John Price X You - Tumblr Posts

AKSHSJAKDHFJKAA IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR BLUSHING KICKING MY FEET

price x reader x alex - keep still

╰▸because these bearded beauties could do anything they want to me‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ cw‎:‎ fingering, being held down, reader overpowered, edging

alex who sits with his back against the headboard of the bed, your ass positioned snug between his thighs as your held closely against his chest. fingers squeezing your neck as he keeps your line of vision focused on the other man who has his head between your own thighs. the other hand snaked around your waist to keep you in place.

"c'mon, baby. keep your eyes on the captain." the sound of his voice sending goosebumps to rise on your skin, his lips close to your ear gently biting on the lobe as he tugs. "wanna be a good girl for us, don't you?"

the nod you give is small, but acknowledged by alex as he chuckles in response to it. fingers squeezing again as you let out a small gasp for air. price's eyes looking up to meet yours as two fingers pump into your already dripping cunt, his mouth like a leech against your clit as he sucks on it. only does he stop for a brief moment when a smirk forms on his lips as the gasp that leaves your mouth.

"can't speak, sweetheart?" price teases before his tongue swirls around the swollen bud, your legs squirming as you try to kick him away. it wasn't that you didn't want him to keep going, your body just highly sensitive to both of their touches right now. "tsk, keep still." he growls, fingers curling inside you as his free hand squeezes the thigh of your leg he has propped over his shoulder. the action causing your body to try and jolt forward, but alex tugging you right back against him.

"disobeying orders?" alex coos, lips now attaching to the side of your neck, the skin darkening as he leaves a mark.

"n-no." the whimper escaping your lips, grabbing at price's hair while the other hand grabs at alex's wrist. both men letting a chuckle out at the same time at your response when your body squirms again from the arousal. pumping you closer to an orgasm with his fingers, price's fingers suddenly pull out, your slick trailing them as they exit. the word 'no' leaving your lips again, this time in a pleading tone as price robs you from the release.

"mhm," alex hums, kissing your cheek. "she still needs some training on keep still."

price's lips placing a kiss on your folds. "you get closer every time, sweetheart." he mumbles, looking at you again. another kiss. the warmth of his lips against you causing you to whine. "shh, i know." your leg hooked onto his shoulder is guided off as he moves to position himself so his face is in front of yours. "good girls who don't disobey get to cum."

"but doesn't mean we still can't toy with you." alex whispers in your ear.

Congrats on 4k! Saw the post I was wondering if you could do a platonic fanfic? So with Dad!John Price + teen!reader with the prompt “I just wanted to be like you” with reader tell price that they’re thinking about join the military and with price being like “absolutely NOT.”

Take your time if needed!

-🫠

DIFFERENT PATH (Dad!Price x Teen!GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Dark thoughts, angst, price is a good dad but he needs to control his tempter, you butt heads and you’re both stubborn asses.]

YOU HAVE BEEN uncharacteristically quiet at the dinner table, John notes in his head. You’re a bit closed in on yourself as you actually eat your food instead of talk your head off like usual. He notes the way you keep your eyes lowered, your shoulders hunched; alarm bells are going off in his head because he isn’t sure if something happened, because you aren’t telling him anything.

You have been like this since school—you’re usually eager to hang around John since he’s usually away off somewhere in a different country, leaving you with a family friend for a couple of weeks or months at a time. This time? You came home, gave John a quick hug, a quiet “hi”, and you were in your room until he called you for dinner. He did not bother you once you shut your door—if you need space, he wasn’t going to deprive you of that. John knows he needed his space after coming home from school when he was younger.

“So,” John hums, a green bean in his mouth. He quickly chews, swallows, and takes a sip of his ice water before continuing. “How was school?” There’s a moment where your eyes actually flicker to him for the first time all night before they flicker back down to your plate, moving your food around with a fork; you shrug. John let’s out a sigh and tilts his head. “Words, kiddo.”

“It was fine.” You respond, your tone neutral. John notices the way you aren’t eating much, every few minutes is a few bites. You’re either scarfing it down, or you don’t eat it at all because you can’t stop talking. “Fine?” He questions, wiping his mouth with his napkin. You nod in response, knowing he’s trying to pry more information out of you. “Can I go to my room?” You ask, your jaw tight.

John pauses for a moment, a knot in his stomach forming. “Yes, you can.” He responds after hesitating for a few seconds. A heavy sigh leaves him as he watches you spring into action, grabbing your plate and bringing it to the kitchen before jogging up the stairs to where your room is. John knew this would eventually happen, something running across in his path of parenting where you wouldn’t want to tell him about something.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve taped your mouth shut about something, but as you’ve grown to be more independent—you’ve been very independent as he’s been away a lot—he fears the worst. John just hopes you would trust him enough to tell him about something bad happening; even if you were involved and there was drugs or something else, he wants you to trust him. John wants you to know that no matter what, he would love you. Nothing would change that.

“Goddammit.” John mutters, cleaning up the table, grabbing his now empty plate and dirty dishes. He brings them to the kitchen and washes off his plate before sticking it in the dish washer with the utensils, spotting your barely touched food. John puts his hands on the counter and leans against them, slipping back into thought once more. Maybe it was time to talk to you about how he would still love you, even if you were involved in some bad shit? Is that the correct move?

John hates it—being on his own as a father. Your mother has never really been in the picture and you’ve luckily never taken an interest in knowing her, so he’s ruled the possibility of your mother coming back into contact. John doesn’t want to think about the other possibilities; the other stuff that could suggest a reason for this clammy reaction.

No, he decides, if you need something, you will come to him unless he deems it necessary to properly intervene. John puts plastic wrap over your plate and puts it on a shelf in the fridge before he retreats to his office. He keeps his door cracked for you in case you decide to change your mind—he knows something is up—and he grabs a book, sitting down in his office chair. John blinks at the book in his hands before flipping open to where he left his bookmark.

You come downstairs an hour or two after dinner was served. John was only half processing his book, rereading the same sentence at least four different times when you knock on the cracked door. John blinks and looks up from his book, quickly putting the bookmark between the pages and shutting the cover. “Come in.”You open the door with a nervous look, your hands fidgeting. The cat quickly runs into the office with a soft “mrr” as you walk closer to his desk. John holds his breath for a moment as you approach. “What’s goin’ on, kiddo?” John asks softly.

You sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk with your hands in your lap. You glance at his face a couple of times before you groan and rub your face. You look back at him, your eyebrows furrowed. “Look, I know we talked about this before, but..” You trail off for a moment, looking to him for some sort of guidance. John gestures for you to continue with, “We’ve talked about a lot of things, love. Go on.”

You press your lips together before you utter something that makes John’s heart drop. “I was approached by a recruiter in P.E. class today.” John shakes his head quickly. “Absolutely not.” He says harshly, crossing his arms. “You already know my answer, I’m not signing anything.” You groan loudly and lean back in your chair. “Come on, Dad! This is truly what I want to do in life, I—“

“It’s a hard NO. Do you hear me?” John hisses, looking at you. It’s almost like he’s speaking to one of his men when they messed up. “You do not want to be in my line of work. You have no bloody idea what actually goes on.” You and your dad have had this kind of conversation before; back when you were fourteen. John had just assumed you were just getting more attached to him—since you were twelve, he’s been able to go on leave to be with you more often than he had been able to before. John just assumed it was sudden attachment due to the (family friendly) stories he had shared.

But no, even two years later, you’re still insistent on what you want to do. “Dad, please, just listen t’me—“

“My answer is and always will be no. You have no fuckin’ idea what happens out there, kid. It’s nothin’ like the games I’ve gotten you, you hear me? It’s nothin’ like the shows or the movies you begged me to buy you!” John snaps, his tone borderline vicious. You flinch at his tone, your heart dropping to your stomach. Your avert your eyes; John has never spoken to you like that before. You try to hold back the tears, but your gut is tight, throat burning as well as your eyes.

“I just..” You mumble. “I just wanted to be like you, Dad.”

John blinks, your shaky tone bringing him out of his protective rage. Guilt swirls in his chest, dripping down to his gut and settling uneasily. “Fuck, I—“ He stutters for a moment before taking in a breath in to gain his composure. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to snap at you like that, that’s completely on me.” John says with a much gentler tone than before, guilt lacing every word. Your gaze sticks to his desk instead of his face as you shrug, your eyes burning.

“That’s not okay for me to do, kiddos I just..” John lets out a heavy sigh. “You know I’ve been in the military my entire life; it’s not pretty. It’s not like the films you see, alright? I’ve seen.. many, many men and women be torn apart by bullets, blown up by explosives—hell, you know the nasty scar on my left side? I walked into an explosive rigged room when you were three years old, darlin’.”

That causes you to pick up your head and look at him with wide eyes, the tears brimming your eyelids. You blink, a tear quickly falling down your cheek. John has a guilty yet solemn expression, his eyebrows furrowed together; likes yours do when you’re also upset or thinking too hard about something. “Nearly cost me my life, kid. Nearly cost you your dad.” John says the last part quieter. He watches the way your eyes dart around as you process this information, your lips parting after a moment.

“Look.. I..” You trail off for a moment, your fingers licking at the seams of your pants. “I still.. I still want to, I just..” You pause. “I don’t see myself doing anything else, dad.”John closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. “You still have a year or two, I just.. I can’t sign anything for you, kid. If you die, I just—“

“—whAt if you die, dad?? You just admitted to me a risk you took and you’re still in the military despite having a kid!” You suddenly burst, your voice breaking. John blinks at you in surprise before folding his hands together in his lap, leaning back in his office chair with a quiet squeak of the bolts. “Why is it so different if I went in??”

John looks at you, at your passion and your frustration. “Because you haven’t been tainted by this life, love. You’ll never look at anything the same.” You give him a hard stare, the sadness turning into anger. “And if I said I’m ready for that?” A beat passes. “I’m not signing anythin’. But once you’re a legal adult, I can’t stop you.” You press your lips together; that’s one of the many things you and your father have in common. You’re both incredibly stubborn and won’t back down, and maybe you both bend and break the rules a bit. “I can wait.”

lumberjack!price who lets you stay in his cabin after he finds you on the side of the road in your broken down car. insists that you come stay at his house for the remainder of the day into the morning since it's getting dark out and the weather forecast is saying it might snow - last thing he wants is for you to be stranded without a place to stay while the car sits in a repair shop. and doesn't want a 'pretty thing' like yourself staying alone in a motel.

lumberjack!price who tows your car to the local mechanic he knows before the two of you head back to his cabin for the night. tells the local mechanic, simon, who you find out is one of his friends, that he'll cover the cost of whatever is wrong with it and to try to make it a priority. and despite your protests, he tells you not to worry about it and that simon owes him anyway so the cost won't be too bad. what you don't know is that he texted simon later that night to take as long as possible fixing up your car.

lumberjack!price who doesn't alarm you at all despite being a complete stranger. he's hospitable, kind and attentive to you when you both arrive back at his home. the wood and pine smell comforting, reminding you of christmas candle scent when you enter. shows you to the guest room and grabs you a change of clothes, but apologizes for the only option being large sweatpants or plaid pajama pants and an worn tshirt of his. 'pretty much a bachelor pad if you can't tell,' he jokes and you tell him it's no problem at all. offers to make dinner while you make yourself comfortable and have a chance to wash up. has the fireplace going when you reemerge from a shower with wet hair dripping, parts of his worn tshirt clinging to your chest from the damp fabric. swears under his breath slightly at the sight of you, but you don't question it as he covers it up quickly by pretending he burnt himself sightly while cooking.

lumberjack!price who chuckled when you begged to clean up after dinner as it was the least you could do after all his help today. and this time, the sight of him after his own shower causing you to fumble some of the utensils in the sink, soap suds your excuse for the slippery silverware that clanks against the glass plates. his large frame mostly covered in body hair while his own pajama pants hang slightly low, a darkened area of hair creating an obviously happy trail. his belly slightly protruding, but firm nonetheless. or at least that is what you think if you were to touch it. nervous 'no, no. it's okay.' leaving your lips as you subside his worry that him being shirtless is making you uncomfortable, explaining it's just a habit since it's normally just him around.

