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kjmalfoy · 15 days

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Vanilla Bourbon• 18+ Content

Warnings- Alcohol Use, Foreplay, Nipple-Play, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Unprotected/Rough Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Praising, Choking, Authority Kink, Slight Cock-Warming, Dom/Sun Dynamic, Dumbification Kink, Very Slight Use of CNC, Pet Names (Babydoll, Doll, Dollface)

Summary- Two weeks after the office incident, James becomes very fond of you— making you his new personal assistant. After a long overdue meeting, James finally lets his desire win him over; nearly taking you on the countertops.

Pairings- MobBoss!Bucky x Assistant!Reader

Word Count- Roughly 4K

Authors Note- I SINCERELY apologize for the wait.. I must admit, I have lost my touch when it comes to writing smut :(( *insert tiny violin sounds*

My Masterlist <3

Part One- Filthy Criminal <3

Walking back into the estate you felt a rush of awkwardness consume your body, after just spending the last hour sandwiched between two buff men as James discussed business plans. The entire meeting, James would brush his foot along your legs; tossing you the occasionally flirtatious smirk.

Two weeks after the office incident, your body can still feel the sexual tension whenever James’ presence is in the room. Things have changed drastically since then, neither of you can go a day without touching each other. Whether it’s fucking you in his office, the empty parking garage after long meetings, or even the playful teasing during meetings.

James longed for you, more than he’d like to admit.

But for once, James had something slightly more sensual in mind. Opening the door for you, his eyes danced over your curves– those crystal blue eyes admiring the delicacy of your beauty, taking in every inch of your figure. “Hey, babydoll. Join me for a drink?” He offered, quickly catching your attention.

Looking over at James, you tilted your head slightly– giving him a questioning look. “Don’t you have paperwork to finish?” You held up the thick manila folder in your hand, waving it gently.

James chuckled, finding amusement in the serious expression plastered across your face. “Aw, come on. Boss’ orders, Doll.” He teased you, draping an arm around your shoulder as he guided you towards the bar.

You huffed in annoyance, glancing up at James. “Fine. One drink.” You spoke sternly.

Humming in victory, James nudged the door open with his foot; tangling his fingers around yours as the automatic lights flashed. Leading you towards the open bar, James stepped around the counter– looking down at you with a mischievous grin.

Without any warning, James latches his hands around your waist– hoisting your body onto the marble countertops. Hands still locked on the mid of your waist, he looked down at you; hungrily licking his lips. “My, my. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” James taunted you, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

Giggling girlishly, you swatted at James’ hands; prying yourself from his grip. “So, what about that drink you kindly offered?” You reminded, propping your arms behind your back– giving James a clear viewing.

James scoffed, rolling his tongue over the sharpness of his teeth. He didn’t move, keeping his body stiff and tense as he stared down at you; lust and desire glimmering through his thick eyelashes, his cheeky smile making you feel suffocated.

“Sure, Doll. What’s your drink?” He asked, turning his back and glancing at the dozens of bottles that populated the shelves.

You hummed silently, peering over the half-empty bottles James had on display. “Vanilla Bourbon, please.” You replied.

Nodding his head, James bent at his knees; reaching into one of the cabinets, pulling out the most expensive bottle he owned. Along with the bottle, he grabbed two empty glasses– balancing them between his fingers.

Watching James unscrew the bottle cap, he lifts the bottle to his lips– locking eyes with you as he poured a heavy sip of bourbon into his mouth, tiny droplets of alcohol trickling down the corners of his mouth. Using his thumbs, James wipes away the excess liquids– smudging them against your plush lips.

“Taste good?” He asked, smirking playfully as he watched your tongue roll across your lips.

You made a cringed face from the strength of the alcohol, the roof of your mouth burning from the strong flavoring. “Taste expensive.” You managed to mutter out as you wiped your lips clean.

James nodded at your response, slowly pouring the bourbon into the empty glasses– the chugging noise filling the atmosphere as the brown liquids clouded the clear cups. Grabbing both drinks, James nestled himself between your thighs and passed you the cup.

“Cheers to my best and prettiest assistant.” He toasted proudly, holding up the alcoholic drink– signaling for you to click glasses.

Chuckling at James’ flirtatious jokes, you reached for your glass– holding it up with pride. Clicking the edge of the glass against his, “Cheers to my favorite and most attractive boss.” You chimed playfully as you downed the glass of bourbon, taking it straight like a shot.

Gulping down his drink, James studies you– a dark, mysterious glimmer in the irises of his pupils. He sets the empty cup aside and places his palm around the stretch of your thigh. “You have a little something,” James mumbled, gently cupping your chin in his hand– using his thumbs to wipe the corner of your mouth, slowly tugging at your bottom lip.

A shocked expression washed over your face, all the blood and heat in your body was rushing to your face– you could feel your ears tingle as James’ eyes were fixated on your lips, just barely tapping his thumb against your pout. “Open up, Dollface.” He demanded with a sultry tone of voice, the name rolling off his tongue like velvet.

You gulped down, eyes widening slightly as you stared blankly at James. “Sorry, what?” You muttered out.

A lustful smirk cascades across his face, his eyes nearly sparking in joy at the innocence possessing your body. “Messy girls have to clean their messes, Doll.” He said, rubbing his thumb along your lips.

Shivering slightly, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. James hummed in satisfaction, eagerly pressing the pads of his thumbs against your warm tongue. Sealing your lips around his thumb, you hallowed out your cheeks– swirling your tongue around the thickness of his finger, enjoying the sensual taste of alcohol burning your taste buds.

James rolled his tongue over his teeth, blowing raspberries as he watched you suck on his thumb. Within seconds, James had both hands planted around your waist– hastily pulling you from the counter, and pinning you against the countertops.

Hunger sparkled in his eyes, a faint blush slightly smeared across his chiseled face. His face inched closer to your lips, “Go ahead, tell me what you want.” James whispered, almost acting as a demand.

“Kiss me.” You whispered, returning the same suggestive look with an alluring smirk on your rosy cheeks.

Releasing his grip around the stretch of your waist, James’ hands trickled up your figure; fingertips trailing along the fabric of your attire before stopping at the curve of your neck. “Aw, don't tell me that my pretty little doll forgot about her manners?” James taunted, as his calloused fingertips found themselves buried in your skin.

Whining softly, you looked up at James with a heavy pout on your lips; sweet puppy-dog eyes glossing over your face. “Please. Please, kiss me.” You pleaded with him, tilting your head in hopes of feeling your lips brush against his.

Hearing your desperate plea made James’ demeanor snap instantly, dominance flushed over his body; his grip around your throat only tightening as his lips collided with yours. The taste of his saliva was almost intoxicating, the leftover bourbon still smothered across his wet lips. Feeling your knees buckle, your hands eagerly scrambled across his chest; gripping the thin fabric of his shirt for stability.

Constricting his grasp around your throat, your movements were now stiffened– forcing your body to move along with his guidance. James kissed you slowly, almost tormenting you with the slowness of his movements, and the scarce touch of his hands. His fingers nimbly moved along your waist, curving as he reached the cup of your ass. “Fuck, Babydoll. You taste delicious.” He mumbled into the sloppy kiss.

Pushing your body into his chest, you could feel your body weaken as his hands roughly worked the flesh of your rear– skin nearly burning from the sensation of his fingertips gripping your asscheek. Your desperation was evident from the yearning claw marks you left scattered along his abdomen– your freshly done fingernails digging into his toned skin.

Reluctantly, James pulled away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connected to your lips. He wiped his thumb across your swollen lips, wiping away the drool that glossed over your pout. Without a signal, James roughly latched his fingers onto your cheeks– forcing you to pucker up while he stared down at you.

His unrelenting eyes bore into your soul, making your body drown with embarrassment. Squirming away from his gaze, you stared at the ground; your body oozing with submission and brattiness. James clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah, ah. Don’t look away from me. I want those pretty little eyes on me.” He said, giving a slight bob of the head.

A soft whimper slipped past your sweet lips, your eyes finally traveling to make contact with James. “Yes, sir.” You obeyed, those tender eyes glimmering in innocence as he smiled at you.

Tilting his head, he studied your expression– taking in the clear submission in your voice. “Countertop or bedroom, Doll?” He asked, speaking clearly as he watched your eyes widen, and lips start to quiver.

James’ question barely had the time to be processed in your mind, all you could do was blurt out the word “Bedroom.”

Nodding his head, James lifted you into his arms; letting you wrap your legs around his waist, being able to feel your thighs clench around him as he tucked his hands beneath your asscheeks. “Whatever you want, Dollface.” He spoke gently, walking away from the bar.

Your arms draped around his neck, nuzzling your face beneath his jawline; playfully kissing the sharp skin. “Mm, hurry up. I want to touch you already.” You mumbled, making the hairs on his neck standpoint.

Kicking the bedroom door open with his foot, James laughs at your eagerness. “So impatient, Doll. Only patient babydolls get rewards.” He cooed, placing you down on the mattress. James stood in front of you, those crystal blue eyes glimmering with desire.

He stared at you with devilish intent as those calloused hands moved up his chest. His thick fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, slowly revealing his abs. You followed after James, slowly pulling down the straps of your dress; revealing the apex of your cleavage. Your eyes never left his, watching intently as he pulled his shirt off his body— thirsting at the sight of his flexed abs.

James yanked the shirt from his arms, tossing it onto the ground. He pushed your shoulders back, forcing you to lay flat against his duvet. James crawled over the top of you, the thickness of his muscular thighs resting beside your own.

Grabbing a handful of your dress, James pulled it apart; ripping it directly down the middle. Your cheeks flushed as your body was now exposed to his eyes, nothing but your leopard-print panties covering your sex.

His tongue rolled over his lush lips, nose flaring sharply at the sight of your bare breast. “Such a beautiful thing, Babydoll.” James complimented sweetly, his hands kneading at your soft breast.

A sweet, delicate moan slipped through your lips; eyes nearly rolling back at James’ electrifying touch. Your chest heaved, breathing becoming shallow as his lips wrapped around your hardened nipple.

One hand threads at your waist, his thumb caressing the middle of your skin; feeling the goosebumps that tainted your body. James’ tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, making your chest buck further into his grip.

Latching your fingers onto his hair, gently tugging at the strands as James sucked on your supple skin, leaving fresh red marks along your sensitive breast. His lips left your nipple, letting his fingers pinch the abused bud— making your body squirm in pleasurable pain.

James looked up at you, smiling in delight as he watched your body react to his touch. “Does it feel good, Doll?” He taunted, now using both hands to abuse your nipples.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, frantically nodding as broken whimpers and whines continued to leave your mouth. “Ye-Yes!” You managed to choke out in between your gasps.

James hummed in response, burying his face in the crook of your neck; the alcohol-ridden breath trickling down your body. His lips brushed against your skin, the warmth of his mouth engulfing your body in flames.

Mouth wandering your neck, leaving playful nibbles and kisses along your sweet, sticky skin; just barely bruising the tender area. James steadily left a string of kisses down your neck, finally making contact with your collarbone; those playful nibbles became more aggressive. Your knuckles tightened around his hair, roughly pulling his face deeper into your body— desperately trying to feel more.

Eyes barely opened, you looked down at James; guiding him further down your body. James looked up at you with a taunting glimmer in his eyes, snickering at your desperation. “C’mon Babydoll, you know better. If you want something, I need you to use that pretty mouth of yours.” He instructed.

Licking your dried-out lips, you inhaled sharply; attempting to focus on his words. “Please, James. I need more, I want more.” You pleaded with him, feeling the heat steadily build up between your legs.

