#gpdrecs

[the-californicationist]

Riptide

Price/FReader for @glitterypirateduck's Oh, Captain! challenge 🩷

Challenge #2 (First time being intimate) and #91 (Snuggling under the stars)

TW: female reader, come play, a bit of casual exhibitionism

After a long mission, you’re slowly making your way back to England, hitching rides with local extraction teams to avoid Russian detection. Somewhere in the Mediterranean, you and the 141 make camp on an island beach and discover an old bottle of rum. Once the sun sets, the rum goes straight to your head, and you and your captain get tangled up in a hammock. 

The captain was dressed in his boonie hat, a pair of running shorts, and nothing else, swaying back and forth gently in an old rope hammock. The sunset glowed ruby red, just like the tip of his cigar, and the heat of the day slowly surrendered to a cool, island night. 

You’d never seen a pure purple sky before, and you watched it fade until the stars came out, twinkling on the horizon line just above the crashing waves. Your toes were being lapped at by the bright white foam, and every time the tide came toward you, it licked at your skin deeper and deeper, threatening to pull you into its riptide, taking you along with it, claiming you for the sea. 

Gaz, Soap, and Ghost were chatting by the fire, nursing one of the bottles of rum they’d discovered amongst the old shipping crates. You’d been skeptical at first, but when Price took a big long swig right in front of you, proving it wasn’t poison, you followed him into the drink. The two of you had made half a bottle disappear before he grew oddly quiet, giving you a strange look and retreating to his hammock bed. 

You peered over at him again. A steady flow of blue, milky smoke floated up from his full lips, tangling itself in his beard before blowing away with the night wind. You wanted to taste it. You wanted to feel that fire of his on your tongue. You wanted to be burnt by it, to smolder into glowing embers and ash right along with him. 

You looked over your shoulder to make sure the men were distracted before changing out of your wet sports bra. You were wearing a white button down over your black bra and panties, every bit as utilitarian as you had been trained to be, but the damp fabric was making you cold. And perhaps, if he chose to take a look, now that your breasts were unbound, a certain captain might be able to peer into the gaping neckline to see your nipples. You wanted him to see them. 

Trying to be very casual about it, you marched over to the roaring bonfire where the boys were sitting and hung your bra with the other drying clothes. You were all in some state of undress, but as you approached, their boisterous conversation lulled, and they watched you fidget once more with your top, choosing to unbutton it just one button further. 

“Tsk… You got it bad, sergeant,” Gaz whispered, nodding over to Price, judging you shamelessly. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “So?”

“Both of you,” Ghost shook his head, taking another swig from the bottle. 

Before you could ask what he meant, Soap slung his arm around your shoulder and whispered in your ear, 

“Just watch.”

Then, he let out a loud wolf-whistle and stood up with you, spinning you around the fire. The other boys laughed, understanding his game. 

“Bonnie lass! You’ve got moves, hen, I’ll give you that.”

“Aye, she does. Been hitting the gym, haven’t you, babes. Quads are lookin’ tight,” Gaz commented loudly. 

You realized they were trying to goad the captain, making him jealous. Sure enough, he was staring right at you, his bright eyes shining in the orange blaze of the fire, even though he was too far to do anything about it. He took another drag from his cigar, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you. 

Ghost shook his head again and muttered under his breath, 

“Gonna wake the dragon if you’re not careful, you muppets.”

You smiled, taking the bottle of rum from his hands and tipping it back, letting the sweet liquor flow down your throat. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand and returned it to Ghost, making your way over to the hammock. 

Price watched your approach the whole time, and maybe you added a little extra sway to your hips as you tread through the sand, and maybe… maybe you let the wind billow under your button down, making the gap wider, showing more and more of your breasts until it was almost indecent. 

“Got room for one more?”

He watched you from his swinging bed, making you wait for his response, puffing his smoke toward your bare belly where your shirt was knotted up. Then, in that deep voice of his, he nodded and said, 

“Aye, if you’re willing to be the little spoon, Sergeant.”

“Sure,” you shrugged, sitting on the edge of the ropes carefully, putting your weight in the middle and lowering yourself until you were laying with your back against his hairy chest, feeling the stickiness of his skin, coated in salt and sand and sweat. Your feet tangled together. He did not move to untangle them, so neither did you. 

He was quiet behind you, but you could feel his breathing. Every now and then, creamy bands of smoke would tumble across your cheek. You followed it with your nose, looking back at him, scooting down a bit so you could see his face.

“Can I try?” You eyed the cigar. 

“You know how?” He asked gently.

