#commander phillip graves x male reader

[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

pretty ol’ thing 

a/n: today one of my friends decided to judge what I was eating and now I feel bad 😀👍, anyhow enjoy some slutty graves

minors DNI

“fuck..” graves hummed to himself as he tugged on his lacy lingerie he was wearing, trying to get it to look just right in the mirror. You had been gone with work for the entire day and he was antsy- and horny. All his toys just didn’t fill him up as nicely as you did! He wanted you, and he wanted you home now.

so? He set up his phone, and put on your favorite lingerie- the outline of his weeping cock and his cockring showing through the thin fabric, the hickeys you placed on him last night peaking out, and his eyes staring right into the camera for the perfect photo to send to you

he knew you’d be angry when you came home- riled up and hard from just his photos. God he loved that idea even if it meant he might get a bit of a punishment, that’s what he wanted after all! Today he just simply didn’t want to think and getting used like a toy sounded like a perfect way to make his brain fuzzy.

he sat on his bed and waited for the sound of the key unlocking the front door; a pleasant hum rolling off his tongue when he heard you storm through the house. He knew how it would all happen. He must have done this a hundred times.

he gasped softly when you pinned him to the bed harshly, a bratty smile sliding across his lips until you had tugged aside the panty part of his perfect lingerie. He could feel your hot breath against his skin and the harsh burn of you sliding in with only the prep of him trying to tease himself earlier in the day

his hands ached at how you had pinned them behind his back, his lip almost bloody just from how hard he was biting down- your thrusts made him feel like he was choking on your length in his throat- his eyes hurt from rolling back and yet he just wanted more and more and more. He begged and begged for more until he couldn’t even think of a word, the start of his release creeping up on him and making him whine. He could feel you abusing his prostate, it made him gasp and groan.

a wet spot of pre had formed in his lingerie, and his blonde hair all messy by the time you pulled his cockring off, making him cum all over the sheets with a pitiful whine at the mere stimulation. His mind was starting to get foggy and dizzy, words tumbling out with spaces in between and his southern accent punctuated by moans, whimpers, and mewls. He could barely think straight until you painted his gummy walls white, his body shivering in bliss when you finally pulled out and let him catch his breath.

he was such a brat.

[saintship]

Can i have a prompt #17 with Graves and a tm reader with a lik spice on the side?

Prompt #17 - “Don’t doubt yourself.”

My fics have been a little LAZY recently so this is my attempt at regaining my former glory, I haven’t written for Graves in a hot minute so I had to resurface some feelings lol

Also, I’ve never written mlm before, so if there’s anything that’s particularly off-putting, irritating, inconsiderate, etc, please drop a comment, also I didn’t really mention the fact they’re trans except for one part if you squint, I didn’t know if it was necessary to outright mention it, ALSO the spice is very mild I hope that’s okay :,)

Thank you!

Phillip Graves x tm!Reader - Snowed in

Warnings: description of injury, Gaz possibly being Graves’ gay awakening, internalized homophobia, suggestions of Graves’ racist actions, mild spice, some angst

To be a part of Price’s task force—to be an operator—was to be a team player. No matter what, no matter how genius your idea may be, no matter how good you are at whatever risky bullshit you’re into, you are never on your own until someone says so. This was articulated to Phillip Graves. But there was a reason he ran his own company instead working for one. There was something bold inside him; something demanding and mean. He used it to build Shadow Company, but that didn’t change the fact that his nature was what stranded him by himself in the first place.

You knew from the day you met him that he had walls up that may never come down for the rest of his life. Those traces of insecurity and fear that shot from him in the form of sharp words and trickling bigotry. He was good at ordering. Good at explosives.

Bad at people.

It was warm in the safehouse that the 141, Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, and one of his Shadows were laying low after your ammunition ran thin, and Gaz was grazed badly through the gaps of his vest. You sat at his side while the others gathered themselves, inspecting the wound. Gaz stripped to his bare torso, revealing a sizable chunk missing from just above his hip. The flesh was torn irregularly, and you struggled to find a solution that would avoid infection.

You heard Graves murmur to one of the Shadows,

“Go on.”

He spoke to his men like they were still in training, his tone a smooth blend of authoritative and encouraging. Sometimes you wondered if it was a bad thing that they’d follow his word without a second thought.

The Shadow gently replaced your spot beside him and began working on the wound, his medic badge partially torn from the rock face they had scaled to reach the cabin.

“You look surprised.” Graves’ low voice caught your attention. Your eyes met before he returned his gaze to the Shadow medic, his arms crossed.

“Maybe a little.” You muttered.

“I’m not that cruel, Sergeant.” The smile that he flashed was a dangerous one. His teeth a crystal white, his incisors pointed like a malinois’.

“So you are cruel—a little.” You reply.

“This is war, Sergeant.” He answered evenly, but he could never hide that underlying bite of defensiveness. ‘I’m right, you’re wrong.’

You tilted your head in resignation.

“This is war.”

Graves’ ego was effortless to satiate. He walked away without another smart comment.

“Getting friendly, hermano?”

Alejandro fidgeted with a combat knife where he sat on the tattered couch, his free arm laying on the backrest.

“Not everyone will hate the men that you do.” Rudy chided from beside him.

Your quiet laugh made Alejandro bristle.

“Oye, cuándo dije eso?”

“You’re practically fantasizing with that thing.” Rudy pointed out Alejandro’s knife.

“I..don’t trust him.”

“We know.” You commented. “But he helped Farah, why not Las Almas?”

“Urzikstan does not have a history with America the way Mexico does..” Rudy pointed out. “Graves was born in Texas, he was probably taught all kinds of shit that made him like that.”

It was true; Graves’ file revealed he had never left his hometown until he joined the military. He grew up in the kind of place where the horses and cows outnumbered the people.

“Maybe he’s just the kind of guy that can’t come home from work.”

Your words surprised you.

“What do you get defending him?” Alejandro retorted. “He’s not a good guy.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I think I do.”

As Alejandro stood from his previous position, you heard your name, turning to see Graves leaning in the doorway with one arm on the wooden frame and the other hand having a thumb hooked in his vest. He always stood like that; his hands just had to be grasping something. It made your mouth feel dry.

“One of you, come help me get our truck out of the ditch.” He called.

You heard Alejandro’s scoff and muttering as you crossed the room.

“Thanks.” Graves muttered as he turned to lead you through the snow to the ditch.

“How’d it get in the ditch, exactly?” You spoke, your breath a mist of air in front of your lips.

“Whatever dipshit that was in the driver’s seat left it in neutral.”

“That—might have been me.”

Graves glanced at you, his steps faltering.

“I’m fucking with you.” You murmur.

He just shook his head, that glowing smile flashing again.

You both came upon the trucks, the back two tires settled in the ditch while the front two stayed on the flat ground.

“Who’s pushing?”

“Where I’m from, it’s whoever asks that.” You didn’t miss his grin as he opened the driver’s side door.

“I’m sure you’re not making that up.”

“I’m not..” He laughed a bit through his words, and it made you dizzy. “It’s true..”

“You got a lot of experience doing dumb shit with trucks?”

“You could say that..” Graves’ smile hadn’t dropped. You wanted to keep going, to savor his expression, but your boots carried you behind the truck, and you waited for the wheels to turn before pushing up.

“Don’t let up!”

You heard his shout over the roar of the engine, and tried to steady yourself. But the ice was slick with mud, the soles of your boots providing little traction as you clung to the back bumper.

“Is it moving?” You call to him.

“It’s-"

His words were cut short by a sickening sputter of the engine.

“Get out! Get out of there, the battery’s dead!” His shout was more desperate than you’d ever heard him.

“I can’t-" You muttered helplessly before the weight of the heavy truck pressed you to the frozen mud, the angle of the underside up against the ditch pinning you to the cold earth. The parts that stuck out had raked down your back, cutting into the vulnerable flesh.

You heard him yell your name, your first name. You heard him curse as he dropped down beside where you were trapped.

“Please tell me you’re alive.. come on, talk to me..”

“My legs.. I can’t move my..” You rasped. From the knee down, the crushing metal pinned your legs enough to render you immobile.

“Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, come here.. come on..”

His gloved hand fit into your own securely, and you had to shake off the rush in your head.

When he tried to ease you out, you couldn’t stop the groan of pain that escaped you, devolving into quick, panicked breaths. “I can’t..”

“Easy.. easy.” He had enough room to hold your upper arm steady. “It’s gonna hurt, alright? But you gotta get out from under there..”

You nod, your breath short. “Yeah.. okay..”

“I’ve got you. You hear me?”

“I hear..”

“Alright.”

This time, one his arms worked around your middle, and the warmth blooming in your ribs nearly offset the white-hot tendrils shooting up your legs and back.

Graves pulled slowly, your legs slowly inching free as you gasped and groaned in pain.

“Breathe..” Graves murmured like he was speaking to a small animal, his breath warm on your temple. “Come on.. come on, now..”