Earning a playful chuckle from James, he leaves a sloppy trail of kisses down to your belly button; his warm salvia making your skin shine under the dim lights. He hooked his thick fingers around the bed of your panties, glancing up at you with lustful eyes as he slowly tugged down the protective fabric.

You lifted your hips, helping James pull the printed fabric down your legs– watching him toss them aside. His hands immediately latched onto your thighs, spreading them apart– leaving your drenched pussy on full display. Laying flat on his stomach, James brought his face closer to your cunt– teasingly licking a wet stride against your folds.

Squirming in pleasure, your eyes glossed over as you inhaled deeply. James chuckled against your cunt, pushing your thighs against your chest; leaving you fully spread for his tongue. Slowly, his lips found themselves sucking on your clit; swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

He earned a sweet moan from you, the pleasure from his mouth making you squirt against his face– eagerly tugging at his hair, pulling him closer for more. “Oh, fuck. Mm, feels so good.” You moaned lazily between your heavy pleads and whimpers.

His eyes hooded, just barely looking up at you– a smug expression plastered across his wet face. “There ya go, Babydoll.” He mumbled against your sex. James focused on your clit, running his thick fingers along your sticky folds; smearing in your juices before pumping the pads of his fingers into your needy hole.

Another loud moan escapes your lips as you feel yourself being stretched out by his long; thick fingers. James mumbled in satisfaction, his raspy mumble sending vibrations throughout the entirety of your body. The sound of your juices filled the room, nearly overpowering your delicate moans as he finger-fucked you faster.

His tongue lapped at your clit, tracing circles around the overly sensitive bud; the feeling of his teeth grazing against the small bud made the muscles in your abdomen curl. Lazily, your mouth hung ajar; mind turning fuzzy from the overlapping pleasure as James toyed with your body.

Feeling the heavy knot in your core, the muscles in your legs started to spasm; hinting at your expected release. “Mm, fuck. Gonna cum!” You whined desperately, squeezing your thighs around his face; smothering him as he continued to work on your sex.

James hummed in disapproval, slyly using his arm to hook it around your thighs– prying your legs up again. “Keep 'em open, Doll.” He spoke in a low grumble, looking up at you with dangerous eyes.

Arching your back, that tight knot in your abdomen finally snapped– causing your entire body to tremble in ecstasy. Your toes curled up into the silk sheets, a thick orgasm washing over your body; spurs of incoherent moans loudly slipping from your tongue. James watched with a cocky grin, eyes focused on the way your hips bucked towards his face; only adding to the mess coating his scruffy beard.

As your body eased up, James slowly pulled his fingers from your spongy cunt– causing you to twitch from the lack of friction. He adjusted his body, leaning on his knees; keeping his eyes glued on your body. With a swift movement, he wiped his cum-coated fingers along your lips; “Be a doll, and clean your mess.” He spoke with a taunting tone; smirking smugly as you pried open your dried-out lips.

Wrapping your lips around his fingers, the taste of sweet release invaded your tongue; making you moan in response. Your lips tightened around his fingers, swirling your tongue over the pads of his fingertips; sucking off any flavor left of yourself. “There ya go, Babydoll.” James praised with a gravel tone.

James retracted his fingers from your mouth, smiling in satisfaction as they glistened with your saliva. He pulled himself to the edge of the bed, watching over you with a careful eye. His sticky fingers played with the diamond-studded belt buckle, “Would you like to go further?” He asked before taking off his belt.

Eagerly, you nodded your head; reaching for the loops of his jeans and pulling him closer. “Yes. Please, James.” You spoke sweetly, looking up at him with seductive eyes– not wanting to waste a single second.

Your eager response made him chuckle lowly, tossing his belt on the ground; tugging down his jeans and boxers. His hard cock sprung out of his underwear, the clear pre-cum dripping off the head of his cock. Using the pads of his fingertips, he smeared the pre-cum along his cock; gripping his shaft and palming himself. “Such an eager girl.” James licked his lips.

Your face flushes nervously as James climbs back into bed; he gives your thighs a gentle smack, signaling for you to spread them open again. He positions himself between you, grasping hold of your thigh and pressing it against your chest. Reaching for his cock, he slides it along your folds; smearing your juices on his sex before plunging it inside you.

The feeling of his cock stretching you out sends you into a state of euphoria; weak moans of pleasure dripping off your sinful tongue. Your fingernails entangle themselves with the sheets, gripping tightly as your walls clenched around him; trying to adjust to his girthy size. “Oh fuck, James.” You whined.

James groans in response, the feeling of your tight; warm walls wrapping around him made his entire world spin; drunk from the feeling of your soaping cunt. His fingers dig into the plush skin of your thigh, keeping your spread as he slowly starts thrusting; making sure to take his time with you, soaking up the sensation and memory of drilling into your pretty hole.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, nostrils flaring with sexual hunger. James picked up the pace of his thrust, hips slamming roughly against the skin of your thighs; a burning sensation invading you with ease, bruises forming on the depths of your skin. His gravelly groans filled the room, small whispers of broken praises just barely skipping through his teeth. “Oh, babydoll. You take it so good.” He said, just barely above a whisper.

Burying your head into the pillows, you screwed your eyes shut; trying your best to contain the overwhelming pleasure he was sending throughout your overused body. You were drowning in the sensation of his touch; completely engrossed and intoxicated with James. “P..Please, I need more.” You begged him, your voice dry and hoarse, but still enough to send him over the edge.

With a swift movement, James had both your legs on his shoulders, lifting your body slightly so he had access to all the right places. His cock bottomed out inside you, lazily thrusting along your sweet spot. Your body reacted like wildfire; thighs trembling against James’ chest, fingertips frantically searching for something to grip onto, and incoherent moans dripping off your lips.

James leaned over, your knees coming into contact with your chest; nearly restricting your breathing from the tight confinement of the position. His wet sloppy lips made contact with your cheek, placing soft kisses and nibbles all over your heated skin; feeling your scorching temperature against his pink lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His breath trickled down your cheek; still managing to give you goosebumps.

His praise lights electricity through your entire body; a chain reaction spreading throughout every limb, the joints in your ankles tightening as your toes curl. With scrambled movements, your hands latched onto his shoulders, digging your acrylic nails into his pale skin. “Fuck, s’ too much!” You brokenly whimpered, looking up at James with flared eyes.

He chuckled sinfully, his hand pushing itself between your thighs, searching for that sensitive bud. “Yeah? C’mon, Doll. I know you can take it.” James taunted you, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit; making a circular motion against your bud.

The thin acrylics of your nails pulled at James’ skin, deep and irritated scratch marks inflamed into his skin. You felt it; hell, you felt everything– too much of it. Your body was overstimulated, James’ pleasing movements made your mind just numb; everything was hazed– truly being fucked stupid as his cock drilled into your throbbing pussy.

As the pleasure consumes your being, causing your body to tighten once more; a thick orgasm rapidly builds in the pit of your abdomen. Arching your back, you pushed yourself against James; eyes flaring wildly as he continued to mercilessly toy with your sensitive clit. “God, fuck. I-I can't take it anymore.” You pleaded with a voice coated with desperation.

The pathetic pleas only made James pound into you harder, his thumb working faster against your clit; forcing you to release once more. “Aw, c’mon. Be a doll, cum for me one more time.” He grunted out, a sweet; yet devilish smirk dripping from his cheeks. “You can do it for me, Babydoll.” His expression was nothing but taunting and condescending.

James’ praise ignited your body, an overwhelming sense of fulfillment trickling through you; causing the dense knot in your abdomen to explode. His words had you completely enchanted; acting as a command as the intense orgasm wiped through you once more. With rolled-back eyes, you felt yourself shaking; desperately shaking as James continued to fuck you through the tormenting orgasm.

With a low, gravelly groan James watched in awe; admiring the post-orgasmic glow decorating your skin. “That’s my good doll. Just like that, Babydoll.” He cooed, guiding you through the thick pleasure he was sending through you. His harsh movements slowed down, pushing deep; sensual thrust into your weeping sex.

As your body calmed down, you laid limply against the mattress; fingernails barely having the strength to grip onto James any longer. Your throat was dried out and scratchy, overused from the high-pitched moans that slipped past the tip of your tongue. With lidded eyes, you stared up at James; his thick brown hair sticking the sweat beads on his forehead; his nostrils flaring as he chased his own satisfaction.

A heavy hand cupped your face, feeling the heat of your cheeks rush through his palm; “You’re doing so good for me, Doll.” He grunted out, the protective pad of his thumb playfully tugging at your swollen lips.

As you whined against his touch, James felt his own body go limp; a euphoric tremble at his knees. He felt his thigh tighten with cramps, his abs flexing at his long-awaited release slowly built up; causing the entirety of his body to tense with strained muscles. “Fuck, [Y/n]. You feel so fucking good.” He praised, those white teeth digging into the bottom of his lip.

James used the last bit of his strength, lazily bottoming out inside you; throwing his head back as your warm walls clenched around him. His cock twitched, balls pulsating as the warmth of your sex surrounded him; milking him for every drop. His warm; thick cum piled inside of you; stuffing completely with his seed. “God, Baby. Fuck, you’re amazing.” He groaned heavily, those icy eyes rolling back as you cock-warmed him.

The fuzzy feeling of his cock twitching made your head spin with sexual hunger, the sticky cum along the walls of your sex caused your pussy to throb needily. James reluctantly pulled his cock from your cunt, watching proudly as his white release dripped from your swollen lips.

Moaning weakly, his calloused fingers scooped up his cum, eagerly pumping it back inside your sticky hole. “Such a pretty little cumdoll.” He cocked an eyebrow, glaring at you with a condescending smirk.

thank you all for the patient wait! bucky barnes fics are back, and i hope you all missed them! please check out part one, and give my masterlist a look through! (all linked at the top of the post <3)

as always, reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated. BUT, please do not post or copy my work on any other social platform.

at this point, my request are currently closed as i’m working on a list of other fics for multiple different character.

#marvel fanfiction #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes smut #marvel fic #bucky smut #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #support your writers #bucky x reader

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kjmalfoy · 15 days

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Fatherly Love Pt2• 18+ Content

Warnings- Age Gap, Inflicted Self-Harm, Daddy Issues, Mention of Verbal and Physical Abuse, Description of Medical Attention, Mentions of Blood, Childhood Trauma, PTSD.

Summary- Waking up, the last thing you expected to see what John; and when you? You didn’t know how to react. Everything hurt, and ached at your heart. But, nonetheless; you let John tend your wounds.

Pairings- John!Price x F!Reader

Word Count- 2.1K

Author’s Note- I apologize this took FOREVER, college has ruined my passion to write; please forgive me my lovies:( also.. ending is so bad so yeah! SORRY ILY AND THE SUPPORT

My Masterlist <3

You woke up the next day, attempting to rub away the puffiness from your eyes– memories from yesterday already creeping in as you stared down at the tear-soaked pillow, damp spots still staining the pillowcases. You could feel your head throbbing, the pounding aches thumping in the middle of your skull, making your eyebrows crinkle from the pain.

The sound of glass shards cracking made your head twist, glancing over at the shattered mirror– you felt your breathing hitch, heavy but a short gust of air filling your lungs as you saw him. Price was bent at the knees, picking up the glass shards from the floor, and placing them in a small paper bag. Price noticed the large glass shard on the dresser, your dried blood still staining the tips of the transparent color.