You shook your head. It was a lie. You knew how to smoke cigars; who didn’t? But, you wanted him to feel like he was showing you something for the first time. More than that, you wanted to see how he would teach you. The butterflies in your belly railed against your nerves, fluttering like mad to see him make you into his student. 

He handed you the stick, giving you his commands, 

“Pull it into your mouth, but not your throat. Keep it on your tongue. Taste it. When you’ve had enough, let it all out.”

You stared into his bright blue eyes as you followed his instructions. You sucked in the smoke, feeling the heat and tasting the sweetness of the tobacco. You let it linger on your tongue, and then you blew it out, letting it coat his chin and flow around his neck like a smoky collar. 

“Mm,” he murmured, disapproving, “Too fast, love. Like this.”

He took the cigar and put it to his lips, taking in a huge puff. Then, to your surprise, he leaned over you, putting his mouth in front of yours close enough to kiss you, but he didn’t. He let the smoke fall out of his mouth and into yours, watching it pool into your lips and beyond your teeth. It filled your senses, making you reel from its intensity. Price had a gleam in his eye, and you knew he was trying his best to get under your skin. 

You smiled back. Two could play at this game. 

After the smoke cleared, he pulled back, leaning away from you but still looking at your face, waiting for your reaction. 

“It got cold quick, didn’t it?” You let out a little shiver. 

“Sure did,” he nodded, smirking, “Maybe if you had more clothes on, you’d be warm.”

“Do you want me to put more clothes on?” Your voice dripped with lust, your desire for him wholly unmistakable. 

When he looked down at you now, his pupils were blown wide, inky black, taking all of you in, memorizing you like there’d be a test. His gaze fondled you, making you feel like he was peeling you apart even though he hadn’t laid a single finger on you yet. His eyes traced down your neck and into your top, stopping to stare with wonder at your bare tits in the open fold of the shirt.

With the cigar still balanced between his fingers, he used his thumb to delicately lift the fabric away from your neck, peering inside like a newly opened gift, his eyes wide with excitement. You wanted his fingers to touch you, but he played with the buttonline of the shirt instead, making it gap more and more until your breasts were almost fully exposed to the cool night air. 

You made a show of glancing over to the boys by the fire, whispering to him,

“They’re gonna see us.”

“Aye,” he said matter-of-factly, moving to untie the bow of the tail of your shirt, trying to peel it off of you like you were a ripe fruit. 

Suddenly, he took a final drag of the cigar and tossed it forward into the sand. It smoldered there, half-buried. Your body prepared for him to squeeze your tits, to pinch your nipples cruelly, to satisfy his obvious hunger… but, it never happened. Instead, he lay his hand on your belly, using his fingertips to pet you, lazily caressing you in small circles. 

It was making you squirm. You wanted him to go further. He seemed so hungry for your body and yet here he was, holding himself back. You rolled your ass into his crotch, hunting for the hard prod of his cock. You felt it, and he let out a gravelly sigh. Success. 

Yet, it didn’t change his tempo. He kept caressing you, petting your ribs, never quite reaching the swell of your breast, but stopping short over and over. 

You reached back and put your hand on his furry belly, full of rum and relaxed from his odd position in the hammock. Beneath your hand, his skin shuddered, feeling every movement that you made and responding to it eagerly. Inch by inch, you made your way to the elastic band of his trunks, reaching inside, searching for his hard rod. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Sergeant,” he whispered. His voice was soft and deep, almost too low to hear. 

You needed him, and you were about to show him exactly how much. When you found his cock, you pulled it out of his trunks and shoved down your panties with your fingers, fumbling around with the fabric, trying your best to stay quiet. You rocked your hips back, allowing his head to slide between your legs and press up against your wet folds. Without his help, you couldn’t fit him inside of you, but you rocked against him anyway, smearing your stickiness all over his shaft. 

Back and forth you rubbed him, working yourself up into a fever. Still, he did not help you. He didn’t even move to fondle you. His hand never plucked at your nipples, and he did not explore your swollen lips hidden behind your panties, the same lips his drooling dick was rutting through. 

The elastic of your panties trapped him inside with you, keeping him close. Otherwise, he just went on with his sensual touching, brushing your hair from your face, running a finger along the curve of your rib cage. 

“So wet. All for me, soldier?” He hissed into your ear. 

“Yes, sir,” you panted. 

“Shh. Slow down. Breathe with me.”

You were tucked in closer to his chest, and you matched his inhales and exhales, your own body rising and falling with him as the hammock swayed you back and forth. You watched the boys laughing and joking. If they had noticed you, they were giving you your privacy. 

