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#this was genuinely a really nice one for the price!!
blarshwritezz · 2 days
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Yandere ceo × male actor reader. I imagine that the CEO is the owner of one of the biggest Hollywood agencies of all time and is a reference in entertainment, he is the cold type and gets to know you during an event.
The reader is an actor who appears in successful films and he is nice compared to the ceo.
I imagine Ceo would make indecent proposals to you and force you to marry him
Capital idea!
Yandere CEO x Actor Reader
Male yan x male reader
TW - general yandere behavior, slight NSFW abuse of power, manipulation
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"What do you say, won't you be my husband? You know what will happen if you don't..." CEO!Yan whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear as his bruising grip on your waist tightened further. Is this really what your life has come to?
You never expected anything like this to happen when you met nearly two years ago. You were at a party hosted by your company to celebrate what a success your latest movie was.
It was your first time in a lead role, and you absolutely crushed it! It was a massive success at the box office, one of the greatest hits ever produced by your agency!
The CEO even showed up, much to everyone's surprise. You've seen him in the news and on interviews, but he was much more attractive in person. But also so much more intimidating, too. You swore just one gaze from him could freeze you over.
The first time you spoke was when he congratulated you on the role. Specifically, on using that role to fill his pockets with more money. He didn't seem genuine, not at all. He even made a few remarks about how, despite the massive success, you still could have done better.
You thanked him kindly and went off to enjoy your night. You wanted to keep that as your only interaction. Keyword, wanted. With other people, you enjoyed lighthearted conversations. You made sure to remind people that seemed to be giving you a little too much credit that it wouldn't have turned out even half as good without the entire team. You enjoyed a few drinks with your team, maybe a few too many.
Having gotten tipsy and way too brave, you approached the CEO once again. You just couldn't stop staring! He was hot, and you deserved some action after all the hard work you did.
You approached him, flirting a bit. Telling him how good he looked on that custom-tailored suit.
"You know, I look much better without it." He put a hand on your waist, sliding it down and giving your ass a good squeeze. "Why don't you come spend the night at my place? I can assure you, you'll get plenty more roles like this."
And the next thing you knew, you were waking up in his bed, your ass sore from the night before. Well, more specifically, you woke up laying on his chest with one of his arms holding you in place.
That definitely made you wake up. You couldn't believe it! Did you really sleep with your boss?! Sure he was hot and, now that it was coming back to you, really good in bed, but that wasn't what was important here! What if you lose your job over this?! And right as you were really starting to get a name for yourself too.
You carefully crawled out of his arms, trying to find your clothes so you could leave. You could only hope that he wouldn't remember the events of last night.
But oh he did. Like promised, you were soon offered a role in an upcoming movie. The lead role. And with it, a little note saying the spot was guaranteed to be yours...if you just stopped by his office. And if not, he'd ruin your career...
So it became something of a routine. You got incredible roles, and all at the price of your body...in interviews and when speaking to fans, you would always be congratulated and complimented. You really were an incredible actor!
But deep down you knew that you were most likely ruining someone else's chances. There were plenty of other talented actors in this industry that were actually putting in the effort to get parts like this.
But at the same time, he'd absolutely ruin your reputation and career if you didn't do what he said. He had the power and influence to absolutely end your social life, even if you left the industry.
Slowly, your encounters became more...intimate. More loving. He'd start taking you out on genuine dates, and on some rare occasions those dates wouldn't end with him pumping you full of his seed like usual.
He'd even visit you on set! The only issue was how touchy and clingy he got. He'd glare at anyone who got too close to you, even if it was for a scene. People definitely noticed, and rumors soon spread that you two were together.
You told him to tell the truth, to let everyone know that you weren't really together. And what did he say? "Why should I deny it? You're mine, and everyone should know."
Everyone definitely knew, and slowly they all resented working with you. They knew the only reason you got so many roles was because of your relationship with him. And they all avoided you like the plague, fearing what he might do if they got too close.
It kept getting worse and worse, leading you down a spiral of self hatred. He was the reason you were getting things you didn't deserve! But he was the only one who made you feel better, holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how much you did deserve it. How much you impressed him every day.
All that leading to this moment. Him holding you close as if he hadn't just massacred your throat, all while slipping a ring on your finger.
"Remember, if you say no, you won't have me to protect you from all those awful people. You deserve the world, my dear~"
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And we got it! I don't know if you really wanted much nsfw or not, but I added some anyway.
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koisuko · 3 hours
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Imagine:
Price is home for a vacation with the love of his life, and what better to spend that time than to spoil his pretty little prince/princess.
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TW: (legal) age gap, sugar daddy Price, fem implied reader, pet names
Money had never really been an issue for Price, he made enough to get by and then some, it was just a matter of time to spend it that he had a hard time getting. An issue of who to spend it on also often came up, he had everything he needed, so why would he spend it on anything but essentials? Price was never really the materialistic type, he indulged in wants here and there, but he had far more important things to look after, aka you.
Price: check your PayPal, get yourself something nice for tonight princess. :)
He hit send, feeling a sense of pride well up in his chest, crawling up to curl his lips in a satisfied smile. Now, back to the task at hand. One final fold and it’s perfect, a neatly wrapped gift for his baby. He glanced at the clock, 4 pm, he’s still got time to kill. And he knows just how to spend that time. First things first, he needs a damn haircut. All those years in the military, he never really cared much about his appearance. Not to say he wasn’t clean, he just threw the little things out the window, opting to worry about the more important tasks at hand. However, he’s about to go on a nice date with his arm candy, to a brand new expensive restaurant.
It’s been way too long since Price even looked at the suit in his closet. Being in special forces, he never really had many romantic opportunities, nor was he interested in them. But now, he had a sweet little thing to show off. He needs to at least try to put himself together, for you of course. He wondered if the suit even still fit, or if it was still in good enough shape to wear. His thoughts were cut short by a notification on his phone.
y/n: thanks daddy, I’ll spend it well. See you tonight! ;)
Price couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across his battle hardened features, his pearly whites sparkling beneath his signature mustache. The familiar sensation of excitement bubbled beneath his skin at the response, something he rarely felt, and hasn’t for a long while aside from the adrenaline in battle. But this was a different kind of excitement, not the type that would leave him further immune to the sight of death, but the kind that made him genuinely smile.
A/N: lost motivation for this one, so here’s what I had!
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freckleslikestars · 2 years
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Nothing identifies me more as a bartender than having two fifths of my freezer taken up by glassware and vodka. Another shelf is solely ice.
#yes that’s a tequila bottle at the back there#no I’m not such a monster that I’d freeze tequila#it’s vodka in a tequila bottle because the second vodka bottle didn’t fit#also those coupes are a stupid size and shape but they’re all I could afford#they work well for things that don’t need a crema - love lemon drops in them because they have a nice big surface for a sugar rim#but esspresso martinis look shit in them - as do all cream based drinks like grasshoppers#fuck now I want a grasshopper#I also want a gin and tonic#and I have no tonic and no cream/milk so both are out of the question#I will also say the vast number of ice packs are a remnant from my ‘I’m doing eight hours of dance every day minimum’#because I used to come home and just tape ice packs to the various injuries I had instead of actually resting#gotta love toxic industries#I really jumped straight out of one and into another#also holy shit I was just reading online about what the current consensus is on vodka in the freezer and…nearly every single article cites#a business insider interview with the guy who created grey goose where he’s like ‘nooo it kills the flavour don’t put it in the freezer!’#and sir sorry to break it to you but your fucking expensive vodka tastes shit#we have a bottle at work and hardly sell any of it because it’s over priced and is one of the worst tasting vodkas we have#I’d genuinely take the shitty Chekov vodka that we use as house when we can’t get our actual house in than grey goose#grey goose is shit that rich people pretend to like because grey goose are insanely good marketers#vodka honestly isn’t meant to be complex (yeah there are some good complex vodkas - I really like źubrówka if I’m drinking it neat or over#ice) but truly…vodka is there to be a source of alcohol. if you want complex flavours then go with gin or whiskey or rum or tequila#vodka is ethanol plus water. the bison grass źubrówka obviously has a little more to it but that’s why I drink it. and if I were to have a#anyway what I’m saying is if I were to have to drink grey goose I’d definitely freeze it first. it’s such a mediocre vodka considering the £#I will also say this comes from the perspective of a cocktail bartender. I use vodka because it doesn’t have a flavour that’s gonna fuck wit#whatever fruity drink I’m making#unless I’m specifically making a vodka martini I don’t really want to think about the vodka#I just want it to be my basic more or less flavourless spirit#I did not mean to go on so much about vodka
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bee-turtle-kind · 2 years
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swim wear is. Overpriced,,,, you can also just,,,, Not have swim wear to swim I do not understand
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zoekrystall · 3 months
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I started to bash on german the better I got in english especially regarding dubs (didn't help I was a stereotypical pretentious annoying lil kid) and I am so glad it was likely really just a kid phase bc I am rewatching detective conan in german (and once I hit where they're not getting dubbed anymore I switch to sub bc I do dislike names getting anglicized and I am very glad the ger dub kept the og japanese names, exceptions when I grew up w the anglicized names) and it is so so comfy. The dub is also just plain good imo and the voices are so nice to hear again I am so glad I found a site that got shows in german (ty katrielle layton anime for apparently only being available in japanese and german and me deciding "well I can speak german so why not check it out", nice voice acting but not up my alley).
