of healing she’s done.” Gaz shakes his head. “And what the fuck she ever saw in you…” he scoffs. Throwing the towel down. “She’d be better off if you had died in that tank.”

He walks away, leaving Graves standing there alone, again.

He hated how bad this task force hated him, but he understood.

Soap is who he approached next, trying to keep him company. But Soap barely showed him the time of day and when he did it was the bare minimum. Soap hated Graves. With a burning passion. But that didn’t mean he stopped. Soap did all kinds of chores all over base, so Graves started helping.

He worked alongside Gaz, doing grunt work in the shop where Gaz tried to learn everything he could about the Humvee’s. He helped Soap with chores around the base, every single day. When he wasn’t busy that’s what he was doing.

For two hours a day, he was sitting up on watch with you. He never said a word, only did what he was supposed to.

When it came to missions, he let Captain Price control everything. He told the Shadows to follow his orders and do what they’re told and Graves did too. He kept his mouth shut and did exactly what they wanted.

On these missions, Graves watches Ghost like a hawk. Making sure he was safe, taking down a couple men that sneak up behind Ghost along the way. Graves knows to keep his distance and try to make amends by staying away, Ghost is too dangerous.

At the end of the day, if Graves dies on a mission, not a single person is going to care. He did something unforgivable, something he can’t come back from. If one of them decides they’ve had enough of him one day and kills him, they’ll cover it up and said he died in action. And that will be the end of Phillip Graves. It eats him alive day and night, but nothing compares to the way he’s hurt you. He thinks about back then, the way you’d smile and blush in his presence, roll your eyes at his flirting. Now, you were cold. Falling in love with him, or catching feelings. He doesn’t know which.

Having feelings for him destroyed you. Turned you into a cold hearted person. Who killed and served like there was nothing to it. All of the life you’d once been full of was drained because of him. Because he was supposed to protect you, but he was the one on the other side of the gun to your head. He stabbed you in back and you trusted him so much.

“What do you want from me Graves?” Soap finally snaps one day. Graves is helping him clean up the mess hall. Soap is stacking the chairs up and graves is sweeping as he goes. “I don’t want anything from you.” He mumbles. “What? You’ve been following every single one of us around like a lost puppy doing anything and everything we say, if you think that’s how you’re going to win us over it’s not going to work.” He scoffs. Graves shakes his head. “That’s no my intentions, Soap.” He sighs. “Than what are you doing?”

“I just want to work alongside you guys without hating each other. I can’t take back what I did, but I can be better. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Soap rolls his eyes. “You betrayed us. We’re never going to like you. Not ever.”

“And that’s okay. But I’m going to do better and I’m not trying to prove that to you, I’m proving it to me.” Graves continues sweeping the floor. Leaving Soap with nothing else to say.

It goes on like this for months.

The task force worries of course, they don’t want to get comfortable with him because the last time they did that, he tried to kill all of them.

But they get used to it. To his help.

———

Graves follows after you. Hiding in the shadows. It’s late at night.

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe he just isn’t thinking at all.

He knocks at your door quietly and you’re confused as you open it. But your heart rate picks up when you see who it is. What on earth is he doing at your door so late?

“Hey.” He breathes. He steps toward you and you hurriedly step back. “What do you want?” You say quickly. He raises his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to talk to you.” He breathes.

He can see your pupils are blown wide, you’re on edge. Had he really scared you that bad. He can see you clutching your sidearm. He sighs. “I swear I’m not going to do anything. You don’t have to be scared.” He breathes. “I’m not scared. The only thing between me and you is a bullet.” You breathe. “Just.. please. Talk to me?” He bites his lower lip, looking down at the ground. You sigh. “What do you want?”

He steps into your room, closing the door behind himself. “I just wanted to ask you..” he breathes. “Is it true you have feelings for me?”

“Had.” You finish.

“Okay.. so it’s true. You did have feelings for me.” He sighs. “Yeah. Until you betrayed us and put a gun to my head.”

He winces as the words leave your mouth. “I.. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just trying to scare you.”

He sits down on the edge of your bed, you’re standing in front of him, just a few feet away. “It worked.” Your eyes darken. You draw your gun from its holster, pointing it right at him. “Maybe it’s your turn.”