Finally, he yanked you free, the both of you partially collapsing in the filthy ditch. You try to stand, but were quickly guided to sit down.

“Hey, don’t be a hero, sit still..” Graves knelt, inspecting your back with a low whistle.

“You didn’t break anything..” You murmured. You couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Told you.. I got you..”

You sit side by side, exhausted from the day, the adrenaline, the pain.

“Thank you.” You murmur.

Graves brought up a knee to rest his elbow on, his other hand waving you off.

“Not an issue, baby.”

When the words left his mouth, any softness in his face hardened into something else. Like he’d made himself angry.

“I-" He looked away.

“What’d you call me?” Your voice was a soft murmur.

“Nothing. I didn’t call you anything, come on..” He straightened to stand.

His expression matched yours now; flushed and confused.

“Graves.”

“I said come on!” He barked, but couldn’t get to his feet before you pulled him to sit back down.

“Sergeant..” His tone was warning. His hand covered yours where you held onto his vest. “That didn’t happen.”

“It did.”

“No.” His words were firm, but his eyes were desperate.

You slid a hand up to his shoulder. “It’s okay..”

“No! I cant-"

“But you want to.” Your eyes bore into his with an unwavering steadiness while your voice quieted to a whisper. “You want to..”

His face conveyed so many emotions, conflicting and fighting one another. He looked at your lips, and exhaled shakily.

“God dammit..”

“I know it’s hard to let go of what other people see you as. It’s okay.”

“You mean cause’ you..”

You nod.

“I—don’t know how.” He managed.

“Don’t doubt yourself like that.”

You were closer now. Close enough for the puffs of your breath to mingle with his.

“No one knows. No one..” He shakes his head, still partially in the headspace that wouldn’t let him feel anything other than bitterness.

“It’s up to you who does.” You murmur.

“Graves?”

Soap’s voice called from a few meters away, sending Graves scrambling to his feet.

“The truck pinned them, they’re hurt. Help me out.” In his fashion, he wasted no time showing his embarrassment, reverting to his wavering authority.

Soap only shook his head, but dropped down beside you. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, he got me out..” You muttered as Soap hauled you to your feet, not missing the way Graves looked away at the mention of his rescuing you.

The rest of the night was tense—your back was ripped up, your legs were sore and tender, but it was ensured that nothing was broken. For the three days left before an exfil helicopter arrived, you spent most of your time with your legs propped on the couch. It felt wrong to take up one of the only spaces to rest, to not be able to follow Graves when he walked outside to scan the surrounding hills. You felt chained in place, your only glimpses of him being his fleeting glances in your direction before he walked away again.

You almost forgot he wasn’t coming back to the base with you. He’d be going back to his own site, onto the next mission, onto the next project. It was supposed to be a short interaction between the 141 and him, but you just had to volunteer to help him move that truck. You just had to press him about it.

The sound of helicopter blades woke you up on the fourth morning, and most everyone else was moving equipment outside. You heard muffled voices.

“Graves, go help him into the heli.” Price’s gruff order sounded from outside.

“You don’t need help movin’ all that?” Graves’ tone was wavering; grasping at any excuse to keep avoiding you. You were starting to get irritated.

“You got a problem with my Sergeant?” Price retorted.

A sigh. “No, sir.”

“Right, then.”

His snow-covered boots tracked in the mud from outside, and you glanced at them before you looked at his face.

“Hey.” He didn’t meet your eyes, offering a hand to help you upright. You didn’t move.

“You’re avoiding me.” You mutter. The frustration crept up your throat.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to his side.

“We don’t have time for this.. we might never see each other again, can you focus on that?” His eyes caught your frustration and reflected it right back in your face.

“You can’t brush this off, Graves.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” He snapped, walking to the door. “You act like you know me because I fucked up back there, but you don’t. This conversation-"

You hauled yourself to your feet, the pain making you wince. You straightened anyway, walking over until you were in his face again.

“What if you didn’t fuck up? You ever think about that?” You muttered.

His chest rose and fell with angry breath.

“Why’re you doin’ this to me?”

His soft tone caught you off guard, and your shoulders that had been tensed relaxed downward again.

“Because you don’t deserve to live like this. No one does.”

Your hand had found its way to his upper arm unintentionally, but he hadn’t pulled away. You weren’t wearing your gloves, the warmth of your palm radiating through his sleeve and thawing the sparse snowflakes that had caught on the fabric.

“How can you be so sure?” His brow was still furrowed with stress, his body somehow lax and tensed all at once.

“I can’t.” you admit. “But I won’t let you walk away without hearing that there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Who you love is not up to the rest of the world, and that’s one of the few things you still have to yourself. So keep it close.”

His eyes searched your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. His breath quickened.

Your hand drew upward to hold his jaw in your palm. He smelled like warm linen and smoke. One of his hands crept up your back while the other settled on your cheek, all in an impossibly fast motion before he pressed a kiss to your parted lips.

You felt the anxiety and shame melt from him for a moment, your lips working in tandem. Once he had a taste for you, he couldn’t stop. He deepened the kiss with a groan, your own hands hooking into his vest and pressing your bodies together. His hand was just working under your shirt and up your stomach before the door handle turned. With his hand still under your clothes, he shut the door firmly, keeping whoever it was outside. You heard a vague, confused voice, but most of your brain was clouded by his hand moving over your front, up your waist and ribs that were still wrapped in gauze.

You reluctantly pulled your lips from his, breathing heavily.

“Graves..”

“Oi! What the fuck is goin’ on, I’m breaking the door down in three!”

Ghost’s voice caused you to gently move Graves’ hand from under your shirt, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pulling the door open and putting on your best limp. Ghost’s eyes told you he didn’t buy it for a second, but he stayed quiet as Graves trailed after you with flushed cheeks.

You were the last to board the helicopter, turned around by your shoulder before stepping up to see Graves. He seemed almost shaken; but placed his hands around one of yours before setting off back to the safe house. Looking in your hand, you saw the scrawled digits of a phone number on a scrap of a report sheet. You held it the entire flight back.

[mrsphillipgraves]

touch starved Phillip Graves x GN!Reader headcanons <3

he definitely struggles with physical affection at first, you’re the one who initiates physical affection during the start of your relationship, (subtle things, like holding hands, or giving him a pat on the shoulder) even just that is so comforting to him, now imagine when you give him a hug for the first time, I imagine this man hasn’t been hugged properly for years, he would be melting in your touch, he would also be thinking about it and smiling for the next few days.

he would slowly start getting used to it, he would start getting used to you hugging him whenever he’s under a lot of stress, or just simply holding his hand and speaking to him whenever he starts feeling a bit overwhelmed about things

eventually, he finds himself seeking your comfort and affection whenever he’s under any sort of distress, and because of that, he would slowly start feeling more and more comfortable with physical affection, he would be the one initiating the hugs, and trust me, he would be hugging you ALL the damn time, would not be able to catch a break. aside from hugging, he would always be touching you in some way, if you’re sitting together, he most likely has his hand on your shoulder, or resting on your thigh,

when you two are walking together he always has his hand around your waist or is holding your hand tightly. he is also definitely coming up behind you whenever you’re cooking and hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder, and you bet a lot of conversations would happen while he is too.

he is also practically begging you to sit on his lap, he loves it when you rest your head on his chest and lean into him, it makes him feel so at home and comfortable, gives him cuteness aggression towards you too, coming to that, if you’re ticklish, he is 100% tickling you.

he is sitting next to you no matter where y’all are, if you two are somehow not sitting next to eachother, he will come over and sit next to you, he wants to be close to you at all times.

he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck whenever you guys are cuddling, or just hugging, it’s his favorite thing to do, he loves the smell of your perfume too, he loves everything about you at this point.

forehead kisses are a must, he will be giving you forehead kisses whenever, it’s the sweetest thing ever, let’s say he is heading out somewhere, leaving to get groceries? “I’ll be back in a bit sweetheart” (*forehead kiss*)

he’s the type to play with your hair, tucking loose strands in, or just overall running his hands through your hair, he loves the feel of it.

100% kissing your cheek at all times, he loves how soft your cheeks are. Definitely would blush if you kissed him on the cheeks tho, or most importantly pinched his cheeks. Red like a tomato.

this man also 100% likes touching your fingers whenever you hold hands, he is definitely moving his thumb half the time because he loves the feel of your hand wrapping around his, it’s just so sweet to him.

most importantly,

he loves you for who you are, he takes care of you, he protects you, you’re the most valuable person on earth to him, he is always so soft around you, you’re the one person on earth he feels safe around, you’re his home, you mean everything to him.

when Phillip Graves loves, he loves deeply and truly.

end of post ♡.

[gildedkrone]

Could you maybe write a Jealous!GhostxMaleReader...maybe Ghost gets jealous of Reader and Graves?? Dunno just want to see a jealous Ghost....I like how you write Ghost...it doesn't have to be Graves, it could be a member of Shadow Conpany...