I do still usually keep away from eng by anime bc I am a sub over dub person and I find most... not that good.. but I stopped to play part in the debate bc I'm sure all VAs try their best. Not for me but if you like em I'm happy for ya. And also in ger it is hit or miss when the og language is eng do I stick to that which is usually the case. Idk if it is just my perception or if it really did but german dubs kinda worsened but who knows maybe I just catched the ones w bad production on that part (reg ops we got nice ones but I was happy to learn others learned abt the one we got for naturo bc. yeah). Like purely anime speaking I think the cartoons and shows on tv are fine. Minus julien bam as sonic in the movies I still can't get over that but no hate towards him I just find the youtuber as voice actor thing always baffling no matter which language (also dislike the celebrity bias in every country. yes that person is famous but do they actually fit that role + voice acting and actor require different skill sets).
I think I started to bash so much on ger bc "og language always better" and sometimes yeah and I do watch if possible in the og w subs so nothing gets lost (that doesn't have to) but where that opinion makes a turn for the worse is if you start to become pretentious about it and everyone who chooses another option is somehow worse than you. Counts for every opinion that obv isn't debating human life. Honestly I adore polls but that's also why people need to zip it with their snarky comments in the answers or also on quizzes, I do have to admit those where op smacks (right answer) or smth on the one that almost no-one clicked on are funny to see though. A bit of banter is fine imo but there are some that are just really not necessary.
Anyways it is kinda funny how I thought one piece would surely get me into anime again bc I do adore it since like kindergarten and it'll forever be in my heart but nope detective conan it is. Ig the aspect of finding out together who the culprit might be is fun next to being able to do other things meanwhile bc I don't have to read. I think I got into conan at age 14? 15? Feels like decades ago though. I don't think I really understood why others rewatch things until now. Like I got it like yeah comfort but not the extend. I always tried not to rewatch bc "I got so much stuff I can't waste time with the same" (<- has replayed okami a lot on wii and now switch while having gaming backlog since forever, replayed bratz the movie on ps2 almost yearly as kid, etc) but I luckily start to go into "who cares" mode fully and it's really nice. I truly get it now.
#a wild lux appears#I wouldn't be surprised if I got a thing w newer anime dubs in ger like english speakers got w eng ones#Esp bc I think we both say the ones we grew up w are good but as soon as subs got found it changed. Idk.#Tho I have to say I did start to genuinely prefer the sub over the ger dub by pkmn and I did grew up w it. Nothing wrong w the ger one tho.#That one is however a example as to why I started w purely sub if not nostalgia watch bc dubs change stuff and I don't like that#Thinking abt a post a mutual rb w 'how it feels to read conan' w everyone just going blabla#Meanwhile I go 'ah yes that is logical' or already had similar thoughts#Sorry I'm not one of y'all I get how shinichi thinks#I think the only thing I had that was when that dude calculated the size of a room and then water pressure or smth.#I like math but I do not have how you do that ingrained in my brain. Such calculations are my nightmare I like other stuff.#No shade to those that only understand blabla tho happy you like such media nonetheless#Anyways reg the last part I still really wanna replay that bratz game once again idk it's just nice#Need to see how to plug my ps2 into that tv#Now that I think abt it that game prob kickstarted my fashion game love huh#I had that bratz game I had barbie dolls I didn't know anything abt the discourse abt either until I started to watch darling dollz#Good channel btw even as a non collector.#But ye doubt my parents knew anything either but they luckily just gave me anything and everything if asked unless price too high#Oh I also got monster high dolls n some movies as dvd. Clawdeen is and stays fav. Why would I put them against eachother.#Anyways I just woke up I should get up
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audisive · 15 days
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♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.
tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold
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       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.
It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).
The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.
Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.
There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–
"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.
You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.
"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.
You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."
"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.
"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.
"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.
"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"
Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.
Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.
Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.
(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)
Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."
"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.
"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.
"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."
There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."
"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."
The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.
On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.
He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.
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homunculus-argument · 6 months
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Fascinating to notice how often you can save yourself a lot of stress and grief by simply double-checking that you and other people mean the same thing when you're talking about things. My partner has often voiced his desire to get the fuck out of society and civilisation and move in the middle of nowhere to grow potatoes and hunt game for meat in a little red hut in the woods. I told him that alright, but just as a heads-up I'm pretty sure that while he would survive, I'd probably straight-up fucking die out there.
And today we were looking up woodland properties around the country, just to generally get some kind of a picture of what size the ones for sale are, and what kind of prices they're going in, and ended up finding an affordable one that'd be in the absolute dead centre middle of complete wilderness, and he remarked that yeah, that's too isolated. I was genuinely confused, too isolated? Wasn't he just specifically looking for the most desolate corner of backwoods where he could live without ever seeing society again, totally off-grid, returning to hunter-gatherer and not having anyone find his mummified corpse for decades if not centuries after he dies out there? After we die out there, that is.
He was baffled that I had honest-to-god thought that he had meant "absolute middle of nowhere out of reach of society of any kind" when he said he wants to get away from society. This whole time, he had meant "nice little rural place where people don't end up by accident (but still a reasonable drive's away from the nearest grocery store)", and not literally dead middle of nowhere. This whole time he had thought that when I said "okay but I will probably die", it meant that I would wither and die of misery like a näkki on dry land if he took me into a city smaller than 50,000 people. And this whole time I had thought that he really meant to take us we-will-literally-die-out-here Out There kind of out-of-society.
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sugoi-and-spice · 3 months
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Vox Relationship Headcanons
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Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!
(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).
SFW
It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.
That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 
A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.
When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.
Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.
Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.
Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.
And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.
When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 
Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.
The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.
A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.
And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.
This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.
NSFW
BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.
“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.
Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.
“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”
He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.
On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.
Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.
Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.
He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.
Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.
On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 
LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.
I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.
He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.
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gravesbf · 11 months
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request 🚨
Hey there, just thinking about how the 141 + Vaqueros would react to (reader) wearing one of their big shirts, perhaps only with underwear underneath, maybe not even that. 👀 I’m not particular about the gender of (reader) insert so whatever is cool.
guess who's my fav after this 🙏 also ill def do the vaqueros in a p.2 i just have a big headache 😿 <3 enjoy fr
cw: suggestive themes 😟 , gn reader (no specified genitalia yw)
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simon "ghost" riley:
☆ genuinely doesn't mean to leave his clothes around your house, he thinks that they're a bit too .. "ghost" for you
☆ that being said, he loves the ghost look on you. in general starts clinging to your waist when you have anything of his on, especially any long sleeves he has
☆ underwear on or not man is between your thighs, this is the definition of oral fixation . i don't make the rules
☆ he likes leaving marks that most can't see, but absolutely loves the marks that everyone else will see. your relationship with him may not be the most out there, but he loves having ppl know that you're somebody's and not theirs
john "soap" mactavish:
☆ actually the exact opposite of ghost, subtly leaves clothes around for you to wear. the kind of guy to hint at it too
☆ "hey haha did yk that my shirts are reallyyyy comfortable .. 👁" is ecstatic when you actually do wear his clothes, but doesn't show his excitedness until you end up in his lap
☆ this guy is literally the most waist/hip guy ive ever seen, his hands are up your shirt grabbing at anything he can. leaves small bruises from his fingers digging in a lot
☆ tries not to leave any marks that can't be hidden by the shirt, being visible is nice to him but knowing that they're in other places that people can't see is what rlly gets him
kyle "gaz" garrick:
☆ doesn't really think about you in his clothes until it actually happens, he tends to be a lot more reserved in sexual aspects unless it's actually time to do it
☆ he realizes his love for his clothes on you when it's the morning after a welcome home gift. you wearing his shirt + underwear is his favorite thing now
☆ this is the real freak within him 😿 he wraps his arms around you and tries to sweet talk you into more rounds, stares you down while you make him eat before more
☆ accidental biter, leaves bite marks all over your chest and neck when you let him under the shirt. he's lost in the sauce now
john price:
☆ i said this before and ill say it again, old man rizz ‼️‼️ he's open about a lot of things with you, including how he likes you wearing his clothes
☆ adores and borderline worships you whenever you indulge him. is instantly all over you when you're in just his shirt, even more pleased by the lack of everything else
☆ biggest tease ever though, can't help but deny any direct contact until you're either begging or about to slap that dumb hat off his head
☆ not really intense marker but biting is his thing, the occasional deep bite mark on your inner thigh or just right under your ribcage are his favorite places
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4K notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 1 month
Note
Okay but cold!Reader being hit on at a bar during a team outing and Spencer over hears her turning the person down only to be called a rude bitch maybe he doesn’t realize he CAN be assertive when he defends her and even she’s like ???? Where’d that come from?
