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#graves x fem!reader
katz-chow · 6 months
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of apple pies and bloody knives
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synopsis: a small montanan town, an orchard, a longhorn girl, and a big time rancher who has a knack for hunting...with halloween rolling in, will fiction turn into reality?
aka: slasher!graves x fem!reader(?)
*reader is a texan girl that is only referred to as "doll",
a/n: this is a horror/thriller romance, some topics might be sensitive, each chapter will have its own warning. slasher!graves was thought of by @frogchiro originally, i just took the idea and made it my own because i'm delusional. thanks!
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masterlist:
chapter one: a haze in the fields
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angel5ofp0rn · 14 days
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that’s it that’s the whole post
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captainfern · 8 months
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hi cap ily sm
pls price x reader x graves smut 😛
With The Lights Out
Captain John Price x fem!reader x Commander Phillip Graves
["With the Lights Out" boxset by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - price and graves don't have anything in common. except, of course, their attraction to you lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.3k • warnings - fem!reader, all porn literally zero plot, this is nasty guys fr, threesome, reader goes to paris, possessive!price, possessive!graves, oral [f!&m!receiving], fingering, unprotected piv, cumplay idk, double penetration [2 in 1 *wink wink*], creampies, a competitive breeding kink from both men lmao, price has a sir kink, graves has a corruption kink, both men are whipped, praise, degradation, strong language, their last names are used because i find it hot ok? don't judge me 😭
i'm going to hell
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Price and Graves had virtually nothing in common. They butted heads on the scale of authority, and both had very different ideas on how to run successful missions.
But there was one thing they agreed on.
You.
And for some reason, by the grace of the universe, they ended up agreeing on that one thing very well.
One moment, you were in your bedroom, both your captain and commander entering to talk you through certain topics they said had been playing on their minds as of late. It turns out that those certain topics involved you being shared by both of them.
Completely naked, you lay on your bed with a thin sheen of sweat across your skin. Your upper body was propped up against Price's lap, who had one hand groping your breasts, twisting your nipples between his calloused fingers. His other hand cupped your jaw, his forefinger and middle finger in your mouth. Saliva dribbled from the corners, down your chin in glistening streams, as Price's fingers pressed down against your tongue. You murmured moans around his digits while your legs twitched, hiked over Graves' shoulders.
Graves was between your legs, two hands gripping the fat of your thighs, kneading the flesh as his tongue worked in and out of your sopping cunt. He grunted with each thrust of his tongue, his nose bumping against your puffy clit, the vibrations of his grunting making your legs tremble more.
Price shushed you gently. He was still in his boxers, but you could feel the outline of his hardened cock against your upper back. You arched your back at the feeling, and he squeezed at your tits harder, making you mewl around his fingers.
The reason Price had his fingers in your mouth was so that Graves couldn't hear how good he was making you feel. Jealously stirred inside his chest when you moaned loudly when the commander sucked your clit, his tongue between your folds making you babble his name so beautifully. Price used his position to his advantage and gagged you with his fingers, continuing to grope at your pretty tits.
That didn't deter Graves though– who continued lapping at your wet cunt, maintaining as much eye contact as he could. He held your gaze as he fucked his tongue in and out, dragging your orgasm closer and closer. You whined around Price's fingers, hips bucking, nudging Graves' face further into you. Graves moaned, the vibrations sending you over the edge.
You came, eyes rolling back in your head, thighs clamping around Graves' head. He licked you through it, tongue not leaving you until you were whimpering, thighs trembling in his hold. Price praised you gently, rubbing the mounds of your breasts gently as Graves pulled his face away from you.
The American, face glistening with your arousal, locked eyes with Price and licked his lips, a triumphant smirk on his face. Price grunted, removing his fingers from your mouth, before leaning over and kissing you.
You whimpered into the kiss as Price shoved his tongue past the seam of your lips, coaxing more and more little noises from your throat. He held your face to his, angling it so Graves could get a good look. Price opened his eyes, looking to the side and directly at Graves as he smoothed his tongue against yours, drawing more light moans from you.
"That's how you want to do it, huh?" Graves grunted at Price, gently removing your legs from his shoulders.
He rubbed his hands up and down your legs, massaging the muscles of your calves and thighs, then moving up to squeeze the flesh of your arse. You hummed contentedly into Price's mouth at the feeling of Graves' hands on you, pushing and pulling at your warm skin.
"S'that feel good, baby?" Graves asked, his hands beneath the curve of your arse, gripping the backs of your thighs. He leaned forward to press kisses to your tummy, sucking at the soft skin just below your navel.
Graves watched you try to pull out of the kiss to reply, but Price grumbled low in his throat, holding your jaw tightly and sliding your mouth back to his. You moaned into the kiss, but it was muffled, and Graves couldn't help but grow annoyed.
He sat back on his heels as Price kissed you, kneaded your breasts– that, for the record, were covered in Graves' spit from about ten minutes earlier. The American slowly spread your legs once more, moaning under his breath at the sight of your glistening cunt, all pretty and puffy after he'd made you come in his mouth. He licked his lips, still tasting you.
Graves pulled his boxers down, managing to kick them away while still kneeling on the bed. He gripped his hard cock, the tip red and beading with pre-cum. He hissed lowly, pumping himself, more pre-cum dribbling from his slit and down his length. He was so fucking hard it almost hurt.
Gently, he crawled back between your legs as you and Price made out. He had to admit, it was a pretty sight, but it'd be a whole lot prettier if he could just hear you.
So, of course, he had a plan.
Graves gripped his cock and guided the head to your cunt. He dragged the tip up through your slick folds, tapping it against your clit and smearing his pre over it.
His plan worked– you ripped yourself away from Price's eager mouth and moaned loudly, followed by whimpered mewls of Graves as the commander continued to rub his cock up and down your folds. Price tried to chase your mouth again, but you turned your head so you could watch Graves rut himself against your core.
"You're so wet, aren't you, baby? Yeah? You feel that?" Graves asked with a coy smile, circling the head of his cock against your swollen clit. Wet sounds elicited from your core, and it made you whimper out for him again. He hummed, pleased, dragging his cock down to press the head to your hole, circling that as well. You moaned, and Price had had enough of that.
"And who said you get to fuck her first, eh?" He challenged, threading his arms beneath your armpits and hoisting you further up the bed. You gasped out as he pulled you against him until you were sitting in his lap.
Graves grit his teeth, the warmth of your cunt literally dragged away from him. His cock, still fisted in his hand, glistened wet with your arousal. The sight made you wriggle in Price's lap, grinding his own erection against your arse. He hissed, dipping his head to attach his lips to your shoulder.
"I think the pretty girl can decide that for herself, can't she?" Graves quipped, and began moving up the bed again. He closed in on you where you sat all pretty and desperate in Price's lap. "Can't you, baby?" He whispered, then kissed you gently, lips moving slowly against yours. You could taste yourself when the tip of his tongue swiped along your lips.
You nodded carefully as Graves' kissed your mouth and Price kissed along the curve of your bare shoulder. Graves pulled back, eyes taking in every inch of your face.
"I want both." You whined out as Price sucked at the hot skin beneath your ear. He chuckled, and so did Graves, who leaned back towards you to brush his lips against yours, featherlight.
"Can't have both yet, pretty girl," he said. "Just gotta have one cock to stretch you out first, okay? An' you want me to do that? Want me to stretch out this pretty pussy, hm?"
Price removed his mouth from your neck. "She didn't say that, Graves, you fucking prick. Let her speak."
You all but ignored Price, moaning out at Graves' words. You leaned forward to kiss him, just as you felt two fingers weasel beneath your legs and prod at your dripping hole.
Price pushed two fingers inside you from where he had you sat in his lap. He grunted, the tight heat of your cunt sucking his fingers in as he sunk all the way to the knuckle. He placed kisses along your neck as he dragged his fingers in and out as Graves kissed you. Price could see him gripping tightly at the base of his cock.
"Mmmygodddd–" You whined into Graves' mouth as Price fucked you with his fingers, adding a third. His other hand moved over your leg this time, his middle finger collecting your arousal from your inner thighs and circling your clit.
He pinched it gently, and you sobbed into Graves' mouth, your lips going lax. Graves pulled back to see Price's fingers thrusting in and out of you. His jaw clenched.
"Who do you want first, sweetheart?" Price asked you, eyes flicking up to Graves, who was now fisting his cock, watching Price finger you.
"Mmm..." You hummed out, about to make an answer. Price curled his fingers inside you, pressing into your g-spot with just the right amount of pressure to have you crying out, head falling back against his shoulder. "Fuck, fuck– you, Price, please–"
Price smiled at Graves. Graves rolled his eyes.
Price kissed you one last time on the neck. "Want you to come 'round my fingers first."
You did– your orgasm rippling through you like static, making your whole body tremble against him. You came around his fingers, milking the digits tight and making Price groan out.
"Good girl, there you go..." He muttered, removing his fingers with a slick squelch, shining wet.
Cocky, he looked over at Graves and then held his three fingers towards him, crooking them in a come here motion. Graves bared his teeth in disapproval.
"Don't fucking push it." Graves hissed, but Price persisted, keeping his fingers held out towards the American's face. Graves sneered, but knowing just how good your pussy tasted on his tongue made his cock jump in his hand. He groaned, Price's glistening fingers directly in line with his mouth, tempting. Then, he gave in, opening his mouth for Price to shove his fingers in.
On any other day, it would have been absolutely demoralising for the commander. But, not only was the taste of you on Price's fingers enough for his stomach to twist with his looming orgasm, you released the prettiest sound he'd ever heard. You moaned, so breathy and desperate, as you watched Graves suck your arousal from Price's fingers.
Your core throbbed, the veil of overstimulation lifting. Your clit pulsed in time with your rapid heartbeat, and you found yourself grinding into Price's lap. Price nodded, pleased, at Graves, a subtle smile on his lips. Then, he yanked his fingers free and pet Graves on the cheek, saliva smearing across the scar on the Americans cheek. Graves sneered and slapped Price's hand away, but his pupils were blown wide, his cock leaking pearl after pearl of precum.
"Fuck you." Graves grit out, but Price ignored it. Instead, he shifted the scene– instructing Graves to the head of the bed and positioning you on your hands and knees. You sunk slightly into the mattress, but Price held you up, his hands on your hips as he positioned himself behind you.
He rid himself of his boxers as Graves settled you between his legs. The commander placed one hand on the back of your neck, the other guiding his cock to your lips. He smeared pre across your closed lips, and you stuck out your tongue to press it into his slit. Graves grumbled some praise before you were wrapping your lips around the reddened tip.
"Oh, fuck, there you go, good girl, baby," Graves praised, squeezing the back of your neck gently. "That's it, wrap that pretty mouth 'round my cock."
Meanwhile, Price was lining his cock up with your cunt, wet with your two orgasms, arousal dripping down your inner thighs. The sight made his brain short-circuit, and he found himself beginning to push into you with no warning. Your slick walls sucked him in so perfectly, making him groan lowly the entire time he pushed inside you.
You moaned around Graves' cock, eyes fluttering closed, your arse backing up in an attempt to make Price hurry up. But the captain continued his slow push in– dropping half of his body across yours, pressing warm kisses to your spine. Finally, with a leisurely snap of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, cock settled up against your cervix.
