Graves doesn't know why he even keeps you in the Shadow Company anymore. He really didn't want an omega with his man in the first place, but he was relieved to find out you could actually hold your own in combat. That is, until you turned out to be a massive pain in his ass. You don't listen to orders half of the time. Don't respect his authority. Hell, he isn't even sure if Alpha commands works on you, and nobody tries to scruff you anymore since you still managed to bite someone while going limp last time.
With how happy you're looking right now, he just knows you're about to cause problems. He was really hoping he could eat in peace, but you just had to come sit at his table with that malicious smirk of yours. Seriously, aren't omega supposed to be sweet and submissive?
Thirteen minutes of peace. That's all he got before you finally made your move. You stretched over the table under the guise of wiping something off of his face, which was already weird coming from you, knocking a cup over in the process. Everyone just knew you had to have done that on purpose.
He gave you a hard glare as he hissed about his ruined trousers. He is not going to let you get away whit such disrespect. Not again, not this time. But right now he needed a clean pair of pants.
"Fucking stay put." Is all he told you as he got up to go to his quarters.
He should have known that wasn't the only thing you had planed, but God does he wish it was. He knows he was hoping in vein because he found his door slightly ajar, a weirdly sweet scent coming from his room.
He find all of his trousers in a pile laying on a suspiciously dark spot on his bed covers. All of them, without exception, were covered in some amount of slick. You essentially forced his to choose between coffee stained or slick drenched pants.
He marched back towards the mess, completely pissed, only to found out that you had already left. Obviously you wouldn't have listen to him.
He tried your room next, only to be hit with the sweet scent of pre-heat and a view of you in one of his hoody, stuffed full with a massive toy and still giving him that malicious smile of yours.
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hiiii it's the person who sent you the graves x fem reader request yesterday (idk if you wanna keep track of anons but if so can i be 🦜?) anyway i'm having more Thots about him:
graves bringing his gf(reader) to the shadow company base and having her wander around some empty hallways so he can hunt her down and fuck her (in all his gear ofc. idk what it is about a tac vest but they're fucking sexy). in my head it's a whole cnc/roleplay thing where he's super into it and really leans into his scary military man persona :)
hi pookie!!! i don't have any tracked anons yet but i'd love to start!!! you can definitely be 🦜anon!! (also i hope you liked the first little drabble, this one got...far longer lmao)
you should have known that Phillip was up to something when you walked out of the bedroom that morning to find him still sitting at the kitchen counter with a mug of long cold coffee. the smirk alone hadn’t rung any alarm bells, he was still Phillip, and if he wasn’t smirking he was pouting scowling.
but when you’d asked why he hadn’t already left for work as was his usual habit all he’d said was that he wanted to take you along. show you around.
“Half of it’s yours, honey, don’t you wanna see what your man gets up to during the day?”
which that was a whole other problem, what did he mean by ‘half of it’s yours’ exactly? and with you thus distracted and shocked by his casual notification that oh yeah, he’d already signed over half of everything he owned to you “What the fuck else would I do, babycakes, does that ring on your finger not mean nothing to you?” you didn’t wind up pressing him on why today of all days he decided he wanted to show you around Shadow Company.
it was, of course, an extremely impressive operation. not that you really knew much about military private contractors, or what Phillip and the Shadows did while off on assignment, sometimes for months on end, but you figured you got the big picture idea around the time he was proudly showing off an armory that would make several countries green with envy.
and now he was laying out his usual kit for you, piece by piece, your eyes growing wider and wider as he just kept adding things until you interrupted his lecture on why he preferred a specific kind of knife in this specific holster to blurt out-
“There’s no possible way you can carry all that around all the time.”
he blinked, smirk curling up the corners of his mouth. “That so, sugar?” chuckling, he leaned in, teasing, “Should I be hurt you think so little of how much I can lift, honey?”
“No, I mean,” you huffed, waving a hand at the veritable ton of equipment now neatly arranged on like three different stainless steel tables. “I just mean that…Phillip there’s so much of this stuff, if you tried to carry all of it all the time you wouldn’t be able to move around, and even if you could, it wouldn’t be quick!”
