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You immediately stiffened and gripped onto your weapon as the vehicle you were in approached the already parked ones ahead. Alejandro could be seen shoving an accusatory finger in Graves' face and inaudibly yelling. At least from where you could see, he was visibly perturbed. You swung the car door open and made quick steps over to the others, stopping at a feet next to Rudy.
"Rodolfo, qué diablos está pasando?" you asked, watching the scene before you with widened eyes. "Graves y sus ratas son traidores! Están tomando nuestra base!" you furrowed your brows, eyes darting up to Graves and the Shadows disbelievingly. Instantly, you flicked your gun off of safety mode, throwing the Shadows behind you a tangible look of disgust over your shoulder.
"—the fuck did you just say to me, pendejo..." Alejandro drawled, his voice eerily low now. It brought your attention back to the situation beforehand. You lifted your head and was met with the sight of Graves staring straight at you. Every fleeting, loving touch, every intimate moment shared, every fond memory with him began to dissipate into gradual trepidation; hatred.
"You're out of line, Graves." the Scotsman warned, standing defensively behind Alejandro. Ripping his gaze away from yours he turned to look at the pair, "Don't do that. Don't... do that. No one needs to get hurt here." you detected the slightest of a raise in his tone.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see the broody form of Ghost, his skull mask bringing him to light by the luminous streetlamp behind him. "Are you threatening us?" his gruff tone questioned, deep and low per usual.
"Soldier, I don't make threats. I make guarantees. So let's not, do this." Graves began to raise his voice again, louder and more confident this time. You decided to step in, taking large and quick steps towards the bastard. "You're out of your goddamn mind, Graves! How could you do this!" you shouted, the compulsion to shoot him in the face was almost too difficult to ignore. All Shadows raised their weapons to you, signing it off as a warning to back away, or they'll shoot. You scoffed and held onto your gun like a vice.
"Tex, don't you get involved in this." he shook his head and looked down, repositioning his stance before meeting your gaze again. There was a fleeting plea in his eye, and it you hadn't known any better you'd have took it for desperation.
You heard a heavy breath behind you, "I'm calling Shepard," Soap muttered through gritted teeth, loud enough for everyone to hear before he turned to walk away. He was stopped dead in his tracks when Graves spoke again, "General Shepard sends his regards. He told me y'all wouldn't take this well." Pure, unadulterated rage seeped through your every bone, your every muscle. Jaw ticking, both you and Ghost yelled in tandem, "He knows about this?!"
White-hot anger and pain shot through your entire being at his next words, "He's put me in command of this entire operation from here on out. So, y'all need to stand down. It's time to let the pros finish this. And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It's not!" you laughed venomously, staring Graves in the eyes with disgust. "Pros my ass! You think this is professional? You think anybody who is pro would pull a stunt like this? Go to hell, Graves!" you spat, a maelstrom of emotions clouding your better judgment. You had spent every moment loving the man before you, trusting him with your life, only for him to betray you and your comradery.
"I've got my orders," he pushed, taking a step closer to you, "you have yours. It's over Tex, for all of you. Now go home before somebody gets hurt." he continued to watch you with those pleading eyes, internally begging you to let up.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, cabrón? My men are inside!" Alejandro bellowed, and Graves broke his gaze from your one last time. "I'm afraid not," he announced, "your men have been..." pausing for a moment, you watched as he sucked his teeth before finishing his sentence, "detained."
A beat of silence passed, and your heart slowly sunk at his words. You looked back at Alejandro, taking a note of the livid expression he wore, then flickered your gaze to Soap and Ghost. The two met your eyes and promptly nodded, just as Alejandro cursed and lunged at Graves.
Turmoil broke loose and adrenaline overtook your entire body. It felt as if time was going in slow motion as Shadows began to blast bullets mercilessly. You lifted your gun and shot at Graves halfheartedly before leaping for cover.
You grabbed a nearby Shadow from behind and plunged a blade into his neck, leaving him to slump to the ground while grasping the injury, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. You managed to take three more down before you ran out of ammo.