Angel this was so good!

ranking cod boys' intimacy style from gentle to rough feat: 141 + los vaqueros + others reader: afab, implied different readers for each cw: explicit smut, kink, fluff, pretty tame imo but lmk if you'd like something tagged NSFW BELOW CUT * MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

1.) the gentlest, surprisingly, is ghost. make no mistake, he'll absolutely fuck the daylights out of you if you ask him to -- would enjoy it, too. but as simon riley... honestly, this man is touch-starved and nearing forty. he is tired, baby. coming home from deployment, first thing simon does is shower (knows you hate the smell of war on him), then take a fat nap with you. if you're in the middle of something, no you're not. he'll literally scoop you up and fireman-carry you to the couch or bed, whichever is closest. simon loves holding you, wants to be touching you all. the. time. his favorite way to nap is wrapped around you like a fitted sheet; skin on skin, nose in your hair as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. loves it even more when, later, he gets to wake you with soft, open-mouthed kisses on your neck; the flat of his palm sliding down the gentle swell of your tummy, cuping you through your sleep shorts. simon likes you best like this. how you just... melt into him, still sleep-sodden and docile. it's one of the few things that feels right in his life. chemically, cosmically, karmically (somehow--simon doesn't think he'll ever feel like he earned this. you. that he'll ever really deserve to be yours). he takes his time; fucks you slow with his fingers, savoring your muted whimpers as he grinds into your clit with the heel of his hand. to simon, watching you come apart in the firm circle of his arms is kin to a fresco on a ceiling; a sliver of the divine, and he, a sinner, doomed to watch heaven from afar. but by some small miracle, you offer him salvation. when you cum, it's with his name on your lips, so round and lush with love, and fuck--if that isn't the thing to save him, then nothing will.

2.) second is rudy. sweet, sweet boy. he sees you barefoot in a sundress one time. one. that's all it takes to precipitously shift the trajectory of his life to one where he wifes you up and makes you a mother, in that order. you're the first person he's ever envisioned having children with -- the only one he thinks knows will be worth risking everything for. and once that mental picture settles in his mind, it’s all he can think of. it becomes his sole mission to get you under him and fill you with him til it takes. rudy is a missionary guy through and through--wants to see that pretty face, cariño so he can watch your cheeks and chest flush when you're about to cum. and the cute way your lashes flutter ("como alles de pollila, mi amor. fuck--") as he bottoms out in your sweet pussy, stretching you so good. and you're always so good for him -- wrapping your legs around his waist and tilting your hips to take him deeper, deeper. but god help you when he succeeds in knocking you up, you’re never getting a moment alone. consider rudy glued to your side for the foreseeable future. can’t seem to keep his goddamn hands to himself, either. doesn't matter that you’re uncomfortable and prickly and prone to random bouts of inconsolable crying at the worst moments. he takes it all in stride. his love is steady, solid. once, you blurt out something to the effect of i'm never going to be attractive again, my body is gonna be ruined by the end of this. and rudy (after a beat) laughs. pulls you forward til your face is buried in his chest, cradles you there when you try to squirm away. tells you he's literally so attracted to you right now he feels like he should be on some sort of list. he's watching you build a new human being inside your body. you're fucking powerful. he can't imagine anything sexier.

3.) next up is könig. from jump, he adores you; the way you smolder at the edges, the unwavering bite of your tone. kleine katze, such pretty claws you have... and he's perfectly content to settle for admiring you from afar; but where others shy from him instinctually, finding his size and perpetual quiet off-putting, you don't. seem to gravitate towards him because of it. you touch him with a gentleness that should feel foreign, but actually feels like home. this man is fucking gone for you. loves you in a way that irreparably and fundamentally changes him. may or may not have cum more than once to the thought of you: hips bucking desperately into the clench of his own fist. but he knows precisely nichts about romance, even less about flirting. has no idea you've been trying to get his attention for months. ultimately, you have to make the first move. and you do--crawling into his lap one night in a grimy off-grid safehouse after a mission went the wrong kind of sideways. when you draw up the mask he goes rigid, tense; but he almost lost you today. (thought for one endless, horrific moment that he had.) so he lets you pull back the mask--lets you see his face. and when you finally kiss him, it pulls a kind of sound out of him the likes of which he's never made before. a desperate, animal keen that claws at the walls of his chest. and könig's a gentle giant, but he is giant. you're both too hasty the first time; too desperate for closeness to prep properly, so it hurts when he bullies his cock inside you. he's significantly bigger than any of your previous partners -- twice as thick and several inches longer -- and by all rights shouldn't fucking fit inside you, but you're both tenacious enough to make it work. könig is certain salvation resides in the gummy clutch of your cunt when you take him to the hilt; shuddering as you cum around him from nothing but the way his cock stuffs you full and the pressure of his calloused thumb on your clit. it's so unbelievably hot, he cums on the spot; not needing friction or movement when he has you clenching down on him like that, scheiße. after, he takes care of you--holds you close to his chest til your breath evens out and you slip into the dreamless, black pool of sleeping.

4.) alejandro, my love. truly a man of passion. it's a long process seducing you, and he enjoys every minute of it. loves finding new ways to get you to blush almost as much as he enjoys fucking you til you're blubbering and cock-stupid. almost. he likes the idea of having a family with you, but is less pernicious about it than rudy. he knows how he feels about you; is confident it'll happen someday. that said, this man's breeding kink knows no bounds. the mating press was built for him; the perfect mix of intimacy and intensity, where he can look you in the eye as he ruts you so deep you can feel him in your fucking throat. also the most likely to suggest expanding your sexual horizons. frankly, alejandro is bisexual as fuck. loves the idea of you getting railed by another man (perhaps rudy, winkwonk) while he watches; loves the idea of you taking the both of them at once even more, but it's always about you. your comfort and pleasure is paramount, and he'll go to unfathomable lengths to make sure your needs are met. happy wife, happy life, he says, hauling you into a deep kiss when you point out that you're not technically married, yet.

5.) alex is the perfect equilibrium of rough and gentle. initially respects you as a colleague, maybe a friendly acquaintance. internally, he finds your competence and no bullshit attitude deeply attractive, but he's a consummate professional; would never put you into a position where you'd feel unsafe (outside of the obvious dangerous shit you already do). and then--he sees you shoot a gun. the way your body slides liquid-smooth into weaver, the easy roll back into isosceles in the recoil... it gets him so fucking hard so fucking quick. he has to physically remove himself from the range and rub one out in a bathroom stall, images of those firm hands pumping his weeping cock pulling him over the edge. images that don't fade, to his chagrin, even after the initial arousal is dealt with. every time he sees you, it just... pops back up, so to speak. he keeps it locked down as best he can, but fails pretty comprehensively at doing so. alex finally breaks after catching one too many recruits staring after you when you walk away (fuckin' animals--only he's allowed to do that). he seeks you out when you're both off the clock and ends up fucking you on top of one of the washing machines in the base's communal laundry room. the epitome of soft dom, comes pre-programmed with an obligatory daddy kink that you absolutely abuse to get your way. takes you out to nice restaurants seemingly for the express purpose of fucking you in the fancy-schmanzy bathroom. honest-to-god almost passes out when you choke on his cock for the first time; begs like his life is on the line for you to do it again, please, please--oh, fuck baby, yes. that experience reveals two truths to him: one, that he might be a switch, and two, that he might just have to marry you.

6.) now, keegan is a pretty tough nut to crack. it's hard to read him initially, even without the mask--but once you pick up on his tells, he's an open book. and that book wants you upended on the couch within seconds of you both entering the room. initially its just sex; a shared need to vent some frustration and stress. keegan is very private, mostly due to social discomfort and introverted tendencies. in the early days of your relationship, it manifests as him keeping you at a distance. for the first few months, he only ever kisses you when he's balls deep, and leaves after a five-minute come down. you rectify this through sheer persistence and charm. it's clear to you (far sooner than it is to him) that he's weakest to you when you give him big, sweet doe eyes and ask real pretty. this little trick works particularly well when you're riding him slow over the course of an hour, grinding down each time he bottoms out, til he's shuddering and begging you to please go faster--ah. f-fuckin' hell, kid, you're so tight, so good, fuck. when he cums, it's with a crackling whine of your name that pulls the knot of heat in your belly, sending you over after him. then, exhausted and fucked out, he falls asleep with you in his arms. he's still there the next morning when you wake, expression open and lax as he watches you wake. it's the first time you see keegan without reservations, when you realize he's got a gentleness to him--a kind of poet's sensitivity meant for libraries, museum archives, and the kinder side of nature. all overwritten by force to survive, to complete his mission. once you've seen the cracks in his mask, there's no going back for either of you. very quickly, your relationship shifts from distant and transactional to deeply personal; a tenderness blooming in the same garden as the newfound dedication to one another. keegan doesn't say I love you for a long time, but you know he does--you feel it in the way his dark eyes find you in a crowd, always seeking your familiar shape. you feel it in the way he presses your bodies flush from tip to tail while he's fucking you, when being inside of you isn't close enough. you feel it when he, for the very first time, asks you quietly if you'll stay the night with him, because he sleeps easier when you're there. so you stay--the night, and all those that follow.

7.) oh, gaz. such a mischievous little shit. your friend from your training days, you two scrap like puppies over anything and everything. banter is the cornerstone of your relationship, one-upping being a close second. you delight and infuriate one another in equal measure, bickering amongst yourselves til one of you takes a swing at the other. price has reprimanded you both multiple times for horsing around, but you're never in any real danger--you work too well together. there's a kind of shared consciousness between you; a base-level understanding, two wolves hunting in tandem. still, ghost refuses to let either of you sit together on the heli; not since that one time your game of grabass devolved into full-on grappling on the tarmac. ultimately, one of your little tiffs goes too far; ends with you both laid out on a training mat, groaning into each other's mouth as you grind your hips together through your clothes. you both pretend it didn't happen for maybe a week--then it happens again. and again. and again. being 'together' is never something you actually discuss with kyle. it just... happens. much to the chagrin of your lt and captain, the bickering actually increases when you two get together; becomes more like foreplay you can get away with doing in front of your superiors. and if this man isn't an absolute goddamn menace when it comes to exhibitionism. when he wants you, doesn't matter if you're in the middle of a meeting. fuck it--it's happening, and it's happening now. very playful in and out of the bedroom, likes teasing you in every sense of the word. he edges you so long sometimes you nearly kick him in the head when he finally lets you cum. there's my girl--oh shi--ah, haah, good fuckin' girl. he's largely aloof when it comes to his emotions--not the best at verbalizing how he's feeling or what he needs. so instead, he shows you. he shows up every. single. time. kyle's your friend before he's your lover; your partner in (war) crime(s). he's always got your six, you've always got his, and what is love if not someone who'd die (and live) for you?

8.) soap proudly describes himself as a pleasure dom, which is mostly true. but he's got serious switch potential. which you know for a fact because fuckin' hell, does that boy whimper somethin' pretty when you throat him juuuuust right. he's such a 'tits' man, it's crazy. loves to hold you close, feel your breasts smashed against his chest while he drives deep into the tight clutch of your cunt. but most of all, soap loves being on his knees for you. this man definitely moans while he eats you out, tonguing your pussy like it's a mouth. he feels big in every sense of the word--in sex, in love, in anger. and make no mistake, he loves you deeply. you two have some serious yelling matches, storm about slamming doors til the neighbors threaten to call the feds, but it's just your way. you're both headstrong and stupid; arguments are bound to happen, and any unresolved hurt feelings get a solid patch-job from the frankly earth shattering makeup sex that follows. like rudy, soap wants a big family with you, and he knew early. actually doesn't tell you just how early til years down the line. how after your first official date, he called his ma and asked if she'd send his nan's ring, please? because he's pretty sure he just met his future wife. said ring which glitters on your hand now, as you reach over and flick his forehead teasingly. tell him he can stop trying to romance you, you're already married. and could he grab more diapers on his way home from work?

9.) as are all things with graves, your sexual relationship is about power. he's an asshole in the worst way--condescending, smug, underhanded, sneaky in his sexism so you always look like some hysterical woman when you retaliate. the kicker? it turns you on as much as it pisses you off. he's happy to string you along, work you into a lather just to leave you high and dry. lord help you once he gets a taste of you--bending you over his desk and cramming you full of his cock with precisely zero prep. he kisses you, loves you, fucks you like he hates you. because he kind of does--he just wants you more. graves loves it when you cry, wipes your tears with his thumb before forcing it into your mouth. coos when you offer your neck up to him--yeah? want my hands on ya that bad, sugar? gonna be a good girl for me, hm? fuck yeah you are--and proceeds to make you cum so hard you black out. your 'relationship' (which it is; ring on your finger a year in, a little one on your hip not long after) is intense. toxic. would be just downright miserable if it wasn't so fucking hot. you cling to each other with gouging force; a livid-blue kind of love, painful and permanent. he carries a picture of you in his wallet: a small polaroid of you in your wedding dress, ashing a cigarette with one hand while the other flips the cameraman (him) the bird.