- ☁️

Don't listen, I'm near 🔞

My first request, so I thought I would put a bit more effort into this fic than usual. It ended being written from Graves' POV? So I'm not sure if it's exactly what you wanted but I hope this is somewhere along the lines of the request :3

Relationships: Ghost x bottom!Male Reader Synopsis: A jealous Ghost fucks you into oblivion and Graves hears every single bit of it. Contains gratituous smut. A/N: NA Master List

“Hey there, sweetheart, need a hand?”

Phillip Graves, that was his name, right? Commander of the Shadow soldiers currently milling about the base as part of a joint operation between the 141 and Shadow Company. You follow his eyes to the crates of beer in the storeroom.

“Oh, Graves, right? Yea sure!” You heave two crates of beer off the floor and Graves trails his eyes over your way your shirt exposes your chest and abdomen with each exertion of your body.

He is not salivating. He is just admiring another soldier preparing a feast as part of the collaboration, a dinner and night of celebrations. Nothing untoward and nothing scandalous. Your request for him to grab the drinks jolts him out of his naughty daydream and he nods with as much grace the Shadow is known for. That is, not much.

The men are gathered in the rec room when both you and Graves return with alcohol. Soap and Gaz help themselves to a bottle each before you can put the crates down. Graves imitates your actions and places his crates down.

Ghost is sitting in an armchair all by himself, while Grave’s soldiers are fanned out around the room. Some eating, some drinking, mostly engaged in conversation or tabletop games. You crack open a bottle and he has to resist grabbing choking that sinuous neck and the bobbing of your throat. Ghost is nowhere at his chair and once he reestablishes visual contact, Ghost is standing by your side.

“You want a bottle, Ghost?”

The masked freak shakes his head and the smile on your face makes him green with jealousy. He wishes it was him on the other side of the smile.

“Of course, the LT himself doesn’t drink beer.” You dug around your pockets and reveal a metal flask. “Bourbon, straight from Kentucky.”

Ghost rumbles something affectionate and takes the flask. The mask is raised up to his nose bridge and Graves catches a sight of the pink lips and perfect teeth.

“Thanks, corporal. Appreciate your efforts.”

“Anytime, LT. Anything for you.” The skeleton hand on your shoulder lingers for too long for Graves’ liking.

The man looks up from you to meet Grave’s gaze. Inside, he spots something feral and territorial curling in the lieutenant’s eyes.

Stay. Away.

---

The rest of the night goes smoothly. Graves gets to spend time with you on the dance floor and his hand even wrapped around your waist at one point. You don’t seem to be too phased by the close proximity to him and he flashes a grin, all teeth and vibes.

He catches the boring gaze of Ghost, intensifying each time he went anywhere near you. Fuck him, he doesn’t own you and Graves is free to flirt with whoever he wants. The skull man is free to kick rocks if he doesn’t like it. Eventually, you are too tired to continue partying and excuse yourself from the dance floor. Graves watches as you say something to the lieutenant and his eyes are overcame by something fond and soft before a pat by a skeleton hand sends you leaving the room.

It's boring without you on the dance floor and Graves leaves his men in favour of turning in for the night. The base is huge and Graves stumbles around, trying to find his room and it is just bad luck Ghost is who he sees first.

“Ah, lieutenant, mind showing me the way to my room?”

Ghost doesn’t seem to be too pleased to see him, judging by the arms crossed but mainly, the eyes give away his ire and displeasure at seeing the other man.

“Down the hallway. Room 103.”

Graves thanks the man not before he is slipped a radio.

“You left this at the party.”

Wait, what? The last time he checked, the radio was still affixed to the holster on his arm. Before he can object, Ghost is gone.

---

“Ah, faster! Michaelo!”

The room is dim and the man lying on the bed touches himself gently to the sounds of porn on his phone. Fuck, Graves swore when the woman in the video takes the monster dick fully. His dick is semi hard and his hand gently strokes the organ to nurse it to full hardness.

“Shit!” Graves takes off his headphones. That isn’t—

“Ngh! Fuck, it’s not—” His phone clatters onto the floor as he jumps off the bed in search for the source of the sound. Sounds of a man being pleasured are definitely not from the video he is watching. His search stops at the radio Ghost passed him earlier. The green light flashes periodically, a sign the radio is receiving a signal.

A moan.

Not just any, but yours. He rushes to the table and grabs the radio. Raspy moans of desire. There is no mistaking it, that is you on the other side of the radio. Who the fuck is doing this!

“Ah, ah! Fuck, slow down!”

If he closes his eyes, his mind fantasizes the scene. You are all drunk on pleasure, mouth open as a thin trail of drool slicks down your cheek. Someone, a mystery person, bringing you waves of pleasure. Their hands? Or their mouth?

It should be him. It’s all so wrong. He should be turning off the radio and reporting whoever was doing this. But his mind taunts him with finding out just who you were with.

Graves retreats to the bed and lies down. His hand creeps ever closer to his dick and your moans are there again. The radio is jammed against his ear and his dick jumps at the breathy and sinuous moan. It tortures his soul to hear it and not be the one eliciting it.

His hand is no longer under his control and starts stroking.

“Fuck! Shit, what has gotten into you!” Sounds of wet slapping noises punctuate your groans into pauses. The other person doesn’t say anything and Graves is so fucking turned on, it hurts. Pre is all over his hands and the sound of his hands are filthy, but not as much as those in the radio.

Then, he hears it. A whimper, all soft and delectable. His hand grips the base of his dick and arrests his building climax. Shit! His favourite porn didn’t come anywhere close to the performance you are putting on in a room somewhere.

He wants to cum just as you do with your mysterious partner.

“If you—ah!—keep doing this, I won’t LAST ah!” The duvet is in between his teeth as his hands are moving at a feverous pace against his morals.

“Have you learnt your lesson, yet?” Graves stills his hand. Mr mystery is speaking.

“Yes! Please, I will be your good boy! I—ngh—will stay away from him!”

“That’s a good boy. Taking me so perfectly; I can feel you spasming like a cheap whore. Are you close, pet?”

His traitorous mind paints a picture of another man railing you hard and fast, bitching you in the process into a mindless whore who lived for cock and cum. Who, dares, to claim you?

“Yes, I’m—so—fucking close! P-please!” He grunts at the desperation in your voice to climax.

His finger scrambles to turn the knob on the radio to max volume and then, he can hear so much more. The faint creaking of the bed under the powerful thrusts of your partner, the whines and whimpers escaping your mouth driving him crazy and the reserved grunts of the man. Wet sounds of slapping and something obscene fills the room and Graves thumbs his dick roughly. The burn is something real and he desperately wants to know just who it was.

Who was bringing you so much pleasure, dear cock addled slut?

“Say it. Say that you want to cum.”

“Mmmh! Please, let me cum! I want to cum!”

“Say that you are my little cum addict.”

“I’m—” A sharp thrust breaks your speech and you groan. “Y-your cum addict!”

“Good boy. This is what you wanted, right? Flirting with that poor excuse of a man to rile me up. Well, this is your reward, love.” And a sharp squeal at what Graves imagines to be a bite on the neck.

Flirting with him? Who can it be, to be upset at Graves?

“Yes! Yes, I-I am all yours! Yours to use, sir!”

Sir? His hands pause and grip his prick loosely. Was it a nickname, or something more?

“That’s what I like to hear. You need to be bitched more often, love.”

“Yes! Yes, I want to be bitched! Fuck, please, ah!”

The knot in his abdomen is tight and squirming as Graves lets himself imagine the mystery man to be him. Your tight ass squeezing him hungrily like a sleeve thirsting for cum and all he has to give. The pillow fluffs at the commander’s head falling back into it.

“So beautiful and all for me. Do it, cum for me, sweetheart.”

That’s the cue and Graves’ eyes are closed in a grimace as he times his finish with yours.

“Ah, yes sir! Thank you! I—fuck!—” And the noisy squeal and cries of a man drowning in orgasmic bliss spearheaded by his lover’s dick. Graves chokes a cry as he came with a shout and a spray of cum over his heaving chest.

The orgasm leaves him boneless and he struggles to collect his thoughts. The radio flops onto the bed as a sweaty arm rests on an equally sweated chest. The radio is silent and the light is extinguished; no more transmission by whoever is doing this. He won’t admit it, but this ranks high on his naughty escapades.

Fuck, he really shouldn’t have done this. The mess on his cooling chest is hardening into sludge and he swipes a finger through it. Grabbing a bathrobe, a shower is in order to get rid of the stains of his scandalous voyeurism.

---

He steps out of the room into an empty corridor and heads for the communal toilets. Pass room 120 and the door to the room opens without warning. Graves slows and Ghost steps out from the room still dressed in his combat fatigues. His gloves, however, are gone and Graves sneaks a look at the exposed hand. Black nails? Maybe the man truly was a freak. He looks closer and there’s something dripping? A viscous cloudy liquid coating the thick fingers and Graves can’t stop his mouth from running itself.

“Howdy, you’ve got something on your hand, lieutenant.”

