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lunarw0rks · 8 months

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I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??

♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader

─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹

there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.

you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.

and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.

you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.

everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.

he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.

no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.

what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.

the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.

you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.

you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.

though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.

"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.

as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.

a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.

it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.

he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"

"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.

with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.

it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."

somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.

the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.

"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.

once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.

soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.

despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.

as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.

a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.

"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.

he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.

your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.

"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.

then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves smut #phillip graves cod #graves x you #graves smut #graves x reader #graves headcanons #commander graves #shadow company #task force 141 x reader #141 headcanons #cod headcanons #philip graves

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konigsblog · 1 month

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Stepdad Graves who just can’t help himself around his step daughter.

continuing from this part...

cw: stepcest, cheating, forced impregnation, tampering with contraceptives, afab!gn!reader, dub-con, lactation, pervy-graves, age gap/difference (reader's age is unspecified, but i'd say aged mid-20s + graves is aged 40-50s)

dead dove: do not eat. mdni 18+ 🔞

after your stepfather had forcefully impregnated you, your boyfriend had broken up with you. of course, you eventually had to drop out of college to take care of yourself during pregnancy, as well as take care of your future baby. your stomach grew everyday, and along with that, your nipples began to weep milk, white droplets of your sweet milk running down your breasts, or seeping through the material of your shirt.

graves couldn't help himself at the sight of you. he just wanted to take care of his pregnant stepdaughter, to rub at your swollen, puffy and wet nipples whilst you wriggled and complained, still annoyed at him for doing what he'd done, trying to free yourself from his tightening grip.

there had been countless times where you'd be awoken to the pleasing and arousing sensation of your stepfather's tongue against your little clit, rubbing it in soothing circles whilst you arched your back, so exhausted yet so desperate for that release that tightened at your core.

of course, at some point, you had to break the news to your mother once home from a long work trip. you told her that you'd gotten pregnant by someone you didn't know, at a college party, drunk and intoxicated. she was pissed at you for making such an irresponsible decision, that you had no support from the father, but when you broke down at her reaction, she knew she couldn't be too harsh on you.

she was blind to your stepfather's disgusting and perverted behaviour. she didn't notice how his gaze would linger on your growing stomach and breasts for a little too long, or how she'd wake up with graves not in bed. she paid no attention to it all, and didn't even notice how your baby had some of your stepfather's features. those familiar and recognisable blue eyes.

after your pregnancy, graves was desperate to get you pregnant again, and again. although, you made sure not to get too drunk around him, instead making sure you'd use contraceptives, usually condoms. you were fucking up his plans! he had no other decision, but to instead tamper with the condoms, poking them with a small pin, in the hopes of getting you pregnant.

you should've expected it, really... :(

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crimsonbubble · 9 months

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Just imagine how whiny Graves is when he's finally inside of you, all his cocky and smug behavior gone as he ruts into you whining about how perfect you were made for taking his cock. I feel like he likes prone bone position just so he can rest all of his weight on top of you with his arms wrapped around your waist. You might be a mess under him but God he worse just being on top of you. Always to impatient to wait until you're both naked and just shoving clothes out of the way.

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, implied semi clothed sex, creampie, breeding kink, vague dry humping *not proofread, just pure horny

[honestly, losing it just a lil bit 🤏]

MINORS DNI!!

thank you for bringing back the graves obsession Sammy <33

anyways-

just being so ecstatically horny, that you're just pushing clothes aside and not even bothering to fully take them off

it's just a flurry of hands trying to push things out of the way

graves literally can not remove his lips from yours

hence why all of your clothes are still on, just haphazardly pushed aside

feeling him whimper against your lips once he finally buries himself inside you

he doesn't stop after he comes, he keeps his pace although stuttering and slowing a bit

he doesn't want the moment to end

so he keeps pulling moans and orgasms from you

doesn't even care that it's making a mess soft your bodies and the bed

he'll worry about it later

loves having you ride him, so he can watch how well you take him

totally not because he imagines you wearing a cowboy hat while riding him or anything definitely not-

thrusts up into you from below to meet your bounces halfway

loves listening to you cry out each time he bucks his hips up into your sweet spot

#smmy-winchester #bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #cod mw22 #cod graves #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod smut #phillip graves #philip graves #philip graves x reader smut #phillip graves x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #graves x reader smut #graves x you

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v1x3n · 18 days

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bunnys-kisses · 1 month

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the father who stepped up

cw: age gap, step-cest, dub-con, forced impregnation, breeding, daddy kink, degradation, graves sucks as a step-father, dead dove-don't eat

well, weren't you just a beauty? graves could understand why he simply couldn't control himself around you. it was an obsession. that was why he hated when you left for the new school year. summer was coming to an end, which meant he didn't see you for many weeks while you were out of town for school. it honestly broke his heart.

he didn't hate your mother, after all he did marry her. but he wanted a newer model. and that was where you came in. at home for the summer. it started out slow, when your mother was out of the house he'd put kisses all over you. then he groped your breasts and ass. until finally you crumbled into him.

then the true fun began. almost every night in your childhood bedroom he rammed his hard cock into you. he watched your breasts bounce with the force of his fucking. he often had to put a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud.