"Shit!" you cried loudly, retrieving a throwing knife from its sheath on your cargos. You lifted your gaze and watched as Soap was shot in the shoulder. He fell to the ground with a thud, a deceased Shadow falling alongside him and your heartrate began to accelerate impossibly faster.
It was deadly silent as you left your hiding spot stealthily, approaching Soap's body from behind and dropping to your knees, taking Soap into your hold. "Soap! Soap, we need t-" your words were cut short as a searing pain ignited in your thigh. You dropped your teammate and stared blurry-eyed at the hole in your flesh.
"Tex! Johnny! Get out of here, go!" Ghosts' British accent went through one ear and out of the other, barely registering a word he said, you shakily went for the medkit attached to your hip, until the sound of another gunshot rang out and the kit was destroyed before you. "GO NOW!" Ghost hollered again, louder this time.
The two of you stood in tandem, limping for the open spaces in the guard rails and sliding down the extremely wet grass, rain pelting hard and thoroughly drenching you the further you slid.
----------------------------------------------------
You managed to crawl your way into a dark and abandoned alleyway. The pain of the wound was becoming too hard to bear, with every impact of your knee hitting the ground the result would be blaring, eye-watering pain. It was slowing you down, and it would get you killed.
A shaky sigh pushed its way past your lips as you sat up against a brick wall, undoing your belt and slowly peeling the wet material off of your skin. You lifted your shirt to your mouth and placed it between your teeth, repositioning your hands to the cotton material and using all of your strength to tear off a large section of it. It would leave you with an extremely exposed abdomen, but you didn't mind it, you needed to do whatever you could do to stop the bleeding.
Taking the torn piece of fabric and wrapping it around the wound, tying tight, you took the long-forgotten belt by your side and tied it on aswell, clasping it around your leg even tighter than the shirt. The extremity of the pressure threw you into a whirlpool of otherworldly pain, still, you grabbed onto the wall and used all of your strength to stand.
Reaching over to your shoulder, you latched onto the walkie-talkie and began to click through channels. Graves' voice was heard before you abruptly clicked off, a bit harsher than necessary. You ran into a channel of deafening silence and knew it was the one you were looking for. Instantly bringing the device to your mouth you began to speak into it, desperate and praying to god for a response.
"Ghost, this is bravo 0-7, how copy?" you asked for the fourth time. A familiar burning invaded the back of your throat, you pushed it away. "Soap—" pausing momentarily, the feeling of defeat you know all too well began swirling around in your chest, "Soap, this is bravo 0-7. How. Copy." you asked again. And again. After a minute of no response you deemed them as good as dead and began to move on.
You tumbled through the alleyway as quietly as you could until you found an alternative way. Taking small steps, knife in hand, you slowly poked your head around the corner to check for any Shadows before deciding the coast was clear.
Quickly shuffling over to the opposite side of the street, you kept yourself glued to a wall to avoid quicker detection. In the distance, some indistinct chatter could be heard amongst what you assumed to be Shadows, given that any civilian they ran across had probably already had their brains blown out.
Graves and his men had gone on a bloody rampage, and there was absolutely nothing you wanted more than to tie the bastard up and have him begging for mercy before you. You slowly dropped back down to your knees and inched closer silently, close enough so that you could hear whatever it was they were talking of.
"—tellin' me you see that big boy with the skullface and you're not gonna start sweatin'?" he asked, the Shadow over the walkie-talkie responding with, "I'm not gonna see him—" he tried to say, but not before the one nearest to you cut him off. "You're right. You won't see him. If you see him, you're fuckin' dead already." The two Shadows shared a laugh and you grimaced, how dare they sit there and have a conversation as if nothing was fucking wrong?
"Yeah bro? And what about that bitch, what was 'er name, Rex?" The Shadow closest to you said, and your ears perked up immediately.
As soon as he said that, the man on the opposing line went quiet. "Dude. I seriously wouldn't underestimate her like that. I've seen her skills my fuckin' self, she's not one to fuck around with." the deadpan in his voice was evident. "Yeah, right,” the Shadow spat, “I'd love to see her tiny ass try me," he mumbled, readjusting his gun.
