Captain John Price - Tumblr Posts

COD OC: Austin Havers callsign Rodeo

Hello my faggots in Christ. Wonderful to see you all today.

Just a friendly reminder than I need John Price up my ass.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

He's the type that would go around using "missus" for everything

painting takes a lot of brainpower so im doing shit doodles for now

PRICE🏷️💸💰

141 MATCHING PFPS !!!

(credits if you use them as one will be REALLY appreciated <333)

"They're just video game characters, they're not real"

NO!

I've depended on these fuckers for YEARS! if something happens to any of them AGAIN I WILL be SAD!

I've seen people be making blender whatever edits of them and saying "potential/real mw3 spoilers" and I know they gotta be fake because the game hasn't even been released yet but I am STRESSING

best of luck to you folks (please I'm begging don't kill my boys)

do not spoil in the comments pls

me devouring any content when it is a shy reader riding simon or price because i feel so seen

Salamander as Captain Price

I love the hat on her ^^

Here is the result of today’s stream! It is priceghost time again.

Captain John Price, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Yooooo I'm scrolling through ao3 and I'm seeing a lack in crossovers :(

I just got a nag idea in my head where it's a crossover with COD and the teams meet eachother. Misunderstandings of course, later on when everyone is more chiller N makes captain price a "I'm sorry for trying to murder you" card like how he made one for Ron. SO bloody cute. (Also want V to scare the absolute shit out of some humans) ohhhh the angst and info reveal that could happen.

I would personally love for the ship to be soapghost, and biscutbytes. But some people don't like the second ship and I understand it's not for everyone.

I see there is one and it's great but not the right one to scratch the brain itch :(

Anyways enough rambling lol.

GHOST REACTION LMFAOOOO🤣🤣🤣

So, uh, I was watching Bad Boys 2 with my dad and when the shootout scene happened and Marcus accidentally got shot in the ass I couldn’t help but wonder after I was done LMFAOing; how the COD boys (or the guys from 141 if you have a character limit) would react to and deal with having been shot in the ass? Especially if their S/O or best friend was there?

Ouchie ouchie. Here ya go anon! Sorry it took so long!

Getting shot in the ass.

Fucking humiliated.

First off, it hurt and oh boy he would not talk to anyone. If you're not in the immediate vicinity of medical attention he is going to have to be taken care of by one of you.

He'd probably trust either you or Price. He loves Johnny but not enough to touch his whole ass.

If you're his spouse you will 100% try to make jokes to calm him down, and it doesn't end up making it any better. Simon laying on his stomach writhing in pain while you've got him pantsed.

He's never speaking to any of you again. He'd rather be buried alive than have you bandaging his whole asscheek so he doesn't bleed everywhere.

"Are-fuck! Are you done yet!?" He growled, turning into a whine near the end because he's in pain. Come on man...

"Almost Simon, just hang in with me ok?"

He whines, and you continue to as gently as you can patch the wound. And like a meanie you're trying not to laugh the whole time.

When you're done you'll pat his butt gently and help him up. "Fuck you, and fuck that last 20 minutes of my life." He winces, attempting to stand.

"It's an occupational hazard y'know-"

"In my ass. MY BLOODY ARSE!"

"Well it's not bloody anymore...??"

Yeah he's never speaking to you. Or the others. He'll go back to that coffin where he was safe and his beautiful ass wasn't being threatened 24/7.

When you get back if you tell anyone he's suffocating you in your sleep. Not like the medical team will let him go. Surgery to get the bullet out of his arse and then was hurting for weeks.

Glaring constantly because now he has one of those butt pillows that you'd sit on after a BBL. And the recruits are bugging him because, "Got a lift Lt??" "Thought it was already big enough."

His arse is a point of contention for him and now he's being pointed out for the masses.

"You... You want me to help??"

"Nope." He dragged his leg, limping his way as blood spilled.

"You've uh, got a hole in your-"

"I'm very well aware!" He grimaced, trying to ease down on his side. "Other room." He demands.

"I can help-"

"OTHER ROOM."

"Yes sir."

You step away and let Price undo his belt and survey the damage himself. The last time he was bleeding from his arse his military dad was spanking him upside down and sideways.

By the time he realizes he's going to need a little help he's already regretting his life. He's nearly had his balls shot off before, this shouldn't be news to him, but also, why....

Begrudgingly he calls you back in after messing with it enough it hurts twice as much as before.

So you grab some bandages and get to work.

"Don't-"

"I'm very well aware of where my hands are going captain, you're fine."

"Gross."

"You're bleeding."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." He rubbed his forehead, sighing.

You feel less inclined to snicker at Price because the poor man is just trying to make a living fighting crime. He doesn't deserve this. His beautiful soft ass doesn't deserve this.

When you get back he is just wanting the bullet out by that point so he doesn't fight medical. They get the bullet out and he is taking painkillers like they're going out of style. (No, not in an unhealthy way)

Will probably stay between his room and his office. He wants to do work very badly and hasn't enjoyed sitting around doing nothing for long periods of time.

Can't wear his favorite pants now because they're tighter and the seam cuts right into the stitches. Sweatpants and butt pillow it is until he's out of this hell.

Most recruits know not to poke the bear, unlike you. Or Simon.

"Whew, that was close." You panted and looked at Johnny with relief. "No kidding." But as the adrenaline wore off, Johnny felt lightheaded, and fell to his side.

"Ow-" He winced, his leg feeling numb. You quickly rushed to him and looked him over. He wasn't shot anywhere... Oh. Oh, no never mind, yes he was.

"Johnny..."