Phillip laughed, denim blue eyes dancing. “You’d be surprised, pretty baby. Wanna see?”
raising a brow, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Only if you’re prepared for me to laugh at you when you get it all on and you look ridiculous and run a four hour mile. No, I’m calling your bluff, you’re just trying to impress me in some weird, macho military man way.”
in a second Phillip had your chin gripped in his hand, pulling your head up to seal your mouths together with a kiss that stole your breath, and several brain cells. when you were a panting, horny mess (god, he knew what it did to you when he groaned into your mouth how good you tasted he did that shit on purpose) he pulled back, smirking wide with his pupils blown, hair mussed from your hands still tangled in it.
“Babycakes,” he crooned, “now that’s a mean fucking lie. You know I ain’t gotta do a damn thing to impress you by now, honey. But if you wanted to see me all kitted up, shit. Happy to arrange it for you, sugar.”
you couldn’t even scrape together the wherewithal to protest or defend yourself, the inside of your head all cotton stuffed and hot from his kiss and wandering hands. he chuckled as he picked you up by the waist and set you down on one of the long metal tables with a warm but firm, “Keep it parked there, sugar, eyes on me, you know how I like it.”
and so you did, trying not to squirm as you watched him pull on sheaths and holsters heavy with weaponry, wrap something that looked suspiciously like a collar around his neck, then came the vest, the gloves, the beige balaclava, the helmet-
why was it so fucking hot watching him get dressed? wasn't it supposed to be the other way around?
but he looked so...dangerous.
in your head you knew that he was dangerous. you knew what he did for a living, and that he was good enough at it that he could afford to, if he wanted, literally buy and sell Dallas itself.
you'd just never really dedicated a whole lot of thought to this side of him before. at least not in front of Phillip, where he could see you quivering in your seat chewing on your lower lip, thighs clenched together as your pussy got hot looking at your fiancé wearing all of his tactical gear.
he wasn't just your fiancé right then, and that was what was really fogging up your head. he was a soldier, the soldier, the best of the best, faceless, unfeeling, unmovable object and unstoppable force.
in the back of your head, an idea prickled.
sometimes he went on missions to try and find people.
what if you were one of them?
what if you had to try and outrun the Apollonian god before you?
by the time the last strap was buckled tight, you were sure you'd soaked through your panties.
trying to ignore it, you hoped he couldn't hear the threadiness in your voice as you teased, "Well you got it all on, but that doesn't mean that you can move around all that fast."
his head tilted to the side, and the fabric covering his face shifted. he'd be smirking beneath it, you knew him well enough to know that instantly. and then he chuckled. low and...vicious.
that was when your stomach flipped, some gut deep instinctive reaction born out of evolutionary necessity. and you got the first inkling that maybe, just maybe you’d walked into a trap.
"Wanna bet?" his voice was muffled a little, but you didn't have any trouble hearing him. all you could hear was him as he took slow, measured steps forward until he was caging you in against the table, blotting out all light, all sound, everything else in the world but him. "How about we play a game, sugar?"
it took a few tries, but eventually you were able to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth to mutter weakly, "A game?"
"Mmhm." one rough gloved hand came up and took your chin, the scratch of the material making you shiver. "I'll give you a sixty second head start. And then I'll come after you. F'you get out of the building 'fore I catch you, I'll make dinner for a month."
oh god. oh god oh god oh god, he really had seen what you were thinking hadn't he?
the words came out of your mouth unbidden. "What if you...what if you catch me?"
his thumb rubbed over your mouth, pressing against the swell of your lips, mindless of disturbing your lip gloss that got smeared over the black fabric.
when he chuckled again, the sound went right to your clenching, empty pussy. "F'I catch you, I get to do anything I want. Wherever we are. Even if you try and pretend like you don't want it."
a moan slithered out between your parted lips before you could catch it.