Again, you moaned around Graves' cock, whose hand on the back of your neck tightened further. That made you moan, too.
Price panted against your spine. "God, y'taking my cock so well, sweetheart."
You whimpered. Graves pressed you further down onto his cock until your nose pressed up against the light-coloured hair at the base. His tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Graves pulled you back, and then repeated the action a few more times, each time groaning your name for just the two of you to hear.
"Yeah, that's it, baby, suck your commander's cock," Graves whispered to you, other hand stroking the side of your face– so tender, so loving. Maybe that was the corruption kink talking. "You like gagging on your commander's cock, don't you? Naughty fucking thing."
For emphasis, his hips bucked again. You gagged, tears springing to your eyes. One fell, rolling down your cheek, but Graves caught it and wiped it away with his thumb. He continued to hold the back of your neck, guiding you up and down as you sucked his cock.
Price wasn't fucking you as slow anymore. Once he had passed the initial threshold of stretching you around him, he had simply pulled back out and then thrusted all the way back in. His hips slapped against you arse, forcing you forward and making you take more of the commander's cock down your throat. You gagged. Graves groaned.
You could hardly breathe, the pleasure coursing through you rendering you breathless.
Price fucked into you, deep and rough, abusing your cervix and making your eyes roll as light degradation fell from his lips. "Needy fucking whore, taking two cocks, eh? Needs her mouth and her tight cunt fucking stuffed to be happy. Dirty girl... fucking needy."
Graves guided you to suck his cock, gentle but firm, rubbing the tears from your cheeks with soft coos of praise. "You're doin' so well, baby, an' you look so fucking gorgeous, you know that? Lookin' so pretty takin' both our cocks, an' you're doin' so good, too. Fuck–"
God, the drawl of his accent was driving you insane. Price's gruff voice was doing much the same, and it had your cunt fluttering around his cock as your orgasm brewed heavy and rich in the base of your tummy.
Price groaned, pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts. "Can feel you fucking squeezing me. You wanna come?"
You hummed your reply with Graves' cock down your throat. Graves hissed out, the hand on your neck tightening again.
Price grumbled, happy and blissed-out. "Yeah, 'course you do. So fucking needy for it. Go on then. Come 'round my cock."
You tried to moan his name, but it was forced back down your throat by the head of Graves' cock. Instead, you just whined, mumbled and hoarse, as you came around Price. Your cunt squeezed him tight as you came, your thighs shaking– you would have probably collapsed onto the bed if he wasn't holding you up against him. Your arousal dripped down your thighs, fucked out of you by the girth of Price's cock, and you could feel the tiny streams reach the sides of your bent knees.
"So messy..." Price tutted, leaning back and admiring your backside as he fucked into your cunt.
Price's words made Graves grit his teeth, balls tightening and cock twitching deep in your mouth. He held you down against his pelvis, drool threatening to leak out past the corner of your lips again, as he whimpered above you.
"Gonna come, gonna come," he whispered, his whiny tone making your clit pulse. "Oh fucking hell, m'coming, baby–"
He pulled back just enough to release properly inside your mouth, rather than right down the back of your throat. His cum filled your mouth and you rounded your cheeks to take more as you felt him twitching against your tongue. He kept his semi-hard length inside your mouth and pressed a thumb to the corner of your lips.
"Don't swallow yet." He said, pushing a dribble of his spend back into your mouth.
Price wasn't far behind, either– with a guttural moan of your name, it took everything in him to pull out in time. He came across your arsecheeks and lower back, painting your skin white. Mouth full, you whimpered at the warm splatter across your backside.
"Fucking hell..." Price collapsed beside you on the bed, one arm resting across your lower back. He ran his fingers through his cum, smearing it against the fat of your arse and thighs.
But Graves wasn't close to being done. Quickly but gently, he pulled his cock out of your mouth and you kept your mouth closed as he manhandled you into a sitting position. He twisted you around so your back was pressed to his front, and he could tuck his chin against your shoulder, his cock already hardening against you.
"Don't tell me you're tired already, Price." Graves quipped as he slowly ground you down onto his lap, much like Price had done before. Except this time, you could feel his cock against your bare arse, and it made you shudder, cunt dripping against him.
Price grunted, then sat up. "Not a fucking chance." He positioned himself in front of you, and you felt hot with the way both men looked down at you, sandwiching you between them.
Just as you were wondering why you still had a mouth full of Graves' cum, you got your answer. Graves' cupped your jaw, thumb on one cheek, four fingers on the other cheek. He angled your face up to look Price in the eyes, and then he slowly, slowly applied pressure to your cheeks. You whined out quietly as your lips were pushed just slightly open and strings of his cum began leaking out.
Price's mouth dropped open as he watched, dribbles of white mixed in with your saliva pooling down your chin and dripping down your tits. He groaned, his cock twitching again. He gripped it and began pumping himself.
"Lick it off." Graves said simply, his dark tone making your eyelids droop and your stomach flutter. What made it even better was that he wasn't talking to you.
Price eyed Graves with dark, calculating eyes. You imagined Graves was giving him a similar challenging look.
Graves pressed his fingers harder into your cheeks, pushing more of his cum out of your mouth. As he did so, he was smoothly rubbing his cock through your sensitive folds.
Price didn't say anything, and didn't move.
Graves lifted you slightly and lined his cock up with your hole. Without breaking eye contact with the captain, he began placing wet, messy kisses along your neck.
"Lick it off while I stuff her with my cock." He whispered, then nipped at your earlobe, making you whine again.
Price conceded without more than a growl, leaning forward to run his tongue along the tops of your breasts. You moaned at the feeling. Graves removed his hand from your face, instead holding– not choking– your neck as he bucked his hips and shoved his cock inside you in one solid thrust.
You choked on a moan when the head of his cock hit the same place as Price's, knocking up against the plug of your womb. Price dragged his tongue away from your breasts and over your chin, his facial hair tickling your face. He licked up the mess on your lower face, before kissing you roughly. It was all teeth, tongue and spit. You could taste Graves and yourself still on Price's tongue.
"You think you can take two now, sweetheart?" Price asked you calmly once he pulled out of the kiss. He was spreading your legs further, getting a clear view of the way Graves rutted up into your hole. "You think this tight hole can take two cocks?"
You nodded deliriously, desperately. Price chuckled at your eagerness, then lined himself up alongside Graves. The American stopped, balls deep inside you as the head of Price's cock pressed to your entrance.
"Fuck, please, please, I need you, sir." You begged, and Price moaned loudly, ducking to kiss you again. He ran his hand along your inner thighs, collecting your arousal in his palm, before fisting his cock and spreading it. Cock slick, he slowly began easing into you.
"That's a good girl, call me sir when I'm filling this tight cunt." Price whispered, one hand on your thigh, the other on his cock as he fed more into your tight hole. Pushed up against Graves', his cock reached your womb.
You moaned loudly, probably the loudest of the night. You felt so full. They were both so deep inside you.
Both Graves and Price responded with their own grunts and groans of pleasure as everyone paused for a moment, adjusting to the fit.
"Fucking Christ you're tight." Price muttered. Graves didn't say anything. He just nosed at your pulse beneath your ear, breathing hard against your skin.
You were growing hot. And impatient.
You squirmed in their holds. "Please move."
They moved. It took a tense, testosterone-laced moment to get the rhythm right, but both men got it. Each time Price moved out, Graves was thrusting in and each time Graves moved out, Price was rutting into you. They worked like a well-oiled machine, never leaving your hole empty.
You were in heaven– dizzy off the pleasure, mind fuzzy and vision blurry. Your body was on fire, but in the best way possible, nerve-endings tingling as you were fucked by both men. You could feel them in your stomach.
Graves had one hand around your neck still, the other now on one of your breasts, rolling a peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He continued to kiss and lick at your sweat-slick skin, up and down your neck, whimpering against you with each thrust.
"You feel good, baby?" He asked.
You whined out a “yesssss–!”
"Mhm, yeah, feels good getting fucked by your commander and captain, don't it? Feels good getting this pretty pussy fucked by your bosses..." He finished his sentence with a moan into the curve of your neck, skimming his teeth against you.
Price, with both hands on your hips, moved one hand to press against the mound of your tummy, pressing deep enough to make you moan.
"Fucking you so deep, sweetheart," Price whispered, panting. "You feel that? You feel us both in this pretty tummy?"
Your answer was a high-pitched moan. You were already so close–
"Aw, you wanna come, pretty girl?" Graves asked the question, a whisper in your ear.
You nodded, one of each of your arms scrambling to hold onto them and keep yourself grounded.
“That’s it, ‘atta girl.” Graves said, with Price adding a deep, “Come ‘round our cocks, sweetheart.”
You came around their cocks with moans of both of their names, followed by babbling whimpers as the pleasure rolled over you in deep waves. You felt your own release gush out around them, drenching the bed covers, your body trembling unbearably hot.
Both Price and Graves groaned.
"Fuck, fuck, m'close..." Graves whimpered into your neck, rutting into you desperately.
Price was much the same, each of his thrusts becoming sloppier, his hands gripping your hips for balance, as to not topple over his orgasm too soon– not before Graves, anyway.
But Graves had other ideas.
"Fuck, m'gonna come first, fill you up first. How's that sound, baby?" He asked you, words slurred around his impending orgasm. "You want me to stuff this pretty pussy full'a my babies? Hm? Wanna make me proud? Wanna make me a daddy, baby?"
You mewled, biting your lip. "Graves, oh my god–"
Fuck that, Price thought.
"No, no, you want me, don't you, sweetheart? You want your captain to come deep in your tight cunt. Want your captain's babies in this pretty tummy."
You were so dizzy. "P-Price, fuck–"
Graves growled into your neck, and then came with a guttural groan of your name. He stuffed his cock deep inside you and came right up against your cervix, flooding your womb with his seed. He groaned and grunted against your neck, whispering your name over and over as he came.
Price, too high on pleasure to feel annoyed, thrust deeply once, twice more, then came inside you too. He shoved his cock in beside Graves, stretching you out and spilling into you. His head fell forward, onto the opposite shoulder to Graves, and he grunted your name through gritted teeth as he filled your womb.
You stuttered, whimpering at the sensation, feeling so warm and full. Your eyes closed, and you slumped against them, their cum trapped inside you. Neither of them made any attempt to move, just breathing hard against you.
"You alright, sweetheart?" Price asked as Graves pressed kisses to your neck, jaw and cheek.
"Yeah..." You breathed, heart calming. "Really good..."
"Good girl," Graves whispered, massaging your now sore breasts with tentative fingers. "Let me run you a bath. How's that sound?"
"Good..." You hummed. "After... after one more round."
Graves just groaned and Price chuckled against your shoulder. "Christ, sweetheart, you'll be the death of us, won't you?"
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happy october 1st whores
3K notes · View notes
barbieaemond · 15 days
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And I dream of a grave
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)
Word count: 3.8k
Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3
Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl
MASTERLIST | English is not my first language
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This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.
As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.
The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?
To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.
“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.
“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”
Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.
“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.
“You know what happened.”
“What really happened?”
His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.
“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”
“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”
It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.
He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.
“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.
He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.
“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”
Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.
“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”
She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.  
“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”
There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.
Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”
“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.
“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”
“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”
A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.
“Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”
She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.
So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.
“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”
Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”
“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”
There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”
“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”
“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”
At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.
“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”
She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.
She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.
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Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.
“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.
She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”
When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.
“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”
“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”
“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”
“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”
“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?
But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.
She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”
“We’re bound by words, are we not?”
“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”
She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”
Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.
“My dearest daughter,
It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.
Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”
She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.
“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”
He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.
Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.
But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.
“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”
She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.
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Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.
She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.
The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.
And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?
Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.
So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.
It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.
But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.
He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.
That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.
And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.
He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.
Will she ever be able to speak again?
Will my Mother ever forgive me?
Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.
But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.
He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.  
He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.
This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.
But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.
Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.
He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.
He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.
A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.
“Why are you crying?”
She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.
This is the burden of grief.
She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.
Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.
Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.
“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.
But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.  
“Aren’t we all?”
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And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."
- The Castle, Franz Kafka.
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frogchiro · 1 year
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men who'd beg to cum inside you, just thrusting away, all tired, worn out and flushed, panting like a beast in heat. they'd moan and groan as if almost in pain from the creeping in overstimulation but they just keep going, using their strong hips to thrust even faster and lifting your hips up up to get just that right angle to feel themselves slide even deeper. but they don't come, not yet at least, until they hear you say it-that you'll oh so graciously allow them to cum inside, let them flood your poor pussy and when you finally utter those lovely words you'll have them positively roaring in pleasure as they finally let themselves go and cum so deliciously deep inside♡
könig, soap, alejandro, rudy, philip graves, diluc, itto, childe, kazuha, tighnari
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yawnderu · 4 months
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Kortac members that would like a bimbo reader..?
Like I can't imagine anybody.
Especially Nikto.
Bimbo reader: look at my nails I made them with a cute colour... Hope you like them🤭💓
Nikto: 👁️👄👁️
Nikto: you're wasting my money for that..?
BFEKBHEHJFKBEHJFKBHBJFKEHJKB
Nikto would NOT do good with a Bimbo!Reader simply because he's too old for that shit and just doesn't get it. Would he fuck her? Yes. Would he date her? No.
Showing him your new plushies or nails would end up with him looking at you with his scary ass eyes like 🔵_🔵 and probably dissociate while staring at you, as he usually does either way fheefhjb
HMMM as for KorTac members that would do well with someone like Bimbo!Reader, I can see Graves, Valeria, and König.
I think Graves in general would 100% be the type to have a trophy wife, pretty little thing clinging to his arm in public, perfect body showing in the skimpy clothes you love to wear. It's natural for a man with money to spoil you, mainly buying lingerie and dresses that leave little to the imagination, though he also buys you things for your special interests and supports your hobbies.
Valeria, well... having a pretty thing like you is a far cry from all the war and violence in Las Almas, keeping you away from that place and kept a secret so the enemy cartels don't hunt you down. She's seen how ruthless they can be— she's a huge part of cartel violence as well, so she makes sure to keep you safe and guarded away from any of her enemies, never once being seen with you in public even when she secretly sometimes hopes she was able to give you a normal relationship.
König loves coming home to his pretty, bimbo girlfriend. You keep him in check and show him a more optimistic perspective than what someone as cocky and pessimistic as him is used to. Even when you're not the brightest tool in the shed, you're not afraid to knock him down a peg whenever he gets too cocky, and he absolutely adores to spoil you. He makes good money— what's the point in that if not buying lovely lingerie and dresses for his girl?
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i see u pleading for an andrew request so IM GONNA DELIVER 😼 what if. academic to lovers college au where y/n and andrew get assigned to a group project or smth (ion get how college works YET) and it’s actually really fluffy?? like maybe slightly yandere andrew where’s he’s a lil possessive but nothing too toxic that would scare a girl away irl.,.. okay that’s my idea good luck 🤧
Yandere! Andrew Graves x Reader (College AU)
Wordcount: 1,500+ words
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Andrew and you had the same history class and your professor paired the two of you up to research about WWI and create a presentation for class. You couldn’t use the internet for research, so you had to resort to digging around the city's library.
Andrew was a bit annoyed at first for this project. He preferred working alone, it made it so others wouldn’t get in his way while working and so he could have all his work credited for. 
Andrew quickly grew to respect you when you actually took the project serious instead of placing the work on him because he was smart, or just goofing off and not contributing. He respected that you could work efficiently at a decent-pace, but also you could have fun too. You could crack harmless jokes, and you could make something as boring as studying entertaining and fun while still taking your deadline and work seriously. 
Andrew quickly breaks out of his shell with you. You just have some sort of aura that draws him to you, he can't help but laugh at your jokes or guide you through the books with him. 
By the end of the first study session, Andrew leaves feeling happy to spend his time researching with you, and a bit sad that he has to wait until tomorrow to see you again.
The next day, you both go back to the library to research some more material for your project. You gather up what books you want to dissect today, sitting down at a table with Andrew to study, but he seems a bit distracted now.
Andrew's eyes drift from the pages to you repeatedly, he couldn't read a full page without looking at you twice, which made your work less efficient.
        "Are you okay?" you finally questioned.          Andrew seemed surprised that you caught him, his green eyes flickering in surprise, before he cleared his throat.         "Um... yeah. I'm just thirsty." He lied. "Hey, do you want a drink? There's a coffee shop not too far from the here. We can continue studying there?" he suggested.          "Sure." You smiled, seeing no harm in it.
        Andrew looked relieved that you accepted his proposal. You both gathered your materials and books, walking together to the library. Andrew stayed walking on the side of the road, a silent act of chivalry that you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't observing him to see if he was alright.
        When you got to the coffee shop and ordered your drinks, Andrew sat next to you in the same booth, your shoulders as he claimed it would be easier to point out what one another is talking about and to hear each other better in this crowded place. 
        Even though you both had gotten your drinks, Andrew's mind was still somewhere else. He was too busy staring at you, thinking of how pretty you looked with how your hair was done, or how your eyes looked in this coffee shop's lighting, or how you bit your lip slightly when you started to daydream while reading about the boring events going on for your project.
By the end of your second day together, you both had to leave the coffee shop because of how late it got. Andrew was disappointed he had to leave you, but he knew he'd see you tomorrow. 
On day three, Andrew woke up early and stopped at the library to check out some books for today's study session. He dropped them off at his apartment, cleaning up his apartment some before walking to class. He sees you and sits next to you during the lecture, making small talk with you before class started. 
Andrew and you goofed off a bit during class, but were still pretty productive helping each other out and not being too distracting to your other peers, so your professor allowed you two to stay seated together.
When class was over, Andrew mentioned how he picked up books earlier this morning during a grocery run since the library was just around the corner from him (liar). He said the books were at his apartment and that you both can study at his place.
You agreed. It'd be easier to study someplace where you wouldn't get kicked out for staying too long or for being too loud, and it's also helpful for if you get thirsty or hungry. You and Andrew walked to his apartment together as he walked on the side traffic was. 
Andrew almost wrapped his arm around your waist, but felt that it would be too intimate for now (he didn't want to scare you after all!) He instead placed his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side. 
When you questioned what he was doing, Andrew leaned down into your ear and spoke: "it's loud out here with the traffic and all, this just makes it easier to hear you."
You ignored it, following him back to his apartment. He unlocked the door and allowed you to step inside, before closing it behind you and locking it. Andrew took you to his bedroom, saying the books were in there. 
The books were on his bed as Andrew sat down on it, looking up at you, as if telling you to join him in bed. You did, sitting down next to him and picking up a book to start analyzing. Andrew had a bit of a hard time focusing with you in his room, on his bed, alone with his company. He was able to manage, reading and going over the topics with you. 
Andrew played soft jazz music in the background, claiming that the music was around the same time period as the project, so perhaps it'd get them in the mood to keep studying or maybe the lyrics could have something mentioning the project. Either way, the music and all this reading was starting to make you sleepy.
Andrew noticed how your eyes drooped, and how your head started to bounce up and down as you tried to keep yourself away. He hid his smile by hiding his face with his book. Before you could try leaving, you fell asleep on his bed next to him. Andrew noticed, and after a few minutes of making sure you were completely asleep, he placed both of your books down on his dresser, writing today's research papers for the two of you since you were asleep.
Andrew curled up next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he admired your sleeping figure. He kept the jazz music playing in the background, just in case you woke up from him turning it off and so it looked like he fell asleep too when you would eventually wake up.
When you woke up, you were fairly confused and flustered that you had fallen asleep in Andrew's room, and even more flustered once you realized you not only fell asleep in his bed, but his arms too. Andrew stirred awake when you tried to move out of his grasp, realizing you woke up. He apologized (fake, of course) and said that when he sleeps he usually hugs a pillow, so he must've thought you were his pillow when he fell asleep.
It was a reasonable answer, so you accepted the apology and moved on, getting ready for class. In the next few days, you and Andrew were able to finish your project and presentation together, getting a perfect score with each other's help. 
Andrew was disappointed that you two couldn't work together on the project together, so he proposed that you two become study buddies and help each other study. You accepted, making Andrew happy that he still got to see you and hang out with you after school alone. 
When Andrew left to go back to his parent's apartment, he made sure to call you about the situation at home, the contaminated water and the quarantine and all. He called you everyday, for hours at a time as you both fell asleep on the phone lines. 
When Andrew's calls faded all of a sudden, you were pretty concerned for him. He still wasn't in class, and he hadn't called you in almost a week despite your phone calls every day. 
It wasn't until you got a knock on your apartment that you saw him. When you opened the door, Andrew rushed in and immediately picked you up, spinning you around in the air as he smiled. 
"(Y/N)!" he smiled brightly, his hands on your hips as he spun you in the air happily. "Andrew!" you gasped, a smile making way on your face as you couldn't help but laugh as his actions. "Where have you been? Why haven't you been calling me?" you questioned, your face turning in confusion when you caught the whiff of something metallic on his clothing.  "That doesn't matter." He smiled, setting you down on the ground as he looked at you adoringly.  You noticed something on his cheek and used your thumb to wipe it off. It was a small blotch of red. Strange... "That doesn't matter anymore. She tried to keep us apart, but I wouldn't let that happen." He spoke, his eyes half-lidded as he stared into your pretty ones. "Nothing matters anymore. I'm here with you now." 
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        Thank you for the request! I'm a huge simp for Andrew (especially yandere) so I had such fun writing this!
        Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!
Inbox is open for requests!
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crystlizabeth · 6 months
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You belong to me..
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Shadow!femreader
Summery: she may have been a shadow and worked for graves but when your commanders friendliness becomes a bit to touchy it’s a problem, you don’t touch pretty things that belong to Simon Riley.
Warnings: possessiveness, unprotected sex, jealousy, praising, mentions of blood, not proofread
.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
Simon hated watching those shadows touch you, even if it was ‘friendly’. You smiled at every praise that left Graves lips of how you did such a good job, the pat to your back to low for Simon’s liking and the way he let his hand drag as he walked away. Simon couldn’t help but wonder how Graves was towards you when nobody was around, even if he was your commander your superior he wasn’t allowed to touch you like that. Simon clenched his fist as you stood there soon turning towards him, your gaze different a look a smile that was only meant for him displayed on your pretty face.