"Yeah..?"

"You're shot."

Johnny followed your gaze and saw.

Surprisingly calm. Like, out of everyone he doesn't panic as much. Pulls up his shirt into his mouth and tells you to get it out.

You're hesitant because it's trying to pull a bullet out of someone's ass. And pulling a bullet out is never... Fun. But he trusts you, even if his cheeks are glaringly red from utter embarrassment.

But he doesn't want anyone else to do it for some reason, so you do your best.

Long story short, it did not go well. You ended up messing with the wound that his right ass cheek was so swollen. He looked like an idiot. Laying on his stomach in pain while waiting for Evac.

"I'm sorry..." You rubbed his shoulder.

You'd pulled his pants down further, while still being respectful. But man if he didn't look stupid, and it looked like it hurt. One cheek much bigger than the other, red and swollen.

Johnny promised to never get shot in the ass again. After he was put on bed rest because he had an infection. So uh... That was a fun adventure.

"Why the hell did you try to dig the bullet out of my ass??" He looked over at you when you visited him.

"You told me to do that! I told you it was a bad idea."

"Oh yeah..." He sniffled and crossed his arms, pouting his lip.

"Johnny.. come on, it'll get better."

"Well it can't get worse. Can it?"

"Ow!! Bloody- shit!" He slid down a wall and looked down at his side, expecting the stinging pain he felt to have hit his leg, he was dismayed to find the bullet had got him in the ass.

"Oh fucking of course!" He groaned and tried his best to hold something over the wound while still getting bullets pelted at him.

"How're we looking, sergeant??"

Kyle looked back briefly and then adjusted his gun. "Fine! But I've got a bloody hole in my arse!"

"Say again?"

Kyle groaned. Falling out of helicopters, getting shot in the ass, what was next huh?

"I've. Got. A. Bullet. In my ass!!"

Mortified when the others get to him and see he was not lying. Kyle must have just about the worst luck because what the hell is this?? They got him to medical and they did indeed confirm he had a bullet where the sun don't shine.

His perfect, pretty, unscarred butt was now about to be dug into to get a bullet out. How humiliating. He had bad stuff happen to him, but this he refused to talk about.

"How're... How're you feeling?" You asked after he came out of surgery. Still high on drugs, Kyle glared at you. "Don't even..."

"Don't what?" You snickered slightly.

"Oh fuck off..."

You smiled a little and sat down. "Hey, you'll recover. It sucks, but you've gotten through worse."

"Bullet in the ass."

"Had a bullet in the ass."

"It was still there at one point. That was my reality, y/n!"

You lovingly shushed him with a glass of water.

Kyle did not say a word about it. Even when he needed a pillow to help him sit after the surgery, he never pointed it out. And the others saw the look, if they said anything Kyle would drag them behind a shed and suffocate them with said pillow.

And therefore, for everyone's collective safety, it was never brought up.

The artwork that made me drop everything and read Ursa Major

john price

bathing in the forest cause @the-californicationist made him do it (go read ursa major, that’s an order)

SALIVATING

I will delete this😔

more art in my telegram – qpiiee

THAT'S AMAZING!!! CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HOW THE STORY DEVELOPS🤩😍😍😍

The mountain is you

Ch. 3: I hear your voice in my head

Dom Price x Fem Reader

MDNI/NSFW/18+

CW: Dom/Sub, Bondage, Sex Work, Pain Play, Spanking, Temperature Play (shower), Spit, Voice Kink, Size Kink.

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2)

AO3

You sat back on your heels with your hands folded in your lap as he walked in.  His bootsteps seemed to vibrate across the wooden floor beneath your pillow.  A steady gait, with all of the suspense of a drum roll.

As you faced the high-backed chair, you could only make out the top of him until he made his way closer into view.  He was tall enough when you were standing up.  But on the ground at his feet, he eclipsed everything else around him.  There were no windows, no ceiling.  Just his thighs giving way to his waist, his arms and shoulders. 

Your head tipped back as far as it could just to take him all in, and even then, you came up short of meeting his eyes.

“Already off to a good start, I see.  You look lovely, sweetheart.”  He appraised you in a way that was both agonizingly slow and methodically brief, as he took off his jacket and slowly rolled up his sleeves

“Thank you, sir,” you answered, to the spot on his chest where his flannel shirt opened in a V.  It earned you a quick bob of his head in approval. 

He was starting you off easy.  That much was clear.  Like a teacher on the first day of school.  Throwing you softball questions to gauge how much of the summer reading you’d done over break.  How you responded determined how far he’d push you, and which side of him you’d get.

Could he see the goosebumps spreading across your skin at the mere sound of his voice?      

“Next time, I want you to look at me when you say it.”  He bent down only slightly, aiding your efforts just enough that you could obey. 

His clear eyes glinted patiently between his dark lashes.  Dark brows, dark beard.  They were like signal fires along an unknown path.  No choice but to give yourself up and follow.

“Yes, sir.”  A slight smile pulled at the corner of your lips as the first flutter of heat worked its way from your cheeks down to the echoing emptiness in the cradle of your hips.

“Good.  I like to begin with an inspection.  To assess your readiness, and to make sure your healed from the previous session.”

“I’m ready,” you quickly admitted when his bare hand grazed against the side of your cheek.  You turned into it, starved for even the slightest touch of his roughened palm.

“And I like to take my time exploring what’s mine,” he rumbled, firmly snagging a hold of your chin.  A gesture that simultaneously chastised you for speaking out of turn, and possessively staked his claim. 

