spidahwebz

[spidahwebz]

Reader who gets restless after a mission. Jumpy and violent and mean.

You try not to take it out on others, isolating the second ur in the clear. Mind still buzzing with excess energy, you fidget as the nurses look you over, eager to get out.

You dont get to duck into your room, though, because price finds you. He places a warm hand on ur neck, notes the way you clench your fists at the contact. "Lets chat in my office, yeah?"

He doesnt let go of you even inside, if anything his grip becomes stronger. You can feel the irritation crawling all over you, wanting nothing more than to bite at prices touch. But price doesnt let up, shoving you against his desk and forcing you to bend over. "You," he mutters against ur ear "need to learn to control yourself, or ill do it for you."

Its hard to focus, with the way prices body is pressed against yours, his breath in your ears. You feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment and arousal, feeling like a scruffed dog. "Sir If you dont back off-"

Your growled threat is cut off by price tightening his grip, shoving you more firmly against the desk "fuckin settle down" he pressed another hand to the small of your back. "Cmon, lets get you sorted."

His hand moved around to the front of your pants, undoing the buckle with ease. He always knows what you need before you even do. Price still has his gloves on when he palms at you "there you go. Just needed something to focus on." He praises when you go boneless and whine.

"I've got two hours before anyone comes looking for me. We can make good use of that time, right?"

[spidahwebz]

We Are Here pt 1/?

X

[spidahwebz]

sigh, phillip trying to convince reader to sit on his face. like SIT, none of that hovering bs (his words). keeps trying to tell her that if he’s gonna die, this is how he’d wanna go out (in between her thighs)- yknow the typical man spiel. maybe he gets impatient and just yanks her on him 🙃

CW: face riding, nsfw minors dni

UGHHH STOP THIS MAKES ME SOOOO FERAL

when you've just started dating and he's OBSESSED w eating you out... constantly getting on his knees or dragging you to have your thighs on his shoulders.. and if you aren't together he's gonna text you shit like "i want to bury my tongue so deep in you" in the middle of a meeting

and one day maybe he says something like "goddd i just want you to sit on my face" and you awkwardly laugh because everyone you've been with before has said some variation of that but they usually just mean for you to hover.

and so when the time comes to actually do it, you can only bring yourself to hover. he just tuts, and lifts you enough so that he can make eye contact with you.

"i want you fuckin' SAT. none of this hoverin' bullshit, you hear me?"

"phillip, i'm gonna break your nose. you're not gonna be able to breathe."

"what a way to go that would be," he smiles, shit eating grin.

But you still continue hovering. He tuts again, “well, I asked nicely.”

Before you know it, his hands are pushing your thighs down. You’re SITTING. No, scratch that—you’re riding his face. Rutting on it like an animal in heat. And the sounds coming from his mouth are nothing short of obscene.

When you finish, his face is glistening with your spend. Smirks at you, the smug bastard, before licking his lips.

[spidahwebz]

Phillip Graves getting jealous because his shy wife is getting flirted on by someone else but she doesn't know how to respond?? Yes please!!

(could be sfw at first but when they get back home graves pounds his wife against any surface he sees because he can't stand seeing his wife getting flirted on right in front of him)

YUUUUH I HAVE JUST THE THING!! I know, it's been AGES with these, and this one from last year but I still hope you like it! and I know you said doing the nasty back home, but I thought "man, I'm already here. might as well!" and filthy-ize(???) it even more for good measure 😘💗

Includes; soft (& slightly mean dom) & possessive graves, fingerf~cking, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('sugar', 'pretty girl'), licking, biting & marking, praising, dirty talking, mentions of voyeurism & exhibitionism!!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

It happens. 

A lot.

The library, your favourite diner, your flower shop—anywhere.

It happens more than you can imagine, but with Phil around, it’s mostly from afar. The kind where they could only dream about making a move on you, if not for the guard dog with the sharp tongue.

Hence, when he’s not around, he worries a little for you, but he knows you can protect yourself when needed, thanks to the self-defence lessons he has given you when you were still dating.

So, imagine the unlucky bastard who thought it was a good idea to take advantage of your gracious hospitality, not knowing your husband was around.

It happened when he had finished work, but instead of heading home, he took the route where your flower shop was. Closing time was ten minutes ago so he knew you’d be waiting for him at the cafe next door, probably nursing a cup of your favourite drink or nibbling on a pastry.

He hated it whenever he couldn’t reach you on the dot or before, no matter how many times you’ve reassured him. 

Reaching the neighbourhood shops was like a breath of fresh air, enjoying the sense of familiarity and the breeze as he turned the corner, passing by the cafe first.

But with a glance, his brows furrowed, seeing that you were nowhere in sight. He quickly took it as a sign that you were still working, though a thirty-minute overtime was almost uncommon of you.

He parked his convertible close to the entrance of your shop but still out of view, and for a brief moment, he caught sight of you through the window. 

And just his mood lifted, ready to greet you with open arms, his smile dropped.

You were dealing with a customer, a man likely in his 30s and dressed, well, if one were told to dress formally, and they did it haphazardly, then that was exactly what it was. His body language was a little awkward, almost unsure what pose may look alluring in your eyes.

Though Phil had a knack for judging certain people by their looks, if and only if their personality rubbed him the wrong way, he didn’t have an issue thinking of the worst insults about the man, if not for the uncomfortable smile on your face.

So, leaning against the wall, away from you or the man’s sight, he listened in. 

“So, your husband’s in the military, huh?” He asked, but Phil wasn’t dumb enough to think it wasn’t a sneer in disguise. Probably thought he held some rookie position, “Must be hard not having someone to hold to every night.”

Phil didn’t bother hiding the scornful look on his face.

“It’s not bad,” He immediately perked up at the sound of your voice. The gentle sound that could heal even his worst wounds, “He finds time to check up on me.” 

Whether or not you were telling the truth or if you were downplaying your thoughts if his absence really did bother you, he’ll ask you later, but for now, he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Not letting some schmuck stick their nose in someone else’s business, and your marriage, no less.

“Well, sure, but look at you! I don’t know about you but if I had a girl like you? Shoot, I don’t I’d ever get any work done,” The audacity. Phil’s jaw tightened, listening to him weakly defend himself when you didn’t respond, undoubtedly displeased by his unnecessary opinion, “But that’s just me, y’know.”

“Right, um,” You turned to the row of flower pots, using the second to roll your eyes to the back of your head before showing him the bunch of bluebells in your hands, “How about some bluebells?”

The man pretended to think, “Nah, I mean, they’re cute but I’m looking for something… more,” He then leaned in, resting his arm on the counter, “A little bland, if I’m being honest with you.”

