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alwaysmicado · 2 months ago

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Hi Love!!, love your works! Do you have your request open? Or if you just open to my insecurity talk🫣😅, well i’m curious about your take on reader’s insecurity on their boobs *shocking* by their real life’s average size theirs are bigger (that’s the first insecurity) and by the online’s appearance (like how social media and corn looked to them) theirs are just not the type that is appealing (in their opinion) well if it’s too much i’m sorry and the world is still going on and the sun is still shinning if they’re just accept it is what it is. I love your works, have i said that? I’ll say it again, im justt ugh im loving it to the point of i need to consume it everyday, and i love you thanks for your masterpieces!!

Anon, I’m kissing your forehead and holding you close 🤍🫂 Thank you so much for your support! I’ve had my fair share of body image issues, so I get it, BUT I want you to know that you’re beautiful, your boobs are amazing just the way they are, and there’s zero reason to feel insecure.

Your body is part of what makes you, you—and that is wonderful.

In His Eyes

1.8k | Dieter Bravo x f!reader | 18+

Warnings: insecure!reader, fluff, sweet!Dieter, sex talk A/N: My mind went straight to Dieter somehow...he just strikes me as a tits guy. Happy reading! 🤍

The glitzy world of Hollywood feels like another universe, a place where everyone is unnaturally beautiful, perfectly polished, and always on display.

Ever since you started dating Dieter, that world has been closer than you ever expected it to be. It’s like being constantly thrown into the deep end of a pool you didn’t even want to swim in, surrounded by model-like women who make you feel smaller by comparison.

It’s not that Dieter makes you feel this way—he’s actually a lot more down-to-earth than you’d expected for someone who is, well, Dieter Bravo. But the groupies, the social media influencers, the actresses at those Hollywood parties—they make you feel it.

Like no matter how much Dieter is into you, there’s always going to be someone thinner, prettier, younger, with smoother skin and...nicer tits.

You’ve always hated yours.

They’re big, heavy, not the gravity-defying, perky kind you see on social media or in porn. There’s some sag, stretch marks that remind you they’re real, but not what’s considered “ideal.” Dieter’s never said anything about it, but lately, it’s all you can think about. Every time you see him surrounded by those women, it gnaws at you, leaving a pit of insecurity in your stomach.

You’re sitting on the couch in his apartment, your phone clutched in your hand as you scroll through Instagram, heart sinking with every photo you see. Dieter’s out at some event—another movie premiere, another round of beautiful people all posing for the camera. You hadn’t felt like going tonight, too overwhelmed by your own self-doubt to put on a dress and act like you belonged in that world.

You try to shake the feeling off, but it lingers, wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. Why does he even like me? you wonder, staring at a picture of some model with a perfect hourglass figure. What’s stopping him from being with someone like her?

The door opens, and Dieter steps in, still looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, his tie slightly loosened, a lazy smile on his face.

“Hey, babe,” he calls out, kicking off his shoes as he makes his way over to you. “You should’ve come. It was a circus, but the drinks were free, so...you know, could’ve been worse.”

You force a smile, closing out of Instagram and setting your phone down. “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling it tonight. I’m glad you had a good time, though.”

Dieter pauses, eyeing you for a moment before plopping down on the couch beside you. “You’ve been ‘not feeling it’ a lot lately. Something wrong?”

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just...stuff. It’s nothing.”

“Come on, don’t give me that,” he says, nudging you with his elbow, that familiar grin on his face. “You think I don’t notice when something’s up? You’ve been avoiding these events like the plague, and now you’re sitting here in the dark. That’s not you.”

You bite your lip, debating whether to brush it off or tell him the truth. Dieter’s easygoing, playful, not the kind of guy who dives into serious conversations. But he’s also observant, and you know he won’t let it go.

“I just...” you begin, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately.”

Dieter’s grin falters, his brow furrowing slightly. “Insecure about what?”

You hesitate, your heart pounding. “About...me. My body. My boobs.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel the words hanging heavily in the air. You brace yourself for whatever reaction might come, but Dieter just blinks at you, as if waiting for you to elaborate.

“You’re constantly around these beautiful women,” you explain, your voice quieter now. “These perfect, gorgeous actresses and models and whatnot...and yeah, sometimes I feel like garbage compared to them. Especially...I mean, my tits aren’t...”

You trail off, not sure how to finish the sentence. You expect Dieter to brush it off, to laugh it away or make a joke. But instead, he shifts, turning to face you fully, his expression surprisingly serious for once.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” he says, holding up a hand. “You’re feeling insecure because of them? Because of all those...what? Barely legal models and influencers who’ve already had ten plastic surgeries by the time they turned eighteen? Babe, they’re literally paid to look like that. That’s their whole deal—selling a fantasy. It’s not real.”