You let out a surprised breath, and he took the opening as an invitation to slip his fingers inside your parted mouth.  Two at first, and you instinctively flattened your tongue and closed around their impressive girth. 

“That’s it.”  A short hum of approval followed, as your eyes slipped closed while you sucked them deeper into your throat.  “Don’t overexert yourself just yet.  There’s plenty of time to show me how much you can take.”

He let you savor him a bit before he pulled out with a wet pop of skin and spit, and you nearly fell forward at the loss.  You licked at the salty trail his skin left behind on your lips.  

“Turn around and bend over the stool.”  He pushed a plushily upholstered ottoman closer behind you.  It was the perfect height to kneel and bend against as your arms fell over the other side. 

“Open your legs wider, don’t be shy.”  He folded up the hem of your skirt and brazenly pawed at the meat of your ass in wide circles.  You felt the stretch and pull at your exposed holes, and you wondered if the pads of his fingers were abrasive enough to leave scratches behind. 

In the way his voice had already left etchings on your mind.

“Christ, you’re soaked.  Have you been touching yourself?”  It was barely even a question, the inflection missing from his even tone.

“Yes.”  He pulled his hands away at your answer, leaving a chill in its absence, intentionally.  “Sir,” you quickly corrected.

“Good girl.”  A harsh clap to your backside was your reward.  It smarted with a sharpness that caught you off guard.  He wasn’t taking it easy anymore.  “What do think about when you play with my sweet little cunt?”  His hand returned between your legs, and with it, a probing forefinger glided along the sensitive split of your folds.

You jumped at the sensation, pulling away from the intimacy of it.  How long had it been since you were touched like this?  Ghost had only ever let you use toys on yourself.  Those were the rules, for your safety and his.  Where were the rules now?

This is what you wanted...

“This, sir,” you answered with more certainty than you felt.  Another slap, and your muscles melted into the ottoman and your legs parted wider to brace for the next impact. 

But it didn’t come.  Instead, he pulled back and cleaned off his slick smeared fingers along the side of your thigh.

“This, sweetheart, is just a warm-up,” his low, sardonic voice crooned, as his hands snagged in your hair and arched you back far enough to see him towering behind you.  The back of your head hit the front of his thighs.  “I’ll try to take it slow this time, but no promises.”

Oh fuck, he was good, you shuddered at the thought.  The unknown.  The waiting.  The surprise.  He ticked the boxes of your kink like he wrote the book himself.  Like he’d been paying attention.  You almost broke scene in your gratitude, but you kept your eyes trained up at him, wondering if he could see it written all over your face.

He must’ve, because for a moment, he broke too.  A subtle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, a brief softness that you would’ve missed if you blinked.  Just before he bent down lower, and spit on your face.

He released your hair as you sputtered in shock when it hit your closed lips with a warm splat.  Your tongue darted out to taste the small piece of himself he offered to you.  Not a kiss so much as a wad of spit on the palm to seal the deal.  A promise to take care of you.

As you moved to catch the drop that rolled down your chin, he took hold of your wrists and held them above your head.  With a quickness that left your mind spinning, he knotted a loop of smooth rope around each one, binding them together like a sturdy set of cuffs.  He slung another loop over the exposed wooden beam along the ceiling.

Handy, you thought as he tied it off with a slipknot that left you hanging up on your tip toes.  Once again, the ottoman slid underneath you, but this time you kneeled on it.  He eyed you up and down, making sure you were secure before letting go of the steadying arm at your waist.

You weren’t weightless.  You knew this about yourself.  No one picked you up and carried you around because you were so tiny and pocket-sized.  You were just a woman, and hadn’t met someone big enough to throw you around like you were made of air.

You had substance.  You were made of things.  Matter and atoms, and particles, or whatever.  Flesh and bones.

So, when you hung there suspended, it felt like a dream, and all you could do was focus on the parts of you that felt contact.  Your wrists.  Your knees.  The ropes that cut into your skin, the plushness that kept you from hitting the floor.  You established your center of gravity and braced for the worst with an anticipatory thrumming low in your belly.  Deep within the cradle of your hips.

Nothing would pitch you over.  You could take anything. 

True to his word of being honest about what he was going to do, he flashed the paddle in front of you.  As wide as his hand, it was made of wood and wrapped in leather.  It made Ghost’s crop look like a feather duster.

You let out a clarifying breath through your teeth, licking at your spit-soaked lips to find that tether.  To his promise that burned sweet like spearmint and menthol tobacco.

“Anything you want say before we start?”  His rough-edged voice posed both challenge and threat.

It was the first stop on the train, you reminded yourself.  And he was making sure you knew you could get off anytime.

“No, sir—”

The words barely left your lips before he delt the first blow.  The slap of leather to skin echoed through the house, bounced off the windows and the walls. 

You didn’t scream, not yet, but the sting welled in your eyes to match the blooming fire on your ass.  When the second one swiftly followed, and even harder than the first, you nearly swallowed your tongue to stifle a gasp, wondering if he wanted to hear you. 

But you weren’t an actress.  This wasn’t for show.  If he wanted to hear you scream, to see you cry, he had to earn it.  Right there alongside you.

The third and fourth came slower and with slightly less force, but the fifth nearly rattled your teeth. 

“Oh, fuck!”  You finally exclaimed, no longer able to blink back the tears.  

“You liked that one, did you?”  He had the nerve to laugh behind you.  Was he emboldened by your feedback?  Was he enjoying this as much as you?

It wasn’t long before you lost track of how many whacks you’d taken.  He didn’t bother counting them aloud like some clock ticking away the time.  There wasn’t a limit.  The only one who could stop it was you.