Deal, you thought.
Willing yourself to move forward your hand slowly crept down and removed your knife from its sheath. The closer you crawled, the more your anger grew as you thought back to what the Shadow had said. How he brushed you off like a mere bag in the wind.
What about that bitch, what was 'er name, Rex?
I'd love to see her tiny ass try me
What about that bitch
See her tiny ass try me
That bitch
Tiny ass
He collided with the ground face first, smashing the helmet and night vision goggles to pieces. The loud sound of his nose cracking resonated through the dewy air, leaving a sense of satisfaction and pride to swirl in your chest. If the fall hadn't killed him already, the way you jammed your blade into his neck several times certainly did.
You wiped the blood on his clothing and stood, turning to walk away, but not before an idea sparked in your head. Spitefully, you kneeled down and grabbed the walkie-talkie, lifting it to your lips. "Shadow 3-2, I'm assuming, as it says on the walkie, I appreciate your compliment," you inhaled sharply when his voice rang out, "You fucking bitch! I'll find—" is what you heard from the other side, although it was staticky and difficult to make out. "No, 3-2. I will find you, and I will send you straight to hell, juuust like your buddy here. Too bad we can't send pictures on this thing," you frowned, voice feigning innocence.
Sighing, you promptly clicked the walkie off and threw it to the ground, picking up the abandoned gun of the Shadow before you and shooting it. Maybe delivering a couple kicks to the owner too.
------------------------------------------------------
You rounded a corner, breath hitching and hugging your body to the wall impossibly close as you heard voices to your left. Loud. Close. Your heart began to pound in your ears as you immediately clocked one of the voices.
It was Graves. Graves and two other Shadows.
He was holding a civilian hostage, trying to drawl information out of her while speaking terribly in the native tongue. The woman begged and cried, repeating the same words over and over. "Por favor! Mi familia!" A kick was delivered to her side and she doubled over in pain. "I'm gonna ask you one more goddamn time, woman!" The Shadow yelled, grabbing the poor woman by her hair and pulling in a way that looked painful.
"Dónde. están?" he enunciated the words. Horridly. She sobbed loudly and began to pray, wriggling around in hopes of escaping his harsh hold. You watched as Graves wordlessly stood and watched the entire thing go down.
When the woman continued to refuse to give them what they wanted, he exhaled loudly, running a hand down his face. It was obvious that he was beyond frustrated. You implored the woman for not giving in, but you also knew what would come if you didn't do anything about it.
“Take 'er out," Graves instructed, spinning on his heel to walk away. You heard the Shadow mumble something before he lifted his gun and you panicked. Snatching the gun out of the holster attached to your hip, you fired three deafening shots and it seemingly grabbed their attention. Graves whipped his head around in the beat of a heart, the two Shadows immediately lowered their guns and the woman began to wail staccatos.
One Shadow groaned in frustration and whacked the woman in the temple with the harsh end of his gun, it knocked her out cold. It was a better alternative than death.
"Sir, did you..." the other Shadow asked, he didn't even have to finish it off for Graves to understand. "No. I didn't," he muttered, a twinge of a Texas accent in his voice. It was something you had always loved about him. Until now, given your current circumstances. "Let's go!" he whisper-yelled, signaling for both Shadows to follow him up the hill.
Your legs carried you as fast as they possibly could, making sure to make noise to bait them into entering the building.
"Fuck! It's one of them! Move your asses!" he hollered, increasing his pace to follow you. You slammed the door open and closed, eyes raking over the open space to find a place to hide for the timebeing. You were thankful that it was relatively dark in the room, until the realization that they have night goggles hit you like a train. You were a bag of blood in a shark bath.
The door swung open and your heart began to crescendo. You bit your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, not daring to make a sound as their footsteps pattered all around you.
"Come out..." you heard Graves' taunting words, "come out..." the footsteps gradually slowed, "wherever you are." a deafening silence engulfed every atom around you.