10.) and the roughest of them all: price wants more than to love or fuck you -- he wants to possess you. he's so tightly controlled everywhere else in his life (has to be for his work), doesn't seem the type to lose his head over a bird. but when he meets you, something shifts. you're soft. impossibly good. flippant and stubborn as a mule, sure -- you drive him up the fuckin' wall with your headstrong antics. (so goddamn petulant. so sure you're fuckin' right.) but war and death hasn't stained your world, left your indomitable spirit unsullied and intact. which, unfortunately, means you haven't gotten a thorough education on the importance of discipline. price wants to consume your disobedience; crack your rose-tinted glasses under his heel, roll the ambrosia of you in his cupped tongue. he'll do more than make you fall in line -- he'll make you want to do it. it's really just a matter of time before he acts on it. when he does, it's decisive. unsubtle. he crowds you up against the door of your flat on a sticky summer night, brandy on your breath. sinks a hand into your hair, holds you steady as he brings your mouths together with bruising intensity. he fucks you before he ever makes love to you; sinks his teeth into the velvet of your shoulder as he crushes you flat to the tabletop using just his bodyweight. snarls low when you keen wordlessly, overwhelmed and empty-headed at the deep burn-sting of his cock stretching your pretty little cunt, the lewd slap of his thighs against your ass. he batters you til you're not sure what's sweat and what's tears; til your skin bears a mural to his cacoethes, all blue and purple like a deep west sunrise. til there's not a person alive who won't be able to see you're his. always have been, always will, right dove? go on--tell him. tell him who this pussy belongs to.

written by kittsch, do not repost. not to be used for bots nor AI of any kind.

john price dad headcannons

wc: 1.3k warnings: fluff, angst, feelings of abandonment, found family trope, afab reader, inaccurate descriptions of adoption, tf141 cameo a/n: i have been going thorugh it ya'll and i just needed something self indulgent, but pt 2 for roommate konig is coming soon! MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

Price knew he wanted to be a dad from his early twenties, but he felt like a partner was off the table due to his line of work

He was so wary of adoption because if a partner wasn’t an option for him how would he feel about abandoning a child???

Nonetheless Price knew what he wanted in life and a child was all he needed and more

He started the adoption process once he turned 30

Oh man when he saw you for the first time he knew in his heart that he would give you the world! You had that man wrapped around your little finger before you even knew it

You had been in the foster system since you were 4 years old and you had just turned 10 around the time the time that Price was interested in adopting

Needless to say it was more and more disheartening as the years went on and nobody was interested in making you part of their family especially since you were now on the older side

The day that Price had come in and the social work case manager had come in to tell you that the man wanted to see you, oh your heart was beating a 100 miles a minute trying to culminate the best strategy to make the best first impression

The social case work manager left you two alone to get comfortable and feel out how the two of you would get along

Price is embarrassed to this day about how nervous he was to talk to a 10 year old LMAO he was sweating

You guys got along great in no time and there were wholesome laughs for the whole hour

Right before he left he gave you a pat on your head and said “I’m coming right back for you sweetheart, just you wait.”

And man did you wait

Two months to be exact and it was a devastating feeling 

You felt abandoned again and it hurt even more since you thought you really found a forever home

Once he finally did come back you just couldn’t hold back the tears and you wrapped your arms around his torso and refused to let go until the social worker has to pry you off so Price could proceed with the paperwork

Two weeks after that is when you officially moved into his home and you were vibrating with excitement in the backseat the whole car ride

He scooped you up from the backseat and piggybacked you into the home and your eyes were glimmering both from tears and from how happy you were to have a place called home

Price commemorated your first day home with a selfie of you two make silly faces and his bucket hat placed on your head that was much too big on you

He printed that picture immediately to put it on the fridge

Price was a superstellar dad for you

(You were a little bit spoiled, but Price would never admit to that)

He would watch youtube videos on how to do different hairstyles for you, he tried to attend all your sports competitions, and was there for your first orchestra recital!

The first time you properly called him dad instead of John was when he came to see your flute solo that you had in your sixth grade winter concert

Once you were done you frantically left backstage to look for him and he snuck up behind you to pick you up into a bear hug

He brought a bouquet of flowers for you and placed a kiss on the top of your head

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” Oh man did that open the floodgates for you 

You hugged him so tight and it was muffled into his shirt but Price would hear it as clear as day: “I love you so much dad. Thanks for everything.”

The both you were sniveling messes the whole way home that night 

Though when he did miss your school and extracurricular events there was always stung a bit more than you would care to admit

He would always apologize to you about his work duties and then leave you in the care of a trusted, live-in babysitter

It got even more annoying as you got older because he was very secretive about his job and never disclosed anything he did and you just wanted to know something

What does he do that makes him gone for weeks to MONTHS at a time???

The first time you met Task Force 141 was an accident and it was when you were 16

You were home after school hanging out with Price watching movies and was waiting for pizza to come

Once he heard the knock on the door he went to go get it, but he was taking a lot longer than expected and your stomach was starting to hurt from how hungry you were

“Dad, what's taking so long with the pizza?”

You reached the foyer and saw three very large men standing at the door and one of them was wearing a mask (???)

“Who are these people, dad? Am I Interrupting something?” You had a very weary eye on them and took a step back

They all looked at you then each other with the widest eyes and Price just stood there letting out the biggest sigh

“Boys, this is my daughter. Sweetheart this is Gaz, Ghost, and Soap.”

Oh these people were weird 

The two unmasked ones were grinning at you and the masked one was looking at you with such a scrutinizing look and it made you squirm

You quickly made it over to your dad and got on your tippy toes to whisper something in his ear 

“Dad, you have weird friends. I don’t like them at all.” He let out a cough that you’re pretty sure was used to cover up a laugh 

“They’re also my…coworkers.”

This made you raise your eyebrow out of curiosity

“I see…so what is it that you guys do?”

The one with the mohawk was about to speak until Price told you to wait in your room until him and his coworkers were done speaking

You sighed and locked yourself upstairs

“Mates, I want not a single word uttered about this in the slightest.” He pointed a firm finger at each of the men

“What’s the lassie’s name at least?”

“Y/N, Mactavish now leave it alone!”

Needless to say Soap nor the rest of the 141 left it alone and you practically became their little sister

They watched you grow up and were there for the night of your prom

They scared the piss out of your date and you got so angry

Your dad escorted them all inside to let you have privacy with your date

Price mostly rushed inside because he was about to start tearing up and he didn't want you to see him cry

They were there at your high school graduation too and you have a framed picture on your desk of all of them with big smiles holding you close with your diploma in hand

Now that you're in college it’s a lot harder to be away from them and especially your dad and there are nights where you just stare at the ceiling and clutch the stuffed teddy bear Price got you when you were younger and just look forward to when you’ll see them again

They try and make visits at least once every 2-3 months and it’s never boring whenever they come

Gaz and Soap try and gossip with you about any new boys you’ve met in college and Price likes to act uninterested but you know he has his ear angled in the direction of all three of you to see what you say

No matter the distance you know you have your forever family and they are your home no matter where you are or where they are.

Whumptober Day 4-John Price

✲Prompt: "You in there?"

✲Warnings: angst, little bit of military talk, feelings of self-doubt/incapability

✲a/n: yall get pretty much back to back whump drabbles since i posted day 3 super late so i hope you enjoy!

✲MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

You fled to your room with such urgency as soon as the heli touched down on the landing pad. You couldn’t stand the embarrassment anymore. You had just come back from an op with the rest of Task Force 141. You were a sniper that was most recently brought onto the team so you definitely felt like you needed to prove yourself. Needless to say, you got too gung-ho about your capabilities and missed a shot before the order was even given a direct order to let off the shot. You acted without thinking as soon as you saw the target in your sight, but you gasped as soon as you saw the target look directly into your scope and it made you miss your shot. 

All chaos had broken loose and the entire task force had gotten ambushed and had gotten more injured than what was expected for the mission. Worst of all it took months to even get a lead for the target and lord knows how long it's going to take for anyone to find a lead now especially since the target and his mob were now aware the task force knew about their operations. 

Ghost gave you a new asshole with how hard he tore into your mistake and immediately requested for Price to take you off the team. It was so hard to hold your tears back the entire helicopter ride back. You felt everyone's sorry stares on you and it made you want to just crawl into a hole and bury yourself away from this situation.

Now you’re hiding in your room and solemnly start to pack the very few belongings you do have into a duffel bag. The saddest part about this is it finally felt like you were part of a team that could become family. Soap, Gaz, and Price welcomed you warmly and made you feel like you belonged. Now you had thrown everything out the window due to a missed shot. Who knew everything could turn so fast due to a mistake? You know how much is put on the line due to this line of work, but you never knew it was going to be you that would compromise an operation. Especially to this extent.

As you zipped up the duffel bag you heard a knock on your door. Everything froze at once. You deliberated hiding under your sheets and pretending to not even hear it, but another knock came rattling against the door of your quarters. “Kid, you in there? It’s Price, open up!” You straightened yourself and quickly tried to fix your disheveled state.” Once opening the door you saw the soft smile on Price’s face but it looked somber. This felt like a goodbye before it even started so you felt the need to rip off the bandage from now to ease some of the pain.

“Sir I know what I did compromised the mission and the entire task force. What I have done cannot be taken back and I have packed all my bags and will leave the second you tell me my departure date and time.” You gazed down at your feet as you babbled to Price. He placed a hand on your shoulder and this stopped your spiel. You looked up into his eyes trying to figure out what he was thinking as his facial expression was hard to read. 

“Kid, listen I’m not kicking you off the team. Despite how Ghost acts, I’m the one who calls all the shots here. You will be put on probation for the next three months and will have your skills assessed at the end of each month. We all make mistakes, but I don’t want you to think that you aren’t good enough for this team. I hand-selected you and I only pick the best. Just get some rest and we will reconvene tomorrow.” You nodded dumbly and he wished you a final farewell with a hug. You slid down the door trying to sort out all the emotions you were feeling, but your heart rate had started to pick up and distract you. Why do I feel this way just from a hug from Price?

Oh. Oh!

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

been thinkin about the polar opposite of bimbo reader for price so i raise yall: ‘weird’ fiancee gf x price <33

you’re into vulture culture and are probably hoping to actually get into taxidermy too. you’re also into crowcore.

you have a cat, but john never knows which one it is because every time he comes back, it’s a different one (it started with a birman and the recent one is a british longhair. for some reason, all these cats answer to the same name – cecil).

john had, one time, walked into your office only to see a horrifying long furby snaking around your computer setup.

you describe colours in hex codes. john admits it’s actually so useful, especially for missions, so he picked up the same habit. ghost and soap absolutely hate him now, but kyle rides his wavelength so he’s unofficially been dubbed as price-translator.

you have different aesthetics, and john adores all. he first met you when you were in your goth era. currently you’re in your cyberpunk era.

…you’re in this RP discord and it’s all about lovecraft monsters. you’re abhoth.

and john? john indulges you. he would be cthulhu in your guys’ chat box if you need to use him as a soundboard to see if your silly little writing is making sense. he gifted you your most extensive toolkit for your interest in bone collecting. he buys you limited editions of furbies — you don’t know where he even gets them but you’re not complaining, of course!!

all he asks is that you marry him. pretty, please?

When you’re lost in the darkness look for the light—

warning: father-daughter relationship, mention of death, depression, school shooting, swearing, heavy topics, blood, kidnapping, reader is 19 years old or early 20s, family loss, trauma, ANGSTY!

My birthday passed and I miss my dad and love Price so here you have this angsty piece, grab tissues, you have been warned!

🤍

Price is a father- was actually.

Father of 10 year old Ruby who passed during a school shooting, did it take toll on his life? Yes... yes, it did.

Did he get married and have another kid? absolutely not. Always just a one night stand.

Price never thought he would have a kid, hell even handle one ever again after his was gone, his sweet Ruby– until.

A sarcastic and violent fourteen year old holding a sniper gun and hidden away from the world in a cabin a little away from the base that was attacked appeared.

At first like a pain in the ass but as times went by, she became the rest of his uncompleted soul, like the light in his dark life.

From being a smartass to him, to being a soldier under his wing.

And being a soldier under his wing means getting into trouble sometimes and getting yelled at by him, he didn't want to lose the one girl who like his Ruby.

After almost getting shot, she found herself in Price's office listening to his scolds, staying silent and moving the pen across the paper knowing better than to argue back.

“I know I ain't your damn dad, do I need to tell Ghost to always keep an eye on you because you can't take care of your own self?” He sneered causing her to stop and look up, giving him a frown.

oh…

it was always her saying that she knows he’s not her dad sarcastically just for him to retort back a “do you?” but she never thought it will be the other way around.

she stayed silent before opening her mouth to murmur a small “do you?” now that made him freeze.