You forced a smile, but Phil, oh Phil.

He wasn’t smiling. 

Who was this man, no, who was this kid to not see how uncomfortable you were with his god-awful ‘flirting’ skills and judge your taste in your very own store?

“That’s fine, I’m sure we can find something else.” Oh, that pitiful tone of yours. Just how long has this man been bothering you?

You bit down a sigh, placing the bluebells back into their pot before walking back to the back of the counter. You knelt, possibly looking for something else, though Phil wouldn’t blame you if you were doing so to drown him out for a bit.

Phil had listened long enough. Moving off the wall, he clicked on the lock button of his car keys. He spun his keys on his finger as he entered the shop, the rattling sounds prompted the man to follow his figure. His eyebrows knitted further, more so when Phil casually stopped right in front of the counter as if used to coming over.

His eyes darted from Phil’s attire; simple yet sophisticated, and how he carried himself, then the convertible behind him. The sudden insecurity forming in the guy’s mind was a no-brainer.

You must’ve heard the extra pair of footsteps and the keys, “I’ll be right with you!” 

He didn’t respond, opting to eye the man—Chad, which he would later learn—with full of judgement. The latter flinched when their eyes met, though he tried to act cool soon by clearing his throat.

But the stare may have been too much for him, as he asked, his voice less confident than before, “Do I know you?” 

“You tell me.” He responded loud enough for you to hear, and just as he hoped, you straightened, visibly lighting up at the sight of him. 

“Phil!” You cheered, already forgetting about the customer as you rushed over to your husband for a hug, “I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight?”

He shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around you while he caressed the apple of your cheek with his free hand, “Change o’plans. Drove here as fast as I could.” He gave you a lazy smile, more so when you jutted out your bottom lip, pouting at his statement. 

“Phil, you know how I feel about you speeding home,” You sighed, despite leaning into his touch, “But I’m glad you’re back. Safe.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, not with that cheeky smile of his before he pressed his lips onto yours. You could feel the upturn of his lips when you yelped, and he didn’t even bother hiding his amusement—his delighted huff when you returned the kiss.

But before he could feel you, before he could melt into your hands as they held his face, you broke the kiss, almost hiding in his chest for a moment before motioning to the man watching—his face that of panicked realization.

“Phil—Customer…”

Ew.

Well, at least he learnt he had messed with the wrong married woman.

Phil suddenly grinned, and a painfully fake one, judging by the lack of positive emotion, or any emotion in his eyes as he looked at Chad.

“Y’here for an arrangement?”

“U–Uh, no. I’m just… looking around. Thinking of buying one for my, uh, girl.”

The man wasn’t dumb enough to think the smirk on Graves’ face wasn’t the face of mockery. A man who has done enough interrogations to know just how much he was bullshitting.

“Huh, Y’must be lookin’ for a special one if you’re makin’ my girl workin’ overtime,” He glanced at the clock just hanging by the door, his arm not leaving you once, “Y’sleepin’ in the dog house or somethin’?” 

“Phil.” You hissed, and ever so cutely, might your husband add. You briefly apologised to Chad, even if you wanted nothing more than to send him on his way.

“Sorry, sorry,” If you noticed his lack of sincerity, you didn't call him out on it. Graves held his hand out, the corner of his lips twitched when Chad took a step back, “Graves. Commander and CEO. Proud husband of this pretty girl right here.” 

Chad accepted, albeit hesitantly, nearly squawking when Phil purposely squeezed his hand. He had a feeling he wouldn't mind breaking his arm if it weren't for the obvious repercussions and well, you being there. 

“Mr Thompson was just looking for a bouquet for his girlfriend. It might take a minute so you can hang around for a bit while I help him.” You explained, standing close to your husband, now that he was with you.

“Or,” Phil spoke, and you should’ve suspected something was up just by his tone, despite his so-called generous offer, “I help him look for what he needs, while you go ahead and close up, get your bag, lock the back room and all.”

You raised your brows, “Phil, are you sure?”

He hummed, “C’mon. ‘Bout time I put my flower knowledge into good use. And who knows?” He glanced at Chad, sharply. With his eyes on the unwanted customer, he leaned to your side, as if whispering, despite making sure Chad heard him loud and clear, “It’s probably nothin’ more than a lil’ trouble in paradise. Nothin’ I can’t sort out, man to man.”

You thought for a moment. You had your suspicions when Chad stopped by the same time your shift ended. And while you wouldn’t have minded, he wasn’t exactly helpful about his request either. Giving you doubtful answers such as his supposed girlfriend’s favourite colour or the occasion. 

Plus, you were a little eager to be away from Chad, even for a short while.

In the end, you nodded, much to Chad’s horror.

“Okay, I just need to organize a few boxes in the back,” You squeezed Phil's arm, “Thank you. I won’t take long.”

Sliding his hand down your arm, he raised your hand to his lips before letting you go.

“Take all the time y’need, pretty girl,” And as soon as you were out of sight, his voice dropped, the upturn of his lips now in a manner that Chad knew this was going to be anything but a quick talk amongst men about which apology flowers were the best, “Take all the time y’need.”

His smile was nowhere to be seen as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched Chad pinching a leaf of random flower in the guise of interest.

But by the third flower, Graves had enough, surprising Chad with his authoritative tone.

“Y’just gonna stand there and ruin my wife’s flowers or are y’goin’ to buy somethin’ and get out?” 

“I’m…” Chad began but Phil didn’t give him the satisfaction to explain himself. He didn’t need to.

“Look. I’m really fuckin’ tired, and my girl is, too, but I’m sure you’re too busy trying to look down her dress to notice that.”

“That’s—”

“Cut,” He didn’t even need to raise a single finger as the tone he normally used on his team on a bad or serious day was enough to shut the man up, “... the bullshit, alright? Y’can buy all the flowers you want to impress her, save a puppy as soon as you see her coincidentally walk by at the park. Fuckin’ pick-me.”

The impatient smile plastered on his face told Chad everything about the commander’s patience.

“I know a degenerate when I see one.” Chad knew not to trust how calm Phil sounded, “And I know she can defend herself just fine. Hell, I taught her everything she needs to know t’deal with boys like you. But I can tell y’one thing; I’ll do so much worse than what she’s already capable of.”

Graves’ heavy footsteps sounded like a disaster waiting to happen in mere seconds before he stood in the middle of the shop.

“Might wanna get out while y’can.” He gritted out, and Chad didn’t waste a second to find out what would’ve happened if he didn’t that very instance, whether it was from you or your husband.