You took this as initiative to move, imagining that you were walking on a bed of feathers. It was so quiet that you were afraid your heartbeat would be a dead giveaway to where you were.
Silently rounding a corner, you had almost face-planted into a back clad with a tactical vest and weapons. So many weapons. Your eyes widened and lips parted as you stared incredulously at the amount of armory on the man. He started to move forward and you followed carefully behind, still painfully aware that there were two remaining monsters who were probably acquainted with such powerful objects. One more than the other, you’d bet.
As quietly as you could, you grabbed the Shadow by the neck and yanked him down to your height, jabbing him more times than necessary with your knife. Gently laying him on the wood floor, you moved quickly to collect all of the goods off of his body. You snatched the suppressed weapon gun out of his hand without hesitance and reloaded it, making your way to the other side of the house.
You figured that making a bit of noise would bring them to you, instead of dragging you to them to meet your impending doom after you're met with a surprise attack.
Your eyes scour over the room and find glass vases conveniently placed on a desk, all of them damn near calling your name. Tiptoeing over to them, you grab one and move back to your previous spot, ready to launch it and take off.
Giving yourself a mental countdown, you lurch the vase forward. It clatters to the ground with an ear shattering scream. If that didn't drag their asses over, then you didn't know what would.
It seemed to have worked though, heavy footsteps clambered from the hallway on the opposite side of the home and you darted efficiently, moving slickly toward whoever was on the other side. You silently eyed your prey as he stocked from side to side, investigating the broken china through and through.
Crouching and approaching from behind, you intended to knock him on his ass and shoot after removing his helmet, but this one had other plans. The Shadow whipped around and pulled the trigger. By some miracle, you managed to move and dodge the bullet by just the skin of your teeth.
"You think I'm stupid, hmm, you little bitch?" he barked loudly, delivering a kick to your stomach that sent you flying into the wall behind the two of you.
"A vase breaking on one side of the room, when the only other vases in sight are on a completely different side? What, did it grow wings of its own and fucking fly?" he cackled nastily, throwing his head back with laughter. He recovered and slowly lowered himself down to your height, purposefully antagonizing you. Lifting his night goggles, his dark eyes met yours and his hand reached out. You watched like a hawk with wary eyes, and suddenly, a blinding pain took over your senses completely.
You cried loudly, eyes darting down to look at the hand that was pressed on your bullet wound with visible strength and intention. The Shadow leaned closer, tantalizing you. His free hand grappled onto your jaw with a bruising grip.
"Let me tell you something, Tex," he muttered your codename mockingly, "I am Shadow 3-2. And my buddy that you killed... was my goddamn brother." The hold on your jaw became tighter, painful as hell. He stared at you with a clenched jaw, eyes lit with an anger induced delirium.
"I don't regret a fuckin' thing I did to him, how about that?" you said, a wide grin plastered on your face. You mustered up the finality of energy you had and spat directly into his eye, crawling away as fast as you could when he released you from his hold and shoved himself away. "I'm— I'm gonna fucking kill you..." he growled, hand moving to grab the gun in his holster, only to realize it wasn't there.
It was in your hands.
You were standing above him now, gun pointed smack dab on the center of his forehead. He managed to pry his eye open to peer at you above him. The belt had shifted and was no longer applying pressure to your wound, your hair was a mess, every square inch of your face was battered and every square inch of your body ached, yet here you stood, still fighting in the long run.
"I told you what I would do, Shadow 3-2, remember?" you gently grabbed your jaw in an attempt to soothe the aching area. "Yeah... yeah I know you do." you whispered and dropped your hand. You watched as his lips twitched upwards below you, and then they broke out into a smile, and then into a full on shit eating grin.
"See you there, Tex," his grin fell and you clicked off the safety, pinpointing the exact point of where you wanted to shoot.
And you shot.
You threw the gun down and exhaled shakily, ready to get the hell out of this godforsaken place and snack on popcorn with your cat in your humble abode.
Slow, steady claps could be heard from in front of you. You didn't even have to lift your head to know who it was.