“Had enough, yet?”  He checked in, winded from his own exertion. 

“No, sir.”  The words came slower, as if you had to pluck them out of a messily discarded pile in some dark corner, the more your strength drained away.  You were so close.  Right there on the brink.  You could see it like a trail disappearing over the horizon.

A steadying hand found your shoulder, squeezed warm and firm, as he moved closer behind you.  Enough to whisper in your ear.

“I’m not going to stop until you break.”

With the last command, and a final searing crack, you felt the fresh gush of squirt as you finally let go.  The scream you’d been waiting for.  That maybe he had been, too.

The sweet release that stole your breath and your mind, and dragged you all the way under.  And he hadn’t even touched you.  There was no vibrator strapped to your thigh.  Just a gentle hand on your shoulder.  The polarity to the abuse on your ass.  Nerves flayed and blown wide, you still needed the one thing that would pull you back together.

“Touch me, please,” you whimpered, with a voice hoarse from crying.  “I need to come.”  Deep in the subspace, you sagged limply against your bonds. 

“I can’t deny you anything, sweetheart.  Not when you ask so nicely.”

He pulled the quick release on the rope and caught you against his chest.  Sitting back on his chair, he held you facing forward onto his lap.  You were boneless, propped up only where he held you tightly in his grip.  Careful not to hold your neck, he instead wrapped his forearm under your breasts, cupping one in his palm through the thin silk fabric of your slip and pinning your bound wrists to your chest.

His other hand started at your mound of curls and trailed lower, parting the folds to slowly reach the tender bud at its apex.  He brushed it once, twice, before reaching lower.  Swirling circles around your opening, tracing along the trembling rim before gliding back up again. 

You squirmed weakly against his hips, desperate to touch him back.  To guide his hand where you wanted him to go, but you were helpless to do anything but weather his patience.  To be led at the pace he set.

His beard grazed the top of your shoulder and along the side of your neck.  In your addled brain, you imagined that he kissed you there, that his lips and tongue and teeth met skin.  That the ragged breaths of his need matched your own.

As his thumb worked the pearl of your clit in faster, deliberate circles, those thick fingers you suckled earlier slid deep into your walls.  The achingly tight stretch, combined with the precious friction brought you to a roaring climax of moaned oaths and sounds you’d never heard before.

“You did so good.”  You felt his hot breath against your shoulder as you shattered around him, along with a quick, supportive peck of his soft lips.  Too soft and too brief to register over the riot in your blood.  “I’m feeling generous.  Let’s try something else.”

A pouty whine of doubt was all you could offer, still in the incomparable thrall of an orgasm in subspace.  You couldn’t say no.  So deep under his sway, you’d give him anything.  Let him do anything.  There was no room for resistance in that vast, cloudy place. 

But you didn’t know what else was left.  What laid ahead was too far beyond your reach.

No thoughts, only sensations.  You couldn’t even focus enough to see beyond the fog.  All that held you up was the sound of his voice.  The strength of his arms as he lifted and turned your dead weight, hooking your wrists around his neck.  His hand never leaving your throbbing cunt.

“None of that.  You’ll like it, I promise.  But you’ll have to trust me.”  He curled his fingers forward, hooking deeper in a way that had you muffling your wild shrieks into his chest.  “You do, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, until he pulled his fingers away.  You clenched down harder and sank against them, but he slipped them free despite the protest.

“Words, remember?  Need to know you’re still with me.”  He swatted your cheek with the same sticky, wet palm.  Not enough to hurt, but it pulled you back out just enough to speak.

“Yes,” you answered, biting your lip to see if it was still there.  That you weren’t just a cloud of disembodied mist.  “I trust you,” as another slap opened your eyes to meet his. 

He really expected you to keep up the formalities after what just happened?  The world was a different place.  Surely the continents had shifted, and the oceans had dried up.

But there he was, you noted as he came into focus.  You hadn’t just imagined him.  Those signal fires lit up to guide you once more through the dark.  There was a freckle on his nose.  A dimple just above his beard.  He seemed to pause as well, and you realized how firmly he was pinched with restraint.  How tightly he held his own need for release. 

If it was a word he wanted, you’d give it to him.

“Sir,” you finally finished, with a small smile pulling at your tingling cheek.

“There’s a girl,” he said with a low chuckle, as he carried you to a different room.

One that smelled like sandalwood and citrus, with walls of such a bright white that you buried your face further into his shoulder to shield your eyes from it.  The fuzzy, light flannel was a soothing contrast to the sting at your backside.  It still pulsed and burned with each course of blood through the muscle and fat.

“You made quite a mess of yourself, I’m afraid.  Need to clean you up.”  The sound of creaking metal and the spray of water were harsh to your ears.

A strangled sound escaped your lips, half a cry, half a whimper.  This was going to hurt.  Your overexerted pussy perked up at the prospect of it.  It was a devious little thing, swollen and puffy with eagerness that your body could survive another round of punishment.

No, it wasn’t punishment, you corrected yourself.  It was what you needed.

He set you down slowly onto the closed toilet seat, untied your hands and pulled the silk shift up over your head like a doll being undressed and put to bed.  The sleek porcelain was so cool against your bare skin that you shivered at the loss of its paltry heat. 

“I’m right here.”

Keeping his eyes on you and his hands not far away, lest you fall over, he arranged a chair made of PVC pipe into the open shower area and stripped from his own clothes with a quickness that spoke to his own enthusiasm.  It was either that, or a natural efficiency with which he did all things. 