You glance down, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you again. “I know, but it doesn’t make it easier when it’s all I see here. I just...I can’t stop thinking that one day you’ll realize you could be with someone like that instead of...me.”

Dieter stares at you for a second, then lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

Your stomach twists, and you can’t help but wince. “No, I’m not kidding. This isn’t funny to me.”

“Okay, no, I’m sorry.” He reaches out, grabbing your hands, his grip warm and grounding. “I get that you’re serious. But you’ve got this all wrong.”

You frown, unsure of what he means, but Dieter leans in, his dark eyes locking onto yours, his voice lower and softer now. “You think I’m into you despite how you look? You think I’m sitting here going, ‘Well, I guess I’ll settle for her, even though there’s all these other women’? That’s not how this works, babe.”

You blink, taken aback by his sudden intensity. “Yeah, but all your exes had–”

“Let me be crystal clear,” he interrupts, squeezing your hands a little tighter. “I’m with you because I wanna be with you. And that includes your smart mouth, your amazing brain, and your beautiful body. Every part of it.”

Your cheeks heat up, but you still can’t shake the doubt. “But my boobs–”

“Are fucking perfect,” he cuts in, his eyes flicking down to your chest before meeting your gaze again. “Jesus, how many boners do you need to give me just from existing in the same vicinity as me before you start to believe it?”

You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “You’re a dork.”

Dieter lets go of your hands and moves closer, his fingers sliding up to gently cup your face. “I may very well be, but I’m also serious. Look at me.” He waits until your eyes meet his again, his voice steady and insistent. “I’m a shallow, sex-obsessed, movie star, right? If I wasn’t into every inch of you, why the hell would I still be here?”

You crack a smile at his self-deprecation, but the weight of your insecurities still lingers. “I dunno. Maybe you love other parts of me and take the bad with the good?”

Dieter groans softly, leaning against the couch, his hands dropping to your waist. “You don’t really believe that, do you? And, okay, you want me to be brutally honest?”

You nod, unsure but curious.

He smiles, his fingers grazing your waist as he speaks. “Every time you walk into a room, the first thing I notice? Your beautiful face, your radiance, how you light up the whole damn place with your presence. It’s like you pull all the air out of the room, and suddenly, there’s just you.”

“Oh, stop it…”

“I’m serious,” he insists, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips. “And then, a millisecond after that? Your tits.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Of course.”

“They’re amazing. Like, out-of-this-world amazing. They’re real, and soft, and they’re part of you. And trust me when I say, I’m not looking at anyone else. Not like that.”

His words are sinking in, but part of you still struggles to believe it. Unfortunately, the insecurities you’ve harbored for so long won’t just vanish with a few compliments, no matter how sweet they are.

“But I’m…never gonna look like the rest of your…friends or whatever. And it makes me feel like an outsider,” you say a little quieter now. “And I know you love me, and I know I’m too old to feel this way, I know, but I just…do.”

“Why would you want to look like them, though?” he asks, genuine confusion in his voice.

“Um, what kind of question is that?” you ask incredulously. “Because they’re beautiful and successful and–”

“Fake,” Dieter interrupts bluntly, cutting you off without hesitation. “Airbrushed, filtered, and half of them are so miserable they can’t go to sleep without a cocktail of Percocet and vodka knocking them out. Trust me, I know.” He’s serious now, the playful tone gone. “Their lives? Their bodies? None of it is real. It’s smoke and mirrors, and it’s fucked up that it’s sold as something desirable.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he doesn’t let you. His hands move up, resting just below your ribcage, his gaze unwavering as he speaks.

“You’re real, babe. That’s what I want. I’m not interested in some blow-up doll version of a person. And even if I used to be into that, or if that’s what other people want—so what?” He leans in closer, the look in his big, warm puppy eyes making your heart race, clouding your senses. “I’m with you now. Because I want you. Because you’re the one that gets me out of bed in the morning and keeps me up at night.”

“Thank you, Dee,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, your heart swelling. You wrap your arms around him tightly, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. His familiar scent and warmth surround you, comforting you in ways words alone can’t. His hands find their way to your back, gently rubbing, soothing.

For a moment, everything is quiet, just the sound of his steady breathing against your ear. At last, your mind is calm.