"Well fuckin' done, baby. I mean that was just fantastic," Graves' slick voice resonated throughout the room. You finally willed yourself to look up and what you saw in front of you was a sight you'd usually never tire of... until now. He was clad in his usual military uniform, hair messy and matte eyeblack smeared attractively on face. "You know, seein' you like that turns me on so fuckin' much.”
You scoffed, rolling your head in the opposite direction. “What, you purposely came to the rescue late, just to watch the show? Maybe even hoping to help me in my little damsel in distress moment,” you mocked him, turning your head back to the man. He stared at you with wide, amused eyes and an ear-to-ear grin.
“I have,” he stepped closer, grin becoming wider, “nooo idea what you’re talking about.”
Calling his bullshit, you stood unmoving and just stared. In disgust? Shock? Anger? Hell, even you didn’t know. “Cut the shit, we both know you heard all that damn commotion. You probably watched me take down your other little Shadow, too,”
He only shook his head and smiled, attempting to make steps towards you, whilst you moved back, trying to get away. "Stay the fuck away from me, Phillip!" you shouted, holding a hand out. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you with furrowed brows. "And don't look at me. Don't you dare sit there and look at me like you have no idea what you did," you hissed, feeling extremely fatigued. You were not in the mood nor in good enough shape to do this with him.
"Y/N, I was following direct orders. What the hell else was I supposed to do?" he said, eyes never leaving your form. You gaped at the man in front of you disbelievingly, taking a step closer, "And look at where following direct orders got you! LOOK AT ME!" you snapped, the pent up anger, the pain, the frustration, it was all free and unrestrained now.
"Look. At. Me, Graves! You would risk hurting—no, scratch that, you would hurt the woman you love for direct orders?!" taking several more steps closer, you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest, "Is that all I fucking am to you? Work? You don't care about what happens to me, as long as you're getting paid, right? Am I right or am I fucking wrong." His eyes darkened, jaw clenched as he took a step closer, wrapping a hand around your wrist with oh-so gentleness.
"Now you know that is not true," his voice was low with warning.
Your eyes searched his, disgust and hurt was written all over you, even Graves could see it. He knew how you felt, and the fact that he wasn't saying anything about it made you all the angrier.
Unbearable anguish was the only thing that fueled whatever the hell you did next. You balled your fist and punched the daylights out of him. He staggered backwards with an increase of the rise and fall of his chest and held the area that you had punched. After several seconds, he was sucked back into reality and his blue eyes shot up to meet yours.
He took fast heavy steps toward you and caged you in his hold. The smell of him invaded your nose, filling you with the homey feeling of relief and comfort. Fuck, why did he smell so good? His hand went to quick work at your wrists, pinning you against the wall and pressing his body impossibly close to yours. His strained breaths were intermingling with yours as he bent down, lips a hair's breadth away from one another.
You searched his eyes deeply, almost losing yourself in the two separate continents themselves, two separate Oceania's. Even with how close the two of you were, it felt like you were miles apart, and only then did you meet in the middle of the miles when he licked his lips and closed the gap between you.
It started off intimate and tooth-rottingly sweet, but it shifted into something hungrier, something primal. Graves was trying to taste every square inch of you, he never wanted to let you go. It broke his heart for you to think that he thought so lowly of you. His tongue pushed into your mouth, tongues battling for dominance. You had no interest nor energy to win that battle, the only thing your mind being able to focus on was the growing arousal for the man before you. You felt the slickness of your cunt without him even touching you.
His free hand found its way into your hair and tugged, the force of it causing your head to fall back. Graves looked at you, the blue in his eyes almost entirely swallowed by with black. "I hate you," you whined as he tugged again, eyes almost immediately falling back down to your kiss swollen lips. He hummed against your cheek, trailing his lips down your neck and chest.
"Goddamn clothes..." he mumbled, mostly to himself, before ripping the remains of your already tattered t-shirt off of your body. His hands went to work at your bra quickly after, leaving your entire upper body exposed to him. He'd seen you naked hundreds times before, but to him, it’d always felt like the first.