Phillip dropped your chin, stepping back and neatly avoiding your hands reflexively coming up to try and keep him close. "Time starts now, honey."
the beige balaclava stretched, his denim eyes burning through your body above it. "Run."
you did.
in the moment it was like some wild animal had taken over your brain. no thought. no plan. no instinct. just something driving you deeper and deeper into the darkly shadowed labyrinthian halls, something that you couldn't even begin to pretend was just plain fear.
sure, there was some fear.
that was normal. healthy. that was a billion years as predator/prey in your bloodline pushing you to run further, faster, harder away from your pursuer.
but the pulse in your pussy? the hot clench of your stomach every time you froze when you heard the tiniest sound before you scrambled through another door you didn't recognize? the way you could feel your nipples tight and needy against your thin shirt Phillip had picked out for you just a few hours ago?
that wasn't fear.
not even close.
god, had he planned this?
of course he had, he must've. but how had he known?
you turned another corner, panting hard, staring at a long line of lockers, most decorated or obviously in use. your heart was racing, drowning out anything you might have heard beyond your own heavy breathing.
and that was when you saw it.
the door just to the left and all the way at the back of the room, opened ever so slightly. a tinge of sunlight falling through onto the dark floor.
you dove for it, but a thick muscled arm wrapped tight around your waist, hauling you backwards into a wide, familiar chest.
and even though you kicked your feet in the air and back at those sturdy legs, and scratched at the thick fabric covering that burly arm, it didn't do a single bit of good.
against your back you could feel the hard threatening lumps of the weapons and various equipment Phillip had strapped on. his other gloved hand raised, curling around the front of your neck, and you froze instantly, brain going blank.
"Caught you," he purred.
even just the sound of his voice like this was different somehow, and not just because of the balaclava. you'd never heard him sound like this, raw and vicious and arrogant. a predator who'd caught his prey.
the arm around your waist shifted, and his gloved hand moved to start playing with your breasts, rougher than normal, like he wasn't taking care to control himself for once.
"And what a pretty little thing I've caught." he sounded so proud, as his fingers found your nipple through your shirt and pinched, hard enough your hips bucked and you whined, way louder than you should have.
he only laughed, low and mean. "Look at these pretty things, could cut right through that flimsy fucking shirt, babycakes, couldn't they? Aw, sugar, don't tell me. Don't tell me you liked being hunted."
you heard it then, the slight waver in his voice. felt the shift in his stance as he continued to hold you aloft against his body. you couldn't feel the press of his hips, not with him wearing his vest and weapons, but you knew, you knew he was hard.
"P-Phillip-"
the hand around your throat tightened. not cutting off air, not yet, just threatening to. "Nah, honey. Don't even think about fucking lying to me."
with a few long strides he turned you to face the nearest blank wall, pinning you against it, barely able to brace yourself on your tippy toes as he reached down and shoved your skirt to the floor.
his groan drowned out your strangled sound of surprise. "Fuck, can see you liked it. Fucking soaked these panties, sugar, feel that?"
another whine snuck out of you when rough, blunt pressure rubbed at your cunt, the sensation lighting sparks up your spine, blinding you for a moment.
"I got a confession, honey." Phillip hooked a finger in your panties and ripped them right off. "I fucking liked it too."
he was still wearing the kit. still wearing the helmet, the balaclava, the gloves. you were completely and utterly at his mercy, dripping wet around his digits as he unceremoniously shoved two knuckle deep inside of you uncaring of the rough drag of the unfamiliar fabric against your ultra sensitive walls, and all you could do was stay there and fucking take it, squirming and moaning until you were dizzy with it.
you shouldn't be as close to coming as you were. he'd barely touched you, and what he had given you had been mean and cruel, but it just made your cunt drip and your thighs shake.
"Fuck," Phillip grunted in a tone you only recognized from when he'd already gone two rounds with you in a night just to find that it still wasn't enough. you'd never heard him sound this base and primal outside of nights like those. "Fuck."
he leaned forward as his hands disappeared, fumbling behind you, his masked mouth pressed against your ear, his body weight keeping you in place.
in the back of your head, you remembered his terms. once he caught you, he got to do whatever he wanted with you.
you could feel the heat of his breath as he bit out, "Gonna feel that fucking pussy on my cock right fucking now. And I don't wanna hear you whining that it hurts or you can't take it. Be a good girl, sugar and just - just fuck - fucking - god!"