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BACKUP [ONESHOT]
/ˈbækˌʌp/
some men are assholes who only care about their own gratification, and some men are spencer reid.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, alcohol, ‘nice guy’ character, misogyny, lots of swearing
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.1k || series masterlist!!
a/n: genuinely hated the douchebag dude so much i had to take multiple breaks whilst writing this 😭
main masterlist!!
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The bar was bathed in a warm, golden glow courtesy of the overhead lighting, a faint aroma of aged oak mingled with the rich scent of brewing coffee creating an inviting atmosphere. The air hummed with the gentle murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and laughter.
Behind the polished mahogany bar, shelves adorned with an impressive array of spirits gleamed in the dim light, the bartenders weaving amongst each other with practised ease, expertly crafting cocktails and pouring drinks for the patrons seated along the bar stools. “What can I get for ya?”
“I’ll get an espresso martini and a mint mocktail, thanks,” You lean your elbows against the top of the bar, leaning forward on them as the bartender gives you a nod, obviously satisfied with your taste in drinks.
You couldn’t entirely agree with her. Espresso martinis were great, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that out of every flavour he could’ve possibly chosen, Spencer wanted a mint mocktail. You understood the no alcohol part, that fit Spencer’s personality to a T, but mint? Really?
You didn’t have much time to question Spencer’s taste in drinks as somebody bumps into your side, and you shift over slightly to make room for them at the front of the bar. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to bump you like that,”
The guy gives you a small smile as an apology, and you wave it off with a small shake of your head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it,”
“One espresso martini, and one mint mocktail,” The bartender returns with your two drinks in hand, setting them on the bar in front of you with a smile. “That’ll be 32 dollars, cash or card?” Curse Washington DC and their ridiculously extortionate drink prices.
“Cash-” You grab your wallet out of your pocket to pull out the notes needed, only to be stopped by the stranger that’d bumped into you pushing your hands gently into your lap.
“Let me cover it for you,” He holds his hand out towards the bartender, card poised between his index and middle finger.
“No it’s fine-” You’re mildly caught off guard by the stranger’s immediate willingness to pay for your drinks, shaking your head as you try to move his hand away from the bar. He doesn’t listen.
“Take it as an apology for bumping into you,”
“Really it’s fine-” He cuts you off with a small ‘shush’ as he gestures for the bartender to take the card, which she does after a few seconds of prompting.
“…Thank you,” Your thanks feels a little forced from your end, not exactly thrilled at his insistence even if it did just save you 32 dollars that could then be spent on more drinks later. You know it was supposed to be a nice gesture, but the way that he ignored your refusal and then continued to shush you afterwards left a sour taste in your mouth.
“Anything for a pretty lady,” He gives you a small wink as he leans against the bar, turning his attention back towards the bartender before she can leave. “Two full pint craft beers, make it quick sweetheart,”
You and the bartender share a glance at his wording, a silent confirmation that you weren’t the only one getting an off feeling from the guy, and she gives him a small nod and an awkward smile before retreating to make his drinks.
You take that as your sign to leave yourself, but you barely get the glasses off the wood of the bar before you’re stopped. “Why don’t you come back to my table hm? We can get to know each other a little better,”
You turn your head in his direction with your lips pressed into a line and an awkward inflection in your tone. “No thanks,”
“Awe come on, what’s a guy gotta do to get a few minutes alone with someone like you?” he taps his fingers against the table, an overconfident smile on his lips and a quirk in his tone. “You don’t have to play hard to get you know, it’s okay to give in sometimes,”
“I’m gonna pass,” You take a small sip of your martini in the hopes that it’ll break up the awkwardness a bit, but you don’t really have any luck in that department, considering the fact that this guy seemingly cannot take a hint.
“Come on, I paid for your drinks,” He gestures his hand towards the two glasses in front of you.
“I asked you not to pay for my drinks,”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Reid, you turning your head every two minutes isn’t going to make her come back any quicker,” Morgan shakes his head with a small smirk at Spencer’s demeanour, seemingly finding Spencer’s attitude hilarious under his lightly alcohol-induced haze.
“It shouldn’t be taking this long, the bar is pretty clear,” Spencer’s tone shows more concern than anything. He knew how some drunk people could act, and even though you weren’t entirely drunk yourself he was a little worried that you’d end up in fist fight with someone if you were left alone for too long in such a confrontal environment. “I’m just worried she might get into an argument with someone,”
“Quite the opposite by the look of it,” JJ leans into Emily’s side to point over at the bar where you were standing, speaking to somebody that none of them recognised.
“Aye, Ice Queen’s got game huh?” Morgan took a swig from his bottle with a laugh as he followed JJ’s finger towards you.
“Are we really surprised?” Emily clinks her bottle against Morgan like the two are celebrating the fact that you’ve seemingly got ‘game’ underneath your icy exterior. “She’s a total dominatrix,”
Garcia seems to find Emily’s statement particularly hilarious, actively hitting her hand against Morgan’s bicep with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “Oh 100%,”
Spencer doesn’t share the same enthusiasm towards your presumed sex life, not just because it made him feel icky to talk about something like that behind your back but also because from his point of view you weren’t having a good time.
You were stood straight up with your arms crossed over your chest in a behaviourally defensive manner, and although he couldn’t see your facial expression with how you had your back to the group, the way you stretched your neck only further illustrated that you weren’t enjoying whatever interaction you were having with the man opposite you, no matter how much he seemed to be.
Maybe it was the alcohol blinding the others to your behavioural tells. Maybe he’d just become accustomed to the smaller things when it came to reading you. Either way, you looked like you wanted out of the situation you were in.
He wondered why you hadn’t just walked away yet. You were usually good at establishing your boundaries and putting your foot down when you needed to, so the fact that you were still entertaining a conversation that you clearly didn’t want to be taking part in was more than a little odd to him.
Then a glass shattered on the floor between the two of you, and it was definitely time for somebody to break the conversation.
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“Come on don’t be like that, you might have more fun than you realise,” He didn’t even acknowledge the bartender carrying over the two beers as she set them down on the bar with a sympathetic look in your direction, absently holding out his card in her direction as he kept his gaze on you.
“I told you that I’m not interested.” Your tone harbours more assertiveness this time. You weren’t known for having the longest string of patience, and under the effects of the alcohol in your system that string was halting by the minute.
You’re tired of being nice and hoping he will go away, you were going to end this conversation now.
“Don’t get pissy with me now, I’m being nice here,”
“You need to leave before you see what ‘being pissy’ actually looks like.”
“Are you threatening me?” The guy looks like he’s about to blow a fuse at your response, seemingly dumbfounded at the way you’re standing up for yourself, which makes you feel inherently bad for any woman who has had to endure his self-entitlement in the past.
“I’m telling you to back off. I said no.”
You take Spencer’s drink from the bar top and turn to leave, but incessant as he is, the guy tries to catch your arm so you can’t, causing the drink to spill everywhere and the cocktail glass to smash all over the floor.
“Look what you’ve done now you stupid bitch,” If the sound of the glass smashing didn’t garner an audience from the patrons nearby, the way he raised his voice definitely did.
You turn your gaze from your soaked shoes to him through furrowed eyebrows, opening your mouth to begin your retaliation. Someone else beats you to it.
“That’s a horrible way to speak to somebody,” You knew that voice. Of course you did, he sits opposite you in the office every day rambling about star trek to anyone who so much as glances in his direction.
“Excuse me?” The guy turns his attention towards Spencer with just as much seething in his features.
“You shouldn’t speak to people like that,”
“Reid.” You grit his name out through your teeth as warning for him to not get involved, but he doesn’t listen to you.
“I can speak to whoever I want however I want, get lost you freak.” He takes a step towards Spencer, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt at looking more dominating.
“Have you ever heard of the Napoleon Complex?” Spencer looked down at the man with a raised eyebrow. “Studies have shown that men with shorter statures tend to be more aggressive and domineering in social situations to compensate for their lack of height,”
You raise your eyebrows in mild surprise at Spencer’s statement, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at the look on the guys face at the accusation.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He takes another step forward, almost chest to chest with Spencer by now, although not exactly on equal ground considering that Spencer was at least a head taller than him.
“Common behaviours include loud, ostentatious, and aggressive attitudes, overly grandiose ambitions, and an attempt to be domineering when in the presence of other people, to assert your height advantage over those shorter than you and prove that your height disadvantage is irrelevant to those taller than you,” Spencer continues to state the details of the Napoleon Complex with no acknowledgement of the rising anger of the man in front of him, but you can see the beginnings of nerves in the way he wrings his fingers together behind his back.
Either way, Spencer was absolutely ripping this man to shreds in the most Spencer Reid way possible, and you found yourself not wanting to break this sudden streak of assertiveness he’d garnered, especially considering it had spawned under wanting to support you.
It was a surprising sight to be sure, but you wouldn’t say it was unwelcome.
You were glad that Spencer had an assertive side to him, it meant that he was capable of looking after himself (or you in this case) without the need for external backup. It was also nice to see that he didn’t lose the key aspects of himself in the process. He was still very much Spencer Reid, but he was using the aspect of himself that would usually be the subject of negative comments as the main form of his defence.