You returned just in time to find Graves appreciating the tulips, though, unbeknownst to you, he was also slightly miffed that some were stained by Chad’s hands alone.

“Oh, did he find what he needed?”

“‘Guess so. Took off as soon as he figured it out. He didn’t buy anythin’ though,” He swiftly carried the bag for you, pulling you in for a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry he wasted y’time.”

“That’s alright,” You grinning, not expecting him to apologize over that, “I just need to keep the flowers in the back. Mind helping me?”

Of course he didn't mind.

He moved with you, carrying much more stock to the cool room where the unsold flowers were kept. During his second run, he lightly tapped you on the ass, stealing a kiss before telling you to lock the register instead. You did just that, carefully organizing the cash and coins before locking it.

Phil worked with ease, pushing necessary pots and displays to one side and pulling the blinds down like the tasks were at the back of his hand. But he didn’t draw the blinds close all the way, though, leaving a small opening at the bottom of the windows where you and Graves could see the sun shining through and the feet of passers-by. 

But unbeknownst to you, he locked the front door and with great care, avoided the usual click.

He shamelessly glanced at you at every possible moment, watching you sit prettily as you focused on your task behind the counter. 

Once his side was done, he approached you, stannding in between your legs as soon as you locked the register.

“All done.” You smiled, crinkles forming in your eyes.

“Perfect.” He opened up his arms, closing the space in between as you embraced. But just as you basked in the wholesome reunion, you froze up, eyes wide at a familiar tent prodding your stomach. He didn't bother concealing his amusement, his smile grew at your giggles, showering one side of your face with kisses to hear more of you. 

“Thought he'd never leave.” He murmured against your skin with zero shame, which prompted you to pull back.

“You threw him out?” You asked in disbelief.

“He threw himself out,” He shrugged, not exactly lying but telling you the whole truth either. He cooed at your little frown, even holding his hand up in a saluting manner, “I’m serious. Scout's honour.” 

“Were you even a scout?” 

“Nope,” He responded without missing a beat, “But I do know how to tie a knot.” 

“Phil!” You smacked his arm, but it did nothing to deter him, “I wasn't even gone that long.” 

“Four minutes was all I needed.” He brushed his nose against your neck, looping his arms around you. You couldn't help but melt, sighing but more so in contentment than disappointment. Granted, you were anything but the latter, but who knows where your business would be if Phil did, well, whatever to your customers the way he did to Chad.

“He was bothering ya.” You knew it wasn't a question and there was no point denying it, so you hummed in confirmation.

“Kinda figure that out after a while,” You shrugged, though you didn't want him to worry either, “I, uh, had my suspicion as soon as I asked him what he was looking for.”

“Yeah? What did he really tell ya?” 

“Just said he wanted some pretty flowers for a pretty lady, and then,” You mimicked the awkward eyebrow-wiggles he did to you, much to Phil’s amusement and disdain, “And then said no to all of my suggestions.”

Phil’s tutting was akin to a Southern mother's, being his blood and all. That, and he was having second-hand embarrassment—to think Chad thought he'd have a chance using that line on you.

Hell, on anyone.

“It was getting a little embarrassing, honestly.” You couldn't help but snort, only for your smile to grow when he, too, expressed his amusement. 

‘A little’ was putting it lightly.

“You and me, sugar.”  

You leaned your weight against him just as he did against the counter, figuring that this was one of those days where he needed to just relax. Be around you as if you exuded great energy, and in his eyes, you were.

A far cry from the more despicable chaos he and his partnering team have to deal with for a living.

You brushed your fingers along his stubble, smiling to yourself at the familiar, prickly sensation. Ever the perceptive man, he angled his face so your lips were pressed on his instead of his cheek.

It was much needed for the both of you as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Though, you tried not to go too far with it, your nerves rising as your eyes flitted to the door, despite Phil’s breathy reassurance that he locked it.

Noticing your hesitance, he broke the kiss to rest his head in the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled you, more so when his hands languidly moved up and down your body.

But then, his hands didn't stop moving upwards.

He swiftly pulled down the straps of your dress, trailing his lips along your shoulder. Though the dress wasn't fully removed, the way you haphazardly held the front of it against your chest, amplifying your cleavage which was just as alluring as you were topless.

“Phil!” You choked out, and yet, he continued. Licking across your newly exposed skin with the tip of his tongue. Starting from the collarbone, down to your tits when he squeezed your breasts together, and then, sucking on the plush at random spots. Eager to leave a mark wherever he could with shameless sounds of suckling and pops, “Here?!” 

If the way your hand shot up to his hair, massaging his scalp and pulling his head close instead of pushing him away was anything to go by, he knew dead set on making you scream.

He took a step back, encouraging you to stand up before hooking his arms under your ass, lifting you effortlessly to seat you on the counter.

His bulge was snug against you, thanks to his taller stature. The way his hands slid down your thighs prompted you to wrap your legs around him, despite the growing warmth in your face at the lewd display. There was something about the sliver of possibility of being watched that raised both your worries and anticipation, despite the opaqueness of the cream-coloured window blinds.

Plus, the shop wasn't exactly soundproof either.

He leaned forward, forcing you to lie back on the surface. His lips hadn't slowed down since, enjoying your squirms and breathless moans as he peppered your neck in kisses before raising his head.

“My wife's a beaut, isn't she?” He whispered against your temple, rolling one of your tits in between his fingers before sliding his hand down to your thigh, squeezing the plush of it, “Got these boys actin’ stupid around ya.” 

You gasped when his hand slid further under your skirt. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, teasingly pulling them up and wedging the lacy material in between your sopping pussy.

“Even I can't resist her sweet lil’ charm,” He purred, pulling your panties to the side and then bunching the hem of your dress for him to delight in all its glory, “Y’know that, don't cha?” 

He swiped two of his fingers across your lips. Even the softest touch elicited the most delicious squelch he had ever heard. 

He hummed in approval, teasing you to his heart's delight, “But she's also so, so dirty, deep down,” He made sure you made the slightest mess, letting your juices drip bit by bit, down to your tight hole and the counter itself, “And this—this is only f’me to see, right, pretty girl?’ 

He captured your lips with his before you could even muster out a breathless ‘yes’, the kiss ending just as quickly as it happened before tapping your lips with his fingers.

You didn't need to be told, but that didn't mean it was any less embarrassing. But his approving hum at your first, kitten-like lick was encouraging. It had you chasing after his praises, verbal or otherwise. 

His cock was downright throbbing, wishing it was his cock you were eagerly drooling on instead of his fingers, but who was he to say he wasn't enjoying the view in hand either? 