Phillip usually liked to tease you. liked to fuck your folds, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit or only fucking you with the head of his cock and asking you sweetly why you weren't satisfied, why you were begging for more, wasn't he being a gentleman by not fucking you with the whole thing? why couldn't you be grateful and just take what he gave you? and only after you broke down into near hysterical teasing would he give in and finally sink deep.
but not tonight.
tonight he rammed balls deep in one thrust and set a deep, brutal pace that had your eyes rolling back, your hands clawing at the paint on the wall like it could help your fluttering, spasming walls around his cock as you struggled to take him, could help that deep point inside of you where he was ramming his cockhead against your womb.
like it could help the rising tidal wave of pleasure threating to hit you and knock you to the ground at any moment as he fucked you in the open for his own pleasure, like you were nothing more than a toy for him to get off with.
patience was out the window and he was proving a point that you didn't even know was in question.
"You belong to me," he growled, not even sounding that out of breath as he just kept pounding, easily catching your hips and holding you up when your knees gave out as you came untouched and unasked for on his cock. "Every inch of your body, and especially this perfect fucking pussy, it belongs to me, and I can do whatever I want with what's mine."
your head bobbed mindlessly, back arching sweetly as you tried to take his cock, every thrust jolting you head to toe. tears stung your eyes, started sliding down your cheeks as you shouted when he shifted the angle almost imperceptibly and started nailing your g-spot on every thrust.
"Say it," he snapped. "fucking say you belong to me, angel."
"I - I be-belong to y-you!"
"That's fucking right." his voice was like a snarl, uncaring of your squeal and your writhing as his hips picked up speed. "Think I don't know how fast you can run? Think I don't know how that pretty head works? Can't fucking fool me, babycakes, you wanted this almost as much as I did. My perfect fucking slut, god, so goddamn greedy for my fucking cock, take it so fucking good, c'mon baby, c'mon baby, c'mon baby fucking cum for me, one more time cum right on my cock or you won't cum this whole fucking week I swear to god-"
you screamed as another wave hit you, your body bucking against Phillip like you could push him off, secure in the knowledge you never could, that he'd keep you pinned against the wall with those hands bruising your waist as every muscle in your body contracted.
you could feel every inch of him inside you. every ridge, every vein, every pulse of his cock as he fucked you sloppy and deep.
and you could hear him, muttering hotly against your ear, "Atta girl, atta fucking girl, darlin', god, that's it, that's it, just stay tight for me feels so goddamn good, let me fill up that pretty pussy, hm? Want me to fill you up with my cum?"
speech was totally beyond you now, black spots blinking in and out of your field of vision, and all you could do was nod and whimper pathetically, weakly trying to tilt your hips back to give him the perfect angle.
"Fuck, yes, good girl, my good fucking girl ain'tcha darlin', just take it, be good and fucking - fuck, fuck!"
he slammed in one last time, all the way, deep enough it did more than just stretch you, it felt like he was about to break you, like one wrong move and you'd be feeling his cock in your throat and not just your stomach.
searing heat filled you as he pumped you full of his cum. your legs shook, the only thing holding you up was his hands, his cock, and the wall.
heat burned over your face and chest as you felt some of that cum start to drip out, coating your inner thighs, sliding down your leg.
all you could manage was a thin, reedy whine.
"Shh," Phillip soothed, hoarse and breathless. he shuffled closer, leaning against you and the wall a little more. with him that close you could feel the barest hint of a tremor in his own thighs pressed against your own. "Fuck, sugar. Gimme a second. Still fucking cumming."
and he was. you could feel every pulse, every twitch of his cock inside of you like this, could hear every mutter and moan he made as he rode it out.
when it was over he let out a long, relieved sigh, like an itch that had finally been discovered and scratched to satisfaction.
"Good girl." his hands gentled, arms sliding around your waist and mouth pressed against your neck, humming like a lazy cat in the sun as he carried you over to a long bench and sat down, keeping you in his lap, his softening cock still inside you.
you whimpered, jolting, but his gloved hands rubbed over your thighs, your belly, up between the valley of your breasts to cup your throat.
"Shh, s'alright, babycakes," he crooned. "Jus' need a little breather. Jus' wanna feel you a little longer."
one of his hands left you briefly, and you heard his helmet fall to the floor. and then his mouth was on your neck, smothering every bit of skin he could get in kisses.
the two of you moaned when an after shock of pleasure made you clench down on him again.