Pants, shirt, boots.  Until all that was left was the dark hair that covered him in varying degrees of masculine thickness from head to toe, and his briefs.  An erection tented the fabric to such a painful degree that you reached out for it, only to be distracted away.

“This one’s all about you.  Don’t tempt me to change my mind,” he slanted you a look that guaranteed you’d regret it as he mouthed at the back of your hand absently.

Two kisses?  You could get greedy for them if you weren’t careful.

But before you could muster any disappointment, he had you by the arms again and positioned you over the makeshift chair.  You sat astride it, with your ass facing just out of the stream of water and an opening below for easy access between your legs.  Your tits draped over the top.

He kneeled in front you, all the better to watch you to submit to him, when your rational brain was clamoring to find your safe word.  Abraded skin meeting hot water was a next level consequence that you weren’t prepared to face with him.

You usually did that part alone with a bottle of wine, your comfort candle, and your favorite movie waiting for you on the softness of your sofa.

But the endorphins that kept you down in the subspace also kept you pliant, giddy with desire.  Fearless.  Reckless, you would’ve argued, if you’d been in some other state of mind. 

Not when you still felt the aftershocks of bliss, and the rawness of your paddling.  Instead, you did your best not to flinch as he directed the steaming water along your skin.  Where you expected a searing torture, there was instead a satisfying burn.  Just shy of scalding.  Just shy of too much.  It heated you up like a cauterizing iron to a wound.  A healing type of hurt. 

Unlike a misplaced hand shying away from a hot stove, you leaned into it.  Arched against it like a bear to tree bark.  That itch you’d never been able to reach.  Dark and subterranean, it skittered around underneath, unable to be caught by the light.

And just when you thought you’d had enough—when the nerves began to die out under the overwhelming blaze—he turned it up hotter still.  A new wave of pleasure and pain, as the backs of his knuckles caressed the needy patch of your sex. 

Violence on one side, and serenity on the other.  Like two sides of a coin flipping end over end into an infinite universe.  It built a force within you that finally collapsed on itself, consuming you whole.  Slower, and somehow more shocking in its intensity than the first.

“Is this how stars are made?”  The last dizzying thought before you slipped beyond reach.

You awoke as if from a dream some time later, with your head in his lap and wrapped in a velvety soft gray robe.  Big enough to fit you like a blanket, it must’ve been his.  The clarity hit you fast, and you sat up with a start.  The waiting surge of adrenaline that always followed a scene found you well-rested. 

“I am so sorry.”

“Easy now.  Here, drink this.”  He adjusted himself to move with you, not letting you go as you tried to bolt, and tipped a bottle full of water towards your lips.

It even had a straw.  How thoughtful. 

“Thank you,” you added, not able to meet his assessing gaze.  Had you even said that yet?  Where were your manners?

“You’re welcome,” he answered breezily.  As if not really knowing what to say himself.

Probably because you squirted all over his expensive looking ottoman and said weird things about turning into a constellation when you came your brains out.

“I don’t want to keep you any longer.  I didn’t mean to take up your whole day.”  You looked at the clock and couldn’t believe it was already evening.

How long had he sat there just holding you?  Your empty stomach reminded you of the food you’d meant to stop for on the way home.

“Are you hungry?  I can order dinner if you want to stay a bit longer.”  He sounded more confident after you’d drained the water and handed it back to him.

You never wanted to leave the cocoon he’d wrapped you in, but it was best to take it slow as you stood to find your discarded clothes tucked behind the sofa. 

“I actually made plans, but next time, yeah?”  You assured him, when he looked at you so vulnerably that you reached for him.  It was only a brief touch to his forearm, but he seemed surprised by it.  “Will you send me your availability?”

A shitty way to say, “You just changed my life,” but you hoped there would be a next time.  That there was still more you could do for each other. You still had to hold up your end of the bargain.

“My calendar’s wide open, sweetheart.”

FROTHING 😫😫😫😫

A friend asked why I don't write the stuff I send her. So yaknow... here's me bring horny for price after found out barry sloane had an eyebrow piercing when he was younger.

If you like this definitely go find @dumbbitchgalore she has a lot of stuff for price, especially old man price, it's all very horny. And all 10/10. She is my muse for most the filthiest thought about that old man

Picture this

Older price, not quite old enough to retire, but getting a little grey in the muzzle. He comes home, expecting his lovely wife to be cooking a nice dinner as always.

What he doesn't expect is you to be sitting at the dining table. A little black, velvet, drawstring pouch to sitting in front of you. A little old, very dusty, but it's contents placed delicately on the table, five small pieces of stainless steel. Three standard straight barbells, a curved one, and a slightly thicker ring with cones instead of balls on the end.

You ask him what it is. He asked where you found it.

"I was just cleaning up. Answer my question" You insist.

"I was quite rebellious in my youth, I'll leave it there." he said, tone infuriatingly even, and his accent thick in a way that always made you want to fold. But you hold out just a little longer.

"Where?"

He rolled his eyes but indulged you, calloused finger sliding the piercings away from the group one by one.

"Eyebrow," he said, sliding the curved metal to him, "tongue, it's closed a very long time ago," a straight barbell just under the first, "nipples" he said, not elaborating, watching your face, wanting to see your reaction while he slid the last two further under the first ones, almost lining them up like he was picturing a diagram of his body on the table and he was lining each one up in it's proper place.

You were gawking. Obviously. The man you had known for years now, cooked for for longer then you had been married, fucked dumb more times then you could ever count.

"*You* had nipple piercing?!" You questioned, almost forgetting the final, thicker ring on the table.