A sweet face that he’d have buried in a pillow tears go pleasure running down you face. You saw the way his eyes watched you his dark eyes hooded dangerously staring you down. Price catching Simon’s attention was the only thing that made him look away from you, one last glance towards you before following Price.
Even with that gold ring on your finger signafying that you where his, the last name on your Files no longer yours but his. It wouldn’t be enough he wanted you to himself he had begged price multiple times to call a transfer of you to 141 but Graves always declined because you worked for the United States, the Shadows you belonged to Graves.
But jealousy gets the best of everyone right?
Simons hands grabbing the side of Phillips vest slamming him against the wall, “what crawled up your ass and died Lieutenant.” Graves groaned.
“Why is it you always find your hands on my wife.” Simon spoke his face close to Phillips, his voice dark.
An ugly smirk appeared on Phillips face the cocky twat only shrugged his shoulders a short reply “She’s nice, a good asset to me. She is a good asset.”
That right there if he could without geting put away for life would have taken his knife and silt Phillips throat, carving the commander inside out and feed it to his Shadows and Shepherd himself. Instead Ghost fist connected to his face, more than once, enough to leave blood on his hands and the shirt he wore. He let go of Graves letting him slide down the wall, “if you’re smart, you’ll keep your hands to yourself and mouth shut.” Simon spike lowly leaning down to make eye contact with him.
“I don’t see what she sees in you…” Phillip coughed wiping the blood from his nose.
Simon stayed silent, he didn’t need to answer that because you saw him for him he didn’t have to explain what you saw in him to someone who’s been wanting you to themselves. “I’ll give her the world a safe home and face to look at… your really think she’ll stick around you forever, please. I see her more day out of the year you do why do you think I decline those transfers from your captain. Just to spite you and help her forget you.” Phillip said blood dripping from his toothy smile.
Simon was fuming, his knuckles splitting even more from clenching them. Who did graves think he was? You stuck around someone like that, even bleeding and in pain graves still chose to test his limits.
One punch after another Simon was on top of him graves of course fighting back but a man’s rage was different few more punches and he stopped. Phillip was still alive he was gonna leave him there to rot nobody would believe him he was a traitor staying in UK soil this was bound to happen. And even then Simon had proof that it was just self defense.
Grabbing Philips hair making him look up at Him “Ya listen here, stay the fuck off my wife she can work for your or you’ll be smart and start a transfer. But may god help you if you lay a finger on her again.” Simon spoke harshly finishing by pushing Graves against the wall.
The click of your door opening startled you awake, but the figure that stood in the hall light that poured into your room made you less tense. “Simon..you can be in here..” your voice groggy, your eyes scanning over him at yuh turn your light on. He was covered in blood his mask held in his left hand as he looked at you.
You quickly got you closing your door pushing him to the bed sitting him down “who did this to you.. Simon.” You spoke lifting the bloody shirt off his head his blond hair sticking up.
“It’s not mine.”
It’s not his? Who’s was it then, who pushed him over the edge just enough. Was he gonna get in trouble for this, arrested. “Love stop the worrying..” he spoke breaking you out of your thoughts his large hands pulling you towards him.
He pulled you in close sitting you in his lap your thighs falling around his waist, the feeling of his hands grabbing your face made you wince a bit the feeling of dried blood on his hands made you cringe.
“You belong to me..” he spoke his dark eyes penetrating yours. “You belong to me.” His words stern and harsh.
“Say it.”
“I belong to you Simon.” You spoke his hands falling down your face his hands finding the bottom of your shirt lifting it over your head. You could feel the tension radiating of his skin, he was gonna take his stress and the rest of his anger out on you.
“Good girl, say it again, tell me I’m allowed to have you as I please.” He spoke his lips kissing your neck.
You obeyed “ I belong you you Simon, take me. Have me I’m yours.”
His lips met your kissing you so hungrily he was here to remind you who you belonged to. His hand grabbed the band if your panties pulling his hand back harshly snapping them at the pulling them if you your bare cunt exposed to his trousers. He lifted you up dropping your body on the the mattress as he undid his pants, quickly finding himself on top of you.
“Are you sure.”
“Take me Simon, I’m yours.”
That’s all he needed to hear, his fat head spreading your wet folds apart as he pushing into you. It’s been a minute since he’s been in you but your walls always seemed to mold around him so nicely, those gorgeous sounds you made slipping from your lips as he started moving.
The sound of skin slapping as he fucked into your poor cunt, you drooled for him. He knew how to make a mess out of you, your nails digging into his back as he bullied your pretty pussy. Even with every hard thrust he loved you so well, kissing you so tenderly as your cried out to him. You soft whimpers pleading for him drive him crazy this is how he knew you where his, his to destroy, his to love.
Your finger tangled his his blonde curls tugging on them as he made love to you cradling your head your knees pressed to your chest, he felt every inch of you. “Please don’t stop Si, god please don’t stop.” You cried out.
He didn’t the tightness of your walls staring to clamp around him was enough to bring him to his edge the moans that escaped your lips was enough to make him cum knowing that he made you this way. Your body folded into a mating press as you came on his fat cock. Your pleds for him to cum in you, that you wanted him to fill you marking you as his once again make you need him for days after. His thick seed filling up your puffy cunt, his white nut spilling out the sides as he fucked it into you.
“Common take it, yeah atta girl fucking take it.” He growled pumping in and out of you your nails digging into his biceps the feeling of his thick nut filling you making your eyes roll back.
His cock still in you as he sat up letting your legs fall down your chest falling up and down heavily, your body glistening from sweat. You were gonna be walking funny the next morning that’s for sure, “I didn’t hurt you right?” He asks his calluses hands gliding up and down your torso.
You shook your head no, “good..” he said leaning down kissing your lips tenderly.
“Let’s get you cleaned up yeah..”
.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
Simon smut!! I have a Johnny one coming sooner or later!!
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silassinclair · 2 months
Text
Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader
CW// Possession, Obsession, Yandere Behavior, Jealousy, Suggestive Content, Gaslighting, Maddox has a housewife fetish (16+)
Masterlist
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When Maddox first saw you hiding in your wardrobe after having killed your Father he was shocked to see such a pretty woman inside. He knew your Father had a daughter but he didn't know she'd be a fierce and beautiful young woman.
Maddox knew he had to have you. No way was he going to leave you in this bumfuck town in the middle of no where. You're too valuable.
He ties you up and takes you away from your hometown. You're his now so he's taking you with him wherever he goes. Having a pretty little accessory like you will give him bragging rights after all.
He takes you to saloons while he plays cards with his buddies. Has you sit still and look pretty on his lap while he drinks and plays. His friends say dirty things about you. Commenting on how submissive you are for Maddox. Maddox eats their comments up like a full course meal.
"You boys wish you had this fine piece of ass. But she's mine."
When you're at his temporary house he has you play housewife. You cook his food, clean his laundry, and most importantly you take him like a good girl and let him use you to pleasure himself.
"You like that yeah? You don't? Then shut your pretty little mouth n' take it anyway. Don't make me mad now."
But over the course of a few months and after spending more time with you he sees you less as an object to brag about and more as a companion. He sees you everyday so of course he develops feelings. Feelings he denies of course.
"You think cus' I'm being nice lately you can just skip doin' laundry? Well you've been a good girl this week so I'll let it slide... But you're doin' it tomorrow! No excuses!"
Maddox takes you to the saloon with him again as usual. This time the sexual comments his friends say make him see red. He draws his gun and shoots them all dead where they sit.
"I should have never let em' say that vulgar shit bout' you. Shoulda never let you in that shithole in the first fuckin' place. C'mon, we're goin' home."
Fucks you gently this time and prioritizes your pleasure over his. You're so cute mewling beneath him. Praises you instead of degrades you.
"You can take it princess, c'mon! Don't tell me to slowdown when I can feel how good you feel on me. Yeah that’s it, good girl. Doin’ so good for me… Ya’ feel divine~"
He slowly starts bringing you into town less often. When you ask why you can't come with him he simply says that you're safer at home.
A month goes by and you're tired of being holed up in his house. So you take the risk and leave while he's taking his afternoon nap.
Bad Choice….
"You thought you could leave me?! Baby I love ya', I really do but sometimes you're real fuckin' stupid."
Locks the doors, windows, and always has his eye on you. When he has to go out he keeps you tied to the bed by the ankle.
Every night he holds you close to him. He's a light sleeper, he'll feel if you move and try to escape him. If that happens he'll embrace you in a nearly bone crushing hug.
He’ll wrestle with you if you try and fight him, but he’ll never strike you. He’d never do that after seeing the abuse his Mother endured from her customers at the brothel.
Comes home one day with two golden rings. He wears one and forces the other onto your ring finger. It's a perfect fit.
"You're my wife now and I'm your husband. You'll address me as such, got it?"
No wedding, no priest, no judge, no documentation. He says you're his wife now and that's that.
"There's names engraved inside the rings.? That's just the name of the jeweler I got it from... Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
You two never get to settle down. You hop from one abandoned home to the other. After all he needs to always be on the run from the law. It's a stressful but exhilarating lifestyle. Danger lurks at every corner.
Loves calling you by his last name. Though your last name is still legally L/n; Maddox says that since you’re his wife you have his last name. After all you two are wearing the rings to prove it!
"Thank you for the meal Mrs. Graves, God you're perfect. Where have you been all my life?"
He adores your body. Doesn't matter what body type you have. Chub? He's kneading it with his hands while he praises you like the goddess you are. Insecure about how the outline of your ribcage is visible? He traces his fingers down to your tummy and then goes even lower... He can't keep his hands off.
Favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and just press your backside against him while you do chores. It feels so domestic and it makes him feel like he isn’t a wanted criminal for a moment.
Kisses? He loves to kiss you! His favorite spots are your ankles, tummy, and forehead. And your lips ofc!
Whenever you have to slip your stockings on he swats your hands away and does it. He’ll pull them up sensually and slowly, trailing kisses from your ankle up to your thigh as he does so.
“Your skin’s so soft princess, just wanna take a bite. You’ll let me right?”
He loves animals. His horse Jasper is his best friend. Jasper won't let anyone ride him except for you and Maddox. Anyone else gets thrown off and stomped on.
Since this is the 1800’s people don’t really bathe as often. But Maddox is different. He can’t stand having grime on him for too long after you called him stinky once. So now he bathes more often than most. And you bathe with him too. You have no choice in the matter.
“Mmm love it when you wash my hair sweetheart… Ya’ fingers feel like heaven..”
Maddox is a tough guy. He's taken bullets, stabs, you name it. He even survived a hanging once. If anything happens to you he'll fight God himself just to keep you safe. Even if it costs him his life.
"GET YA' MEATHOOKS OFF MY WIFE YOU FUCKIN' ANIMALS!"
Tells you he loves you everyday. And if you don't say it back? Well he'll just bug you until you say it. After your "marriage" he doesn't really punish you anymore. You’re his partner for life, you deserve the world.
Respects women. His Mother worked in a brothel so he witnessed how men mistreated women. He could never do that to you... Even though he did early in your relationship. But he'll never admit that! Bring it up and he'll call you crazy.
"Sweetheart I never harmed a hair on your head, quit talkin' nonsense."