Phillip's hand turned your face to his so he could kiss your slack mouth. "Gonna be the fucking death of me, honey."
pouting, you forced out a disagreeable sound.
he just laughed, smoothing his hand over your stomach, squeezing the inside of your sore thigh. "The ideas you come up with? Having me hunt you in my own company building? God, that was so fucking hot."
for the moment, you refrained from reminding him that it had been all his idea. you were too fucked out and sleepy to bother with it for the moment.
Phillip's hands were checking on you, massaging muscle, testing sore spots, gently soothing abused skin and muscle as you climbed down from your high.
"Better be careful," he cautioned, smirking against your throat. "Or I'm gonna want to do this all the time. Gonna want to put you on those pretty knees in a conference room here, bend you over my desk and fuck that tight, pretty little asshole of yours."
you just moaned in response, which of course made him laugh.
anyway. the image of graves being Catholic burns so good. imagining him kneeling by his bed and praying every night, rosary in hand with his head bowed down, begging someone to forgive whatever sins he commited. always wearing a cross necklace and feeling genuine unease when he doesnt at least have it on his person. sitting in church after the service and staring at the statue of mary while waiting for his turn to get into the confessional booth. this may just be my downfall
Im just so madly in love with Graves (brainrot time)
He’s the type-a guy you wouldn’t expect that would be a softie, thinking he’s an alpha and all that but no.
No, he is FAR from that, this man would literally go out of his way and buy your favorite foods after sensing you had a bad day.
Graves would always be the first to open his arms and kiss you when either of you come home, his country tune always reminding you of home.
Graves would hug you as close as possible, smother you with his kisses, while you try to get away- all the while giggling- from his scruffed up beard.
Graves, despite being tired, will carry you in his arms just to set you down at the bed for you to wait for him to wash off his hard exterior from work.
He’ll quickly peck your forehead, whispering a soft, “don’t have too much fun without me, honey,” before leaving with a wink and oh-so-knowing grin of having an effect on you.
Graves, once he closes the bathroom door, is holding his heart— head leaning against the tilted wall, trying to catch his breath. Even though its only been a week or so since he’s seen you but goddamn did he feel like he first met you again.
Or felt like it was your guys first time sleeping on one bed at your apartment, with both of you far deep into the relationship enough that you’d accept him into your safe space.
You liked your space and privacy— and he respect that.
So much so that he hesitated and was more concerned of you inviting him over to your apartment for a movie date.
He’s so lucky he couldn’t say no to you that day, because that what was solidified in him that one day, he’d peck that lone finger of yours and finally intertwine it with a band tied to him.
The man is natural swooner.
But Graves is ALWAYS swooned by you.
He’d be the first to flirt but the longer the conversation gets, the more he gets flustered— ‘cause he damn can’t get his eyes away from your plush lips and sparkly eyes.
He can always find his reflection on them and he can just see- how much of a love sick fool he is.
You were like his reflection, glaring onto his eyes if he deserved it but showing him the best parts of him that made him secure and enough that he deserves your love and relationship.
Graves is an insecure man when it comes to you.
Graves double checks his outfit, constantly opens his phone to fiddle with the strands of his hair, gives himself bathroom peptalks— he does all these things to put his best foot forward, but all of that comes crashing down.
Especially when it came to your natural charm of putting him at ease.
You would throw away all of the things that made him grounded, only for you to hold your hand in his and guide him to a view he swore he only ever saw with you.
Graves is a man, which he soon came to terms with, who- in the forefront of strife- does not shy away from it.
Especially when it came to you and him, bells ringing in echoes as you slowly approach him, and this time— he holds out his hand for you to take.
To show you that he can love, and love he does with you. <33
“an invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. the thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.”