Once he was sure they were wet enough, he slid them out of your mouth, crudely enjoying the string of saliva for a second before dropping his fingers to your cunt. 

He mirrored your parted lips, watching your face scrunch up as he eased in one finger. Your whimper was pitiful, and the slightly wicked side of him couldn’t help but coo at you almost condescendingly, knowing you could handle something much bigger than his mere finger, even if they were much thicker than yours. 

He set a torturing pace, taking in the way your body moved, rolling your hips in hopes you’d have his fingers knuckles-deep in you. The way you half-heartedly covered your face with one hand was endearing, probably too overwhelmed by his unapologetic stare.

Then, he cranked up the speed with two fingers, greedy for more of your juices leaking out each time he moved in and out. And by the time you were clenching around three fingers, he was ruthless with his pace. 

Unforgiving. 

He looked euphoric just from bringing the pleasure to you, tipping his head back as he listened to you struggling to hold back your moans and whines whenever he pulled out to tease and slap at your clit.

“Colour?” As casual as he tried to sound, he was just as breathless as you were.

“Green…” You whined, pleading him to continue, even if it felt like you were overstimulating, “Phil, please… Please…!”

You didn’t have to repeat, for he amped up his pace and chased after the climax when the pitch of your voice heightened, arching your back like you weren’t sure if you wanted him to carry on or push him away when you were getting close.

He didn’t falter, nipping on your shoulder just a tad harder just before you trembled, cumming and clenching hard around his fingers. He cupped your face with his other hand, soothing you from your high with praises and kisses. 

“Such a good girl, my good girl. Always so brave f’me, makin’ the sweetest faces. None of those boys gets t’see what I see.” 

It wasn’t long before he carefully slid his fingers out, comforting you each time you whimpered or twitched.

Opting to continue caressing your face, he took the chance to snag a taste of you. Savouring the one taste he had been dying for each time he was away for work.

But he didn’t finish it all. As much as he wanted to, he needed to save the rest for his cock, itching to have a mere feel of your wetness.

Speaking of, he was straining, standing proud and curved a little as the tip, just a hint of red, nearly touched his belly button as soon as he pulled his trousers down. It yearned to feel you, tight and hot, his extra-vulgar actions were the results of restraining himself. 

He shuddered a little—it was entrancing, holding one of your legs up for him to brush his lips against and seeing his cock slide up and down your pussy lips. 

Even after prepping you well, it felt like his cockhead was breaching your walls. You let out a breathy sigh, tilting your head at the upside windows, tensing up at the sight of passersby’s feet at the foot of the glass.

“What do y’think, pretty girl?” He murmured against your leg, still pushing into you, “Do y’think that Thompson guy’s around, wonderin’ why the window’s closed while the car’s still out there?”

The way your head tilted back against the counter in ecstasy, the last rays of the sun shining down on your skin. Even with the AC still on, it stopped neither of you from sweating. The thinnest layer of perspiration, especially gathering along your throat, down to the valley of your breasts—oh, what a shame it would be if he didn’t have even a single lick of it.  

And he did just that, leaning in to give one of your tits a teasing lick.

Those half-lidded eyes, that drunken smile—oh, he was losing it.

He felt like the most blessed man in the world.

“Eyes on me, bunny. He can listen all he wants but this—it’s you and me.”

And it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your peak, Phil kept his eyes on your facial expression because if it wasn’t the sexiest look he had ever seen before he, too, cums with you. In you.

Holding himself up with one hand beside your head, he used the other to caress your face, allowing you all the time in the world to catch your breath. But truth be told, he had fucked the senses right out of you.

“You alright?” “Mmm…” Your murmurs had him chuckling as he carefully gathered you in his arms.

“Can y'walk? Or do I have to carry you? Because y'know I don't mind either way.” Not especially the latter. He may not be as buff as some of his team but he feels good being able to prove the assumptions wrong. So wrong.

You shook your head, and though none of you were even certain what your answer was, Phil somehow understood, but not before letting you collect yourself for as long as you needed. There was no need to rush. Not now.

“Alright, pretty girl. I can do that.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[spidahwebz]

Graves discovering his partner just listens. Absolute self indulgence cause I love when I can follow people around.

He first gets a hint when you're out together and it gets a little crowed, telling you to "stay close, sweetheart." And you do–wouldn't wanna get lost. And sure, it can be brushed off to just that for now, not wanting to get lost. But when you turn on your heel in the grocery in response to his "follow me." abandoning whatever you wanted to get, he gets curios.

Tries it the next time when you're laying in bed together, he gets up and tells you to "come on." You do, without question. Does it again the next morning after he got ready for work, "let's go, sugar." And suddenly you're with him, receiving a kiss on the head before he gets into his car and drives off. And you don't question it again, just walk back inside after his car is out of sight.

The first time at his place had your nerves running, unsure what to do, where you were welcome and where not. He tells you "sit." While pointing at the couch. And you're practically diving to do so.

Next time he brings you an outfit, tells you to wear that to your next date. As expected, you do so without protest. "Call me when you're finished with work, darlin'." So the first thing you do after clocking out is dialing his number. "Mind getting me a beer, sugar?" You're up without question again, and off to the kitchen. When he drops something he doesn't even have to say anything. Just smiles coyly at you, eyes switching between you and what he's dropped. The next second you're bending down, and handing it back to him.

But when he does comment on it, "like obeying me, don't you? Little submissive, hm?" You pull a face, as if he'd just asked you to roll in shit. "Not really," your tone is almost questioning, as if you have no idea where he got that idea from.

He meets you with raised eyebrows, "No?" The denial is funny, and he cant bite back a chuckle. "Your actions say otherwise, sweetheart." And you still look at him completely clueless, no idea what he's referring to. And yet when he pats his laps and tells you to, "come here." You do so, without hesitation.

He doesn't know if you're really unaware of how you're acting, or if you just don't wanna admit it. Either way, he doesn't push you on it. Deciding to enjoy your quiet submission instead. But you're more likely to find him smirking whenever he tells you "come" and you just do.

[spidahwebz]

Head empty. I’m only thinking of Phillip coming home early one day and catching you desperately humping a pillow while wearing his shirt and moaning his name. 🧎‍♀️

i'm so normal about this i promise (lie). also instead of a pillow, it's a thruster lol. soz

CW: dumbification (LIKE SO MUCH), sex toy used, voyeurism (ish), explicit sex, orgasm control. Nsfw MDNI

He can’t wait to see you. It’s been six months—record-breakingly long for a deployment. He was supposed to stay for another... but he just couldn’t. Decided, fuck it. The main part’s over anyway. He’s leaving the mission in trusted hands.