It was a perfectly Spencer move.
“You wanna see aggression? Because I will show you goddamn aggression,” The guy huffed in his seething contempt for Spencer’s attitude, rolling up his sleeves.
“Bar fighting is highly illegal, and you could receive a prison sentence of up to 3 years and 6 months for instigating one,” Spencer takes a small step backwards as an offer for the two to just drop the argument and move on, glass crackling underneath the soles of his converse.
“You think I care?” The tension in the air was palpable as the man clenched his fists, his face contorted in anger whilst Spencer remained surprisingly calm, his stance firm yet non-threatening.
He didn’t have time to actually start anything as the bartender from earlier returns, a bouncer stood to her left with a very unamused expression on his face.
"I think it's time for you to leave," She said in a no-nonsense tone.
The man's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected intervention. "You can't kick me out! I didn't do anything wrong!" he protested, his voice growing louder.
"You harassed another patron and broke a glass. That's reason enough," the bouncer retorted, his gaze unwavering as he uncrossed his arms. He wasn’t like Spencer. He wasn’t thin or unfit, he was built, arms barely able to rest properly at his sides from the muscle mass in his biceps.
Not to mention that he was even taller than Spencer was, and no amount of Napoleon’s Complex could convince someone that they’d be able to physically take on somebody like that.
Realising he was outnumbered and outmatched, the man reluctantly turned and stormed out of the bar, muttering curses under his breath.
With the tension diffused, Spencer turned to you, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice soft.
“I’m fine Reid,” You nodded gratefully, “Thank you,”
“Of course, I’m glad you’re okay,” He half-awkwardly rubs his hand over his arm, all semblance of his previous confidence slowly dwindling until he’s back into the shyly-endearing nerd that you’re used to seeing him as.
“I would say sorry about the drink, but you had it coming choosing mint as the primary flavour,” You look down to the remnants of the glass on the floor and the drink that was soaking your shoes.
“Mint has been shown to positively affect brain functioning,” Spencer holds his hand out to catch your elbow to stop you from stumbling as you walk over the shattered glass.
“Doesn’t mean it tastes good,” You don’t shrug off the small contact like you usually would, Spencer presumes it’s just the alcohol in your system dulling your awareness. It’s definitely not because because having a soothing presence after an altercation like that was comforting. Definitely.
Spencer gives you a small smile once you’re out of the shatter-zone before turning to the bartender. "I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help clean it up,"
The bartender shook her head, a grateful expression on her face at the offer. "Don’t worry about it, happens more often than you’d think,"
“You’re sure?”
The bartender gives another simple nod as she retreats behind the bar, presumable to grab a dust pan to clean up the mess. “Give me a second and i’ll make up another drink for you guys,”
“Oh you don’t have to-”
“Don’t be silly,” The bartender waves him off with a small laugh. “It’ll only take a minute,”
“Thank you,” Spencer shoots the bartender a grateful smile before turning his attention back towards you. “You’re sure you’re alright? You didn’t cut yourself on the glass?”
“I’m fine Reid don’t worry about it,” You check yourself over despite the confidence in your words just to make sure that you weren’t actually hurt and just couldn’t feel it.
“So, Napoleon Complex huh?” You raise your eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile as you recall the way Spencer had hit the nail on the head assuming that the reason the dick from earlier was so aggressive was because of a height insecurity.
He gives you a small nod with that awkwardly endearing expression of his as his eyes also scan down by your ankles for any scratches you may have garnered from the glass. “It’s more common in men than you might think,”
“Napoleon was definitely a piece of shit that’s for sure, a fucking short one at that” Spencer laughs shortly at the crudeness of your assessment, although still agrees with you anyhow.
“Napoleon wasn’t actually as short as most people think he was, the translation of his official records misconstrued his height because french inches were actually longer than american inches and…” You weren’t going to remember any of what he’s telling you in the morning, but that didn’t matter right now.
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sant-riley · 1 year
Text
[Random Task force 141 × gen z! member headcanons]
A/N: Reader goes by the codename Teddy in my writing! Along with she/her pronouns :) I am also extremely biased with Ghost so her main pairing is more towards with him compared to the others <3. I know absolutely nothing about the military so this is not accurate I am so sorry💀.
CWs: Dark Humor, Age gaps, Simping, crude humor, cursing. (not sure what else but lmk!)
Chances are, you're the youngest in the entirety of Task Force 141. Just a good couple of years younger than Gaz.
When Laswell brought her in to meet the group, they couldn't help but stare at her in confusion. A tiny girl who couldn't have been older than any of them. Soap couldn't help but chuckle while Ghost nudged him in the side to shut him up.
"This is your new rookie on the team, her callsign is Teddy. Treat her well."
All the men nodded, watching the younger woman shyly smile and wave towards them.
First they realized that her humor was, in Ghost's words, fucked.
Any minor inconvenience had her saying she wanted to be hit by a car or some type of bodily harm, Price quickly whirling around with eyes widened. "Now, I don't think that warranted that kind of response, don't you think?" "Oh it definitely did, Captain." And she'd walk away without another word.
He swears he gets gray hairs from everytime you make casual talk of you dying. He actively tells the others to check on you bc he genuinely don't know if you're serious or not.
Ghost is not up to date with shit, man uses no social medias oncesoever so everything she spouts is wildly out of pocket. References to basic things like tiktok, Twitter, Instagram? He just silently stares at you like you're on drugs. You can't really use your personal phone on base but you try your best to explain memes to him. He sighs and rubs his forehead with a groan of "I'm too old for this shit, teds." "Oh come on! You have to at LEAST know the meme about the marines eating crayons!" "What the fuck are you on about?
The only ones who know vaguely what the fuck you're on about sometimes are Gaz and Soap, despite them still being a few years older.
Granted, they are not caught up with everything but they actively make it a point on leave to try and be up to date bc of you and your mannerisms. Plus it makes you happy when they fire back a quote they learned.
Can yall imagine Soap on tiktok, what random shit he'd have on his fyp bc he doesn't know how the algorithm works 😭.
Teddy has made every single one of them a personal playlist when she does have her phone, Soap once caught her adding songs and hasn't stopped teasing her since. Price and Ghost pretend not to care and barks at Soap to leave her alone but they're equally curious. Ghost contemplates stealing her phone to see it.
Doesn't matter how serious or dark their job may be, you simp for fictional characters, loudly. Price has learned to tune it out, Ghost although slightly jealous, finds it endearing, Gaz and Soap indulge you and will actively ask about why you like the characters you do and how much you love them bc they like to see you excited. It's a nice feeling when they're always in life or death missions.
You're the smallest one in here okay, everyone can easily throw you without batting an eye so they all take turns training you! They all despite knowing you can take care of yourself, would still like to teach you all they know so should you come against a taller/stronger opponent, you'll be okay.
You are the most protected person in the entire squad, esp when going out for drinks, Ghost will put you in the middle between him and Price and basically make a wall of muscle around you. He says he doesn't care and that he just doesn't want to be pestered by creepy people coming up to you but he will literally stare down any man or woman who even tries. He is the creepy one in everyone else's scenario. Soap just laughs and tosses back his drink.
They all notice your ticks and tells, seeing your leg start to shake when you're anxious, when you start cracking your fingers when you're restless, how you will avoid eye contact at any cost. They start to find ways to soothe you in their own ways. Price will give you a pat on your shoulder, sending you a smile.
Gaz nudges you with his body to take your attention off the situation, or he'll simply start asking you random dumbass questions just to see your face change.
Soap will, if he has gotten permission before, just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, running around with you while you scream for him to let you go. Is also not against tickling you straight up to get you to smile.
Ghost tried to be as subtle as he can be. If yall are sitting close to each other, he'll make sure some part of his body is gently pressed against yours. Whether it be his foot, thigh, hand, some part of him will ground you. You try and reassure him that you know he doesn't care for personal touch but he just says to shut up.
Meeting Graves was a trip, for everyone involved besides you and Grave. Absolutely having no control over calling him a irl Fix it Felix. You were on Graves shitlist and honestly you wouldn't be surprised he betrayed yall for that one comment bc of how angry it made him.
Constantly being told to be quiet, but you cannot help it and will make little quips over comms. Ghost takes after you and starts to say horrible "dad" jokes that make you choke trying to hold back. Soap hates both of you and calls you unfunny.
They realize you're impulsive, especially when you show the amount of tattoos you have.
"I joined the military to fund my tattoo addiction." "You know what? That's not even a surprise."
Going home on leave is always a bitter experience, you never look excited to go home. So one of the guys (usually ghost) will offer you to come with them. It helps 3/4 all live somewhere in England so it's easy to see them/ take trips to their place.
They're all attached despite knowing better. They can't help it and they know they care for you so much more than other force members.
Ghost and Soap bristle when Alejandro makes a mention that he'd offer you a spot in his team, impressed with how you can take opponents twice your size.
"¿Te interesaría quedarte en México?"
"The Hell she will."
-
If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!