"Aye. Had to take em out when I was a Lieutenant. Stricter rules then just a Sargent, " he explained. Reaching forward. Tapping the final ring.

"If ya guess this one I'll get it redone. Almost time to retire now anyway, no one will care whats in my skin if it aint a bullet anyway" he said, leaning back. Just watching as the gears in your pretty little head turned. Grinning as you carefully slid the ring into place, putting pace between the pair of straight barbells, as you went lower, sitting where you thought his navel would be in this imaginary diagram.

"Little lower lovie," he said, guiding your hand as the cogs finally clicked into place. "There ya go," he purred at you as you just stared at him.

This is amazing!!

Screenshot

Got nostalgic, watched Inuyasha and decided to make Aly and Price on Inuyasha’s anime art style 🥰. It was my style inspo since I was a kid so I had a really good time drawing it!

I’m going to do more MW canon and ocs on this style as anime screenshots hehehe 👁️👄👁️.

Maybe Adler and Aleks too.

Anyways I hope you all have a really nice week!✨

nsft ✰ mdni!

older bf! john price who catches his naive little girlfriend innocently and shamelessly talking to his soldiers on the day that he takes you to the base, privates that are in the same age group as you, clearly more appropriate for a sweet lady like you instead of the nasty old man you chose to be with instead

older bf! john price who’s eyes widen and patience finally snaps when he watches you sweetly feel one of his recruit’s biceps, after the young boy had instructed you to, finally having enough of the display as your man marches over to you and silently drags you away from the group by your arm, his firm, large hand fully wrapping around the naturally tiny limb of yours by comparison as he pulls you to his office

older bf! john price who isn’t having it at all, who’s already decided on your punishment(s) as soon as the door slams shut in the private room, immediately delivering a firm slap over your cheek when you confusedly try to reason with him by calling out his name— instead only reminding you that it’s “sir” or “captain” with him and nothing else when you’ve fucked up, during times like these

-

older bf! john price who has you bent over his work desk in the middle of the room with your trousers and panties bunched around your ankles, face down, pressed into the hard wooden surface covered with various paperwork and files scattered around as you begin to sob, while he lectures you with a firm hand pushed against your spine, on how a stupid little girl like you needs to know better next time, to not let his men take advantage of you like that, to not behave like a whore for hire in front of them and especially not in front of him (you genuinely did not know any better! •ᴖ•)

older bf! john price who decides to spank your bare, plush little ass still bent over his desk, maybe 20 or 30 times (depending on how much steam he still needs to blow after his lecture), using his belt, ordering you to cry out a meek little “thank you sir” even through the mess of tears and snot on your face after each hit, to ease you into your discipline for the evening, while he decides what else to do with you afterwards

older bf! john price who notices how much you’re sobbing and practically screaming by the time he reaches the final five blows, your plump behind shaking uncontrollably and so, sinfully reddened with little strips of purple bruises and welts already starting to form :( so once he’s done he coos and picks up your limp, trembling body effortlessly and pulls you into his lap while he sits down by his work desk, shushing you and even occasionally chuckling at your cries while he runs a big, warm hand down your back, your face buried into his neck as you continue to weep and even begin to weakly apologise

older bf! john price who stays like that, rocking you back and forth on his lap for a few minutes and letting his big, warm hands roam over your back and bare behind, trying to calm down the burn of his thick, leather belt and it’s blows as he shushes you and reassures you that it’s almost over. you’re doing so well <3

older bf! john price who was planning on fucking you senselessly after your spanking with your face pressed down into his desk, but decides to take it easy on you and have a little bit of mercy after seeing how sad and weepy you’re being, as well as how much you’ve even genuinely apologised for it all :( it’s not your fault that a naive, pretty thing like you was being approached and taken advantage of by his men! any soldier would have done the same to a girl who they had no clue already belonged to their captain

older bf! john price who instead gently lifts you off of his lap after a while, wiping your tears away with his calloused thumbs before softly pushing you down to your knees, making you kneel on the very same ass he’d just bruised and spanked senselessly as he spreads his legs a little further on his chair and begins to unzip his trousers — he wanted to take it easy on you, he truly did, but he’d also grown painfully hard after giving you that little spanking with his belt and now he still needed you to help relieve him, surely you’d understand!

CANT WAIT FOR MORE! I also cant wait for them to finally get some well deserved revenge on them. 😼

Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you

(last part before the summary gets different guys i promise- lmao)

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Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader)

a/n: .. yumm price... I LOVE SIMON THO GUYS I SWEAR enjoy <3

Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read (Like always ngl). - idk see yourself. burns

genre: ANGST

+ 2,5k words (extra long for you babes)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 (coming soon i guess!)

"No-" whispering under your unsteady breath. Head shaking as if your not really here- hysterical tears still rolling over the apple of your cheeks, down to your jaw.

Trailing sideways to your chin and mixing with the blood, salty liquid turning pink before dropping down onto your thighs.

piano music invading your brain- making everything hurt with a bittersweet melodie

your leg trembled- lip swollen as you constantly bit down on it to not cry like a pathetic baby.

Gaze fixated onto your fingers- skin feeling to tight with the blades under your 5 left fingernails- trying to move them as little as possible.

You felt bad- not wanting to be in a room alone with him. Body shivering under his gaze- knowing that he knew you like the back of his hand.

"Come on, love. No need to worry" Price nearly purred- having sushed Soap out of the Room, sitting now where he sat. Crossing his buff arms in front of his chest. Taking in the sight of your panicked state with a gaze you couldn't quite read.

His cigar flickering in the Ashtray next to him- having it stored there for the moment. John shifted in his seat while his lips pressed together shortly. Orange light of the burning thing reflecting in his eyes.