He closes his eyes as you move closer, pressing the barrel of your gun right to his forehead. He winces when you cock it.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

He reopens his eyes, seeing that your eyes have filled with tears. Your hands have begun to tremble. “You’re not sorry.”

“I am. I’ve never regretted anything more. I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.” He breathes.

Just as a tear slides down your cheek, you spin around to hide it. Wiping your cheek and shoving your gun back into its holster. “You need to go.”

“No.”

“Leave.”

“I’m not going. Not until you know how sorry I am.”

“Just go!” You wipe your eyes. You don’t want him to see you cry. “No.. not this time.” He breathes. He stands up, pulling you into him. You fight him until you’re sobbing so hard that you can’t contain it anymore and finally you relax back into him. He holds you against him while you cry. He pulls you back into the bed, your back against his chest as he holds you tight against him. You’re sitting in his lap but he’s got his arms wrapped around you. You’re still trying to fight him through sobs but you’re weak. He swallows hard, a lump growing in his throat.

Eyes fill his own tears. “I hate you.” You cry. “I hate you for what you did- I hate you for hurting me so bad.” You hiccup. “I hate you because I still care-“

You hang your head, trying your hardest to stop this panic attack.

He holds your arms to your side and keeps you there until your sobs quiet. Until you’re doing nothing but hiccuping. Thats when he finally stands up and sets you down. Kneeling in front of you. He takes your hands in his and forces you to look him in the eyes.

“You’ll never know how much I hate myself for what I did.” He swallows hard. You can see he’s got tear stains on his face. “You’ll never see how much it hurts me. Seeing you like this. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you so bad. And I swear to god on my life I’ll live the rest of it protecting you. You don’t have to believe me. But..” he grits his teeth. Trying to hold back his own emotions. “I care about you. And you don’t have to believe me. But I was never going to hurt you. I wanted you by my side. It’s why I kept you tied up. I want you, I’ve always wanted you to be with me. So.. forgive me, for what I’m about to do.”

You look confused, your heart has finally relaxed in your chest. “Wha-“

He stands up, pressing his lips to yours. You start to panic again, trying to push him away. But he forces himself on top of you. He forces you back onto the bed, using his weight to pin you underneath him.

He’d already taken his vest off. Leaving him in only a t-shirt and jeans. He reaches for his belt. Once you hear the rattle, your eyes widen and you try harder to push him away. “Wait- Graves wait!” You push him back. He only pins you down, pressing his lips to yours again.

He forces your pants down your legs, keeping his lips on yours.

You didn’t realize how strong he is. Because no matter what you do, you can’t get him off of you.

He grips the base of his cock, and just as he’s about to slide into you, you force your head to the side.

“Please! I’m a virgin!”

He freezes on top of you. You look up at him, and all he can see in your eyes is terror. He steps down onto the floor, quickly lifting his pants over himself. “W-what?”

You pull your legs up to yourself. Hugging them to your stomach. “I’m.. a virgin.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He back away further.

“Fuck.. fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking- I-“ he reaches quickly to buckle his belt, going for the door.

“Wait!” You stand up.

He freezes up, his hand on the door handle. “Don’t…” you freeze up. Unsure of what you’re about to do. What you’re about to let happen.

“Don’t go.”

He turns back to you, swallowing hard.

“You said… you won’t hurt me.” You breathe. “Y/N..” he trails off. Looking down at the ground. “I want you to do it.” You look up at him. His heart thumps in his chest and he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between you again. His lips are on yours before you have time to change your mind. He returns himself between your legs, exposing himself once more.

He presses the tip of his cock at your entrance. Looking down at you. He makes sure you’re wet enough, pressing himself inside of you. He tries to go slow but seeing you wince. He lowers himself into you. Covering your mouth and bracing himself before you have a chance to make any noise of protest. Thrusting himself inside of you. Your eyes widen and you cry into his hand but he shushes you, whispering into your ear to reassure you that it’ll only hurt for a minute.

And that fast, your virginity is gone. You’d given it to the person who hurt you the very most.

You look up at him. Eyes full of tears.

He finally moves his hand.

“Phillip.” You breathe. Hearing his full name come out of your mouth is foreign.

You wince as he slides out of you, thrusting back into you. “I trust you to take my virginity.” He clenches his eyes shut.