Teaches you how to fire a gun just in case. Hopefully you'll never have to use the skill though.
Spoils you whenever he can. Maddox has a decent amount of money but it's still pretty tight. Buying you things isn't an option because being on the run means you need to have minimal baggage. So he treats you to dinners and cute little dates.
Overtime you get used to this life. You forget he ever even killed your old man.
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Anyone is free to request anything! Don't be shy! I'm hyperfixiating on this oc so I'll happily write anything for him. As long as it isn't blatant NSFW :-)
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katz-chow · 6 months
Text
of apple pies and bloody knives chapter one: a haze in the fields
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warnings: pilot to slasher!graves x fem!reader, hallucinations, hauntings, paranoia
word count: 1,000
Amber waves of grains only applied to two parts of the United States, the Midwest, and Texas. Even with being one of the most well-known lines within American patriotism, one must see the image of urban life rather than endless fields of golden. Flat plains rolled by the windows of her small Chevy, the peaked window caused strands of brown hair to dance in the warm, late summer air. Over her shoulder in the back of the Impala, boxes of essentials clinked and clattered whenever the pavement proved to be porous
Sporadically hitting small towns on the way to her destination, fields turned into hills and then back to drier, rougher patches of empty land, a white dot of a house on the horizon. Orange clouds illuminated the sky as she turned on her lights, and a wave of dread washed over her. The rear view mirror showed nothing but sun-bleached tar and rocky hills behind her. For a pretty girl, even in the absence of men, she will never find peace, now or ever.
The familiar glow of a 7-11’s enthralled her like a moth to a flame, welcoming her back to civilization and the safety net of a crowd. The chill of a Montanan night shivered through her, arms tight on her chest as the wind whistled a soft tune. ‘No more than 20 minutes…’ She promised herself, stepping through the blast of air.
It didn’t even take 15 when she was back on the road again, tank full, bladder emptied, and switchblade thankfully still closed. Making good time, she started up her ending journey to Marburn, Montana. Never heard of it? Good. She checks the time on the dash of her car, ‘11:32 PM’ it read. It was late and late is always bad for a girl. She steps on the gas.
“How long you gon’ be here for, Sweetheart?” The extended-stay motel clerk asked as he thumbed the toothpick between his lips. The teal paint smothered the crackled walls behind him mixed with the fluorescent lights made him look greenish, hair flowing from the desk fan not escaping this effect either.
She fished for her credit card from her wallet and slid it across the counter to him, “Hopefully for a while, but let’s just say 2 weeks for now.”
Her eyes darted over his face, taking in his image just in case. His patchy stubble and tired eyes lent the appearance of a raccoon.
The man shrugged and swiped her card, a satisfying ding echoed from the machine. “$79 for the first week, then it’s $65 for the next, you got that?”
She continued to stare at him, her eyes empty and dead set on the space between his eyes, almost as if in a daze. “Yes, sir.” She whispered.
She took back her card from his hand and the small key to her room. The clock hit midnight as she tugged on her luggage into the damp and dingy motel room.
Locking the door behind her, she also closed the blinds, hanging up a tarp covering the windows as well. She hid. The room was small, with a bed, a pull-out couch, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette with a gas stove, fridge, and microwave. It was doable for the next few weeks, until she can confirm her work and boarding. That, however, was a task for the future. It all resembled a college dorm except if the student had paid extra to get a suite; she smiled just knowing she wasn’t back in that dump, but her smiled dropped into a thinned-lipped frown knowing she was never far from him.
She thought about the boxes of dishes and other necessities in the back seat of her car, debating on whether or not to risk the trip. Her fingers opened the blinds, face nearing in on the dust and eyes peaked between the plastic. Her eyes traveled to the white Chevy parked upfront, the diamond frame of her license plate peeled off. The empty voids mixed with the glittering crystals reminded her of the emptiness in beehives; some filled with honey and nectar while others were left abandoned, hollowed out as if only there to just be there. She sympathized with them as she looked away, catching sight of the innate feeling of danger.
A pair of eyes stared at her, a figure just out on the other side of the parking lot. The figure stood, hunched over a car trunk and turned backward towards her, eyes peering in like a mannequin. His face etched an image of a familiarity, a far she could never forget as he wore the faded red hoodie that she had stolen from him just months prior, laughter bubbled up in them both.
Now, even that thick, old hoodie couldn’t shield the chill than sprinted down her spine, her ears pooling with blood as her heart drummed a solid allegro in her chest. Her stomach growled. It was getting too late in the night, she thought, not worth the trip. Her fingers relaxed as she pulled herself away from the empty parking lot, only her white Chevy in front.
If there she could describe the room in one mood, unsettling would be the word. Dim, yellow lights caused all the shadows on the peeling wallpaper to enhance itself with long shadows, always looming over her seemingly small form. Despite this, she still found the warmth and comfort of tight sheets in a made bed. It wasn’t heavy like how she would remember her bed at home–or well, what was home, but it was better than the back of her car.
Sleep cradled her in its arms, rocking her to a blissful, silent slumber–which was appreciated in comparison to the long nights of sweat-drenched nightmares and paranoia. She was okay, she chanted in her head, convincing herself and the monster that is anxiety and intrusive thoughts. New environment, new life, new identity, she is truly scattered to the winds; a field of dandelions. 
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months
Note
Congratulations in 5K, wow that's amazing and I'm so happy for you!
Could you please write a Graves drabble (he doesn't get enough love) where he's just so absolutely in love with his SO? Like standing back, leaning against a door frame, and watching his partner do something as mundane as the dishes or drawing? Him softly smiling as his SO hums or does something subconsciously??
I love your writing. Thank you for being my comfort writer.
—Love Echoes In Silence
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞
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You dip your soapy hands back into the water, grabbing another plate before moving it over to the side to rinse its white porcelain face—finally setting it down in the plastic dish rack. Shifting back over, you hum under your breath and grab another, snatching up the washing rag as well to get rid of any residual germs. 
You’d only been at this for about ten minutes; the dishes from last night were left for this morning on account of Phillip coming home early. You’d both had a soft supper with a few glasses of red wine before retiring to bed, where the man was still asleep in the ruffled sheets as his bare skin lay in the rising sunlight; his stomach to the mattress and his hair sticking this way and that. It had been a chore to sneak out from under his arm, but you’d done it nonetheless even if it had taken a few minutes. One delicate kiss to Phillip’s forehead later, you’d slipped into his large t-shirt and padded to the kitchen. 
So, here you are, cleaning up with a smile on your lips and sleepy heat under Phillip’s shirt. A slow hum echoing through the air. 
Another dish is added to the clean pile, and as you grasp one of the dirty wine glasses, you miss the small creak of the floor leading to the kitchen as you listen to the birds outside. 
Phillip rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, yawning slowly before he pushes back his hair and watches. He’s only in his sweatpants—the gray color bunched as the un-tied waistband hangs at his hips. Blinking at you, a slow twitch goes across the man’s lips as he leans to the side, his shoulder to the door frame. 
He doesn’t speak—doesn’t utter anything as his arms cross over his chest and you continue your shapeless tune. Phillip isn’t a good man; he isn’t worthy of care or compassion. He’s done things that will follow him to his grave, the one he’d been digging himself since long before he met you. But there were moments like these where the light hit your body just right; where the house was silent and the floors were soft underfoot. 
Tiny moments that echoed like a call to home. 
You place the wine glass upside down to let the water drip out, wringing out the wash rag and unplugging the sink. You’d only begun washing your hands when your ears twitch to movement. A smile peels your lips.
“Mornin’,” Phillip mutters into your hair, hands sneaking around you until you’re held back to a bare chest. 
“Good morning,” you whisper, flicking off the water on your fingers. Your heart is light. “Sleep well?” 
He hums, squeezing you gently. 
“Come back t’bed.” Your chuckle makes him smile, eyes crinkling. 
“Phillip, I just got up.”
“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he pleads but doesn’t give you time to respond, arms bending to capture your legs and the span of your shoulders. You laugh as he hikes you into his hold—carrying you before your arms snap around his neck; curling into him. “Up ya get.”
“Really?” Your amused voice makes him look at you, raising one of his pale blows as he smirks softly. He brings you back to bed, tendrils of hair bouncing along the way. 
“Up and disappeared. You always leave the men with cold sheets and a yearnin’ in their hearts?” You roll your eyes, giggling into his neck. “You’ll be stickin’ right beside me today, Doll. That’s an order.”
All you do is kiss the corner of his mouth before he drops you both back onto the mattress.
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captainfern · 9 months
Note
Heyyy, I'm literally in love with your work and how you write Graves, so it would be amazing if you'd do him again. Honestly any scenario would be AMAZIIING
Anonymous asked: hope im not to late for requests but the noisy graves thing kinda enlightend me. instead of overstimulating him imagine edging him in kind of a risky place (a closet or shared bed/bathroom idfk lmao) and when he gets to loud after being told not to several times you simply take care of the problem by grabbing him by the hair and pushing him between your legs and caging him in with your thighs or simply just sitting on his face while he desperately tries to fuck the air😎
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
Dreams
Commander Phillip Graves x fem!reader
[“Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac]
[18+]
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•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
• summary - your commander can't get enough of the new recruit. you're the new recruit lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.5k • warnings - fem!reader, switch!reader and switch!graves, power imbalance? he's your superior so yeah i guess so, handjobs, oral [m!receiving], unprotected piv, praise, degradation kinda, semi-public sex?, oral [f!receiving- from the front and the backkkkkkk lmao], strong language
graves brainrot going wild rn sorry to any grave-antis in my followers
actually i'm not sorry this man is so boyfriend
apart from the fact that yk he's a traitor but i close my eyes and he's so boyfriend
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When your Commander called you into his office late one night, you expected you were going to be disciplined for something you did. You probably missed a target somehow, or you got distracted with a couple of the other shadows and missed a briefing. You couldn't really remember, but you do remember feeling anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach as you walked towards his office.
But, he wasn't mad at you, or intending to discipline you in the slightest. It was the complete opposite, actually.
You had always had a feeling your Commander favoured you over his other Shadows– lingering looks, gentle touches, whispered affirmations. He tended to guide you a bit more than the other Shadows, and always made sure you were the first in the chopper or plane during evac.
You thought it was because you were new. Maybe. But clearly, it was a lot more than that.
Evident by the way Graves had a hand to the back of your head, pushing your mouth further down onto his cock, throaty moans falling past his lips, blue eyes settled on your face. He watched you take more of him, inching your lips closer to the base, the tight heat of your mouth drawing more moans from him.
He had imagined you like this since the moment you joined the Shadow Company– god, you looked so pretty on your knees, so pretty with your lips wrapped around the girth of his cock, so pretty gagging around him as his tip skimmed the back of your throat.
Graves guided you gently, just like he did on missions, applying a light pressure to the back of your head and moving you closer. He pet your hair with his other hand, muttering between moans about how good you looked and how pretty you were. It made your cunt flutter within your underwear, which were slick against you.
He was so close, cock twitching inside the warmth of your mouth. You could feel him, taste the pre-cum coating your tongue. You hummed around him, and his eyes rolled, hips bucking and forcing the head of his cock against the back of your throat again. You gagged, a string of saliva escaping the corner of your stretched mouth, and Graves moaned your name.