you weren't even in your mid-twenties and he was having thoughts about leaving your mother and marrying you. he hoped by that point you had a sweet little belly. a sign that he was the only man who ever got to seed you. the thoughts raced in his mind often, even when he wasn't fucking you into the double mattress.

he hated that you had to leave soon, but if anything it made him want to get you pregnant faster. his voice was a low purr in your ear as he said, "you like that, sugar? you like when daddy fucks you nice and good?" then gave you a hard slap on the ass. the house was empty expect for the two of you.

he currently had you on your elbows and knees with your face buried in the pillow and your ass in the air. your tight heat was constricting his cock while made him feel hot all over. he got rougher when he was drinking, the drive to impregnate his step-daughter only became more intense after a few drinks in him.

and after all, you two were home alone so he could finish in you as many times as he wanted or needed. you were on cloud nine with the feeling of his cock stretching your more intimate area in a position that left you vulnerable to pregnancy.

"yeah, daddy wants a full house. and you got a lot of time left to give me all the kids i want. leave school and be my bride, sweetheart." he purred.

you whimpered, "I can't, it's my last year." you wiggled a little but it only enticed him more. you moaned into the covers and arched your back further as he got more aggressive with his thrusts.

he yanked your hair and pulled your head up, he leaned forward to your ear and said, "see, that's the problem. you don't get a say. you're mine, and nothing is going to stop me from breeding that sweet little cunt of yours." he said matter of factly.

you gripped onto the covers and felt butterflies in your stomach. the bed creaked with each of his movements and his heavy breathing was hot in your ear.

he chuckled and gripped your strands closer to the scalp, "you're mine, and once biology works its magic and you end up saddled with a few of my kids you'll see it my way. this is better for you than any degree." he then pushed your head back into the pillow and kept you there by your neck as he continued to ram his cock into you.

it felt like heaven, like the sweetest euphoria he could ever have. he never had it when he fucked your mother. only your sweet pussy left him yearning for more. he knew he'd still want it, even after a little wear and tear from having his big babies.

he continued to thrust in and out of you. he held you down and had his way with you. he was glad you were slowly seeing the picture. he let go of your neck, assured you were going to stay down and his hand trailed along your stomach.

he got aroused further by the idea of you being the most perfect wife for him. he'd cut up your credit card, burn all your shoes and keep that belly nice and full. you only had to rely on him. he was a traditional man and he'd take care of what was his. most times he would consider himself a gentleman, but it was hard to argue for it when he has your back arched and your pussy full. his cock bullied your cervix.

you whimpered and moaned, you clawed at the bed as it hit against the wall. such a sweet symphony. graves' cock twitched inside of you at the idea of you wearing his shirts to cover your swollen middle.

in all fairness you could be nude in your shared home, no one would see you. there wouldn't be a neighbor for miles. whatever his little wife felt comfortable in.

with a few more hard thrusts he finished inside of you, then laid his chest against your back, smothering you. he reached for your pussy and played with your clit as your hole contracted around his still hard cock.

you flailed and tried to move away but he kept you pinned down as he placed with your nub. eventually orgasm crashed down on you like rain and your felt a moan be pulled from your mouth before you felt the energy leave you.

you laid on the bed, soft and limp. but graves wasn't done. your mother would be home in an hour, he thought he could get at least two more orgasms in before he felt content with his breeding.

he slapped your ass once more and growled in your ear, "look alive, sugar, i ain't done with you."

you came back that winter break with a slight slope in your belly. all graves could do was smile by the rim of his scotch glass. he could feel the twitch in his pants, especially when your hand went to the bump. he knew, no words needed to be spoken.

he had planted his seed in his step-daughter, and soon he'll suggest that you take some time off school to raise that little baby. after all his brats weren't going to be raised without a mother.

xoxo, bunny

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shadowlali · 8 months

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the house sitter

COD - Phillip Graves x fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~ 3.3k summary: Phillip gets help from the neighbors’ daughter. masterlist

warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N, not too many details on reader's appearance, reader can blush but in only one scene, implied age gap, use of toys by and on f!reader, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, some proofreading a/n: phillip rescues a stray in this and i actually think he would make a really great cat dad! :)

When Phillip bought the new home, he isn’t surprised to find a stray cat at the front door. He's surprised that he's come to care for the small, black cat. He isn’t a superstitious person, but the cat matching the colors of his beloved company only encourages him to believe that buying this home is a good sign. When he's informed of a pressing situation back at base, he's worried about leaving his new friend alone.

He speaks to his neighbors, your parents, and they're quick to offer you as a house sitter. Except, they don’t inform you he’s stopping by to leave the keys and instructions. You hear the doorbell ring and assume they've forgotten their house keys before their trip into the city. So, you open the door in tiny, cotton shorts and a bralette, fully expecting one of your parents to be standing in front of you.

“Oh! Um, hi?” you ask, a little confused to see a stranger at your door.

“Well hello there,” he pauses before continuing, “My name’s Phillip, I moved down the street. Your parents said you could house sit for me while I’m gone for a bit. My cat, Phantom, needs someone to feed and watch him.”

The surprised look on your face is the culmination of a few things.

