#RYE do you ask?

[ruthytwoshakes]

LOAFETTE!!! She!! Love <333

Aww how LOAFable,, she’s gonna make me RYE. Seeing her was a LOAF-changing experience. I know this isn’t the best fanart but I DOUGH what I can,,. Oh man I’m really on a ROLL okay yeah I’m done

Anyway go check out @gofishgo their stuff is so epic it’s crazy!! Also very green!!!! So cool B))

#do I like dad jokes? #RYE do you ask? #It’s a shame that bread puns are always so CRUMBY #no more #no more of this #daffys drawings #tf2

[micamicster]

Hi! Do you have any romcom (movie) recs? I feel like i hypothetically like the genre, but have a lot of trouble finding ones i enjoy. So many romcoms feel so formulaic (in a dead way) and misogynistic and stale to me. I think they’re a lot easier to do well in the context of a series because there’s actually time to build. Recently i thought rye lane and fire island were fun. I like kdramas when i have the time for all the episodes because i appreciate the build. I need chemistry— people who both convincingly like each other and seem like actual human beings. I thought you might have some good ideas! Thanks <3

HELLO LARGE VOICED ANON <3

I hope you weren't waiting on my recs all day haha i have been. hm. hungover af <3 (i'm going to leave kdramas off this list for now but if you would like specific recs for kdrama romcoms send me another ask and i can try to do them justice!)

I think this is a genre with underrated range! So one thing that I find very interesting about the genre of romcoms is that I think there tends to be a split between romcoms whose goal is, like, to be a fun lighthearted movie with a central romance, vs romcoms whose goal is to Say Something About Love in the vehicle of a funny movie. Both of these categories are represented on this list but for giggles i will not be saying which i think are which <3

anyway recs under the cut <3 i will link my tags for these movies if you want to take a look but be warned for spoilers ofc

I think for your purposes my primary rec would be Lovesick (aka Scrotal Recall). It's a (short) tv show so it would likely give you the chance to get to know the characters and see a slower build. In contrast to the frustration you've had with some more "formulaic" romcoms the writing in this show is very deliberately in conversation with romcoms of the past. Also it's just one of my favorite romcoms ever made so I rec it to everyone. The premise is that a young man, Dylan, is diagnosed with chlamydia and instructed to tell his past partners. Being a hopeless romantic (emphasis on hopeless), he decides to try to turn this into an opportunity to revisit relationships that didn't work out, and try to figure out where he's been going wrong. Two simultaneous storylines play out in each episode, the flashbacks to the exes (and breakups) and the present, where Dylan's best friend is getting married.

Older romcoms: When Harry Met Sally (ive heard this is divisive? but idc its SO funny and so well made), Moonstruck (a romantic-comedy in the operatic sense. also cher <3), The Philadelphia Story (katharine hepburn the woman u r. tw for a classic 1940s gag about punching ur wife in the face), Bringing Up Baby (screwball comedy my beloved), Roman Holiday (audrey hepburn is lethally charming in this movie), Dirty Dancing (someday ill write something this good and then You Will Realize), Much Ado About Nothing (i tend to enjoy either the danielle brooks shakespeare in the park version or the classic tennant/tate combo)

Teen romcoms: 10 things I hate about you (young heath ledger and young julia stiles ur welcome), to all the boys i;ve loved before (lana condor is ADORABLE), The Half of It (my other favorite sort-of romcom of the decade)

More recent-ish: Speed (like its keanu and sandra what more do you want), Strictly Ballroom (i used to watch this literally weekly as a child and I WAS RIGHT TO), Miss Congeniality (sandra bullock what u did for us all <3), Fire Island (thank u 4 my LYFE), The sandra bullock/channing tatum movie that came out last year (i forget what its called but he's so funny in it), Mamma Mia AND Mamma Mia Here We Go Again (beautiful greek islands, abba, cher, what more can you ask for?)

Indian/bollywood: Jab We Met (after dramatically quitting his job, Local Man somehow ends up escorting a woman he meets on the train while she attempts to elope with her boyfriend. aka classic screwball comedy heroine and Guy She Dragged Along For The Ride), khabie khushi khabi gham (multiple generations of romance and family drama featuring Kajol, the Most Beautiful Woman In the World), Band Baaja Baaraat (two wedding planners fall in love--great choice if you want to watch idiots ambushed by their feelings)

Other tv recs: Selfie (john cho and karen gillian in a show canceled far too soon)

#hi anon thanks for the ask! there is a wide range on this list but im sure other people have their own recs too < #I absolutely second fire island as being excellent its one of my fave romcoms of the last decade for sure! #Haven't watched rye lane yet but it looks fun too #also the fast and the furious. who said that? #also this is a depressingly white list sorry about that. maybe i should have put kdramas on here but i didn't do a lot of tv? #oh well its too late now #feel free to ask me about kdramas if you want! happy to talk about them too!