~~~
there was a moment in simon's life when he yearned for some kind of connection.
a relationship. to be cherished by someone else, to have someone to come home to and hold, feel the soft beating heart in his arms that slowly fades his mask away. someone who would melt his cold, dead heart, making him warm again.
well, shit happens, and he stopped.
he's broken, he didn't even know how many pieces have fallen apart, scattered around and too small and tedious to pick up. there was no way someone like him would have any chance, or even deserves a chance in the first place. it wouldn't be fair. it's only right to give up the idea of even any romance or whatever his old, naive heart thinks of.
it's less trouble, and there's no use chasing for something so impossible.
ghost poured himself into work, focusing on each and every grueling mission thrown his way. much more productive than spending his time wallowing his lonesome, or even just drowning his sorrow with alcohol while he watches some 6/10 show on the tv, knowing full well he can't be arsed to pay attention to it and just using it as background noise.
life was easier like this. it was lonely, but it sure was easy.
until he met you.
he bumped into you when you were at the base, and you were walking around cluelessly. he knocked over your files, papers scattered around the ground, and he helped pick it up. you were wearing a visitor badge, he noticed, and the papers were some of the stuff for the military, with a shadow company logo on the header. ghost just assumed you worked for the company, and plus some shadows have been staying at the base for the upcoming mission.
you laughed nervously, thanking him as you dusted off yourself, taking the files from him. he didn't know why, but his heart clenched when he saw your nervous smile and red cheeks, which concerned him. was that a sign of a heart attack?
still, he tried to push it to the back of his head and told you to be careful, lots of people wandering around the base since it's a busy day, and to secure those papers more thoroughly since they seem to be important files. you nodded, thanking him again and asked if he could show you the meeting room, since you couldn't find it.
well, he was going to go there anyway, so he'll walk with you. why not? it's not like his heart has been thumping faster and faster in his ribcage and he's trying so hard to ignore.
ghost keeps listening to you talk, about seemingly nothing meaningful, yet somehow interested him. weather? yeah, been cloudy lately, it's not great for flying later. shadows? bunch of rowdy bastards, but they get the job done good. tall people everywhere at the base? surprisingly, yeah. not much of a surprise considering you're quite small to ghost, but a lot of people are shorter than him so it's not much of a surprise. he just nods along with you.
the two of you were halfway when he saw graves, talking to some other shadows in the hallway until he saw you, immediately approaching you. the commander quickly bombarded you with questions, asking where you had been and how you were late for the meeting for ten minutes. you explained how you had to pick up the documents you left in the car and you forgot where the room.
graves introduced you to ghost as his assistant, a secretary to help him with some paperwork for the shadows. you'll just be here for a while and then you'll stay behind and work some more on paperworks for your boss while he's away. he placed his hand behind the small of your back as he ushered you into the room, looking over to ghost to make sure that he's following. there was a small hint of something in his eyes, a slight glare, as if judging him for seeing how you're being friendly to him.
was he jealous?
ghost let out a sigh, his heart clenching just slightly as he walked inside the room, seeing how graves kept you by his side while he started the meeting.
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imagine Graves walking past your room and hearing your moans and whimpers as you touch yourself... i bet he cant help but lean against the door and jerk it to your pants hehe
GGRHRR BARKBARK
Graves hated the way you tempted him. Without knowing, too. That was the worst part, you acted all innocent about it.
He, in the hallway, walks past your room’s door, hearing a whimper from inside. The pang of arousal he felt in his core from that alone could’ve sent him to his knees. Graves leans against the doorframe, frustrated, he fumbles with his belt.
He can practically feel his jeans getting tighter around his waist when you let out another whine, he attempts to unbuckle his belt without the clanking sounds of the metal. Graves could hear you panting behind your door, he wouldn’t be able to look you in your eyes the next day in a mission breifing.
“Fhhck…” you whine, probably biting onto something, your blanket, a pillow, maybe even your sleeve, that had him going. He’s just throbbing now, dick still in his boxers, his jeans peeled back just enough for him to trace around his tip.
If only you could see what you do to him, he's pressed himself against the wall outside your door, shaking, practically needing to cum in his pants like a fucking schoolboy.
Tw: Sub Philip and Dom Reader, Spanking and slapping, Brat behaviour from Philip, Orgasm denial, Hair pulling, Hands behind back, Touch denial, Porn with little to no plot, and as per usual Unedited
A/N: im not that satisfied with this one, kind of shit and a bit ooc Philip, i might have to revisit this one and edit it
"Co-Come on sugar, let me have it.. please?" Panting out, in the verge of tears, the CEO of the shadow company begging to cum inside of you, the main and only hacker of his military and secret services company.