One, the stranger in front of you is the new neighbor your parents have talked about and who you thought was much older. However, the man in front of you can’t be older than mid-40’s and very handsome. Typical all-American good looks with blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

Two, you slowly become aware of the clothing, or lack of, that you are wearing. And while his eyes stay on your face the entire time, you don’t miss the quick sweep of his eyes and the smirk on his face before his feature cool again. You chalk it up to the heat of the sun that causes your body to warm up, and not because you like the way he looks at you.

Three, you have no idea what he was talking about.

“Nice to meet you Phillip uh – I’m sorry, you said you needed a house sitter for your cat, Phantom? And you spoke to my parents?”

“Ah! I guess they didn’t tell you yet. I just spoke to them on the phone and they said if it's alright with you, you could stay at my house. I’d offer to bring Phantom here, but I think it's best if he stays home.”

“Yeah, okay. I could do that. How long will you be gone?”

“Two weeks, give or take. I fly out tonight and I’ll let you know once I’m flying back. I don’t mind if you have your friends or a boyfriend over as long as Phantom stays calm.”

Now Phillip doesn’t need to mention the boyfriend part, but he can’t deny how curious he is to see if you have one. He wasn’t expecting a sweet nymph, like you, to open the door, especially in those tiny shorts and even tinier shirt. Could it even be called a shirt?

“Uh no – don’t worry. My friends aren’t back yet for their summer break. And… no boyfriend. It’ll just be me and Phantom at your house.”

Phillip smiles wide, “Well, darlin’, I’m sure you and Phantom will have a good time.”

You try not to let it show how much you enjoy the pet-name he gives you or the slip of his southern accent, your nipples becoming sensitive against the bralette and a deep pulse being sent directly to your pus–

“How about I get your number before I leave and take you over to the house so you can get a good lay of the land?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Um, let me change and put on some shoes. I’ll be right back.”

You hear a light laugh as he steps inside to wait for you. The short drive to his house is mostly uneventful. He asks you a few questions about what you're studying and if you had taken care of a cat before. You actually love cats, and are used to your roommate’s cat back at college.

You also think it's incredibly kind that Phillip took in stray, not expecting someone so imposing to worry about defenseless animals. Phantom has a shiny black coat and is so cuddly the moment you walk in the door. He wraps around your legs, purring deeply. You bend down to pet his soft head, Phantom taking that moment to jump in your arms.

Phillip laughs,“ Looks like he really likes you.”

“I think I just fell in love. I’ll take good care of Phantom. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

He shows you around the house, smooth wood and dark leather a theme throughout. Phillip’s home is far from cluttered, but there are touches of him everywhere. He has photos of what you assume are the soldiers at his company, books placed in random spots as if he needs something to read while in a certain part of the home, but so incredibly tidy and clean.

“Phantom’s taken a liking to sleeping in this bed, I just keep my door open at night in case he wants to come in. He’ll get antsy if I’m downstairs too late, so I try to be upstairs at a good time for him to do his security rounds and then sleep,” Phillip says with a laugh as he brings you upstairs, motioning to the fluffy bed next to his door.

“The guest bedrooms are down the hall. They’re not set up yet and I have too many boxes in there to move right now. You are more than welcome to sleep in my room. I’d actually prefer if you did, to not throw Phantom off his routine. I changed the sheets before I went over.”

Phillip does have too many boxes inside all of the guest bedrooms, so it's not exactly a lie. He's short on time, and can’t stay for too long. And sure, they're all empty boxes that he can easily move into one room. But the idea of you lying down in his bed arouses him like no other.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean I could move some stuff around, I don’t mind,” you say, a blush rising on your cheeks at the idea of sleeping in his bed.

“I’m sure, darlin’. I think you’ll like sleeping in my bed," he says, sending a quick wink your way.

Phillip takes you back home after the tour and gives you a set of keys and written instructions. You pack your essentials, transferring some clothes from your unpacked suitcases into a duffel bag while you wait for your parents to get home.

While arranging your things, you manage to drop the small, black box that holds… well, what helps you destress and take the edge off on these long nights. It's thick, dark pink, and vibrates with enough intensity for you to see stars.

You debate for a second if you want to take it with you. Two weeks without your toy seems too long. You were actually going to use it while home alone but were interrupted and left a little hot after meeting Phillip. You quickly stuff it into your bag once you hear the door open and your parents’ voices float through the house.

Phillip’s house is cozy and interesting. He has a large book collection in his home library and a collection of vinyls. Phantom is great company, either lounging on the various cat posts set up through the house while you read and listen to music, or lying in your lap when he wants attention.

Phillip’s kitchen is fully stocked and has a few plants along the window sill. His garage has only one vintage sports car and a motorcycle, the other lifted truck being taken by him. The nights spent in Phillip’s bed make your heart race. The sheets smell like fresh laundry and the unmistakable scent of sandalwood cologne. You associate that smell to Phillip: clean and woodsy.

You try so hard to be good the first night and respect his bed, but your fantasies run wild. Dreams of Commander Graves spreading your lush thighs and stroking you with his tongue or fingers until your vision goes black. Dreams of his hands gripping your waist as he pounds into you, your hands clawing the sheets from the pleasure.