“What did you do to yourself?” Price asked sternly, still holding the glass as he turned to face you. His eyes peered over at your body, immediately darting to the bloody shirt that was wrapped tightly around your palms.

Staring at Price with soulless eyes, you feel yourself being suffocated with your childhood's looming memories. The gut-wrenching feeling of Price’s actions from yesterday acting as a bar-wire around your neck. “Why are you here?” You sneered, pure and deadly poison smeared across your tongue.

Price sighed exaggeratedly, placing the piece of glass in the bag and the others he collected off the ground. He took careful steps towards you, noticing your quivers as he approached the bed. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you, Just let me take care of you, please?” He spoke sadly, a sympathetic tone just barely slipping through.

Snickering in disbelief, you sucked your teeth making the sound of blowing raspberries. You shook your head firmly, inching away from Price. “Oh, now you care?” You questioned his actions with a gravelly voice as you tried to fight back those memories of childhood, but failed miserably as Price’s facial expression dropped.

You could almost see your father’s disappointed eyes as you watched Price’s facial expression drop, the only movements were his slow blinks that shook away his teary eyes. His hands dropped to his sides, feeling like dead weight as he stood there, almost dazed by the sudden disgust in your voice.

The dead stare you gave Price made his guilt smother him, a giant bubble of regret popping over his head— leaving him suffocated with the agony of hurting the woman he truly loved the most. He choked down the dry lump in his throat, feeling the pain from holding back his tears as the lump moved down the pipes in his throat.

“[Y/n], please. Th-That never should have happened, I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, the usual harsh and intimidating tone completely wiped away— replaced with the sound of sympathy as he spoke to you. Price’s tears became more evident, his pupils now dilated as he watched you process his apology— but truly knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere, understanding how deeply he has hurt you.

You looked down at your hand, cringing at the bloody shirt. Slowly, you unwrapped your hand with caution; hissing in pain from the burning sensation of the cold air hitting the fresh cuts and puncture wounds on your palms. “Yeah, but it did. It happened and you didn’t bother with me until the next morning.” You muttered with a shaky voice, pulling yourself from the bed.

Walking into the bathroom, you stood there like a robot; both arms dangling freely at your sides as your swollen eyes peered into your reflection. You were expecting to see the same broken little girl from yesterday, but to your surprise; you saw the broken, traumatized adult you were. Standing there without a soul, emotionless eyes that your bloodshot sclera took control of, and the pain of a million punctures burning your palms.

Without realization, Price appeared behind you; his heavy hands softly finding their place around your waist. You shudder at his touch, the mix of fear and comfort making you dazed and confused. Not being able to peel your eyes away from your reflection, you glared at Price— finding uncomfortable warmth in the way his body towered over yours, and the way he rested his chin on the top of your skull.

You could hear Price’s deep breathing behind you, feeling it trickle down your neck; goosebumps raiding your body. His eyes cascaded over your body, watching how you shuddered and trembled in his presence. “Please, let me clean your wounds.” He pleaded, the shame and guilt so clearly visible— It almost made you rethink your emotions.

Turning around, you pressed your back against the sink and looked up at John— studying the softness in his eyes, and the tenderness of his touch. Your chest shuddered as you inhaled, gulping down the anger that bubbled inside you. “Fine, but, This isn’t me forgiving you.” You spoke firmly, letting Price gently reach for your punctured hands.

Price nodded thankfully, slowly and carefully reaching for your hands; holding them gently in his calloused palms. He held your hands up, shifting them cautiously as he examined the brutality of the punctures. Before you could realize it, John let go of your hands; softly placing his fingers underneath your chin— examining the soft bruises on your cheek.

“I did that... Didn’t I?” He spoke tenderly, almost like he was afraid to raise his voice. Price looked up at you, remorse swimming in his eyes; completely washed away from anger and resentment from last night.

Gulping down the dry lump in your throat, you glanced up at Price; nearly drowning in the remorse that clouded his eyes. Nodding slowly, you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing but a measly squeak came out. “Ye-Yea..” You muttered with an airy voice.

John stayed quiet, analyzing the bruises on your face for a few more seconds before taking your hands in his again. He looked around the bathroom and opened the mirror cabinet— grabbing the pair of blue tweezers. Lifting your hand closer to his eyes, he flashed you an apologetic look. “This might hurt a bit. I’m going to take out the remaining pieces of glass.” He informed you with a gentle voice.

You nodded your head, grimacing in discomfort as John started picking the small shards of glass out of your hand. Instinctively, your fingers danced toward Price’s forearm– gripping the long-sleeved shirt that protected his skin from your fingernails. With each pinch from the tweezers, you found yourself gripping harder– your knuckles almost turning white from the strength of your grasp.

Price didn’t seem to mind the aggressive latch you had on his skin, in fact– he didn’t even budge. He stood there like a stonewall, keeping his attention focused on your grated palms– taking each scratch and scrap of pain your nails could latch onto him. You could sense by the slight sneer on John’s face that he was hurting a bit– and you felt guilty. For some bizarre reason, you felt guilty for hurting him; hurting the same man that was the cause behind all of this. The man whose name was practically written on the glass shards being pulled from your hand.

Taking a quick glimpse at Price, you looked down at your hand; watching him intently as he worked on fixing your hand to his best abilities. Using your free hand, you wiped your palm across your mouth– slightly dragging your bottom lip down. “I’m sorry if I’m squeezing you too hard.” You muttered out, crinkling your nose in pain.

His eyes narrowed in cynicism, his medic-like movements stopped instantly. John’s lips scrunched together beneath his mustache, his doubtful eyes boring into you; trying to study the apologetic tone on your tongue. Price made a clicking sound with his tongue as he shook his head– “No. I don’t ever want to hear you apologize again.” He spoke firmly, placing the tweezers on the cabinet shelf.

The feeling of warmth invaded your body, John’s large palms gently cupping your tear-swollen cheeks. He bent his knees slightly, staring at you at an eye-to-eye level; resting his forehead against yours. “I should never hear another apology leave your mouth… Especially not after what I did.” He took a heavy breath, caressing your cheek gently– feeling your heated cheeks under the calloused pads of his thumb.

The two of you shared heavy; almost suffocating eye contact, penetrating each other’s soul with just a blink of an eye. You watched as Price’s eyes trickled down to your lips, watching as your bottom lip quivered anxiously from the proximity of his body. His fingers slowly slid down your face, tucking themselves underneath your chin— playfully tugging at your trembling lip.

John took a small breath of confidence, closing his eyes and dragging his lips across your cheek; tasting the bitter saltiness of your tears. “I will forever regret my actions.” He whispered, gently pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth; careful not to overstep your boundaries. “I love you so much, [Y/n].”

You stayed silent for a minute, frozen in shock and adrenaline as John taunted you with his soft kisses. Hands twitching, you reach for Price’s hand again; holding it tightly in your palm. Your heart was thumping, pounding heavily against your chest— making your head spin in emotional distress.

Tilting your face away, you stared at the ground in shame; bubbling with disgust from the soft kisses Price littered around your lips. “I-I’m sorry. I’m not ready to forgive you fully.” You babbled softly, feeling your teeth jitter with nerves.

John nodded, pulling his face away from you the moment you retracted your consent. His big eyes were solemn and dull, eyebrows furrowed together as he glanced away. “I’m going to clean out your other hand, okay?” He said, a hurt tone coating his tongue; but he remained respectful of your withdrawn consent.

You held your tongue, remaining silent as you watched John gently grasp your mangled hand. His adam’s apple twitched, swallowing thickly as he reached for the tweezers again. “This might hurt more. Your right hand is badly punctured.” Price mumbled.

His hands shook softly as they inched closer with the tweezers, barely grasping the largest shard that was slicing your hands. Price pulled out of the shard of glass, the clear material covered in the richness of your blood. “A few more pieces, then I’ll clean them out.” He whispered, looking grimly at all the dried blood.

Staying silent, the only response you gave John was a nod of your head. He worked carefully, grabbing the glass with gentle hands; slowly and cautiously removing the smaller shards. They looked like tiny diamonds and rubies coming out of your palm; still maintaining to glimmer under the dim lighting of the bathroom.

After removing the last few pieces, he tossed all the blood-stained glass away; the plastic trash bag became shredded as glass scratched at the bin. Shakily, you spun your hands around; looking in disgust at all the cuts and scratches that stained your delicate skin. “It’s worse than I thought.” You mumbled to yourself, glancing at Price as he grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and anti-infection cream.

John placed all his items on the counter, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for bandage wrapping. You watched him search carefully, grabbing a gauze pad and thick wrapping for your sliced palms. “This might sting a bit. Grab my arm, if it hurts too much.” He mumbled, watching you with a gentle eye as he grabbed the rubbing alcohol.

With a swift nod, you latched onto Price’s bicep; digging your fingertips into the fabric of his clothes. John reached for your wrist, holding it softly as he held your hands over the sink; unscrewing the cap of the alcohol in the process. He glanced at you, nodding his head stiffly; warning he was about to disinfect your wounds. As the alcohol touched your skin, you hissed loudly in pain; the burning sensation bubbling through your veins.

Squeezing onto John, he poured some of the alcohol onto your other hand; the burning tingle only growing more fierce. “It’s alright, love. Almost done.” He reassured with a tender voice; grabbing a rag and patting your palms dry.

As your hands trembled, John reached for the gauze pads; wiping an antibiotic cream on the material before laying it over the puncture wounds. “I’m going to take care of you, I promise.” He whispered, reaching for the bandage wraps; carefully concealing your raptured hands.

Pulling your hands towards his face; he gently kissed the top of your hands, his warm lips connecting to the skin of your knuckles. “I won’t hurt you again…’ He whispered, the trail of his kisses leading up your arm.

Your felt your body freeze again, the warm feeling of his lips made your skin crawl. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing; counting each and every heavy gust of air you took in. As if you were split in half, your body craved the affection and desire of his forgiveness; but, your other half absolutely despised his need for forgiveness.

Gently shoving his shoulder, your eyes opened; staring at him with dazed emotions. “It’ll take time, John… You promised you wouldn’t be like him.” You spoke unsurely.

John knew immediately, what “him” meant. It was your father; the man behind it all. He dreaded the fact that he was now connected to the same abuse your father put your through; but, he caused it. He blatantly let his anger control his own mind, and now he was facing the consequences.

Inhaling heavily, Price gave you a soft smile; respecting your wishes of withdrawn consent. He looked at you for a second, holding out his hand; slowly reaching for your cheek once more. His eyes focused on your bruised cheek; the fingerprint indents becoming more visible as time set in.

Tenderly brushing his thumb along your cheek, he felt your withering body against the pad of his thumb. “I understand, [Y/n]. Please, take all the time you need, love.” He spoke respectfully.