"So close, baby..." He whispered, high off the feeling. His eyes fluttered closed as his climax loomed, and just as he felt it begin to crest, you pulled away from him with a pop of your lips.
Graves let out a guttural groan, bucking his hips. The reddened tip of his cock smeared over your closed lips as you smiled up at him, before you were grabbing his cock and pumping him. You squeezed him around the base, twisted near the tip, and watched as bead after bead of pre-cum dribbled from his slit.
The build-up of his orgasm flared again, and pleasure coursed through his veins as he focussed on the feel of your hand against him. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, watching the movement of your hand, then watching the expression on your face.
"Didn't think you'd be this noisy, Commander." You mused, pumping him faster, wet clicks sounding throughout the office.
Graves responded with a moan, his lips falling apart as he watched you stroke his cock. You placed another chaste kiss to the tip while you worked him with your hand, and his hips chased the contact when you pulled away. He let out a growled fuck.
You tutted. "You have to be quieter than that, sir. You wouldn't want one of your Shadows walking in here, would you?"
Graves choked on a groan. You raised your eyebrows at him, intrigued.
"Oh, you would like that?" You teased, stopping the movement of your hand. Graves gasped out, his cock throbbing heavily in your hand. He could feel his orgasm trickling away again and it made him let out an annoyed whine. You laughed. "You want one of your Shadows to find you like this? Getting jerked off by the new recruit? Acting like a cheap slut desperate for some pussy, aren't you, Commander?
"Oh, fuck–" He moaned quietly. "Don't t-talk to me like tha-ah-at. I'm your Comman– oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, oh my god–"
You slowly started stroking him again, and he was immediately babbling under his breath.
"You wanna come? You have to be quiet." You told him, before wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock while continuing to pump him. He whimpered quietly, holding onto your head, more for support than to guide you. He released muted hisses and deep groans trapped in his throat. You were making him feel so good.
He couldn't help getting louder.
His hisses and groans turned to moans and loud whines as he got closer and closer to orgasm, his head growing dizzy. He could smell your perfume and it was driving him insane.
"Come on, baby, come on–" He moaned loudly, and you couldn't help but sigh as you pulled your mouth and hand away from him and sat up. He let out a loud, desperate plea through a groan, chest heaving as you ran your hand up his abs.
"No, no, baby, m'so– fuck, m'so close–"
"I told you to be quiet, Graves," you said, situating yourself on the edge of his desk. Through glossy eyes, he looked over at you, and his face lit up when you dragged your underwear down your legs and spread them. "So if you're not going to be quiet, I guess I'll have to put your mouth to better use."
You paused, then smiled. "On your knees."
Graves dropped to his knees and shuffled towards you, wrapping his hands around the flesh of your thighs, squeezing and pinching lightly. You grabbed the back of his head, and pushed his face towards your dripping core. He responded with a grateful moan before his mouth was sealing over your clit, and his tongue was moving against it.
You bit your lip to stifle the moans threatening to escape. He worked his tongue against you, warm and rigid, gliding between your folds and circling around and over your clit. You felt him move in a particular pattern, and it took you little over a second to realise what he was doing. He was spelling his name against your clit.
You gripped at his hair, and he groaned into your cunt, muffled.
Between the spelling of Phillip and Graves, he slipped his tongue into your wet hole, licking up the arousal that had pooled while you had sucked him off. He moaned happily, eyes closing as your thighs clamped around him. His cock, hard and leaking painfully against his abdomen, twitched as he swallowed the taste of you. He rutted into the air in time with the thrusts of his tongue. Then, he was dragging the flat of his tongue back up your folds, before spelling Graves across your swollen clit.
Cocky son of a bitch, you thought as your orgasm trembled within you, making your legs clamp heavier around his him. Not that your Commander minded, anyway, considering he moaned desperately each time your leg muscles flexed around his head.
"M'gonna come," you whispered, keeping him trapped between your legs. "Open your mouth and take it all, Commander, go on–"
He did as he was told with a content hum, trailing his tongue back down your folds before circling your dripping hole. Graves licked inside slowly as you came around his tongue, your back arching and eyes rolling. Your orgasm hit you like a train as he fucked you through it, tongue lapping up as much he could, the rest dribbling down his chin. You released your thighs from around him, but he didn't move.
Graves continued to lick into your sopping cunt, moaning quietly to himself as he did so. You let out a breathy moan, your grip tightening in his blond locks. The feeling made him groan, and he finally detached from you with a furrow in his brows, his entire lower face slick with his saliva and your arousal.
"Still desperate for it, are you?" You smiled down at him, before he was getting to his feet and closing the distance.
He slammed his mouth to yours, invading yours with his tongue. You tasted yourself as he licked into your mouth, teeth clashing as he pulled you closer to him with his hands to the small of your back. He ground you down onto his throbbing cock, your slick cunt sliding against him, making him groan into your mouth. The head of his cock, glistening with pre-cum and saliva, dragged between your folds, spreading your arousal against you. You mewled out as, with one last swipe of his tongue against yours, he pulled away.
"S'enough of that," he grumbled, his eyes flickering away from a submissive kind of desperate to a, well, Commander kind of desperate. "Turn around."
You did as you were told with a smile, locking eyes with him the entire time you hopped off the desk and proceeded to bend over it, peering at him over you shoulder. He grunted, slotting his hips to your arse, rubbing his cock lightly against your entrance. He grabbed a handful of your arse with his free hand and kneaded the flesh. He let go, and brought his hand back down with a solid smack.
It was loud, and made your body flare hot.
You went to moan, but you were cut off as Graves thrusted into you in one heavy movement, pulling the air from your chest and making you choke on your pleasured gasp. You could only breath out shakily as he withdrew his cock and then pushed into you again. He grabbed your hips, fucking you back onto him, the sound of skin on skin echoing through his office.
"You had your fun, didn't you, baby?" He asked, bringing one hand down to knead the flesh of your arse. You braced for another smack, but it didn't come. Yet.
You nodded, whimpering. "Yeah–"
Graves brought his hand down onto your arse cheek hard again, and this time, you released a moan of his name. He chuckled behind you, soothing your stinging flesh with his fingers.
"Yeah, you had fun teasing me?" He mused, slamming his fat cock into you, pushing you further and further against the desk. You moaned in response, and he chuckled darkly again. "I could tell, baby. This pussy was fucking soaked for me. Absolutely fucking soaked."
Both of Graves' hands found your hips again and fucked you back onto him. He curled some of his body over you, and you could feel his solid warmth over your back. You soon felt his lips at the curve of your neck, tongue swiping over your bra strap.
"God, such a tight pussy, sucking me in so good, baby," he whispered in your ear, hips rocking against your arse, cock heavy inside you. "Been thinking of this since you arrived, you know that? Been wanting to feel you n' taste you since you first reported to me."
You moaned, cheek pressed against the cold desk, arms scrambling to keep you grounded against the sleek wood.
"Good girl, you like that? You like your Commander thinking about this pretty, wet cunt?" Graves teased, and you moaned again. He placed kisses along your shoulder, and then up your neck, before skimming his lips along the shell of your ear. "Tha's right, baby. I came all over my sheets thinking about this pussy. Made such a mess thinkin' about you."
His accent was growing stronger. You were panting against the desk, whispers of his name and rank falling past your lips as he rutted into you. The tip of his cock hit that spot inside you every time, and you wondered why you didn't let him fuck you sooner.
He groaned in your ear, the sound made you throb around him.
"M'so close, baby. Want you to come 'round me. You can do that, can't you?"
You nodded against the desk because you were so close too– your orgasm building tight in your abdomen, your legs trembling, knees knocking against the front of the desk. You let out a string of whines and whimpers, your clit throbbing.
"Come for me," Graves whispered as his thrusts gradually became more desperate. "Come for me like a good girl. Want to feel this pretty cunt squeeze 'round me, baby."
With one last heavy thrust of his cock to that spongey spot inside you, you came around him.
"Commander." You mewled as you clenched, milking his cock as your orgasm rattled through you. Your cunt leaked around him, arousal squelching loudly, wetness running down the insides of your thighs where he spread you open.
Graves moaned, rutting into you, chasing his high. You were so wet around him, so warm and tight. He screwed his eyes shut, leaning back so he could drive deeper into you, clutching at your hips and squeezing the soft flesh. He let out a moan of your name, followed by deep grunts amongst his laboured breaths.
He groaned again. "You gonna let me come inside, baby? You gonna let me fill this pretty pussy?"
You couldn't respond, brain turning to mush. You whimpered at him, hoping he could see you trying to nod.
"Yeah, tha's it, take it, fucking take what I give you," he whispered. "Take my cock... tha's it, baby, good girl."
He came inside you, filling you with a moan of your name. He thrusted further, stuffing you full, making you whine out at him to slow down. He did, lazily rutting his cock in and out, some of his seed dropping down your thighs, making you shiver. He pulled out, then pushed you further up the desk until your feet were barely touching the ground.
He crouched behind you, and you mewled as you felt him spread your folds with his middle finger and forefinger, revealing your fluttering hole, leaking with the heady mixture of both your cum. You heard him groan, before you felt his tongue swipe against you, pushing into your cunt and curling.
You caught a loud moan in your throat. "Graves, what–"
He licked his spend from you, also pushing more in with each thrust of his tongue. His face against the curve of your arse, he grumbled against your soft skin, and your body was quick to grow hot again. He spent a good minute or so behind you, groping your arse cheeks, rubbing your thighs, before standing back up with a satisfied smirk on his face.
He gently turned you around and wrapped his arms around you, sinking the both of you to the floor in front of his desk.
Graves placed a kiss to your temple. "Y'alright, doll?"
You hummed tiredly. "Mhm."
He chuckled quietly, placing another kiss to the top of your head. "You want to sleep?"
"Mhm."
"Come on, I'll take you back to my room."
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here’s a gif of warren just cause he’s so fine
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AHHHH
that is all
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awarrenswhore · 4 months
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Not an Affair (M)
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→ pairing | Phillip Graves x Reader
→ genre | smut, angst, domestic au! Fem!reader.
→ word count | 3,415
→ summary | You ended up getting involved with one of your parents' friends after getting back from college, had a few hot nights with him until you discovered he was married. You ended up developing feelings for him, but after finding out that he hadn't signed the divorce papers yet, you decide to throw everything in his face and end the affair. But god only knows how persuasive Phillip can be.
→ warnings |sex, Adult content, alcoholic beverages, low slang words. unprotected sex. cheating (the reader helps him to cheat or something like that)
→ A/N| I don't know what came over me, I just decided I was going to write a smut with Phillip Graves. English is not my first language so sorry for my mistakes. It's kind shitty lol
When you finally returned home, Phillip was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter with a bottle of Whiskey in front of him and two glasses. One of them was half finished, and the other was empty. As if he was waiting for someone to drink with him.
He was looking out of the window, sipping his whiskey and just staring out. When you got home he didn't even glance at you, he was just lost, trying not to think about the words you had said earlier. When he saw you enter the kitchen he looked up at you with a pained look in his eyes. He had already started drinking the whiskey hoping that it would numb the pain and make the conversation easier but he was just making things worst. He was feeling desperate to say something or get this over with because the longer it took the more the anxiety was building up inside of him. "Can I talk to you?"