“That’s it. We’ve got all the bloody time in the world. What’s your rush?”

You looked back at him, pushing your nose against his scruffy jaw,

“Want you to touch me, Captain… please.”

“How do you want me to touch you, soldier?” He moved his hand beneath your shirt collar for the first time and you held your breath, “With my hands?” Before you could answer, his mouth closed over your earlobe, suckling at it, lightly kissing your neck, “Or with my mouth?”

“Yes, sir…” You let out a small mewl, trembling under his touch. 

He chuckled darkly, 

“Greedy little girl…”

When he finally ran his palm over your pert nipples, you jerked from the pleasure. It shocked you, and you felt yourself melt between your legs. His calloused hand was all you could think about. When he used his thumb and forefinger to lightly pull at your peaks, you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud. Instinctively, your body bucked into him, painting his cock with layer after layer of your slick joy. 

You watched as he snaked his hand out of your shirt and licked his fingertips. Then, he returned them to your breast, slipping his spit over your sensitive flesh, heightening your sensations. 

He shifted his weight and your shoulder fell back, twisting your torso until your breasts were freed from your shirt. You were fully on display, the light of the fire dancing across your skin. If the boys looked over at you, they’d see everything. They could watch how their sunkissed captain was craning his neck, knocking his hat back to lick and suck gently on your nipple, playfully plucking at the other one absentmindedly. 

You had to bite your cheek so you couldn’t scream, but Price saw the panicked look in your eyes. He paused, reminding you,

“C’mon, love. Breathe for me. Relax. You’re alright.”

The only problem was when you did finally relax, you felt the bright, crackling sense that you were about to come. 

“I can’t,” you hissed through your teeth, “You’re going to make me come. I’m gonna come. I’m… I can’t…”

“You can,” he suckled your breast deeper into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, “Deep breath in, let it all out. Let it come. That’s it. Good girl.”

You knew he had felt you come. You didn’t even have a chance to hide it. You were bucking against him hard enough to make wet little noises from your grinding. Your panties were wet. You’d come so hard it had felt like you had a bruise deep inside of your belly, and your legs shivered, quaking from his barely-there touch. 

“Beautiful…” He commented, returning to his delicate sucking, “So eager.” 

You were beyond consciousness. Everything was gleaming and glittering in your vision, and you could feel the flush of blood moving up your chest and onto your cheeks, hot and full of sexual energy. 

“You want me to touch you?” He asked quietly, hard as a stone but seemingly unbothered by your ecstasy. 

You nodded, whispering your desperate yeses to him. 

“In front of my men?” There was a darkness in his voice that felt like a hand gripping you around your throat. 

Shame and erotic desire warred in your belly. You nodded anyway, too cock-starved to care. You’d never wanted anyone so badly in your whole life. 

Price’s hand moved lower, flat against your skin, and his pinky finger dipped into the waistband of your underwear. His hand cupped your mons, finding his cockhead nuzzled beneath your clit, nudging the tight bundle. He used his hand not to touch you, but to instead hold his dick and draw little circles in your flesh with it, moving it against you rhythmically. The soft head swiped below your clit over and over, enough to tease and not nearly enough to soothe. 

“Soaked, love. So wet that I can smell you. So sweet.”

You turned your head to look at him. You wanted to see his face, wanted to see desire painted there, and it was. His eyes were watching you like a wolf, witnessing you fall limp like easy, pliant prey. 

“When you come,” he smiled, knowing you were getting close again, “I want you to look at me. Don’t look away. Show it to me.”

“Yes, sir…”

You struggled to hold his gaze. Your body was doing everything it could to fight you, to force you to close your eyes in the face of your pleasure. As you felt yourself approach that glaring point of no return, you locked eyes with him, pleading with him, begging him for help he couldn’t give you. 

“Captain!” You gasped breathlessly. 

“Don’t… don’t look away,” he growled from his throat with a half-moan that revealed his desire. 

You were bursting from the inside out, and it felt like you had caught fire. Your skin was hot, and you broke out in a sweat, the salty sheen making your sunburnt skin glow. 

“Good,” Price purred, “So good, love. So pretty.”

You rested your forehead against his neck. He hadn’t even put his cock in you, and you felt like you’d been through hell — or heaven. One or the other. Maybe both. You were dizzy. 

You felt his heart slamming into his chest, and you could smell the tobacco lingering on his breath. He was still pushing his cock against you, and your body continued to make loud, sticky come for him, enough to drip and smear onto your thighs. 

