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Chapter Text

Graves destroyed his office when he got the news. 

A simple operation. In and out. Barely even a week. Graves didn't need to lead it. He trusted his Shadows and sent his best - his closest - to go without him. It's not like he could have gone anyways. He was sick and it would have made things harder so he stayed back. 

How the fuck did Makarov get involved?

It feels like no matter what step Graves takes, where he goes, or what he does Makarov is just there to fuck with him. He doesn't even have beef with the guy! This all started when Makarov took the missiles a few months back but even then, Graves wasn't playing offensive. He was just transporting missiles. Why the fuck is he following Graves' ass around?

Now Makarov has his men. They're all alive. The delivered hard drive showing them bloody and bruised shows that they're all alive. There was a phone number at the end of the little video. Graves has yet to call. 

His knuckles are red and raw from destroying his office. Blood trickles from his bottom lip where he's practically chewed a piece of it off. He picks up his phone, one hand presses flat against his desk, and he calls the number.

It rings once.

"Hello?" Makarov says, voice calm and steady.

"Makarov."

"Ah Commander Graves, a pleasure to hear from you."

"I want to meet." Graves states coldly. He's not going to play his stupid games.

"Meet?"

"Two days from now. My base. Bring my men."

"Shall I bring red or white wine?"

Graves hangs up.

He stands outside the gates of his base when the armoured trucks roll up. The first one's back opens and his Shadows are shoved out of it then made to walk up to Graves. He wants to run to them, check on his boys, but Graves knows he can't. They all give him confused looks but happy smiles. Nobody knows what Graves has planned. The second truck stops and Makarov steps out. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie.

"Commander."

"Me for them."

"Hm?"

"Me. For. Them."

"No greeting? I thought we could talk a little first. I rather enjoy the sound of your voice."

"Me. For. Them." Graves stresses each word.

"Commander no!" One of the captured Shadows - Leo - begins to protest. He tries to fight against his restraints but one of Makarov's men kicks him and he falls to the ground.

Graves doesn't want to do this. Makarov has his men though and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for his boys. If that means dying for them then so be it. Makarov isn't going to keep him around. Graves is useless to him. He'll probably get shot in front of his boys but at least they'll be alive and safe. That's good enough for him.

"You for them?"

"That's what I fucking said."

"Deal." Makarov smiles at him then barks an order in Russian. Leo is pulled up to his feet and the Shadows' restraints are cut. They immediately rush over to Graves and crush him in a group hug. All of them beg him not to go - to stay with them - but he shakes his head.

"Y'all be good to each other."

"He'll kill you." Danny says.

"I want to be buried by my mom. There's plans and a bank account in my house. Everything paid for."

"Please stay."

"I can't."

"As touching as this all is," Makarov seethes almost, "we need to go. So move."

Graves gives them all one last hug goodbye and pulls away. They clutch onto him but soon let go slowly too. He walks over to Makarov. One of the madman's men grabs his arms and pulls them behind Graves' back. Zipties are placed around his wrists and he is shoved towards Makarov. He stumbles and falls to his knees in front of him. Graves stares into those heterochromatic eyes with a stony look. He isn't going to give Makarov the satisfaction of Graves being afraid. His death is not going to be what gets this fucking psycho off tonight.

Makarov grabs him by his hair and pulls Graves up to his feet. He gets pulled into the back of the truck and tears laced with pain threaten to spill but Graves doesn't let them. Instead he smiles at his boys for one last time before Makarov slams the truck door once they're both inside. Graves is thrown onto the floor of the truck and Makarov sits on one of the seats. The driver starts up the engine and they're on the move quickly. Clearly Makarov has no time for the scenic route.

"What? You going to take me to some field and make me dig my own grave?" He spits out from the floor.

"Tempting but no. I'd hate to waste you."

Waste him? What the fuck does that mean?

"I thought you didn't..."

Makarov scoffs, "You're not pretty enough for me to want to fuck you. You'll look nice on my desk though."

Is Graves going to become taxidermy? Will he be stuffed and contorted into some horrifying desk ornament? That seems fucked up even by Makarov's standards. Graves has heard the horror stories of what he does to his enemies but surely taxidermy remains off the cards.

"You're not going to die, Phillip."

"Don't call me that." Being told he isn't going to die is not comforting. Makarov isn't trying to be comforting but it sounds like reassurance. Dying would be kind. It would mean not suffering for long. Whatever Makarov wants him for it's going to last and it is going to be painful. Graves closes his eyes. He's not getting out of this and with the way Makarov is currently digging his boots into his side, there's no point in trying to be fully with his senses. He hasn't slept since setting up the meeting and this might be his last chance at getting any. The pain in his side and the feeling of plastic digging into his wrists soon becomes dull and fades away as he slips into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Makarov pulls Graves up onto his knees. They're still in the fucking car. Jesus Christ. Can't they go any faster? His vision is blurry from having just woken up and Makarov is smiling down at him. 

"Still not pretty enough yet." 

"Pretty enough for what?"

"To fuck." 

"I'm never going to let you fuck me."

"You will." 

"Oh yeah?" 

Makarov reaches into his pocket, "Leo was his name right? The one who begged you to stay."

"What are you doing?"

"You like him alive?"

"Yes." What the fuck is he planning? They made a deal. Graves for them. 

He pulls a tube of lipstick out, "Then you'll let me put this on you and you'll suck my cock." Makarov untwists the cap and rolls up the lipstick. He grabs Graves' hair with his left hand and uses the right to put the lipstick on him. 

Graves fights back. He moves his head around as much as possible despite Makarov pulling his hair and even manages to bite a chunk off it. Graves spits it out onto Makarov's leg. He gives him a triumphant look but Makarov just smiles back. 

Makarov pulls his hair and talks in a sickly sweet tone, "Be good and let me put it on. You don't want to know what the punishment will be."

"Try me."

He reaches into his pocket again and pulls out a taser. Makarov pushes on the button and electricity flashes. It lights up his blue eye like lightning lights up a storm. "Still want to be tried?"

Graves stops struggling. He doesn't make it easy for Makarov by pursing his lips but his captor doesn't seem to mind. Makarov gently paints his lips the bright red colour then pats Graves on the head for being still. He pulls out his cock with ease and it soon gets hard in his hand as he drinks in Graves. 

"So you're one of those freaks who likes guys dolled up?" 

"You'll learn to like it too. I'll have you begging for me to put makeup on you to get it ruined by me."

"Yeah fucking right. I'd rather - " Graves gets cut off by Makarov forcing his head down onto his cock. He instinctively bites on the foreign object. 

Makarov lets out a yell. He pulls Graves off his cock then grabs the taser. The taser is thrust against his neck and volts of electricity are forced through his body. Graves convulses and coughs heavily like his lungs are threatening to stop working. Tears flow down his cheeks and Makarov looks very satisfied with the results. 

"I didn't fucking mean to!" Graves manages to spit out. 

"Oh really? You didn't enjoy biting my dick?" 

"Well...." Now that Graves is over the initial fear and has been tasered, biting Makarov's dick was pretty good. He might do it again. 

Makarov slaps him, "Suck or I'll let my men who hung back rip your little Shadows to shreds."

Graves starts off slowly, only taking in the first few inches as he starts sucking. His boys are on the line now. He won't let anything happen to them even if he wants to fight back as much as humanly possible. There is the chance that Makarov is lying about having men back at Graves' base but he isn't about to risk it. 

Makarov he pulls Graves' head further onto his cock after a few minutes, clearly getting bored of Graves' half-assed blowjob. He gags and struggles but keeps sucking. It's hard to breathe but Graves needs to please him. He needs to keep his Shadows safe. Lipstick is smearing across Makarov's cock and he starts to coo at Graves in Russian. He isn't sure what's being said and Graves isn't sure if he wants to know. 

As Graves starts to feel faint from the lack of oxygen, his head gets pulled off of Makarov's cock and Graves takes in deep breaths. 

"Is there a safeword?"

"Do you think you can talk down there? Get back to it." 

It's not long before he's being forced back down. Graves sucks quickly to try and get this over with as fast as possible. Makarov doesn't seem to mind as he starts to grip onto Graves' hair and quietly mumble to himself in breathy Russian. 

Makarov holds Graves' head between his thighs as he starts fucking Graves' throat. Graves gags and chokes but doesn't make any attempt to stop him. Just a few more minutes. Pre-cum is painting his tongue and it's obvious from the way Makarov is more using his mouth than he is letting Graves suck that the man is getting close. 

He pulls his cock out of Graves' mouth. Makarov jerks himself off, his cock covered in a mixture of pre-cum, lipstick, and spit. He cums streaks over Graves' face. Graves closes his eyes and just lets it happen. It coats his lips and cheeks. Some even ends up on his forehead. A rag is thrown at his face and slides off his face onto the floor. 

"My hands are tied, dumbass." 

To his surprise, Makarov picks up the rag and wipes his face clean. He reapplies Graves' lipstick then guides Graves to rest against his legs. 

"Black or red?"

"Huh?"

"Black or red?"

"Does it fucking matter?"

"Pick or I will."

"Black." 

"Your safeword." 

He's getting a safeword. That's awfully considerate. Weirdly considerate. Graves looks up at him, "Didn't think you cared."

"My wife needs to be kept happy." 

"I'm not your wife."

"You will be soon. You'll come right to me when I call you that." 

"You're insane. I hope Captain Price - " The taser makes a return and Graves cries out in pain. He pants and shudders slightly from the shock then manages to get out, "What the fuck?"

"You will not mention a single member of that stupid little task force." 

"You could've said that sooner!" 

Makarov stuffs the rag into Graves' mouth, "Shut up."

Graves spits it out, "Bitch."

He clicks the taser near Graves who flinches away. "Apologise." 

"No."

"Princess, apologise."

"Go fuck yourself." 

Another jolt. This one somehow hurts even more than the last ones. Graves falls down onto the floor of the truck. He convulses and twitches. Makarov bangs his fist against the glass separating them from the driver. The car stops. Makarov hauls Graves up.

"Speak."

"Fuck you." Graves hisses out.

He squints then drops him again. A yell of Russian and they're moving again. Why the fuck did he stop the car? Graves imagines that Makarov doesn't want to break his new toy already. Would he have been taken to a hospital? Probably not. Makarov seems like he has a private healthcare team or some stupid shit. 

The car stops again after what feels like hours. It's only when the door opens that Graves realises it's most likely the middle of the night. Where the fuck is he? Makarov pulls him to his feet and pushes him out of the truck. It's a large stately home crawling with Makarov's men. He wraps an arm around Graves' waist. 

"Come on princess. You must be tired still."

"Stop calling me that."

"No. That's your name now." 

"Black." Graves can't take standing up. He sways on his feet. 

"Excuse me?"

"Black. I need water." 

Makarov just starts pulling him into the house. Graves isn't sure why he thought that would magically make Makarov be a complete sweetheart with him. Wishful thinking. 

He hopes his boys are alright. Graves needs them to be alright. They'll probably forget about him. Put in a new leader after voting amongst themselves. That's okay with him. As along they're happy. Graves would go through another fifty rounds with that damn taser if it meant his boys are safe and happy. 

Makarov drags him up the stairs and to the master bedroom. There's a four poster bed with dark sheets. It's all Graves can really focus on right now. The rest of the bedroom seems to be dark in colours. Graves gets shoved against the foot of the bed and he falls. At least the sheets are soft. Fuck, he wishes the safeword did something. It's probably just a facade. Make it seem like Graves can end anything that happens to him but in reality nothing will be stopped. That sounds far more like Makarov than anything else. 

The zipties are cut off his wrists. Graves doesn't quite have the strength to look at Makarov but he's soon pulled up to kneel, most of his weight being supported by the bed. Yew wood. The bed frame is made of yew wood. A bottle is thrust to his lips. 

"Drink."

Graves does his best but most of it spills onto the floor. Judging by the noise, the floor is also wood. "Straw."

A straw is added. Graves manages to drink through it. Makarov takes the bottle away and he lifts Graves up onto the bed. 

"Sleep."

"What else am I going to do? Sculpt?"

"Stop being a little bitch."

"Go to hell." 

Chapter Text

Graves feels like his lungs are being crushed. He wakes up and tries to move. Makarov has gotten into bed at some point and he is crushing Graves with his arms. Graves continues to fight and try to get out of his hold. Somehow Makarov's grip gets tighter. 

"Stop moving." Makarov whispers into his ear. 

"You're hurting me."

"Deserve it for being a brat."

"No really." Graves starts to cough. "I can't fucking breathe."

Makarov loosens his hold and Graves sucks in a deep breath. He's still in his usual tactical stuff so there's a lot of weight on him. Graves looks back at Makarov and realises he's shirtless. He scowls and slides out of bed. 

"Get back in bed."

"Can I take off the fucking tac vest?" 

"Take it all off." 

"No." Graves gets off the tac vest. He takes off his boots, socks, and belt as well then sits on the bed.

Makarov pulls him to lay down against him, "Take it off." 

He shimmies out of his jeans, "You never specified what."

Makarov looks down at Graves' crotch. Graves covers it with one hand. "Let me see. You're my wife. Act like it."

"I'm not your wife."

"You will be soon." 

"Can't you just shoot me or something?" Dying would honestly be better than this shit. 

"No. Are you hungry?"

"I guess." 

He grabs Graves' chin, "Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Makarov gets out of bed. He is just in his boxers. Graves doesn't really care for the view as Makarov pulls on some clothes then leaves the bedroom. There's no point in trying to run but he could still try. Makarov might kill him for it but whatever. He never said Makarov would keep him in exchange for his boys. Just that he got to have Graves for an undetermined amount of time. Asshole should've been more clear. 