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

Wigfrid Characterization: Attitude Towards Maxwell

Ok. I've been seeing this trend time and time again for years now and I'm finally bringing it up bc. idk I do what I want.

While it is understandable to assume from an outward perspective that Wigfrid- a morals-obsessed, overly heroic, walking monologue of a norse angel- would hold an intense amount of spite and hatred towards Maxwell after all he's done... canonically, that simply. isn't the case.

And it's strange! It's certainly strange! But it's also fascinating! And I think it harps on a very interesting part of her character that no one thinks as frequently about: so long as Wigfrid considers you a friend, she will hold an astronomical fondness for you. Wigfrid loves her friends, and Maxwell is her friend.

In regards to Maxwell's old statues- by far the easiest way to compare the cast's opinions on him- almost none of the other survivors have anything nice to say about him (Woodie claims he'll use it as fodder to poke fun, Willow just flat out insults him, WX implies his ineptitude, you get the point).

There are only three characters out of the expansive cast of 17 who have anything genuinely good to say about them- even despite the circumstances and the statue's previous associations: - Wickerbottom, who has a pre-established relationship with Maxwell, both being magic wielders who seem interested in each others' crafts - Wolfgang, who- while not as obviously as Wicker- has a fondness and relationship with Maxwell that surpasses that of the other survivors - And guess who else. Wigfrid.

And I see far more interpretations that harp on the first two's bonds with the magician (though admittedly not as much with Wolfgang as he probably deserves) than I've ever seen with Wigfrid! I think because it's so easy to assume that she wouldn't ever give him a second chance. But really when you take a step back and look at what she has to say, she's incredibly generous with him.

Maxwell is the only survivor in the game she will specifically greet with the title of 'ally'. Almost as if she's trying to convince him that she's being genuine. She makes a constant and noticeable effort to remind him that she's a friend to him. An asset. An ally.

When he does something that isn't morally abhorrent, and when she speaks of his goodness, she phrases it in such a specific way. The kindness buried within his heart. As if to imply she believes it's been there from the start- that she or anyone else could simply help dig it out into the open again.

Even when she's playfully ribbing at him (which, lets be honest, everyone should to do because it's fun and he deserves it), she still keeps his health and wellness in mind. Of all people to make stronger- to trust with physical power and fighting prowess- she's willing to bestow it to Maxwell. The same Maxwell who kept her trapped in that place, gloating and sneering and sending hoard after hoard of mind numbingly horrifying beasts to kill her in indescribable ways.

She trusts him. She likes him. She wants to bring out the good in him. She's here for his redemption arc. She's actively making an effort for him. Its unhealthy to pit theater kids against each other for the love of god please they're the only two left in the Constant* let them have this-

#dst #dontstarvetogether #dst wigfrid #dst maxwell #i was talking abt this two weeks ago but i'm thinking abt it again so i'm making it everyone else's problem #*CHARLIE DOESN'T COUNT AS A THEATER KID.... ok she does but like. she'll kill them both so. #not much engagement to be had there #I just think it's such a shame that every fic I see w/ wig & max in it breaks her down to 'woman who kills people wants to kill this guy' #it's UNDERSTANDABLE but it's SO much more interesting to think about their parallels and friendships #it really is just me and rye against the world every day of my life in my stupid little brain huh. rye if ur reading this hii bestie hiii #rye if youre reading this this is giving me sooooo many concepts ask me abt them (ONLY.... if you AREN'T doing work. otherwise do ur work)

[pointsfortrying]

FABLES END.

     My contribution for the TF2 Big Bang! Mostly drawn by hand with the Demobot being an SFM edit fdskljds,,, But a lil pretend comic cover  ( inspired by Mike Mignola’s Hellboy cover art )  in honor of @/someonehasto’s fic “Fables End” on Archive of Our Own! If you like TF2 and you like Demosolly, the vibes pop off so absolutely go check it out and leave them some kudos & a comment!