On the second night, you grab a towel and place it on the bed, knowing you'll cover the silk sheets with your wetness. You're a little nervous and feel a little guilty. What would he think if he saw you right now? Would he enjoy it? Or kick you out and call your parents? Ultimately, the positive fantasies win as the toy is thick and able to hit all the right places. And that’s how you spend your nights, either in Phillip’s ginormous tub using the toy or in his bed.

It's nearing three weeks at this point. Phillip had let you know it might be a little longer until he came back and you know it would be difficult for him to contact you while out doing his job. You should’ve been prepared for him to come back and maybe not let you know in time. Which is exactly what happens.

Phillip has exerted serious amounts of energy these past few weeks. He didn't expect this mission to take so long, but luckily he's back on his jet flying home. Before he knows it, he's passed out from exhaustion and doesn’t call or text you that he's coming back. Once the jet touches down, it's nearing midnight.

Phillip decides against contacting you, believing you’ll be asleep by this time. A short while later, he arrives home and walks in. Phillip walk into the downstairs bathroom, hearing the pitter patter of Phantom’s paws coming to greet him. Phillip’s heart soars, Phantom’s coat only shinier and smoother since he last saw him. Phillip takes a shower, allowing the hot water to wash away his exhaustion.

Phillip would be lying if he said he isn’t at all curious to know what you look like sleeping in his bed. He tries to stay downstairs, knowing he could go into his office and read or watch TV in the living room without disturbing you.

But, what if there is something wrong? What if you had kicked the covers off and were cold in your sleep? What if you left the window open and the hot air was causing it to be incredibly hot in the room? Deciding that he's only thinking of your well being, he ascends the stairs two at a time.

Once he nears his room, he hears low whines and a quiet vibration sound coming from within. Thinking you're in pain, he pushes open the door, seeing your pretty legs spread wide, your head thrown back in pleasure, and the unmistakable view of you fucking yourself with a thick, pink dildo.

“Just like that Commander Graves, fuck me just like that! Oh God,” you plead.

You didn’t hear Phillip walk into his home or the shower turn on in the downstairs bathroom. Granted, Phillip is a skilled soldier who learned to walk quietly given the nature of his job.

You also don’t hear the woosh of the door push open, only hearing the low groan escape from his throat. You jump up in fear, your face beet red once you realize who stands at the door. You're incredibly embarrassed, to say the least.

“Oh – fuck! Holy – I’m so sorry Phillip! I didn’t hear you get home! I didn’t hear my phone either! I'm so, so sorry!” you exclaim, voice on the verge of tears.

Phillip stays still for only a moment, his chest bare and a pair of black silk pajama pants low on his hips.

His hand drag across his face, a smile forming on his lips. ”Who were you imagining?”

“I – what?”

“Who. Were. You. Imagining?” Philip enunciates each word, walking closer to the bed.

Your breathing is fast, your mind trying to catch up to what is happening. ”I – Phillip, I’m sor–”

“No, I don’t want to hear that you're sorry. I want you to answer my question,” he orders.

“I was imagining… you, that it was you, fucking me,” you whisper.

“Is that what you want, babydoll? You want Commander Graves to fuck you? You want my tongue on your clit and my fingers inside that pretty cunt? You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow mornin’?”

You whimper at his words, your pussy hot and slick. He nears the bed, dragging his fingers across the sheets, close to your legs but not quite touching you.

“I need you to ask me, babydoll. I won’t do it unless you ask me.”

“Yes Commander. Please, I want you.”

He grabs both of your ankles and drags your ass to the edge of the bed, your head falling backwards against the mattress. Your thighs are spread obscenely at his waist, your thin nightgown pushed off your shoulders and ruched at your stomach leaving your breasts and pussy bare to his eyes.

He looms over you, dragging his mouth and tongue over your nipples before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Phillip’s soft lips caress yours with each kiss, tasting like mint. His tongue plunges in and out of your mouth while his fingers skate from your ribcage to your soft thighs. He gives you one more wet kiss before having you remove the nightgown, his eyes trailing down to your open thighs.

“This cunt as sweet as it looks? So slick and creamy for me?”

You can’t respond, can only watch him fall to his knees to tongue your entrance. Your heart beats in your throat a mile a minute. Your mouth opens in a scream, back arching as his tongue lashes from your entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Phillip’s moan vibrates against your core, moving his fingers to tease your slick entrance. He pushes a finger in slowly, allowing you to adjust before pushing in a second finger.

“Fuck darlin’,” his mouth moving to leave small bites along your inner thighs, ”your cunt swallowed my fingers so quickly. Look at how red and swollen you are, so desperate for me.”

His fingers speed up, curving inside with each thrust.

“Commander, ah! Fuck, just like that!” your cry, voice high pitched and needy.

“How often did you fuck yourself in my bed? Did you wish I was here with you? Watching you play with this pretty cunt until I fucked you silly?”

“It was the da –” he takes that moment to give a hard lick to your button, interrupting you, ”day after I got here. Yes, I ima – imagined you fuck – fucking me in your bed.” Each word becomes more difficult to say as pleasure claws at your skin.

His hand reaches for the toy thrown haphazardly to your side, turning it on and placing it at your entrance. Phillip continues lapping, inserting the toy inch by inch. Your denied orgasm from earlier only causes this one to hit you like a truck.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the feel of the toy deep inside of you, vibrating non-stop and the feel of Phillip’s tongue slashing at your clit. You move your hips, trying to escape the torrent of pleasure.