Ghost’s eyes remain impassive and he raises his hands to look at them and back at Graves. A glint in his eyes is all the warning he gets and Ghost is breaking eye contact. Then, those hands are wiping against the dark fabric of his tactical jacket and—

White and milky liquid separate into strings upon contact as they stain the pristine clothing.

That is—

“You look shocked, commander Graves. Do you need a medic?”

“Is that … cum?”

Soap’s hearty greeting stumps Graves as the sergeant rounds the corner and he makes a face at the sight of the Shadow commander. Sidling up mischievously to the American, he lobs an arm around Graves and pulls him close under a gaze Graves would describe as victorious belonging to the masked man.

Like a roman victor on a pedestal while luxuriating in his opponent’s defeat.

Soap chuckles. “This is why we don’t mess with the LT’s property, Graves. Did you truly think the corporal would be interested in you?”

“In someone who can’t even use his dick right while LT can do it all with just his arm?”

Mortification and humiliation burns and scorches his face.

---

Ghost wasn’t truly worried when he saw Graves flirting with you all night. You smiled and assured him you could handle the grabby Shadow commander and your lover nods, trusting your judgement but still hanging around to intervene if the bastard tried anything. Your cheery disposition and innocence was a fire drawing in the moths of military men and Ghost stayed to keep an eye on the man.

---

Graves swallows and the taste in his mouth all night—he knows what it is now. Ghost pulls up his mask to lick a line across his still dirty fingers.

His mind conjures an image of you, a man in the throes of desire and thoroughly debauched by the fist in your ass and your dick, angry and leaking in protest. Why would a man be lost in the height of rapture ever be interested in him?

Those lips mouth something. Sweet.

Total defeat.

[beautifulblooms]

Meetings are hard - Phillip Graves x Male Reader SMUT

I want to degrade this man so fucking bad so uh, yeah, this is literally just humiliating him repeatedly. Enjoy!

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Dear god, this man, always well put together and looks like he knows what he’s doing. But he’s ruined as soon as he realizes his boyfriend can see him in it. (Y/n) had always enjoyed teasing Phillip whenever he put on formal wear, but he loved it. Loved seeing his commander of a lover in things that were only worn occasionally. It gave him a sense of pride to see him in something so flattering. But it came to a head when he needed to attend meetings with the Shadows or other. All (Y/n) saw was another opportunity to tease him and make him struggle to control himself.

“A-as for our next- ha- next mission, we’ll be going to Urzikstan- and helping the ULF with some… some Konni group.” Every second was a nightmare for Phillip, one word was barely out of his mouth before he wanted to moan and whine like a slut. No matter how much (Y/n) turned up the vibrator stuck inside him, he refused to crack to show that man an ounce of power over him in front of his Shadows. But damnit it was hard to keep it together, to not just walk across the room and demand that his boyfriend fix the problem he started. And all (Y/n) could do was grin from the other side of the meeting room, his eyes locked forward and a hand holding his head up and the other in the pocket of his jacket, holding the remote control to the vibrator.

“We’ll be- ngh, be heading out in three days at 0900, be…be ready Shadows.” With that final white knuckle grip to the table, Phillip pulled back only to swiftly grab a file folder and bring it over to cover his crotch, where there wasn’t a very obvious tent, but it was surely enough for someone to notice it. And that someone was already very away how turned on Phillip was, and he felt the same.

(Y/n) eagerly followed the commander out of the meeting room and gave his ass a playful smack once they turned down the hallway leading to the barracks. “Someone’s struggling to keep his composure, want me to help you out there, commander Graves?”

Phillip couldn’t help but let out a muffled moan at (Y/n)’s smack to his ass, and a small groan at his teasing, his eyes flickering over to his boyfriend for a moment. “Not funny, Lieutenant. You started this problem, and you better damn well end it.”

The threat was empty coming from him, and they both knew it, so (Y/n) simply laughed a little before grabbing Phillip by his arm and pulling him into their shared room of the barracks, pinning him to the wall with a smirk. “So what? You want me to take that vibrator out and fuck you myself? That’s cute coming from you, sweetheart.”

“Stop teasing me (Y/n), I know you wanna fuck me, you’ve been a bitch all day just leaving this- ngh, in me.” Right as he complained, the other man turned up the strength of the vibrator, determined to get Phillip to crack under the pleasure, it always worked, what was new today?

“Desperate little whore, just begging for someone to fuck him properly, but only good boys get what they want. So, ask nicely.” His words held a sharp tone, (Y/n) knew how to get what he wanted, and he gripped Phillip’s jaw to turn his eyes forward again, the vibrations getting stronger once more as his leg pushed between the other man’s to rub against his crotch.

The commander’s breath hitched as he let out a small whine, feeling (Y/n)‘s thigh rubbing against his dick through his pants, something about being treated so humiliatingly was always a turn on, always made him want to be good. “P-please, sir…fuck me, ill- ah~ I’ll be good.”

“Now that’s a good boy.” (Y/n)‘s words came out husky as he pulled his leg back and instead grabbed Phillip by his hips, pushing him further into the room until his legs hit the bed, and he consequently fell down on top of it, his dick leaving a small tent in his pants, even hard he was still adorably small. “Spread ‘em, let me see you.”

Phillip followed the order without much hesitance, his legs spreading as one hand went down to start unbuckling his belt, only for it to be slapped away by (Y/n)’s hand with a small tut. “Don’t be greedy, you’ll get what you want, be patient.” The other man let out a small whine as his hips bucked up slightly into his boyfriend’s touch, it took everything in him to not just flip the two of them over and ride him like there was no stopping him. (Y/n) smirked slightly ad his own hands moved to undo Phillip’s belt and pants, pulling them down slowly and teasingly along with his boxers, the sight of his small but stiff as a rock dick made him smile.

“Excited now, aren’t we?” Phillip turned his head away in embarrassment at the teasing before one of (Y/n)‘s hands came up to grip his jaw and turn his head back. “Look at me when I take what’s mine.” The other man didn’t waste a second before grasping Phillip’s small cock in his hand and starting to jerk him off, his movements quick and slightly rough, knowing full well that it was only making the vibrator stuck inside him worse to deal with.

“Ha- (Y-Y/n) please~.” Phillip’s hips bucked up into (Y/n)‘s hand, his walls clenching around the vibrator bullet inside him as his eyes fluttered slightly, one hand coming up to grasp his boyfriend’s upper arm, trying to control himself with the pleasure. The blonde commander was so close yet so far, and he knew damn well that his orgasm was in the other man’s hands, quite literally with (Y/n)’s hand gripping and moving along his length with harsh strokes.

“Awww, is someone getting desperate?” The other man taunted Phillip with a smirk, leaning down to press a few kisses to his neck while nipping at his skin. The hand wrapped around his boyfriend’s dick started to move faster while the other slipped up his dress shirt and started to pinch his nipples gently through the fabric, eliciting more moans and whines from Phillip.

The commander’s head fell back against the pillows as he tried to hold himself together, even as his hips bucked up into the hand on his cock and the vibrator still buzzing violently inside him. “(Y/n)- sir please…’m so close.” Almost to accentuate his point, Phillip’s hips bucked up again as he started to clench around the vibrator, which only seemed to make things worse for him as his orgasm got closer.

“Then use this little dick of yours like you should and cum for me.” The order was harsh and husky against the blonde man’s neck as his boyfriend continued to jerk him off, a small smirk on his face as he heard Phillip let out a louder moan while his hips stuttered and he came, shooting a load across his hand and chest. “That’s a good boy.”

Pulling his hand back with a small laugh, (Y/n) let his tongue come out for a moment before he got a better idea and moved his hand closer to Phillip’s mouth and looked at him sternly. “Clean up your mess, slut.” The harshness of the order nearly set the commander off for a moment before he opened his mouth and leaned forward, his tongue gently cleaning off his boyfriend’s hand.

“And I wonder how the Shadows can be scared of you, you’re just my little toy, ain’t ya, baby?” Phillip’s eyes were half-lidded as he looked up at (Y/n), his tongue slowly pulling back into his mouth as his head fell back against the pillows before speaking. “Yes…your toy, sir.”

[jad3s1]

Phillip Graves x fem!Reader (smut!!)

cw: smut with like no plot, graves being a bitch like usual, this is like my first smut ever…. Aftercare!! and masturbation(male) not proofread🙏

NSFW under cut!!