#tf2bigbang #tf2 #demosolly #boots and bombs #rye draws #was fun to work on! went out of my usual comfort zone but learned a couple of things along the way #never ask me to try and draw a robot. you do NOT want to see the doodle plinko of all the failed attempts b4 i ran out of time and gave up #fsdkljsdl #but hell ye cheers @ hank archie ren aifas mich lithe and if anyone else worked on them as well #and cheers @ fellow artists n writers! wish i could've talked more with yall but the timing was poor for me pensive #starting university... requires work.... fked up #sdkljsd #speaking of time to speedrun the essay due tonight that i havent started yet haha shit-

[cptnbeefheart]

i felt like i read a lot of books last year and its true that i read more than most years but i think i literally only read 3 1/2 books. reading is something ive always really struggled with and i think it has to do with needing to be like super hyperfocussed. idk i feel like if im not retaining and acknowledging the absolute most detail that i absolutely can then im wasting time. so I go pretty slowly and take plenty of notes to reference when i don't quite understand something mentioned in passing that happened chapters ago . and if i dont take a day or two between reading to absorb everything i feel overwhelmed. the notes help with my memory issues or putting everything together in my head. anyway ive always been super insecure about it and it probably sounds like no fun and too much work to everyone else and well it is a lot of work. which is what draws me to it and also discourages me. anyway pointless post im just saying it requires so much effort to me and i think its mostly due to myself and not the learning disabilities LOL. i heard once that dyslexic people tend to memorize facts because they learn information differently ironically i memorized this fact and perhaps thats why i feel like i need to get every single detail. also its just fun i really enjoy comprehensive breakdowns and literary analysis. i hope to read more this year perhaps its also a mix of not knowing what genres i prefer. vonnegut i can pick up immediately without trying as hard as other texts. i also force myself to read classics which are a bit more difficult bc i feel like i have to decode what theyre saying. ok im done now bye p[lease dont change your opinion on me im actually really self couscous (<- silly way to say self conscious ) about it

#one of my favorite things to do whebn taking notes is ask rhetorical questions and then half the book later come back and be like see maggie #you got this and here's what i (future maggie) think #all books i read for the first time i read catcher in tha rye urm jaws.. slaughterhouse. does watchmen count #i did reread the pearl steinbeck thats a short story though so. also half of bury my heart @ wounded knee and most of beastie boy book

[rye-in-a-coat]

Thoughts on our lord and saviour the Muskrat? /j

On the Moomin character?

Dude's an old man who uses his philosophy of uselessness for convinience. Some notes I have taken from his philosophy as showcased in the ムダ騒動はムダ episode:

Everything (but life itself) is useless.

Doing anything is useless but also not doing it is also useless.

Doing anything is useless but also not doing it is also useless, but some uselessness is more useless than others.

An opinion on how something useless isn't useless is therefore an useless opinion.

Everything being useless is common sense.

If a thing is useless, everything that leads to it is therefore also useless.

The destruction of stuff that is useless, exemplifies its uselessness.

On the animal?

Do you know the etymology of the word "musk"? If you follow the line of etymological origin you will find Sanskrit word "मुष्क" (muṣka) which is the diminutive of the word "मूष्" (mūṣ) which means mouse, and yes, English word "mouse" also comes from this word.

So basically "muṣka" is the word used for testicles because the shape of testicles is somehow similar to mice??? The use on musk comes from comparing musk glands to testicles. So yeah.

Ah yes, my favourite animal

The Ballsrat. The Mouserat.

#letters to rye #moomin #i do the squeaking #Thanks for the ask. You mouse !

[harryforvogue]

my camera roll is filled with pics of me crying from merely four hours ago over catcher in the rye

#HIS BABY SISTER #ASKED HIM TO NAME ONE THING HE LIKES #AND HE COUKDNT ANSWER #AND THEN SHE ASKED HIM TO NAME ONE THING HE WANTS TO DO #AND ALL HE COULD SAY WAS THAT HE’D WANT TO BE A CATCHER IN THE RYE TO SAVE KIDS BEFORE THEY WENT OVER THE CLIFF #ARE YOU FACKING KIDDING MEEEEEEEE

[luuxxart]

Are you still continuing the Earthbound fic? I loved the first chapter

oh gosh. Not to be obi wan kenobi on main but. That is not a name I have heard in a long time 🥺🥺🥺

Ok so like, I was, I really was going to continue it. And that fic is my baby. That’s like. My first born child. I was SO proud of it. So it wasn’t that I fell out of love w the series or I lost my passion for it bc . Gahhhh it was the best thing I’d come up w/ in a while. This is the fic

What happened was, the app I was writing on (My W Days bc, idk it was convenient at the time and I wasn’t really into google docs) decided that in the middle of the second chapter (I had literally written out the whole library scene where Ness gets the map and part of the Sharks stuff) it would just. Destroy half the file????? so I was like. Ok.

