#philipgraves

jeff is so me we love you jiff

(uh from con few years back lmao 🤤✌️)

I made such cool friends tbf and there was another rlly awsome graves and me made friends!!!

goof ass pose 🥹🥹

A continuation of this post.

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They were being watched. You saw that black van several times a day driving through your street. Sometimes it was parked on the side, and while the windows were tinted you could tell someone was inside. Part of it was thanks to the training Phil had given you when- well. When your loving fiancé had still been around to care for you. Telling you he would have people come after him, that would try and hurt her to get to him. Jokes were on whoever was trying to hurt them now, since Phillip hadn’t been around for two years. Losing his life in Mexico, in a fight that he thought he could win, but ultimately didn’t. Leaving behind his fiancée and his son. Not that Phillip knew he was a father, you had learned about your pregnancy after his ashes had already been delivered to your house. The same house you had bought together on your fifth anniversary to live together and grow a family. You still sat with the urn in the evenings, telling Phil all about your day and your little one. The pregnancy hadn’t been easy, but Nathaniel had been nothing if not supportive. Nathaniel Graves- your late fiancé’s older brother. You supposed he felt guilty for his brothers’ demise, and tried caring for you the best he could.

With the birth of Phillip Junior, named after his late Father, your world took on a new priority. Some nights had been tough, and they still were. The little munchkin was old enough to toddle around now, and babble a few words to show what his needs were. Another hard pill to swallow for you was the fact that little Phillip was a carbon copy of his papa. Dirty blonde hair and the same blue eyes you had fallen in love with. And the same attitude. It made you miss the grown man even more, with the way your toddler demanded appy slices. Phillip hadn’t left a will, not that you were made aware of anyway, but his brother had left you a sizeable amount of inheritance money. It enabled you to quit your job and care for your son properly, the way the little boy needed. Phil had always wanted you to be a housewife. Provide for you, knowing he made the numbers easily for a comfortable life. You’d always denied his wish, wanted to earn your own money. One child later, and widowed while not even married and you granted Phillip his wish.

Phil’s second in command had come around to collect all files and evidence of Shadow Company 6 months after the incident. Theodore Wiscon was a scary man. 6 feet 5 inches in height, broad shoulders and a strong muscled torso. He had kind eyes, and the way they had softened even further seeing your baby bump, you couldn’t help but let Uncle Theo be a part of your son’s life. Now- Theo only came around sporadically. What, with having to run Shadow Company now in absence of your fiancé, but he made sure to spoil your little man rotten whenever he did. He’d also been kind enough to pay you a monthly allowance, assuring you it was what Phil would’ve wanted. The first thing you did when you noticed the van was text Theo about it. He’d asked you to do so, whenever you thought you were in danger. Two men of Shadow Company showed up at your door only hours later, looking at Phillip playing on living room floor. Telling them about what you had seen, the taller one of the two assured you they were going to make sure nothing would happen. He’d introduced himself as Vance. The other one stayed woefully quiet, before introducing himself as Matthews. They informed you they were just going to have a look around, to make sure there wasn’t an immediate threat.

The two men stayed around for a while, sleeping in the guest room that you had turned Phil’s old office into. It had hurt you to change the room, open up a window to air out the lingering scent of Phil’s cologne. You fed Vance and Matthews for the better part of two weeks, the two made sure to pay special attention to the little boy sitting on a big boy chair already, brabbling about all kinds of things, with some normal words mixed in between. Theo wanted to see them after those two weeks, and Vance and Matthews made sure to escort you. Matthews sat behind the wheel, while you were squished in the backseat with Phillip and Vance, the latter having a gloved hand on his weapon and watching the neighborhood as they left. The security system was live when they left, both Theo and Nathaniel had made sure to get you and Phillip the best one there was. One that send an alert out to Shadow Company so they could come and help you. They were faster than the cops most days anyway. Phillip was ecstatic to visit Uncle Theo at work, climbing all over the mountain of a man and wanting to sit in all of the armored vehicles they walked past. According to Theodore, the neighborhood was clean and there was no one suspicious around.