His gruff demeanor softened a little but then hardened and he scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

“I…” he started, Price's brow furrowed, and he leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples, "Don't get all sentimental on me, kid," he grumbled, his tone gruff.

“I ain't got time for that shit. Just do your job and stay out of trouble, understood? you need to start acting like a grown ass,”

But despite his harsh words, there was a subtle warmth in his eyes as he looked at her, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between them.

Y/N did nothing but nod and huff sinking back on her chair, “fine.” he glared at her, “understood?” he repeated again causing he to stand up and walk towards the door.

“understood, old man, but if anything ever happens to me then just to let you know I did it like a grown ass. I’m a woman now, ain’t asking for help ever again,”

Price watched her leave, a mixture of frustration and affection swirling within him. He let out a gruff chuckle, shaking his head as he muttered to himself, “Stubborn little shit,”

he knew she liked him too much to stay angry at him, hell he saved her ass too many times and she saved his soul, she always came back to apologize for being stupid but this time she did come to see him before heading out with a boy she met a year ago.

a fling.

Price met him, but didn’t trust him, hell he hated the thought of the girl he raised meet a guy- well at least he watched her grow and become a woman not like his… never mind, Y/N will always remain the sarcastic fourteen year old to him.

his little shit who called him old man.

his light when he’s lost in the darkness.

Y/N knocked, peeking in, “hey… i’m heading out with Alexei to the cinema, just came to let you know,” she said with a small smile walking towards his desk.

Price looked up from his paperwork, his expression unreadable as he met her gaze, “Going out, huh?” he grunted, trying to mask the twinge of unease in his chest.

Y/N nodded, her smile faltering slightly under his scrutinizing gaze, “uh huh, just thought I'd let you know,” she replied, her tone casual.

Price's jaw tightened as he studied her, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, "Be careful," he finally muttered, his voice gruffer than usual.

Y/N's smile widened, genuine gratitude shining in her eyes, the childish twinkle he bought back after horrible shit with her abusive asshole of a family, “I will, cap. Promise.” everyone knew the; don’t promise something you can’t keep, rule.

As she turned to leave, Price couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach. “and kiddo?” he called out, his voice softer now.

She glanced back at him, a question in her eyes.

“Come back in one piece, back to me, alright?” he said, the vulnerability in his voice betraying his tough exterior.

Y/N's smile softened, a flicker of sorrow crossing her features, “always do, old man,” she replied with the brightest grin, she then stopped by the door.

“hey John… look, i’m sorry for being a bitch with you earlier when you’re just trying to look out for me, and you know that I love you right?”

Price's heart skipped a beat at her words, a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find the right response. "I know, kiddo," he managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. "And... I'm sorry too. Just... be safe out there, okay?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I will, John. I promise." never break that rule kids. 

With one last glance, she disappeared out the door, leaving Price alone with his thoughts and a gnawing sense of dread that refused to leave him.

But despite his fears, he couldn't shake the feeling of love and pride that swelled within him for the young woman who had become like family to him.

“give me a call once you’re there!” he called back loud enough for her to hear and make her chuckle.

–•–•–🤍–•–•–

first call was right before the movie, Alexei said hello, but now it has been 3 hours with no response from her.

no movie is 3 hours… especially not Romeo and Juliet.. Price searched up the timing of the movie of course, his paranoia ate him alive, but then… it went to 48 hours of no news from her.

he looked everywhere for her, yelling for the cops to search for her and his crew, driving around and hacking her phone just to find it in a car abandoned in an alleyway.

not a sound, not a sight of her, she just… vanished– no way was his Y/N running away, she was happy with him, Price can feel himself losing his sanity minute by minute, cops looked everywhere around, his crew asked, searched, he looked even in the woods under the rain.

until 71 hours later, 2 days and 23 hours later… he got a call from a random number, Price stopped his crews and put his phone on speaker, “hello? kiddo? is that you?” he started but was cut off by ragged breaths, like someone was shot in the lungs or was badly hurt.

“dad?” she started between heavy yet rapid breaths, “Y/N?” Price's heart raced as he listened to her ragged breaths. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

for the first time she called him dad and it wasn’t in a sweet way, it was filled with fear like her life depended on it.

Price's voice shook with worry as he waited for her response, his crew hanging onto every word, “I’m in trouble, Dad,” Y/N gasped, the sound of fear evident in her voice. "I don't know where I am... They took me... I'm scared."

static can be heard in the background like shuffling causing him to wince and push the phone away from his ear.

Price's mind raced, his hands trembling as he clutched the phone. “Y/N, stay calm, baby girl, We'll find you. Tell me, can you see anything around you? Any landmarks?”

Y/N's voice was strained, “I-I don't know... look, Alexei is with the Russian gang, he’s a spy, he has always been- I shouldn’t trust him, hack this phone, and his real name is Dimitri Smirnov, was in jail for 3 years because of “you” apparently, I managed to knock him out but please for the love of god…” she took a deep breath, oh so shaky, it’s like her soul was slipping away by the second, after each inhale.

As her voice trembled through the phone, each word seemed to carry the weight of her suffering.

Her breaths were ragged, shallow gasps punctuated by the sound of her struggling lungs. Pain dripped from her voice like blood from an open wound, seeping into the airwaves with every strained syllable.

well she was bleeding from the side, hell she was bleeding all over in this random ass cabin freezing to death and holding her side for dear’s life at the corner with his phone in hand as Alexei laid unconscious– or should she say Dimitri, hell she couldn’t even move to kill him, the chains did hurt like a bitch.

“I want to go home… cause i’m fucking bleeding out and I don’t know if I’m living, please Price, please… just..”

yeah she’s dying, definitely dying…

her essence fading like a flickering flame in a gust of wind, voice trailing off in the distance same way her essence did…

The static in the background mingled with her gasps, a cacophony of agony and desperation that echoed in Price's ears like a haunting melody.

he won’t forget this- ever, whoever in the heavens listening to him and watching over him seemed to like the sight of his suffering, hell he knows he won’t ever forget those ragged breaths of hers.

it will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“come take me home,” her voice cracked with anguish, the weight of her words bearing down on Price like a heavy burden. It was a slow, agonizing descent into darkness, her lifeblood draining away with each passing moment, leaving behind only the hollow echo of her pain.

with that the line cut off, Price barked orders, tracking down her phone, and as soon as Gaz found the location they were off.

a haunting location, a house in the middle of the woods, burning from the inside.

Price froze, but then in a second, he raced towards the back of the house where the fire still hadn't reached the spot, kicking the door with all his force with his men behind he could feel his heart hammering as his eyes moved around in desperate search of her.

as soon as the door opened a sharp whiff of smoke hit his face, causing his eyes to squint and become watery, he coughed a little but that didn't stop him from moving in, calling out her name.

but then Ghost called him from one of the ends of the hallways, "hey cap! You might wanna see this!" he said through his mask causing Price to walk towards the man who pointed at the chains on the ground leading from the kitchen all the way through the fire and to the attic room.

Price's heart sank as he followed the trail of chains, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened to her. The flames roared behind him, threatening to engulf the entire house, but he pushed forward, determined to find her.

fine running through fire was a stupid idea but he wasn't burned or caught by the fire surprisingly, instead, he walked down the stairs but Ghost was quick to catch up stopping him from doing anything crazy when the door to the attic room opened.

"get out of my way, lieutenant," an order.

"let me check first," was all Ghost said before the masked soldier reached the entrance to the attic room, it wasn't locked... Simon took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he might discover inside, preparing for the worst.

gun in hand, the other reaching to push the door so slowly so he could sneak in just in case the "killer" might be by the door ready with a gun or a knife or even a brick.

however, the scene before him sent pure fear through his veins, horror gripping him alive, the room was dimly lit by the flickering flames, casting eerie shadows on the walls but the air was heavy with smoke and the acrid smell of burning wood.

and Simon was never one to be easily shaken.

he even forgot to point the gun around just in case of an attack, his eyes landing on the body in the center, empty eyes staring right back at him, barely blinking.

Ghost wanted to throw up, for the first time ever after millions of missions, he wanted to throw up at the sight, not at her... but the state she was in.

On the ground, beaten so badly, covered in blood from head to toe that he couldn't even recognize her features until his eyes landed on the earrings, twinkling, but with drops of blood still.

his breath hitched the more he took her in, the once nice shirt she wore ripped at the sleeves and top, barely warming her up, a hand chained while the other was on her side, ankles on the other hand both were chained keeping her from moving.

a bloody golf bat by her head, the hair she straightened, now curled and damp, spreading around and dirty thanks to the thick pool of blood— a bloody golf bat by her fucking head- the fucker had beat her to death until she was paralyzed with a fucking bat, not only that, but she was either shot or stabbed to the side.

her breathing- oh her breathing was- ragged, her cheek pressed to the ground and eyes staring right at his slowly losing the sparkle of life, slowly, god he couldn't imagine the excruciating pain she was in if her eyes were still open.

tears racing down the side of her face, pushing some of the drops of blood away.

Ghost's heart clenched with a mixture of rage, sorrow, and helplessness, and finally, he knelt down beside her, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her cheek, feeling the warmth of her fading life, blood coating his gloved fingers as soon as he reached for her.

The weight of the situation bore down on him, and he struggled to breathe, his body shielded her face from Price who would probably drive himself to madness if he saw her.

his daughter-

"Stay with me," Ghost whispered, his voice choked with emotion, "We're here now. We'll get you the help you need. Just hold on. Price is here- John's here..."

she tried to open her mouth and whisper something but only her fingers twitched and her lips parted, words turned into nothing but rough breaths.

"Lieutenant?" oh shit- oh no what should he do, Price was calling out for him, what should he fucking do? no response. he just.. stood and took a step back.

Price frowned, eyes moving to his gloved hand, a drop of blood, thick and so red landed on the wood, but when Simon didn't respond to his call only stared at the body.

He moved to the side, but then his breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in disbelief and horror they almost popped out. His mind struggled to make sense of the unimaginable truth before him.

It was his little shit lying there, battered and broken, her fragile form barely recognizable beneath the blood and bruises. The world around him seemed to blur as he fought to comprehend the magnitude of the atrocity committed against his precious girl.

Every fiber of his being screamed out in agony, and he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest.

and he moved, running to her side, collapsing on the wood, and reaching for her, taking his sweet Y/N in his arms, he held her against his chest and he swore he could see the way her eyes lit up as soon as she was in his arms.

Price could barely recognize her features, so he reached a shaky hand to brush her hair away from her face and with his sleeve, wiped the blood away carefully without hurting her even if it was painful even holding her, she didn't wince, but just stared, relaxing in his arms, breaths still fast but they slowed down as her fear evaporated like it was never there.

and she opened her mouth, mumbling the tiniest, "Hi old man..." Price almost sobbed at that, tears threatening to spill, yes he was emotional, for fuck's sake, "Hey kiddo... you're fine, just, try to talk to me we'll get you help," he whispered holding her, supporting her head like she was a baby instead of an eighteen-year-old woman.

He reached to push the strands of curls that clung to her bloody face, revealing a glimpse of her delicate smile. It was a bittersweet sight, pain, and fatherly love together.

With a trembling voice, Y/N managed to utter a few more words, her words barely audible, but Price leaned in closer, desperate to catch every syllable.

"come on, captain, scold me, it's better than this look," she whispered between ragged breaths, her voice weakened by the ordeal she had endured, tears streamed down Price's face as he listened to her brave words.

He couldn't fathom the depth of her courage and resilience in the face of such brutality. His grip tightened around her gently, as if trying to transfer his strength to her fragile form.

"I'm not scolding you at all, kiddo, never again," he said, he promised– as if that would make her stand and heal.

it won’t. it certainly won’t.

her vision grew blurry, the body heat slowly vanishing and colder then ice, black spots surrounding her vision, she didn’t know what to say.

"you’re my home, old man…" she whispered feeling her eyes flutter on their own, she wasn’t controlling her body, Price noticed and tried to shake awake talking about how she shouldn’t leave him or whatever, she couldn’t hear a single thing as peace slowly washed over her.

with weak knees she pushed herself using her tiptoed closer so her face in buried in his arm and his scent greets her into a warm embrace.

"no no no no- kid. stay awake," she would’ve laughed, joking about how he gives her orders even when she is on the verge of death.

"you’re my kid… you’re my home," he whispered both to her and to himself, so he doesn’t lose his sanity, to convince himself, he shifted so he will hold her in his arms into the tightest hug while her body is growing limp.

her breathing were ragged and as soon as he shifted and held her head against his shoulder, holding her head, it slowed down… and then stopped.

just stopped.