He’s jittery. So jittery, in fact, that he might ruin this surprise by alerting you too early. The keys jangle noisily in his hand as he tries to unlock the door, breath caught halfway up his throat.

He gets in—and the living room is empty.

Maybe you’re in the kitchen.

Nope. Empty.

Maybe the library?

Wrong again.

Bedroom, then.

As he ascends the stairs, something overtakes him. Panting—gasping—faraway but familiar. His blood boils. A hot, sick dread creeps into his gut. It only grows stronger with every step, with every breath, with the sudden clarity that clicks into place like a trigger being pulled.

Moans. Your moans.

The sound of something wet. Something rhythmic. Slick.

Desperate. Breathy. But not the way it sounds when he’s got you beneath him, whining from overstimulation and cockdrunk on him.

No—this is different. Raw. Frantic.

Anticipating. Needy.

You don’t have to be desperate with him.

His nails dig crescent moons into his palms as he creeps closer, every step calculated, body burning. He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do if he walks in on you ch—

Oh.

My God.

You are getting fucked, sure.

It’s pink. Vibrating. Definitely silicone. And it’s thrusting into you at a steady, brutal rhythm. Your hand grips the base to keep it from slipping out. The buzzing echoes off the bedroom walls, and it’s the only thing louder than your voice.

You're a fucking vision.

Wearing nothing but his shirt—unbuttoned, hanging open. Sweat beading at your collarbones. Thighs trembling, heels digging into the mattress for leverage. Back arched, your head tossed to the side, lips parted in a silent cry before another gasp slips through.

And your eyes—screwed shut in pleasure. Like you’re imagining him there. Like you need him so bad it hurts.

Mouth falling open in breathless chants. Over and over, the same name.

Not incoherent to him.

He knows exactly what you’re saying.

“Phillip—oh, fuck, please, please—ah, fuck—need it, need you, I can’t—”

He stands there. Frozen in the doorway.

Part amused. Part shaken.

Mostly just hard as a rock.

You don’t even know he’s there.

He watches the way your thighs tremble with every movement, how the toy glistens with your slick, how you whimper and moan and fuck yourself like your life depends on it. Like you’d die if you don’t come soon.

He should say something.

Should make a sound.

But he’s too damn stunned. Too turned on. So he just watches.

And fuck, the way you look like this—mindless, overstimulated, soaked and breathless and still begging for him—

He might just ruin his pants before he gets a chance to touch you.

He doesn’t even realise his mouth has been hanging slack until he feels drool threaten to drip. He’s a simple man. There’s nothing a simple man wants to come home to more than this.

His duffel slips off his shoulder with a soft whisper to the ground. Your head snaps up, and the toy is yanked out of you in panic.

“Phillip, I didn’t—”

He holds a hand up, the corner of his mouth tugging into that cocky, knowing smirk.

“Don’t stop on my account, princess. I’m just enjoyin’ the show.”

It’s like he can see the blood rush to your cheeks. The previous flush now eclipsed by burning embarrassment. You’re so fucking cute like this.

You look like a deer in headlights—hair mussed, eyes wide and glassy. He takes that as his cue to saunter forward, slow and predatory, shrugging off his tac vest.

Unbuttons his shirt just enough to tease. A lazy hand to his belt, flicking it open, letting his pants fall to the sides. That slow, deliberate unzip—a warning.

The main show.

“You missed me that bad, baby?” he drawls, voice all syrup and sin. Just mocking enough to make your thighs clench.

He pulls his cock out—thick, flushed, already leaking—and you move closer like you’ve been summoned, eyes locked on the way his fingers curl around it.

You kneel on the bed, expression soft. Vulnerable. Fucked-out. He’s got you exactly where he wants you.

You nod, slow. Almost doltish. Brain still scrambled.

He brings the flared head to your lips and watches your jaw drop, eager to let him rest heavy on your tongue.

“That dumb over the fake thing, huh?” he mutters, low and dangerous. “That thing do you any good?”

You mumble a weak protest around him, eyes wide and fluttering.

He sinks a little deeper.

“No,” he growls, hand tightening in your hair. “Didn’t think so. My poor baby got so fuckin’ needy she forgot how to think straight.”

The pads of his fingers brush your cheek, teasing soft circles.

“You just wanted to come, didn’t you? Got all stupid and messy ‘cause you missed my cock.”

You whimper. You can’t help it.

He grins, all pride and possessive heat.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t forget the difference this time.”

He eases your mouth off him, your throat clenching around the head one last time as he pulls free. The slick pop of it makes your cheeks burn. You gag, lips swollen and jaw aching, and he just nods approvingly as he kicks off his pants.

“Lie down,” he says, casual like he’s asking you to pass him the remote.

You move, legs wobbling as you shift backwards, chest heaving. The bed creaks under your weight.

But it’s not good enough.

He clicks his tongue, voice sharp as a command.

“From the back.”

Your breath stutters. But you obey, because of course you do. You’re already halfway gone. With trembling limbs and fingers that barely work, you manage to maneuver yourself onto your stomach, then push your hips up, ass arched for him like a gift.

You’re shaking like a leaf.

The bed dips behind you as he crawls closer. One broad palm slides up the back of your thigh, slow and deliberate. You twitch when his fingers graze your inner thigh—too sensitive already, your body pulsing with the aftershock of the toy you’d just used.

"Aw, baby," he chuckles, low and rough. “You’re still twitchin’. Did that thing really fuck you up that bad?”

He presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance and doesn’t push in—just rests there, teasing, letting your slick coat him.

You whimper.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t get to be greedy now,” he mutters, hand splaying over your lower back. “Gotta re-train this needy little pussy.”

And then he sinks in.

Slowly.

The stretch is maddening. It burns in the best way, but he keeps his pace achingly measured—inch by thick inch—until he bottoms out with a soft grunt.

You choke on a moan. Arch harder, desperate for more.

But he doesn’t move.

He just stays there.

“I missed this,” he murmurs. “You feel how tight you are, sugar? Clenchin’ down on me like your cunt’s starved.”

You mewl. Wiggle your hips.

He tsks. “Settle.”

A light smack lands on your ass, just enough to make you yelp and go still again.

Then—finally—he starts to move.

But it’s slow. Agonizing. A deep, steady grind. A lazy drag of his cock against every sensitive spot inside you, made worse by the absence of friction.

No quick thrusts. No pounding.

Just controlled, precise motion.

It makes you whine.