Phillip places a firm hand on your lower belly, preventing you from moving, ”Take it.”

You squirt on his mouth and the toy, feeling like you're floating. He finally removes and turns off the toy, wiping his mouth along your inner thighs.

“How was that babydoll?”

You're drunk off pleasure, only able to respond with a small groan. He laughs and mounts the bed, dragging you up to the pillows. Your body is incredibly lax, allowing him to maneuver you he wants.

He places a pillow under your hips, getting you level with his waist. Phillip finally kicks off his pajama pants, freeing his heavy cock. Your energy slowly returning, you place tentative fingers along his length, loving how firm he is. He wraps your hand fully around his length and gives a few pumps, leaning down to kiss your lips and chin.

“Your hands are so soft, darlin’. But I can’t have you touch me too long or else I'll finish too soon. I want to sink in your swollen cunt first, will you let me?”

Your body shudders at his words, ”Yes Commander.”

Phillip leans back, his smile wide, showing his fanged teeth at the corners of his mouth. He spreads open your thighs, pushing your knee to your chest. You're fully and completely exposed to him. The bright moonlight highlights your perfectly swollen and slick cunt. Phillip teases your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“Babydoll,” the nickname draws out in a groan, ”you feel so fucking gorgeous.”

He sinks all the way in, his hips fusing to your folded thigh. Phillip drags out in an unhurried pace, wanting to burn this moment into his mind and body forever. He's a clever and accomplished man who commands respect in every room, but his brain has completely short circuited in this moment.

All he can think about is your gummy walls squeezing him into oblivion, your sweet aroma, and the moans slipping from your throat. Phillip reaches with one hand to pluck your nipples, hard tipped and begging for attention. Your hips begin to twist and match his rhythm, his hips pumping faster and the wet noises becoming louder. You place a hand over his, making sure he doesn’t stop kneading your breasts.

“My poor babydoll… All alone in this big bed. Having to touch herself every night until I got home. So ready and needy for me.”

His words are like honey over your skin.

Your voice is pleading when you whine, ”I needed you so bad, Commander.”

“I’m here now, babydoll.”

You're being fucked into the mattress, each thrust deep and unrelenting. His eyes move from your face to your jiggling tits and to your slick lower bodies. Phillip moves his thumb to swipe repeatedly at your clit, causing electric sparks to shoot behind your eyes.

His thrusts become sloppy and clumsy, lips placing kisses along your jaw and mouth. You twist and squeeze around him, loving how perfect he feels inside of you, much better than you could’ve imagined. Phillip moves to bury his head in your neck, your leg bent as far as possible as he drags out completely before sliding back in with hard strokes.

Lightning spreads fast throughout your body, your nails dragging down Phillip’s back. You cover his cock in your wetness, Phillip’s body becoming weak from the pleasure. He follows shortly after, his moans loud in your ear. Phillip spills inside of you, fucking you until every last drop of him is inside of you. He drops halfway on you, your bodies sticky with sweat.

“You okay?” Phillip asks after a few moments.

“Perfect.”

The rest of the night is spent with your legs around his waist or your ass up while he pounds from behind. You stay a few extra nights at his home, letting your parents know you're still helping while Phillip recovers from his mission. Phantom loves every minute of the extra attention.

#phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 #phillip graves #cod mw2 smut #graves x reader #graves x you #shadowlali

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blingblong55 · 2 months

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The shadow's obsession- Philip Graves NSFW

Based on a request:

Erm...sweats nervously Obsessive stalker! Graves x reader... 🧍🏻‍♀️ "As soon as he saw you he knew that he needed to know everything about you. Every dirty little secret, every private thought and every small detail about you. But of course, talking to you wouldn't do the trick entirely, he needed something more. He's read every file that's ever been written about you. He has your birth certificate, your license, your every text and call you've ever made, every post made on social media, everything. Hes hacked every device so he can watch what you search during the day and what you're doing. He knows things about you that even you don't know about." Drops this and runs away🏃🏻‍♀️ (I moved on from Makarov now it's time for graves 💯💯 I love ur writing sm!! Er i usually request anon cause I request too much..😞😞 YK the popsicle Makarov fic? Requested that anon to.. and also the one where Makarov apologized with money...but now I moved on to graves no more Makarov new year new character 🙏🙏)

---- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, obsessive!Graves, neighbour!Graves, stalker!Graves ----

A/N: Not much smut to be honest, so please don't expect to be fucked in this one....so...yeah.....

Philip sits in the dimly lit flat, one he owned only to be close to you. In his home, there is a room that is filled with screens and various feeds from the hacked devices you owned. How could he not do this? You are such a beautiful thing, of course, he had to keep his eyes on him. You're an obsession. An obsession that consumed him, every moment of his existence revolves around you. From the first time he laid eyes on you, he knew you were the one. But, this isn't love in the traditional sense; it's a dark and twisted obsession that gnaws at his soul.

He had developed deep into your life, souring every corner of the internet for information about you. Birth certificates, licenses, social media posts– nothing escaped his grasp. He knows you better than anyone, even more than you know yourself, or so he believes.