“You know I’m constantly daydreaming about your tits, right?” Dieter murmurs suddenly, catching you off guard like only he can. “Playing with them for hours on end, burying my face in them, licking them, sucking on them…pressing them together and fucking them. Or just watching them bounce while you’re on top of me.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at how shameless he is, but your body responds to every word. “Dee…”

“It’s bad, okay? Can’t even really jerk off to porn anymore…I think you broke my brain, babe.”

You chuckle and pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “Be careful, or I might just start believing you.”

“Yeah?” he grins, his hands never leaving your body.

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, feeling the heat rising between you. “But I think I might need a little more..convincing.”

----- Thank you for reading! 🤍 Masterlist | inbox

#inbox #lovely anon <3 #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fluff #fluff #dieter bravo the bubble

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rodolfoparras · 1 year ago

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share the angstttt

-⚰️

Thinking about sexually repressed Price | 18+ MDNI

Pairing: John Price x Top Male reader

Content tags: angsty porn, internalized homophobia, closeted character, angst with a happy ending, masturbation, anal fingering, pining, slow burn

A/N: this isn’t meant to be a proper piece of writing, consider it a stream of consciousness author was clearly working through something here 💀 and bear with the awful grammar spelling mistakes ooc moments etc , also this wasn’t supposed to be this big nor this angsty but I was listening to hozier so things took a turn also to really set the mood I’d suggest listening to from Eden by hozier, work song by hozier, like real people do by hozier and then finally treat yourself with willow by Taylor swift to ease any remaining pain

Sexually repressed Price who’s the only one on the team without a spouse, who likes men but is deeply closeted, who’s starting to think that the liquor and tobacco smoke is starting to taste a bit more like loneliness

Sexually repressed Price who’s got grays in his hair, lines on his face and crow feet around his eyes when he finally meets the type of man he’s always desired

Sexually repressed Price whose hands shake and heart pounds every time your knees knock together or your hands brush, whose face burns and he stutters every time he tries talking to you, who’s so acutely aware of every glance every touch every word he says who gets so in his head about every interaction that he decides to keep himself locked in his office just to avoid any more awkward interactions, who’s never had this issue before because he’s never been attracted to the other men in his circle, attracted to men the words prickle at his throat like whiskey and cigar smoke

Sexually repressed Price who does his best to keep your relationship professional, who treats you no different to how a captain would treat his subordinate.

He’ll send you out to a strenuous training session during heinous weather conditions without thinking twice about it, even though he’s trying his best not to pull your shivering form in his warm embrace.

Price wont think twice about scolding you when you mess up during a mission, will grab onto the scruff of your neck and get all up in your face, even though he’ll also visibly get nervous once he realizes he’s just a hair away from your lips

Price will only speaks to you in a professional tone, words sharp and tone firm but then there are instances where he’ll catch himself slipping up, sharp words rounding out, tone softening up by just looking into your eyes.

Sexually repressed Price who somehow ends up with one of your belongings in his hand whether it be a shirt, a glove, a mask and can’t help but notice how well the tangy smell of your sweat mingles with the sweetness from your cologne, can’t help but think how much it smells of a man and God knows he hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in that smell so he press his nose against the fabric of your shirt, glove or whatever and just loses himself in the scent.

He promises himself he’ll return it but it ends up staying in his rooms for weeks, and he smells it when he needs comfort, when he goes to sleep, when he’s being reminded of the fact that it’s there with him, til it no longer smells like you

When the last trace of your scent lingers on the fabric, he ends up doing something stupid. During one of those nights when he’s drinking liquor like it’s water and inhaling tobacco smoke like it’s his last day on earth, his eyes will land upon your shirt or glove or whatever it is and he’ll make a bee line to the material, before taking it to bed with him

Sexually repressed Price who doesn’t even like to masturbate, who just squeezes his thighs together in hopes of getting some relief or rubs his cock against the sheets until he’s spurting ropes of cum all over it, who doesn’t know how to finger himself properly, experiences it painfully even but can’t help but sneak a hand down his pants while pressing the fabric of your shirt or glove or whatever it is, against his nose.

You do a lot of things without thinking when horny or so Price has heard so he justifies that as being the reason as to why he presses the material against his nose while jerking off. It’s so strange, this new feeling, it feels like you’re there in bed with him, shallow breathes escapes his lips as he imagines you pinning him down to the very same bed, squelching sound getting louder as he imagines you grinding your clothed cock down on him, he’s never had his scenarios be this vivid before he can even see the flush upon his own cheeks, the way he bites down on his bottom lip as you continue to grind down on him and within seconds he’s spurting ropes of cum all over his fist, the fabric still pressed up against him

It’s weird- the sensation that he feels, a humming sensation strumming though his body and mingling with the ever lasting guilt he feels

Sexually repressed Price who ends up with the army catalogue in his hands, who flips to the page where your picture lays, one hand holding a glass of whiskey while the other traces over your features

You look like everything Price had dreamt of in his younger years, smart, handsome and with a promising career in the army maybe if he’d met you back then things would be different maybe he’d be open to dating you, maybe you’d want him too even. Back then he’d been fresh faced and eager to drink up the knowledge of the world not knowing it was eager to swallow him whole. He tears out the page, for reasons he doesn’t even know but it’s the very first picture of a man he doesn’t crumble and hide under his bed but instead neatly folds up and keeps in his wallet.