Price was frozen, heart shattering into so many little pieces, "Y/N? kiddo?" he asked shaking her a bit but as he glanced to the side, her eyes emptily staring up, lifeless, twinkle no longer there, no breathing escaping her mouth or nose, lips parted, head falling back, he knew.

his Y/N was gone, his sweet baby girl, in his arms, her bloody hand holding on his sleeve like it always did loosening and falling limp on her side.

Yet another soldier, yet another daughter vanishing from his arms and his life like a dying light, like a dying star, like dust in the wind.

well that’s life… ups and downs. never make promises you can’t keep kids.

Never

***

I hope you enjoyed it guys!! edit is shit but the story ruined me! please let me know what you think🤍

no because I’m back on my bullshit about accidental sugar daddy!Price where he first runs into you at the café, one of the jobs where you’re working to make ends meet (exorbitant rent and a crippling school tuition mean a paycheck-to-paycheck life) and he’s kind of this intimidating, hulking figure (had a bad day too, probably, so he’s got a sour look on his face) who’s just come in for tea and of course; of course – you’re the one who’s tasked with making his order but now have to be the one to tell him that contrary to what the cashier rang him up for, there actually isn’t anymore earl grey

so he just says to give him whatever you think is best, which is even worse of an ordeal than the fact that you’d run out of his original order, because you’re not sure how to fulfill that request without pissing him off; and then you’re nervously waiting for his reaction as he looks like the type of bloke that would have something to say about it, so lo-and-behold, he stalks over and your palms are clammy because you might get chewed out in front of all your coworkers and the other customers but he just directly hands you a ridiculously unproportional tip to the cheap cup of tea he’d gotten with a ‘thank you’ and an utterly endearing smile that makes his face seem a hundred times warmer than when he’d first come in

and then he shows up again the next day, asking for the same drink that you’d made for him – does this like clockwork, same time every day to the point where you make the drink the moment he arrives so he doesn’t have to wait in the queue; and the tips are still ridiculous, forking over a £20 note because he’s good for it and money is money so who are you to argue with him

but then you lose your other job and have to pick up more shifts at the café, to which he finds out when he comes on a day he doesn’t know you’re working and you’re honest with him about the fact that you’ve got a 6-figure debt for medical school so after your shift, he has a talk with you, pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and offers you like £500 in notes (if it’s going to a good cause, why not – he lives alone, more money than he knows what to do with aside from sinking it into bottles of Macallan and spending it on Villa Claras) thinking that it’ll help but it’s preposterous

and he’s just like, we’ll consider it an advancement in tips for the foreseeable future and you refuse to take it but Price just says fine you can pay him back but there’s no deadline for it; and at that point your pride goes out the window because you’ve got a late rent notice waiting on your kitchen counter and you can’t afford to not take it

so eventually this thing comes to fruition where he’s funding your tuition and living expenses/bills (probably makes a joke somewhere in there about you being his doctor one day), and he’s not expecting anything in return but you feel obligated to do something because he’s the sole reason you’re not a med student bumming it out on the streets and then after months of friendship development it finally gets spicy~

𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Re: Price letting her rent the spare room you just know he mentions that he travels a lot for work and often for stretches at a time so really she’d be doing HIM a favor by having someone around while he’s gone u.u

𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚!𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 || 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Tells you to make the common spaces yours as well because you live here now too, and one of your first measures is to set out a vase on the kitchen counter, regularly fill it up with fresh flowers until you start getting so swamped with your studies that you accidentally let them wilt for days at a time; Price eyes them for a while, wonders if you're going to replace the bouquet yourself until taking matters into his own hands and then deciding to go out of his way to pick up something nice-looking (he doesn’t really care much for flowers, but you seem to take an interest so he tries his best) from Petals at Bibendum on Fulham Road. The ladies swoon when he drops by every two to three weeks only for them to find out that he's literally doing this for his roommate to which they start rooting for him, unbeknownst to you, and he sets up a delivery service for when he's off on deployment or he'll literally show up home after a mission still in his military garb with a bouquet of flowers in the doorway like it’s not something a boyfriend or husband would do.

When you fall asleep on the couch watching the telly and he wants to carry you to your room but out of respect, he instead opts for layers, slips your quilt from the arm of the sofa – another lovely addition of yours that makes this a home and not just a place that he occasionally stays in when he's on leave – and tucks you in so you at least don't get too cold in the middle of the night.

Lets you know when he's coming back from deployment (out of courtesy) but discovers that you've thrown together a small, home-cooked meal for him if he gets in early enough for dinner or have his favorite take-out from one of the restaurants that still happen to be open late at night (it's the least you can do, isn't it?). In your other flat, you'd use candles a lot because your lights always had issues that the landlord would never fix, and that's a habit that you've carried on over to Price's place. So all of the food, the entire spread, is laid out on the dining table and it's dim aside from the fact that this is basically a candlelit dinner. And you don't even realize the romantic atmosphere, because for all intents and purposes, this is merely a friendly homecoming surprise and the candles are day-to-day. But he notices. It's strangely domestic. He never had that before you started living there, but he knows that he doesn't ever want to go back.

He occasionally has nightmares and since your room is right next door, you can hear when he’s in the middle of it; you just pad out to the kitchen, get the kettle ready for camomile (over his usual earl grey or lapsang souchong) to put him at ease since there’s no caffeine in it; you grab some first-edition book he has from his personal collection, have it open to the beginning and his mug steaming on the coffee table in the living room – he finds you waiting, snuggled under blankets and not needing an explanation, just ready to comfort him as you make room for him on the couch and begin to read aloud. He never pays attention to what you’re saying, only spends the entire time staring at you and debating whether or not he'd lose you if he professed his love for you this early.

lumberjack!price who lets you stay in his cabin after he finds you on the side of the road in your broken down car. insists that you come stay at his house for the remainder of the day into the morning since it's getting dark out and the weather forecast is saying it might snow - last thing he wants is for you to be stranded without a place to stay while the car sits in a repair shop. and doesn't want a 'pretty thing' like yourself staying alone in a motel.

lumberjack!price who tows your car to the local mechanic he knows before the two of you head back to his cabin for the night. tells the local mechanic, simon, who you find out is one of his friends, that he'll cover the cost of whatever is wrong with it and to try to make it a priority. and despite your protests, he tells you not to worry about it and that simon owes him anyway so the cost won't be too bad. what you don't know is that he texted simon later that night to take as long as possible fixing up your car.

lumberjack!price who doesn't alarm you at all despite being a complete stranger. he's hospitable, kind and attentive to you when you both arrive back at his home. the wood and pine smell comforting, reminding you of christmas candle scent when you enter. shows you to the guest room and grabs you a change of clothes, but apologizes for the only option being large sweatpants or plaid pajama pants and an worn tshirt of his. 'pretty much a bachelor pad if you can't tell,' he jokes and you tell him it's no problem at all. offers to make dinner while you make yourself comfortable and have a chance to wash up. has the fireplace going when you reemerge from a shower with wet hair dripping, parts of his worn tshirt clinging to your chest from the damp fabric. swears under his breath slightly at the sight of you, but you don't question it as he covers it up quickly by pretending he burnt himself sightly while cooking.

lumberjack!price who chuckled when you begged to clean up after dinner as it was the least you could do after all his help today. and this time, the sight of him after his own shower causing you to fumble some of the utensils in the sink, soap suds your excuse for the slippery silverware that clanks against the glass plates. his large frame mostly covered in body hair while his own pajama pants hang slightly low, a darkened area of hair creating an obviously happy trail. his belly slightly protruding, but firm nonetheless. or at least that is what you think if you were to touch it. nervous 'no, no. it's okay.' leaving your lips as you subside his worry that him being shirtless is making you uncomfortable, explaining it's just a habit since it's normally just him around.

lumberjack!price who grows accustomed to having you around after a few days. his 'manly' cabin that have has only ever graced by his presence, a few friends and family now and then, had touches of you now.

the disheveled throw blanket that decorated the recliner with a book you had picked from one of his shelves.

the lingering scent of your perfume after you had freshly sprayed it on and moved throughout the cabin.

instead of one coffee cup sitting in the sink after breakfast, two now sat in the kitchen sink - his always left with nothing and your cup with little less than half of the coffee remaining.

but it's the panties that get mixed in his clothes by accident after you had forgotten to taken a singular pair out of the dryer. when he's in his room folding the clean clothes, he can't help but swallow the largest lump in his throat when the fabric hooks around his finger. he isn't a shy man by any means, and he feels rather confident when it comes to women, however, he's more concerned seeming like a creep right now. what if you think that he took them from the room you are sleeping in? which then means you think that he went through your stuff. with his body already on high alert, he curses to himself when there's a knock on his door, causing him to quickly shove the panties into his front jean pocket. both hands shoved into his pockets now as well, he turns to face you.

"everything okay?" voice indicating no sense of panic as he looks at you.

"mhm," you hum, your phone in your hands buzzing as you glance down to read a message. "i was just wondering if you had heard anything about my car."

shaking his head, price goes back to folding his clothes as he avoids eye contact with you. he wasn't going to look you in the eyes and lie as he spoke, "simon's backed up. bunch of people had issues after the snowstorm."

a soft 'okay' leaves your lips, but it doesn't sound like disappointment. it's almost as a smile accompanies the word after you say it. therefore, causing price to glance back over at you to confirm or deny the feeling. but by the time he tries to steal a look, your body is already turned away from the inside of his room and making its way back to the spot on the recliner.

needing to clear his head a bit, once he's tidied up a few things around the cabin, he heads outside to the backyard to catch up after a few days of not chopping any wood. grabbing the axe, he begins to get through a good amount of wood in the next hour. his breaths exhaling into the cold air as mini, fleeting clouds indicate he's steadying his breath. only then does he notice you've moved from the recliner in the living room to now sit in the sun room, your knees pulled up to your chest on the couch facing the window that offers you a direct view of him.

setting the axe down, his hands go to his hips as he rests them there as his chest continues to rise and fall; eyes still locked on you up in the sunroom. and at that point, you couldn't even hide the fact you had been watching him since the book you had been reading sat next to you on your side, closed and untouched for the past 45 minutes. his smile painting his face, clear despite his bear that surrounds his mouth as it's a toothy grin, a small nod of his head directed towards you. your cheeks warming at the gesture before you give him a small wave and quickly grab for the book, directing your attention away from him to avoid further embarrassment of being caught staring.

in an effort to warm his hands for a moment as well, they slip away from his waist and shove into the pockets of his jeans. one hand met with the panties he had shoved in an hour earlier, fingers toying with the fabric.

I want the big man to fight for me! 😍

Grocery Shopping with Price

My blog is predominantly 18+ minors DNI

No warnings but there are mentions of food, reader is able to have periods, but otherwise blank slate. 632~ Words Lynx is the UK brand name for Axe body spray

Price just likes letting you take control in these scenarios.

Yes, he’s happy to meal plan and list build with you, he loves that aspect, it’s very on-brand for him. But when it comes to strolling through the aisles, picking things out off the shelves, he leaves the control to you.

You send him off to retrieve things from across the store and he comes back with exactly what you ask for without fail.

Sometimes he’ll remember other things from the list on the way, piling up impossibly large amounts of produce and dry goods in his muscular arms. He even hid a jar of your favourite night-cream under his boonie hat that one time that had you crying with laughter.

Today you’re in the fresh produce aisle, poking and prodding, groping and grabbing at different fruits and veggies to determine ripeness and freshness. You’re cramping like mad, and you’ve sent John off to get the majority of the shop as you hobble around, clutching at the trolley for dear life.

You’re two days into one of the worst periods of your adult life, and already wishing you’d just got John to do the shop so you could stay home cradling a hot water bottle. You’re minding your own business as a shadow looms over your shoulder.

“Need a hand there, pet?” An unfamiliar grunt makes you pause as you slowly turn to look up to address the source of the intrusion.

The man is your typical sleazy gym bro with gelled hair and a smirk that you guess is permanently etched on his smug mouth. The overwhelming stench of Lynx Africa rolling off him in waves. You crinkle your nose at the offensive odour, reminding you of high school locker rooms and pubescent boys.

“I’m good, thanks,” you say, immediately turning back to your trolley, hoping to move on, even if you hadn’t got what you were looking for.

Deescalate.

You can almost hear John’s voice in your head as you feel the dude-bro shadowing your hasty retreat.

“Aw,” he groans, practically jogging to catch up to you, “Don’t be like that, what’s your hurry?”

“I’m here to shop, not get hit on by some dickhead with an ego,” you snap, letting your hormonal rage seep out as the guy just doesn’t take the hint.

“Woah, no need to be a bitch,” the fuck-head says with wild gesticulation of his hands, “You on the rag love?”