You couldn’t help but feel like you should ignore him, act as if nothing had ever happened. But those sad blue eyes didn't let you continue on your way to your room. Then you walked to the other side of the counter, facing him.
His mind was already a mess of emotions, and now seeing your face made his heart beat uncontrollably fast. The anxiety he felt was at the peak and he just wanted to tell you everything so he could get this moment over with. You could see that he was trying to hide his pain but it was so evident that it would be impossible to not spot. He took one last sip of his whiskey and poured you a glass hoping you would join him.
You looked at the glass, then at him, and back at the glass, taking it in your hands and taking a sip. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"
"No" he said, taking a sip from his whiskey. "I just want us to get our minds relaxed. The last thing I wanna do is have this conversation while our minds are clouded, this is important to both of us."
"Okay, go ahead."
He took a deep breath in and let it out. Then he slowly began to speak. "the past few weeks we've been spending time together I thought we had something more. You felt different. But it all changed today when you threw my words back in my face like I was just using you for my own satisfaction, not once did I ever think that our relationship was just based on sex."
You shook your head, waiting for him to continue, too tired to argue.
"You didn't even try to listen to me. You just decided to get up and leave and I felt my heart crush into pieces when you said all of that to me. It's not right because what we had was not just sex. What we had was real, it was a true bond but it all seemed to mean nothing to you. I was hoping I could convince you to come back to me, but how can I do that if you refuse to believe me? You're too stuck in this stupid idea that I was only with you to have fun."
At times like this, I should use my smart mouth, but I felt like if I said something, it would only make the situation worse and we would fight again. You thought, just taking another sip of the drink and continued listening to him.
"You see the way I look at you every day, the way you make my heart feel like it's going to jump out of my chest, how could it have been only about fun? I'm sure you felt this way too, how could you not? The way my body responds to yours. We never acted selfishly or without thinking, I knew when I went in bed with you that I would get attached, I knew the risks and I knew what it meant to my life. You said all those cruel words and it felt like I've just been thrown away." He paused "I'm divorcing her... I just, i'm not the one for her. And she's not the one for me, you are. I wasn't just using you for your body. I've found someone that I felt was meant by me and it's you. I want you to be mine." Your silence was making him uncomfortable "Will you please just be reasonable and talk to me?"
You took a deep breath, staring at your empty glass. You wet your lips with your tongue before looking at him. “I Already told you how this situation bothers me and I know I shouldn't have gotten involved with you. But there's nothing I can do. You are the person who has to make a decision here, not me." you said calmly.
The moment he heard those words he felt like a sharp knife had stabbed him in the heart. You refused to talk to him and he wanted so badly for you two to work out. The marriage was already over so there was nothing stopping him from just ending it now and being with you. But now it all came crashing down on him when you said that there was nothing you could do. His eyes were locked into yours as he stood up from the chair and walked up very close to you, looking down at your face. "I already made my choice," he said softly "this whole time you were the one for me."
"I don't believe you." you said looking right at his eyes.
"Just let me show you." His eyes were filled with pain and desperation, he wasn't planning to let you get away this easily. "I'll do anything to prove to you that it was more than sex. How can you say you have feelings for me and then just shut me down at the same time? It doesn't make sense and I know you still have feelings for me too. You can't deny that. Please, let us talk about this."
"The only thing I know is that while we're having this conversation, you're still married to her. And until that ends, I won't fall for your charms again." You said decidedly. "You want me? You'll have me the day you sign the divorce papers. Until then, don't touch me." I got up.
His heart skipped a beat the moment you put the conditions so easily. "So... So you're saying you will take me back... Once I sign the papers?"
"If you sign the papers."
The excitement he felt at that moment was unbearable. He could already see the two of you together and living as a real couple. "I will." he said firmly, not even hesitating a bit.
Seconds later, they heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Your mother's figure appeared in the kitchen, smiling. "Hey, what are you guys doing? Drinking? Pour me another glass because we need to celebrate." She said laughing, grabbing a glass for herself. "I got promoted at work." She said. That whole situation, you needed to put a smile on my face. "Congratulations, Mom."
The both of you had to act like there was nothing wrong between you two and it would be one of the hardest things to do right now. Your mother was being way too happy and had her full attention on the two of you. It was impossible to have a serious conversation now or to leave. She just had the best news and she deserved to be happy so you both had to act as if nothing was wrong and nothing was about to change.
"I'd like to stay to celebrate, but Ryan asked me out today. So I'd better go." you said taking short steps towards the door.
"Oh come on, can't you stay for at least a little bit?" your mother said. “Your Father is coming to celebrate too, he will be home soon.” She was excited to celebrate, it was odd that you were just leaving all of a sudden, The idea of you going out with Ryan made him feel like he was going to throw up.
"it's just a little celebration, it'll be fun." Graves tried to stay calm, not wanting to show the jealous in his eyes. "Once we finish, i'll take you to him."
You looked into his eyes. "No need, I'll take a cab." Phillip has no right to be jealous of me. You thought.
"I insist." He replied firmly "I'll take you."
"I'm just going to take a quick shower and come back." Your mother said going upstairs, leaving you and Graves alone again.
"And i said that i don't need you to take me, Phillip."
He was fighting the urge to scream internally. His fists clenched tight and he had to force his mouth from saying things that he would regret. "just listen to me for a minute. I know you don't need me to take you, ok? Just let me do it. I insist."
"Why? Just so you know where I'm going? For what? So you can show up there and ruin my date?”
The words were cutting him like a knife. He didn't even deny the reasons you gave him because they were true, he was going to ruin the date. He was jealous and you just made him acknowledge it. "Yes... That's why."
"You can't do that. I already told you, I will be yours the day you sign the divorce papers, until then, you will not touch me. But other guys will. Because if you can fuck her, I can fuck other guys."
That hit him like a bullet to the chest. Your words hurt him way more than if you had just slapped his face. The jealousy and the anger were making him furious, to realize that you could possibly meet other men made him feel sick to death. He couldn't let that happen, he wanted you, only you. Suddenly a wave of anger invaded his body and Phillip let his intrusive thoughts control him. He grabbed your throat and pushed you against the fridge, putting one hand behind your head so it wouldn't hit the fridge and hurt you. His breathing became heavy, and he placed his forehead against yours, lowering his face to your neck, smelling you, smelling your scent before pressing himself against you, trapping you between him and the refrigerator. He moistened his lips and pressed them together, alternating his gaze between your eyes and your mouth before focusing on your eyes.
"If you ever let another man touch you, I will kill them."
You couldn't help feeling excited by his actions, your entire body shivering with his words, the possessiveness that you had never seen in his eyes gave him even more charm and the desire you had to open your legs for him and let him ravishes you was almost uncontrollable. But you wouldn't let him think he was in control. “I don’t believe you.” You provoked him.
"You will." he hissed between his teeth, his voice sounding threatening as he pressed his lips and caressed your neck, with this eyes locked onto yours. You started to feel dizzy from his touch, and the smell of whiskey was heavy on his breath. His mouth was so close to yours and it made you feel so hot and weak. His body was pressing even harder against yours, and the air was becoming thick to breath. "I own you." he whispered against your lips "Don't you forget that." He said before kissing you passionately.
You felt like he had manipulated you, but when his lips met your, you forgot everything, your mind went blank and you could only press your body against his, desperate for more contact. Moaning against his lips, your hands went to his hair, and Graves's free hand went to your thigh, lifting it and fitting between your legs. His kiss was aggressive and breathtaking, and his right hand squeezed your throat using the right pressure to not leave you completely breathless, while his left hand stuck his fingers into your skin, the pain causing you more pleasure.
Your moans sent him over the edge, causing his grip to become tighter, his movements becoming rough and his kiss more urgent. As his fingers pressed into your skin you felt the intense sensation of his hand exploring your body. The combination of the pain and pleasure was making you feel all sorts of feelings that you never felt before. His mouth was still locked with yours and the sensation of him kissing you was getting more and more intense. Your mind was starting to blur and there was nothing else but the sensation of his touch and your body. He was getting close to kissing your neck and exploring everything and the thought of him exploring your body like this was making you shiver in pleasure and anticipation. He was losing control over you and he was making you his, there was no other way to explain it. He didn't think about anything else in that particular moment but being as rough as he wanted with you. His hands squeezed your skin and your body with all his force, not stopping till he felt like he had drained the last drop of your pleasure and desire for him.
Your cell phone started ringing on the counter, looking over Phillip's shoulder you could see that the caller ID was Ryan’s name. "I need to answer."
The ringing of your phone was the last thing he wanted to hear. He was so consumed by his desire to make you his again that the thought of another man calling your phone, or you answering it, was causing him pure rage. A wave of jealousy started to overwhelm him. Ryan, he couldn't stand the thought of your date still happening. He had to do something to stop it. And he would.
Graves didn't waste any more time, he let go of your throat, and unbuttoned his own pants and lowered them along with his underwear just enough for his hard cock to be free, he took advantage of the fact that your thigh was still around his waist and slipped his hand under your dress, pushing your panties to the side before pushing his cock into your soaked entrance, making you moan loudly as he filled you completely. He started to pound hard against you, so hard that the fridge behind you was shaking and banging against the wall behind it. It was impossible to control your moans, throwing your head back with your eyes closed, the feeling of being filled by him was too strong and you could barely breathe without letting out a grunt of pleasure.
Phillip smiled, ecstatic at that scene, seeing you so at his mercy. He then reached back, taking your cell phone, and without stopping his thrusts, he answered it. "(y/n)'s cell phone, who is it?" He asked and you immediately opened your eyes, widening them, letting out a loud moan when he gave a hard thrust, hitting your spot. You couldn't think of anything, you didn't even try to take the cell phone from his hand.
"Who are you?" The male voice on the other end of the line asked harshly.
"Do you hear that noise, asshole?" Graves said through gritted teeth. "That's the sound of my cock making (y/n) cum. Don't ever call her again, she already has an owner." And so he turned off the cell phone, throwing it on the floor and using his arm to hug the you, kissing you furiously while thrusting with speed, strength and skill. Graves grabbed your other thigh, pulling towards his waist having complete control of the situation, grunting and thrusting into your pussy like it was the end of the world.
And it didn't take long for both of you to reach climax.
You were breathing heavy, trying to normalize, your hearts beating in sync, sweat running down your bodies.
"What the fuck did you just do?" you asked, your arms Around his neck, hyperventilating.
"Nothing" he replied between his breaths "I'm just letting him know to stay away from you. I just claimed what was mine. I don't need another man bothering you." His breath was heavy and his voice was still filled with anger.He was leaning his body towards yours, his breathing was extremely heavy and you could feel his breath hitting your face, making you shiver. "That was a very pleasant feeling." He said with some difficulty, his voice was rough and his breath was full of desperation. "Do you know what else is going to be a very pleasant feeling? I will break anyone who dares come near you and that includes Ryan there. You are mine and mine only you hear me?" he said pressing his head into the side of your neck.
"Yeah, i hear you." You whispered. All your defenses were down and you felt like you were fucked.
A wave of pleasure and excitement had overwhelmed him and the thought of you giving in to him had made him feel so strong that he couldn't contain himself. "Good girl" he then began kissing your neck and caressing your back, pulling you towards him. You felt his finger trail down the back of your leg and pull up your dress. This was a feeling you loved and it made the both of you want each other even more. If only he could make you feel this way all the time...