Sexually repressed Price who ends up breaking one of his rules who treats you more than a captain treats a subordinated when he invites you out to a bar with the rest of 141, it’s a celebratory event for a successful mission, but it feels anything but that, because you get so drunk out of your mind that you start spurting nonsense, stumbling upon the topic of masturbation, and sharing how to get yourself off properly, how to use your hands or mouth when with someone, mind too drunk to register what you’re saying, going in such far detail Price feels his ears burn and hands shake as he runs off into a dirty bathroom stall, splashing water on his face and staring down his reflection,

He thinks about the words you said when you’re cleaning your weapon, skilled fingers easily disarming something that’s presented as untouchable, can’t help but think about them when he sees you pinning soldiers down during sparring sessions, caging men under your weight without actually hurting them, He thinks and thinks and thinks until he breaks his rule again, lays down on his side on his bed, feels the cold sheets sending chilies down his spine only for the sensation to intensify once his chilly fingers touch the cleft of his ass,

Price doesn’t like fingering himself but he still circles his puckered rim with his slicked up fingers, relaxing the muscle just like you’d suggested that one drunken night. Price doesn’t see a point in fingering himself when his cock is hard and weeping between his legs but he still slides the tip of his finger inside the tight ring of muscles, gently grazing the wall of nerves like you’d slurred out that one drunken night. Price knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he continues to work his finger deeper inside of him, eyes fluttering shut and teeth nibbling on his bottom lip, even managing to working himself up to a second one as moans escape him, continues to work himself til there’s no point in stopping despite knowing how wrong it is because he’s teetering closers to the edge before finally cumming all over his hand.

Sexually repressed Price who’s almost broken all of his rules when he starts spending more time with you, beyond ways that are considered normal for a captain and his subordinate. It’s not like you’re forcing your way into his office and it’s not like he’s dragged you to sit next to him yet for whatever reason you’ve decided to do paper work next to him, claiming it’s the most quiet room on base and before he can argue you’ve already put down your pen and papers.

The very first time you do this he’s hyperaware of your presence, wondering if he’s being too obvious with every glance, hands subtly shaking as he adjusts his own papers, wondering if he should say something when the silence goes on for too long, wondering if he’s disturbing you when you’re the one doing work in his office.

Slowly but surely he gets used to your presence, doesn’t glance as much but instead looks at you properly and manages a soft smile even, his hands no longer shake and he can now comfortably offer you his cigar without embarrassing himself, and soon the long pauses of silence turn into comfortable conversations where you do anything but paper work and sure he still blushes when your hands and knees knock together as you’re passing cigars back and forth and he still messes up a sentence or a word when trying to make casual conversation with you but it’s comfortable, that is of course until the universe decides to laugh in his face.

It’s when you’ve decided to take it upon yourself to prep his cigar for him. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything you just thought you should do it for him since he’s kind enough to share them with you but he can’t help but notice the way your fingers gently roll the cigar , the way your lick your lips when trying to cut it precisely the way your half lidded eyes and lazy smile will meet his gaze as you’re playfully blowing the smoke in his face

Once the paper work is finished up and you’re back in your room, he’s still seated in his office chair, his cigar tucked between his fingers and he can’t help but remember the way you’d prepped the cigar, how you’d put the tobacco between your lips, can’t help but remember the playful smile on your face, eyes falling closed as you took a break from the draining paper work and all of sudden he feels himself harden in his pants

His eyes wander to his office door, it’s locked he knows it’s locked, then his fingers wander down to his zipper, undoing his pants and easily wrapping a hand around his dick, and gently pumping it

Thoughts of you whirl around in his head much like the cigar smoke that had whirled in the air and before he knows it he’s cumming all over his fist, the same feeling of shame and guilt bubbling inside of him

Sexually repressed Price who once again finds himself in a dirty bathroom stall, hands shaking and ears burning as he stares at his own reflection.