You push your hips back—only for his hand to slam down on your hip and hold you there.

“Ah ah,” he warns. “You take what I give you.”

“Phillip,” you moan, voice cracking. “Please, please—I need—”

“Oh, you don’t get to need,” he laughs. “Not after I found you chasin’ your high like a desperate little bunny.”

You sob. Rock your head against the mattress. Every roll of his hips is perfect—but not enough. He’s fucking you like he’s got all the time in the world, and you’re spiraling.

And he knows it.

He lives for it.

“That toy got you so fucked out you forgot what real cock feels like, huh?” he growls, hand sliding up your back. “You let it ruin your pretty little brain?”

You nod, frantic, teary.

He fucks into you a little harder—just once—and your body jolts.

“Yeah, I can tell. You’ll do anything to just get filled, won’t you?”

“Need to come,” you whimper. “Please—”

He snorts. “Already? Sweetheart, you ain’t earned that yet.”

A sharp smack to your ass makes your thighs quake.

"You don’t get to come until you remember."

You cry out as he starts thrusting again—still slow, still controlled—but each stroke now a little meaner, a little deeper, grinding your swollen clit against the sheets with every movement.

The friction is unbearable. You’re dripping, clenching, sobbing into the pillow.

And he’s not even close to done.

“You’re gonna come when I say,” he grits out. “And not a fuckin’ second before. Got it?”

“Y-Yes—sir, yes—”

“Good girl.”

He pulls almost all the way out—then slams back in, and you scream.

He keeps the pace—deep, slow, mean—until your thighs are shaking and the bed sheets are soaked beneath you.

And all the while, he talks.

“Y’know,” he mutters, voice so casual it makes you clench harder, “all I wanted to do was surprise you. Thought I’d come home early, treat my girl right. Six months gone, and I’ve been thinkin’ about nothin’ but gettin’ back to you.”

A particularly harsh thrust makes your entire body jerk. Your cry gets swallowed by the pillow.

“And what do I find?” he drawls, tone laced with amusement. “You, stuffed full’a somethin’ plastic. Moanin’ my name like a goddamn pornstar. That what you been up to while I was gone, baby? Fuckin’ yourself stupid?”

You don’t answer—can’t. The only thing you can manage is a broken sob, knuckles white around the sheets.

“Oh, don’t go quiet now,” he coos, one hand moving to tangle in your hair, yanking your head up just enough so he can hear the way your breath stutters. “You were real vocal earlier. Whinin’ about how much you need me. How you can’t. What was it again?”

He thrusts again, slower this time, deeper, and it pulls a raw, keening sound from your throat.

“Can’t come without me? That what you said, sweetheart?”

You nod frantically, eyes glassy, mouth slack. You’re drooling onto the sheets. Fucked dumb and desperate and he hasn’t even let you come yet.

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”

He pulls out almost entirely—just the head left inside—and grinds his hips in a tight circle that makes your toes curl.

“Poor baby,” he murmurs. “Bet that little toy couldn’t even reach where I’m hittin’ right now. Could it?”

You try to answer, but all that comes out is a garbled whimper.

“Didn’t think so. All that buzzin’, and you still couldn’t get off.”

He finally fucks back in, hard, and your vision blacks out for a second.

“And now look at you. Shakin’. Cryin’. So full’a me you can’t even think.”

He leans down, chest pressing flush to your back, hand sneaking around to rub slow, brutal circles against your clit.

Your whole body convulses.

“You close again, sugar?” he whispers in your ear, voice so tender it makes your heart ache. “You gonna come for me this time?”

“Yes—yes, please, please—”

His fingers still.

“No.”

Your sob echoes in the room.

“Not yet,” he says, almost apologetic. “Gotta undo what that toy did to you first. Rewire this pretty brain ‘til all you can think about is my cock.”

He fucks into you again—steady, perfect strokes—and you’re beyond words. A shaking, dripping mess, eyes rolled back, every nerve ending on fire.

He kisses your shoulder, deceptively sweet.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll let you come.”

Another deep thrust.

“Just gotta ask nicely, bunny. You can do that, can’t ya?”

Your hips twitch, trying to push back into him, but he grips them tight—stilling you with nothing but strength and a cruel little laugh.

“Oh, no. That ain’t askin’.” He leans in close again, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “That’s bein’ greedy.”

He pulls out slow, achingly slow, and you sob at the loss—your body rocking, chasing after him. But he slaps your ass with a flat palm, just once, sharp and scolding.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Please—please, Phillip, I wanna come—need it so bad, I—”

You can’t even finish. You’re babbling, slurring, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. Your legs have long since stopped cooperating. You’re held up only by the grip he’s got on your hips and sheer, pathetic desperation.

“Aw, baby,” he hums, dragging the tip of his cock through your soaked folds, not pushing in—just teasing, featherlight. “You sound real dumb.”

You whine. “I’m sorry—”

“Mmm.” He slides in just a bit. Barely an inch. You hiccup on a moan.

“That fake dick really fucked your brains outta you, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Good thing I’m home to fix that.”

And then he slams in to the hilt.

You scream—an honest, gut-wrenching cry—your whole body trembling like a live wire. He doesn’t let up. Starts fucking you again in deep, unrelenting thrusts that send you crawling up the bed, only for him to yank you right back.

“You know what that toy didn’t do?” he pants, words still somehow steady despite how hard he’s fucking you. “Didn’t make you beg. Didn’t make you cry. Didn’t make you earn it.”

You can’t take it. You’re choking on sobs, legs kicking helplessly as your orgasm builds again, your body already strung out, nerves frayed.

“Please—please, let me come, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good—!”

“Oh, now you remember how to talk.” He chuckles, breath hot against your neck as he leans down, hand on your clit again, rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts. “That’s it. Let that pretty mouth beg for it.”

“Please—fuck—please, I wanna come—I need it, need you—”

“Then fuckin’ take it.”

He snaps his hips forward, hard, and the second he gives the word, your body shatters.

You come with a broken, strangled sob—squeezing so tight around him it punches the air from his lungs. Your thighs quake. Your nails tear at the sheets. 

He fucks you through it. Doesn’t stop. Not even when your cries turn into mewling whimpers, not even when your whole body goes limp.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes. “That’s it, bunny. Come all over me. Just like that.”

You’re spent—barely conscious—and he’s still going.

Because he hasn’t come yet.

And you’re not done until he says so.

[spidahwebz]

Types of lingerie they'd go a little feral over — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

CW: mid/plus-size reader, photos of people wearing lingerie!, mentions of sex/sexual activities

Photos are not indicative of reader's body type/skin colour/other physical attributes! Just meant to be examples, but us bigger girls deserve some rep on here (but also why is it so hard to find cute pics of mid/plus-size girlies that aren't ads or extremely edited?)