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starstruckmiraclekitty · 11 months
Text
141 + König Jealousy Headcannons
Based on a request from anon- I suck and somehow posted my drafted one yet again☹️
Warnings: sexual references, mild angst
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Simon Ghost Riley-
When He Gets Jealous -
While Simon knows he is an attractive man, he still thinks that you can do much better than him
That being said, when you're around your close friends, and seem genuinely happy by their presence, Simon can't help the pit that forms in his stomach
He will get quiet and distant whenever he feels jealous. It's not a common emotion for him, and he doesn't know how to handle it
May honestly go to Johnny for advice about it
It'll take him a while to open up to you at first about his jealousy.
When he does finally come to terms with his jealousy....SCARY...DOG...PRIVELAGE
When You Get Jealous -
Let's be honest, this man is beautiful, so he constantly will have men and women vying for his attention
Simon isn't one for small talk with strangers though, so he often brushes them off politely, much to your amusement
That's not to say however, that you don't still get jealous when a fairly attractive person goes and chats him up
When he notices you get jealous, he'll make it a point to introduce you to the person who's flirting with him
Simon's not the overly affectionate type, but he would certainly make an exception if you were upset enough. He wants you to know he's yours until the end of time.
Doesn't even complain when you jump him the minute you guys get home
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König-
When He Gets Jealous -
Like Simon, König isn't very vocal about his jealousy, and he will get fairly quiet
He's still fairly insecure with himself, so when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is, he can't help but feel self-conscious
He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you- pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, opening the car door for you- more than he already does
He doesn't fully understand why you are with him, but he will do whatever he can to keep you
Please reassure this poor man. He loves you so much and doesn't want to lose you
When You Get Jealous -
Poor baby doesn't ever intentionally make you jealous
He tries to be nice to any person who approaches him, and it indirectly makes you jealous
He also doesn't realize when people are flirting with him, he always just thinks they're being nice
Literally will feel SO bad if you're jealous, and will apologize profusely for making you feel bad
Gets adorably flustered if you mark him up. Doesn't know what to do with himself
Say the word, and he will RAVISH you in bed to make you feel better
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John Price-
When He Gets Jealous-
This man SCREAMS possessive (not in a toxic way). You are his and his alone
Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.
Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with, and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself
If the person gets handsy with you? God help that person. Price would kill for you.
9/10 though, the minute his gruff, demanding voice comes out, it scares any possible suitor away from you
Will absolutely take you home and make SURE you know who you belong to ;)
When You Get Jealous-
When you get jealous, John gets pretty cocky about it
Depending on his mood, he may or may not feed into the flirting (just to see you get riled up)
Likes when you come over and make it known he's yours. He finds it cute when you get all fired up
Also finds it cute if you get all pouty about it, he will tease you quite a bit about it
Certainly won't complain if you mark him up once you get home. He'll wear those hickeys with pride
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
When He Gets Jealous-
Kyle doesn't really get jealous, and he hates the feeling of when he is. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you
He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you, but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry
If he does happen to get jealous, he will definitely get clingy. He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very apparent to the person who's talking to you
When You Get Jealous-
Kyle is very aware if he's being flirted with, or if someone's making a pass at him, and he's always quick to shut it down
Will feel really bad if you do get jealous, and will cuddle you for hours when you get home
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He's the type to constantly reassure you of his affections for you. He never wants you to feel like he'd want anyone else but you
He would hesitantly admit that he gets slightly turned on by your jealousy
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
When He Gets Jealous-
Johnny is fairly confident in his good looks, and he trusts you completely, so he doesn't often get jealous
When he does get jealous, it's oftentimes because he's drunk, and you'll honestly have to hold him back so he doesn't hurt someone (or himself)
Will absolutely make a scene. He will make the entire vicinity of wherever you are aware that you're his partner
If he gets jealous when he's not drunk, he trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own, but will 100% step in like the macho man he is to get the person away from you
May or may not cover you head to toe with hickies...the worst has to know you're his
When You Get Jealous-
Johnny finds it hilarious when you get jealous, and will ABSOLUTELY tease you about it
If the two of you get drunk enough, you both like to see who can make the other get the most jealous
When either of you get jealous, it usually ends up resulting in hours between the sheets (not that either of you would complain)
If you get upset about it, though, he'll feel horrible and will smother you with affection once you get home
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captainfern · 1 year
Text
Breed
Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Breed” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary – you and price meet up off base. you fuck lol. • rating – 18+ [mdni] • wordcount – 4.6k • warnings – fem!reader, praise kink, breeding kink [i'm being so fr it's in bold], unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], price is a whore for you <3, strong language
(let me know if i missed any warnings! ok hope you like <3)
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You had been off base for all of four hours.
It was supposed to be a weekend away from your colleagues and the cutthroat environment of a military job. You planned on enjoying a peaceful couple of days with the company of excessive amounts of alcohol, a spa, and that one situationship you had been dealing with for the past year.
So now, before your holiday even begun, you were already regretting even leaving.
You sat in a quaint little bar: complete with all the bells and whistles to make it seem like a 1920’s speakeasy. The light was dim, settling the room in a golden ambiance, as people conversed with each other, nursing crystal tumblers of dark liquor or caressing the thin neck of martini glasses.
You reclined into the plush leather sofa beneath you, a glass of— as the familiar bartender described it— your usual in your hand. You swirled it around your glass, watching the liquid slosh against the sides as your “situationship” rambled on about something (you had stopped paying attention five minutes ago).
“I mean, he drove to work in a Porsche and I drove a Jaguar,” Max downed the rest of his beer. “I think we both know who has the superior taste in cars, don’t we?”
“Mhm…” you hummed, taking a sip of your drink.
Max had never been the most interesting person— hell, he was actually really fucking annoying. His only redeeming quality was that you could fuck him and not feel guilty about leaving the next morning. Convenience, really.
Max peered at you over the rim of his pint glass, cocking his head to the side as he placed it back onto the table. “Something on you mind?” He asked, sounding genuinely worried.
You looked up at him, slightly startled. “Oh, no, sorry. It’s just been a long day—”
“Okay, great, now can I finish my story?”
You blinked at him as he continued, rambling on with no real punchline to his story— he was just trying to make himself seem richer. At this point, you were cringing. Embarrassing.
After a while of putting up with… whatever the hell Max was even talking about, you excused yourself. You popped to the bathroom, drawing out the process of washing your hands by a good five minutes, before reluctantly exiting the bathroom.
You collided with a wall.
Well, it wasn’t a wall. The wall was a man.
The body you crashed into immediately steadied you: two strong arms wrapping around your upper body, pressing you gently to a taut abdomen. You gasped out as the wall, smelling strongly of bergamot orange and whiskey, settled your firmly on your feet and held you within arms reach. Large hands gripped your shoulders, completely enveloping them.
You screwed your eyes shut, waiting for a drunken insult of some kind. “Shit, I am so sorry—!”
“Sergeant?”
You looked up, locking eyes with your captain. Captain John Price, the man responsable for leading your taskforce.
“Captain? I… I am so sorry.” You rambled, taking a step out of his reach and fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt. “I wasn’t looking where I was going—”
He laughed, deep and melodic. “S’all right, love. You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh, none of that crap,” he smiled, nudging you softly. “John’s fine. Or Price, if you really prefer it.”
You nodded, hiding a small smile. “Alright, Price.”
Price looked you up and down, taking in your attire and the way you had dolled yourself up. He let a small smile fall onto his lips as he leaned back against the standing-table he was situated at, elbow across it.
“Who’s got you dressed all nice, love?”
You rolled your eyes. “I was meant to be on a date, but it isn’t going well at all.”
His smile faded. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing major,” you said with a shrug. “Just an old… friend. He loves to talk about himself, and he hasn’t asked about what I’ve been up to since I got here.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Two hours.”
Price let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly. “Sounds like a right arsehole, that one. Why don’t you just head on home?”
“I’d feel guilty—”
“You kill people for a living, sergeant,” Price quipped, grabbing his whiskey tumbler and raising it to his lips. “I doubt you’d feel guilty about leaving this tosser.”
You watched him take a sip of his drink, licking the liquor off his lips as he placed the tumbler back down. You sighed, realising that he was probably right, before squaring your shoulders and setting a determined look on your face. Price laughed at your expression.
“I’ll tell him I’m leaving.” You said.
Price chuckled, giving you a wink. “You go do that, love.”
You left Price and crossed the bar, to where Max was sitting on the couch, smiling at his phone. He was typing fast, and didn’t even look up when you cleared your throat to get his attention, now standing just a few feet from him.
“I’m leaving,” you said simply. “Thanks for… the company, I guess.”
Max looked up, shutting his phone off and shoving it into his pocket as he got to his feet. “Are we not gonna fuck?”
The words leaving his mouth sounded horrid, and you withheld a grimace at his desperate tone. You shook your head, “No, we’re not.”
He scoffed. “So this has been a complete waste of time, then?”
You stared at him, dumbfounded as he shoved past you and vanished out the door. He left you with the bill and, not only that, but he was your ride— and you heard the unmistakable sound of his Jaguar revving it’s engine and tearing off down the street.