You’d casually mentioned you were seeing, someone no, casually mentioned that you were seeing a man, there was no shame on your face no hesitation in your tone when you said the words, said it like you said how to please yourself the night you were drunk, but this time around you were stone cold sober, price pukes into the toilet bowl like he’d been the one drinking

Sexually repressed Price who can’t help but think of your attraction towards men, who stares at himself naked in the mirror, keeps wondering if you’d ever want someone like him, who becomes so hyper aware of your existence, who scoops and digs for any sign that you’re attracted to him only to bury it as far as he can into the ground when he finds hints of it

Sexually repressed who has his room next to yours, who can hear whomever you brought home for the night, who can hear its a man, who can’t help but sneak his hand down his pants and imagine it was him pinned on your weight, with you showing him how to take your mouth, how to take your fingers, how to take your cock, what it’s like to have a man in bed

His mind fills with thoughts of you pinning down the man as if he were another soldiers, but those arm would continue to trace down his shoulders chest and abdomen. His mind fills with thoughts of your fingers, who so easily takes apart deadly weapons, taking apart the man in the very same way

Sexually repressed Price who finds himself back at the very same bar, this time with just you alone, drunk out of your minds and talking about something other than cigar liquor or paper work, who gets so drunk you have to sling an arm over his shoulder and carry him to his room and somewhere on the walk back, between the steps the drunken talks the heavy breathes from trying to carry a full grown man he slips up, eyes flickering between your lips and eyes and before you know it the two of you kiss

He feels scared once he realizes what he has done eyes wide and mouth agape, desperately trying to explain himself but you’re ever so calm collected a gentle smile on your face , briefly pecking his lips before pulling away

He’s still drunk as he were moments ago but sober enough to pull you in for another kiss and it’s clumsy teeth clashing, smacking sounds echoing loudly smiling so much you’re practically barely kissing but he loves it so much at one point you fall down onto pavement and stay seated there, maybe it’s the liquor maybe it’s the adrenaline but for the first time he doesn’t feel any of the guilt brewing inside of him as he interlocks your hands and rests his head on your shoulder

The next morning there’s just a tad bit of guilt at the back of his throat but it may very well be the liquor and tobacco smoke, he wakes up next to a glass of water and pain killers for the headache that’s already making itself known

When he arrives to the first meeting that morning he thinks you’ll confront him about that night, pulse roaring in his ears and hand shaking as he takes a seat at the table but nothing of that sort happens, you carry a conversation with soap, you listen through the debriefing and you part ways after the meeting

Later that night he seeks you out on his own, voice soft, gaze avoidant as he leads you to his office under the disguise of doing paper work and of course you take him up on that offer

You barely do paper work instead you share a cigar til you’ve smoked for so long you’ve lost interest in the tobacco leaf and there’s only a silence lingering in the air for a good couple of minutes. Finally he says something apologies tumbling past his lips hands gesturing for what he doesn’t dare say

It’s okay, you explain to him, there’s no need to worry about it, but he won’t stop apologizing til you ask him if you can kiss him again and he halts his movements and falls silent, you can almost hear a pin drop before he nods his head and you lean in and cup his face and gently slot your lips together

You kiss and you kiss and you kiss til you’re caging his body against the sofa like he’s dreamt of so many times, hands racking alongside of his ribs like dissembling one of your weapons and eagerly kissing his lips and he looks so blissful so at ease soft gasps escaping his lips with every kiss as he claws at the sofa under him finally his eyes flutter open hands cupping your cheek and the biggest smile overtakes his face as you kiss again and again and again

And that’s how this thing starts This relationship that really isn’t a relationship where you and him do everything two lovers would do but he’s not yours and you’re not his but you don’t seem to mind despite the thoughts that plague him at night

You’re always so patient so understanding don’t mind sharing kisses and caresses in hiding but it eats at him and eats at him but doesn’t make him any more braver

You deserve something more and when he finally thinks he’s ready to give you that the opportunity is taken away, and he’s sent out on a mission in which he almost doesn’t return

But you don’t give up hope, you sit outside even and wait for him to come home you don’t know how much time has passed but you’ve slept and showered and eaten a handful of times until you finally see a figure making its way towards you

It’s price

It’s your John

Funny how the sky cries just as tears fall down your cheek and within seconds you’re holding him in your embrace and you’re both crying before he finally cups your cheeks and you kiss, under the night sky, in front of the base, in front of the whole world to see

#can we just take a moment that I wrote basically a whole story #through thought bubbles #idk I was going through it today #John price #John price x reader #John price x male reader #top male reader #bottom male character #sub male character #dom male reader #call of duty #⚰️ anon

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