All rights go to owners of the photos! I tried to crop out their faces as best I could <3

John Price

Price would love anything feminine. He adores when you play into his housewife kink, parading around the house in babydoll dresses and fur-lined robes (preferably sheer). He wouldn't even bother with taking the pieces off once he gets his hands on you, simply pulling and adjusting where necessary. Not above ripping either, but don't worry, he'll gladly buy you some new sets. Maybe he should get you some of those crotchless panties, poppet, would save him a lot of hassle.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

Listen, as much as he loves it seeing you all dolled up, there is nothing that gets him going quicker than you in some raggedy, hole-ridden comfy clothes, preferably when they're his. His boxers framing your plump ass so nicely, digging into your flesh a bit when you move and his shirt doing nothing to hide the jiggle of your tits while your nipples poke through the fabric. If he sees you like this, his hands are all over you in a split second. God forbid your shirt is cropped, showing off your soft tummy and the underside of your breasts — you couldn't pry him off with a crowbar.

(you cannot tell me Johnny doesn't own some dumbass boxers like this)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

In fear of repeating myself, I think Simon would also go a little dreamy-eyed over you in your comfies. Except, unlike Johnny, he loves those sweet little pj-sets you wear. He's still a little taken aback every time he comes home to you curled up on his — your — couch. The realization that he has something this sweet to come home to — that he has a home at all, hitting him like a freight train. Like Price, doesn't bother taking your pajamas off when he pounces on you. Just makes it easier for him to tuck you into bed after he's done with you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Garters, belts, straps, buckles, the whole thing. And best believe he's the one picking them out, too. You'll randomly find boxes on your bed, the contents in different styles, colours, fabrics. He insists you model them for him, or send him pictures if he's deployed. The sets are an absolute nightmare to get into, but he'll gladly help you take them off, darlin'. Don't mind him though, if he snaps a photo or two in the process. Also loves it when you wear lingerie as part of an actual outfit. What can I say, the man loves showing you off (with the knowledge he's the only one that gets to see the full sets and everything underneath them later).

König

Anything resembling some cheap halloween costume from party city. It honestly doesn't matter to him what; sexy secretary, naughty nurse, you name it. Literally whatever. He will lose his mind a little if you go as far as to engage in some roleplay pertaining to whatever you're wearing — acting like he's your boss or your patient. Oh, a pair of animal ears can and will make his eyes roll back in his head. (He will, however, ensure that your outfits are of relatively good quality — they've gotta outlast a least a few rounds, Schatzi).

Philip Graves

Ugh, he's so nasty (affectionate). He wants you to look hyper-feminine. His perfect little all-american wife (even if you've never set foot in the usa, or don't yet wear a ring on your finger) in her hyper-feminine lingerie, waiting for her soldier to come home. Frilly bras, lacy undies and silky night dresses in white or pink or any pastel shade. He gets off on the innocence they exude — makes him want to ruin you. And then wife you up. Maybe give you a baby or two.

Alejandro Vargas

Corsets!!! Or anything somewhat structured, really. This man adores the shape of your body no matter what, and the way the corset only accentuates the curve of your waist and pushes your tits up so deliciously has him rock fucking hard. If you choose to add some thigh-highs to that with the plush fat of your thighs spilling over the edge you may as well have killed him. He also has this weird infatuation with the marks the corset leaves on your skin after you (or he) take it off.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

This poor man nearly faints the first time you wear lingerie for him (and pretty much every time after that). It doesn't particularly matter to him what it is, but he does like it when you stick to the classics: simple lacy bra and panty set. He likes that it makes you feel confident and (relatively) comfortable, as your comfort is always his number one priority. He also just thinks the simplicity of the sets helps accentuate the beauty of your body, rather than distract from it.

Valeria Garza

Anything expensive. Like, crazy expensive. She has the money, amor, why not spend it on something she enjoys? She'll make sure you only wear the highest quality fabrics (and that goes for all your clothing, by the way, she likes taking care of her girl). There are diamonds glittering all over your body, highlighting all your curves and twinkling with every move you make, and a nice string of pearls disappearing between your folds.

(I couldn't find ANY photos of this type of lingerie on bigger bodies, my apologies. Rest assured Valeria will get everything custom-made for you — remember, only the best for her girl)

[spidahwebz]

If you took one of the boys home, and you had a big ol' dog, I think that...

John would do the thing where instead of petting the dog, he just lovingly pats it's side..."The dad pat". And he's definitely sharing whatever he eats with the dog, too (as long as it's safe for the dog, ofc...he wants to spoil the dog, not make it sick).

Kyle would be on his best behavior with the dog...Until you're not looking. As soon as you leave those two alone, he riles the dog up. You'll be on an important call when there's just a cacophony of barking, play-growling, and stomping from a few rooms over.

Since Johnny doesn't like dogs all that much, he would try to stick close to your side...Or wherever the dog will leave him alone. But alas, the dog definitely decides that he's their new best friend, father, playmate, and everything else that involves Soap being as close as possible. Wherever the Scot goes, the big puppy isn't far behind.

Simon is on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to Johnny. Simon LOVES dogs, and he comes prepared. Every time Simon comes through your door, expect a gift for you...And one for the dog. Suddenly your dog has a skull bandana to match Ghost, and looks almost disappointed when you come home without him sometimes.

The Shadows already have some German Shepard's and Belgian Malinois on the team...So when Phillip sees that you have a dog that's bigger than the ones he's used to working with, he's excited. Phillip is high-energy, your dog has a lot of pent up energy...Take them to the park, and just watch them both run, play frisbee, fetch...They could do this for hours. And when you get home and the dog is sound asleep, Phillip will still have enough energy for you.

König would IMMEDIATELY try picking the dog up like a baby. As soon as he knows the dog won't try to rip his face off, he just scoops it up into his arms. Half as a show of strength ("Look, Schatzi...They weigh nothing to me!"), and half because I can't help but see him as an animal lover. And if you're watching a movie, or cuddling, or doing anything together, nine out of ten times he'll want the dog to come. Sorry, but that's his baby now, too.

[spidahwebz]

★Phillip Graves Headcannons★

~Reader as his s/o~

Content warnings: half fluff, half suggestive.

SFW

♤ You will put on some pounds while dating him. It's inevitable. This mans got an appetite and he quells it through fishing, hunting, barbecuing, and frying. There's always a tub full of hush-puppies in his home at all times, with a nice gallon of sweet tea in the fridge.