You’re about to snip back at him when your trolley collides with something solid. You groan and are about to spool up a profanity ridden apology when you hear a familiar growl.

“So what if she is?” John snarls as you look up to see his arms laden with what seems like every item on the list as he glowers at the douchebag at your elbow.

“Whatever man,” he scoffs at John as he holds his hands up in cocky compliance, “Have the bitter bitch.”

“You watch your mouth,” John says as he meticulously stacks the produce in the trolley, not once taking his stormy blue eyes off the other man, “Or we’re going to have a problem.”

“John,” you intercede, already over this whole dick waving competition, even if you do love it when he gets like this, “Let’s just get home, yeah?”

“Whatever you need,” he says as he finishes loading up the trolley. You finish the shop quickly, with John insisting he drives you home and gets you tucked up in bed as soon as possible.

It’s not until he takes off his hat while unloading the groceries that he realises he still had a bag of your favourite sweets stuck under his boonie hat. He makes a mental note to go back tomorrow and pay for them.

CoD Masterlist Grocery Shopping with Gaz Grocery Shopping with Ghost Grocery Shopping with SoapGrocery Shopping with König

Tomorrow is a Long Time 𝜗𝜚 John Price

Kinktober Day V: Masturbation

summary: the hubby misses you tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, masturbation (m!recieving), longing, yearning, captain peepaw’s tasty loins, yummm, author does not attempt at accents wc: 618 a/n: i kept this one short sorry i was pretty busy today because my washing machine was broken lol

MASTERLIST

John stood beneath the steaming spray of the shower, feeling the hot water soak into his skin and muscles, easing the tension from his body. He let out a deep, involuntary groan as the cascading water massaged his back, his hands dragging down his face as the warm droplets dripped from his hair and over his closed eyes.

He slid his hand down his stomach, leaning his head backward as his mind conjured images of you: sprawled out on his bed, deep moans of his name slipping past your pretty parted lips, eyebrows furrowed until the crease between them deepened. He fantasized about your pretty eyes gazing up at him, nails digging deep into his back as you arched your chest, pushing your perfect tits into his awaiting mouth.

He let out a deep grunt as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, beginning in slow strokes as he squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to travel back in time just before he left, pounding your pliant body into your bed until tears were slipping down your flushed cheeks, sobbing his name as you came, clenching around his cock like a vice refusing to let go.

John rubbed over his bulbous tip, his hips bucking into his hand, pretending you were bent before him, ass spread, and waiting for him to sink his undeserving prick into your wet and greedy hole.

He called out your name in hushed whispers, trying to keep his voice low as he pleasured himself at the thought of you. It's only been one week, and he could feel the longing begin to settle deep in his bones. He wished he could be with you, holding you in his arms as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

He spread his thighs, placing his hand on the wall in front of him, leaning forward as his movements picked up in pace, pretending his fist was your sweet cunt enveloping him in your velvety walls, your pussy so wet it was running down your thighs and onto the floor.

As the images painted vividly behind his eyelids, his moans increased in volume, and he called out your name in desperation. He was so close. His top teeth sink into his bottom lip, and his sensitive skin reddens under the pressure.

“Please…” he moaned as if you were around to hear, but in his mind, you were. In his mind, it was your hand instead of his, taking his cock in your soft and smaller hands, no calluses, just gentle deft fingers moving up and down along his shaft, collecting his pre as you sank to your knees, darting your pink little tongue to taste.

“Fuck!” He barked, his wrist twisting even faster as he worked himself to completion, thick ropes of white shooting out from his tip. Some of it landed on the wall, oozing downwards towards the floor before sinking into the drain. But he pictured he was fucking it down into your willing throat like a good girl.

John didn’t want to open his eyes, to face the reality that you were not really there, so he kept his eyes closed, pretending you were still there. You helped him ride out his high like you always do while kissing along his neck and chest, telling him how much you loved him.

“I love you too,” he whispered back into an empty room, his hand eventually slowing into a stop as the last of his cum escaped from his tip. He reopened his eyes, staring down at his hand still wrapped around his cock; he couldn’t help but heave in disappointment even though he already knew you weren’t there.

“Fuck I miss you…”

main masterlist, rules

Under The Influence of You 𝜗𝜚 John Price

Kinktober Day XIII: Blowjobs

summary: hubby works too long and too hard he deserves some lovin’ for taking such good care of you tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), praise, fluff, dom!john, sub!reader wc: 1k

MASTERLIST

“That’s it, sweet girl…nice and easy,” John purred from above you, one hand pressing behind your head as he eased his cock further down your throat. His blue eyes squinted in pleasure, his lips pressing together as he groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you struggle to swallow him.

Your fingers sunk into the clothed skin of his thighs, your mouth stretching wide to accommodate his thick length until your jaw began to ache and tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to slip down your cheeks as you fought to keep them open.

He let out a low, satisfied grunt at your efforts, the sound vibrating through his body and making his muscles tense under your fingers.

Appreciating your dedication despite the apparent discomfort with a slight twinge of concern for your well-being, John tightened his grip on your head, guiding your movements with a gentle but firm rhythm.

"Good job," he praised huskily, moaning your name as he watched your tears fall silently onto his thighs. "Just take your time; I'm not going anywhere." His other hand gently brushed away a stray strand of hair that clung to the side of your face, his thumb lingering to trace the line of your jaw before he returned it to his side, allowing you to focus on pleasuring him without distraction.

"Mmm," he approvingly hummed as you followed his lead, his hips rolling slightly in sync with your bobbing head. The salty taste of him filled your mouth, and the intimate sight of you serving him served to heighten his arousal.

Despite the urgency building in his core, John forced himself to remain patient and controlled, taking shallow breaths to maintain composure. His heart rate sped up, each pulse echoing in his ears as he watched your lips slide up and down his length, reddened by your efforts. He tightened his abs, fighting the instinctual need to thrust deeper and take control, reminding himself to let you set the pace.

"Just like that," he encouraged, his voice strained yet steady. His hand continued its gentle massage of your scalp, his fingers tangling in your hair as you worked diligently on his cock. His breathing grew heavier, matching the tempo of your movements. He leaned back against the wall, allowing himself to fully enjoy the sensation of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him.

His eyes never left your face, watching your expression morph from determination to pleasure and back again. The sounds of your muffled moans filled the room, causing his arousal to spike further.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked gruffly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His grip on your head tightened ever so slightly, urging you to take him deeper. The muscles in his thighs twitched as he fought the urge to buck his hips forward, wanting to savor the sensation of you pleasuring him without overwhelming you. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort of maintaining control.

"You're doing so well," he praised, his voice laced with raw emotion. "Fuck," John muttered, his eyes momentarily closing as he fought against the pleasure building inside him. The wet, warm sensation of your mouth was almost too much to handle, but he couldn't deny how incredible it felt to have you willingly submit to him in this way.

His breath hitched as you took him deeper than before, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each determined stroke. The combination of your saliva and his precum made for an erotic slickness that only heightened the experience. He opened his eyes, meeting your watery gaze, and gave a curt nod of approval.

"That's right," he growled softly, "take it all." He could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, a familiar warmth spreading throughout his body as he neared climax. His grip on your head became firmer, his fingers massaging your scalp more urgently.

Price's hips started to move in shallow thrusts, guiding your head as you continued to suck him off. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken such good care of him, which made him feel humbled and empowered. With each stroke, his movements grew more insistent, his breathing becoming ragged.

He called your name, his voice straining with restraint, "I'm getting close." He wanted you to be prepared for his release, to know that you had brought him to the edge and pushed him over.

His entire body tensed, muscles coiled like a spring about to snap, as he tried to hold off just a little longer to draw out the exquisite sensations. But it was no use; the dam broke, and with a final, guttural groan, he came hard in your mouth, filling it with hot, thick ropes of semen. John watched your reaction closely, seeing the slight surprise in your eyes before they fluttered closed, and you swallowed every drop, milking him for all he was worth.

As his orgasm subsided, he released his grip on your head, allowing you to pull back slowly, gasping for air as you did so. He smiled. Once you finished, John Price's chest rapidly rose and fell as he regained his breath, his eyes still locked onto yours. He cupped your cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb before pulling you up to stand before him.

He took a deep breath, savoring the aftermath of pleasure that still coursed through his veins. His gaze softened as he looked at you, thumb lingering on your cheek before he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your lips. "Thank you," he murmured with genuine gratitude in his voice.

The moment's intensity lingered in the air, and he could see the lingering mix of emotions on your face. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest as he held you in a protective embrace.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, kissing the corner of your mouth, his lips stretching into a grin as you turned your head to capture them in yours. “Should I return the favor?”

main masterlist, rules

141 + König teaching Medic!Reader to spar

—————

141 + König & Reader

Short Drabble

Price decides that you need to learn how to spar. He doesn’t really explain it, but you go alone with it anyway.

It would be inaccurate to say you weren’t surprised when Price called you into the gym in the middle of the day. You were in the midst of getting as much paper work out of the way as you could before you took your lunch break when you got the call.

“Head down to the gym, need your help with something.” Was all you got from him before he hung up. You were expecting to have to supervise a particularly rough sparring session.

Once you’re in the gym, Price calls you over to stand in front of him. “I’ve never seen you in combat, so I want to know what you can do.” Lucky for you, you were already dressed in some workout appropriate clothes.

“Don’t worry. You’ll have a good teacher.” He says, gesturing to…

———Simon “Ghost” Riley———

Isn’t going to go easy on you and treats you like any other rookie in need of training

Doesn’t train like he would with Soap or Price, makes sure to treat you like you have no experience in fighting

Doesn’t spend time letting you get any “free hits” in, not a hardass but definitely not just gonna “let you win”

Believes in the “people out there won’t be nice to you, so it’s best you learn now with people who will be”

Ultimately just wants to see you learn and be safe

Ghost steps onto the mat in front of you, practically staring you down through the holes in the fabric mask he wears around base. His gaze is cold and calculated, already analysing you as you step on in front of him.

He drops into a low stance, feet spread slightly, looking relaxed. His hands come up to shield his torso and face, balled into loose fists, hovering still in the air.

You barely have the chance to try and mimic him before he’s stepping in and throwing you to the ground. It’s a clean and controlled takedown, nearly landing you on your front. You would’ve been winded were if not for Ghost’s hand balled up in the fabric of your shirt, holding you up.

The moment doesn’t last long at all, as he elects to drop you onto the ground. You manage to catch yourself on your forearms before rolling onto your back and staring up at him. He holds a hand out to you, eyes crinkling slightly with a smile.

“Get up, you’re not gonna learn anything on the floor.”

——John “Soap” MacTavish——

Mostly fun and games, even during this

He doesn’t feel the need to be absolutely serious, but will still point out areas where he feels you need to pay attention

Knows this is likely your first time ever fighting, so takes it easy - but not too easy

Kind of forgets you aren’t a solider at one point and gets a little too harsh with his hits - he feels so bad

Enjoys helping you learn

Soap is bouncing on the balls of his feet as you try and ready yourself. You haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re supposed to be doing with your hands or feet. Luckily, Soap is here to guide you!

“Hands up, protect your organs and your head - they’re important, ‘specially for someone that has to think all the time, like you,” he chuckles lightly, bringing his head up slightly, looking directly into your eyes.

His eyes sparkle with mischief as you follow his instructions. You find your body sinking slightly, easing into a lower stance that makes your thighs burn after a few minutes.

“I’m going to punch you - slowly - and I want you to try and block it.”

He does as he says and you do your pathetic and best attempt to block it. That attempt being you brining your hands up to shield your head and scrunching up your face.

“I think we’ve got a lot to learn.”

Despite his chaotic nature, he makes a surprisingly good teacher.

———Captain John Price———

Feels responsible to do this, seeing as he’s the one who called you down here

Very slow in his movements - a combination of him being a patient man and knowing you have little to no experience

Much like Soap, he tries to keep it more lighthearted so you don’t feel under pressure

Spends a lot of time correcting you, moving to grab your arms and tug them into place or kicking/tapping your ankles to get you to move your feet

Price doesn’t bother trying to fight you, instead opting to stand with his arms crossed across his chest before you. He looks at you with a look somewhere between disappointment and analysis - you can’t really tell. Something about him does, however, says ‘deep in thought’.

“Hands up, legs apart, relax your knees,” he speaks while moving to stand behind you, placing his hands in your upper arms. You quickly realise he’s doing this to support you as he gently kicks at your ankles. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s just hard enough that it causes your legs to shift and you to sink your stance.