You looked out at the dying bonfire. The boys were quiet now, laying around, aiming for bed. As the fire lost its height, Price became emboldened. 

He fisted his cock more vigorously, jerking himself against you, his huge hand bulging inside of the fabric of your panties.

“So fuckin’ messy, love. So wet for me. Gorgeous,” Price snarled, talking into your neck in a hoarse whisper. You could tell he was approaching his own charged bliss.

You kissed his neck, sucking on his skin, enjoying each and every sigh. Your body was begging for him, contracting over and over, wishing for something to squeeze. As if he could read your mind, Price sank a thick finger into your pussy as he jerked himself off onto your folds, finding some sort of punishing pattern, ripping another round of joy from you. 

He moved his mouth over yours, letting it hang slack, sharing your breath and resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were watching yours, showing you his orgasm just as you had been made to show him yours. He was right. It was beautiful. You could see the sparking desire in his eyes, built up with a sort of intensity that was almost frightening. Price cried out under his breath, right into your open lips, his face full of serene relief. 

Then, you felt something warm and slick coating his hand and your lips. You realized he was coming on your folds, painting your soft skin with his white, thick cream. It was everywhere; you were so sensitive, you could feel it. It dripped onto your swollen clit, and you could feel it slide down into your stretched hole where his fingers were making you tremble. Your panties were soaked through, and you realized he was using his hand to pull out more and more of your juices, letting them run down your legs and into the cleft of your ass. 

He stilled himself, breathing heavy, still gazing into your face, his eyes full of longing. Then, he pulled his cock away, letting the wet tip loll against your ass cheek. His fingers slid out of you, one by one, ever so gentle, and he used them to rub his orgasm into your flesh like lotion, mixing you together in a lurid ritual. Carefully, he removed his hand from your panties entirely, replaced the elastic where it belonged, and began to massage your pussy through the fabric, making sure his sticky come was there to stay. 

“That was…” Price sighed. 

“So fucking good, Captain,” you smiled, petting his cheek, letting the sway of the hammock rock you as you came down from your high.

You looked down at your legs, gleaming in the low firelight,

“I better go wash off.”

“Don’t you dare,” Price snarled, hugging you closer to him, trapping you with his heavy arms. He grinned slyly down at you, taking an obvious glance down at your panties, teasing you, “You’re gonna keep me right here, love,” he shoved his huge hand between your legs, resting his palm over your clit, “At least until they start their snoring. Then…” You felt him teasing your pulsing hole through the wet fabric, “I’ll give you some more. Let you keep it nice and warm inside this time.”

If you liked this story, please consider reblogging! ✌️🩷

[nrdmssgs]

You weren't supposed to laugh

Masterlist

My submission to @glitterypirateduck 's Alex Keller Challenge November 10-19 Promt used: №27 You weren't supposed to laugh Pairing: Alex Keller x Reader TWs: no Friends to lovers, fluff, confession.

"You're an egoist, Alex Keller," he mutters irritated to himself, fastening his pace, almost running, ignoring cold heavy water drops landing on his head.

How long did he knew her? Five years? Or seven? How long does he have this hopeless crush? Five years? Or... Yes, he was done for from day one. She had this certain warmth surrounding her, a serenity that contrasted sharply with the intensity of Alex's work. The world could descend deeper into a chaos, but she remained a constant in his life, a pillar of support, he selfishly was afraid to lose. So Alex Keller, the devoid of fear Echo 3-1, kept his mouth shut, just holding on to her, even as a friend only.

"A coward!" His insults are spilled through gritted teeth. Alex was ready to risk his life again and again, but didn't have the courage to confess his feelings. The stakes seemed too high, his chances - almost non-existent. Why would ever decide, he was the right guy for her after all?

He was almost never there, when something bad happened to her. Alex didn't hold her, when she had to put down her old dog - he was on the other part of globe, fighting. He didn't distract her with a movie night and snacks, when she had to wait for a result of a quite serious medical test - he was sleeping in a transport between two missions. He wasn't even there to cheer her up, after her project, she worked on so hard, got rejected - he has just taken the car to a service station and was walking out of it on his two. She didn't specify in the first place, when would the presentation take place, but Alex feels terrible for not asking her every week, every day, if necessary, when is the D-day for her project. And because of that, he found out the bad news per phone call.

She sounded exhausted. She was never a whiny type, but this time Alex heard tears in her voice. Too much effort was put into this work, too many sleepless nights. It broke his heart to hear her like that, and he panicked.

"...Useless dumbfuck." He stops for a moment, replaying their call in his mind.