You blinked, dumbfounded, at the door, trying not to let the stinging of embarrassed tears fall from behind your eyes. With a frustrated sigh, you were about to head to the bar and pay when Price stopped you, walking into your path.
“Come on, love. I’ll take you home.”
You shook your head adamantly. “Price, no, I’ve gotta pay—”
“I’ll put it on my tab,” he said simply. “Now, come on. I’ll take you home since that fuckwit wants to leave a lady stranded here.”
He ushered you gently out the door, a large, warm hand on your lower back. He didn’t let you protest: he just simply guided you out into the chilly night air. His body heat was warm against your back as he led you towards his car. His smell was intoxicating. You had the sudden urge to just whirl around and rub yourself all over him, collecting his scent like a cat.
Um, what the fuck— suddenly crossed your mind.
When you both reached his car, he opened the passenger door for you and allowed you to slide into the seat, before closing it and moving to the other side, clambering into the driver seat and slotting the key into the ignition, the car rumbling to life.
Once out onto the main road, he cast you a quick glance, both hands on the wheel, running his thumbs along the seam of the wheel’s curve. “We’re you staying?”
You gave him your address, and he raised a brow. “A penthouse suite, eh? We are clearly not being paid the same.”
You laughed, warm in his car. You smelt that same scent of bergamot citrus and whiskey floating through the car. It was tainted with cigar smoke and mint. You wanted to get the smell tattooed into your fucking brain.
The drive to your flat was comfortable. You talked with Price as though he was an old friend and not your boss. He seemed to enjoy your company, too: sparing subtly glances in your direction whenever you laughed, or whenever you got particularly excited when telling him a story. His eyes twinkled.
A few minutes later, Price had pulled up outside your building, killing the engine and hopping out of the car. You went to protest, but he moved and opened your door, beckoning you outside with a small wave of his hand.
“I’ll be walking you to your door, sergeant,” Price said, almost sternly. “I’m a man of my word. I said I’d take you home, so I will.”
Ignoring the heat in your cheeks, you allowed him to gently lead you across the foyer and into the lift. You hit your floor level and as the doors closed, you suddenly became aware of how close you and Price were to one another. You could feel his body heat. You could feel the gentle brush of his chest against your back every time he breathed.
Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol coursing through your veins, but you suddenly felt hot. Like, underwear getting wet kinda hot. In the corner of the lift, you shifted your legs, pressing your thighs together as the lift travelled upwards.
No way you’re horny right now, you thought as the lift doors opened.
You were quick to depart, hurrying down the hall and reaching your door in record speed, fumbling to get the keys out of your purse. You felt Price sidle up behind you. When you finally got the door open, you pushed it and stepped into the doorway, flicking the light on before turning and looking up at Price.
“Thank you so much for bringing me home,” you said sincerely. “And I am genuinely sorry if I ruined your night.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You didn’t ruin my night. I’m always here if you need me, love.”
You bit your lip. The way he said that was way to hot for the way you were feeling right now. You could feel the flush creeping up your neck, and it seemed that Price took notice.
He cocked his head to the side, appraising you. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, reaching a hand out and placing it heavily on your arm. It was a solid form that was warm and strong and you had a sudden urge to just bite it.
What the fuck.
“Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You said. Liar.
Price raised a brow, looking at the way you squirmed under his gaze. Now, he wasn’t stupid by any means— he could read your body language like a book and it made a triumphant smile flicker across his face.
He shifted the hand on your arm and dragged it to your chin, gripping it carefully and lifting it, forcing you to look up at him.
“What do you want, love?”
You blinked at him.
He tutted. “Don’t get shy on me now, sergeant. Tell me what you want. What’s getting you all worked up, huh?” He stroked your jaw, your cheek, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You like the way I talk to you? You like when I call you love?”
You let out a quiet whimper, nodding. He smiled down at you, leaning in as though he was about to kiss you. But he stopped, mint and whiskey laced breath fanning across your face.
“Use your words when you speak to your captain.”
You swallowed. “Yes.”
“Yes…?”
“Yes, sir.”
He hummed, pleased. “That’s a good girl.” And then pressed his mouth to yours. It was possessive— his tongue breached past your lips, plunging desperately into your mouth as you tried to keep up. You wound your arms around his broad shoulders, sliding fingers into his hair and gripping the strands. He groaned into your mouth, pushing you further into your flat without breaking the kiss.
He slammed the door shut and locked it blindly, opting to move you around and slam your body up against it. He cupped your jaw with one hand, shifting his other to run down your side, brushing over your hip and settling on your upper thigh. He squeezed it as he slid one leg between yours, jutting his knee upwards and pressing it against your clothed core.
You let out a strangled whimper, choking on the possessive nature of the kiss as Price pressed your body against his knee, using the hand at your hip to help you move against it. You stuttered on a moan, breaking the kiss to take some short breaths, the pressure on your core alleviating the building sensations.
“This what you want?” Price grinned against your jawline, placing kisses there. “You want me to make you feel good, love?”
You nodded desperately, moaning out a pathetic “yes, sir,” before he was whirling you around and guiding you deeper into your flat. He eventually found your bedroom, and pushed you onto the bed. Your back hit the silken sheets, and he wasted no time in following you; pressing his body to yours and immediately reattaching his mouth to yours hungrily.
As the two of you kissed, he gently began to pry your clothes from your body. He slipped your shirt off, making quick work in popping off your bra. He moved down, planting kisses along your chest and across the swell of your breasts. He then drew his tongue, hot, over your right nipple before taking it into his mouth. You moaned loudly, huskily, gripping at his hair as he sucked. He moved to your left one, and repeated the process until you were a whimpering, needy mess beneath him.
After a moment, he leaned back and admired the hickeys he had created over your soft skin, running calloused fingers over them.
“This okay, love?”
You nodded, reaching up and looping your fingers around his belt. “Yes, sir.” You whined, finally managing to undo the buckle on his belt.
But he stopped you, gently pushing your hands above your head before he dipped down and kissed you again. The way he licked into your mouth made you squirm, fingers flexing beneath his strong grip. He released your arms, running his hands along the bare skin and all the way past your shoulders, over your breasts and along your sides.
His eyes never left yours as he popped the button on your pants, pulling them down your legs and throwing them across the room. When the cool air of your room hit, you realised just how wet you were— favourite pair of underwear, soaked through. Your face lit up in embarrassment as you felt Price’s eyes drift down your body.
“S’all for me?” Price uttered, finger skimming the edge of your underwear. He hooked his finger beneath it and let it go with a snap against the plush fat of your thigh.
You felt hot all over when you mumbled out a “yeah.”
“Yeah?” He pulled your underwear down your legs, dragging his hands heavily along your skin alongside it. Like your pants, he flicked your underwear across the room. Then, his hands were on your thighs and in the blink of an eye, you were flipped over.
Price lay on his back, arms wrapped around your thighs. You straddled his chest, hands resting on his pecs. Your fingers brushed through his chest hair as he looked up at you, an expectant look on his face. Your stomach flipped.
“Price…” You whined.
“Sit on my face, love.”
You hesitantly shook your head. “I don’t want to hurt—”
“Come on, darling,” Price drawled, tugging you forward. “You won’t hurt me.”
You let out a stuttered sigh as your thighs rested either side of his head, and you slowly sank your aching cunt down onto his face. You huffed out a load moan when he licked a stripe up your folds, before plunging his tongue right into your dripping heat. You snatched at his head, pulling his hair as your hips shifted against him— his nose nudging your clit, his tongue drawing animalistic sounds from your mouth.
“Price—!”
“That’s a good girl,” Price uttered against your core. “Ride my face, love. Take what you need.” He had an iron grip on your thighs, helping you rock yourself against his mouth. “Such a pretty, wet cunt. Tastes so fucking good.”
You moaned at his words. Your captain speaking to you like that with his face drowning in your cunt. What the fuck—
“P-Price…” You breathed. “Gonna… gonna come.”
He moaned against your cunt— the vibrations making that coil in your stomach tighten. He squeezed your thighs, running his tongue up your folds and swirling it around your clit, repeating this action a few times.
You felt yourself drawing tight, a thin sheen of sweat gathering across your bare skin. “Price—”
“I know, darling, I know,” he said. “Come for me. Come in my mouth like a good girl, yeah?”
“Yeah, fuck, Price—!” You came with a moan of his name, gushing into his mouth as your hips stuttered against his face. You felt him groan beneath you, tongue working you through your orgasm.
After a long moment, Price re-surfaced— shifting you carefully onto your back and hovering over you. You smiled hazily at him, seeing his beard slick with you, shiny. He hummed, pressing his mouth to yours.
���Such a good girl, aren’t you, sergeant?” He said into your mouth.
You could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. You hummed a response, too busy stroking his facial hair, feeling your own arousal sticky on your fingers.
When Price pulled back, his lips were flushed and his dark eyes glassy. His eyes scanned your face.
“Price?” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone.
“You gonna let me fuck you?” He grumbled, deep and low from his chest. “Gonna let me fill this pretty cunt?”