♤ Contrary to popular belief, Phillip is not bigoted. (Just because a character is Southern or rural does not automatically mean they are buffoons and hateful. That is a classist stereotype that keeps farmers, poor people, and many others seen as inhuman, therefore “justifying” the reason that they are exploited) I mean, from what I could find, he grew up near/around Dallas. That is a majority minority city.

I believe he does that tight-lipped frown he does whenever someone says something he disagrees with.

♤ Is verrrryyyy touchy. Like, he doesn’t just have his hand on your hip, oh no. His arm is around your waist, squeezing so close to his side, sneaking a kiss whenever he can. His hold is tight. Nobody doesn’t know your his.

♤ He put a ring on it immediately. Tried to in the first few months, even. He already knew whether you liked silver or gold, what cut you wanted, and what other gem/crystal you liked besides diamond to get them both together. When you said it wasn’t a good idea, he gave you a ring with you and his birthstone on it… and diamond, with the top quality metal. He kept the other ring anyway, even if he didn’t propose right then.

NSFW

♤ Missionary all the way. He’s a bit old-fashioned, finds anything else a showy and fake, sticking to the classics. If you insisted on something else, he’d stay stuck to you like glue if he couldn’t see your face, being extra gentle.

♤ With the whole gaining a few pounds thing, he prefers some meat on your bones. If you don’t have much, he’ll make sure to offer some more rolls and add a little more butter to the pan. He was ecstatic the day he saw a little more of your ass peeking out of your underwear. He almost came in his

♤ Worshipping. Worshipping, worshipping, worshipping. That’s what sex is to him, showing mutual appreciation and affection towards the other. But he’s always been so used to giving it that if you ever did it to him, he wouldn’t know what to do. Probably be twitchy and flushed like a tomato, jerking and flinching at any touch.

♤ Like a teenage boy. His sex drive is truly wild. He will be exhausted and tired and his whole body hurting and he will still be trying to crawl between your legs. Needs it, like air. Even if he is fucked-out, he will just fall on top of you and grind slowly. Happy wife, happy life as they say.

♤ With being touchy, that does not stop at just a firm arm around you. Has no problem smacking your ass in front of everyone. Hell, you should expect it if you wear any tight pants. Sitting on his lap? He’s got his head laying on your chest, rubbing up and down your thighs, the edge of his fingers slipping ever so slightly past your panties. Standing in front of him? Hands to hips like thors hammer, your back directly against his chest. Cold? He’ll warm you up. Meet him in the bathroom.

[spidahwebz]

I wish they could invent a medical device that temporarily transfers your symptoms and pain to the doctor treating you and it worked like a shock collar. “I think light exercise would-.” and then bam they’re rolling around the floor clutching their stomach in agony and dry heaving.

[spidahwebz]

SLOBBERING OVER YOUR INTERN READER POSTS!!

maybe the other 141 men would like to join in teasing(?) the reader :}

Soap tries exactly once.

He finds some excuse to give you papers or something, snags you out in the hallway. He leans into ur space, voice a low gruff when u take the papers "hm. Good kid, ye know just how to obey dont you?"

You hit him with the most unimpressed and disgusted look gaz has ever seen, nose scrunched and lips pulled back. "What the fuck did you just call me? Im like, four years younger than you dude. Fuck off."

....yeah. suffice to say it doesnt work out.

[Pt one and pt two if u want]

[spidahwebz]

ur intern drabble was TOP TIER and I will give u my first born for a part 2

You thought price would stop at some encouraging words and shoulder pats? Nah man, hes making full use of that daddy kink.

Its all about the subtle things. The way he leans over your shoulder with a hand on your desk, caging you against it to look at some papers. Or how his hand drifts just a bit closer to the nape of ur neck when he says "good job, kid."

You dont pick up on it, convinced ur own infatuation is making things more explicit than they really are, but the others certainly do. Gaz sees the way price crowd you against walls in the hallway, chatting in low voices about *something* that makes you smile and look away. Soap notices how eager you are to do something when price says "be good for me, okay kid?", even if its something you've expressed fear over before.

Ghost probably sees the most of it though, bc price knows his lieutenant wont gossip. On one occasion he walked into prices office to see you laying on the sofa tucked against the wall, head on prices thigh. Not technically scandalous, but it definitely draws attention considering price is a captain and youre a college student half his age.

The worst part is, the guys have no idea what price says to you half the time, bc its either behind closed doors or whispered into your ear. Imagine how they'd react if they knew price would lean over u at the breakfast table just to mutter "behave yourself today, kid. You wanna make your old man proud, dont you?"

[spidahwebz]

Price who knows damn well younger!reader has a daddy kink and uses it to his full advantage.

Ur a college kid pulling an internship on base (idfk dont ask me), constantly overworked and under cared for. The first time price spoke with you, just to drop off some papers, he took note of the way you eyes roved over his body. Hes not surprised, hes been around and knows what young people like you are into.

Though, he does abuse this knowledge just a little. Whenever he sees more than two empty energy drinks on ur desk he leans against ur office doorframe with a carefully practiced disappointed look. "Really, kid? Why dont we drink some water instead?" He tosses a water bottle and granola bar to you "here. Be good and finish that."

Price learns youll do anything for a warm hand on ur shoulder and a proud smile. Soon hes got you eating proper meals and avoiding excessive caffeine. Ghost lowkey side eyes price when the captain leans over ur shoulder to whisper "good jod, kiddo." When u show off ur grades.

But hey, youre doing great, and you do seem alot happier. So ghost keeps his comments to himself and quietly adds 20 to the betting pool next time he sees gaz.

[spidahwebz]

It will get cold again eventually. The summer will not last forever. I’m not doomed to live in this unbearable heat for all eternity. <- said while gripping the countertop so hard that the tile is starting to crack

[spidahwebz]

If I’ve learned anything from about 25 years of actively being engaged in fandom, it’s this: fuck everybody else.

Your favorite character ain’t the fandom’s favorite character? Fuck ‘em.

Your ship is the rarepair or the one people think is icky? Fuck ‘em.

You like the tropes and meta and character analysis that make other people roll their eyes? Fuck ‘em.

Engage with fandom in the ways that make you happy and comfortable and fulfilled and fuck everybody else. Like the things you like because you like them, because not everybody else is gonna love them the way you do.

Be cringe and be free, hallowed be thy name, goddamn.

[spidahwebz]

hate when youtubers change the title and thumbnail on an existing video to drive new engagement. this is not my beautiful house this is not my beautiful wife.

[spidahwebz]

have some more sweaty men