They're on the second floor and there's a balcony overlooking the garden. Behind the garden is just empty fields. Great. Nowhere to hide and nowhere to run to. Still he could try getting out and playing the waiting game. Get a car and floor it. He opens up the latch on the balcony door and steps out. The guards below are unaware of him for now. However there is a trellis covered in thick foliage then. Graves would put on his jeans and shoes but he doesn't have enough time.

He shuts the door behind himself then climbs onto the wall of the balcony. Graves grabs onto the trellis with his right hand then hooks his right foot into a suitable place. He pulls the rest of his body over then begins to climb down. Graves makes it to just under the balcony, hidden underneath its stone floor with thorns cutting his hands, when he hears the bedroom door open. 

"Princess?" 

Shit. 

He moves to where he can be seen by Makarov. This probably won't work but he can try. 

"Little help?" 

Makarov looks over the balcony at him, "Are you trying to escape?"

"Who tries to escape without their pants and shoes?" 

"How did you fall?"

"I slipped." 

"Over the wall?"

This definitely isn't working. "If you had taken a little longer doing whatever than I probably could have gotten further." 

"Climb up."

Graves climbs back up. Makarov pulls him over the wall and looks at his hands. They're cut but not bleeding too badly. He gets dragged back into the bedroom. 

"Do I still get breakfast?"

Makarov pulls him over to a small table then pushes him to sit. He sits next to him and picks up a pistol from the table, "Eat."

Graves looks at his plate. Pancakes with strawberries and maple syrup. His favourite. How the fuck does Makarov know that? 

"How?"

"Not all of your Shadows are in your shape." He smiles slowly. 

"What?" 

"How else would I know where you are and what you're doing?" 

"No. My boys are loyal to me! They would never go against the Company!" Graves gets up. 

"Money talks." He grins. "Mine was just louder so to speak."

Graves pushes the plate off the table. There's another door that doesn't lead out to the hall so he makes a run for it. Makarov sits there in near shock and just misses grabbing his arm. Inside is a bathroom and he quickly locks the door.

His Shadows betrayed him. 

His boys. 

He has given everything to his boys. Graves has spent nights staying awake with them when they have nightmares. He has done his damn best to keep them safe when they're in danger. Graves has given them blood, sweat, and tears. They betrayed him for money. 

"Phillip?" Makarov calls out from the other side. "Open the door."

"Who?" He slides down against the door.

"What is the point?"

"Names you cunt. Names."

"No."

Graves slams his fist against the door, "I want names!" 

"Will you come out if I give you names?" 

"Sure." 

"Lewis. Christian." He unlocks the door. Makarov pulls it open. "Get up. I have clothes for you that you will wear." 

Graves gets up. He can feel the fight slowly leaving his body. What's the point? Every fucking screw up that's happened over the past months where Makarov has ruined things. Every fucking time Graves has beat himself up over it because his Shadows got unnecessarily hurt. All of it has been because two of them decided money was more important. Graves paid them well! They always got a fair cut. He has never once fucked them over intentionally and they pay him back like this? 

Makarov pulls him over to the bed. There's a pink dress and white six inch heels. Does Makarov serious expect him to wear this? Graves strips down to his boxers and goes to put on the dress but Makarov stops him. 

"Underwear off."

"I'm not going commando in a dress."

"Why not?" Makarov pushes the cold metal barrel of the gun against his dick, "I want access to that cute little cock of yours."

"It's not little."

"Smaller than mine." 

"Suck my dick." 

"I plan to. Now take off your underwear or I'll blow your dick off."

"No."

He clicks off the safety, "You are already testing my patience. Do not push me further." 

Graves takes off his underwear. He slips on the dress as tears slip down his face. The heels go on as well. Makarov makes no effort to wipe away his tears. Instead he walks over to a vanity set and picks up a pink gloss. He walks over and applies it to Graves' lips. Makarov smiles and wraps an arm around Graves' waist then leads him out of the bedroom. 

Everything sort of blurs together as the tears keep falling. All Graves can hear is the distinct sound of heels against wood. Makarov is talking but he's not listening. Nothing matters. Betrayed by the people he cares for most. The people he would do anything for. 

He gets taken into some office space. What use does Makarov have for an office? Graves supposes he has to conduct his business somewhere. The desk has been extended outwards to include an empty space. When Graves doesn't sit on it, Makarov picks him and makes him sit. 

"Your new job."

"Sitting?"

"Sitting and looking pretty." Makarov forcefully kisses him, "Just sit there. That's all."

"No work?" Graves honestly thought he'd be worked like a dog. 

"You're my wife. The only work you'll do is housework and servicing me." 

"I have to clean up after you and your fucking men?"

"No. They'll leave soon. Just you and me, I promise." Makarov goes behind his desk and starts working or whatever. Graves isn't sure how much worth he can place into a promise like that or any promise from Makarov. 

He kicks off the heels after about an hour. Makarov has been working in complete silence. Even though he's not walking in them, they're starting to hurt his feet. They clatter to the floor and Makarov looks up at him. 

"Put them back on."

"No."

"Phillip."

"You're going to fuck my feet up." 

"Hm?" 

Graves gets up and picks up the heels. "If you wear them too long you can fuck up your feet." 

"I will get you more shoes. Put those back on."

"If it hurts to walk, I expect to be carried." Graves puts them on and sits again. He'd rather cut out his own tongue than have Makarov carry him but he also doesn't want to walk in heels.

"Why do you know that?"

"Know what?"

"That heels hurt."

"Not the first guy to put me in them, Makarov." 

"Who?"

Graves ignores him. 

"Who?" He demands. 

"Shit do you have an owl in here or something?" Graves starts looking around for the imaginary owl. 

Makarov gets up and walks behind Graves. He pulls his head back by his hair and makes Graves look him in the eyes. "Name."

"Phillip Graves."

"Give me the name of the man who has seen you dolled up." 

"Jackson Riley."

"Are you lying?"

"No. I still have his number actually." 

"Why?"

"Because I have needs?" 

"What else did he put you in?"

"Just heels. Think he has a foot thing." 

"No makeup, no clothes?"

"Just heels. Your men have seen me in this though. Gonna take out your rage on them?"

"I am going to kill him."

"Sure and then you get people looking for his killer and then they learn that I'm missing. My daddy's CIA and he will not be happy his baby boy is missing." 

"Who is your father?"

"Russel Adler."

Makarov pulls him into another forceful kiss, "I'm your daddy now. Your father will not take you from me."

"Are you going to hurt him?"

"Do you care for him?"

"Yes."

"Then as long as you behave, your father will be fine." 

"Can you let go now? You're sort of ugly."

Makarov slaps him, "Be nice." 

Graves' cock twitches. "No." 

He slaps Graves' other cheek and Graves holds in a whine. His arousal might be showing anyways as Makarov grins, "Do you like that?"

"Little bit."

"Do you want more?" Makarov looks far too eager to hit him.

"No." 

Makarov lets go and returns to his desk. Graves starts kicking his feet as he sits in silence with Makarov. Telling him that his dad works in the CIA probably wasn't a good idea. However if Makarov knows that people will be looking for Graves, his chances of survival go up. Killing the son of a respected CIA agent is just asking for trouble. His dad will probably catch wind soon. Someone is going to be looking for him. 

Chapter Text

Makarov takes Graves down to the kitchen. There aren't any soldiers here anymore and Makarov almost makes a point of showing him that. Makarov still has a pistol on him so Graves can't run. Not that he would want to now anyways. His Shadows that are still loyal to him and his father are on the line.

"Go on." Makarov sits at the kitchen island with the gun on the counter. 

"What do you want to eat?" Graves seethes out. 

"Surprise me." Makarov grins at him like this is some romantic moment. 

Graves finds some bread, butter, and cheese. He finds a pan and uses a bit of the butter to cover the flat of the pan. Graves starts making Makarov a grilled cheese. This absolutely isn't what he wants but he said to surprise him. He finds a plate once it's done and slides it onto the plate then cuts it diagonally. Graves finds a pot and a can of tomato soup. He heats it up and adds some basil to it before pouring half of it into a bowl. With a big smile, Graves serves it to Makarov. 

"There. Lunch." 

"What the fuck is this?" 

"A grilled cheese and tomato soup. An American classic." 

"This isn't what I wanted."

Graves leans over the counter and says with a sweet venomous voice, "You said to surprise you." 

Makarov picks up one half of the sandwich and dips it into the soup. He takes a bite and looks slightly surprised, "This is good. Thank you dear."

"Not your dear." Graves starts making himself a grilled cheese and he pours the rest of the soup into a bowl for himself. 

"Phillip, I'd hate to use this on you. Be nice to me." 

"Don't call me Phillip."

"That's your name."

"Only my dad calls me Phillip." 

"Phil then?"

"Graves." 

"Very well." 

Graves brings his lunch over and squints at him, "You're being nice to me. Why?"

"Because you're my wife. What is the phrase Americans use? Happy wife, happy life." Makarov smiles at him like he's proud of himself. 

"Whatever. Do I get to have my phone?"

"Only with my direct supervision."

"Okay."

"You are free to use the television whenever you want to."

"What if I want to watch a specific movie?"

"I will buy you a tablet and you may have chosen access to the internet and a set screen time."

"Am I a six year old?"

"You act like a bratty child."

"Rude."

"But fair, no?"

It is fair. He is being a complete fucking brat. "What's my screen time?"

"Three hours. You may have access to streaming apps and some websites."

"Can I watch porn?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I am the only one who is allowed to satisfy you. The only thing that will help you get off are the toys I buy you and thoughts of me."

"So no thinking about that hot guard I saw? I bet his name is real fun to moan in bed." 

Makarov gets up. He walks over to Graves and bends him over the counter. A cold draft brushes Graves' ass as the skirt of his dress is lifted up roughly like he's nothing more than a cheap whore to Makarov. What is he doing?

Thwack. 

He brings his hand down hard on Graves' ass. Makarov just spanked him. Graves whimpers and goes to get up but the gun is pushed against his temple. Makarov clicks the safety off, "Four more."

"I'm sorry." Graves says. 

Makarov ignores his apology and brings his hand down again. Graves yelps but stays still as the cold tip of the gun digs in. 

Another whack and whimper. Graves' feels the blood rushing to his cock as Makarov spanks him. God it feels so good. He shouldn't like it and he wishes his body wasn't betraying him right now. If Makarov realises then it's just going to fuel his sick fucking mind and make him think Graves wants this. 

He'd be half right. 

The third slap comes down and Graves' bucks his hips. He can see Makarov in his peripheral vision and the slow smirk of understanding that's stretching across his face. Fuck. 

"Enjoying this are you? You like being punished, don't you?"

"Go to hell."

Makarov strikes his ass harder. Graves cries out and a single tear slips down his face. He bites on his bottom lip hard. Graves doesn't care if he makes himself bleed but he is not feeding any idea that man has about him wanting to be punished. 

"So pretty when you cry princess. I have such a cute little wife. Such a naughty girl."

Graves doesn't respond. The final one comes and somehow it hurts even more than the last one. Blood trickles down from his lip as he bites down to stop himself from crying out. Makarov moves the gun from his head. Soon the cold metal of the gun in being pressed against his aching hard cock. 

"So cute." Makarov almost coos at him. 

"I don't like this." Graves isn't sure who he is trying to convince at this point.

"Your mouth says one thing yet the rest of your body says another." The gun is slowly dragged up the length of his cock then across his inner thigh. Then across his right cheek which he's almost certain is now sporting a red mark in the shape of Makarov's hand. He whines at the feeling of the cold gun against red skin but soon Makarov drags the gun away. 

The barrel of the gun is pressed between his cheeks and slightly pushed in. Graves lets out a little gasp of surprise. 

Is Makarov going to shoot him?

"Should I fuck you with the gun? Make you cum from me shoving this up your ass?" 

"No."

"Would you prefer my cock? I bet you want to be filled up by me, don't you? Want me to make you mine?" His voice is honey sweet but there's that possessive growl underneath it which is making Graves feel dizzy. 

Graves starts to grind against the counter. There's not a lot of friction - certainly not enough to get him off entirely like this - but he's getting impatient now. Either Makarov is going to fuck him or he's not. He wants to cum and he doesn't particularly care if Makarov gets involved or not. 

"So impatient. Can't even wait a minute." Makarov tuts. He wraps a hand around Graves' cock, "Go on then. Fuck my hand." 

Graves starts to buck his hips and begins fucking Makarov's hand. The friction is so good against his cock even if it's starting to hurt from the lack of lubricant. He whines and moans with every brush of his cock against Makarov's fingers. 

"Daddy..." Graves stutters out in a whisper. He closes his eyes tight and keeps going. Pain mixes with pleasure as he uses the rough hand provided to bring himself to euphoria. 

Makarov runs his free hand through Graves' hair, "Good girl. Just like that." 

He ignores Makarov's voice and imagines someone else touching him like this. Graves conjures up his dream guy and thinks about this faceless creation being the one who is praising him. He imagines its hand instead of Makarov's as he grinds and fucks the tight space Makarov has made with his fist. His mind is getting fuzzy as Makarov coos at him quietly about he's such a good girl and how he wants Graves to paint his hand. It's making this whole thing so much sweeter and Graves despises how much he likes being told he's a good girl. Graves lets himself slip into submission as he whimpers and thrusts. 

"Close." Graves chokes out as pre-cum leaks from his cock. He's so fucking close. Makarov starts moving his hand, roughly jerking Graves off as Graves' thrusts become hurried and irregular. He chases the orgasm and shoots his load all over Makarov's hand with a cry. 