“Let’s get some ice for your cheek.”

thank you all for the very patient wait! I sincerely apologize if the ending seemed rushed (it was) as i said in the author’s note, i truly lost my passion for writing. i’m so mentally drained from college, but i will try my best to feed my lovies with new fics soon <3

as always reblogs, comments, and likes are ALWAYS appreciated. BUT, please DO NOT post or copy my work on any other social platform. 💗

TAG LIST: @theirkenfiles @fanficwriterlover @chubbysciencenerd @patyog @pan-with-a-pan @mysteriouslydeafeaningwerewolf

#captain john price #support your writers #cod mw2 #captain price fanfic #fanfic #john price #captain johnathan price #john price cod #captain price x you #mw2 captain price

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kjmalfoy · 1 month

Text

ex-tf141!mercenary!fem!reader x ex-husband!simon because there's nothing hotter than being covered in blood and debating whether or not to kill him or fuck him (18+) ⚠️🔞

cw: reader is curvy (deal with it), mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dramatization + graphic depictions of murder + violence, criticizes military service, blood kink, size kink (simon's huge ok), pet names (luv, sweetheart, baby, honey), mw3 spoilers, reader is unhinged and unapologetic about it, dark content ahead, unprotected piv, cumplay, (can this also be considered a throuple fic? maybe...)

this isn't her. he doesn't recognize her. she doesn't fight the way he remembers, she doesn't look like she used to.

she wears all black. the black cargo pants are tight around her perfect thighs, and the way they cinch around her waist makes his mouth water. her vest covers her torso, but he has vivid memories of ripping an identical one off of her, ripping the fabric of her shirt so he could bury his mouth between her tits.

when she used to be his. when she used to be a good girl.

he watches, frozen, as she shows off her newfound ruthlessness. she fires her weapon at one man's knees, bringing him to the ground. he feels sick when she kicks him onto his back, getting on top of him, and uses her tactical knife and shoves it into the softness of his neck. she leans over him, splatters of blood freckled across her face, and she watches the life leave his eyes.

she doesn't get up until he stops twitching.

he doesn't remember this. when she used to watch his six, he remembers having to hold her close at night, quieting her cries. he remembers the conversations they used to have, where she used to tell him that whenever she closes her eyes, she sees every person she ever killed.

the justification of murder behind the patches she wore on her vest had never been enough to quiet her nightmares. she was always so soft-hearted. she was always too good, too considerate, too kind. it was something her superiors always wanted to rip away from her; it was something simon fought hard to keep.

he had lost his humanity, but she had not, and he remembers smoothing his hand over her chest and across her heart, telling himself that he would never let it go, never let her lose it.

it is gone. he knows it--he knows it because she doesn't just kill her opponents, she tortures them. she aims for vulnerable places, and then she kills them angrily. she likes to hear them scream. she watches them cry. she wipes the blood of her enemies on her thigh, and then she gets up and does it all over again, in different ways, in heinous ways. she's terrifying, and she's laughing, and there is nothing behind those fucking eyes.

he holds her in his sight. he adjusts the scope, gripping the rifle tighter, and suddenly it feels too heavy in his hands. he can see her in it, and he watches in horror.

he knows his orders. permission to kill on sight, those are his orders--mercenaries had gotten the same intel as them, but they are not here to destroy the biochemical weapons. they are here to steal them.

he can kill her right now. he has her, right where he wants her, and even from this far away, he knows he won't miss.

when she's finally alone, she stands, and she looks up, turning in a slow circle. his heart squeezes--she knows he's here. she holds up a hand, four fingers held up. he reaches up to his radio and turns the knob to the right channel. it crackles, and then he hears her voice.

"hey, baby," you coo, and he sees you smile, and it's ugly, and he hates it. "you miss me that much that you gotta follow me around at work?"

"'f y'know wot's good for you, you'll pack up your shit and leave."

you tsk, spinning the knife around in your hand before sticking it back into your boot. you wipe the sweat from your forehead, and blood smears along your brow.

"awww, teddy bear, don't be that way," you pout. "how about you come down here?" you grin wide, turning just his way, giggling when you see him perched for overwatch. "hmm? you're just cranky, baby...need me to help you relax..."

"you're right fuckin' mad," he spits, and you reach down at the man beneath you, snatching his rifle off his back and making sure it's loaded. "and i'm gonna fuckin' kill you."

you wink up at him.

"yeah? so take the shot, honey," you challenge. the smirk that blooms on your face infuriates him. he hates you. but then you turn around and keep walking, knowing that he won't shoot, and his gaze follows the sway of your hips. instead of thinking about your brains splattered against gravel, he thinks about when he used to bend you over his bed in the barracks and eat your pussy from behind you--when he used to get on his knees and fuck you with his tongue and make you cum into his mouth.

when you disappear from his view, you laugh over comms. "you're pathetic, simon," your murmur. "could never trust you to get the fucking job done."

he remembers when you left. johnny had left a scar on you--an angry one, one that refused to heal. and while simon was equally as buried in his grief, he always felt just a little better when he was kissing you, holding you, feeling the warmth of you, knowing you were alive.

"you didn't love him. not like i did--" you snap, continuing to pack.

"are you fuckin' mad?! do y'hear yourself talk?! wot the fuck do you know about me and johnny?!"

"then how are you not angry?!" you scream. "how are still standing there, so fucking normal, how are you so fucking calm?!"

"sweetheart--"

"don't fucking touch me," you bite. "you don't get it--" angry tears flow easily down your face. "--you didn't love him the same."

"i did--" he grips your face, making you look at him. "i loved him like i love you, don't say that. don't fucking say that, don't you dare pretend you're the only one that feels anything--"

you rip his hands off of you, narrowing your eyes, and he does not recognize you. this is not you.

"y-you're a liar," you whisper. "you're a fucking liar. and you make me sick."

ghost steps over the bodies that you left behind. it is a massacre of men that you leave at your feet. slit throats, bullets in knees, in stomachs, little finishers you leave between their legs. you are not a fan of men--he knows this because of how hard it had been to get close to you. how difficult it had been to even so much as touch your arm, your face--to get you into his bed, to marry you in secret and fuck you spineless. the only easy thing that had ever happened to you was the way johnny fell right into step with you.

and the hardest thing that he had ever done was fucking die.

when he finds the trunk of biochemical vials, you are not there. he has found it first, and he bends down to inspect them, closing the lid and securing them inside before moving his hand up to press on the button of his comms to alert his team.

"uh uh uh," a low voice warns. "take your hand off the radio, sweetheart."

he moves, but the bloodied tip of a tactical knife is sharp against his throat, and he swallows hard. he calls your name, and you just giggle. this is a game to you. he lowers his hand, and you reach down, grabbing his rifle and tossing it. you also unholstered his handgun and the throwing knives from his boot, throwing them behind you.

"mmm..." you smooth a hand down his back. "you're as hot as the day i met you, baby..."

ghost grunts as you grip one side of his ass, and you grip his shoulder tight, kicking him just right so he was kneeling on both knees now. you lean over him and plant a warm, wet kiss to the jaw of his mask, moving so you were standing in front of him now. you kick the trunk of vials to the side, looking down at him, digging the sharp edge of the blade harder against his neck.

"look at you..." you hum, licking your bottom lip. "you're still so big, teddy bear..." he hisses when you lean over, cupping him through his pants. your warm hand squeeze the length of him, and you whine when you feel how hard he is, how much he still feels for you. he glares at you under that plastic, terrifying mask, but your panties are soaking. "so fucking hard for me, too...you miss me, baby?"

he leans over, into the blade, growling.

"'f you leave now, you can still take your life with ya."

you pucker your lips, and he snarls. your face is not one he knows--you have drying blood along your cheeks, smears of it along the softness of your neck. you have blood and dirt under your fingernails, and there is fire in your eyes, and you are not the good girl he fell in love with, but you look like her, and it scares him.

"awww, baby, if i thought you would kill me, you would be dead--" you lean forward and lick along his hard jaw, tasting the salt and sweat of his mask. "...right along your other boys. don't lie to me. it's not a good look for you."

he bites, and you laugh, and then you nod your head.

"sit down," you demand, and he sits. he is big, and his gear is heavy, and he sits with a grunt, and you climb over him, into his lap. you reach down, your eyes on his, and you unzip his cargo pants, your hand slipping under and pulling his cock out, and you smile when it stands hard and heavy. "oh, baby...you want this, don't you?"

you lean in, kissing him through the mask, sucking along the fabric and whining.

"you want this, don't you? you still want me? you still love me?"

"fuckin' hell--"

"you wanna fuck me, teddy bear?" you spit into the palm of your hand, reaching down and smoothing your wet hand over the red tip of him. "you're so big...as big as i remember..." you whimper. "say you wanna fuck me, simon--" fuck, you're using his name, "--say you want me."

against your lips, you feel him whisper yes--fuck--yes, luv--and you can't help it. you can't help yourself.

he's so warm and big. you hold onto his shoulders, still gripping the bloody knife, and you sink down on him. it's easy though, because you're soaking, and even though you're so fucking tight, you suck him in, right until your clit is grinding against the little hairs at the base of his cock and you're bouncing in his lap.

simon is weak. he's weak, and he knows it, because he loves you, and your pussy is so tight, and your moans are music, and fucking you is the only thing he truly understands, the only thing that still makes sense.

you smooth your hands along the back of his neck, and when you whimper and moan, simon thinks he sees you. his good girl, his pretty little wife, the soft girl that he loves, the one crying as she rides his cock because he's hitting all the gooey, pretty places inside of her that make her so fucking wet. he grips your ass tight, guiding you up and down, fucking up into you as he feels his stomach turn and his balls tighten.

"simon--" you cry, and he nods his head, cradling you to his chest, his head tilted back as he looks up at you. there is blood on your skin and a knife digging into his back, but you're saying his name, and his heart aches, and your pussy is so good-- "gonna come--gonna come--"

"yeah--" he growls, and you push up his mask, lick into his mouth, kiss him sloppy and hard and desperate. "fuck--fuck, yeah--"

he takes off his glove to touch you, two big fingers on your clit as you fuck him desperately. when you come, you soak his cock, and when you tighten, he comes, too, rolling his hips as he spills out of your tight hole and onto your thighs, onto his.

it feels so good. it feels so good to be full of him, to feel him deep, and you smooth your hands down your stomach, feeling him there, stretching you so wide with his come on your thighs, and when he pulls out, you giggle when he gathers the slick onto his fingers and feeds it to you.

you suck his fingers, tasting him, and you whine, looking right into his dark eyes. your heart hurts for a moment--but only a moment. when he pulls his fingers from your mouth, your eyes flicker.

because he still wears his fucking wedding ring.

at the sight of it, you grip your knife tight, and you sink it right into his stomach.

he is laying there in a pool of blood when you're dressed, when the trunk of vials is secure for you to take. you lean over him, pressing on the button of his radio, and you call for medevac to his team, and then you rip the radio in two.

you cup his cheeks, kissing him softly over the mask, and you smooth a finger down his cheek.

"don't pull the knife out, baby, or you'll bleed out," you coo. you tilt your head to the side, knowing you only have a few second window to leave, and you smile down at him.

"until next time, simon."

when you go, you take a piece of him with you.

and fuck--fuck you. because he wants it back.

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kjmalfoy · 3 months

Text

saving for later ;3

FaceTime (Price/Reader)

Warning: video/phone sex

It was around lunchtime when you usually heard from John. His deployment was stationed in some Eastern European locale, and over there, it would be late at night. He usually texted you throughout the day, and you’d wake up to his updates, but it had been radio silence for at least twenty-four hours and you were nervous.

You tried to stay busy, keeping yourself calm by talking to your friends and calling your mom, but the house was so empty without him. Sometimes you stole a cigar just to smell his smoke in the house again, lighting it on a plate like incense. He’d be cross if he found out, but you knew he’d forgive you.

You logged out of your work email and undressed to hop in the shower. Then, just as you were about to step in, you heard your phone buzz. Abandoning the running shower, you lunged for your phone, turning it over to see John’s profile photo on the screen, smiling at you.

“John?” You panted, fear crawling up your throat.

“Hey, love,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. He sounded exhausted.

“Thank God. I was worried sick. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sounded like he wanted to say no, “Everything’s fine.”