And I just. Never wanted to go back it made me so pissed. Left a bad taste in my mouth idk.

But idkkkkk I can’t say I won’t ever go back to it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i still have the whole fic scripted out I’m my notes and I go back and reread it sometimes lol it would’ve been 22 chapters fr

Seriously though thank you so much for having read and enjoyed the first chapter. I really wish I could’ve shared more with you 💕💕

#listen like. at the time that fic was SO important to me #writing Ness as a community college kid helped me understand my own feelings abt being a gifted kid in high school and then. #by circumstances having to go to comm college #which now I’ve been accepted to a prestigious 4 year so i guess I’m more like Porky now haha #but like. this was at the height of my love for catcher in the rye and I think it shows. ness is very holden-coded #catcher in the rye is still my favorite book I’ve read it three times. idk I just like pessimistic characters who try to be quirky lol #writing them is just so fun #i will say. something that didn’t help was that I got into persona immediately after I published the first chapter #and if i was going to finish something I’ve got some Shu/ake and Maru/dachi stuff I really need to finish up #but man . i do think abt this fic a lot and I hope to return to it someday #thank you so so much for asking about it im really glad you enjoyed it. that makes me happier than. man idk what #ask

[miserye]

Is this an American Karen thing or what because someone just gave me fucking attitude for this but I’ve literally never seen this happen in. my. entire. life.

#rye’s nonsensical polls #polls #never have I ever gone into a restaurant and ask what to do if I don’t like the soup they won’t let me sample ?? you live with it bitch #also this happened after she asked me what was in everything we had when it’s all written out on the menus I showed her #like just. read. it. #🧍‍♀️

[scorndotexe]

not to go on another catcher in the rye thing but people that like the catcher in the rye often find things in it that are so interesting, incredibly interesting things to discuss and think about and wonder about, but then i try reading the actual book again and it's still boring as shit

#anyway i actually *talked* to someone today. he likes the catcher in the rye #ghfdjksfhg hilariously this is one of the first things he asked me about #''do you read'' to ''have you read the catcher in the rye'' in like. three questions #i respect it #rip to him though hgfjdhg i find it boring as shit #unfortunately i am incapable of natural communication and i could not convey the fact that i theoretically find the book interesting #to be entirely fair i told him about fucking house of leaves in between those questions so clearly i'm doing worse on that front #hfdjskjfhg anyway done with treating tumblr tags like my journal #for the day #persimmon's rambles

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

Also,,,, ieytd,,,, what,,, is it ab / where do you recommend looking into it / starting from etc.

GRABS YOU VIOLENTLY........ that. is a really good question. questions. plural.

well. i expect you to die is a virtual reality spy simulator game that was released like. forever and ever ago in 2016. you play as an amateurish secret agent, armed with nothing more than your problem solving abilities and a telekinetic implant, and are tasked with saving the world and not getting horribly mangled in a myriad of ways.

its very fun, and the characters are very well written. i frequently see it being compared to the stanley parable on account of them sharing the strangely niche concept of having a disembodied voice tell you what to do, flipping between being your worst enemy and your best friend.

i first got into ieytd in 2017 through STFU and Play's no commentary videos, though i've found their playthroughs of the second and third game in the series feel more... cynical? i don't really know the word. it's hard to describe gameplay as cynical when the person playing literally can not talk, but that's just how i feel.

i would personally recommend Wolf in VR's playthrough, because i feel like his style of commentary is very compatible with the feel of the game. watching any of his stuff honestly feels like a miniature improv roleplay session. a lot of fun

regardless of who you watch, though, i would definitely recommend looking through them in order, starting with the first one, then spy and the liar, then cog in the machine. it isn't even that the games have a substantial amount of lore from one game to the next, it's mainly because each game improves so substantially on the last that i can't imagine going through them out of order. it just feels kind of criminal.