Every text, every call, every search query you ever made was meticulously logged and analyzed by him. He watched you from the lens of your own devices, a silent observer in your little world. He knows your routines, fears, and desires and he relishes in the power this gives him over you.

To you, he was just your overly friendly neighbour. He was the man you called when help was needed inside your flat.

His obsession only grew stronger with each passing day, fueled by the way you spoke, and the way your eyes glimmer as you looked at him. It wasn't that you were just being kind, right?

But he wanted you to know him. To know that he is more than just a neighbour, he can be more. He is more.

He was happy this way though, he knew it all. He knows you're single, he knows your body like no other. Hell, he knows your scent, the way your legs shake when you reach your climax and how you try and suppress the moans. He dreams of the day he would finally have you all to himself when you'd see how much he loves you.

But until the day you know how he feels for you, he'll just remain in his bubble. He'll lay in bed, take in the scent of your panties, the same ones he stole, and look at the videos he has of your showering, touching yourself and moaning. For you're his everything, his reason for living in a world consumed by darkness.

As days turned to weeks and the weeks into months, his obsession with you only intensified. He found himself unable to tear his gaze from you, his every waking thought consumed by your presence. He began to lose himself in fantasies of what it would be like to finally sleep by your side, to hold you in his arms and whisper his darkest desires into your ear.

But even as he dreamed of a future where he had you, he knew his fantasies were just delusions of his own making. He is addicted to the thrill of watching you, to the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins every time you appeared on one of his screens. You're a drug.

The same drug that has his fist around his throbbing cock. Moans escape the same ones that call for you. Pre-cum leaks down his shaft. Your panties by his nose. What an addicting scent you have. In his screen, he has you, fingering and playing with that sweet pussy. Your moans and whimpers are all for him to enjoy. As you play with one of your nipples, he finds himself wishing to be the one to worship those precious tits of yours.

He only allows himself to cum when you do. That's the one rule and it's all so he can be prepared for when he has you right in front of him.

Times go on, men you've met disappear, and one by one they mysteriously leave town.

5 in the morning and there you went, regular morning walk, same streets, same speed and always listening to the same playlist. Those thighs of yours, only made his hands want to explore every inch of them. Leave his marks on them for all to see.

His train of thought gets interrupted when he sees a man approach you. Graves, being the man he is, always kept his distance from you as you jogged, never trying to engage with you but rather just watching to understand you. This time, he can't just let this man be close to you. Who is he? He certainly isn't someone you know, Graves would've known if you were talking to this man.

Your soft voice fills his ears as you smile and talk with this stranger. Your smile is as beautiful as day but why must you insist on smiling to this man? Philip is right there, why can't he have all your smiles? Love him. Love him. Love him. LOVE him. Love HIM. LOVE HIM. LOVE HIM Y/N!

"Love me," he whispers as he approaches you. "Oh, hi," you softly say as you recognise your neighbour. "Hey, who is this?" A little too forward, no? He thinks. "This is," you turn to the man. "Robert," he answers with a kind smile. "Ah, I see, well, I'm Philip," he says as he stands closer to you.

An awkward conversation later and Philip finally has you where he wanted. Sitting on a bench as you two talk, something he rarely got to do. "And my mum was a teacher, that's where the nickname came from," you mention casually. Of course, he knew this, he knows it all, remember? "And for a pretty lady like you, it suits you," he compliments and with barely any notice from you, he scoots closer.

If only you knew he has all he needed to know in files. A man like him is organised. He just wants to know if you'd ever lie. Do you?

An hour passed, shared laughter, more than small talk and he knew it well. You were a person who told the truth. Oh, what a darling of a girl you are.

With smooth talk, he tells you to join him for dinner. Not an ask, he knows you like men who know what they want. It's the same thing he heard you tell your friends over the phone.

Once he makes it back to his place, after dropping you at your flat, he sits in his room, watches and listens as you tell your friends about him. A smile creeps into his lips. "That's right, darlin' tell 'em, let 'em know about the man who will own that every needy heart," he says to himself.

With time, the more you spend with him, the more he finds himself pleased with the idea of how you feel inside. He wishes to know what exactly excites you about him. Sure he knows you blush when he drops you off at your place and kisses your cheek, but does his accent excite you? Does the idea of him being such a gentleman bring butterflies to you? Do you like how he knows your favourite treats?

Why is he so perfect? You ask yourself. How come he knows that you love to watch rom-coms? How does he know you cry over romance scenes? Why does he kiss you in the rain? Why does he know you smile so much because you always wanted that? Why does dancing in the rain make you excited? Are you falling in love?

Oh....you are in love, aren't you? Is this why you asked him to have a casual date? It's why he's now holding you in his arms as you two watch 'How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days' right?

Do you love him?

Do you love me? He thinks when you look up at him. Your heart racing as he smiles. His hands cup your so sweet face, "Yes, darlin'?" How does he know you this well? You lean in and kiss him. What a sweet thing.

From here on, not only does he obsess over you, but he worships you. You're the newfound religion. You're the sun and he the planets.

There is something so dark and twisted, something so macabre that it almost makes his love holy.

You are what the shadows love.