That was his code for ‘don’t ask.’ It made you even more concerned, but you kept that to yourself, not wanting to add to his mental stress.

“I miss you, John,” you sighed.

Then, he was video calling you. You were naked, but he was careful. He would never call you in front of anyone. You swiped up to answer it.

He seemed surprised to see your bare collarbones. He was shirtless, too. Ready for bed, alone in his bunk.

“Oh, hey,” he smiled, “Look at you, pretty thing.”

You blushed,

“Right back at you, handsome.”

He grinned, rubbing his big hand across his chest. You loved it when he did that. There was something so hot about his fingers petting through his thick chest hair, flashing over his pink nipples, warming his tired muscles, rippling and rising with his breaths.

“Mm, careful, love. I’m already missin’ ya. Start praising me and I’m gonna grab you through this phone,” he joked with you, playfully threatening, flirting through his tiredness.

“Wish you would, John,” you moaned, testing his limits. If you were lucky, maybe he would take the bait.

You heard the fabric of his sweatpants rustle, and when he repositioned the phone, you saw his pink cock being dragged out, heavy and hardening under its commander’s grasp. You moaned again, more enthusiastically this time,

“Oh, fuck. I miss that cock,” you propped your phone up on the sink, leaning it against a bottle of soap and the tap.

You saw your body on the screen, tossing your towel on the counter to show him your entire naked form. Your hands found your breasts, pulling at your nipples, squeezing the flesh for him and for you, feeling better by the second. Your hands were no match for his hands, but it would have to pass.

“This cock misses you, baby. Why don’t you touch that soft little cunt for me, hm?”

You do as he says, eagerly sinking your fingers into yourself to obey him, sending waves of pleasure through your core as you do. You’re not ready yet, and you work yourself slowly as you watch his giant hand pump his fat shaft faster and faster in the darkness of his bunk.

“I can’t wait for you to come home, John. I need to taste you again. I want you to put so much come in me that I feel full from it.”

“You like how I taste, love?” His voice was strained. He was concentrating on watching you fuck yourself on your hand.

“I love it,” you confessed honestly, “You want me to show you how much?”

You didn’t wait for him to reply. You gathered your wetness on your fingers and showed it to him, making sticky strings of your own come drip between your fingers. He groaned, and then he gasped when he watched you lick them clean.

“Fuck, do that again.”

You dipped your fingers into yourself, coating them with your own fluids and bent down closer to the camera so he could see the gleam of your juices as your fingers slid into your waiting mouth. You used your tongue to show him how clean they were.

He groaned loudly, a familiar sound, and you saw white streams of come burst from his rosy tip, melting down his shaft like a tall candle.

“Bloody hell, I needed that.”

You smiled, making a mental note to charge your vibrator before you get in the shower. You needed to let off the insane tension he had just built up inside of you.

You blew him a kiss and he caught it with his free hand,

“Me, too. Call me tomorrow?”

“No need. Tomorrow, you’re gonna get the real thing.”

#cod mw2 #captain john price #call of duty fanfic #cod #john price #captain price #support your creators #support your writers

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kjmalfoy · 4 months

Note

something about pervy konig makes me PURR.

konig and the reader are roommates; best friends with a slight attraction to each other. reader decides to go out clubbing with some girlfriends, showing off her tight dress to konig before leaving— which ultimately arouses him hardly ;))

konig let’s his dick get the best of him and goes through the readers pantie drawer (#pantiekink) and goes back to his room, jerking himself off to the reader’s panties.. and boom reader comes back early and catches him.

(show your post about writers block, though you could execute this idea perfectly)

So sorry this took so long to write. This ask was sent back in November. I got a little carried away while writing this. Love this prompt so much! Thank you for sending it in and hope you enjoy :) (not proofread)

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After a long week of writing essays, listening while your professors drone on and on and spending every waking second studying or working your part time job. Simply to say you were beat and exhausted. Wanting nothing more than to stay in, catch up on some z's and possible a few episodes of your new favourite show.

But atlas you received a last minute text from your BFF.

I'm picking you up at 8, better look cute.

Throwing yourself back on your bed, letting out a loud huff. Knowing damn well you won't be able to say no to her. A soft knock against the frame of the door brought your attention back to reality.

He was tall, brooding and all to yummy, as your friends say. Your roommate König stood in the doorway, taking up all the space. His head reaching right to the top of the frame.

"Hey, didn't here you come in." you said sitting up. You kicked your shoes off and began typing back your response.

"Got plans?" he inquired. Leaning into the frame, crossing his over his chest. Making every muscle tighten and bulge just how you like it.

"Hmm, Kate's dragging me to some bar most likely." you replied to him. "I better get ready now, knowing her she'll show up early." it wasn't a surprise that your friend group loved to show up at your place. They all loved to sit around and ogle your roommate.

After answering an ad in the university student paper, you found yourself being shown around a decently sized 2 bedroom apartment only a block away from campus. It was too good to be true and too good to pass up. The landlord explaining that the first room was already rented out. You didn't mind sharing with a male, he seemed more than tidy. And you needed away from the awful university dorm rooms.

First meeting König, that was one for the books. After hauling your belongings up the 3 flights of stairs. Of course the elevator would break the day your were moving in. Struggling to get the key in the door, only to be greeted by a 6'7 and 270 lbs man standing bare cheated in the kitchen. You damn nearly fell over. Needing a moment to catch your breath.

Kate went on and on for weeks about him. Telling you if you didn't make a move she will. You had to remind her she had a long term boyfriend and you were seeing someone at the time, which soon fizzled out.

"I don't understand why you never say no to her." he tried to rationalize. You pushed passed him on your way to the shared bathroom.

"It's better today yes than listen to her complain." you told him back. Shutting the door before he could say anymore.

You took a quick shower, making sure to shave every nook and cranny. Layering yourself in body butter and making sure to spritz extra perfume. You choose to leave your hair straight, and simple makeup.

Tapping your foot against the aged wood floor, having a hard time decided between a short tight black dress or to go more casual in shorts and a cute top.

"Go with the dress." König voice reached you from your door. Startling you out of your thought, causing you to drop the dress onto the floor. König walked right in, bending down to the floor and retrieving the skimpy black dress. Still on his knees he held it up for you to grab, his head was so close to your core which was now pulsing with desire. You cheeks were flushed as you snatched it out of his grasp.

"Thanks.." you said hesitantly, turning away from him. He left you in silence, closing the door on his way out. You pulled out matching pair of lace lingerie, the ones you buried deep in your dresser. A gift from Kate, you've never worn them so todays that day you do.

You took a deep breath before stepping out into the shared common area, König's attention was on the football (American soccer) game. The click of your heels drawing his attention away. You stood their, twirling your fingers around. Shrinking under his lustful gaze. König cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his pants.

"How do I look?" you asked bashfully, the heat of your blush rising up from chest and across your face. "You look...." he was lost for words, the way the dress hugged every curve. "You look beautiful." he stood from his seat, the fabric over his crotch pulling tight against his throbbing cock. He knew he shouldn't be having these thoughts about you.

But he couldn't help himself. From the moment he set eyes on you, he was entranced.

"Give me a little spin." he commanded. Taking two long strides, taking your hand into his and giving you a little twirl. The giggle that came out of your mouth went straight to his cock.

Bzzz BZZZZZZ

The apartment buzzer rang through the space, pulling yourself away you rushed to the com system. "I'll be right down." you yelled through it. Hearing a mixture of garble coming from the other end.

"I'll probably be home late, if not I might crash at Kate's. I'll try not to wake you." the words rushed out of you as you ran around grabbing the last minute items before shuffling out the door.

König didn't get a goodbye in, or a have fun. The pit of jealously boiling up in his stomach stopped him. He watched from the livingroom as you bundled into Kate's car, watching the tail lights disappear down the street. He turned his attention back to his football game. But he couldn't focus, the ache of his cock kept plaguing his thoughts.

Usually he reserved himself to either his or the shower. But he couldn't help himself, pulling out his throbbing cock. It was already hard as a rock, the tip angry and leaking just a bit. The first few strokes had him holding his breath. He needed more, abandoning his spot on the couch, dick exposed to the air. He found himself in your room. It was smaller than his, everything was messily thrown around. He made his way right to your panties drawer, digging in the back to find the black lace panties you hid.

He came back empty handed, the thought of you wearing them under the dress had his cock leaking down the front of his pants, making a mess. He settled on a satin pair, purple in color with a small rose in the front.

Seating himself back on the couch, panties wrapped tight around his member. Stroking himself with you panties, using his knuckles to muffle out his wonton moans. He was too focused on the duty at hand. He didn't hear the door unlocking and the soft click of your heals.

You walked down the hall towards the shared living area, seeing König still on the couch. Pulling the straps of your heels off you let the loudly clank to the floor. You were a little iratated but also thankful that the night didn't go as planned.

König's head shot around, eyes wide in horror to seeing you standing behind him. If you didn't know better, it was like you caught him in the middle of something. The closer you got, you understood why.

Konig had your favourite pair of panties in his fist. His leaking tip poking out the top, as fast as it happened he through a pillow over his lap to block your view.

Stumbling backwards you rushed out some apologies. Babbling on about giving him some space.

König didn't want space at all, he wanted you. His hungry eyes watching has the hem of your dress rose up your thighs, just about exposing you ass. He stood quickly, following you into your room.

"I'm so sorry." you kept repeating. The heat of the embrassment flushed on your face. König stood there, cock out as he tried to get you to look at him.

"OMG!" you screamed, quickly averting your eyes. "Doll look at me." he tried to get you to face him but you couldn't. "Can you please put it away at least." he found your question amusing. "Why? Does it scare you?" he asked back. You scoffed at him, but deep down it did just a little.

Yes you've seen a handful of cocks before but none of them compared to König's.

"No." you said quietly.

"Why don't you touch it a bit, it won't bite." he took a small step towards you. Your stained panties still in his hand.

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆♕⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

LMFAO ok he got a little pervy at the end. I kinda want to make a part two now.

#cod mw2 #konig #könig #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #support your creators

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kjmalfoy · 4 months

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Captain John Price • Headcannons

Theme- 18+ NSFW/ Dirty Dancing with Price ;3

Author’s Note- Man, I love Price so much.. I need him biblically.

My Masterlist <33

Price is a very composed man, he can control himself very well— almost too well. But, when it comes home from a mission and you’re wearing nothing but one of his shirts? He looses it, immediately.

Ex: Price walked into your apartment, smelling your homemade soup already. “Sweetheart?” He calls out, walking through the front door— seeing you bent over the sink, reaching for your wooden spoon. The heat flushed straight to his cock, his erection pressing prominently against his pants. John walked over to you, latching his rough hands around your waist— pressing his cock against your back. “Fuck, you look good in my shirt.” He whispered.

Size Kink. Price absolutely LOVES how he hovers over you; his big calloused hand able to wrap around your tits perfectly… Not to mention how he gets off on the sight of his cock bulging in your tummy.

Ex: You were sprawled out on the bed, the straps of your bra dangling off your bare shoulder. John kneeled in front of you, one hand cupping your jawline; the other kneading and holding your breast. You watched his nostrils flare in frustration, eagerly tugging down his boxers; letting his hard cock spring free. “Want me to fill you up, hm baby?” He cooed at you, quickly slipping his cock into your dripping pussy; grunting as he dick plunged into your stomach.

Price is very secretive about your sex life, he keeps those intimate moments between you and him; no body else. But, he can’t help but keep a naughty photo tucked in his wallet; something he can look at while he is away on missions.