#ask #rye if you see it you HAVE to tell me how you like it.... #i've been meaning to do like. a puzzle deconstruction analysis on it i like it so much. for sure one of the games of all time i think

[pointsfortrying]

Okay yeah so my dad (job in tech/ai) said i was doing the same as racism (specifically regarding white @ black people) when i was trying to explain Why the whole AI thing is harming artists and just. Me, an artist, also asian who's been bullied for racism since they were born:

#rye rambles #vent #rye rants #bad vibes #no idea how tf to tag this gjskf #genuinely appalled. #@ everyone else w/ tech bros as family my absolute condolences and empathy because everytime i have this kind of conversation #i want to punch a wall #me trying to explain why artists are not happy w/ ai #my dad. an intellectual: have they tried suing :) they should try suing :) #me: explaining Why that isn't really feasible for every single god damn person affected #him: okay but have they tried suing— #just. jesus christ. #and then he deadass wonders why my sister/his daughter never talks to him lmao #genuinely how can you be so god damn dense. #apparently he plans to met the creator of c.hat g.pt bc they met at a conference thing #half tempted to ask if i could go with so i can throw a pie at his face #grits teeth. just. #he could Not wrap his head around the concept that an artist is only someone who sells art and is only a profession like. #how. how do you even Live such a bland life #art is literally what makes us human and sane and yknow maybe i do understand why tech ppl dont get it lmao. #head in god damn hands

[ardate]

Ardateeeeeee ly <3 an question: Favorite lore tidbit & random "small" fact (i.e. the way they prepare coffee or smnth) for 3 (or as many/few uvu) of your ocs?

Loves you right back <33

HMM!!

-Marc likes fruity, colorful, sweet cocktails just as much as he'll enjoy a fine liquor. Given his rough exterior, idiots who don't know him and see him order the most Over The Top Glass On Earth might give that a side eye because ew how unmanly is this-

-Perhaps not so surprisingly, Pernelle writes poetry. She seldom shows it however, as it's mostly a way for her to vent out feelings, and she does care about keeping up the appearances that she's completely and perfectly cold-headed.

-Diego learned to drive pretty young with his father - when his taxi wasn't needed, he'd get Diego to drive around parking lots to get him used to the wheel. At 14 he was already more than capable.

#asks #mine #greenport #ocs #marc #pernelle #diego cotilla #tysm for this ask rye ough!!!!! holds it so tightly #i hope you're doing good n sending you much love forever

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[hazelfoureyes]

A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

༻Masterlist༺

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #reader fic #reader imagine #x you #x reader #fem reader #smut #Reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x you #the radio demon #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel

[moondirti]

kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.

featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.

when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.

truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.

so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.

he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.

instead, he shrugs.

"not much more to tell, cap."

"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."

and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.

"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."

it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.

of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.

the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.

"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.

"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"

"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."

"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."

your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.

"and you want me to let him?"

gaz nods. "if you'd please."

you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."

he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"

"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"

"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."

kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.

you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.

sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.

price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.

he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.

"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."

"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.

"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.

"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."

gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."

"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.

but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"

"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."

"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.

"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"

"of course."

"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"

"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.

fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.

"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.

but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"

"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"

you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.

"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.

"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."

an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."

"aye. i do."

"and i wanna make him happy."

"same for me."

and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.

"so, what'll it be?" you say.

"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."

you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.

"kyle."

"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.

"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."

"yes, sir."

"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."

"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"

this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.

all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–

flip your skirt over your hips.

a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.

"no panties, hm?"

"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.

"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.

"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."

it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.

the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.

"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"

"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."

"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."

he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.

but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"

he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"

"a-at least three times a go, sir."

"what's the record?"

"eight."

"and the longest you've held off?"

kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."

"tch."

a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.

and you...

you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.

so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"

"just mine, sir. and her toys."

"how about at once?"

kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.

yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.

"one, sir."

he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."

the finger plunges in.

gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.

"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."

"sir?"

"you cum inside her, lad?"

"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."

"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."

his hand inches up.

this time, it's gaz who groans.

loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.

"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."

"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"

"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.

"yeah."

you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.

"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."

his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.

so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.

a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.

"that's a good boy."

he could really get used to this.

#unedited! #this idea's been over my ass like a symbiote #cackling and rubbing its greedy little hands together #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader x john price #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader #john price x reader #john price x kyle garrick #pricegaz #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #captain join price #john price #x reader #female reader #call of duty