Makarov takes away his hand and the loss of contact makes Graves whine again. He licks up the streaks of cum off his fingers then smiles at Graves, "I don't have any work this afternoon. How about we watch a movie?" 

Graves just nods and slowly gets up. His mind still feels fuzzy and the pain of being spanked is dull now. Makarov seems to take pity on him as he helps Graves to the couch. He turns on the TV and props Graves against him once they're on the couch. Graves buries his face in Makarov's side. He hates himself for it, wants to scream at himself in the mirror, but he needs contact and affection. Makarov doesn't seem to either care or understand this but he doesn't move Graves. 

He feels cheap. Is this how it will always feel? All of that praise and being called good just feels like it was all empty words. Something to get Graves to do what Makarov wanted and nothing. Tears bead in his eyes as self-hatred begins to devour him throughout the movie. 

Makarov never looks at him once. 

Chapter Text

Graves makes them dinner. It's a ceaser salad. He doesn't bite back at Makarov when he calls him a good wife. Graves simply eats quietly and keeps his eyes on the plate in front of him. There are raw tomatoes in the salad. He hates them but still pierces them onto his fork and eats them.

Makarov takes him to bed. He presses kisses down Graves' throat and whispers to him, "How about I fuck your pretty body?"

He just nods and strips like he's removing his uniform. There's no teasing or bratty behaviour. Graves gets on the bed and spreads his legs, arching his back enough to give Makarov better access to his body. If he's just a cheap whore to Makarov then why put up a fight or make him work for it?

"You did good earlier." Makarov says as he finds the lube. He's been saying that a lot since going on his phone in the afternoon. Graves assumed his furious typing was because of something going wrong.

"Just hurry up."

"You're going to do good now. You're so beautiful."

Graves sighs and closes his eyes.

"What's wrong Graves? Look at me."

He opens his eyes, "Just stop mocking me and use me already."

"I'm not mocking you." Makarov forces Graves' legs together as he gets on the bed. "I am trying to give you aftercare."

Graves scoffs, "Is that what you're doing?"

"You're such a little bitch. Why do I bother?" Makarov throws the bottle of lube across the room then gets into bed properly. He faces away from Graves who just turns his back as well. Graves will take a lot of shit but he isn't going to be brought into such a vulnerable headspace then mocked. Makarov can find someone else if he wants that.

Graves wakes up in bed alone. There's a note laying where Makarov had been. He decides to open it.

I have to attend to things. There are guards and I have confiscated your phone. Don't try to escape - M

He balls up the note and throws it across the room. Graves isn't even going to bother leaving the room much less make an escape attempt.

There's a knock on the door after about an hour. Graves doesn't move a muscle. He does call out that he's unfortunately still alive. There's footsteps then silence again. Welfare checks. Cute.

Another knock around midday. Graves thinks it's midday. He lifts up his head just enough to look at a clock in the room. It's one in the afternoon. Close enough.

"Sir?" The guard calls through the door.

"I'm not dead or bleeding."

"You need to eat something."

"Not hungry."

"Mister Makarov - "

"I don't give a fuck what that little Russian bitch does or does not want. He should consider himself lucky I haven't offed myself."

"Sir - "

"If he wants me to eat then he can come here and shove it down my throat."

There's no response to that. Just footsteps fading away and silence again. The sympathetic part of Graves feels bad for snapping at some guy just trying to do his job but the far larger petty part of Graves reminds him that this guy works for Makarov. All sympathy for him is soon snuffed out.

There's another knock on the door around four in the afternoon.

"Still alive, still not bleeding, still not going to eat."

"Mister Makarov wants you to know he won't be back until tomorrow."

"I hope he dies."

"He also says you can order whatever food you like."

"I'm not eating. You order yourself something sweetheart. Enjoy yourself."

"Sweetheart?" The guard repeats in a shocked voice.

"I don't know your name and I don't want to so I'm going to call you that. What? You prefer baby?"

"Sweetheart is fine." He manages to get out.

"You're cute. You go eat whatever you want. Just tell the big boss I ate."

"If I lie to him, I'm a dead man."

"If he finds out I'm flirting with you, we'll both be dead."

"Please will you eat something?"

"Alright. You pick though."

"Yes sir." He leaves and Graves smiles to himself. Flirting with this random guard is definitely a bad idea but what Makarov doesn't know about won't hurt him. It's just a little bit of fun for Graves.

He's starting to miss 'Sweetheart' now. Obviously they can't get delivery as that means giving away their location so he has to drive. What will he pick? Graves hopes it's good. Maybe he'll discover some secret, rare allergy he has and die. That would be nice but nice things don't happen to Phillip Graves.

There's a knock again finally. Graves gets up and answers the door. A guard dressed in black gear is standing there with a pizza box and a thicker but smaller white box. Brown eyes trail down Graves' naked body. He seems to catch himself though and before he looks at Graves' cock, his eyes snap up.

"Dinner." He hands over the box with shaking hands. "Your tablet too." The guard hands over the smaller white box.

"Thank you sweetheart. You get yourself something nice?"

"Yes sir."

"How about dessert?" Graves slowly smiles as he watches the other's face go red. "Have a good night." He shuts the door in his face then returns to the bed.

Graves is not supposed to have the tablet already but nobody needs to know that. He turns it on and sets it up easily. There's a sticky note on the side with the WiFi password. This was definitely supposed to be a gift tomorrow and not right now. It hardly matters. He's not in the mood for porn and he doesn't have his phone so he can't use the tablet to contact anyone. Graves finds a documentary online to watch as he eats. It's a plain cheese pizza. Basic but a classic. Also something Graves is likely to eat. There's no way that guy knows his eating habits.

He has a pretty good evening all things considered. Makarov and the possible consequences of tomorrow melt away as he eats and watches different documentaries. What would life be like for him had he chosen a different path? Maybe he would be in a similar position to this, happily watching TV and eating something greasy, but without the fear of something happening to his loved ones hanging over his head like the sword of Damocles. Perhaps he would have a loving partner who knows just how to hold him and make him feel loved without it feeling mocking.

Maybe Phillip Graves would be content with life.

He falls asleep late at night. His eyes barely able to stay open as the man narrating the path a sea turtle takes talks of the beauty of its freedom in the wild.

The sound of the bedroom door opening is what wakes him. His new tablet has switched itself off, most likely from a dead battery, and the empty box is still on the bed next to him. Graves uncurls himself and lifts his head to see Makarov standing there.

Makarov has a large bouquet of pink and red roses wrapped in blue paper with string holding it all together. There's a soft smile on his face and adoration in his eyes like he's seeing something beautiful for the first time. If Graves could believe in it, he'd think it was real.

"You have your tablet early." Makarov mutters more to himself than anything else. He picks it up and attempts to turn it on. "Late night?" His smile becomes a faint grin at his own little joke.

"Mhm. Who are the flowers for?"

"You." He sets them on the bed. "I am not mocking you, princess, when I am giving you aftercare. It is foreign to me. Not something I have given or received before."

"If you say sorry I'll forgive you."

"I do not say that word."

"Then you're not forgiven." Graves pulls one of the red roses out of the bouquet. When was the last time someone brought him flowers? Far too long. There's a dull ache in his heart as he spins the stem of such a beautiful flower between his forefinger and thumb. Makarov is the first man in a long time to buy him flowers. That's pathetic.

Maybe he isn't worth flowers.

"Would you like breakfast?"

"No."

"Princess I don't enjoy this game of starvation you play."

"I thought it was my job to make breakfast anyways."

"Not when you are like this. Sometimes the king must serve the needs of the princess."

"I see your ego wasn't killed. Pity. I'd have loved the news either it or you were dead."

Makarov cups Graves' cheek and runs his thumb along his scar, "Can't be rid of me so easily. I still need to make you my wife."

"What am I now then? Just a living sex toy that cooks for you?"

"I was going to say girlfriend but whatever works for you is fine."

Chapter Text

Makarov makes him dress and takes him to his office. Graves sits where he'd supposed to and spies a paper file on Makarov's desk. 

"What's that?"

"A report of yesterday. I know you didn't eat but it's of anything else that may have happened." Makarov looks at him, "Did something else happen?"

"No." 

"Then it will just say you didn't eat." 

Graves hopes the guard he called sweetheart was the one to write it up. Although he doesn't care about the guy, he doesn't exactly want to get into trouble with Makarov for having a little fun. Makarov opens the report and reads it before closing it again. 

"You didn't eat until dinner. Why?" 

Definitely didn't have the flirting reported then. "I wasn't hungry."

"Wasn't hungry?" He scoffs. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Makarov gets up and he walks behind Graves. Before Graves can attempt to make any move, Makarov grabs him by the back of his hair and yanks his head back. "Why did you not eat?"

"Why do you care?"

"My wife needs to be healthy."

"I didn't feel good so I didn't eat." 

"Are you sick?" 

"No." 

"Is it because of me?"

"Yes."

Makarov lets go of him, "Come with me." He walks over to the door of his office and waits. Graves gets up and heads over to him. Makarov wraps an arm around his waist and leads him out. 

They don't walk far. Just next to the office. Makarov opens the door and pushes Graves in. It's a hobby room. There's a piano in one corner, a guitar on the wall, and the other side of the room holds art supplies. The walls are plain white but Graves imagines that he can also choose to paint over them however he wishes. It's nice. The floor is a light wood and there are large french windows looking over the garden. 

"I spoke to your disobedient Shadows before disposing of them. You like music and art." It's a statement not a question. A harsh reminder as well that Makarov knows Graves on a near intimate level despite them never having one real conversation about themselves. 

"I do. My dad made me do it." 

"Why?"

"He wanted me to be well rounded and it meant he didn't have to pick me up after school right away." 

Makarov digs his fingers into Graves' waist, "Did he neglect you?" 

"No he just worked late a lot. He didn't trust babysitters." 

"Where was your mother?" 

Graves steps away from him, "Do you want me to play you something on the piano?" He walks over to it and sits at the little bench. 

Makarov joins him and sits next to him. Graves lifts up the wooden cover and plays a simple scale. Makarov copies him. He starts playing a basic melody with just his right hand but Makarov just sits there and watches him. Graves brings in his left hand and starts playing the lower keys to add to the melody. 

"You're very good." Makarov says quietly. 

He looks at Makarov as he talks, "Thank you. Years of practice but it's been a while." Showing off like this is silly but it's been a long time since he's played for someone. The last time was an old boyfriend of his who had a piano. 

"Our children will have such an excellent teacher for the piano then."

Graves plays the wrong key and he flinches at the harsh sound. Children? What the fuck is Makarov talking about? He can't give Makarov children! "Kids?"

"Not yet, my love. In the future. We'll adopt."

"How many?"

"How many do you want?" Makarov smiles brightly at him. "I want at least one son." 

"This is a lot."

"We can discuss it later. You haven't eaten anything today so it must be difficult to process on an empty stomach. Come." He gets up. 

"Can I stay here?"

"I don't want in here to get messy."

"Please?" Graves makes his eyes big and wide. 

"Very well. I'll be back soon." He kisses Graves on the forehead then leaves. 

Graves goes back to playing. He plays a lullaby his mother used to sing for him. There's a recording of it on his phone his mother made before she passed. He hopes Makarov hasn't been messing with it. If Graves lost that recording then he's not sure what he would do with himself. He lets himself get lost in the music like he did as a child. 

A tap on the shoulder breaks him out of his stupor. He looks up to see Makarov standing there with two little plates that have some sort of wrap on them. Makarov tugs him onto his feet and leads him over to a desk where the art supplies are. They sit and Makarov hands him one of the plates.

"I'm not a cook."

"Isn't that why you took me?" 

"Among other reasons." 

"Right you need someone to iron your suits and give you a kiss on the cheek good luck before you go massacre people." 

"You think too lowly of yourself princess."

"You think too highly of yourself. Consider me your balance." Graves picks up a wrap and bites into it. He spits it out onto the plate. 

Makarov scowls, "It's not that bad."

"Did you dunk this in salt?" 

"No." 

"Jesus Christ it feels like I just chugged a salt shaker." Graves gets up and leaves the room with the plate. He heads down to the kitchen.

The guard from yesterday is in the kitchen. He's looking at whatever Makarov made and grimacing. It's not just Graves then. Graves quietly throws away his lunch then starts making himself something quick and easy. Unfortunately the guard notices him, it's hard not too with his heels clicking against the ground, and looks at him. He has a warm blush on his face as he takes in the sight of Graves. 

"Hello again." 

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

"I'll be gone soon, sir. Just waiting for new orders." 

"Alright." Graves goes back to cooking. Flirting whilst Makarov is in the house and could come in at any moment is a horrific idea. He might enjoy being a brat but even that is too far. 

"You look pretty, sir. I like your skirt." 

Graves looks down at the little white skirt Makarov put him in. He's not wearing underwear again. Makarov likes having full access. Can this guy see that? The skirt covers him but it is white. "Thank you." 

Makarov comes into the kitchen soon after. He barks something in Russian at the guard who leaves. His knuckles brush against Graves' ass as he leaves though but Graves doesn't react. Pervert. Makarov doesn't notice it and sidles up to Graves, wrapping his arms around Graves' waist as he cooks.

"You don't like my cooking?" Makarov asks with a pout. 

"It's awful. A dog could do better."

He laughs and kisses Graves' neck, "I prefer your cooking too." 

"Will we be alone for now on?"

"I have one more little thing tomorrow then just us." 

"Alright." Graves pours his pasta into a bowl after draining it and adding some cheese then finds a fork. He eats with Makarov holding him. It's almost nice. Graves closes his eyes and thinks of another man to try and make himself feel better. His mind conjures up the guard but he shoves that image aside in favour of a faceless man. 