"Fuck! My mom is upstairs." A wave of realization washed over and you pushed Phillip away, feeling his juices spill down your thighs. "Shit, if she finds us like this, she's going to be pissed." I picked up my phone from the floor. "Damn, what if she heard?"
"Shhh... She didn't hear anything." his voice was whispering close to your ear. The thought of your mother walking into this scene made him nervous as well, he didn't want to make this situation worse. "Just go to your room and clean yourself up. I'll clean the floor here." he replied hastily as he pulled up his pants and buttoned them. His body was sweating and his breathing was still heavy due to the intense pleasure the two of you had just experienced. "But don't even try to sneak out of your window to go to that stupid date."
"Well, it's not like I can now, you seem to have made it pretty clear to Ryan that I already have someone, he won't ever want to talk to me again, you idiot."
"Good" he grinned, satisfied at the fact that Ryan would no longer be a threat. "Besides, you're better off without him. You would be just another one in his long list of ex's. You don't need that. You need someone who is going to love you and take care of you and I am the only one who can do that."
"I'm not even going to try argue with you right now." you rolled my eyes and runned to the second floor.
While he cleaned up the mess that the two of you made inside the kitchen, he thought about what had just happened. The thought of that guy taking you out on a date and probably trying to do something intimate with you had filled him with so much rage that the thought of him touching you had made him go crazy. The jealousy and the desire had overwhelmed him and you didn't even fight back. You enjoyed every second of it, and he made sure that this feeling would continue and you would never have to worry about anyone else touching you. He smiled, satisfied that you had agreed to cancel your date and that you were going to be at home that night. The feeling that he had accomplished his mission made him want to jump and kick his legs, like a child. He was feeling euphoric and the only thought that was crossing his mind was having you to himself, without any other man in the picture. Graves was finally feeling like a human again.
all rights reserved — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.
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dmitriene · 2 months
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thinking about domestic philip graves — the softest, he's a crude and cunny man, he was involved in too much to be considered as a good person, because philip is able to kill, to lie smoothly, to use anyone he wants to for his own good.
but it's the side that he buried himself, deep down, so you, his prettiest wifey, would live the domestic life from your best dreams, shared with your lovely husband that takes the best care of you.
phill almost doesn't let you lift a finger up, insisting to be on your beck and call, and who could thought that someone like graves would be so sickly sweet, but here it is, where he's standing on your spacious bright kitchen and cooks delicious breakfast.
that's your phillip, exactly one that others can't see at all, with his straight brown hair tousled in different directions, letting the pale morning sun play with the bright strands and light freckles on his nose, rectangular glasses sitting low on the bridge.
this life puts him at ease, tending to the needs of his beloved one, forgetting about who he is and which patch he choiced, moving with a light sway of his hips as he reaches for seasonings, grey sweatpants sitting low to expose his light happy trail.
your eyes race over his lean back with appreciation, tracing the subtle movements of his muscles and thin red marks of your nails, something to stay on phill's skin after how well he treated you in bed, staying late to hover on top of your body that was sprawled beneath him, arms clinging to his back with each delicious drag of his long cock inside of your tight heat.
that's what makes him move so easily from early morning, contented grin on his thin lips as he moves the frying pan, missing the soft sound of bare feet padding against the floor, before your arms curl against his middle, plush lips pressing kisses against his naked back.
— “ah, good morning to my sweet pea„ philip almost sings, head moving to the side, stealing a glance of your eyes as he smiles ever so brightly, lips stretching wide to expose his sharp little fangs, and you can't but melt again, pressing tighter against your beloved man, which rips a chuckle out of him, before he sneaks a hand around the curve of your body, pressing you against his side tenderly.
that's the life he adores the most, just a simple routine with his precious wife.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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mrsphillipgraves · 1 month
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touch starved Phillip Graves x GN!Reader headcanons <3
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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.
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end of post ♡.
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yawnderu · 6 months
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A/N: We made it to 3k less than a month after I reached 2k followers 🥺<3!!
I was genuinely not expecting this when I first made my account, but so far I've gotten so much support and I've met so many lovely people. I'm always reading your comments and reblogs, you mfs are hilarious JFEHJBFEHJB💕Onto the nasty sinful monkey sex now.
Synopsis: tired of working a dead-end job with no rewards, your childhood best friend offers you a job at his company, promising the stress levels are minimal and the pay is good. You accept with no second thoughts, not realizing you were tricked into becoming a stress relief toy for his men.
CW: humiliation, hard sex, gangbang, double vaginal, triple penetration, unsafe sex, creampie, 14 vs 1, cum swallowing, bukkake, spit kink, cockdrunk reader, deepthroat, handjobs, size kink, watersports.
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Being a commander who saw his soldiers as family, Graves knew he always had to watch out for his men, reward them for their hard work and loyalty, and what better way to do that than with a sweet little thing like you? Their own personal stress relief toy, who was tricked into taking a job at the Shadow Company, yet so willing to please. So eager.
"You're enjoying this more than you should." He's teasing you, of course, yet his cocky expression does nothing to help the pooling warmth on your stomach. One of the shadows is sitting behind you, gloved hands hooked under your knees to keep your legs open while Graves grinded his clothed boner on your bare cunt, the fabric feeling almost painful if it wasn't for how wet you are.
"Maybe I am." You manage to reply, barely able to speak between whiny moans and soft gasps, his cock rubbing in all the right places, but the stimulation wasn't enough. No, he had been teasing you like this for the past 20 minutes, making his men watch as you became a putty mess in his hand. The shadows were men of discipline and self-control, keeping their hands folded politely behind their backs, ignoring their painful, throbbing cocks until their commander allowed them to use their brand new chew toy.
"I want you to know," He began, hand slipping under your chin firmly to force you to look up at him, hard cock rubbing faster up and down your cunt, pressing into you harder. "That I ain't playin' with you, Stray. My men will do anythin' I tell them to. Last chance to pull out." He warned and you shook your head no, his cocky smile growing even wider as his other hand went to squeeze your tit, looking for any signs of discomfort and much to his delight, seeing none.
"I can take it." The words are more of a reassurance to yourself, gaze drifting around the room and counting the men inside. 14, including Graves. You swallow thickly, nervous eyes drifting back to Graves, who simply raises an eyebrow in return, waiting for you to realize just how fucked up you are if you don't pull out.
"I can take it." You repeat, slowly believing the words more and more. He simply smiles and ruffles your hair affectionately, the same way he always did growing up.
"Attagirl." He pulled away from you and you can see the satisfaction in his eyes, knowing you'll do a good job for him. He nods to his men and they quickly get to work, hands groping you all over, long fingers entering your cunt roughly to the point you're becoming nothing but a whiny, whimpering mess. They're rough and impatient, your wrists being grabbed and forced onto their hard cocks until you're willingly jerking them off, hands barely able to wrap around their thick lengths. It's intimidating, yet so hot to be locked in a room full of hormonal, pent-up military men.
"On your knees." One of them commands, yet you're forced on your knees before you can even try to get up. Four cocks are in front of you and you begin sucking with no hesitation, eyes closing as you give into your role at the company. Your lips wrap around one of them, slowly taking him deeper until he gets too impatient and forces your head down to the base, the gagging noises your throat lets out simply making it feel better.
"Good girl." You don't even know who's praising you, but it's enough to give you the encouragement you needed, starting to bob your head up and down until you're pulled off the cock, a new one being shoved down your throat. They're using you— you know it, and you're letting them. You get passed around, tasting and sucking on different dicks while your hands keep themselves busy, deep moans and groans coming from above you. They get too impatient quick, the man you recognize as Oz wrapping his fingers on your hair, pulling on it until you willingly get up, throwing you into bed and opening your legs wide with brutal force. You look down, eyes widening as you see just jow thick he is.
"You said you could take it, ain't that right?" He uses your words against you, the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your folds, your head dropping back as a moan escapes your lips. That's all he needs for confirmation, hands firmly holding the curve of your waist before he buries his cock to the hilt in one thrust. A pained moan escapes your lips, eyebrows furrowing as your nails dig into his arm— the pretty, long acrylic nails Graves paid for earlier that day.
"Shit... S‐slow down, asshole." The way you struggle to take him is almost cute, a cocky smirk pulling on his lips as he shakes his head no once, holding onto you tighter while he slams in and out of you. You don't have much room to complain before another cock is being shoved into your face, your lips willingly wrapping around the tip, hollowing your cheeks while your tongue circles all over it. Your whiny moans are muffled as you slowly begin to suck more and more, the pleasure of being groped all over and being fucked good slowly getting rid of any hints of regret you may have.
"Fucking slut." Oz says, hand coming up to gently pinch and pull on your nipples while he fucks into you faster. All you can do is nod, tears dotting your eyelashes at the mix of pain and pleasure, using the cock in your mouth to cover up the embarrassing sounds escaping you from being a used like a whore. Your body is manhandled into another position, a different shadow underneath you who wastes no time on fucking into your cunt, filling you just as much as Oz was. Your hands are kept busy jerking off more cocks while your mouth is put into good use again, muffling the moan of protest that threatens to escape when you feel the tip of a dick teasing the entrance of your ass.
"Wait—" You manage to speak when the shadow takes his cock out of your throat to give you time to breathe, only to be interrupted by your throat being forced open again. You close your eyes tightly, trying your best to relax, the folds of your tight hole slowly being eased, the man is being surprisingly gentle for someone who holds so much power over you.
"Good girl." He praises softly, voice deep with desire, yet holding so much care. His hand gently caresses your ass as he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust before his hands rest on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock, the thin layer of skin diving your ass and cunt making the pleasure even greater. It doesn't take much before you're willingly slamming your hips down, moving in your own pace and fucking yourself into the big cocks inside you like a greedy whore, too eager to wait.
"Lovely girl, ain't she?" You can recognize Grave's voice, choosing to ignore it for now as you simply focus on feeling good. It doesn't take long until the men are taking turns with you, wet cunt leaking everywhere, yet none of them seem to care. You wince as you feel a second cock on the entrance of your pussy, nervous, yet eager to please. You don't even have to lift your head to know whose cock it is— fucking Phillip Graves. The man who got you into this situation on the first place... which you're now glad happened.
He's surprisingly gentle as he squeezes his cock into your airtight hole, the pain of the stretch only being overpowered by the feeling of a cock slamming back into your throat, nose hitting dark, curly pubes every single time the masked man makes you deepthroat him. Your whiny moans are mixed in with the lewd, wet sounds of your holes being used and abused. You lost count of how many times you were filled, mind too hazy from all the overstimulation, yet you can register the door closing behind them, leaving you alone with Graves.
''Attagirl.'' He praises, his hand running down the length of your sweaty hair as his soft cock settles into your cum-stained lips, half-lidded eyes looking up at him with curiosity. Your mouth is suddenly filled with a warm liquid and you swallow without thinking about it, eyes closing once he's done pissing into your slutty mouth. He slowly pulls out, putting his cock back in his pants and admiring the mess his men did of your body, covered in cum and small bruises from their strong hold when they were fucking you.
''I got another job for ya. Ever heard of the 141?''
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