Vance and Matthews drove you and Phillip home a day later, the two of you having stayed the night on base of Shadow Company, if simply for the little boy to enjoy Uncle Theo’s presence. They dropped you off at the end of the street as to not rouse more suspicion from your neighbors. Phillip needed to stretch his little legs either way. Feeling eyes on you, you turned partially to the direction, only to see Miss Steward on her porch, her wrinkly hands on her banister. Are you alright, love? She called across the street, no doubt referring to the masked and armored men having stayed with you for the past two weeks. “Yes, Miss Steward. Just some friends coming for a visit. Thank you for asking.” With that you herded your son through the front door, locking the door and the place down at the same time. Security was still live, no alerts on your phone. Phillip asked for some juice before nap time, something you granted the little boy happily. Putting him down for a nap, it gave you some much needed alone time. A nap as well, and some time to scroll through your phone, looking at the various pictures of Phil. Jesus Christ, you missed your fiancé more than anything.

There was no sight of the van again. Theo installed you some security cameras as well, and both him and Nathaniel asked for access of them. Agreeing easily, knowing they wanted to keep you and Phillip safe, you were busy making snacks in the kitchen when you heard your son call out to you. Mama, just that single word had you hauling ass out the front door, watching your son having backed up onto the porch. Across the street, on a shadowy bench, sat a stranger. Dressed from head to toe in black, a black Hoodie pulled over his head, and what appeared to be a balaclava on his face. Immediately you lifted Phillip into your arms and carried him inside giving Theo a call. This time it took Vance and Matthews only thirty minutes to show up at your door. The stranger was long gone then. “I’m scared they’re a kiddy fiddler,” The term had been inherited from Phil, who had used that word instead of the official term for it. Again, Vance and Matthews combed through the neighborhood, all nice and sneaky. They didn’t find anything, and kind of looked at you like you had lost your mind. Thank the heavens for the security cameras then, because a quick scroll through the footage showed them said stranger on the bench watching Phillip.

Said footage was what got Theo to her doorstep within the hour. He ordered the two mercenaries to go have another look, and to look in every fucking nook and cranny to make sure that bastard wasn’t going to hurt his honorable nephew. You fed three grown fucking soldiers that night, glad someone enjoyed your cooking as much as they did. Phillip was a spoiled little baby, though he also enjoyed mamas cooking whenever you cooked for them. Theodore left with Vance and Matthews the following morning but left you a 9 Millimeter pistol to make sure you could defend yourself in case of an emergency. Unnecessary, seeing as Phil had left you a whole locked closet worth of weapons, but you weren’t about to disclose that information. Besides, you knew next to nothing about firearms and weren’t sure if they needed regular cleaning or oiling or whatever. Locking the gun into the lockable kitchen cabinet, just out of reach of Phillip but perfectly convenient should an intruder make his way into the place. It left you thinking about possibly renovating the house.

Currently, you stepped into a small hallway, where the coats and shoes were placed. Walking from said hallway, you stepped into the living room with a large couch you and Phil had picked together. And spent some quality time together on. Possibly making Phillip on one lonely evening, but you had never been one to deny your late fiancé a spontaneous quickie. From the living room was an open arch that led to the kitchen, with the lockable cabinet right at the door. The kitchen bled into an eating area, that was kept as clean as you could with a two-year-old menace living in the same house as you. Returning to the living room, another door led into what had been Phil’s office now turned guest room, which had led into the mudroom and the garage. A stairwell was right next to the door, which took your upstairs to the master bedroom and its own ensuite. Right across the hall was the old guest room turned Phillip’s bedroom. The urn had long moved into your bedroom, standing on Phil’s bedside table so it felt like he was still sleeping with you.