Makarov's hands soon begin to wander from Graves' waist down. He lifts up Graves' skirt and starts squeezing his ass. "Bend over."

"I'm eating."

"Bend. Over." Makarov grinds his crotch against Graves' ass. Somehow he's already hard. What kind of libido does this man have?

Graves bends over and grabs onto the marble countertop with one hand. "Go ahead." With his free hand, Graves feeds himself pasta. He's not wasting his lunch. 

"I'll have to use oil."

"Great way to treat your wife. Pouring olive oil in my ass."

"Stop complaining." Makarov does use oil from the side. Graves hears the cap pop off onto the floor. He eats his pasta as Makarov prepares his fingers. His legs are spread a little further before a splash of oil is poured into him. One finger slips in and Graves lets out a whine then another swiftly joins it. He moans as Makarov moves his fingers deeper inside of him. They're pulled out quickly and are quickly replaced by his cock.

He doesn't waste any time with gentle thrusts. Makarov starts pounding into his ass. Graves drops his fork as he slightly readjusts his body in order to be able to take it better. The drawers slam as Graves' body hits them with every harsh thrust from Makarov. Graves whimpers and moans loudly, desperately trying to grip onto the flat counter. Makarov seems to pity his predicament as he grips onto Graves' hips to help steady him. 

"You're such a good girl. So fucking pretty as you take my cock." 

Graves whimpers and nods his head, "There daddy! Right there!" His head is getting fuzzy. God, how he hates loving when Makarov uses him like this. 

Makarov keeps hitting that spot as he thrusts nice and deep into Graves. He starts biting Graves' shoulder blades and back, muttering words of filth. It's all about how he's such a good little sex toy for Makarov. How he picked the perfect little wife for himself. Graves rests his head on cold countertop, the left side of his head pressed against the marble. He closes his eyes and lets Makarov use him. 

"My perfect wife."

"Daddy! Daddy!" Graves cries out for him as he cums. His partner keeps destroying his hole and all that comes out of Graves' mouth are broken whimpers and moans. 

"Just a little more princess. You're such a good little whore."

Drool dribbles from Graves' mouth as he slips into submission. All he can focus on is Makarov's filthy praise. He nods dumbly and mumbles back, "So good for daddy." 

"Such a good little slut." 

All Graves can do now is let out broken whimpers and moans. Makarov's thrusts become erratic and faster as he chases his orgasm. He fills Graves up with his cum and starts to pant. Makarov slowly pulls out and Graves whines from the loss. Kitchen roll is ripped from a large roll somewhere near him. Graves feels all floaty now and he barely registers the fact that Makarov is cleaning up the cum dripping from him. 

Makarov pulls down Graves' skirt then picks him up along with the bowl of pasta. He carries Graves to the couch and lays down with Graves on top of him. One arm loosely wraps around Graves and the other picks up the fork and holds a bite of pasta to Graves' lips. Graves eats it and his eyes start to shut. 

"Is this better?" Makarov asks quietly. 

"Mhm." 

Makarov rubs his back, "Did you enjoy it?"

"Mhm." His mind is completely blank right now. All he can do is eat the little bits of pasta being fed to him and nod along with whatever Makarov says. 

"Good." He kisses Graves' hair. "Just rest then." 

"Hey Makarov..."

"Yes princess?"

"Can I tell you something?" Maybe Graves shouldn't confess to this but the guard got touchy. He's fine with flirting but touch is crossing the line.

"What's the matter?"

"That guard guy touched my ass." 

"What?" Makarov's voice becomes sharp and harsh. Graves flinches. He softens his voice quickly, "When?"

"When you told him to leave the fucking kitchen and go join the others." 

"You know Russian?" 

"A little. My dad had this friend who was Russian. Sometimes they babysat me."

"I will deal with him later. Just enjoy your meal." 

"Okay daddy." 

Chapter Text

Graves makes breakfast for them both in the morning after Makarov dresses him in a little pair of white shorts and a grey t-shirt. It's just something simple as Makarov doesn't have much time but it's still nice. He regrets telling Makarov about the guard thing. It's not going to end well. 

The guard in question comes into the kitchen as Makarov goes to leave. He has two black eyes and a split lip but still seems happy to see Graves. Odd. Did Makarov not say he said anything about it?

Makarov smiles at Graves, "I cleared everything up, princess. It was a mistake that won't happen again. Right?"

"Of course." The guard nods his head. 

"I'll be home in a few hours, princess. Be a good girl for me." Makarov gives him another kiss that Graves doesn't return then leaves. 

Once the front door shuts, the guard looks at Graves. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" If it was an accident then it's fine. 

"You having to deal with Mister Makarov. He's a monster." 

"You work for him." Graves points out. 

"I know. Still he's insane."

Graves doesn't respond. He starts washing up the empty dishes and used cutlery. "I'm assuming I still can't leave?"

"No sir." 

"Fine with me sweetheart."

"My name is Dmitri."

"Graves. I'm not really a fan of the whole sir thing." 

"Graves." Dmitri repeats. When Graves looks over to him after drying his hands, there's a small soft smile on his face at having permission to say Graves' name. It's sweet. Nothing like the smiles of Makarov where there's danger laced into it. 

"Are you okay?" Graves gestures to the black eyes. 

"Fine. He's done worse to others before." 

"Alright. I'm going to go. Just do whatever you have to." This is so horribly awkward. How the fuck does he talk to guards who work for the man holding him captive? It's not like he has anything in common with them. He might agree with Dmitri that Makarov is insane but he isn't going to vocalise that agreement. 

Graves heads upstairs to his new hobby room. He heads straight for the art supplies this time and picks out a few things. It'll be relaxing and he doesn't have to think about Makarov. Maybe Graves can do a portrait of one of his boys or a painting of the base. Something familiar. A little slice of home. 

There's a knock on the door when he finishes his painting. It's of the base with some small figures representing his Shadows.

"Come in." 

Dmitri comes into the room, the door slightly ajar. He has two cups with him, "Coffee with cream and sugar is okay?"

"Yeah. Perfect. Just set it down here." 

He comes over and sets down the coffee. Dmitri looks over at the guitar on the wall then Graves, "Do you play?"

"Yeah. Why?" 

"Would you play for me?"

This is starting to get oddly flirtatious. It's harmless fun though. He nods and Dmitri takes down the guitar for him. Dmitri sits in front of him as Graves positions the guitar and tunes it. 

"I'm warning you now that I'm a bit rusty." 

"I'm sure it'll be good."

Graves strums the strings a little to find his feet then begins to play. It's something he learnt in high school. Nothing fancy but easy enough to start off with. Dmitri seems to be enjoying it as well. Graves hums along occasionally when his mind is able to fill in the lyrics that he's forgotten. He's never been a singing type but with a little liquid courage he's pretty alright with a microphone. 

The song soon ends and Dmitri quietly claps for him. Graves shakes his head as he puts the guitar down, "It wasn't that good."

"It was wonderful." 

"You really are a sweetheart." 

Dmitri leans forward in his chair, "Your eyes are so blue Graves. You'd like nice in a blue dress." 

"Uh..." Graves leans back. He doesn't want to die.

Dmitri cups his left cheek and pulls Graves in. Graves freezes in his seat. Is this really going to happen? There are footsteps outside the room and Dmitri snaps back. He gets up and leaves the room quickly.

Someone was listening in. 

He doesn't leave the room when he hears yelling. The front door opens and Graves does not dare move from his seat. 

Makarov is back. 

His coffee is getting cold and all he can do is watch the steam wafting slowly stop. There's more screaming - Makarov is screaming now - then the sound of pained yells. Tears born of utter terror well in his eyes. What is Makarov doing to Dmitri? What will he do to Graves? 

Footsteps ring out as Makarov comes up the stairs. The coffee is light. Dmitri used a lot of cream. How much sugar did he use? 

The door is pushed open entirely, "Princess?" 

Graves doesn't move.

"Where did he touch you?" 

He lifts his hand up and touches his left cheek. 

"Did he kiss you?"

Graves shakes his head and whispers out, "Please don't kill me." 

"I won't. Look at me."

He looks at Makarov. His suit is covered in blood along with his face. He beat him to death then. Makarov walks over to Graves and picks him up. 

"Please don't kill me."

"My poor girl." Makarov strokes his cheek with the back of his hand and Graves feels the blood of Dmitri smear across his face. 

"Can you shower?"

"Let's have a bath. You and me." 

Graves just nods. He lets Makarov carry him to the bathroom. Graves sits on the side of the bath as Makarov runs the bath. He lifts up his arms when instructed to and lets Makarov strip him. 

Dmitri is dead. 

It's all his fault. 

He started flirting with him. Graves was the one who got him in trouble with Makarov. If Graves had just kept his fucking mouth shut then Dmitri wouldn't be dead. 

Makarov helps him into the bath. Graves rests up against him and lets him sink into the hot water. Makarov washes the blood off his face first then starts washing both his and Graves' hair. His eyes flutter shut as Graves relaxes against him. 

"Princess? What's the matter?"

"My fault he's dead."

"He touched you. He went to kiss you." 

"I flirted with him when I first met him. Called him sweetheart and he saw me naked." 

The hand Makarov has on the back of Graves' neck begins to squeeze, "Oh?"

"Didn't want him to touch. It was just supposed to be fun." Graves chokes out. 

"Trying to make me jealous?" 

"Mhm." 

"Naughty girl." Makarov lets go of his neck and spanks him once. 

"I'm sorry." 

"I know. No more now. You're mine and there will be no fairytale prince coming to save you."

Graves starts to cry. It's the undeniable truth. Nobody is coming to save them. The Shadows can't as they'll be killed by Makarov in an instant. 141 hate his guts so they won't bother. His father will be killed if he tries and due to Graves' affiliations with Shepherd he's unsure if his father would even try. 

Makarov rubs his back and continues washing them both. He helps Graves out of the bath and wipes his face then dries him off with a fluffy towel. Makarov frowns as he realises that there are no pyjamas in the bathroom. He leads Graves to their bedroom then dresses him in a pair of grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt. 

"Princess?" 

"Mhm?" Graves barely feels like he's in the room. 

"What do you want to eat?"

"Not hungry."

"Graves." 

"You pick."

"Alright. Would you like to call your dad?"

"He's working. He never picks up when he's working." 

Makarov guides him to the bed then goes on his phone. "I'll have one of my men bring us something." He gets into bed next to Graves after putting on shorts and a t-shirt. Makarov strokes Graves' face, "Did I scare you?"

"Mhm." 

"Poor little thing. I'll be so good for you now. Keep you so happy and warm."

"Hug?" Graves asks quietly. 

Makarov pulls him into a tight embrace, "Of course baby. The rest of the week is all for you."

Graves curls up and closes his eyes. He doesn't want Makarov to be the one holding him but Makarov is his only source of comfort now. There's nobody else. Nothing else. Just Makarov. 

"Did you get dessert?"

"Cheesecake."

"I like cheesecake."

"I know." Makarov kisses his forehead, "I know everything about you. Down to your blood type." 

"What did I get for Christmas in the fifth grade?" Graves asks. This is stupid it he might as well make himself laugh. 

"A bike."

"Nope."

"A toy train?"

"No." 

"What then?"

"It was a pair of socks."

"Your father loves you though."

Graves smiles as he remembers it, "He ordered me a bunch of stuff for Christmas but there was really bad weather so it never came. The only present that he had for me was a pair of socks."

"That's nice."

"I thought you knew everything about me."

"Well obviously not that. Do you find yourself funny?" 

"I think I'm hilarious."

Makarov smiles and rolls his eyes, "Very funny."

"You're smiling."

"You're adorable." Makarov kisses his nose. 

Graves doesn't mind being called adorable. Maybe he is starting to like this whole being this wife thing. He does look pretty. 

No. 

He does not like this. Graves does not like being called adorable. He doesn't look pretty in the clothes Makarov makes him wear. From now on, he's going to wear clothes like the ones Makarov has in him now. 

Graves will not be his good little wife.

Chapter Text

It's Thai food. Graves let Makarov carry him down the stairs bridal style to the kitchen. Makarov spent the whole trip down whispering sweet nothings to Graves and kissing his face. It was admittedly kind of nice. Graves hates himself for it.

Makarov sets him down in a chair. He serves Graves some food and even pours him a drink. 

Graves stares at the food. 

"Princess have a little."

"I'm not hungry."

"How about I feed you? Will you eat then?"

Graves shrugs his shoulders. Makarov picks up the fork and shovels some rice onto it. He holds it up to Graves' lips and Graves does eat it. He chews and swallows. Makarov kisses his cheek. 

That's the routine for the next hour. In between Makarov eating his own food, he feeds Graves little bits and Graves lets himself be fed. He gets a kiss on the cheek after each forkful eaten and Makarov praises him for being so good. 

It comes to dessert and Graves is using a little spoon by himself. Makarov's eyes are bright and he breaks out into a grin when Graves starts eating. He drops his own dessert spoon and pulls Graves into a tight embrace. Makarov kisses him and Graves lets him. He doesn't fight away but he doesn't melt into it either. 

Makarov pulls away and looks almost sheepish, "Apologies, love. I just got excited."

Graves takes a few more bites and pushes it away, "I'm full. Honestly."

"Would you like to pick what we watch tonight?" Makarov asks as he gets up with his own slice of cheesecake. He pulls Graves to his feet with his other hand. 

"You pick."

"How about one of those Disney movies Americans seem to like?"

"Sure."