As if his soul was burning as well.

Maybe it was

You were exhausted- drained. Mentally. Physically. You weren't fond of the torture- but lets be honest. Who was?- accepting the fact that your patience slipped the moment Soap pushed you onto that old fucking rusty chair.

But it was okay.

Accept and Adapt, right?

You were going to take Revenge, but for now...

"John" you sighed- slightly circling your shoulders in an lousy attempt to relax. Gulping- words feeling heavy in your throat.

... you should be going at this with a strategy.

"I would never- never betray you" you begun with a frustrated and hurt look- eyes piercing into his. You took a deep breath- fingers still hurting- blades cutting deeper into them after every movement.

Closing your eyes for a short moment- trying to pull yourself together, which was hard as you felt all over the place- shattered and only small threads making it possible for you to not be completely hopeless.

Call these threads the want to destroy them.

Forcing yourself to point your nailless hand at him softly- vulnerable look on your face. Who cared if you had to do this to get a milder punishment.

You didn't at the moment.

"You know that I always wanted to be like you" you added, wanting him to maybe take it easy on you. Reminding him.

Simon was the angriest and most betrayed-feeling one.

Gaz the most sad one

Soap the most cruel and revenge seeking one

And Price?

.

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.

"What are you doing 'ere, love" he chuckled with his warm voice- smoking on the balcony of the community area. Not expecting to see his newest, albeit most ambitious, member of 141 at such ungodly hours out here.

She looked suprised as well- not having thought him to already be here. She stammered- still a little bit shy around the sometimes owerwhelming group of man- being the only female in the force.

"Uhm Do you- do you want me to leave?" she asked with a red face- shame settling in her bones- not wanting to disturb her Captain.

he shook his head, patting the spot beside him. "Come one, dove" he gently insisted, taking her hand when she was in arms reach to help her onto the thick concrete balcony walls.

He liked her. Some fresh wind. Still a little bit green behind the ears- but a fast learner- he wasn't worried. She dangled her legs in the air, enjoying the cold breeze.

"What got you here?" he asked after some comfortable silence- taking a drag of his cigar- soon puffing the smoke out. "Couldn't sleep, sir"- you said, looking at the sight in front of you.

John laughed, earning a confused look from you. "Just John, love- we are not working right now, are we?" he asked with an amused look. Waiting till you nodded- taking another drag.

"Sir- Uh.. I mean John? Why are you here tonight?" you asked- still not used to calling him by his first name. "Couldn't sleep" he said with zero hesitation, making you laugh.

"Does that happen often times?" you asked again- this time more confident in talking to your Captain.

You liked him. He praised you- appreciated your work, answered your questions and noticed how you felt. You were drawn to him in a weird "I want to learn everything you know"- kinda way, wanting to learn his tricks and make him proud. You didn't knew where this was coming from.

"Kind off" he answered again with a smile- stretching his back for a second- sighing in content after that one bone popped- before turning to you.

"What about you, love? Insomnia, Homesick or Gaz's loud snoring" he chuckled at the last part- mumbling something along the line like 'That kid's snores are louder than a machine gun'

You shrugged. probably a mix of everything. "I don't know- I never was one to sleep good" you admitted- shooting him a glance- seeing that he nodded along your statement.

"How about this is becoming our secret, love? Huh, how's that?" he said with a small smile- pointing between you and him. "You mean a secret 'I cannot sleep and need a friend'-spot?" you asked with a cheeky smile- liking the idea.

"Just what I had in mind, dear" he said- painting a happy smile onto your face"

He never really told you that, but after that night- after some time- he always felt like you were his own kid- knowing that you wanted to be like him.

he watched over you, talked to you, spend time with you.

Worried about you.

so why?

why?

.

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.

he looked at you with a disgusted face- slight snarl on his lips, an uncomfortable sight for you.

"You saw me as an Idol, kid- and i regret to have ever taught you something" he said with a huff- index finger pushing into the tables surface to prove his point with such a force- making it shift slightly

"What-" you begun- utterly confused with shock, shushed by a warning look- eyes hollow at his words. Swallowing a thick lump down your throat at the statement- You tapped your foot anxiously- not liking where this was going.

His arms moving foward onto the table to prop himself. Body not that far away from yours- almost hovering over you. Saying your name to catch your attention. His head slightly tilted to the side- watching you attentively.

He hummed "You should know that you are nothing for me, you died right after you switched sides. Such a waste of potential" he clicked his tounge in annoyance. Making a motion as if he crumpled something in his strong fist- letting it fall away from his fingertips

Heart contracting slightly - closing your eyes- not wanting to believe any of that, knowing it wasn't near the truth- but it was impossible.

You felt as if he forced the words down your throat- hand clamped onto your mouth to make you swallow the hurtful sentences.

"In the end you were too weak, love. i knew you would break sooner or later. You aren't made for such a life" he continued- whispering. Something you've never seen before was glimmering in his eyes.

Downright bad stuff.

pulling yourself together. "You're lying" you chocked out, not wanting to hear his bullshit- earning a chuckle from him, he was amused.

You foot still tapped onto the floor- the fucker noticed it- pressing his shoe hard down onto your bare foot. Thick sole pressing marks into your flesh- making you stop with a quiet painful hiss while staring at him with a silent- hateful gaze.

It hurt. The way he was pressing down, sandwiching your toes under the strong heel of his shoes and the concrete ground.

"Maybe I am, Maybe I am not- but you know what is true, dear?" he whispered, taking a strand of your hair and putting it behind your ear.