Ex: John had you kneeled before him, his hand wrapped around your jawline; forcing you to look up at him, his warm cum dripping down your flushed cheeks. His breathing was still heavy, but you could hear him fumble with his desk. “You look absolutely divine, sweet girl.” He praised you, holding up an old film camera. “Smile for me, baby.”

Price absolutely LOVES eating your pussy, this man in the definition of being pussy drunk. He loves the way you unravel for him, the way your juices taste of his tongue, how your thighs tighten around his face. He loves nothing more than to tuck his face between your legs and lick on you for HOURS.

Ex: Sleeping soundly, you felt the blankets being pulled off you; your bare legs being greeted by the uncomfortable cold air. Your eyes fluttered open, heart racing at the sight in front of you. Price was laying on his stomach, his face just inches away from your sheer panties. “Good morning, Princess.” He mumbled, sliding your panties to the side; eyes flickering at the sight of your puffy and wet lips. Without hesitation, John tucks his face between your legs, groaning in satisfaction as his tongue swiped along your folds. “Taste so good, Sweetie.”

John isn’t a huuuuge fan of blowjobs, he prefers to feast on the heaven between your legs ;) BUT, he will never say no when you tuck yourself beneath his desk; staring up at him with innocent eyes as you take his cock in your pretty little mouth.

Ex: Looking up, Price puffs on his cigar; staring at you with an expression full of questions. “Need something, Princess?” He asked, resulting in a sweet giggle from you. Walking towards Price, you push his chair back and lowered yourself onto your knees. “Wanna make you feel good, Daddy.” You whined, hiding underneath his desk. Price tossed his head back, placing his cigar on the ashtray by his desk. “Fuckin hell, Lovely.” He groaned at the feeling of your nimble fingers touching his throbbing cock.

The embodiment of authority kink. Price hates holding his title over people, but you? He gets OFF on using his power against you, absolutely yearns to hear your velvety voice call him Sir or Captain— practically combust when those words leave your mouth.

Ex: Price grasped your hips, pulling you into his lap; his erection pressing warm friction against your needy cunt. You whined and pouted, playfully pressing your body against his lap; eager to feel that throbbing dick plunge inside of you. “Mm, I need it.. So bad.” You pleaded, barely able to get the words past your lips. John shook his head, giving you a light tap on the ass. “Say my name, lovey.” He nibbled on your ear lobe; his taunting chuckle joining afterwards. “Please, Captain. I need it sososo bad.”

An absolute KING when it comes to aftercare. Draws a nice warm bath for you, fills the water with bubbles and soaking salts to relax your tense muscles. Massages your back, and gently plays with your hair while you relax.

Ex: John left you laying comfortably on the bed as he excused himself to the bath; the sound of running water already calming your body down. Before you knew it, John was walking back into the bathroom— carefully lifting your bruised body into his arms. “Cmon, love. Let’s get you in the bath..” He mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. Your cold body slipped into the warm water, a short whine coming off your lips as you looked up at Price— loving and admiration clear in your eyes. Gently cupping the water, John splashed it over your back; tracing his fingers along your spine. “Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Hates wasting money on condoms. Absolutely despises it 🙄. He rather fill you up with his cum, keeping his dick stuffed inside your throbbing walls— with the pure intentions of making you a mommy.

Ex: Price had you positioned on top of him, his hands wrapped around your waist; guiding you up and down on his cock— your breast bouncing with every thrust. “Shit, you feel good.” He grunted, his balls tightened as his release approached. “Mm, want me to fill you up? Pump your belly full of my cum, make you a mommy.” He teased between heavy groan, receiving an exaggerated whine from your lips; nodding frantically at his words.

His favorite position is definitely cowgirl. Price is such a tits > ass type of guy, absolutely loves watching your tits jiggle as you bounce on his cock— fucking LOVESSSS leaving marks and bruises all over your sensitive nipples 🤭.

Ex: His hands were latched on your hips, finger like bruises already burned into your soft skin. Price stared at you in awe, watching your round and full breast jiggle everytime you bounced on his cock. “So pretty, Princess. My pretty little girl.” He mumbled, latching his lips around your nipples; gently rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth. You whimpered and whined, feeling his lips suck and pull on your nipple, his teeth moving towards the soft skin of your tit; leaving deep bite marks in your flesh.

Quickies? Hates them; BUT will settle if he’s pent up. He rather have you begging for his mercy for hours on end, then pulling out it a quick orgasm in ten minutes. He loves watching you twitch and shudder at his touch, begging him for more with a fucked out facial expression… Feels like quickies don’t truly make up for the love he has for you.

Ex: Price had you pushed against his desk, one leg resting on the wooden tabletop; the other keeping you steady as he pounded into you. John was still wearing his uniform, his cock only poking out through the zip of his pants. “Fuck, Baby. Wait till I come home, I’m gonna treat this little pussy like it’s the last thing on earth.” He grunted out, quickly chasing his high before his men walked through the doors. His breathing was heavy and labored, fingers latched into the flesh of your— pulling it back into him with each thrust. “Cmon, Princess. Gotta cum for me, make it quick.” He guided.

♡ HIII! I hope you enjoyed this set of headcannons! Please, checkout my masterlist (at the beginning <3) if you’re interested in anymore of my world.

♡ My request are open, if anyone would like a specific character or theme! Please, feel free to request anything :)

♡Anyway! Comments, likes, and reblogs are deeply appreciated <33

#captain john price #cod price #cod mwii #captain price headcanons #captain price x you #modern warfare 2 #support your writers #john price headcanons #barry sloane #headcanon #fanfic

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kjmalfoy · 4 months

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prize counter girl ☆ ten

➥ michael afton x camgirl!reader

you've been a camgirl for only a few months and everyone loves the content you post. when michael afton porn surfs to relieve his stress, he comes across your videos. the more he jerks off to your content, the more he's addicted. but it wasn't until, a few months later, he sees your familiar face as the new employee working at the prize counter.

chapter warnings. sex work mentions, so much flirting

notes. we’re backkkk 😋😏😫😍‼️ i hope y’all enjoy this adorable, lovely chapter that i KNOW yall have been dying for. here’s some yummy food @ihrtlert

pcg materlist • previous • chapter eleven

As much as you wanted to keep making out with Michael in the dimly lit hallways of the pizzaplex and escalate things further, he had a few things to do before locking up the place. First things first, cleaning up the supply closet and then finish organizing the boxes of new prizes and supplies for the arcade. It was his fault for getting himself distracted like this, staying much longer than he was supposed to that you decided to offer some help.

But that didn't mean the end of your night together.

"So. What made you wanna stay during closing tonight, hm?" he teased as he was closing the closet door. "And where were you hiding this whole time, anyway?"

You were leaning against the checker-patterned wall as you fixate on him, smirking in a subtle snarky manner. "Upstairs where the bar and lounge are at. I wanted to check out for myself what was upstairs and then... that's when I found you.

"Oh? Roaming around where you're not supposed to, I see..." Michael mirrored your smirk, dipping his head lower and inhaling your sweet scent that drives him insane. Just like before, the gap between you two is now inevitably thin, feeling his body heat transmitting onto your chest as you arched your back against the wall.

"Aw, am I in trouble?" you bantered, settling your gaze on him with the right kind of heat and ardor pooling in your flaunting eyes. It was the same look you gave him in the break room today. The same look when you cleaned his cum off his cock. Your fucking "fuck me" eyes. The look you give him as if you're undressing him without even touching him that drives every fiber of his being to just... ravage you.

"We'll both be in trouble if you keep fucking looking at me like that," he murmured in your ear with his tone falling sharper and stricter, a shiver coursing down your spine. He was frustrated. A little enraged, even. And that turned you the fuck on that even Michael could tell.

In such close proximity and prolonged silence, you gaze intensely into each other's eyes one last time, surrendering to this imbalance of power and unfair seduction, that he immediately had to pull away before he got carried away again. In just a fleeting moment, the both of you snapped back into reality.

"I— I, uh, have to lock up," he sputters. "You can go through the regular exit to the back parking lot since there's no cameras. I'll go through the main exit where I parked."

You sighed deeply as if your heart sank, pushing yourself off the wall with your gaze attached on the floor. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Michael...."

"You too," he beams, slightly agitated, but involuntarily raising his arms out as a gesture for a hug. He wanted to feel the warmth of your body melting onto him one last time, an inhale of your scent to linger in his nose, to at least hold you as if he wanted to protect you. His heart then palpitated when you wrap your arms around his neck and laid the side of your head on his chest, your lips stretching to a smile at how fast his heart was beating.

Michael never wanted to let go.

This embrace felt like the longest he's ever hugged a woman. But after glancing at the clock on the wall and noticing it was almost 12AM, you had to separate. He was here closing the pizzaplex for an hour, way past the time he was supposed to leave. But for some reason tonight, he wasn't feeling all sleepy or tired from work. As if he felt that same rush of energy he got from kissing you last night...

When you already left to the parking lot with your stuff, Michael was lingering in his thoughts. An ongoing battle in his mind, his leg bouncing up and down from this sudden burst of energy as he sat alone in his car. Thinking of you. Thinking of the confession. Every thought of his was consumed by you, and only you, like a triggered springlock clawing into the depths of flesh and bones, unable to escape.

Tomorrow is another day with her. Just ask her out in the morning.

A nice, innocent date where she can dress up and look pretty while I treat her and spoil her.

But tomorrow is too long from now, man.

I'd rather lose hours of sleep than lose a simple last minute date night with her I've been wanting for so long.

He was the only car parked in this lot while yours was on the south side of the building where all the employees are supposed to park. Throwing away his inhibitions like he always does, he speeds around to the corner of your designated parking spot, hoping that you didn't leave yet. To Michael's luck, you were still there turning your engine on.

Your heart fluttered when you suddenly see his car in your peripheral vision pull up beside you on your left, facing the opposite direction so he could be closer to you in the driver's seat. His window was already down with his elbow resting on its ledge, an exhilarated smile on his face as if he just couldn't wait to see you again.

You couldn't help but laugh as you rolled down your window, shaking your head. "I knew you were gonna come around."

"Well, you said it yourself. I enjoy your company as much as you enjoy mine," he teases, his heart still thundering in his chest in agitation even after he motivated himself just awhile ago.

"Shouldn't you be catching up with your hours on sleep? I know I made you stay a little late..."

"You don't have to worry about me. I've actually been sleeping pretty good recently," he smiles, dismissing the fact that you really were at fault for his lack of sleep the past couple of months— but he allowed it.

"That's good to hear," you bantered. "Did you drive all the way here to be my passenger prince again?"

Michael chortled, finding his laughter and the way his eyes crinkle adorable to you. He then inhaled sharply with his teeth clenched, mentally preparing himself and ruminated on his thoughts before speaking.

"Ah, well... After what just happened back there, I— I didn't want our sudden late night together to end just like that..."

"Oh? Is my manager... asking me out on a Sunday night?"

“Not your manager," he corrected. "Your biggest fan."

When you drift your gaze onto Michael, a warm, bonny sensation dissolves onto his skin from the way your eyes glimmered at him. A surging tide of ardor and infatuation blossoming in your stomach— this man would never fail to surprise you, to be the cause of your body surrendering to the charming side of his personality. He could tell you were robbed of speech and so was he— but then again, time was limited.