They retire to the living room. Makarov lays on the couch with his legs splayed open and back against an arm rest. Graves knows exactly where he's supposed to be so he lays between Makarov's legs, head on the other's chest. Makarov sets his cheesecake aside as he starts finding Disney movies. Graves does end up picking to some degree as he says which ones he thinks Makarov will and won't like. 

A phone begins to ring halfway through Beauty and the Beast. 

Graves' phone to be exact.

Makarov pauses the movie. Graves knows the exact ringtone and so he knows who is calling. It's his dad. Makarov raises an eyebrow, "It will have to be on speaker." He hands Graves the phone.

Graves accepts the call and puts it on speaker. 

"Lip?"

"Hi dad. I thought you were working."

"I am. Just taking a break to call you, kid."

"How have you been?"

"Good good. You?"

"I'm okay. Tired though." Graves looks at Makarov and the other man smirks. He runs a hand through Graves' hair and nods his approval at the response.

"You alone right now, Lip?"

Graves holds up a hand to silently signal to Makarov to just wait as he answers, "No."

"You're sure?"

"Yep yep."

He can hear the sigh of relief his dad lets out, "Good. I got this bad feeling something had happened. It's good to know you're alright."

"I'm fine dad."

"I got like another two weeks ago until I'm home. Once everything is in order, I could swing by."

Nobody's told him yet. It makes sense. They need his dad to be focused on the task at hand. Although Graves knows that the Shadows and whoever his dad has watching him definitely have said something, it won't reach his dad until he's back on American soil.

"Maybe. I'm a little busy at the moment but I'll see closer to the time."

"Alright kid. I have to go. Goodnight Lip."

"Goodnight dad. Love you."

"Love you too." His dad hangs up.

Makarov squints, "Why did you say no?"

"Because it's one of our codes. If I say I'm alone then it means there's someone there and vice versa."

"You lied to your father for me? I'm touched."

"You could kill me or him if I don't do what you want. He'll know soon anyways."

"I'll keep you safe. Nobody is taking you from me. You're my wife." Makarov pulls him into a tender kiss. 

Graves breaks it after a minute, "Can we go to bed? Please?"

"Of course."

Makarov carries him back up to bed. He tucks Graves in and gets into bed next to him. Makarov makes no passes at him and his hands never wander lower than Graves' hips. He kisses him and Graves kisses back ever so slightly. This is starting to get a lot more tolerable.

In the morning Graves slips out of bed. He grabs some of Makarov's clothes and changes into them before heading downstairs. Maybe if he makes breakfast for them both before Makarov wakes up the man won't be upset with him not all dolled up. 

Will his dad find him? Graves doubts it. Even if he does, there's the matter of getting Graves. Makarov would probably move them out of the states to a different country. There's no way he'll let Graves go. No amount of fighting and resisting or refusing to be his wife will work. 

"Why aren't you dressed?" Makarov's voice is sharp. 

Graves looks over to him, "I am."

"You should be in the clothes I bought you."

"These are comfy."

Makarov grabs his wrists as the fat of the bacon in the pan bubbles, "Go upstairs now and change."

"You said you'll keep me happy and warm. That this week is all for me."

He lets go, "What are we having for breakfast?"

"Breakfast muffins."

Makarov nods, "Alright." He squeezes Graves' ass, "You look good in my clothes."

"Thank you." 

They eat breakfast once it's made up. Graves washes the dishes and Makarov sidles up to him. His hands grab onto the fat of Graves' thighs and he digs his fingers in. 

"You're so perfect, my love. You were made to be mine."

"I bet you say that to all of your captives."

He squeezes more, "You are the first prisoner I've taken that I have had like this. My first and only wife."

"You keep sweet talking me like that and I'll end up with your dick in my mouth." 

Makarov whispers, "You're such a beauty too. An all-American sweetheart for me to treasure." 

Graves moans, "Keep going."

"Such a pretty girl with a cute cock for me to play with. God, you're a dream come true for me. All I've ever wanted." 

A part of Graves knows Makarov is lying. That his praise is nothing more than honeyed worms in order to get his cock sucked. However, it's been so damn long since Graves has been praised in such a way. He'll take what he can get at this point. 

Graves leads him over to a chair. Makarov sits and spreads his legs slightly so Graves can slot himself between them. He kisses Makarov's thighs as he pulls down the man's boxers. His hard cock springs out and hits Graves in the face. Pre-cum is leaking from his tip already. Apparently Graves isn't the only one enjoying the praise.

"I expect you to take all of it, princess."

"Yes daddy."

"Then start sucking."

Graves starts off slowly, only taking in the first few inches as he starts sucking. He doesn't want to disappoint Makarov as the punishment is going to be so painful. 

Makarov quickly pulls Graves' head further onto his cock after a few minutes. He gags and struggles but keeps sucking. It's hard to breathe but Graves needs to please him. He has already gone against Makarov once today. That is probably the limit. Graves is going to make him happy.

His head gets pulled off of Makarov's cock and Graves takes in a deep breath before being forced back down. Makarov strokes the back of his head and Graves relaxes his throat somewhat. It sort of helps as he keeps sucking and looking up at Makarov.

"You are made for sin. Keep looking at me, princess."

Graves speeds up and keeps looking up at Makarov as he does so. Makarov keeps petting his hair and starts to groan out about what a good little whore Graves is. He feels tears well in his eyes from the pain and the praise mixing together. 

Makarov grabs his head and pulls his cock out of his mouth. Graves lets out an involuntary whine from the loss and opens his mouth as Makarov jerks himself off and cums over his face. Some of it gets into Graves' mouth and he swallows it. Then, whilst Makarov watches, Graves uses his hands to wipe up the rest then licks it off his fingers. Makarov pats his lap with one hand and Graves gets up and sits on his lap as instructed. He kisses Graves on the cheek. 

Graves leans against him and rests his head on Makarov's shoulder, "Makarov what will happen if people come looking for me?"

"I will either attempt to defuse the situation or we leave. You are not leaving me or being taken away. Also please, my love, call me Vova."

"Okay... Vova. Will you hurt my dad?"

"Not if I can help it. I won't actively seek to harm him but I won't hesitate to deal with him."

"Alright." 

Makarov kisses his head, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"I'm not a dog."

"You are my bitch."

"Yeah let's go for a walk." 

"I expect you to wear something pretty though. Go upstairs and change." 

"Do I have any sneakers?"

"Yes. Just check your closet. Now go before I change my mind." 

Graves nods and gets up. He kisses Makarov on the cheek to seal the deal then quickly heads upstairs to go change. This might be one of very few times where he gets to leave the house. He doesn't want to lose his chance. 

Chapter Text

Graves changes into a pair of jeans that hug his body and a cropped shirt. He finds some black sneakers mixed with the heels and pumps. It's probably the closest he'll get to wearing something more masculine. If Graves ever gets out of here though, he might buy himself some feminine clothes. He feels pretty. Sue him.

Makarov - Vova - is waiting downstairs. Graves needs to start calling him Vova. He smiles at Graves' outfit and kisses his cheek, "What a pretty girl I have."

"Mhm." Graves isn't sure why he's so easily agreeing now. Perhaps the fight is leaving him. There's no point in fighting as much now. Nobody will save him.

He is alone.

They head out of the front door. The feeling of sun on his skin and wind in his hair, no matter how faint, is an ugly reminder that the last time he was outside was during a failed escape attempt. He could try to escape today. Knock Vova out against a tree and run.

Where would he even go?

As if sensing what he's thinking, Vova grips onto Graves' hand. The leather glove does nothing to try and minimise the sharp pain. "Now princess this is a privilege. If I have to find a way to keep you permanently unable to run away then I will not hesitate. I have found a bullet to the knee is quite effective."

Graves shivers, "I won't run. Where are we going?"

"Just down the road. Unfortunately here has little in terms of woods but there's a river not too far from here."

They start walking down the dirt road. How many people know about this place? It's so remote but there's internet and electricity. Vova probably bought it under a fake name or something.

It does feel good to be outside. Graves didn't realise how much he's missed outside until now. There's the faint song of birds from where they're sitting on telephone wires. The sun is shining and he's never enjoyed the heat of it more. Vova seems to be happy too which is making this surprisingly sweeter. Sure, this week is all for Graves - although he's not really sure what day it is - and he says he'll do anything to make Graves happy but how much of that is the truth remains to be seen. As long as he is happy for now then that is good enough for Graves.

The sound of rushing water alerts Graves to the fact they've arrived at their destination. The river is clear and he can see the little banks of sediment and loose pebbles under the water. Vova sits on the river bank and pulls Graves to sit down in his lap. He hooks his chin over Graves' right shoulder and stares at the water.

"My dear, I have a question."

"Yes?" Graves straightens up. A wrong answer could end up with Graves' head being held under the water.

"What jewel would you like in your engagement ring?"

"I get to pick?"

"Yes."

"Can I have sapphires?"

"Very well. May I know why?"

"I got told once they match my eyes."

Vova presses a kiss to his cheek, "They were right. I will get the finest sapphires available."

Graves turns his head to look at Vova. This feels romantic. He kisses him, "Thank you."

Vova's face lights up. His eyes are wild with light and fire like a forest has been set ablaze in them. "You kissed me."

"Yeah. What's the big deal?"

He soon gets knocked off of Vova's lap and Vova gets on top of him. Vova kisses every inch of Graves' face and neck that he can get access to. What has gotten into him? It's just a fucking kiss. Graves hasn't agreed to kids or anything. Vova's kisses soon become nips and bites. Graves moans and his fingers find themselves gripping onto Vova's back as he begins to spread his legs.

"That's it. So fucking eager for me, aren't you? My perfect fucking wife. Do you want me to fuck you here, princess? Let anyone come and see you fucked out and dumb from my cock?"

They're in public.

Graves immediately snaps his legs shut together like a mouse trap before squirming his way out from under Vova, "No public stuff. Please."

"Why not?" Vova pulls him by his legs back into position.

"Had a bad experience before."

"Can we try here? There is nobody around." Vova presses a kiss to his cheek and adds on in a sweet voice, "We will stop the moment someone shows up. I promise."

Graves hesitantly nods, "I'm not prepped though."

"I have a little lube on me. I'll be gentle too." Vova peppers his face with kisses. "So gentle, baby. I promise."

"Okay."

Vova's hands make quick work of his jeans and underwear. He looks up at Graves, "Is this my underwear?"

"Yeah..."

"Cute." He smiles and wraps a hand around the base of Graves' cock. "You're still so tense, my love. Let me help you."

"Vova!" Graves yelps as Vova starts to jerk his cock. The rough feeling of skin against skin makes him whine and whimper. Vova notices and lets go before spitting onto his hand a few times. He returns his hand to Graves' cock and it burns less.

"Just relax for me, princess. That's it. Good girl." Vova coos as he starts to sink down. He wraps his lips around the head of Graves' cock, his tongue lapping at the slit.

"Ah! Daddy!" Graves cries out as his hips buck up. Vova gags from the sudden intrusion and Graves immediately goes still, hips still up in the air.

Is he mad?

Vova goes further down on Graves' cock and gags again. He looks up at Graves with the eyes of a feral animal. Graves gives another hesitant thrust of his hips and Vova's eyes light up at it.

He likes it.

They alternate almost perfectly. Vova takes in more of Graves' cock for a while, sucking like his life depends on it. Then Graves snaps his hips up to push his cock deeper inside and moans like a whore. His legs shake from holding himself up like this but he keeps going. The growls coming from Vova are going straight to Graves' dick as he cries and moans.

"So close. Daddy I'm close please - " Graves whines loudly when Vova deepthroats him, "ah! Please! Please!"

Vova seems to understand what he needs as he drags his lips back up to the head of Graves' cock. He sucks and hollows his cheeks as Graves' cums into his mouth. Vova swallows then pops Graves' cock out of his mouth. He smiles and presses a kiss to Graves' abdomen.

"What do we say?"

"Thank you! Thank you daddy." Graves pants and his eyes flutter. "I'm all yours."

Vova pushes himself between Graves' legs before forcing them up into the air, looped over Vova's shoulders. He reaches into a pocket and fishes out a little packet of lube. Vova was definitely looking to get some on this walk. Graves relaxes as he hears Vova's zipper being pulled open then the groans of the other. He feels the cold lube being squirted onto his hole.

"With or without my gloves, princess?"

"With."

Vova chuckles as one gloved finger pushes past the ring of muscle, "Do you like my gloves? The ones I wear when I kill."

Graves nods as he squirms slightly from the sudden intrusion, "Yeah."

"Naughty girl. Didn't realise I picked such a little dirty whore."

"Vova please."

Another finger is pushed in and Graves can feel Vova scissoring him open. "Let me enjoy your pretty face as I pleasure you."

"Please?" Graves pouts slightly and he watches as Vova's resolve breaks.

"Alright. Just for you." Vova lines up his cock and slowly pushes inside. Graves gasps and shifts his hips so Vova sinks in deeper.

He keeps good to his word and is gentle with Graves. Every thrust is accompanied with gentle mutterings of Russian about how well Graves is taking him and how he's such a good girl. It's almost agonising how slow he's going.

"Faster daddy. I can take it."

"I said I'd be gentle."

"Please fucking ruin me. Make me dumb on your cock."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Please Vova. I need it."

It seems to work as Vova loses his - probably false - inhibitions and starts fucking Graves like he has before. This is the first time that Graves has ever seen his face when they fuck and it's a terrifying sight now. Before, his eyes were filled with a soft sort of adoration. Now, that hunger and lust has returned like Graves has reduced him to nothing more than a wild animal who can only think with his dick.