“There. Much better,” he mutters, moving round to the front of you and taking your wrists in his hands. “A low stance means a low center of gravity. A low center of gravity if good for balance. Better balance, less likely you are to be knocked over. I’m sure you can infer why that’s a good thing.” He speaks as he moves your hands, placing your hands about half a foot in front of you.

“Keep your guard up. You got one head, if the enemy gets it, you’re gone. Don’t give them the chance.”

He stands in front of you, out of reach of any misplaced punch or pathetic kick you might try and throw.

“You learn quick enough, I’m sure this’ll go smoothly.”

———————König———————

He’s well aware of both his strength and size and is incredibly nervous to try this - especially when he thinks about the fact that you haven’t been trained to fight

König wants to do right by you, he really does, but his nerves get the best of him sometimes

He’s very hesitant to touch you, so ends up taking a very hands off approach to teach you instead, opting to stand next to you and have you copy him instead

König is fidgety as he moves to stand next to you, holding his hands up with his left hand in front. He waits, unmoving for a second, before looking down towards you.

“Could you copy me please?” He speaks, voice seeming to crawl out of his throat at the same speed that honey drips off a spoon.

You do as you’re told, trying your best to copy his stance. It takes a few minutes for you to get it right, not including you making tiny little adjustments to your position to try and be as accurate to your teacher as possible.

König can’t help but chuckle a little at your actions. He makes a small comment, asking you to raise your front fist up slightly.

“Put your non-dominant hand forwards, so when you punch, you can punch with your dominant hand.”

You do as told, holding your non-dominant hand further in front of you than your dominant one. This prompts another laugh from him.

“You need to also put the same leg forwards. Left hand forwards,” He pauses for a second, taking care to gesture to his left hand. “Left leg forwards.” He does the same thing, this time gesturing to his leg, planted sturdy in the ground, providing a solid support.

“You have to do the same,” he speaks with a hint of a smile but with nervousness dripping off of every syllable.

“Don’t worry, it gets easier with time.” He reassures you, and you’re almost certain you see his eyes crinkle in a smile.

141 + König w/ a reader who’s just had a long day

—————

141 + König & reader

Short Drabble

You’ve had a long day on base, boring and packed full of things you didn’t want to do. Now you just need to rest.

By the time you finally find yourself making dinner the sun has set, leaving the only light to be provided by the LED bulbs of the communal kitchen. It’s a miserable feeling, everything is so quiet and still. Nothing feels like it should, especially with the fact that all of the boys have retreated to their rooms, leaving you alone to sort yourself out.

You give up on whatever pathetic attempt at “dinner” you’re trying, opting instead to slouch back into a chair slightly pulled out from the table. Despite the fact that sleep is tugging desperately on your weary mind, you can’t find the energy to stand up and go to bed.

What does get you moving, however, is the idea of being able to see your favourite person on base. The thought alone gets you to your feet, trudging slowly towards his room, avoiding the temptation to just lay down on the carpet of the hallway and fall asleep.

———-Captain John Price-———

You don’t bother knocking on his door, instead just twisting the handle and pushing the door open

He’s sat up in bed, book in hand and glasses resting on his nose, bathed in the warm light of his bedside lamp

Price doesn’t bother to look up, only murmuring: “Close the door behind you”

You pad into the room, sliding the door shut behind you and letting it click shut. He doesn’t look up at you at all, eyes fixated on the book he’s holding up. You can’t help but watch him read, seeing his eyes flirt surprisingly fast across the page as you round the other side of the bed.

Soft, warm cotton greets your skin as you pull the sheets back. The mattress sinks under you as you gently climb into bed, still wearing your daytime clothes. This seems to get Price to react, as he turns his head to look at you over the top of his glasses.

“Take off the jeans, you’re not wearing those to bed.”

It’s a simple request, but still hard to do with your complete lack of energy. You do manage to strip the jeans off, electing to kick your socks off along with them. After a few seconds of deliberation, you slip off any other even mildly uncomfortable clothing garment and then climb back into his bed.

He doesn’t stop you this time, instead lifting up the arm closest to you. It’s in invitation, one you gladly take, to slide in and lay your head gently on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, feel him breath, and it’s practically already lulling you to sleep.

“Long day?” He mumbles, turning the page of his book.

You don’t bother answering properly, letting out a small sound and nodding your head instead.

“We best sleep then.” This time he closes his book as he speaks, placing it on the night stand along with his glasses. He shuffles down the mattress, letting you get comfy with your head on his chest before turning the light off.

———Simon “Ghost” Riley———

You don’t even get the chance to knock on the door before he’s opening it, dressed in plaid pyjama pants and a slightly baggy grey shirt

He still has a balaclava on, one with a big hole over his eyes, allowing you to see the concerned look he’s giving your puffy, tired, red eyes

He ushers you into his room, giving you the command to “get into something comfortable” before slipping out of the room and walking off

Simon comes back not too long after he left, having given you a chance to get changed into a pair of his pyjama shorts and a hoodie. It’s warm and smells both of him and of laundry detergent.

When he comes back, he has a plate in one hand a a plastic water bottle tucked under his arm. Half of an apple - cut into slices - and a piece of buttered toast are on the plate.

“You need to eat,” he grumbles, pushing the door shut and twisting the knob as it slips into place.

He guides you to sit on his bed, holding the plate in front of you, prompting you to take it. Once you do, he does the same with the bottle - after cracking the seal for you.

You take a bite of the toast, realising he’s put honey on it. Not too much, but just enough for it to taste sweet.

Ghost sits next to you as you eat, hand on your knee, thumb swiping back and forth across your skin. It’s an action that has you leaning into him by the time you’ve finished eating. He takes the plate from you, prompting you to have a drink before placing the bottle on the floor next to the plate.

“You look like you need sleep,” he whispers, guiding you to lay in his bed, facing the wall.

It’s not long before he’s slipping in behind you, having put on some rain noises to play in the background. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Ghost pulls your back to his chest a bf tucks your head under his chin.

——-John “Soap” MacTavish-——

You have to knock a few times before he answers, having been dead asleep

Both his eyes and his posture are droopy, showing you just how hard he’s finding it to drag himself out of bed for you

It doesn’t stop him from smiling when he sees you though, or from pulling you into his room and kicking the door shut as gently as he can

Soap doesn’t say much if anything as he drags you over to his bed in the near total darkness of his room. He guides you to the bed, helping you shuffle into it just before he does.

You don’t mind the lack of words or light, actually finding it quite nice on your tired senses. It gives you a break after the day you’ve had.

Soap pulls you against his chest, practically laying you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. It’s still for a moment emigre he pulls you up slightly, just enough to start placing kisses against the top of your head.

He keeps doing this, placing soft, rhythmic kisses into your hair. One hand comes to rest on the small of your back while the other moves up to mess with your hair. Specifically, the fuzz at the nape of your neck. He teases it slightly, tugging as gently as possible, rubbing it between his fingers.

You take a moment to intertwine your legs with his. He moves with you, only moving so as to prevent you from having to move him.

You stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in his arms, listening to his heartbeat and his breathing. It’s safe and warm, and you feel tired.

———————König———————

He opens the door after exactly one knock, almost like he’s waiting for you, to scared to tell you he knows you’re there before you tell him

He reaches out, scooping you up almost immediately and pushing the door shut, holding you against his big, warm body

No time is wanted before he’s speaking loving words into your ear, proving himself up against the headboard and wrapping a blanket around you

König holds you close as soon as he’s able to get his hands on you, bringing you up to wrap your legs round his waist. It’s slightly I comfortable with how big he is, but his warm hands on your thighs more than make up for it.

He slips into his bed, back pressed against the back board, pulling a pillow up behind him to his spine isn’t pressing directly into the wood.

“Oh Mein kleiner schatz, you look exhausted,” he mumbles, petting your hair and back as he wraps a blanket around you.

You can’t help but nozzle into his chest slightly, relishing in his warm hand messing with your hair. His other hand is drawing patterns into your skin over the denim of your jeans.

“How about we take these off and get you comfortable?” He whispers into your ear, hugging you close for a second before helping you stand up. He’s insistent in helping you change, only turning his back when you strip off your undergarments in a favour of one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.

As soon as you’re more comfortable, he’s pulling you back into the bed - back into his lap - to swaddle you in a blanket again. He’s pressing you against his chest as soon as possible, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“It’s ok, mein maus, you Can sleep now.” Is the last thing you hear before you fully relax into your giants chest.

Number 1 Supporter

Captain Price x reader

How Price would react to you “helping him out” while he’s trying to sort things out.

Price is trying to sort out the more clerical side of dealing with 141 when you walk in

He’s happy to see you and pricks up even more when he notices that you’re wearing a pair of shorts and his shirt

“Hey sweetheart, how’s it going?” He mumbles, kissing your neck and you slip into his lap, wrapping his arms around you

Really wishes he could just forget about all this and wrap you up in his arms, get comfy in his bed and fall asleep

It’s in this moment of him zoning out that you slip off his lap and slide under the desk, positioning yourself neatly between his legs

“What do you think you’re doing down there?” He asks, hand coming to rest on the side of your face. His thumb strokes small circles over your cheek while he looks at you with something akin to absolute adoration.

“Nothing Sir~” you’re running your hands up and down his inner thighs.

The second Price hears you address him as “Sir”, he knows he’s in for a good time - and possibly a long night. You only ever do that when you’re planning something.

He doesn’t get a chance to ask you what you’re scheming about before your hands are on his belt. The clinking sound of you pulling on the metal is quickly replaced by the sound of a zipper opening.

“I still have work to do sweetheart.” It’s a pathetic attempt at a protest that he really hopes you brush off. And you do, much to his delight.

“Don’t worry Sir, you won’t even notice I’m here~” your voice is sweet as honey as your palm comes to cup his clothed dick.

Price inhales sharply, relaxing slightly in his chair and feeling himself already growing hard. Your hand keeps moving, applying just enough pressure for him to get hard. It’s not long before you’re pulling his boxers down, freeing his cock from its constraints.

“This your plan all along?” His voice is gruff and breathy, eyes fixed on you while you lick your palm.

“Don’t you have work do be getting on with?” You completely ignore his question.

Wrapping your spit-lubed hand around his cock causes Price to lean back in his chair, head falling backwards so he can stare at the ceiling. It’s been far too long since you touched him.

Soft, small strokes drive him crazy, make him want to command more. But he doesn’t, something tells him that waiting will give him better results.

“I’m just here to give you some… support, while you work. So best get working,” you purr out, starting to stroke his aching cock harder and faster.

Groaning, Price rolls his chair forwards slowly, trapping you in the space under his desk. He leans forwards, looking at the laptop and trying his best to concentrate. But with your hand wrapped so perfectly around his cock, he’s finding it incredibly hard.

Concentrating becomes even harder when he feels your tongue press against the head of his cock. He can feel misled twitch against the warmth of your tongue. You let his tip sink into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it in delicate and precise movements.

After a few seconds, you begin to push your head further down. Price can’t stop himself from pressing his hips up at the sensation, seeking more and more from you. And you don’t stop him - you don’t even want to.

His hand tangles in your hair, work now completely forgotten. You don’t say anything, instead closing your eyes and relaxing your throat to pull as much of him in as possible. He hits the back of your throat and you hold back a gag, instead digging your fingertips into the fabric covering his thigh.

“Fuck sweetheart…” Price growls, holding your head in place for a second.

As soon as he lets you go, you pull off his cock, sucking in a deep breath of air. Price looks concerned but you brush it off, pushing your head all the way back down on his cock.

You bob your head rather quickly, hollowing your cheeks and gripping his thighs. His moans are muffled by the hand he’s pressed over his mouth. The muffled sounds of his pleasure upset you, you want to hear him properly - you want to hear every tiny sound he makes because of you.

In remedy to this, you begin to press your tongue against the underside of his cock. Long, languid movements that draw the most delicious moans out of your boyfriend and superior. They fill the air, piercing the barrier of his hand, filling your mind with the filthiest ideas of what you could do to hear these sounds again later.

“Sweetheart I’m-” he tries to speak, chocking on air as you push your head all the way down, taking him fully inside of you.

He starts to thrust into your mouth, desperate to keep rhythm with you. It’s a pitifully failed attempt caused by the way his hips stutter with every upwards thrust.

Very quickly, Price’s movements become sloppy and fast. Chasing an orgasm that you’re tempted to deny so you can hear the way he whines at the lost pleasure. You decide against it, instead putting in as much effort as you can to match his pace.

It doesn’t take long before Price finally cums, painting your throat white and filling your mouth with a bitter taste. You don’t bother trying to pull off while his hand is still tangled in your hair. Instead, you swallow around his cock, drinking down everything he’s given you.