"And yeah— I know it's really last minute," he continues with a slight stammer, "believe me, if I had the time to take you out, I would've planned ahead. You know, so you can have enough time to dress up and get ready and not have to show up in your daily attire or even your work uniform—"

"Michael, it's fine. I would love to go out with you," you reassured to him sweetly. The way he rambled, the way you can tell he's still nervous and stumbling over his words urged you to just shut him up with another kiss. Good thing he wasn't your passenger prince for tonight or you might've recreated what happened last night... perhaps escalate things more than just a heated, intense make-out session.

Michael blinked rapidly like he just had a double-take. "Oh. Then, uh... you'll just have to follow me and we'll meet there."

"Do you know where we're going?" you asked, grabbing the clutch of your stick shift from park position to drive.

"It's only, like, fifteen minutes from here. Definitely a nice, relaxing getaway place from work. I think you'd love it."

You never thought that you'd experience these kind of late nights with Michael; stargazing together, admiring the stunning cityscape, and indulging in the nightly, tranquil ambiance of this perfect night. There was a place in downtown that he knew, a secluded hilltop that shows the breathtaking view of the twinkling city and midnight sky. As you sat on the hood of his car and relaxed under the stars, it was also a perfect time to ruminate on life and have more than just "small talk" outside of work.

"...To be honest, sex work has always been physically and mentally exhausting," you confided to him. "I don't even know why girls who just turned 18 all of a sudden wanna be in the porn industry. There's so many fucked up people online that can exploit these young and impressionable girls— believe me, I've seen everything in less than 5 months I started. There's a dark side to this industry that's never talked about or even forewarned before you do sex work."

Michael had his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder in comfort. "I always thought that shit was weird... It's always social media that pressures those young girls to do sex work for 'empowerment' when in reality... it'll just destroy them, right?"

"Yeah. That's why I never take sex work too seriously and didn't want this to be my career. I mean, yeah there will be times when I do it for fun and earn good money from my viewers, but... that's only the glamorized part of it all. In the end, sex workers shouldn't be demonized, but the industry shouldn't be glorified, either. I will always support women who do this because of their financial situation, as long as they're cautious and understand their reality."

"You're absolutely right," he says. "I'll always be supporting you too, you know. It's just— I still can't get my head wrapped around the fact that we actually work together. My first time seeing you, I literally didn't know how to function. I was just like... holy shit."

The two of you chuckled as your mind replayed the way Michael seized up after seeing you for the first time that day. "I've never seen a man fold like that ever," you teased. "You were so awkward in real life compared to when we chatted online. That's why I had my doubts, but— it was kinda hot seeing you all shy and nervous around me."

I won't be the one shy and nervous next time...

Michael scoffs, grinning down at the ground. "I mean, could you blame me? I didn't expect the camgirl I masturbate to working here with me."

"Oh my god, shutup," you bantered, lightly tapping him with your knuckles.

Michael couldn't believe that after so much time had passed until a few days ago when he fist met you, you were starting to be comfortable with each other. Aside from just flirting and intense sexual tension, there was something else existing between you two that just felt... surreal.

This beautiful balance of having flirty banter, sarcasm, and humor that would go to being sweet and genuine with each other, and then being able to empathize together, opening up to each other about serious things in life... This kind of connection for him was not only what he's been craving, but what he cherishes, something so special that he would never want to lose.

"...What's your schedule looking like the next couple weeks?" Michael asks, slanting his head closer to yours just to take in your scent again.

"Hm. I think I might be off next Friday..."

“Oh really? I'm also off that Friday too," he replied sardonically, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"What about your dad?" you piqued. "Do you think he's gonna get suspicious of us at work?"

Michael's hummed, slightly perturbed as he thought about the times where his dad pestered him just from seeing you two together. "It's kinda hard to tell, you know? Him suspecting his employees having something going on is the least of his priorities. Like, he won't be watching us all the time, especially on the cameras. But if we make things way too obvious... he's not that dumb. We'll definitely get in trouble."

"I get it. I think it's best to keep our distance just in case," you suggested, settling your gaze onto his face as you leaned on his shoulder. There goes that look again, beguiling him wholeheartedly. Your riveting, doe eyes with the moonshine reflecting off the lens has never looked so beautiful. But whether this was intentional or not, he can sense that you love making him feel this way.

She is the only one that does this to me.

She drives me crazy. She makes me act out of control until I'm not longer myself.

And she takes sick fucking pleasure while doing it.

She knows what she does to me.

"You and I both know that's fucking impossible," he coaxed, turning himself to stand in front of you while caressing your waist. "I can't stand not being around you. Talking to you on break or even after work isn't enough for me."

You find yourself leaning against the hood of Michael's Audi as he inches closer. Your breath nearly faltered from the way his fingertips glides against your skin, drizzling you with goosebumps. A sweet sensation interwoven, burning every molecule of desire in your bodies. He's been aching to caress you, to hold you safe in his arms, to touch you in places that sends you right over the edge... Nothing could help the fact that the both of you were touch-starved deep down.

"The supply closet and a few other places downstairs," he mutters into your ear, "there's no cameras. I know you love showing off in front of cameras, but... a private show wouldn't hurt, hm? That is— of course, whenever you're down for it. Not like I'm gonna randomly snatch you and then we have a quickie. That's insane."

You bursted out laughing from his sudden tone shift, him being all flirty and then back to his sarcastic self. "You're funny, Michael."

"Well, in all seriousness... That Friday I'll also be requesting time off. We'll have the whole day to ourselves— and I'll definitely have a perfect first date planned for us."

Your arms slither around his neck, lips just mere inches away from his as both of your hearts pound in excitement. "I can't wait," you murmured fondly.

Michael presses his lips against yours, melting onto each other passionately right under the pale moonlight. This beautiful feeling, this beautiful sense, this basking of pleasure knowing that he's all yours— not only admitting his dirty little secrets and the lustful pining had brought you two closer than ever, but also the intimate, ardent feelings you both had for each other was mutual.

Now that he can be himself without acting so painfully awkward around you, so much burden had finally lifted off his shoulders. No more secrets, nothing else to hide from each other anymore. But there were still a few more problems the both of you had to inevitably face at work— one of them being William Afton if he ever suspected that his employees are officially dating each other.

Fuck the fraternization policy.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐎 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access.

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kjmalfoy · 4 months

Text

Melancholy Love • 18+ Content

Warnings- Mentions of Childhood Abuse (Physical & Verbal), Domestic Violence, PSTD, Flashbacks, Crying, Touchy Subjects, Mentions of Divorced Parents, Daddy Issues, Depression, Rough Family Relationships, Age Gap, Mature/Sexual Themes.

Summary- You always had a crush on your therapist, Dr. Leon Kennedy, he soon became like a father figure to you. You knew it was wrong, and that you probably shouldn’t have a male therapist— but you couldn’t stay away from him. His words always made your issues go away, so you kept going. The months of therapy helped you immensely, but when your father reached out to you about coming home for the holidays— you felt your world crumble, but instead you were crumbling in the arms of your therapist.

Pairings- Therapist!Leon!Kennedy + Reader

Word Count- 2.2K

Masterlist <3

Chapter 1; Prologue, Chapter 2; First Session

• Flashback •

The chilly weather made the curtains shiver, blowing crazily throughout the early morning. You could feel the air pouring over you, even with the heavy duvet covering your body. After hours of relentless tossing and turning, you finally gave up.

Staring at the alarm clock on your bedside, the number “2:35 A.M” was burned into your mind; almost making your eyes burn from the brightness of staring into the numbers displayed on the screen. Wiping your eyes, you lazily pulled yourself from bed; stumbling as you tucked your feet into the fuzzy slippers underneath your bed.

Letting out a small yawn, you walked out of your bedroom, trembling at the harsh breeze that whipped through your body. As you walked closer to the stairs, you heard the faint sound of screams; joined with strings of curse words. The sounds made you jump, but your feet continued to move closer.

The stairs creaked and echoed with each step you took, but yet no one heard you. The eerie silence scared you, the only comfort was the worn-down stairs as you descended further. The silence lasted a quick minute before a loud thud made your body shiver, and the argument quickly grew louder.

Standing on your tippy toes, you tried to peer over the railing that guarded you from falling overboard. The sight in front of you made your blood run cold, fear and despair coursing through the blood in your veins. Your mother sat on the kitchen floor, holding her knees to her chest as your father stood over her.

The kitchen table was flipped, and all the contents that decorated the wood were now scattered around the floorboards. “Mommy..?” You mumbled, your soft voice trembling as your father immediately spun around to face you.

His nostrils flared as he took two large steps toward the staircase. “Why the fuck are you awake? Get in bed, now!” His voice boomed throughout the walls, the depth of his voice triggering your flight or fight instincts.

Swiftly running back into your room, you pushed your door shut, locking it immediately before your father could follow you into your safe haven. You didn’t even notice the tears dripping from your eyes, or the coldness that consumed your small body. All you could do was tuck yourself in bed, cuddling the unicorn plushie that smelled of your mother’s perfume.

•Present•

Shooting out of bed as if you were being exercised, you couldn’t help but desperately huff and puff for air; failing to breathe from the haunting memories rooted in your childhood. You could feel the sweat beads drip from your face, the heat making your head spin with dread and anger.

You glanced over at your phone, pulling it off the charger as you held it to your face. “8:30 A.M.” The time read, only a few minutes before your alarm. The dread consumed your body, instantly making you forget about the anger the flashback had caused you. Reluctantly, you pulled yourself from the bed; slipping your feet into your fuzzy bedroom slippers.

You were taking in one large huff of air before prying yourself to your feet, pulling open the black curtains that guarded your bedroom from the sun. The clouds consumed the sky, hiding the sun behind them as rain droplets swept through the sky; the trees shaking in the autumn breeze. Such a gloomy morning, almost making you want to cower away in bed; avoiding the outside world for the rest of the day.

The blasting ring of your phone made your head spin, staring at the buzzing screen; “Therapist” plastered across the lockscreen of your cat. Sighing in defeat, you grabbed your phone and cleared your throat. “Hello?” You spoke with a hoarse voice, your fingers trembling with nerves as you held your phone to your ear.

“Good morning, [Y/n]. I’m just calling to make sure our appointment is still available.” Your therapist spoke, his raspy voice making your head throb with peace; almost instantly washing away your nerves.

You coughed quietly, trying to rid of the dry lump in your throat. “Yes, of course. I’ll be on my way soon.” You tried to speak cheerfully but failed miserably.

“Don’t be nervous. This is a huge step for you, it’ll be okay.” He reassured you, barely hearing your voice tremble as you spoke to him.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you replayed his words; trying your best to consume them. “Right, thank you. I’ll see you soon, Dr. Kennedy.” You said softly before hanging up, giving yourself the time to get ready.

Tossing the phone back on the bed, you decided to put your big girl pants on; refusing to let your past control your life. “I can do this.” You mumbled to yourself as you lazily crept into your bathroom, ridding yourself of the pajamas you wore to bed; slipping into the shower, and turning the water on full heat.

You stood underneath the blazing shower head, soaking up the warmth that trickled down your body, leaving your skin scattered with redness. The warmth almost felt inviting, making you wonder what it would feel like to be trapped against your therapist; the replay of his raspy voice only added to your intimate thoughts.

Splashing yourself with water, wishing it was holy water as you tried to wash away the sinful thoughts you were having. It’s your first real therapy session, and you were already shaming yourself for having impure thoughts about your therapist; someone who was there to guide you through your grief and traumatic experiences

Quickly finishing up, you slipped through the shower curtain, wrapping your robe tightly around your wet body, soaking up the droplets that glued themselves to your sticky skin. Returning to your bedroom, you scanned over your closet; looking for the perfect fall outfit for the gloomy weather.