Graves struggles somewhat but he manages to arch his back and shift his hips in the right ways to make Vova groan loudly. Vova bends down and starts to bite and suck at Graves' neck. He knows that if he decides to look in the water after this, his neck will be covered in fresh bite marks and bruises.

"Faster! Harder!" Graves whines out.

"Beg." Vova growls into his ear before nipping at his earlobe.

"Please daddy! Please! I need it faster and harder!" Graves tries to push himself down on Vova's cock.

"Good girl." Vova chuckles into his ear as he accepts the pathetic begs. He goes even faster and harder somehow and Graves starts to whine.

"So close..." Graves mumbles out. His legs are shaking again and he grips onto the grass for dear life.

"Good girl. Cum for me." Vova orders.

"Right there! Keep doing that!" Graves yells out as Vova starts hitting just the right spot. Vova does as he's told and soon Graves bucks his hips up with a strangled yell as he cums all over himself.

Vova keeps fucking his tight hole and Graves just starts to moan and whimper. His grip on the English language seems to have completely slipped away from him as he only speaks in Russian now. Graves picks up on bits of it between all the curses and growls about how close Vova is and how Graves is the perfect slut.

"There! Angel! There! Fuck!" Vova manages to get out before he cums inside of Graves. His thrusts become erratic as he fucks Graves through his orgasm. Eventually he slows down and pulls out with care, "I love you."

"I love you too." Graves isn't sure how much he means that but it's definitely what Vova wants to hear right now.

Vova pulls his pants up then dresses Graves. He pulls Graves to lie on top of him as he lays down next to the river. "You're mine."

"I'm yours."

"May I ask you about Las Almas?" Vova secures his arms around Graves' waist as he kisses at Graves' bruises.

"What about it?"

"When you met the members of 141, did you feel any attraction to them?"

"Just Soap really. He was sort of cute."

"I see. Did you sleep with him?"

"No. I haven't really gotten any recently."

"Oh?" Vova sounds absolutely delighted at the news. "So the last time was that man with the foot thing as you put it?"

"Yeah. That was like a month ago."

"I see." Vova kisses his cheek scar, "And I've been the best?"

"Yes." That's the truth. As much as Graves doesn't want to admit it, nobody has ever made him cum or feel this way before. Vladimir Makarov is the best he's ever had and he's honestly a little disappointed at that fact.

They head back to the house once they both feel like moving. Graves lets Vova lead him to the couch where they lay together in a mess of limbs and soft kisses. He really didn't think he would end up kissing Vova of his own volition but stranger things have happened.

Graves' phone buzzes which surprises them both. Vova takes out his phone from a pocket and Graves realises he never he even noticed that Vova just had his phone. He could have taken it but it just never crossed his mind to check. Vova frowns at the screen and Graves manages to peek at it. There's a simple message from his dad.

Dad: Where are you?

Chapter Text

"What do we do?" 

Vova stares at the phone screen. His phone starts to ring and the contact screen comes up. He's calling now. Vova kisses his cheek, "Be quiet, princess."

"Okay."

Vova picks up and puts it on speaker, "Hello?"

His father yells, "Where the fuck is my son?"

"In my arms sleeping. You should be more quiet, I don't want to wake him."

"What have you done to him?"

"Nothing. Sometimes he takes naps."

"Where the fuck are you?"

"In our home."

"Your home?" His father scoffs, "I want to talk to Lip."

"Very well." Vova moves the phone away and kisses Graves softly, "Your father wishes to speak to you, dear."

"Okay darlin'." Graves says just loud enough to be caught on the phone. Vova brings the phone to him, "Hi dad."

"Lip! Why the fuck are you calling Makarov darling?" His father demands.

"He's my partner? Dad you know I'm gay."

"Kid my intel is that you got fucking kidnapped!"

"Well I did always want to be in a fairytale..." Graves trails off. 

"Lip this ain't funny and you know it. Has he hurt you?"

"No." Well, with his consent Vova has but that's definitely not what his dad means. There's also the fact he tasered Graves which is more in line with his dad's thinking.

"Do you want to be there?"

"Yes."

There's a pause, "If I came to see you, would you be upset?"

"No but I don't want you and him to fight."

"Can you leave?" 

He looks up at Vova who nods. Vova mutes the call, "I don't lock the doors. There are car keys in that bowl by the door. You can leave whenever you want to, princess."

Graves unmutes the call, "Yeah but I don't want to."

"Can I come see you?"

He looks at Vova again who speaks now, "I don't want anyone coming to the house. I refuse to put Graves in harm's way."

"He's my son." His dad argues back. Graves can tell he's gritting his teeth. "You can't keep him locked up."

"We went for a walk today." Vova counters.

"Oh wow a fucking walk. Shit, I didn't realise I have a dog for a son."

Vova raises an eyebrow at Graves, "I see where you get your sass from." 

"Like father like son." Graves kisses his cheek. 

"Did you just kiss him?" 

Graves looks at the phone. Vova must have changed it to a video call as he sees his dad staring at him in disbelief. He's still wearing his aviators but judging by the way his jaw is clenched, he's trying to stay calm. "Hi dad. Yeah I did."

"You're safe." His dad can't seem to hide his surprise which is fair. He probably thought Vova would have turned Graves into an unrecognisable, broken mess.

"I'm safe. I'm happy too." 

"He's not threatening you?"

"No." That's a complete lie. Whatever piece of intel his dad has is not the whole story. Then again, nobody except Graves and Vova's men know the threat. 

"Right. I'll call you back." His dad very quickly hangs up. 

Graves gets up, "We need to go." 

"Why?" 

"Something's up. He never ends a call without saying he loves me."

"He said he'd call you back."

"He still always does it. Something is happening on his end."

"Adler is CIA. Fuck!" Vova gets up then throws Graves' phone against a wall. He grabs Graves, "Pack some clothes. I will get my men. We are leaving." 

"Alright. Where are we going?"

"I.. I don't know." Vova kisses him hard, "You'll be safe though. I will take us somewhere safe."

"We could go to my base."

"Why the fuck would we do that? Don't be a fucking idiot! Go upstairs and pack." Vova snarls at him. 

Graves nods and heads up the stairs. He was being kind before. Sweet even. Now he's back to being Makarov. Mean. Cruel. 

He finds the suitcases in their bedroom. Graves packs essentials only - clothes they can run in, more than enough underwear, and lube. The last one might seem a tad ridiculous but Vova is going to want to relieve his stress somehow. Graves is the perfect candidate for it. 

Graves brings them downstairs with relative ease and stands by the door. Vova is barking down his phone in Russian. Graves' own phone now lies in a crushed pile by the wall where Vova threw it. Vova doesn't feel quite right anymore - Makarov suits the man before him far better - but he's already in a bad mood. There's no need to make it worse. 

Trucks arrive after an hour or so. Vova grabs him by his wrist and drags Graves into the back of one. He gets shoved into a seat and Vova joins him. Vova bangs on the window separating them from the driver and they're soon off. 

Graves looks at his wrist. There's a red mark from where he'd been grabbed. He flits his eyes over to Vova who doesn't look like he gives a single damn about hurting him. It's fine. Graves was a fool for even entertaining the idea that maybe Vova could be sweet. That this could be nice. 

"Vova?" Graves asks in a quiet voice.

"What?" He snaps back. 

"Nevermind. Sorry."

"I don't want to hear another word from you unless it's to ask to suck my cock." 

"Yes Vova."

They stay in silence for several hours. Graves would've spent the time looking out the windows but they're tinted black. He could just about watch the sun set. Vova doesn't look at him once. No soft words. No kisses or touches. Just left alone. 

They stop at a rundown house in the late evening. It's dark out, the sky a deep blue mixing with black. Graves gets out before Vova and waits. He walks behind him, head tilted down. Vova's men post themselves around the place as Graves is escorted into the house and upstairs. 

The bedroom has certainly seen better days. It sports a double bed, the frame rusting and more fitting for an abandoned prison than anything else, with a thin mattress and no blankets. There's black mould occupying the ceiling corner farthest from the bed, slowly crawling down to cover the yellowing walls. The wooden floor has broken in areas, sharp splinters sticking up. Graves doesn't let his grievances be known. 

He doesn't want to make Vova any more angry at him. 

"On your knees."

"Vova the floor isn't safe."

"I said get on your knees." Vova grabs him by his hair and throws him to the ground. 

The wood under his left leg collapses from the sudden weight. He cries out as his foot goes through the rotting wood. Graves hopes he hasn't sprained his ankle. 

Whatever strange state of cruelty Vova has been in seems to be quickly broken like a spell as he rushes to Graves' side. A thousand apologies are muttered as he helps Graves up and onto the bed. He kisses every bit of Graves' face. Graves lays there and allows Vova to go through the motions but it doesn't feel the same as when he was being kissed by the river bank. 

He whispers to him, "Oh my love I didn't mean to be so rough. Forgive me, please." There's almost something akin to a beg in his voice.

"It's fine." Graves softly mutters out. "I want to go to sleep."

"How is your ankle? May I look?"

"I'd like to go to sleep."

Vova withdraws and gets off the bed. He nods, "Of course. I will be back soon." Vova leaves and shuts the door quietly. 

Graves just lies on his back and closes his eyes. He ignores the throbbing pain in his left ankle as best he can. Maybe his dad was right worry about Vova hurting him after all.

It's in the silence that Graves remembers what Vova said earlier. He can leave whenever he wants. 

Logically he knows that it was a lie. Something said for Graves to repeat in his own words so that his dad would be calm. However, something nags in his mind about it. Maybe Vova wasn't lying. What need would he have to lock the doors? They were isolated enough from any potential passer-bys. His Shadows would be too scared to try and find him in case of any threats. Vova's men wouldn't dare betray him except for poor Dmitri and he certainly became an example. 

Graves could have been free the whole time. He could've just slipped out in the morning when he was supposed to be making breakfast. Maybe even take his phone and call someone to come get him. 

There's no point in guessing at what could have been different. Graves could spend all night examining his actions and thinking about all the possible ways he could have kept Vova's eyes off of him. Right now, all he wants is to sleep and hope that Vova is in a better mood tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Graves gets out of bed. The morning birds are still asleep as is Vova. His ankle kills and is definitely sprained at the very least. He hisses when he walks but ignores it for now. Graves is going to leave and a twisted ankle is the least of his concerns. 

He changes into something more masculine again. Graves really doesn't need any questions about why he's wearing a skirt or dress. His underwear is all lacy though so that is a bit of a bust. He would start rooting through Vova's things but any more noise is going to get him caught. 

Graves tries the door and it's unlocked. He pushes it open and it moans from age. Immediately he looks over to Vova. The other's chest rises then falls then rises again. He's still asleep. Of course he could be waiting to make some snarky comment about him going somewhere but Vova wouldn't want to risk it now. He waits a second then slips out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 

Downstairs seems like they had a good time last night. There's bottles of booze and playing cards scattered everywhere. Maybe Vova joined them for some of it. Graves doesn't particularly care. What he does care about is the small wad of cash by one of the soldiers and a set of car keys. He grabs them both and holds his breath as the soldier beneath him slightly stirs. They don't wake though and Graves quickly makes his escape out of the house. 

He presses the button on the car keys and one of the trucks beeps. Graves curses at the loud noise and flash of lights. They're going to wake up soon. He hobbles his way over to the truck and gets in the driver's seat. Graves thrusts the keys into the ignition and turns on the engine. It splutters to life and he buckles himself in. 

As he reverses back, soldiers begin to file out of the house. They curse and aim their guns at the wheels of the car but Graves speeds off before the hail of bullets can hit him. He keeps his foot firmly on the gas and keeps driving. There's no way in hell he can stop. 

It's just open fields for as far as the eye can see. Graves starts to feel nervousness settle in his gut. He doesn't know where the fuck he is or where the fuck he's going. Why the fuck did he leave? He's got a fucked up foot and no sense of direction at the moment. Graves knows he's still in the states but where? 

He turns on the car's system and it's all in Russian. Great. Graves slams his hand against the steering wheel like that will do anything. Why didn't he pay attention during his Russian lessons? 

The car's built in phone starts to ring. A name appears on the screen: The Boss. There's a green phone icon and a matching red one. Graves hits the green one. 

"Where the fuck are you?" Vova screams down the phone. 

"Don't know."

"Why the fuck did you leave?"

"To keep you safe."

The anger leaves and confusion takes over, "What?"

"I left to keep you safe." Graves is lying through his teeth but Vova doesn't need to know. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. 

"You love me, don't you?"

"Yeah. My dad will have you killed on sight. If he finds me safe then it'll be fine."

"Stop the car. I'm coming to get you, princess." 

Graves nods to himself, "Okay. Just please don't be mad. I just wanted to keep you safe." He ends the call and stops the car. 

It takes an hour for another car to pull up. Graves opens the car door after a moment and flinches when his foot gives way. Arms wrap around his midsection and pull him in. 

"Hello." Vova purrs into his ear. 

"Hello." 

"You ran away." A hand moves up and wraps around his throat. "I should kill you for such disobedience."

"Please."

"You wanted to protect me, didn't you? Wanted to be a good wife."

"Yeah." 

"My poor girl." Vova coos into his ear as his hand drops down to Graves' stomach, "There is nothing in this life that shall keep me away from you. They cannot hide you anywhere where I won't look. I will conquer death itself to keep you by my side."

Graves turns his head and kisses him, "Where are we going to go?"

"They have shut down the airports and docks. We cannot leave to another country."

"My base is still an option."

"Like your Shadows will want me there." Vova scowls at the thought of Graves' Shadows. 

"They won't go against me. If they see that I'm happy then they won't do anything."

"Very well but I am getting that ring on you first." 