Cupping your breasts, his lips went back to attacking your neck, leaving marks and bites in his wake. Looking up to meet your eyes, Graves slowly began to lower himself to the ground. You gaped incredulously at the sight of him, on his knees, before you. "Tell me again," he whispered against your belly, dragging his lips against every inch of you, touching, tasting, memorizing you. "Mm... tell you what," you closed your eyes in pleasure, digging your fingers into his scalp.
"How much you hate me," he reminded you, your eyes snapping at the recollection of his previous actions from not too long ago, but before you could protest, his skillful hands had already taken to your fly and he ripped your cargos down in a jerking motion.
The rough material had skimmed over your bullet wound and you bit your lip hard to keep from making any noises. Graves stood back to his full height and cupped your heat through the sopping wet material that blockaded him from you. A sharp intake of air could be heard from you and you bucked into his hand, wanting so desperately to feel him. To have him inside of you.
"Phillip, please," you met his eyes, something primal dancing between the two of you. A smug smirk pulled at his lips, damn near begging you to punch him again, maybe a little harder this time. You dug your nails into his bicep and pulled him closer by the nape. "You are not going to deny me after you got me shot, you fucking sadist." his smirk only widened at this, your desperation drew him closer, connecting his lips with yours once more. "But I am darlin'... I remember telling you to go home before someone gets hurt. Lookey here, right?" he cooed. You rolled your eyes so hard there was no doubt in your mind that they'd get stuck.
"God, I fucking hate you." you grimace, quickly running your hand down his chest, stopping right before his erection. He quirked a brow at you and you smiled charmingly in response. You groped through his pants, hard. His reaction was fucking priceless; a guttural groan pushing past his lips as he jerked forward. You trailed your hand over the length you were all too acquainted with, whispered to his ear, almost demandingly, "Take your pants off, Phillip."
A sultry laugh came from the man above you, and he finally looked up to meet your lust-laden gaze. "Who are you to tell me what to do, woman?" he queried. Before you could formulate a response Graves ripped your panties down, leaving them to pool at your ankles as he stuffed you with two wide, long digits. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, arms wrapping around his neck on instinct. His thumb gradually made its way to your clit and you sat there, nearly trembling from anticipation and excitement you could no longer keep blanketed.
"Want me to move?" he whispered, your head shook vigorously before you could even stop yourself, the absolute last thing you needed was for him to gloat. You knew your previous actions would be regrettable, and his next words proved just that: "Beg." he muttered, in all seriousness, teasingly biting a sensitive spot on your neck. You shuddered from the action, but didn't forget at all about what he had asked you to do.
"I'm not begging you, Phillip. I don't even want this." you pressed, as a result he removed his fingers from inside of you and slammed them back in, rubbing your clit in the way he knew you liked. You cried out, biting onto his shoulder to muffle just how much it had affected you. "Fuck," he grunted, it was difficult for even him to hold back. "Its—its fine. We'll sit here all night, and I'll tease your pretty little pussy until you're crying and whimpering for me to—" you dropped your head in his chest and exhaled. Something malicious flickered in his gaze, because he knew that he would get just what he wanted.
You rested your head against the wall and met his eyes, tongue darting out to wet your lips. His eyes darkened as he watched the action. "Graves—" he gave you a warning thrust. "Don't give me that. I wanna hear you say my name." he said, and you scowled at his words, "Graves is your name you—" your eyes widened a fraction as you felt him slipping his fingers out of your heat.
Your hands gripped onto his wrist and you stared him dead in the eye, "Phillip, baby please," you pleaded, the words sounded like honey rolling off your tongue, God, it drove him crazy hearing you like this. "Please, please move your hand," he felt the slight tremor of your thighs, heard the genuine need for him in your voice, saw the unbridled desire in your eyes, how could he deny you of this?
He was relentless with the pace, the pleasure he brought to you with just his hand had you moaning sweet wanton moan after the other. It was almost comical how fast he brought you to an orgasm, you were so so close, you could taste it and he knew. He slowed his ministrations and grinned sadistically at the way your eyes flung open, the way your grip on his shoulders tightened impossibly more. Your head hung low as you attempted to catch your breath. You figured he would pull a stunt like so and you weren't even mad about it.