“Listen sweetheart, for all I know you are a great fighter and you work great out on the field but I don't know if I'm comfortable with you running around out there getting shot at out there” Graves tried to reason with you. “I am literally one of your best soldiers'' you pout as you look up at him. currently you were arguing with your captain about going on the next mission, it was almost a lost cause. It was like recently everytime you tried to go on missions he would stop you and tell you that it was too dangerous and that he found someone to take your place. you were always stuck back at base while everyone else got to have fun.

you were starting to think he was thinking you were weak. You were relatively shorter and smaller but just as physically capable as everyone else of the shadows. “You are very strong sweetheart, trust me I know better than anyone. but i think i'd be better if you stayed back on this one.” he said as he was getting more annoyed at your fighting back. your eyebrows furrowed and your eye slightly twitched. “I'm a part of the shadows just as much as everyone else! Why aren't I allowed to go with them? it's not like i'm slowing you down.” you say abc with anger and disappointment in your voice. “I'm your commander and you listen to me. now get back to the training hall soldier. I don't want to hear another word about you whining about this topic, understand?” he said sternly with a mean and cold look on his face. “Yes sir.” you say quietly before turning on your heels and walking to the training hall with the rest of the shadows.

after a few hours of training you walked to your dorm and closed the door after you, —changing into a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt— you went to your desk and started watching a show on your computer, american psycho really came in clutch when you wanted to get your mind off things, even if you never found it that scary. in the middle of the movie there was a knock at your door, you paused the movie and vent to open your door. graves stood there in more casual clothes, he looked at you before speaking up. “Can I come in? I want to talk to you,” he said. you sighed and had no choice but letting him in, you both sat down on your bed and there was a silent moment before graves spoke up again. “listen… I'm sorry for yelling at you, that was wrong and I know you're upset and I want to make it up to you, my sweet girl.” he spoke softly as he put a hand over your thigh and you looked up from the ground and into his eyes. “Will you let me go on the mission?” You said in an almost hopeful voice. “I was thinking something different… Just trust me, okay?” he said careful petting your upper thigh, all of this was known to you. you hadn't even had your first kiss. “Have you ever done something like this sweetheart?” he said with his slightly southern accent dripping from his words as he looked into your eyes. “n-no..” you admit shyly as blush spreads across your cheeks. “such a good girl, all for me.” he said as he cupped your cheek in his hands and turned your face to his, “ive… ive never had my first kiss either..” you shamefully answer. "That's okay baby, I'll teach you okay?” he said in a soft, almost baby type of voice. “Just close your eyes and be a good girl for me,okay baby?” he instructed, as you did what he said and closed your eyes he pulled you into a kiss and as his lips touched yours he tilted his head and gently started deepening the kiss.you let out a whine as if you were desperate for more, as you whined into the kiss he held the back of your head so you couldn't move. he bit your bottom lip and as you opened your mouth he entered with is tongue, and as his warm tongue danced along yours you could taste the sweetness of him through the kiss. once you finally pulled apart, breathlessly. a sting of saliva parted between you, the hand on the back of your head pulled you back into him and as you two were kissing his hand started inching closer into your inner thigh. you whined again, this time it was more of a soft moan than anything. smiling as you pulled a part he said looking into your lustful eyes “you're doing so good for me. you wanna keep being a good girl for me?” He spoke soft and slow. you nodded your head “okay, get onto my lap sweet girl” He patted his thigh, and you crawled obediently into his lap sitting facing him.

A blush spread on your face as you could feel the material of his jeans rub you against your silk pajama shorts. you started to feel a tingly sensation, you felt it before when he was looking so deeply into your eyes but never really thought of it before. you subconsciously began softly grinding against his leg as you hid your face in his shoulder. “Good girl” Graves muttered as his hands found their way to your hips as he gently guided you to go a little harder. your pussy started to get wet as your moans were muffled by Graves shoulder. “you want me to help you through your orgasm baby girl?” he murmured as he kissed your neck. you whined in response,and one of the hands he had on your hips moved from your hips and into your shorts. pussing past you white cotton panties he rubbed soft care full circles on your clit, after a few circles he moved his hand down and slightly teased your entrance before slowly pushing in one of his fingers, you moaned as tears filled up your eyes when he pussed in the second one and they started moving inside your gummy walls.after a few thrusts and you desperately whimpering, you finally manage to pull your head out of teh crook of his neck “nhg, plea- please im gonna- ah fuck” you moan out. he pumps his fingers faster into your dripping pussy “its okay baby, be a good girl and cum for me” he cooed at you. as he did, you finally came. as the orgasm ripped through you you let out a slutty whimper\moan.

Afterwards he laid you down on the bed and cleaned you off with a warm, wet towel. He found you a fresh pair of panties and tucked you into bed, pulling the sheets over you and kissing your forehead. He sat next to your bed stroking your head and whispering sweet nothings into your hair until you finally fell asleep. Once you did he got up and went to his own room.

when he was in his own room he changed into sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt, once he laid down in his own bed he felt his cock was painfully hard as he remembered your sweet moans. he reached a hand down his pant and softly palmed himself through his boxers, he finally after some time pulled his cock into his hand and started pumping it fast up and down as he let out the filthiest groan you will ever hear. he jerked himself off tho the memory of your soft moans and whimpers. Once he finally came he was a panting mess.

He laid his head down on his pillow and closed his eyes as he fell asleep with the cold air hitting his body that was not covered by the sheets.

[heissobabygirl]

Graves X Male!Top!Shadow!Reader

A/N: hey guys, noticed a lack of male reader Graves fanfiction so I'm here to (hopefully) kinda fill that void! Hope you all like it. This took me like a week but I love the song it's based around, I def recommend listening to it during the read if you haven't already! This was only read by my sister and she told me I HAD to publish it, so I am. Sorry if there are mistakes. Feel free to request if you like my writing. I'm only writing COD at the moment and I only write male reader (sorry ladies ;-;). Enjoy!!

The following contains ANGST and HORNY

DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE THOSE THINGS

Okay byyyye :)

Song to play while reading: Granite by Sleep Token

-------

Sulfur on your breath

Granite in my chest

You will never have to talk about it

You never want to talk about it

You tried justifying your actions in your head as you heaved the scolding hot tank lid up.

"Graves!" You called, smoke immediately filling your senses due to the proximity of the fire. It burned your nose and esophagus, causing your throat to constrict. "Phillip!" You can't help but go into a coughing fit. The cackles of embers ignited by the explosion seemingly mocking you. Taunting you for saving the man who created this mess for himself. Why were you bailing him out again?

Squinting your eyes and taking a deep breath of oxygen you dive into the opening. You fumble blindly through the ocean of smoke, trying to feel any material other than the metal interior of the tank.

Your hand brushes against what feels like the nylon threads of a tactical vest. Looping your fingers through the straps you pull with every muscle your body can spare.

Your body aches, the lack of oxygen dizzying your mind. You step to the top of the tank, heaving the body up with the force of everything you had left: adrenaline and spite. You pick the man up, hoping down, feet once again finding cement. You drag him a good distance away from the burning war machine, slumping him gently on the ground.

"Commander." Your voice is hoarse from coughing, "Commander don't you fucking give up on me." You straddle him, his blonde hair dark from soot and ash. It's smeared across his face, bonding with beads of sweat against his skin.

Your fingers tread down the path of his vest, finding the velcro belt to rip it off of him. Throwing it to the side, his neck is also covered in the black soot, almost like it was a growing infection. Drops of midnight sweat dripping down the dips of his muscles. Ripping off a glove with your teeth, you check his pulse. It's fading fast, the thrum of his heart dying as his chest fills less and less with each inhale. You know what you have to do.

You place his hands on his chest, locking them in place. Returning to his side you tilt his head up, pinching his nose to close it off. You place your hands over his, the sweat hanging to your skin as the warmth of his radiates through your palms.

–

Fury too damn late

Reason dislocated

Soon you'll never have to talk about it

You never want to talk about it

Your voices ring with animosity throughout Grave's home office.

"Don't tell me how to do my Goddamn job, Soldier!" His voice was stern, his gaze going from a soft expression to the deadly and stormy as he grew more agitated.

"Soldier? Really? Were not on the fucking field, Phillip!" You snark back, shooting him a vehement glare of your own. He just stares you down, his gaze burning into your own as you two clash.

"Oh, right! How could I be so stupid. You, Phillip Graves, could NEVER be in a meaningful relationship! All you can do is keep people at arm's length with some fake authority you hold over them! Get real Phillip! If you don't cut this shit out you're gonna die alone!" You couldn't gauge his reaction, it looked the same as before.

"And you don't care…do you?" Your voice is softer this time. The words float through the air tantalizingly, striking him in the chest. The walls he built were coming down in moments, but he'd never let you know. Your brows furrowed, knitting up at the inside corners. "You don't care about me, you care about this stupid fucking job. You care about getting the mission done, pleasing people that don't even matter-" your words shrivel up and die on your tongue, just like your spirit.

You can feel tears stinging at your lash line. Rage brews in the pits of your guts, teeth grinding together to curb your urge to deck your Commander in the face. You do the only things you can, you turn to leave.

"Hey-" steps thud throughout the room, starting slowly and growing closer together the closer your hand gets to the door knob. A hand grabs your shoulder, spinning you around to look the blonde in the face. "You can say whatever the hell you want about me. But don't you dare say I don't care about you."

–

I was more than just a body in your passenger seat

You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet

I see you go half blind when you're looking at me

But I am

The music played softly through the car, drifting through the space that was nearly extinct between the both of you. Your hands on his hips, squeezing and rubbing your thumb in circles over the fabric.