“But if you betray me again.” You whisper. “It will be me who kills you this time.” You look up at him.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, picking up his pace and thrusting deeper into you. Angling just right to hit that spot inside of you that has you crumbling. “You’re not going to have to do that. I can fix this.” He breathes. “I can’t take it back but I can be better. I swear.” He mumbles. Hips rocking lazily into yours. “I’ll show you.” He grits his teeth. The weight of him above you overwhelms you. You have to remind yourself why he’s there. Not to hurt you. But to make you feel good. You hold back all of the racing thoughts by focusing on the way he feels sliding into you. You can feel him pulsing against you, throbbing against your gummy walls. You swallow him up, clamping tight around him. It’s the most intense pleasure Phillip has ever felt. Ever.

The pleasure is white hot and it settles into your lower stomach, his too. Like an oncoming tidal wave. About to wash away all of the pain and hurt.

Each thrust he takes into you, you forget a little more. How could he make you feel so good but have hurt you so bad? Your lips part as he glides into your spongy spot, a gasp leaving your lips as your thighs start to shake beneath him. He knows he’s got you cornered. He’s going in for the kill.

You shake and whine. Mewling out his name and pleas. You’re panting out how good he feels inside of you and he’s so close to falling apart, he feels like he’s going to implode. He raises himself up, taking deeper thrusts into that spot that you like. He looks down at you. Seeing your lips slightly parted. Sweat forming at your hairline. It throws him into a daze. How pretty you are and how you’re letting him fuck you, you let him take your virginity and as far as he knows, you hate him. You wanted him dead. You take in a jagged breath, eyes going from his eyes to where the both of you now connect. Watching his cock slide in and out of you. He’s big. He stretches you out. It hurt at first but you’ve gotten used to it. You’re amazed by how fast the pain had subsided.

You claw at his back through his shirt, holding onto the fabric for dear life as he tears you to shreds.

“I’m… I- oh my god.” You inhale sharply. He clamps his hand over your mouth once more. Resting his weight on you and thrusting into you lazily. “It’s alright. Give yourself to me.” He mumbles. “Go on baby. Give it to me.”

Your eyes roll back before clamping shut. His eyes widen as you clench down around him. A gasp leaving his lips as you throb. “Oh fuck- I’m gonna cum too.” He breathes. He wraps his arm around you, holding you still and tight to him. You shake from your orgasm tearing through you. Your eyes open, going wide when he lets out a moan. You say something into his hand but he’s still got it over your mouth. His thrusts come to halt as he reaches his high and you gasp as he cums inside of you. When he finally draws his hand away from your mouth, you’re too shocked to even know what to say. He presses his lips to yours and this time, you kiss him back.

He slides out of you, hearing you gasp as he does.

He moves himself to lay beside you, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like this.” He breathes.

You choose to say nothing. Not at first. You let what just happened sink in. Your chest feeling heavy once more.

You’re an idiot for trusting him with your virginity.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “Stop overthinking. Just relax. No thoughts, it’s just you and me.” He forces you to look at him.

You nod your head.

———

A few months go by.

The task force hates to it admit it, but Graves is an important part to the team. He’s pretty much redeemed himself, but they try to keep their guard up anyways.

Soap and Graves are walking along the side of the building when they hear shoes scuffing across the floor.

“You know we all know about you and Y/N right?” Soap brings up out of the blue. Graves feels his blood going cold. “I didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Yeah. For a couple weeks now. Gaz wanted to ring your neck.” Soap laughs. “I’m the one who stopped him.” Soap sighs. “I hope you prove us all wrong. Because if you do anything to her..” he trails off. “You already know.”

“Yes I do.”

They hear the sound again but this time they decide to check it out. Surprised when they see a new recruit crowding you.

“Something going on here?” Soap mumbles.

“No. We’re fine.”

“No! I said to leave me alone!”

Graves is quick to intervene. “Woah- you heard the girl. Back off.” He gets between the both of you. “You touch her again and I’ll cut your hands off. Understand me?” He crosses his arms over his chest. Seeing the new recruit with fear in his eyes. “Come on. Taking you to Price’s office.” Soap scoffs. Grabbing a hold of his shirt and tugging him along. “You alright? He hurt you?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine.”

“Cmon, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”