He lifted his hand to your lips and it took you no time to understand what he wanted, you parted your lips and he shoved them into your mouth, urging you to close and suck with just a fleeting look of his eyes. "Don't wan' you to cum on a wall like this," he kissed an area underneath your ear, "want to bend you over, feel you cum around my cock."
He lifted you with ease and carried you to the desk that you had since forgotten about. He cleared the desk of any objects with one arm, never once removing his gaze from you. The vases from earlier fell to the ground with loud crashes that phased neither of you in the slightest. He laid you on your back and trailed his lips over your entire body, using them to reach and engrave every bit of you in his mind. His cock strained against his boxers painfully, using one hand to palm at himself as he used to other to roll your nipple between his index finger and thumb.
You writhed under him, mewling audibly when you felt the pad of his tongue run over your clit. Your legs instinctually snapped shut, caging the brunette between your heat. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, dragging you down closer to him. He was extra careful, making sure to miss the wound on your midthigh.
"Don't you move, baby," arms tensing to make sure that you stay in place, "Wanna do all the work my damn self," he muttered against the plush of your thighs, kissing and sucking to leave a trail of marks on top of marks. It didn't take long for him to shift all of his attention to your slick cunt, all swollen and pretty for him. Only him.
He started by breaching your entrance with his tongue, then he would lead a strip up your folds, and finally he would latch onto your bundle of nerves and leave you trembling under him from the stimulation. There would be an occasional slap or suckle, everything he did left your mind reeling and chasing after more.
Next time around, he went delved straight for your clit and teasingly delivered a suck, his fingers found purchase inside your heat and fucked in and out of you without a care. You cried out, hips bucking wildly and pleasure induced tears sliding their way down your cheeks. "Fuck! Phillip!" you screamed, white dots of pleasure overtook your vision and you rode out your high blissfully.
Contentment buzzed through every nerve of your body and you watched with hazy eyes as Graves stood again, gently taking your nape into his hold and kissing you softly, pouring every ounce of love into it. You slightly furrowed your brows and broke the kiss first, staring at the man in front of you with nothing but adoration, and just maybe a little lust. Or a lot. "Phillip," you whispered against his lips, voice scratchy and raw from your previous ontake. He met your eyes, mirroring the expression you knew you wore and hummed in response to his name. "Fuck me."
He smiled against you and had no problem heeding your request, he leaned forward and connected your lips once more, making quick work of his fly. His bottoms were gone in an instant, along with his undergarments. He had you flipped over with no time to waste, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance and pushed himself into your warm velvety walls with miniscule patience. You inhaled sharply at the sudden intrusion and dropped your head.
"I know baby, I know," he pressed a kiss to your temple, soothing you to take your mind off of the pain. Graves leaned down and intertwined his hands with yours, staying like that until you gave him the OK to move.
He started with slow, languid thrusts, hitting the deepest spots you wouldn't be able to reach on your lonesome. His balls slapped against your clit with every inward thrust he made, sending electric pleasure up your spine. Gradually his pace began to build. He would plow into you mercilessly, the desk underneath the two of you groaned in protest, but you didn't care. He didn't care. The only thing on his mind was you. Your impossible beauty that stunned every time he laid eyes on you, and God help him, you had no idea just how fucking gorgeous you looked like this, helpless and babbling incoherently noises because the pleasure was too great for you to handle. All for him. All because of him.
Multiple times he would stop to switch your position, molding you into his perfect woman. He took your legs and threw them over his shoulders, making sure to reach every sensitive spot inside of you. He made it is his job to memorize and map out every inch of you, running his hands all over you and watching the way your perfect tits bounced as he fucked into you roughly. Flipping you onto your side, he went back to fucking you slow and rough, watching the way your face contorted in euphoria, just for him.