You two fooling around has been going on for a very long while, longer than you have been in the company, it actually started when you were under Laswell's wing.
She took you in after you got caught in a random motel, trying to hack into the military devices to get information to sell at someone that was requesting them at a very high price. You needed the money and well.. its safe to say it was a trap and Laswell made you a deal that you couldn't deny antway, it was to either end up in federal jail or work for her.
So a few months in, General Shepherd ordered you and her to work with Graves, you and him immediately started bickering to the point Kate had to cut it out before it got physical. Somehow all of that fighting lead to you "fucking the stress out" in one of the meeting rooms, which lead to being a regular thing, and as you can guess, by some reason, you were transferred at his company and your loving hate relationship continued even stronger to the point even his soldiers knew what was up but didn't have the guts to say anything.
Back to the matter at hands, Graves has been pissed off since he woke up, getting a call from a rather annoyed Shepherd about some shit you could care less, however Philip decided to throw all that anger towards his men, pushing them to the brink of exhaustion, then when that wasn't enough he stormed into your office yelling up a storm
You leave out a long sigh, spinning around from the computer to face him, looking at him as he paced around the room still yelling, which annoyed you even more, "Will you calm the fuck down? Im trying to work here Philip.."
If looks could kill you'd be left for dead. He stormed towards you, gripping the armrests of your spinning chair and leaning down on you, your noses almost touching he stares at you with his cold blue eyes "You're trying to test my patience, sweet cheeks?" "Not really but youre testing mine right now Philip, calm down."
As if he was itching for it, Graves grabs you by the collar and kisses you roughly, pulling you up from your chair and slamming you on the edge of the table, nearly knocking off the computers monitor from it.
As his lips travel from your face, heavy breathing and all, biting down your throat to the point it actually hurts, you have enough and pull his hair to get him off of your abused throat, making him groan out.
"And what do you excatly think youre doing huh? Biting and slamming me around isn't gonna help you out. How about you start behaving. and. sit. the. fuck. down."
With each sentence, a particularly rough pull of his hair making him yelp in pain, making him sit on the same chair he pulled you out off of, then leaning close to his ear "touch me once and i stop, you got that you little shit?" He could only nod, he folds his arms behind the wheel chair, looking you with puppy eyes as he waits for your next move
"If you wanted a quick fuck you could have just said so, behaviour like this isnt going to get you anywhere and you know that, seems like you like to be tossed around huh?" You unbuckle his jeans, pulling out his now hard rock cock and start slowly stroking him, making a long whine roll out of Philip's mouth, a bundle of pleas and begging melding together to form nonsensical words
After lubing him up with his precum, you pull your pants down and hop on his lap, lining him on your hole but now sitting down on his cock just yet, earning whinings and groans from the blonde as he thursts his hips up
You smack him across his face, a loud cry as you scold him "You need to behave if you wanna cum, the more you act up, the less im willing to give it to you, got that?" He could only nod and as if you were a devine being, a mantra of "thank you" and "please" falls from his lips as you finally sink down on him and start moving up and down on him in a fast pace
Just as he was about to cum you stop, earning a fustrated sob from Philip, teary eyes and bottom lip puckered out "You know what i just told you, dont act as if you dont remember."
You start at the fast peace again, this time more erratic since your own climax was almost reaching its peak, not stopping until you made yourself cum, and seeing how desperate Graves was acting you decided to reward him
"Youre close aren't you? Youve been so good, you can cum now" and with that, Philip starts slamming his hips upwards, making you hold onto the headrest of the chair and scream when you cum, making him cum at the same time, panting and groaning heard through the room and probably throughout the corridor.
After a few minutes of catching your breath, you pull your head from Philip's neck and look at him in the eyes.
"You okay? Are we good?" He weakly nods, leaning in to kiss your lips but missing it and kisses the corner of your mouth, you chuckle as you list yourself off of him, his and your cum running down your legs as you lean in on the chair "Youre gonna behave now? No more temper tantrums?" "No more temper tantrums." "Good boy" and with thay you walk into the build in bathroom to get a towel to clean the both of you.
Hello everyone! My inbox is open! What I do and my rules are on my pinned post! I'm not that strict, and I'm actually pretty desperate for literally any requests.