"How long will that take?"

"Give me your hand." 

Graves gives him his left hand. Vova pulls out a ring box and snaps it open. Inside is a silver ring with three sapphires affixed to it. He slides it onto Graves' ring finger then kisses it. 

"It's beautiful."

"So are you. My beautiful fucking wife." He pushes his hard cock against the curve of Graves' ass. "Ran away like a little lamb from the wolf. I'm going to make it so you can't run again." He drags Graves over to his own truck and opens the back door. Vova throws him onto the backseats and gets on top of him, using his weight to pin Graves down.

"Use me."

"You've been such a bad girl. Bad girls get punished."

"Gonna spank me?"

"No. That's far too good for you. I'm going to fuck you in the backseat like the fucking attention seeking whore you are." 

"Lube?"

"No. Little sluts who disobey like you don't get prepared with lube." 

Graves takes in a sharp breath when his jeans are pulled down. He goes deathly still when the feeling of cool metal presses against his ass. Vova drags the tip of a knife down his ass and cuts through the fabric of his lace panties like a hot knife through butter. 

He spreads Graves' cheeks apart and spits onto his hole. Graves whines and yelps when a finger is roughly shoved inside of him. Vova spanks his ass.

"Ah! Fuck!"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear another word out of you." 

"Yes daddy." 

Another harsh slap to his thigh this time, "Shut up." 

Graves just nods his head. He buries his face into the leather seats to keep himself quiet for Vova. Graves fights off the instinct to scream as he feels Vova shove his cock inside. The spit does nothing to relieve the dry drag of Vova's cock in his ass. There's definitely going to be blood. 

A harsh snap of Vova's hips makes Graves sob silently. He bottoms out and growls something out in Russian about how tight Graves is. The tears spill out of Graves' eyes as he holds in every whimper that comes from Vova's harsh thrusts inside of him. 

"So fucking tight, princess. Fucking hell! Mine! You're never leaving again!"

Graves just nods his head. He's not sure if he can take any harsh slaps from Vova along with the pain in his ass. Fuck, why didn't he just stay? He knew Vova was going to be upset and punish him. Graves doesn't regret it though. For a brief moment he had a taste of a freedom he didn't know he missed. 

"Going to cum in your little cunt. Fucking hell baby. You're such a dirty little whore. My personal slut." Vova bites his neck and Graves is fairly sure he broke skin. 

"Ah! Too much!" Graves cries out. He goes completely still and waits for the harsh slap but Vova seems far more interested in fucking him into next week than dishing out any punishment. Graves lets his sobs slowly gain volume. 

"Yes that's it! Cry for me, bitch! Cry on my cock!" Vova gasps into his ear. 

An unfortunate truth dawns on Graves. They never will have any sort of softness. Not really. Vova's need to control and dominate him - hurt him in whatever way makes Vova cum - will always triumph over any of Graves' needs. The tears flowing down his face are no longer from the pain of getting fucked like this but the pain of being nothing more than a cheap whore with a pretty ring on his finger. He's stuck with a man who does not give a fuck about him. 

Graves lets out another sob when Vova cums inside of him. It burns and he wants to clean himself up now. Vova doesn't seem to be finished with him yet as he pulls out then flips Graves onto his back. He gets on top of him and licks a stripe up his left cheek where tears are still falling. 

"I'm not done yet."

"Black." It's a weak mumble. He doubts Vova heard him. 

"What?"

"Black."

Vova's ragged breathing doesn't help to make Graves feel any better. He reaches to cup Graves' cheek. 

Graves flinches. 

He pulls his head back as much as he can. Away from those gloves that have been stained with his blood now. Away from Vova. Graves tries to move but even slightly dragging himself away draws a scream of pain from the back of his throat. 

"Princess?"

"Please."

"What do you need?"

"Home. Take me home."

"Our home is compromised."

"My home. My base." 

"Very well." He pushes Graves' legs so he curls up in the backseat. Blood and cum is dripping out of his ass, Graves is sure of it, and he just wants to see his Shadows. All Graves wants is his Shadows. 

Chapter Text

Graves lays in the back as Vova drives. He doesn't want to get up or talk to him. They're heading back to the safehouse to grab their clothes and the rest of the men. Graves doesn't know what exactly is going to be Vova's plan but once he's with his Shadows he won't care about anything else. Hopefully they want to see him. 

"Princess?" Vova looks at him through the rearview mirror.

Graves lifts his head slightly to show he's listening. 

"I will need to talk to my men. Since you stole a car, some of them will have to share a car with us."

Vova could have just let him drive it back. It's not like Graves can sit for long enough and move his legs to escape. He nods his head in response and lays back down again. Sitting is going to put him in a lot of pain. Hopefully Vova has painkillers somewhere. 

They arrive back at the house. Graves gets out the back and sits in the front passenger seat. He lets out a whimper of pain as he sits. Vova knits his eyebrows together and kisses his cheek before heading inside the house. 

It takes fifteen minutes for Vova to return with his men. They all file into the cars with three joining Vova. The three men get into the back as Vova gets into the driver's seat. He hands over a packet of painkillers and a bottle of water with some toast. 

"Eat then take two."

Graves nods and does as he's told.

They drive in silence. Hopefully they kick in sooner rather than later. Vova's either instructed his men to be silent or they're too afraid to say anything. It probably is pretty difficult to make casual chat with Vova. 

He rests his head on the headrest and looks out the window as best he can. Graves would roll it down but he doesn't want to be chastised.

"Darling, do you need anything?"

Graves shakes his head.

Vova grips the steering wheel, "Why aren't you talking to me?"

He shrugs.

"Are you upset with me?"

Graves nods. At this point, if Vova hurts him again then it won't change much. 

"How do I make it up to you?"

"How about you actually act like you love me?"

"I do love you!" Vova looks at him. "I have never cared for someone like I do for you!"

"I'm fucking bleeding! You threw me into the floor last night because I wouldn't suck you off! If you actually fucking love me you wouldn't take your anger out on me!"

Vova looks back at the road. Graves crosses his arms and goes back to looking out the window. When they get to his base, he's not speaking to Vova. He doesn't care about seeming like a happy couple anymore. 

They stop at what is apparently the halfway point for a piss break. It looks familiar and it's not like they can go anywhere else. There aren't any roadblocks on the state lines so his dad is probably planning to force them to go to base. Vova completely destroyed his phone so it's not like he can be accused of planning this. Although, it's not like logic and reason will stop Vova from being an idiot. 

Vova comes back to the car after taking care of his business. He cleans his hands with sanitiser then opens up his suitcase. Graves packed everything in it. There shouldn't be anything in there besides clothes. 

He opens up Graves' door and hands him his tablet with a pair of earphones, "Here. We still have a few hours and I can tell you're bored."

"No thanks. I just want to see my boys."

"Are they your children?" Vova scoffs to himself like the idea is ridiculous.

"I have a good relationship with my men. That's why they freaked out at me going with you."

"I have a good relationship with my men!"

"They're terrified of you."

"So what? They're supposed to be my friends?"

"No. You can use fear and I'll use love. If you treat my Shadows how you treat your guys though, I won't stop my dad from dealing with you."

Vova puts the tablet on his lap with the earphones, "I downloaded some movies onto it."

"Give it to one of your men. I don't want it."

"Please? I will do anything you want."

"Just take me home."

"Fine!" He slams the car door and yells at his men. They get back into the cars and soon start driving again.

The base is coming into view as the sun sets. He grins and bounces his knee, the tablet put onto the dashboard. Graves didn't use it once and he doesn't give a fuck about it or making Vova happy. He wants to see his boys. 

Danny and Leo are manning the gate. Vova stops the car and Graves immediately gets out. Both of his Shadows perk up at the sight of him and he runs to them. The pain in his ankle and in his ass doesn't matter. He just wants to hug them.

They throw themselves at him and he falls to the ground with them on top. He hugs them tight like they'll be ripped away from him again.

"Commander! You're home!" Leo gently headbutts him. 

"Yeah I am. I'm home."

"Are you alright, princess? Do you need a hand up?" 

Both Danny and Leo scramble to their feet, guns pointed at Vova. Graves gets up by himself and puts his hands up between them, "It's okay."

"Step away from our commander!"

"A man can't be next to his fiancée?"

"Fiancée?" Danny looks at Graves. "You're engaged?"

"Yeah. I know it's a lot but I really want a hot meal and a shower right now. Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

"Your dad is coming tomorrow though." 

"That's fine. Just please let me rest."

"Where are they going to go?" Leo gestures to Vova's men.

"We have some empty barracks. They can go there. None of them will misbehave, right Vova?" He gives Vova a pointed look. 

"Of course not, my love. My men will be on their best behaviour." He looks at them all, "Follow what Daniel and Leo say."

They nod their heads. Graves starts heading into base. Vova can bring their suitcases. He wants something to eat. 

His personal quarters are just a glorified studio apartment. He heads into the kitchen and finds a frozen ready meal. It's hardly Michelin worthy but it's better than the concoction of toast and painkillers he had earlier. Graves prepares it then throws it into the microwave. 

The door opens. Vova comes in with their suitcases and the tablet. He has a scowl on his face. It melts away to a smile as he abandons it all in the living room. He walks up to Graves and pulls him into an embrace. 

"Get off me."

"I'm sorry."

"What?" 

"I'm sorry for hurting you and taking my anger out on you. The way I treat you is hot and cold - I know that. Now that we're safe, I'll be better. A better husband."

The microwave beeps. "Your words mean nothing to me."

"Then let me prove it."

"Fine. Whatever. Not like I can get rid of you now."

"You want to be rid of me?"

"Not yet but I'm getting there." Graves opens up the microwave and grabs his dinner. It looks like shit but he grabs a fork and heads over to the small table. 

"What about my dinner?"

"Make something yourself. I'll be your little housewife when you stop treating me like shit."

Vova kisses his forehead, "I'll be the very best husband."

Dinner passes in silence. Vova tries to make conversation: complimenting the base, talking about Graves' Shadows, or plans to deal with his dad. Graves ignores him. He has nothing to say to him right now.

Graves heads to the shower after dinner. He turns it on high in the hopes it will help the pains in the body. As he waits for it to heat up, there's a knock on the door. He opens it and Vova is standing there.

"May I join you?"

Graves shuts the door and locks it. 

He strips down and gets into the shower. The hot water soothes like a burn and he finally crashes. Every emotion that's been swirling around inside of him - rage, sadness, and despair - comes out of him like an eruption. He sobs under the shower head, hot water stinging his eyes. Graves cries and lets his tears mix with the shower water, concealing them as nothing more than the shower. 

"Princess?" A cool hand presses against his back.

How did Vova get in? Graves looks over and the door's lock has been broken. Vova has stripped down and he's now getting into the shower. Graves just lets himself be held once Vova is in as he sobs into Vova's chest. He just wants to be happy but it feels like that's an impossible task. 

"Promise me you love me?"

"I love you, Phillip Graves. I'll be your perfect husband now. No more tears, my love." 

Vova washes them both. He coos and shushes Graves whenever a new cry or whimper comes out of him. Graves just lets him touch wherever he wants. It does surprise him slightly that Vova isn't taking advantage of him in this state. He doesn't squeeze Graves or pull his hair. It's still sweet the way he touches him, rubbing and humming with every new motion, but it doesn't feel sexual. Vova isn't trying to fuck him in the shower. He's just looking after him. 

He's being a good husband. 

They shuffle out of the shower eventually. Vova dries them both and he dresses Graves in a silky black nightdress. Graves takes it off and heads to the bedroom. He finds some plaid pyjama pants and a grey t-shirt. They feel itchy compared to the soft and high-quality fabrics Vova dresses him in but it's far more acceptable for his dad to see. Vova huffs and Graves holds in the urge to snap. 

"My dad will arrive here at the asscrack of dawn to see me. If I'm in a nightdress he'll think you're forcing some fetish onto me."

"But you look so pretty in it."

"Yeah you need to keep the fetish shit to yourself. He already hates you for being you. I don't need to deal with the pervert angle."

"I'm not a pervert!"

"So the idea of me in that little nightdress doesn't get you hard? Splayed out on the bed with it riding up to expose my ass in lace panties you bought?"

Vova groans and looks down. His hardening cock is fighting against his boxers. "Point taken but when he leaves I'm dressing you up again."

"Sure whatever. Can I go to sleep now?"

"Of course." Vova gets into bed and gently pulls Graves with him. He wraps them up under the covers and leads Graves to rest on his chest. "I'll keep you safe from your wicked father."

Graves would retort the only wicked person here is Vova but he decides against it. There are better fights to pick. "Sure. Goodnight."

"You don't want to help me?"

"With what?"

Vova guides a hand to his erection. He slips Graves' hand under the thin cotton fabric of his underwear. "Please?"

"I'm not letting you fuck me."

"Use your hand then. It's better when you get me off than myself."

Graves pulls his hand out, "No. I'll help you with your dick when you make it up to me." He turns to face away from Vova. "Goodnight." 

Vova whispers in his ear, "You know you like to make me feel good. Just this once?"

"Fuck off. Go fuck a hole in the ground if you're that desperate." 

He huffs, "Fine. I'll deal with it myself. Goodnight baby."

"Just let me sleep." 

Chapter Text

"Lip!"

Graves is barely able to lift up his head before the bedroom door bursts open. Illuminated by the daylight streaming through from behind, Graves' father stands in the doorway.

"Who the fuck is waking us up?" Vova opens his eyes and sits up. Graves sees his mouth pull up into a grin, "Oh hello Agent Adler."

A gun cocks. Graves clambers out of bed and stands on it. His ankle doesn't agree with the sudden movement but it doesn't matter. He creates a barrier between his father and Vova with his body.