The stubble of his facial hair rubs against your face, the scratch a ticklish but good feeling. His hands are around your neck, running his greedy hands wherever you may allow him.

You reach around to grip his ass, the flesh soft as he groans into your lip lock. Your hands snake back around, unbuckling his belt, running it through the loops and discarding it on the floor of your car. Your fingers make quick work of his jeans, unbuttoning them and pooling them at his thighs.

Your lips move to his neck, biting the soft skin as he jerks against you. You hold his hips still with your strong grip, kneading the flesh of hips. He mewls, the Phillip Graves mewls. "Fuuuuck." He drolls, his tone raspy.

"Can't believe you're this worked up already, Phil." He screws his eyes shut, tipping his head back.

"Shut up-" He stumbles over the words he's searching for. "You should just be happy you're getting this chance, Lutentiant." His hands grip your shoulder for stability, giving you a tight squeeze.

You hum, bringing your lips close to his ear speaking low, "Oh I'm so lucky. Fucking my Commander in my car because he couldn't wait to get home to whore himself out." You watch his throat Bob, Adam's apple moving with the action. The words coarse through him, straight to his dick. It throbs at your voice, seemingly knowing who it belongs to.

–

Between the second hand smoke and the glass on the street

You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave

You say you want me but you know

I'm not what you need

But I am

“You can say whatever the hell you want about me, but don’t you dare say I don’t care about you.” His eyes bore into your’s, creating a moment of silence that’s quickly shattered by you.

“Then maybe you should fucking act like it, Phillip.” The use of his first name makes him cringe. He hasn’t heard it from your lips in so long he forgot it was his. He spent so long, more time than you knew, clinging to every word you said. Committing your features to memory so if you ever left him he would have the lines of your skin mapped out so you could crawl inside his skull and be safe there.

Graves was no fool, he knew his line of work was dangerous, he knew he was walking on cracking ice everytime he stepped outside. With one wrong move, one missed sign, he would fall in and drown. A part of him always hoped you would save him, put an end to his reckless ways. That you pull him up, back onto a more sturdy section of the ice and he could steal the oxygen from your lungs that you would always so happily and eagerly give. You loved him after all.

But now, he could see the adoration you always swirling in your eyes when he was within your vicinity was dead and gone. Replaced by a dull and dreary cacophony of resentment and pain. He was smothering you, he had taken too much. There was nothing he could do to save you.

Even if he poured everything he had into you, filling you up with everything he had so greedily taken you were too broken to store it anywhere. Not your eyes, not your hands, not your heart.

–

When you sit there acting like you know me

Acting like you only brought me here to get below me

Nevermind the death threats parting at the door

We’d rather be six feet under than be lonely

The words coarse through him, straight to his dick. It throbs at your voice, seemingly knowing who it belongs to. He closes his eyes, screwing them shut. Hips rutting and stuttering against you to get any kind of friction.

“Stop teasing.” His tone waivers, brinking on the edge of neediness and desperation still. Your hands trace his figure, snaking their way up to his hair. You can feel it between your fingers, the strands dancing across your skin as you give a harsh yank. He grunts, his head tipping back with the pull of his hair. Your lips clash with his neck again, being gentle with your mouth work as you trail to his collar bones.

Your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt, the fabric lying dead as you discard it. His upper half is vulnerable for your eyes to devour; and devour your eyes do. Your gaze rakes over him, sending chills throughout his veins, his heart skipping for just a moment enough to be noticed.

“Thought you loved my teasing though. I mean, obviously you do. Look at this.” You palm his erection, the friction sending waves of heat through his nerves. It crashes through him with the force of the sun, clouding his headspace. The only visage he can conceive is of you. “Look at you.” Your voice is hushed, soft even.

“All worked up over a single touch? Remember to breathe, baby.” You chuckle.

–

If you had a problem, then you should’ve told me

Before you started getting all aggressive and controlling

You only drink the water

When you think it’s holy

Even if he poured everything he had into you, filling you up with everything he had so greedily taken; you were too broken to store it anywhere. Not your eyes, not your hands, not your heart. They had no room for him anymore.

“I’m leaving.” You break his thoughts, shattering them into a million pieces and scattering them across your shared living space.

“You never talk to me anymore, Phillip.” That wasn’t what you were supposed to call him.

“You hull yourself up here in your office, create these walls, create a mess-” you take a breath. He takes the opportunity to speak.

“Well, hey- Let’s talk this out, okay? Nobody has to leave anywhere-” he’s negotiating. Trying to gather the shards of his thoughts, collecting them and their jagged edges that cut and pierce his skin. In all honesty, they probably pierce your’s too. They dig into your epidermis, like a parasite, embedding themselves right out of your grasp. Only able to access them if you want to rip yourself apart, and you couldn’t bear to see crimson anymore.

“No Phillip.” You shut him down. “I’m tired of talking it out. It never works with you. Your words mean nothing to yourself and to me. You know this, I know you do.” Your voice sounds defeated and drained. The last ropes tethering you to him snapped and shredded to bits. But he would be damned if he didn't try to knot them back together, even with the fraying edges.

You couldn’t leave him, he would do anything for you to stay. He knew that, but he never revealed that to you. So how were you supposed to see his hurt, his anger, his desperation to make you stay. He would cement your feet in place if he needed to.

–

So keep an eye on the road or we will both be here forever

“All worked up over a single touch? Remember to breathe, baby.” You chuckle. Your pants had been discarded long ago, your arousal just as prevalent as his. Tucking your fingers under the hem of his boxers, you pull them down. His chest heaves as the cool night’s air hits his hard cock. Your hands find purchase on his hips once more, he throws his head back.

“Please.” He whines. “Please, I don’t care anymore, just fuck me please.” His voice breaks, the shift of his personality making you even harder.

“Of course my love. I’m so proud of you for begging for it like the good boy I know you are.” He nods, burying his face in your neck as you slowly split him open with your cock. His breathing hitches, the pace becoming erratic as you shush him. “Just breathe, baby. Tell me if it hurts.”

“Just-” His back arches as he reaches the end of your length. “Just move please.” His throat constricts as you snap your hips up, a choked moan coming from deep within him. He jolts when you hit the spot he loves the most, your name tumbling from his mouth like a mantra. It was the only thing he could remember at this point, the only thing he cared to remember.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” You pant, watching him as intently as the moment would allow. Your hand wraps around his dick, palm stimulating the tip as you move down the rest of his shaft stroking as well as you could using the precum as lube.

His hands grip tightly on your shoulders, bouncing himself with the rhythm of your thrusts. Skin making contact with skin resounding through the car’s space. His grip tightens, his nails sure to leave crescent shaped marks.

His moans are needy, guttural. “So, so good for me, love.” Red dusts his cheeks as you speak, keening at the parise you’re giving him. You can tell he’s about to come undone. The way his bounces stutter and his body jolts at the contact, he’s close.

“Look at me, baby. Look at me.” You grab his face, turning his head to look at you. The blue of his eyes meet yours, his pupils blown wide as he looks dazed. God you loved when he looked like this. “I wanna see your face when you cum, I wanna see that pretty fuckin’ face.” He nods the best he can, whining at words coming from your mouth. God he can feel you reaching so deep inside of him, scratching the itch that burns within like nobody else could. The way you snapped your hips hypnotized him, the only thing he could focus on was your voice.

He felt himself teetering on the edge, pushed to climax by a powerful thrust of your own. White spurted all over his toned stomach and you. His body shakes and convulses, your hands never leaving his hips as he slumps forward onto you. His face finds your neck again as you chase your own high, unintentionally over stimulating his senses. His legs shake something fierce as you cum inside him, the warmth spreading through his entire being.

Your arms wrap around him, bringing him as close as humanly possible. Smoothing your hands down his back as he twitches and pants.

"You did so well baby. So well."

–

I was more than just a body in your passenger seat

You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet

I see you go half blind when you're looking at me

But I am

You place your hands over his, the sweat hanging to your skin as the warmth of his radiates through your palms. You steady your breathing, leaning down and connecting your lips. You've done this so many times before, moments that felt like life or death but this was different. This was life or death. You breathe into his mouth, his chest rising with oxygen from your own lungs.

Your hands move to his chest, using your weight to press down intermittently but harshly. Afterall, good CPR cracks the ribs. That's just what you did, the sickening crunch fills your ears as you keep administering CPR. After thirty compressions, you move back down to his level. You're getting ready to fill his lungs again when he sputters a breath.

"Baby? Baby, can you hear me?" You cup his face, steading his head and neck. He groans, hand reaching up and attaching itself to your arm.

"Hey, you're okay. You're okay, we're gonna get you out of here." You smack your radio, static fizzing on the other side.

"This is L.T. (L/N). Does anyone copy?" You wait for a response. "I'm in need of immediate medical aid, I have Commander Graves. I repeat, I have Commander Graves."

A moment of silence passes, and just when you're about to give up a voice answers you.