For some reason he decided, he needs to make her laugh at any cost. Maybe it was the pain in how her 'hey, can you please talk to me for a few minutes?' sounded. But Alex was lost. At first, he tried his stupid jokes. As many as he could remember. When it didn't help - he switched to imaginary scenarios.

"Hey, you know, what would be funny? If you brought a soldier on your presentation! So that every time, your clients interrupted you or paid more attention to a view outside their windows - the soldier would harshly snap at them. 'Following every single letter of this debriefing could save your life, private!' or something like that..." Alex doesn't really control the words leaving his mouth as long as they make her laugh. And he actually succeeds, because in a few moments she starts to chuckle. So he goes on, telling her, how would her day would go, if she was followed by a military guy in a full gear and a death stare ready for anyone, who is about to cross her path.

"He would scare others off, you know?"

"With his glare or with his guns?"

"With his bizarre hairstyle. You know how your hair start looking after a week of constant sandstorms?"

Her laughter is a light, tinkling melody to his ears, reminiscent of wind chimes on a breezy day - light and refreshing. In reality, its the only thing on his mind every time, he has to endure through another sandstorm on deployment.

"... and at the end of the day he would escort you home and salute you."

"Wait, and a payment? I wonder, how much would it cost to hire such a guy for the day."

"Payment? Don't turn a beautiful act of an altruism into some banal deal! Dunno, maybe a forehead kiss?"

For the next ten minutes they discuss military payment strategies, barely containing laughter. When they say goodbye, a random phrase escapes his lips.

"Love you so much."

She laughs once again. Something deep inside Alex shrinks. He doesn't even hear her saying 'bye' - every other voice around him get silenced by a sinister noise - a symphony of shattered hopes and distant echoes.

He's an egoist to keep her in the dark, not shoving her his true feelings for ages. A coward, who could never open his mouth, even when the moment was right. A fool, who just blurted this confession out of nowhere in the middle of a joke. She didn't understand, he meant it, and Alex can't blame her honestly.

And now he runs to her place like a dog, running after a car carrying away his favorite person. He is desperate to the point, that he can't even start thinking, what would he tell her, once she opens the door.

So when he sees her tired, yet surprised face, his first phrase comes out as awkward as the confession itself.

"You weren't supposed to laugh."

She looks at him startled and confused for a few painfully long moments. As Alex understands, how puzzling that sounded without the whole context from his mind, he runs his hand through his wet hair and shakes his head.

"Alex? You're ok? I-I wasn't expecting you!" She drags him in her house and takes off his wet jacket, so calmly, as if he hasn't just said some complete nonsense.

And at that moment Alex understands: for two long he stayed in his very own trail of thoughts, his own context. She definitely deserved to know more about what was going on in his head. He no longer had the right to keep everything quiet for years and then dump such strange conversations on her.

So he touches her shoulder softly.

"Hey, don't bother hanging up my jacket. I might need it in a moment, if I sre-"

"Alex, you're scaring me! What is happening, why are like this?" A worry in her voice stings him with guilt. But he proceeds, ignoring raindrops still rolling down his face and under the collar.

"I know, we were playing around on the phone today. And I was incredibly happy to cheer you up. But the last thing I told you... You weren't supposed to laugh. Because I meant it. And before you slap my face for being such a mess - I know, it sounded as a part of a joke. But it wasn't. It wasn't for the last I-don't-even-know-how-many years. And if you give me a chance - I am ready to confess it properly. But if there's no need - I'd better just take my jacket and see myself out."

As he fell silent, the world around them seemed still. His eyes, always so attentive and kind, when she was around, looked deeply worried. Alex felt vulnerable, everything in him screamed to keep her by his side at any cost, to turn this all into yet another joke, so that she calms down and stays his friend at least. But Alex didn't let these feeling get better of him. He waited patiently and obediently, not daring even to breathe in.

She turned away, and hung his jacket on a hanger.

"You won't be needing this anytime soon, Alex."

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

This is absolutely @sofasoap 's fault,who talked me into it (sorry because the sauna one is still a WIP, run into problems)

Credit to the amazing, awesome, lovely @nrdmssgs for making me a watermark and guiding stupid useless me into putting it. And to @rileyslibrarian for insisting I use one.

And taging @glitterypirateduck for GAZFEST (come on guys, join in) because I haven't written a single word today while I was hitting my head against the wall with this, so at least have pretty Gaz.

AND NOW, a question for everyone. I made two versions, because I can't decide which I like more, so, have double Gaz, one with hair and one without. Feast your eyes and let me know which you prefer.