After a few seconds, he lets you pull off and slides his chair out slightly. A small hand gesture has you climbing up and onto his lap again, straddling his hips. Neither of you bother to pull his boxers back up for the time being.

Price pulls you into a quick kiss, full of passion and love. He leans into your neck once the kiss is over, planting small, feather light kisses over your pulse point. His hands massage the flash of your thighs and hips.

“How about we head back to my room and I’ll return the favour sweetheart?~” His voice drips with passion and lust as he mumbles the question against your skin.

“Sounds amazing Sir~”

This is stunning- Oorah! Anyone get the Oorah reference~?

[takes place right after this]

you were going to combust. you can feel it.

the zip ties on your legs had been cut loose. but you came to realize that it was not for your benefit. your legs had been slung over a pair of broad shoulders, toes curling on his back. Gaz worked his mouth over you, his tongue stroking firmly through your soaked folds.

the other Sergeant, a Scottish man with a mohawk and the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen, fondled your breasts and whispered the dirtiest things to you, drawing you closer to your orgasm than ever before.

the largest man, the one wearing a skull mask, watched on while Price circled your no-good husband like a shark, looking for answers. "so who else knows about the safe house?"

"i didn't tell nobody!" came his irate voice as he struggled against his restraints. you hissed sharply when the heat slinks down to the base of your spine because of having your swollen clit sucked and swirled upon by a feverish mouth.

a long moan drawls out of you, your head tipping back. delirium is starting to take over your senses. it's been building and building and for a while, they've denied your body what it needs. but now— now you think you're careening right towards the edge.

and this time, they have no intention of stopping you from hurling over.

"Soap." Price calls out, not looking away from your husband.

the Sergeant pulled his mouth away from your breast while he still played with the other. you whimpered softly, legs jerking when Gaz's fingers grazed the deepest sensitive nerve he could find inside your throbbing cunt.

"dinnae think she'll last long, Captain." he sounds as wrecked as you feel. "her legs are tremblin'."

he wasn't lying. Gaz had his arms hooked around your thighs, to keep you still. you moaned helplessly as he swirled his tongue against your clit, the fire in your belly licking at your pelvis. you catch the fondness in his eyes when you looked down to watch him, to watch the way his tongue licked through your folds.

he was so good— so fucking good at what he does. you bet they all were in different ways. but Gaz is the first to have you like this, and that is something you'll hold dearly to your heart.

you think he knows it too. when they found out that you've never had your pussy eaten, not even by your sorry excuse of a husband, he was the first to volunteer. and he took the task very seriously.

Blair fumed in his chair, trying as best as he can to kick and scream, but to no avail. the chair only makes a loud sound when it scrapes against the floor, yet he does not get anywhere beyond that. "that is my wife, goddammit!"

"doesn't look like it from my perspective, mate." Ghost muses, tilting his head. you think he's smiling underneath that mask.

"last chance." Price leans to down to look at Blair. "who else knows?"

"i don't know!"

Price sighs and goes to stand behind the restrained man, gripping his hair tightly to make him look at you.

"when she comes in his mouth," he starts, eyes trailing to your dazed expression, to the your glazed eyes as he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "we're each going to take turns with her and we're going to make her forget that she's even married." Blair hissed, eyes widening when the grip in his hair grew tighter. "and we're going to make you watch every second of it."

"hell, that's if she'll even remember your name by the time we're done with her—" Ghost cuts off when you wail, your back arching off the chair while your toes curled deliciously.

you think your head blanked. dark spots clouded your vision as the ecstasy consumed you. Gaz held fast, groaning loudly into your cunt, keeping his thumb firm on your clit while you gushed eagerly in his mouth, prolonging your pleasure. you slumped over the chair, panting deeply, when the high slowly came to a stop.

"tha's a good fuckin' girl." Soap cheered with a wicked smile.

Price chuckled. "Soap, you're first. Gaz, you're next."

"no, don't you fucking touch her—"

you were delirious and dizzy when the zip ties on your arms got cut loose. for a moment, you felt weightless, a hand cradling your head when it lolled back until you were set down on a dark surface.

someone was touching your legs, spreading you open, fingers sinking into your pulsing cunt.

"Steamin' bloody jesus, Gaz." a voice groaned. "she's fucking soaked. what did ye do tae the poor lass?"

"just a little magic trick." a chuckle followed before you were yanked further on the edge of the hard surface.

it's a desk. you were lying on a desk. your husband's desk. your eyes fluttered open to find Soap's heated stare lingering on your breasts, his cock hard and a hand cupping its base as he glides it through your slick folds. your leg instinctively curled against his hip as he pushed inside, a weak mewl escaping you.

"fuck..." his head tilts back as he drawls before he immediately starts fucking you in earnest. you don't get a chance to breathe before the next orgasm starts building up in your veins.

he's rough with you, praising you for taking him so well. places a hand on your stomach before it trails to your breasts as his thrusts hammer against your throbbing walls with a glint in his eye. he plucks your nipples, painfully pulling them, grinning when you mewl and make weak attempts to shove at his hand.

you feel it coming all too fast, your breath seizing in your lungs as the pleasure overrides your system. he fucks you harder, a howl escaping his mouth when he cums inside you. he's so mean about it too, especially when he mocks your husband.

"she's so fucking tight when she cums." he pants, grinning. "bet ye've never felt tha', have ye?"

Gaz is a little softer with you. takes his time dragging his cock in and out of you, watching your expression twist to that of pleasure. but he's just as heinous to your spouse as Soap while moans spill out of your mouth.

"you've never made her sound like that, huh?" he scoffs, chuckling with a shake of his head. he wasn't referring to your moans, but the lewd squelches of your pussy as he jerks his hips. "some husband, you are. it's fucking pathetic."

you don't know why that made you clench tightly around him, but it takes him by surprise. "oh, you like it when we talk shit about him?"

and just like that, the small comment opens Pandora's box.

"such a good little wife you are, putting up with him." he says. "he doesn't deserve a sweet cunt like yours."

Ghost makes Blair listen to every one of those insults. how his cock was only ever good for nothing. wasted on a good pussy like yours.

"aww, gonna cry?" Gaz cooed mockingly when he saw Blair's cheeks flushed red from rage and his eyes were glazed with tears.

"what a muppet." Price muttered. "poor thing needed us to save her."

Gaz makes you sit up so he could still fuck you but pressed his lips your ear, whispering for only you to hear, "he doesn't deserve you, love."

that was what tipped you over.

your breath catches in your lungs as you hold onto him, his hips stuttering when your cunt squeezes him. he floods your pussy with a muffled groan against your shoulder. your heart ached when he lays you back down and slips out of you, pressing one last kiss on your lips and handing you over to the next man.

"oh, no, ye don't." you barely had the strength to shift your gaze to find Soap angling Blair's head towards you. "keep watching them do what ye couldn't do."

Ghost walks over to you, passing by Gaz, who pats his shoulder.

"go easy on her, Ghost." he says. "she's fragile."

"noted." the masked man replies before he reaches you.

you were a little scared when you noticed how broad he is up close. he slowly parts your legs, fingers dipping inside you for a moment, a small whimper leaving your throat.

"fuckin' hell." he drones hoarsely, eyes darkening at the cum dribbling out of you. "you boys did a number on 'er."

to your surprise, he flips you over and spreads your legs. he bends one of your knees on the table

"brace yourself, love." you barely had the time to hold onto the edge of the table. a squeak bursts out of you when you feel the tip slipping inside.

oh, he's big. you breathe through your nose, your forehead pressing against the table. he pushes in slowly, drawing a strained moan from you.

when he pulls back, you're allowed a moment of respite before his hips snap. a sharp cry is heard out of you as he settles inside your cunt, humming deeply as he relishes the feeling of you.

"taking me so well, love." he begins a low pace, letting you adjust to his size. his hand grips your neck and he pulls you close, your back to his chest, making sure your husband saw every detail. "did he fuck you like this, sweetheart?"

your spine prickles with heat as his thrusts continue to increase in speed. you moaned softly, his hand squeezing your neck while the other played with your breast.

you manage to shake your head, eyes rolling back as he flicked one nipple with his fingers. "no? well, that's a damn shame."

your eyes catch a glimpse of Gaz leaning back on the couch as his hand squeezes his cock while he watches. Soap palms his cock as he was standing behind Blair, whispering something in his ear that you couldn't quite catch. but the gleam in his eye when his gaze finds yours made you whimper.

you feel Ghost's lips at your ear. "if you were mine, i'd fuck you in every position ever known to man on ever piece of furniture in sight."

you whine at the idea. of being fucked like that. of being his. of being theirs.

it makes your cunt pulsate, makes you tremble in his grasp. "oh, fuck."

his hand slides down until— your eyes squeeze shut as a shaky moan leaves your parted mouth, "ah!"

the salacious noises are all you could hear besides his grunts in your ear. his fingers swirled around your clit until you squirmed and ached, clawing at the hand at your neck.

"cum on my cock, lovie." he urges softly. "make it yours."

you think you screamed when you plummeted to the abyss. you don't know. hard to hear above the ringing in your ears, but you felt it all. Ghost gently laid you down, your breasts mushed against the expensive wooden desk and turned your head just enough for Blair to take a good long look at your dazed expression.

all the while you felt Ghost's cock plunge in and out of you at a brutal pace, making you drool all over the table until his cum bursts deep inside your pussy. some part of you felt guilty for enjoying this. yet the other part enjoyed the way your husband's face crumpled at the sight of you.

not because you were being fucked by someone other than him. but because you liked knowing he was made aware of the fact that he couldn't fuck anyone to save his own life.

"saved the best for last." you heard Ghost's voice.

you panted softly as you waited. Ghost's cum leaked out of you, dripping on the desk. you didn't think you could take much more.

you thought Price was going to take you from behind like his Lieutenant did, but no. he gently flips you on your back, eyes immediately dipping to your messy cunt.

"pretty little thing, ain't she?" he muses.

"damn right, Captain." you heard Gaz's voice, his breaths a little unsteady from where he is. "feels like a fucking dream too."

"is that right?" a dark chuckle follows the rhetorical inquiry. he's then interrupted by faint struggling, eyes shifting to what you assume is your husband.

his screams are muffled this time. you crane your view just in time to see him getting smacked in the face by Soap.

"keep him quiet." Price commanded. "i want to enjoy this as much as you boys did."

your eyes widen when he lifts your leg and rests it on his shoulder, faint rustling sounds and a belt clinking. your eyes drop low to find the red tip smearing all over the mess the others left on your folds before he taps the head on your clit a few times.

your toes curled and your head softly falls back on the desk. he presses inside just a bit, causing you to wince, the stretch a little overwhelming already. "relax a bit for me, darlin'."

he pushes deeper, your hand presses against his stomach as you whined, "i can't—"

"yes, you can, love." he draws back, giving you a moment to breathe. "just one more, come on." your eyes peered open and you found his gaze. "one more and we'll have a nice bath drawn for you and then we'll put you to bed."

you don't know how you've lasted this long. you don't even know if you're still going to be alive by the time he's done with you.

he held your gaze as he dragged his cock inside, prompting a lewd moan from you. one snap of his hips and you were already clenching down on him.

"fuck, gonna cum f'me already, love?" he hums before throwing your other leg over his shoulder and bends you in half. "we're just getting started."

a broken sound comes out of you when he really starts to fuck you like he means it. the position allowed him to sink in so deep in the way that's going to haunt you for weeks.

he rocked his hips, each thrust had you gasping for air and clawing at his arms, stroking your sensitive walls like he wanted to carve himself into you forever. your weak cries didn't go unheard as you tried to shift away from the way his cock rammed into the deepest, most sensitive nerve.

"take it, darling." his hands grip your hips, his pace becoming more brutal, a white ring gathering at the hilt of him.

"please—" you mewled, but you don't know what for.

"take everything i give you. which is more than your husband ever did." he groaned when you tightened around him, reaching a hand between your bent legs to rub your clit.

heat flared all too rapidly and you felt like you imploded. your back arched as he pressed a firm hand on your stomach, groaning out loud as your pussy spasmed around his hard shaft. your mouth hung open but not a sound came out of you as his rapid thrusts dragged out your high.

you heard a hoarse shout and the sensation of his hot cum shooting into your pussy before you blacked out.

you woke up later on the softest bed in an unfamiliar room, wrapped in a fluffy pink gown. you smelled like shower gel and your skin didn't feel as sweaty and icky as you expected it to be. exhaustion had long settled into your bones, so you don't feel like getting out of bed.

someone opens the door and enters holding a tray filled with food. it's Gaz. he smiles as he puts down the tray on the dresser. "you must be hungry."

you think you might get used to this for a little while.

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