"Dad, can we talk?"

"Lip, move. That's an order."

"Please?"

His dad squints, "Are you wearing a goddamn ring?"

"That's what I want to talk to you about."

"Phil, what did he force you into?"

"Nothing! I accepted of my own free will."

"What the fuck did you to my son?"

"Dad please." Graves gets off the bed and grabs his dad by the hands. "Please."

"Fine."

They shuffle out of the room and into the kitchen. His dad doesn't put the safety on the gun but Graves isn't too surprised. He hugs his dad tightly like he might slip through his fingers like sand. His dad returns it with the same grip strength.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, kid." His dad pulls back his head without letting go, "What happened, Lip?"

"We fell in love."

"The whole story."

"We met - "

His dad cuts him off, "I know you were kidnapped in exchange for your men."

"He offered me a sexual relationship in exchange for not torturing me. It was supposed to be only sex but he fell in love with me."

"You've known him for like two weeks! Why are you fucking engaged?"

"Well his reasoning was that if we got married then you couldn't keep me away from him. You can't seperate a man from his husband as easily as you can a guy from his boyfriend."

Lying to a CIA agent is a bold choice. Lying to his dad is even bolder.

"Are you in love with him?"

"I've never felt this way about another man before."

That one isn't a lie. Graves really has never felt this way about another man - or really another person - like he does Vova. Whether it's love, lust, hate, or a strange cocktail of all three, nobody except Vova makes him feel like this.

"You happy?"

"About as happy as it gets in this line of work."

"Lip..."

"Yes. I'm happy. I'm back with my boys."

"He treats you well?"

"We've had some ups and downs. He's promised to be better to me now."

He nods, "I can't stay long but I have arrangements in place."

"Arrangements?"

"Don't worry about it. Just make your old man some breakfast will you?"

"Seriously?"

"I came all this way!"

"Fine, fine."

Graves sets about making some breakfast. Will Vova leave the bedroom? He probably won't because of the rational fear of being shot. However, Vova can't hide in there forever. Whatever his dad has arranged to ensure his safety, it is going to be something that will also piss off Vova. They'll need to discuss plans of action for it sooner rather than later.

Vova does appear. He's dressed in a suit with his hair combed. Vova sidles up to Graves and presses a kiss to his cheek. 

"Hello love. Do I get breakfast?"

"Of course, Vova." He fixes him up a plate of bacon and eggs. One of the Shadows must have stocked up the fridge last night when he was asleep.

Vova sits opposite Graves' father. He smiles and starts eating his breakfast. Graves makes himself a coffee and sits next to Vova.

His dad sets his gun on the table. So that's how this is going to go then.

"Makarov."

"Mister Adler. May I call you Russell?"

"Go to hell."

"Dad!"

He sighs and relents, "No, you can't call me that."

"Very well. You may call me Vladimir if you wish."

"Look Makarov," his father points his fork at him, "I don't know what the fuck you've done to Lip or what you're planning. However, he seems happy for now."

"He is. I will never harm your son."

His dad looks at him then back to Vova, "You are on thin fucking ice. If you even look at him the wrong way whilst I'm here then I will not hesitate to shoot you."

"Of course. I expect no less from an American."

Graves digs his heel into Vova's foot. He needs to be nice and not insult Graves as well through his insults towards his dad.  Graves sips his coffee and Vova grips onto his thigh. He removes his heel and smiles at his dad, "How was the mission?"

"Fine. Minimal loss of life. How was your little romantic getaway?"

"Good. A nice country house with French windows. It felt like a dream."

His dad rolls his eyes but smiles warmly, "You did always want to live in a house like that."

"Oh?" Vova looks at him.

"Yeah." Graves shrugs. He doesn't want to go into any dreams from his childhood. If Vova learns that he actually did want to be a little househusband - mainly from a phase in his teenage years where working really did not seem interesting - then Graves will never hear the end of it.

His dad gets up, "Let's go for a walk, Lip."

"Graves twisted his ankle. I'd hate for him to put himself in more pain."

"How did you do that?"

"I fell through some rotting wood. It was an old house and one of the untouched rooms had rotten floors."

"Right..." His dad just nods. His phone rings and he looks at the screen, "I'll let you see your boys. They're like puppies on cocaine at the moment. Seeing you might calm them the fuck down."

"Yeah I will." Graves gives him a smile. He walks past his dad and sneaks a glance at the caller ID. It's a callsign.

Who the hell is Watcher One?

Vova walks beside him as Graves heads to his office. The Shadows are exactly how his dad described: puppies on cocaine. They're vibrating in spot when they spot him. All of them are waiting near his office. Danny is there as well and he beams at Graves.

"Commander!"

"Everything alright?"

"Fuck it."

Danny grabs Graves and drags him from Vova. He hugs him tight and the other Shadows join in. Graves does his best to reach around in order to pat each one on the back. How many Shadows does he have?

Eventually there are simply too many men and he falls onto the floor when one Shadow knocks him off balance. Graves lets out a laugh as his back hits the ground. It definitely isn't a good idea to cause himself more pain but for his boys he'll do anything. He did suck Vova's cock just to keep them safe after all.

"Love?" Vova calls out.

"I'm fine!" He wraps an arm around the Shadow on top of him.

"Make them get off of you. My wife should not be on the floor."

"Wife?" Danny gets up from the cuddle pile and the other Shadows follow suit. "Why is he calling you that?"

"I like it?" Graves answers in a quiet voice. How will this go?

"Oh okay. You like want to be a girl?"

"No. Still Phillip Graves - just like being called that."

"Okay. Do you have to be his wife?"

"Yeah. I love him and all that." Graves holds his hand up. Vova is the one who helps him up. He uses the moment to kiss Graves then brings his ring finger up to his lips.

Vova kisses the ring band, "Your commander is my wife. I imagine that would make you his mother then, no?" He laughs.

Nobody else laughs.

Graves just looks back at his boys, "So how has training been?"

All of them suddenly don't want to look at him. They shuffle around. The Shadows might as well be kids who stayed up past their bedtime with the babysitter than grown men and soldiers.

"Actually," one Shadow called Jackson speaks up, "we're starting a new training regiment today. Right guys?"

They all chorus out, "Yep yep!" The Shadows immediately disappear to start this brand new training regiment.

Graves looks at Vova, "Don't call me that in front of my dad."

"Why not? Your Shadows accept it."

"Fetish thing. He's got something planned and I can't deal with both at the same time."

"What plans?"

"I don't know yet. We need to figure that out."

"We?"

"Yes, we. You're in this with me."

Vova grins and pecks his cheek, "Together."

Chapter Text

Graves decides to watch the Shadows train. They're using the same training regiment they were before Graves got kidnapped. One of them brings a folding chair for him to sit on. Vova stands next to him like he's Graves' Doberman. 

"Don't I get a chair?"

"No."

"Now now, darling, let's not argue in front of our children."

Jackson yells over, "We're only Graves' kids!"

"Soon you will be my children too."

Another Shadow protests, "Nuh uh!"

Graves sighs, "Vova, don't argue."

"My apologies. Do you need anything from our home?"

"I'm fine."

"How is your ankle?"

"It hurts if I put pressure on it." This is the most inane conversation. It feels like he's talking to a robot. Graves doesn't want Vova to be pissed off or yelling but this whole gentle soul act is making his skin crawl. He almost misses the edge Vova usually has. 

"I will go get you painkillers." Vova leaves. Graves can even hear him humming some tune.

If he doesn't get bent over or thrown onto their bed soon, Graves might go insane. Where is the Vova that treats him like a slut and praises him for it? This may be slightly Graves' fault for wanting him to the best husband and not specifying he still wants that edge, but also Vova should probably be able to figure that out by himself. 

A Shadow slips off from training and follows after Vova. Graves would protest and tell them to get back to training but he decides to just act like he didn't see them leave. It's not a fight worth having with either Vova or his Shadows. 

Vova returns with Graves' dad and the Shadow in tow. There's a scowl on his face that Graves knows means Vova was questioned by one of them. He does have painkillers and a bottle of water though. Both are handed to Graves and Vova kisses him. 

"Have you eaten?"

"I had breakfast, remember?"

"You had a coffee." Vova reaches into a pocket. 

His dad pulls out a gun and every Shadow immediately looks over. Vova rolls his eyes and pulls a granola bar. He opens it up and holds the bar to his mouth. 

Graves bites it and chews. He swallows it down and takes another bite. Vova takes the bottle from him then opens it up before holding it up to Graves' lips. Graves drinks as the bottle is tilted back slightly. Vova grins then takes away the bottle. 

"Stick your tongue out."

"No." 

"Why not?"

"I can do it myself." Graves takes the bottle of water. He puts the pills on his tongue then chugs his water, the pills going down as he swallows. 

His dad gags, "Is the PDA over now? I think I might be sick." 

"Can I not show your son love and affection?" 

"In private." 

"Dad..."

"I don't want to fucking see it, Lip. Keep that shit to your bedroom."

Vova asks with a smile, "Are you homophobic, Mister Adler?"

His dad splutters, "No!"

"Graves, darling, may we talk somewhere private? I feel a little uncomfortable discussing our relationship in front of someone so unaccepting."

"I'm not homophobic!"

Graves gets up, "Sure. I've been meaning to talk to you anyways. Let's go to my office." He looks at the Shadows and his dad, "Alone."

They walk off together. Graves doesn't want to cause an arguement but he cannot handle this sweetheart act as a full time thing. 

The moment Graves shuts and locks the door, he gets pulled into Vova's arms.

"I fucking hate your father."

"The feeling is mutual."

"Can't have my fucking wife how I want you. You should be dressed how I want. Your bastard father is watching me like a hawk. Your fucking Shadows don't respect me."

"I know. Soon. Just please don't antagonise them. My boys will warm up to you."

"And your father?"

"Oh he'll hate you until the day he dies."

"Then perhaps I should speed that along."

"No. Please. He's all I got of my family."

"He's in my way."

"Please Vova. Not my dad or my Shadows. Hurt me if you want to but not them."

Vova presses his forehead against Graves' own, "I won't hurt you or them."

"Vova?"

"Yes love?"

"This whole sweetheart act..."

"Yes?"

"Can we keep it only public?"

"I thought you wanted me to be better."

"I do but I like when you're rough. Just not all the time."

"What do you want right now?" Vova runs a thumb over Graves' scar. "A sweet angel or a mischievous devil?"

"Devil."

Vova pushes Graves against his desk. He leans over Graves, forcing him to lay back on the desk, and he forcefully kisses Graves. His hands quickly end up on Graves' shirt and he starts unbuttoning it. 

"My beautiful wife. I'm going to burn all of these shirts. You won't need to work anymore. Just be my pretty little thing."

"Yes Vova." Graves reaches up and cups Vova's right cheek. "You're my handsome husband."

Vova's hands stop moving. He places them on either side of Graves' head and just stares at him. 

"Say that again."

"You're my handsome husband?" Isn't that what Vova would want to hear? Graves believes it. Vova is a very handsome man. 

"Again."

"You're my handsome husband."

Vova moves off of him. Graves sits up and looks at him. Did he say something wrong? 

"You want me."

"Yeah."

"This is what you want? Me?"

"Yes."

Vova quickly gets on top of him again, "I will kill any man who looks at you wrong. I will skin them for touching you. You are mine."

"I am yours."

He pulls Graves into a kiss. It's rough and messy as Vova starts biting his bottom lip. Graves moans like a whore and secures his legs around Vova's waist. 

"I love you. I love you."

"I love you too." Graves grabs one of Vova's hands. He moves it to his throat. "Choke me."

His fingers press into the sides of Graves' neck. Graves' eyes roll back as he slowly loses oxygen. Vova tightens his grip slightly.

"Tap twice when you need me to let go." 

Graves nods. He lets out a gasping moan and he can feel himself hardening in his jeans. His head is getting light and it feels euphoric. 

"Do you like this? Do you like me having your life in my hands?"

He nods again.

"Say it."

"Yes."

"Properly."

"Yes daddy." Graves taps Vova's arm twice. Vova lets go and Graves takes in a deep breath. 

"That's it. Good girl. Nice and slow."

"Fuck that felt so good..."

There's a knock on the door. Both of them let out annoyed groans. The shocked look on Vova's face makes Graves chuckle. He gets up off the desk, buttons up his shirt, and opens the door. 

Danny is at the door. He sticks his head in and glares at Vova before looking at Graves. 

"Is everything alright?" Graves asks. 

"Fine. We were worried about you."

"I'm fine. About to do all the paperwork that's piled up."

"With him in here?"

"Considering the paperwork is about you and the others getting kidnapped by him, it might be useful."

"You didn't do it?"

"I was more focused on getting you back."

"His men want orders."

Vova speaks up, "They should train as well. Spar with each other and any Shadows willing."

Danny looks at Graves who nods. "Tell them that, Danny. I will come have lunch with you all later. Okay?"

"Alright. Commander. Makarov." Danny leaves. 

Vova shuts the door, "We're having lunch with them?"

"I am. You can eat by yourself if you really want to."

"I want to eat with you."

"Then we're eating with my Shadows."

He rolls his eyes, "Very well." Vova sits in Graves' chair, "Let us do your paperwork then."

"Do I have to sit on your lap?"

"You can sit on my cock if you really want to."

"I'll take your lap." Graves sits on Vova's lap and grabs the paperwork he had previously discarded weeks ago. 

Vova's hands end up on Graves' hips, "No longer in the mood?"

"Not right now. Maybe tonight you'll get lucky. If you behave."

"I'll be a good dog, love."