"Come on baby, come on baby, come on," he hissed, fucking into you harder and faster than he had yet to tonight. "Cum all over me, baby," you were so close, teetering on the edge of orgasm, you just need that extra push.
You fucked yourself back, burying him inside of you to the hilt, eliciting a pleasurable hiss from both parties. His hand squeezed yours tightly and that groaning of the desk got louder as he went harder. You cried out loudly, head dropping as the weight of it became too heavy to hold. You came much harder this time, unable to think any rational thought other than the feeling of Graves' cock overstimulating your poor cunt.
"Fuuuck, do that again, I'm close," he murmured in your ear, followed by several restrained whines from him. "Can I cum in you?" he asked, rushed and breathlessly. Your stomach twisted at his words and you nodded frantically.
You held him inside of you with a vice grip, refusing to let go. His thrusts turned sloppy and he became stiff above you, moans and a storm of expletives pushed past his lips as his hips jerked lazily, rope after rope of his essence filling you to the brim. He stayed like that for a minute, listening to your chest's that rose and fell in tandem.
You expected him to pull out, confusedly opening heavy lids at the beats of silence that passed, until you felt the movement of his hips clashing into yours again.
You gasped, eyes snapping shut as you clawed at the desk. “Phillip, I can’t, I ca—“ you mewled weakly as he plowed into you from behind. “You can, just gimme one more,” he grunted and lifted you up, pressing your back flush against his chest.
Hips bucking wildly, he murmured sweet nothings into your ear while staring lovingly into your eyes. Cry after cry bubbled past your lips as you blinked back tears of unbearable pleasure. “You can do it for me love, one more,” he left an enamoring kiss to your temple, a calloused hand moving down to rub your clit in a circular motion.
This sent you into a whirlpool of newfound pleasure, hand flying up to grab onto the tattooed forearm that wrapped around your neck. He kept up with his ministrations, angling his cock to hit your sweet spot with every chasing stroke.
The tip brushed your cervix, leaving you feigning after the incredible combination of pain and pleasure. “Graves, shit! I’m cumming!” you cried, knees giving in under you. Graves was quick to scoop you up and you latched onto him for support, eyes nearly rolling back as his movements never ceased.
His pace slowed and he delivered slow thrusts, warm liquid painting your walls once more. You panted loudly, fully relying on the support of Graves to keep you upright. A lazy smile pulled at his lips as he admired you from below him. He continued to hold you like so until you both caught your breath.
Eventually, he pulled out, and the feeling of emptiness was almost instantaneous. As he was getting dressed, his eye was hooked on the way his cum slowly began leaking out of you. He finished clasping his belt around his waist and treaded back over to you, leaning down to kiss you as two of his fingers abruptly scooped up his excrements and shoved them back inside of you. Your squeal of surprise was quick to be swallowed by him, though.
You lousily opened your eyes and shot him a half-assed glare, standing up to your full height now. Graves' eyes darted down to the bullet wound and immediately scooped you up and sat you on the desk again. He retrieved his emergency medkit from his tactical vest and kneeled, going to work at your injury. You watched in adoration as he treated you with such gentleness and care, it sent another surge of heat to your core.
Almost as if he could sense it, his eyes glanced up with a sly smile. "Keep lookin' at me like that and we might have to go another round," he said so bluntly, and maybe it would've caught you off guard if you weren't thinking the same thing.
"You're reading my mind," you added absentmindedly, shimmying yourself off of the desk after he finished wrapping you with gauze. He lifted you by the waist once more, placing you down on the desk again. "Phillip," you shot him a look, a bit annoyed now. He handed you a canteen and insisted that you drink it. Deciding that you were relatively thirsty, you downed the water and placed it on the wooden surface next to you.
Graves maneuvered his way between your thighs, placing a hand on the small of your back and rubbing in small, comforting circles. You hummed in content and leaned into his warmth, being put at ease to the sound of his heart.
"I hope you know," you started, "that you ripped my only shirt off. Now I'm gonna have to walk around and show everyone my tits," you joked, Graves squeezed your waist in warning.
"You're gonna wear mine, you hear?"