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simonrillleyyysss · 2 months

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i’m sorry if this is an annoying ask bc i’ve seem a lot of shy!readers on here…but can we get… ehm ehm.. shy femreader with graves?! AH i’m sorry lolz i need him actually

ofc!! don’t think it’s annoying baby💞💞

fem reader

he loves how ‘submissive’ you are—in a sense, he likes how shy you are!! and embraces it!! philip helps you come to terms with your meekness, you’re out in public?? don’t worry, don’t gotta talk or nothin’, just be pretty! be you, don’t change cause he wants ya’ to talk.

graves is a confident man, obviously, cocky and not afraid of anything—you? you’re timid, you’re hanging to his side as he walks around the mall, letting you whisper into his shoulder softly; his hand gently kneading at your hip.

‘ya’wanna get anything, sugar?’

‘no..’

‘ah, m’still gon’ get you something, yeah?’

although he likes your shyness, he doesn’t hesitate to get you out of your comfort zone—he makes you talk in stores when you’re confident enough, he lets you speak for yourself at small gatherings and conversations, he knows you’re a big girl.

total himbo for you, your shy but he’s head over heels—dumb and at your order and command; lapdog!!

doesn’t let anyone say anything even slightly antagonistic , their head will be on a spike

you hate when he kisses your neck in public with his hands groping your ass, just after coming out of the bar, pressed against the bustling bars alley wall—nipping at your neck! he knows ur embarrassed:(( it’s okay!! let him help you embrace your voice, baby, don’t be shy to be loud when he’s scissoring his long fingers in your tight cunt!!

he has a huge thing for listening to ur sounds, he knows your shy, everyone does. so let him bring your real voice out, let him make you scream bloody murder while he slams you along his thick cock, don’t be afraid t’be loud, honey!

huge thing for exhibitionism, let him fuck you in bathroom stalls while you’re both at a party, let him make you speak up and beg for more!! speak up, what did you say?

‘ya’ won’t get what you want till yask’ nicely, pretty girl.’

‘ppphhhillll—cummin-cumming!’

love him kkdkdkdfkdssk

#i love philip graves #phillip graves cod #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves smut #phillip graves #philip graves smut #philip graves #philip graves x reader #graves x you #cod graves #graves x reader #i need graves #graves smut #graves x female reader #🎀>philip graves #🎀>graves x shy!rdr #⠀ 🎀 ⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ ୨୧ ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹ 🎀#💞} requests open!#💞} anon answer!

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agoofyannoyancetolaw · 2 months

Text

superiors

A/n: old word Drabble because this world needs more graves posts

minors DNI

graves had been pulled in for a stern talking to by his companies investors- he hadn’t expected a lecture on dating a soldier and here he was getting told how utterly horrid it was and how he was abusing his power by forcing a soldier to submit to him… oh how they were wrong.

yet all he could do is nod his head and look shameful, but his brain was just hysterical. All these rich men, lecturing him while sitting at a table you had fucked him senseless on days earlier; his mind just kept filling with all the times you had sweetly acted innocent to the men around you- but in a room alone? God you were something else.

you were the one in charge. You were the one with his leash in your hand tugging at his collar so his pretty little whimpers are just quiet enough that the soldiers in the shower next to you two don’t hear. You were the one who had made him cry while bending him over every surface of your apartment. Your the one who-

“graves, are you even listening???” One of the men growled as he slammed the table in anger, pulling graves out of his thoughts which made him also feeling the uncomfortable bulge in his pants… he’d have to call you about that later

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yawnderu · 2 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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reveluving · 5 months

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

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

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

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

Come & check out my COD m.list!

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

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

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

Maybe even Kai as Thing?

I see the vision.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like bro.

He’s undoubtedly blinded by your beauty, indeed!

And your touches.

Ah, your touches.

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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lunarw0rks · 8 months

Note

the scenario: you’ve been really pent up lately, stress between work + everyday life and graves decides that he’s gonna help you de-stress (by riding him 🤭)

in the act, you’re practically fucking yourself stupid, like into oblivion…deep in. and you don’t even realize how overstimulated graves is getting until he literally pulls you off him (he came about three times prior)

🗝 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔣 🗝 𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔭 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰

a/n: anon -- send me that audio you were talking about, too!! ;) not proofread/edited. warning(s): nsfw, established relationship, overstim. (g & r), stress relief but make it steamy, husband!graves, fem!reader ───have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

As if the day couldn't have been worse, you dropped your keys when you made it to the door. Every muscle ached as you bent down to pick them up — now upright with a tight scowl on your face.

The lock struggled until you jerked the key around a few times, finally hearing the click when it budged. With a flustered grown, you stepped inside and shut the door behind you, greeted with the comfort of your home. Dim and quiet, but still preferable over the migraine-inducing fluorescents of your workplace.

Your purse slid off your shoulder, falling somewhere on the hard ground. Frankly, you didn't have a care in the world about picking it up. That was a task for the morning — the first day of the weekend after a hellacious work week.

You made your rounds in the kitchen first, cracking open the first bottled beverage you could get your hands on. Flavored water, though if it would've been alcohol, you weren't in any mood to refuse. You finished the drink with heavy breaths, setting it down on the counter.