"We copy, L.T. We are inbound to your position right now. ETA 3 minutes out." You breathe a sigh of relief, the adrenaline in your body starting to disappear. Graves look at you, his hand never leaving your arm. You sit next to him, finally turning your attention to the wound on your side. The giant gash now causing a noticeable gnawing pain that radiates from the sight through your whole body.

"Fuck." You mutter, shifting your weight painfully

"You're hurt." Graves' voice rings through your head. His voice hoarse from misuse.

"Yeah, that fucker Ghost got me." You say, sucking in a breath as you apply pressure to the wound. "Atleast I think it was him based on the height. Managed to nail my side with a Shotgun blast." The wound was bigger than your hand. In the little time you've touched it blood has stained the skin, the crimson you're so familiar with the last sight you may see.

Graves is silent, studying your face as you lie next to him, your hands interlocking. You bring his knuckles up to your lips, kissing them softly. These three minutes seem to drag on for eternity. Your vision fading around the edges, you close your eyes trying to focus on your pained breathing.

"Hey," Graves finally speaks.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Between the second hand smoke and the glass on the streets

You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave

You say you want me but you know I'm not what you need

But I am

"I love you too, Graves."

[rookiesbookies]

No real post bc Im working on an ask but here’s a teaser for a different fic im doing

Graves Niece!Reader x Konig (might turn into also an X Kruger x Horangi fic for this idk still writing it)

I think this is really funny, tell me what yall think!

This isnt the full fic

For the past couple of years, Graves had dedicated himself to taking care of his niece, a bright girl with a brighter future. As a high school student, she had always excelled, studying diligently and achieving remarkable results. Inspired by her legal guardian's activities, she had set her sights on a career in intelligence, the less dangerous side of the work he did.

Graduating with honors, she effortlessly aced every challenge that came her way, surpassing even the highest expectations. Her exceptional abilities did not go unnoticed, as she was scouted by both the FBI and CIA. Despite the potential dangers associated with such a career path, Graves never fretted. He knew his niece was as tough as nails and unwavering in her determination to work in the field she had chosen.

When she returned to his house after college, armed with the code names Oracle of Delphi and Kassandra, his displeasure was evident.

"Phil, please, let me work for Shadow. It's all I've ever wanted," she pleaded with her uncle, her voice tinged with desperation.

"But it's not our family's company, it's mine. And it's dangerous, I can't let you get involved," he responded firmly.

"Phillip, please!” she whined more, “It's all I've worked for, and we only have each other," she continued.

"That's exactly why I need to protect you from this life," he insisted.

She sighed in frustration, muttering, "I should have joined the CIA. At least they would have given me a tour before shutting me down."

“No they would not.”

“There you go, squashing yet another dream of mine.”

“The men who work in this sphere will not all be as caring for you as I am. I will not be able to protect you from them, dammit.”

“We both know this family only learns lessons the hard way. I want to see the base, at least. Who’s going to take on Shadow after you if not me?”

With a protracted sigh, Graves escorted his mid-twenties niece to the base, providing an extensive list of rules the night before. Recognizing the primal nature of his male-dominated workforce, Graves understood the scarcity of female interaction for his men and anticipated the allure of his niece's figure. Her captivating figure prompted double takes from frat boys, yet she remained steadfast in her pursuit of a 'real man,' dismissing brainless college boys with an occasional fling as insufficient. A brief dalliance with a Law graduate student soured when his self-righteousness eclipsed the capacity to love anyone but himself. In this enclave of primal instincts and complex relationships, Graves sought to navigate the delicate balance between protecting his niece and managing the untamed nature of his workforce.

Arriving at the base, she found herself pleasantly surprised. Graves had arranged for her to have a dedicated barracks, normally shared but now tailored to her needs, boasting top-notch amenities. The introductions with Graves' men were brief, conducted in a group setting. Positioned on a step, Graves gathered his team around him, assuming a commanding presence. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation and curiosity as she navigated her new surroundings. The personalized accommodations and the commanding introduction hinted at the unique journey that awaited her within the military confines.

[angelkakewritings]

SUN ON THE CUL-DE-SAC

DILF!Phillip Graves x Female Reader

ONE SHOT || MDNI

PRONOUNS USED: She/Her/Hers

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the canon character of Phillip Graves or any of the canon characters or canon lore of the games.

CW: DILF!AU, slight age gap! ( reader is set to be in her early to mid twenties and Phillip would be his canonical age) mutual pining, exhibitionism, kissing, cursing, praising, mentions of alcohol (nobody included in the story drinks!) male receiving oral, face fucking.

Author's Note: Based upon the existing headcanons about DILF!Phillip Graves contributed by the fandom, the concept is not something out of my original writings! I do not condone the actions or behaviors of Phillip, this was made just for fun! Enjoy!

Cul-de-sac.

The word hits the tip of the tongue three times only for its definition to plainly be "bottom of the sack."

A phrase that the young woman thought perfectly embodied what it was like to exist in the small town. A blur of endless birthday parties, summer picnics, and mediocre thanksgiving dinners with the same old neighbors who spent their time gossiping on who or what they saw in passing at the grocery store.

Perhaps, she had nobody else to blame for her unhappiness but herself. Nobody was forcing her to stay and why wouldn't she? The house was reasonably priced, the area was safe, work was a car ride away.

Safety, security and stability.

The American dream was right outside her doorstep.

And when the summer crept in, it was now moved right next door.

On the third day of the heat wave that plagued the neighborhood, the idea of staying inside and being overstimulated by the buzzing sound of the air conditioner and the heaviness of her clothes against her  body brought dread to the young woman.

The sound of sprinklers being timely turned on with the droplets of water hitting the soft green grass inspired her to stroll to the back porch with a cold water bottle in hand accompanied by a small stack of books in the other.

She opened the screen door, revealing the bursts of greenery and white iron lawn furniture that decorated the backyard. The summer heat pooled around her, the rays of sunlight that kissed her exposed navel made their way to the peaks of her breasts that were being held together by the dainty terry cloth string of her canary yellow bikini.

In the middle of the wildflower and clotheslines riddled backyard she sunbathed away, lounged on-top of the plush chaise chair and lost in her own little world of fictional romances and written angsts.

Chapter three of her drugstore romance novel was interrupted by the sound of a low whistle, the deep decibels caused her to prop up her sunglasses.

Leaning against the wooden face, standing at 5'10, was her neighbor Phillip Graves. He was almost unrecognizable without the droves of lonely and desperate housewives that coddled him in bites of their homemade apple pies and lingering french tip touches.

Phillip was a very handsome man, the kind of handsome that made people treat him differently. The dads of the cul-de-sac always gave Phillip top priority when it came to fourth of july barbeques, the mothers making sure to send over casseroles and inviting him over as soon as their husbands went to work, the children looked up to commander Graves as a true American hero.

His ego never got to the best of him however, despite all the attention he attracted. His attention always fell upon the young woman that lived next door, his scarred hands lingered on the small of her back when they greeted one another at gatherings, throwing winks and gazes at her when everybody else fell into their mindless chatter.

She never minded the extra attention. In fact, she played into it as much as she humanely could. She had grown into the nasty habit of leaving her curtains wide open towards his blue shuttered home, inviting his gaze in to witness her walking around her house wearing her shortest skirts with no underwear, bending and flexing over to expose her puffy cunt tucked between her supple thighs.

He wanted her as much as she did him.

There she laid, glossy with tanning oil, kissable lips lustrous with droplets of water and tied together with a pale yellow ribbon

A lewd illustration out of one of his fantasies.

"Enjoying the summer heat too?" She foxily asked, putting her book to the side while looking onto Phillip's lust hooded eyes.

He chuckled, "Sure. I'm just admiring your rose bushes." He boyishly commented. "I was just cleaning up a bit before the barbeque tonight. You're still welcome to come by the way." His baby blue orbs followed her form as she dainty walked over towards him, the two now standing mere inches away from each other.

"I'll pass, thank you. I don't think I'd stand a chance against the queen bees of the P.T.A" She giggled, the corners of her mouth curling in mischief. 

Phillip bit his lip at seeing how ecstatic she had turned around him, he wished nothing more than to revel in her essence.

"I'm pretty sure it would be the other way around sweetheart."

The nickname caused her heart to skip a beat, it was the type of material she would use to moan his name against the bathroom walls while touching herself to the idea of him.

The pregnant pause between them was filled with the sharp shrill of a cicada singing high up above the two.

A pair of manicured fingers gently laid upon his wrist, "You mind if I come over for a beer? I'm assuming it's already being chilled in the cooler." She purred.

His large hand took her fingers, "Of course."

'How could he say no?' he thought.

In a matter of minutes, a kaleidoscope of sweet cherry chapstick and the bitter notes of mint swatched on the palettes of their tongues.

"You're an angel." He breathed out in between kisses, humming in red hot delight at her hand palming the bulk between his legs.

"I can show you how much of an angel I could be." She hushed out, looking at his calloused fingers plucking away the string of her top.

"On your knees."