You were eating cookies at Miss Steward’s table with Phillip when the security alert flashed on your phone. The very same alert was going to Theo’s computer, knowing shadow company was going to show up soon enough to check it out. Taking a deep breath, you waited until you saw the armored vehicles pull up, to check out the premises. You could see the whole ordeal from Miss Steward’s kitchen window. The old lady was a saint, asking you if you needed a place to sleep. And if you were going to be safe. “I will be, Miss Steward. Thanks again. Just a lot of things happening at once.” It was true. A lot of things had happened recently that kept you up at night. If only Phil was here. He’d keep you and the munchkin safe. Waiting for the all clear, you were safe to return home only 15 minutes later. They hadn’t found anything, having combed through the entire home twice. Theo showed up at your door the same evening wanting to make sure you were alright. Right there, in the dim light of your dining table, you realized how lonely you were. Theodore also seemed to notice, because soon he had leaned over and pressed his lips to yours.

It felt good, at first, the first human contact in a little over two years now. Realization settled as one of Theo’s hands found their way up your sweater, and you grabbed it while looking at him pleadingly. You couldn’t do it. Your heart and body still belonged to the man that sat cremated in an urn on his bedside table. Theodore apologized and left only a few minutes later. Thankfully this wasn’t going to become an issue. Except then it did, because later at night your phone flashed with yet another security alert, a silent one, as to not alert Phillip sleeping in the other room. Slipping out of bed, and pulling on your robe, you moved downstairs as quietly as possible. The light was on in Phil’s old office. No doubt someone was trying to get information on him. Carefully unlocking the cabin in the kitchen, you grabbed the gun from its hiding place, quickly sliding back the safety. Thankfully both Phil and later Theo had taught you how to use one efficiently. Calling out to the intruder that you were armed, and were not afraid to use the gun, you received no reply. Of fucking course not. Slipping in through the ajar door, you found an empty bedroom. Checking under the bed, and the closet found it empty. The mudroom and the garage were empty as well.

Just as you were about to give Theo an update, before the Shadows showed up again, you turned to run into a chest. Before you could scream, two hands grabbed the gun from yours, surprisingly gentle, disarmed you and then pressing a warm hand over your mouth. This was it, you thought. You were going to get raped, and killed, in the safety of your own home. Tears spilled over your cheeks and the intruders hand still pressed to your mouth. Soothing shushing suddenly sounded said stranger. Opening your own eyes you were met with a wave of nostalgia. Blue grey stared back at you, albeit covered by a black hoodie. The very same one you had seen not a few days prior. Understanding flashed in those eyes, and the hand was lowered from your mouth, cupping your neck in a loving gesture. “Phil?” You croaked out. Another soft shush left the strangers covered face. You were going crazy. Absolutely fucking bonkers, considering you saw an intruder as your dead fiancé. Just how far gone were you? You weren’t even aware you needed meds, and suddenly they sounded good if you were hallucinating. In hindsight, maybe you should’ve fucked Theodore to get some sense into you. Your fiancé Phillip Graves was dead. Burned in a tank, in Mexico, after General Shepherd blackmailed him into starting a war he couldn’t have possibly won.

Alejandro: (Pick up a video call) Hey Ghost, what’s the matter?

Ghost: Hi Alejandro, just calling to…… what on your shoulder? Who is it?

Alejandro: (feeling Graves’ head moved and whined sleepily) it’s no……hey, it’s ok, mi amor, keep sleeping, I am almost done… that’s it…(proceeds cooing Graves back to sleep and look back at Ghost like nothing happened) sorry, what are you saying?

Ghost: …………For fuck sake, is that Graves? You let him sleep like that when you are at work?

Alejandro: Speaking from the man who does the same thing except his partner snores like a fucking dinosaur. (Kissing Graves hair)

[Unexpected meeting with Ex]

I felt like writing some Philip Graves Angst, so here you go guys.

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Philip Graves had been a private man.