"Tough day, darlin’?" His well-acquainted voice hits your ears soothingly, shifting your attention from the counter below you to him. Wearing one of his old PT shirts and boxers, still visibly disheveled from lying in bed.

You bite back the urge to be snarky, reminding yourself that it’s indeed not the fault of the man comforting you that’s got you so worked up.

“Just work.” You mumble, then let out a defeated sigh. It’s your shitty boss, it’s the overwhelming workload, it’s everything, really.

With his lips pressed into a line, he nods as if he’s simply accepted your answer. You know by now that his wheels are turning, however.

“Mind if I help?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You didn't get a full breath of air until his back finally hit the mattress, nor did you bother to get undressed fully. Instead, straddled him in your work clothes; panties pulled aside, button-up disturbed and slightly open from his yanks.

Graves found it best to say nothing unless it was muttering a comfort or praise into your ear. But you still hadn't let go of those frustrations yet — even with his honeyed worship.

Even after you pulled your first orgasm, even after his warm spurts of cum filled you — you had no desire to stop.

The silver lining? Whatever got you so worked up had long passed. Now, all you could scrounge in your psyche was the sensation of your husband's cock crammed up inside you.

His tip, reddened and slick with his seed and your arousal, still upright and swollen despite how long you've been using your cunt as a means for abuse. Nothing but a toy, at least while you were in the midst of a sour mood.

But Graves had no qualms about that; watching your tits bounce, your face contort as you moaned, the sweat rolling down your forehead until it went between your cleavage. His rough hands are on your hips, aiding you in swallowing every inch of him. Each time you'd clench or constrict around him, he felt another jolting sensation — inching him towards yet another release.

You hadn't stopped once, only slowed when you needed to readjust or cope with the burning of your thigh muscles. The pleasure was too divine to halt entirely — evident in how you had successfully overstimulated yourself and him.

"That's it, doll. Look at you..." Though his smirk had turned more into a muddled expression of ecstasy, his praising and bluster prevailed. Your soaked, pillowy cunt pulsing around his length, rendering him officially pussydrunk.

The lude squelches increased in volume when you began rocking against him at a wicked pace, feeling your third orgasm approaching rapidly. Remnants of the previous were leaking out of you, either spilling down your inner thighs and onto the sheets or being fucked back into you when he would thrust upward to meet you.

Graves' head snapped back against the pillows, yet again ready for another quick release. Every time he thought you would be too fatigued to continue, you rutted and got more desperate for another rush of erotic euphoria. It was too much, even for him — but you were too goddamn attractive like this, using him as an appendage to fuck away the frustrations, mouth wide open, hair ruinous and damp with sweat.

With the little strength he had left, he found himself determined to make this orgasm triumphant over the others. Before, all he had done was lay back and be used, but currently he found himself sitting up to meet you chest to chest.

His speech was slurred, as desperate as your bellows of pleasure. "Good girl, gorgeous. Keep usin' my cock— gonna cum again, aren't you? Atta' girl." His thumb found your puffy clit, circling and applying pressure to surge your approaching finish. Focusing on much of anything when so deeply stimulated was hard enough — however, this, he could manage.

How your moans had gotten louder, how you began to tremble all over again, it was worth it. Your eyes rolled slightly, head in the crook of his neck when you came undone around his cock for a third time. Nails dug into the tanned flesh of his shoulders, muscles tightening as the coil in your abdomen expelled all at once.

Overwhelming pleasure coursed through you, heightened by the two climaxes before. This one is the most daunting, the most fiercely shown on your body.

He had reached his own finish while you were too lost in your own. You only noticed when you heard his desperate grunts, that hot searing deep inside you as his cum spurted deep within you. Your back seemed to be stuck in a partial arch, every muscle in your thighs burning and aching for rest. But your mind was a fog, a fog with only one thing on your mind; more pleasure.

Graves fell back against the mattress as the remainder of his intense orgasm retreated, completely out of breath and flushed.

With less effort than before, your hips resumed a meek grind, powering through the ache of over-exertion. Another whimper slipped you as your nerves fizzled with the mounds of stimulation resuming all over your body.

His eyes shot open again, hands digging into your sides and forcing them to halt, "no more, sweetheart, you're exhausted." He slurred, taking a few seconds to lift you off of his now softening length. His cock fell limp against his thigh, slick and with a milky ring where you had creamed in the heat of the moment.

"I-I'm sorry, baby. Got carried away, huh?" Your chest heaved repeatedly, eyes lidded and drowsy — and all from your own doing. He barely lifted a finger, so to speak, and you were fucked-out. To think seconds ago you were desperate for another release and rutting again was miraculous. You found yourself slumped on top of his sweaty chest, still in the midst of catching your breath.

"You could say that darlin'. Don't think there's anything left down there." Graves chuckled slightly, though the expression was subdued with exhaustion.

He snaked up an arm, brushing away your sweaty strands and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Christ, you're shaking."

The sheets shuffled as they rubbed against each other until the throw blanket was draped over your trembling frame, engulfing you both into a literal bed of warmth.

Your eyes drooped without effort, the flutter of his heartbeat muffled as your senses dulled. The last sound you heard before plunging into much-needed sleep was his soothing voice. "Get some rest, sweetheart. Just sleep for me now..."

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