Your eyes widened momentarily as he shifted his gaze down your body. You arched off the bed when his hands went back to travelling down your sides. He sat back on his heels, spreading your legs as wide as they could go, warm hands on your inner thighs.
He stared at your dripping core, and you watched him harden even more in his pants.
“Such a pretty cunt, eh, darling?” Price ran two fingers along your folds, collecting a shiny mix of your arousal and his saliva. He brought his fingers to your mouth and shoved them roughly passed your lips. “Tastes fucking heavenly, too.”
You choked on his fingers, moaning. Wrapping your tongue around them, you noticed his pupils dilate even more as he watched you.
“Jesus…” He pulled his fingers out, then began tracing them along your core again. He watched his fingertips slip between your folds, and then watched the way you writhed in anticipation each time his fingers skimmed your aching hole.
“Fuck, just— Price, please—” You warbled, body hot. You could feel your arousal leaking out of you, pooling below your arse on the bedsheets.
Price laughed lowly, before sinking two fingers into your desperate cunt, right up to the knuckle. You keened, a high-pitched moan filtering between your lips at the intrusion. His digits were thick, dragging against your gummy walls, stretching you open with obscene squelching noises.
He cooed at you as he added a third finger. “Take it, darling. Such a good girl taking all three, aren’t you? This pretty cunt’s so good for me. Just for me.”
You moaned and wiggled against the bed as he pumped three fingers inside you. You felt full, satiated. Your slick was dripping down his hand, his wrist and sliding into the hairs along his forearms.
“Making such a mess, and I haven’t even given you my cock yet…” Price drawled as you fluttered around his fingers, hips bucking.
“Price, sir, need you to fuck me.”
He didn’t relent the movements of his fingers, and you felt your second orgasm building strongly within you. He tutted, clucking his tongue as he thrusted his fingers into you. “Want you to come on my fingers first. You can do that, can’t you, love? Come all over my fingers before you can come on my cock.”
You whined, forcing yourself to nod and nod and nod as your orgasm towered over you, looming like a shadow. “F-fuck, m’gonna—”
The words died on your tongue as your orgasm ripped through you, a blinding pressure released from your abdomen. A wet gush of arousal flooded beneath you, and you felt it. As you shook, legs trembling, chest heaving, you heard Price chuckling to himself as he retracted his dripping fingers.
“Such a messy girl,” he mused. “Look what you’ve done.”
You used your remaining strength to look down at where he was— his shirt splattered with your arousal, wet dripping onto his lap. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Price prevented you from shying away. He dragged himself up your body and placed kisses as he went— ending his exploration by settling a deep kiss to your mouth.
“You gonna let me fuck you now? You deserve it, don’t you? Been such a good girl for me, letting me eat that pretty cunt.”
Such lewd words coming from your captain’s mouth— a man of such impressive status and honourability— was slightly disconcerting. However, you couldn’t find into yourself to care, nor think about the HR nightmare the two of you were in the midst of causing.
All you were focussing on was ripping open your tear-lined eyes and watching as the captain— your captain— shed himself of his dress shirt and then his pants. When he pulled down his boxers, you literally tossed your head back and moaned, much to the amusement of Price— who chuckled lowly at you, gripping his cock at the base.
“Want it that bad, darling?” He mused, leaning forward to run the head of his cock up and down your glistening folds.
“Yes, fuck—!”
“Ask nicely,” Price placed a couple of soft kisses along the underside of your jaw. “Good girl’s ask nicely, don’t they?”
You whined out some pathetic excuse for a please, lifting your arms to thread your fingers into his hair as he hovered over you. His body was heavy against you: the weight of his cock firm against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
Price lined himself up with your dripping cunt, slowly pushing in. He released a low groan from the depths of his chest as his cock slid into your tight heat, your cunt fluttering around him. You joined him, breathing out panting moans as he sunk deeper and deeper.
With one final push, Price’s cockhead was nestled up against the plug of your womb, pulsing within you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily.
“You feel… Jesus Christ— you feel so good, love. So tight around me,” his voice had a whiny undertone. “Can I move, darling?”
You nodded, full. It’s like you could feel him in your chest.
With a deep grunt, Price dragged his cock all the way out until the wet tip of him rested at your entrance— before he pushed back in roughly. You jolted, moaning as he set a pace that you hadn’t at all been expecting. You felt the need to be stabilised, your hands groping across his shoulders, down his back, along his arms. Your hands travelled down his torso, feeling the rigid planes of muscle and wiry hair.
Price panted in your ear. “Such a— fuck— such a good girl. Being such a good girl for your captain, darling. Making me— hngh— making me so proud.”
Your stomach and cunt fluttered simultaneously at the praise, eliciting a moan from both you and Price. He was truly fucking you into your bed: the mattress creaking along with the bed frame; the cushioned headboard knocking gently against the wall. Somewhere across your apartment, your radio was playing— you’d left it on before you left for the evening— and Breed by Nirvana was playing. Fitting for the occasion, considering—
“Fuck, gonna come in this tight fucking cunt,” Price groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna stuff you full ‘o me.”
You writhed beneath him, back arching off the bed and aching nipples brushing against his chest. You were getting close, judging by the way that familial coil was tightening in the depths of your belly. Tighter and tighter as he fucked his fat cock harder and harder into you, deeper and deeper against your cervix.
A thin sheen of sweat lay across your skin, glowing. Price didn’t care, clearly, as he peppered kisses across your chest, sucking bites onto the base of your neck as he rutted into you, hips slamming against yours. You felt one of his large, warm hands slide from your waist and across your pelvis, settling a finger on your sensitive clit.
You whined, and he shushed your gently. “Take it, darling, take it. I know you can… come on.”
Price rubbed tight circles against the bundle of nerves as he fucked you, hitting that same spot within you that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids and whimpering his name repeatedly.
It only took a couple of seconds for you to reach your peak.
“Price, m’gonna come,” you gasped, trembling and snapping your eyes open. “Please, sir—!”
He groaned, gruff and pleasure-strained. “That’s a good girl, darling. ‘Course you can come. Come all over my fucking cock and show me how much of a good girl you are for your captain.”
Yeah, that was it.
You came, for lack of better words, violently. You legs shook, knees trembling as you arched your back off the mattress. Your body pressed tight to Price’s, his cock angling deeper as he fucked you through your post-orgasmic haze. Your breaths came in pants, face flushed and clit throbbing.
Price meanwhile was nearing his peak as well. He was fucking you into your silken sheets like a scene out of some kind of porno— large hands gripping at your waist, your thighs; eyes travelling hungrily down your body to where his cock repeatedly entered your tight hole. His cock was completely slick with you, his pelvis and lower stomach splashed and glimmering with your arousal.
“Gonna fill you up so good,” Price groaned, eyelids fluttering for a moment. “Come so deep in this cunt you’ll feel me for weeks— ruin you for any other man, eh, love? That fuckwit from the bar has nothing on me.”
You didn’t even have the energy to moan like you really fucking wanted too. Everything he was saying was going straight to your aching cunt, and it was probably sending you to an early ovulation. You felt like you craved him.
Price suddenly grabbed your hand, bringing it downwards to where his cock slammed into you. He pushed your fingers around your hole so that you could feel where his fat cock entered you over and over again. You moaned at the feeling, just as Price knocked your hand aside and folded you in half— pressing your legs up against your chest. A mating press.
He was huffing now, drawing near his climax as another one built within you.
“One more time for me, love.” He said and Jesus Christ you didn’t need to be told again.
Another orgasm overtook you before you knew it was there: drowning you and leaving you gasping as you gushed around him, hands gripping the back of his neck for support. You sighed out his name, airy and exhausted, as his thrusts began to lose rhythm.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he uttered. “So good for me. Now ‘m gonna fill this cunt so good— shit— fucking breed you nice and full. Might take, eh, love? You’d love that wouldn’t you? Love being all nice and fat with my kid, and I’d fuck you whenever you wanted— hngh, Jesus— give this needy cunt my cock whenever you wanted.”
These words were coming out of your captain’s mouth… Soap is never going to believe you.
Price let out a low, almost whimper of a sound as he thrusted sloppily a couple more times. “Take it, darling, fuck. Take my come. Fucking take it like my good girl. So proud of you.”
He came with a shudder and a deep groan: warmth flooding your insides and splashing deep into your cervix— helpful thanks to the fact you could feel him in your guts.
The both of you breathed heavily in tandem until his cock softened inside you and he pulled out carefully. His come oozed out of your hole, and he shoved it back inside with two fingers.
Price cleared his throat. “I’m gonna have to do a lot of paperwork to get us out of whatever mess we’ve just put ourselves in.”
You sighed. “Let’s not talk about work when you’re knuckle deep in my pussy.”
Price stopped talking, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips.
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4K notes · View notes
prismuffin · 1 year
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The MW2 boys reaction to you calling them pretty boy
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w/ Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy
warnings?: swearing, mentions of drinking
*gn reader ( can be read as any gender ! )
!-!more under the cut!-!
John Price:
—You calling him pretty boy would definitely catch him off guard.