The words fell on her ears as a soft demand, a gentle plea to the siren in front of him to crawl at his will. The sunburnt skin of her knees stinged against the cool tiles of the kitchen floor as she nestled in front of his massive form, her rose petal soft face now juxtaposing the erection that was vulgarly throbbing beneath his pants.

Hypnotized, Phillip watched in unwavering movement at how she pulled and tugged away at the layers of his leather belt and cotton to reveal the long and pink nature of his cock that curved upwards, angry and weeping with beads of pre-cum. The rosy pair of lips haloed around his bloated tip, sloppily placing warm and wet kisses. His hand ran through her lustrous hair, pleasure and agony running up and down his back to the rooks of his shoulder blades.

Each bob of her head brought him further and further into the wet crevasse of her mouth, every movement earning a low groan and high whine.

"Atta girl." He praised out at his tip hitting the back of her throat, his hips began to buck against her pretty face. She looked through wet and willing eyes as he chased his high, visions of pinks and swollen reds blanketed her cheeks and the full of her pout.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

The explicit chants, whimpers and swishing of her saliva coating the entirety of his length brought her pussy to a weep, feeling how her slick coated her exterior and down to the cup of her ass.

The destructive rhythm of his hips came to an abrupt halt as the veins that ran on every inch of his dick protruded and ached, spurts of hot white cum filled the opening of her mouth as he twitched and rocked out his climax.

His large hands clamping down on her chest, bracing himself with the pleasure that burned his aura.

Phillip pulled away, dusted in exhaustion and sweat.

A deep grumble of victory expelled from his chest while looking down at his girl, cherry red with tears at the corner of her eyes and swathed with brine white

He cupped her cheeks, placing the kiss of a bee on her destroyed lips.

She pressed herself into his, running her finger across the scar deeply embedded in his cheek, pensive in what the summer now held.

[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

debt

a/n: a goofy lil graves post for my goofy lil graves enjoyers. If there’s any errors I wouldn’t know because I’m too tired to check

minors DNI

Too many drinks. Too many bets. Too many lost clients and personal savings going into shadow company- lead graves to something he promised never to do. Losing his pride, at a strip club no less, with only a cowboy hat and a black mask on, as well as some assless chaps and leather gloves, the feeling of his bare chest in the cold air of the club making the hair at the back of his neck stand up.

he could practically feel the burn of the eyes of people looking at him as if he was a toy or a pretty little housewife to take home- but he started to like it, having attention on him even if it was more as a showpiece then a commander, and the free drinks at the bar weren’t helping his ego.

he could hear some men whistle him over, to which he attempted to ignore despite it being his job.. his eyes instead focusing on you at the very back booth- one of his own men no less. And you were looking right back at him, blissfully unaware that the masked cowboy was your commander.

and of course, you had to whistle him over- he was just to pretty not to :(, his movement going from ego filled to nervous on minutes as he sat next to you, feeling your hand slide around his waist, and feeling you softly pull him onto your lap. He could feel your bulge against the thin jeans under his chaps, the warm sensation making him blush in embarrassment and humiliation but his member going hard none the less.

he felt so dirty. He wasn’t raised like this, let alone with one of his own men for some cash, but his mind couldn’t focus on that thought for too long as he heard you whisper “how much would it cost for a- private dance in my hotel room, hm?”.

your voice made him gulp- but money was money, so he agreed for a surprisingly low amount, hopping a cab with you and ending up laid out on the white sheets.

his hands clawed at the sheets as he felt you work him open with two digits, the cold lube on your fingers making him whine as you stretched him open enough that it wouldn’t hurt, before pulling down your boxers and sliding into him slowly, making him feel every inch until he was begging for you to move inside him, his voice muffled and whiny, slowly replaced with moans as he felt you thrust against his prostate and feeling your hands holding him down.

he could only imagine what his soldiers would think of him if they found him like this, being fucked by his own soldier for money while in a mask- his mind only snapping out of the thoughts when he felt you speed up, his walls clenching around you so hard as you bucked into him, your pace uneven as you chased your relief.

he came all over the perfect white sheets, ruining them and his torso with cum as you continued to thrust into him, finally finishing when your hips jittered to a stop and his hole milked your cock- him fainting right after from pure tiredness and waking up with money on the nightstand and your phone number scribbled on his thigh..

with the words ‘see you on duty, commander <3’ sprawled on his other thigh, making him blush a deep red as he realized you figured out who he was

[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

bunny

a/n: thinking of barrack bunny graves in a bunny suit 😔

Minors Do Not Interact

graves had always ‘helped’ his troops, from sucking them off after they did well on a mission to letting them use him like their own toy while stuck in bases or when everyone was pent up. Although you were his favorite. Nobody questioned it, you just made him feel so much better whenever he snuck into your room- so of course he’d be the first one to come waltzing into your room with a big smirk on his face, wearing a bright pink bunny outfit that barely covered anything.

he teased all the troops the rest of the day, bending over the mess hall counter just far enough back that the pink bunny suit would stretch just enough to show his matching butt-plug- and even sitting on troops laps before running off before they could do anything. He was having fun teasing the base like this of course, but he could feel your eyes digging into him the whole day, like a ghost haunting him: simply waiting for him to be alone.

the only thing he hadn’t noticed was how pent up he was making his men- well he didn’t notice until he got pulled into an office room and put down on his knees in front of you

he whimpered softly, wincing at the perfect ache his plug being pulled out of two fingers prepping him just a bit more. his eyes focused on just you since a hand was holding his head still

“so, teasing does work?” He hummed with a sharp grin, before whimpering again as the two thick fingers inside him curled and hit his gummy walls just right

he could guess there was three soldiers around him other then you? Not that it mattered- simply more fun for him anyway. His mouth opened, letting you tease him before putting your already half hard member in his mouth. The warm feeling of being used making his mind fuzzy and making tears prick his pretty blue eyes

he can’t remember when the two digits slipped out of him or when he was filled up by some other soldiers cock. He was too busy trying to remember how to pleasure you just right, the feeling of his walls clenching and his member being stroked by someone more of an afterthought for him as he licked and sucked your member softly.

overstimulation was starting to weigh over him, pitiful whines and moans being muffled by you fucking his throat. He knew his new bunny suit was ruined by now most definitely- either by his own cum or someone elses.

Now that he thought about it he could barely think of anything other then how good he felt, looking up at you and feeling the cold air and hot touches make his skin tingle. Still sucking on your member and letting his men use him without a single order or complaint, feeling their loads drip out of him slowly before being filled with the next.

by the end of everything he was all alone in the room, since you had left after making sure he had made you finish in his mouth; leaving him to catch his breath while you went to go find something to somewhat clean him up

he really hoped one of his soldiers was recording that- but that idea alone made his already aching cock hard again

[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

direct

a/n: another wonderful writing piece created from a random idea at 3 am like three months ago that I found in my notes today

Minors, just- leave? Jeez.

Graves has kept his eyes on you for a while. You’re the newest recruit of course-  you’re a hard worker, you’re loyal, The Way your muscles flex under your training shirt, he’s everything he wants in a soldier. but he can’t seem to pin something about you. He feels like he can’t keep his eyes off you

It’s an odd urge at work that he can’t shake if it, though he usually has some self control. Sure he slept with soldiers before; hell, he’s probably such a MOST of his soldiers. But he doesn’t just want to do that with you, he wants you.

He’s been trying to flirt with you for days, chasing you around in circles even though you don’t seem to notice- it’s driven him half to insanity in fact. Can’t you just pick up that your pretty commander wants you? He couldn’t even Jack off without thinking about you or having something that smelt like you around. And even then he just wanted you.

He’s not keen on being direct, but god he wants you. So? He barges into your shower after an overly tiring mission, basically collapsing into you and simply wanting you to make all his thoughts go away. His body moving before his brain could think about his dumb choice

“please, please, please just fuck me already.” Graves mumbled while looking up at you, whining and begging like a fucking dog, but he’s desperate

and much to his surprise, you don’t say no, you simply shut him up with a harsh kiss before bending him over and folding him like a lawn chair. Feeling the burning of you slipping your tip in without barely and prep or warning

Graves let out a low whine, he felt as if he was being split open while you slid in inch by inch and it was the best feeling in the world, the warmth of the water pouring down over both of you making everything feel muddled and harsh. God this was what he wanted, to just slip into the subspace in his head.

he felt half bad for anyone else in the shower rooms, his little whimpers and moans slipping though even though he tried to muffle them by covering his mouth, loud enough that anyone around could hear him still when you pulled out just to the tip and plunged back in again and again and again. He couldn’t count how many times he had cum or if it were sweat sliding down his back or just the warm water from the shower head. His vision was starting to get blurry by the time you turned off the shower and pulled out after filling him to the near brim, a little wince at the new cold feeling making all his overstimulated senses spike.

he got what he wanted, at least?

[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

I’ve been thinking about the silly guy that is graves again, so it’s time for a poll because I don’t know if how I write him is liked (although I kinda doubt I’ll get many answers)