 He was the Commander of Shadow Company, its CEO, the face of hundreds of Mercenaries. What they didn’t know was that he was a lover, a boyfriend, having someone home that waited for him whenever he was gone. Having your world crash down around you was a funny feeling. Missiles, Russians, Shepherd. The man Phil had been so reluctant to talk about. He’d blackmailed your fiancé into starting a war he couldn’t possibly win. It was Shephard’s fault Phil was gone. He’d sent him to his death. According to Kate Laswell, sitting in their kitchen with a cup of coffee between her hands, Shepherd was still out there. The dainty little ring was glittering on your left hand. As if Phil was telling you that he was still with you. Miss Laswell’s eyes had focused on the dainty thing the second you had offered some coffee to her. It was yours and Phil’s anniversary today. He’d promised to be back from Mexico by then.

 Had dropped to one knee only a month prior to going to Mexico and asked you to marry him. You had wanted to start a family with that man. Laswell tried to get you to understand that he was evil but they didn’t know Philip. They didn’t know the way he had held you in the mornings, the way he had made you snacks or made dinner for you. How when his men showed up at your house, they were all excited to meet someone close to their commander. Phil had referred to Shadow Company as his second family. His first one had always been you, and you had accepted that. Could understand the closeness. Had fed the various squad leaders on rainy evenings before they all went back to his office to discuss tactics. They didn’t know the way Philip cried with you every time that pregnancy test came back negative. How he was still your rock in a stormy sea, but those tear stains on his cheeks had been unmistakable. Told that it would stick eventually, to keep your head up.

 After the second cup of coffee, you kicked Laswell out as kindly as you could. The woman nodded in understanding, and gave you her condolences. Spending the rest of the afternoon emptying out your stomach into the toilet bowl, you hugged one of his hoodies close. It still smelled like him. His cologne and a scent that was so distinctively Phil. Thoughts kept circling your mind. About Shepherd still being out there, alive and well, while your fiancé’s ashes were being transported to your house as you mourned him. It wasn’t fucking fair. You stopped eating. Barely kept up your water intake. Phil wouldn’t want you to wither away. You knew that. His brother stopped in a few times a week to make sure you had a stocked fridge and were in fact eating. Your whole neighborhood checked in on you. The old lady from the house across from yours brought you cookies. They were still warm, and you cried over them in your living room. Phil had loved those cookies.

 Having his ashes delivered, you placed him on the dresser in the empty bedroom. Just a bed and a dresser, a meagre guest room. It was supposed to be the nursery, should your wish for a family finally take. A British Captain showed up at your door on week 6 after the talk with Laswell. He also gave you condolences. You also offered him some coffee, which he’d accepted. He looked around your house discreetly, and you couldn’t care less so you let him. Changes began to take place in the house. His office stayed the same as it was. Eventually one of the Leaders would step up to take Commander. They would need his documents then. Phil’s brother came over again, helped moved the dresser in the bedroom to a different wall. A different bed was placed in the guest room. More comfortable. Your friends asked you if you were going to go back out there. But you couldn’t. You were still Philip’s fiancée. You would stay true to him. He wouldn’t want that.

 8 weeks after the news broke, your world came crashing down again. You cried with the urn clutched to your chest, sobbing about what you were supposed to do. A stray ray of sunshine hit your face, and you knew Phil was telling you it was going to be okay. “I don’t know what to do, Phil. I can’t do this alone,” you sobbed. Later that evening, his brother showed up again. Helped you move furniture again, build some more. This time, you knew, it would take a bit longer until you remodeled again. You spent the evenings in the guest room, talking to Phil as if he was still around. Next to his urn were two photos. One of you two after getting engaged, and another of when you two had started dating. One more thing had added the little altar. A little pink stick. Leaning against the urn, you started giving him updates. Showing pictures to the urn, telling him about the appointments. The dresser was moved to a different wall again. This time overlooking the crib.