His Shoe was back next to his other one- making you wiggle your toes quickly- trying to get blood flowing through them again. Taking his still glimmering Cigar between his fingers, little sparkles of ash flying around while he took it to his mouth.

"What?" you spat out, not wanting him to touch you again.

"All this time, you wanted me to love you, like you were my daughter- or someone special to me- i just thought you had a bad relationship with your father, but in the end i don't even care-" he admitted with a shrug- taking a drag from his Cigar- giving you a chance to comprehend his words.

His lies

"You followed me around like a lost puppy that wanted praise. A 'good job' or something else" he said- staring at your disbelieving eyes.

"When you got that, oh my god you were so happy" he chuckled. Making your resolve break for a second, eye contact wavering before you got your composure back- or what was left.

"What if i tell you that I never felt the same, huh? Love?“ he said with a dirty look. „You are just some mere Sergeant. Nothing more“ he chuckled quietly as if it was funny what he said. "What made you think that you could be different? Are you really that naive, kid?"

"Did they offer you Money? Sex? Honor" he laughed at his last word- making you feel small.

He smiled again as he saw your angered expression- he knew you would have probably jumped him if it weren't for the chains. Shadow deep on your face- jaw clenched and such a beautiful- furious- expression in your eyes.

Hands balling to fists- not caring anymore that it hurt like hell.

Fucker.

Fuckface

Motherfucking Cunt

Tears brimming in your eyes out of frustration- he marked his victory internally.

You were always someone to cry when frustrated.

His Hand opened as a gesture- wiggling his fingers slightly- mocking you. „You were just a.. toy? Yes i guess this puts it well“ he muttered- smile that didn‘t reach his eyes, stretched over his lips.

"Why did you decide to backstab us all, huh?" he asked with a frown- amused expression long gone. "Always telling us that you love us and that we are a family- for what!" he slammed his hand down onto the steel table- making you flinch slightly. His breathing got heavy, he was angry as well.

Fucking angry.

You huffed- the uneasy feeling sticking to the back of your throat again- nose burning, feeling the tears brimming in your eyes for the umpteenth time. Since when did you become such a crybaby?

„I told you, i didn't do it" you said with a shaky voice- swallowing the lump in your throat- getting frustrated again. Your plan wasn't working like you wanted.

"Aw, don‘t cry sweetheart“ he smiled again- hand reaching out to wipe your tears away.

"Don't fucking touch me, John!" you roared- voice filled with such a hate- it even suprised him at the moment.

His gaze grew cold out of the sudden, sharpening your senses in such a quick time- you wouldn't have noticed it, if it weren't for the change of atmosphere

Simon was the angriest and most betrayed-feeling one.

he took his Cigar away from his mouth, looking you in the eyes. Fire and Ice- You and Price

Taking your arm- holding it still with no effort, making you kick and scream- fight or flight response entering your body in one breath- trying to pull your arm away- raw rubbed wrists beginning to bleed easily under your Captains harsh grasp.

"No! Let go of me! LET GO OF ME" you yelled in pure panick, not knowing what he will do- tears falling once more- making it harder to see and breath- stool on which you used to sit, now discharged- kicked into some corner,

Gaz was the most sad one

You stood there- pulling with all your might, not getting away from the table you were chained to- not getting away from the man you were so fucking scared off. Desperatly crying out for help- nobody hearing you-

You were tired. You couldn't do all that shit anymore- it ate you up and left nothing other than a memory of what you used to be.

"Just fucking hold still"

he raised his voice- your protesting not not affecting him. It was the first time in a long time he yelled at you- making your brain shut down.

Voice Booming through the room- body stiffening in his hold, knowing you were getting treated worse if you do not listen to him now.

Soap the most cruel and revenge seeking one

He huffed- Cigar coming down towards you arm- flickering edge pressing down on your delicate skin of your pulse point- only then noticing his actions- immediatey beginning to yell once more-

Your screams filling his ears but he shut them out. He was seething. The Girl- the Woman he appreciated so much. The Sergeant he wanted to teach everything he knew.

You were just like his own for him. he couldn't understand your switch of sides. When did you become like this? Or were your goals already clear before joining 141?

He ignored his racing thoughts, pressing down harder to burn you- Just like his soul was burning after your Betrayal.

And Price?

Price was the one that hurt you the most with his words.

.

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.

Face expressionless as you stared at your thighs. Head resting on the tables edge inbetween your chained Hands.

you watched the inflamed stabwound Simon gave you- now that you saw it- hurting even more- redness spreading through your skin and wound not wanting to heal a bit.

Black and blue bruise forming around the wound- a consequence of the hilt that got rammed into your thigh.

You looked skinnier than ever- ribs poking through your skin

Eyes trailing up to your arms- severe burns littering the soft skin on your inner arm- all dot shaped- up to your elbows- yellow blisters forming on both arms

Your Eyes shortly looked at your hands- fingers- quickly adverting your gaze- not wanting to see them at the moment- pain still fresh and moving through your nerves.

Price‘s words echoing in your mind rent free- feeling yourself getting angry at that- not wanting to feel anything at the moment. Pushing them back- deep deep down. sealed

Shoulder burning as you turned your head- trying to inspect Gaz‘s uncomfortable interrogation tactic- also not looking any better than the one on your thigh the only good thing was that it didn‘t bruise as bad.

Johnny, Kyle, Price and Simon

They weren‘t your brothers, nor your Captain or your motherfucking Lover.

They were the one who betrayed you.

They were the rats.

Traitors.

Oh and you were gonna make them fucking pay

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!please do reblog!

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