—Honestly he thinks it's a dare
—Depending on how well he knows you he might let it slide, unless you're in public or around other members of 141, then he'll reprimand you for it.
—Secretly enjoys it but tries not to show any reaction
"Drinking all by yourself pretty boy?"
John's head snapped in your direction, seeing you leaning against the counter. He was currently at the bar having a drink though your presence completely caught him off guard. He eyed you up and down before taking another sip of his drink, already sensing the headache inducing conversation ahead. "Pretty boy?" He questioned, his body jolting in a silent laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than anything. "Never call me that again Sergeant." "Yes sir."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:
—Did he hear you right?
—Is honestly super flustered but is very happy with the new nickname, he's still very confused at the suddenness of it though.
—He's super smiley all day afterwards like it's all he can think about. Price had to ask him what was had happened to make him so happy.
Gaz was going through a routine pre-workout stretch in the training room. He had more of a lean build compared to some of his mates and though that doesn't make him any less capable it still made him feel as though he has to keep up sometimes. "Nice arms you got there pretty boy!" He turned his head in your direction, his eyebrows raised as he watched you wink at him before disappearing into the hallway. He beamed, feeling a bit more energized than before. He completed his workout with a confidence boost, nobody could tear Gaz down that day. He knew he was getting questioning looks from Price about his smiley attitude but he didn't care.
Simon "Ghost" Riley:
—He's so confused? Like did you really just say that to him of all people?? The guy wearing the mask all the time???
—Like Price, he thinks it's a dare or a joke you got forced into by Soap or something
—Doesn't know how to take random genuine compliments that have no context so please bare with him
—Might just fully ignore you honestly, especially if its early mornings
Ghost sighed as he walked into the common room. Soap and Gaz were talking about something in the corner of the room while Price seemed to be sat reviewing some files, you standing over his shoulder. You noticed him first, your eyes catching his as he stood in the doorway. You nodded your head at him, "Morning pretty boy." He blinked at you, seeing if you were serious. It wasn't something he had expected to leave your mouth and he didn't know how to react, he was thankful for his mask at times like these. Noticing your greeting, Price had turned and nodded to him as well before the both of you went back to looking at the files. He mumbled a "Fuckin' 'ell" as he walked deeper into the room. He just hoped that nickname wouldn't stick.
John "Soap" MacTavish:
—He easily accepts the new nickname with a smirk
—Two can play that game 'cause he'll definitely flirt back a little to be honest
—You're just adding fuel to his ego ya know
—Like Gaz he's just a big ole happy boy after you call him pretty boy
Soap was with Ghost in the locker room on base. He was chatting with Ghost, though it was more like he was talking while Ghost was listening, only giving input when he felt necessary. You'd walked in when Soap had just taken off his tactical vest, leaving him in nothing but a tight black shirt. A whistle cut through the air, catching the attention of both men. "Looking good pretty boy." Soap's expression morphed from confusion to that of an amused one. A smirk rested on his lips as he crossed his arms. "Not lookin' too bad yourself there la' " He winked before hearing Ghost groan about how you two were being gross.
Alejandro Vargas:
—It catches him off guard much like Price but he quickly gets over his shock
—Like Soap he's more than likely to flirt back with you
—Finds it funny, especially if it comes from nowhere
—Will tease you to hide his own flustered state
You were currently occupying yourself by cleaning off one of your favorite submachine guns. It was then that Alejandro had walked in with Rodolfo. They were both coated in sweat after a morning run which Rudy had immediately left to wash off. You would have joined them both had you not been minorly injured on one of the recent expeditions. You weren't complaining though, you got to rest all day and take in sights like this. A smirk found its way onto your face as your eyes scanned over Alejandro's form. "Welcome back pretty boy." Alejandro shook his head, a smile resting on his face. "Ten cuidado amigo/a, falling for me can be dangerous." (Be careful, friend)
Rodolfo Parra:
—He's flattered to say the least, he definitely wasn't expecting it but he's not mad at all
—Like Gaz and Soap he's very smiley afterwards
—You made his day with such a simple compliment and he secretly hopes the nickname will stick cause it makes his heart flutter.
Rodolfo was currently training some new recruits for Los Vaqueros, yelling semi-threatening words of encouragement as he watched them run the track. The yelling along with the heat had made him a bit lightheaded though he fought against the feeling. He jolted when a hand clapped his back, turning to see your face greeting him with a smile. "You doing alright pretty boy?" If you asked Rudy later he'd definitely blame the blush rising in his cheeks on the heat. "S-Sí, I'm ok." You tilted your head, unhooking your hip flask from your belt. You held it out to him "Cuídate Rudy." (Take care of yourself) He nodded, grabbing the flask from your hand and taking a big sip before handing it back to you. "Gracias." "De nada."
----!----
( first time writing for COD men I hope it turned out ok !! )
Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
Text
tw - unbalanced power dynamics, prolonged imprisonment, wrongful imprisonment.
You’d gotten a key to his office, somehow.
For as much freedom as Wriothesley tried to allow the prisoners Fortress of Meropide, he couldn’t help but wonder how you pulled that little trick off. There were only two copies, one of which he wore at his waist at all hours of the day while the other remained inside a sealed vault, locked behind a code only he knew. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d done it, and yet, there you were, emerging at the top of the staircase that led into his only private space, toying with a small bronze key and smiling too brightly for any part of your flawless expression to be genuine. The dubiously-acquired key was slid into one of the pockets of your cover-alls, your smile gifted the company of a breathy laugh, and then, any distance he might’ve been able to keep between the two of you was closed as you clambered onto his desk, stealing what little concentration he still had away. With a sigh, he pushed his chair back, giving you his full attention. This was a familiar routine, one he didn’t have the energy to fight. It wasn’t as if his resistance had ever done much good, not when it came to you.
You spoke first, predictably. He’d never really been the instigating type. “Good morning, your grace.”
“My cigarettes,” he said, nodding towards the corner of his desk where a red-striped paper box had sat a few seconds ago. “If you’re desperate enough to steal, you would’ve tried asking nicely first.”
Rolling your eyes, you produced his missing vice and handed it back to him, but not without snagging one for yourself and stowing it away for later use. It was a minor infraction, though – nothing he couldn’t write off as the price of your visit. “You know,” he went on, leaning back in his seat. “That kind of thing can add time onto your sentence. Not all the guards are going to be as forgiving as me.”
“None of the other guards have anything worth stealing.” Your tone was light, your answer given easily. Sometimes, he tried to picture what you’d look like frowning, yelling, or worse, with pursed lips, clenched fists, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to maintain what little dignity you had left, but he always came up empty. You were good at that – knowing just how much you could show without giving yourself away entirely. If Wriothesley was a crueler man, he may have been tempted to try and take you apart himself. “And even if they did, I’d still come to you first.” His response came in the form of an unimpressed scowl, and you chuckled. “C’mon! Even your heart can’t be cold enough not to find that at least a little bit touching, boss.”
Another sigh, this one somehow more drained than the last. “It’d mean more to me if your rehabilitation seriously,” and then, tapping his leg, “But, my treasured possessions aren’t all you’re here for, right?”
It was your turn to play exasperated, now, to groan and let your head lull to the side as you lowered yourself off of the desk and onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. This was part of your routine, too – his favorite part, as loathed as he’d be to ever say that out loud. Try as he might, he had yet to find anything that could compare to the way your weight rested against his, to how your body head warmed just a touch of the chill that’d seeped under his skin and settled years ago. Not many things were able to live in the fortress, not for very long, and yet, here you were, just as radiant as the day the gardes brought you in. If he’d had a more scientific mind, he might’ve thought you were worth studying.
“How long?” Your voice drew him out of his thoughts. He hummed and you repeated yourself, as well-trained as you were rebellious. “How long do I have left before I’m free to go?”
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, resting his hands on your hips. “You can’t expect me to know something like that off the top of my head, love.”
“Yes, I can.” He felt you slump against him, your fingertips brush against the nape of his neck. “When it comes to me, I can.”
He let his eyes fall shut. “I requested another six months be added to your sentence last week,” he admitted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into your throat “Since you had yet to show any signs of lasting rehabilitation. The Iudex approved it yesterday.”
You were so soft, too – uncalloused despite the pressure of the world above, the brutality of what waited for you below. He’d let you steal as many keys as you wanted to, so long as you never hardened. “This is the third extension you’ve asked for.”
“The longest, too.” He’d let you take anything from him, so long as it meant you never left his little world. “I doubt he even revisited your case. People in the overworld don’t tend to pay attention to the finer details of what does on down here, so long as I keep the factories running.”
For a second, he could’ve sworn he felt you stiffen, could’ve sworn he felt your grin waver where it was pressed into the dip of your shoulder.
Then, you were pulling away, your smile as bright as the sun’s light where it caught on the rising tide and twice as beautiful. “You’re never going to let me go, are you?”
This time, he couldn’t help but smile back.
“Not if I can help it.”
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kaibutsushidousha · 19 days
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Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024
Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.
My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?
Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.
Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.
Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.
Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.
Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.
Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.
Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.
Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.
No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.
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