Settling on a pair of plain black leggings, you decided to pair it with an oversized beige sweater; wearing the worn-down leather boots you’ve had for years to finish a lazy, yet put-together look. You flattened out your clothes, looking at yourself in the mirror; picking at the flaws you could find, trying to waste time before you had to rush off to your appointment.

Glancing down at the watch that wrapped around your wrist, you hastily grabbed your purse from the hanger glued to your closet door; not forgetting to toss your MetroCard into the leather pockets before dashing out of your apartment, letting yourself take on the rainy day face-to-face; letting the droplets sink into your already damp hair, the smell of rain drowning out your lavender-scented shampoo.

You slipped through the busy streets, careful not to draw any eyes as you skipped down the subway station; waiting against the graffiti-piled pillars, humming a short melody as you tried to drown out the conversations around you. The subway platform was crowded with people, each of different ages and aesthetics. Some wore suits that were tailored to their bodies, others wore their high school uniforms, carrying their heavy backpacks on their shoulders, while others were still wearing clubbing clothes from the previous night.

Admiring the differences, you couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place; wondering if their eyes were judging you as you judged everyone else in the area. You wondered if the businessman next to you judged you for your cheap clothing, or your lousy perfume that probably didn’t mix well with the scent of rain. Maybe the high school girls were judging you for not wearing any makeup, or not fully blow-drying your hair before leaving the apartment.

Each and every thought you had only made your calves burn; eager to dart back home, and tuck yourself into the comfort of your bed and suffer while stuffing your face with your favorite ice cream. Before you had the opportunity to spin on your heels, the train came racing down the tracks; the loud noise altering everyone to step away from the yellow line in case of incident. The crowd before you grew larger, bodies being pressed up against each other as everyone tried to cram into the already-packed train car.

As the train took off, you felt your body wobble back and forth, causing your knuckles to tighten as you gripped the handlebar, holding onto it with dear life as you tried not to bump into any stranger that surrounded you. The aroma of the subway made you lightheaded, the smell of piss, cheap axe bodyspray, and overly expensive perfume filling up your nostrils in the most uncomfortable way.

You felt as if this was a sign, the sign letting you know to run back home while you still can; the sign that discouraged you from overcoming your trauma, the stupid sign that made you feel like a coward— Nothing but a scared little girl in a world so big, she didn’t know what to do. Inhaling a large gust of air, trying to avoid the foul smell of the atmosphere; you reminded yourself why you were here— Reminding yourself that you weren’t healing just your grown self, but the scared little girl that was still buried inside you.

As if the world was against you, the train came to a sudden halt— the robotic voice of the conductor alerting every one of the stop; that just so happened to be your destination. Gulping down your overworked nerves, you gripped your purse handle tightly— making your way towards the platform.

Fumbling with your purse, you pulled your phone out; checking the time. “9:15 AM” shines brightly across your screen, giving you fifteen minutes before your appointment time. Shuddering your nerves away, you slipped past the crowd of people, finding your way out of the subway platform— greeted once again by the busy streets of NY.

You almost felt like your feet sunk into the ground, feeling the ungodly heaviness in your calves with each step you took as you walked closer to the therapy center. The strings in your heart became tight with defeating anxiety, making your teeth grit against each other with apprehension.

Within a few blocks of dread and anxiety, you stood outside the therapy center— clutching onto your purse as your fingers trembled. You looked at the building, cringing at the flowers painted onto the window— hotline numbers painted with pastel colors. Sighing heavily, you reached for the door handle; the bell chiming loudly in your ear as you walked through the doors.

“Good morning! How can I help you today?” The receptionist greeted you politely; a large friendly grin on her olive skin.

You gave her a measly smile, taking a quick glance around the place before sheepishly walking towards her. “Hi. I’m here for an appointment.” You spoke slowly, digging for the paperwork you stuffed in your purse.

She nodded, keeping the same joyful smile on her face as she opened her computer. “Great! What’s your name, hun?” She asked cheerfully, typing loudly on the keyboard.

Pulling out the thick stack of paper, you set it on the marble desk— “[Y/n] [L/n]. I have an appointment with Doctor Kennedy.” You blinked a few times, shuddering internally as you said his name.

The lady hummed softly, reaching for the file to briefly scan over it with her glossy eyes. She returned to her computer, typing a few things before glancing back over at you. “You can go ahead and wait outside his office. Last door on the left.” She explained with a chirpy tone.

As you nodded your head, you took a large inhale in an attempt to steady your nerves. You flashed the receptionist a measly smile before walking away, feeling the dread in your calves as you forced yourself to walk down that hallway. The gray walls were scattered with thrift store paintings and fake plants in every corner, setting a minimalist tone in the building; different from the crowded streets outside.

The waiting room was empty, not another presence crowding the room; leaving all the chairs open. Sitting in the chair furthest from Dr. Kennedy’s office, you started bouncing your leg anxiously— your calves and foot starting to cramp from the hasty movements.

Shortly after, the sound of a creaking door made your ears ring; and caused your head to immediately dart towards the direction of the sound. Eyes widening a bit, you blinked slowly; Dr. Kennedy stepped out of his office, those almond shaped eyes squinted slightly as he flashed a soft smile.

“Good morning, [Y/n]. Are you ready to start the session?” He asked with a calm voice, adjusting the tie underneath his collar.

You gulped down, nervously standing on your wobbly legs; returning the polite smile. “Good morning, Doctor. I guess so.” You laughed nervously, walking towards Dr. Kennedy.

He returned the soft chuckle, pushing the door open further; holding it open as you carefully walked into his office. Once you stepped into his office, the door closed behind him, letting you know this situation was very real.

Looking around, the interior was dark, almost radiating a gloomy yet peaceful atmosphere. The dark atmosphere gave you the feeling of sanctuary. You looked behind you, Dr. Kennedy offered a seat at the velvet black chair, assisting your comfort throughout the entirety.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. Sessions can often be uncomfortable for the patient, and I would like to make this as comfortable and peaceful as I can.” He commented, grabbing the file on his desk; sitting directly in front of you.

♡︎ Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I know it was slightly short, but the chapters will grow longer the deeper I get into the story :)

♡︎ All reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! Your support means the absolute world to me :)

♡︎ Please, check out my masterlist (linked in the beginning of the chapter) and check out my other works!!

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #resident evil leon #re4 leon #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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kjmalfoy · 4 months

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thinking about ghost who thinks too much and oral is the only way to shut his brain up sometimes

ghost x fem!reader nsfw below — filthy. only warning.

at first, it was never a method either of you thought of to try. in general, sex of any kind was just never on the table as it wasn’t something either of you really brought up. the first time it happened, it was completely by accident. ghost’s mask was pressed up to the crooked bridge of his nose, pressing greedy kisses to your lips which you frantically returned. you grabbed at ghost’s shoulders and upper back as he backed you up onto a table, his strong hands grabbing below your thighs and hoisted you up onto the edge of the table with a quiet grunt against your lips.

it felt natural, really. so natural he didn’t realize it until the second time this happened. ghost’s lips trailed down your jaw and down your neck as his fingers unbuttoned your pants, murmured “up” to you—you lifted your hips—and he swiftly tugged down your pants and put them aside. your breath stifles in your throat for a moment as you propped yourself up on your forearms to watch his huge hands grasp right under your knees to spread your legs. a hot pulse flowed through your lower abdomen down to your clit, and you’re sure it lead to a dribble of your wetness.

his eyes are dark and wide. his pupils nearly overtaking his dark brown eyes, and you shudder under his gaze as this large, burly man slowly lowered to his knees—his arms reaching up to tug you closer to the end of the table. “ghost..—“ you breathe out but he cuts you off the second he leans forward and he buries his face into your clothed core, his nose pressing against the fabric and he inhales. “jesus!” you huff, your face burning as you aren’t able to tear your eyes away from him. ghost huffs and inhales your intoxicating scent and you want to smack him when a low, needy groan leaves his throat.

“fuckin’ hell—“ he snarls, his voice uneven before he presses his tongue against the fabric of your underwear, a shaky breath leaving him as he licks, licks, licks, his tongue wetting the thin layer between him and your sweet pussy. before you get a chance to complain, his fingers are already tugging your underwear down. and after that, you watch the way his eyes glaze over like a cat pinning it’s prey right before he leans in for his meal.

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kjmalfoy · 7 months

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hello my sweet readers, since i’ve been gone for so long (please blame college, it’s consuming my life and will to live </3) i’m going to give you guys a quick snippet of a story i’m working on ;)

You coughed quietly, trying to rid the dry lump in your throat. “Yes, of course. I’ll be on my way soon.” You tried to speak cheerfully, but failed miserably.

“Don’t be nervous. This is a huge step for you, it’ll be okay.” He reassured you, just barely hearing the tremble in your voice as you spoke to him.

#leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #re4 leon #resident evil

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kjmalfoy · 8 months

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i absolutely love this series so far. amazing work :)

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

#resident evil leon #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #fanfic #daily dose of dilf #he's not a dad in this #but that doesn't mean hes not a dilf #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #support your writers

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kjmalfoy · 8 months

Note

any update on fatherly love pt 2? cant wait to read!

okay so i’m currently writing part two, but i’m also writing a bucky barnes fic soo please bare with me 💀. im doing all these while trying to balance my college classes and social life so i apologize if my posting is inconsistent 💗

#captain john price #support your writers

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kjmalfoy · 8 months

Text

2:25 AM

Simon 'Ghost' Riley / Reader

Summary: Simon returns home a little earlier than expected, and all he wants is a good night's sleep and the warm body of a person he loves.

Content: coming-home-from-deployment, curvy! civilian girlfriend, domestic fluff, shared shower, jetlag, unprotected sex, lazy middle-of-the-night sex, fingering, hickeys, missionary, cum eating, oral

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Did I type this in one go (frenzied, horny and slightly tipsy), but still need to get up at 5:20 AM for work tomorrow? Yes. Was this stuck in my brain and demanded to be let out? Double yes. NOT FOR MINORS.

The key scraping against the door had her turning around in alarm, spatula clutched in her right hand as the other fumbled for something sharper, pointier.

Simon wasn't supposed to be home for another two weeks, and all she had on her was a fluffy towel and sheet mask - not exactly the proper attire to face a burglar. But Ghost, the Lieutenant not her boyfriend, had taught her how to defend herself. How to make an opponent bleed enough for them to back off or die as the consequence of assaulting her.��

Call me, if you ever have to kill someone, he'd said and stroked her cheek. I'll take care of the mess.

She'd laughed then, and teased him about being too far away to fix anything but now that the adrenaline was pumping through her veins, she started receiting his work number by heart over and over again.

Then the logical part of her brain kicked in, and wondered why on Earth a burglar or serial killer would bother with picking a lock in the first place. Wouldn't they just come smashing through the window-

The door swung open silently, a large gloved hand groped for the light switch in the entrance way and then suddenly he was there, bathed in the soft light of the lamp they'd bought together when they first moved into their shared flat.

Simon still wore a dark mask that covered his mouth and nose, and she stared, flabbergasted, as he methodically removed his gloves and black beanie, dumping his heavy backpack next to the umbrella stand.

"Si?" She whispered, and he flinched, chocolate brown eyes swivelling up to hers as he made an aborted motion, like he was reaching for a holster that wasn't there.

"Focken hell, luv," he slurred, words distorted from lack of sleep. The dark purple rings under his eyes spoke of the long journey he'd taken, and she'd lost track of where in the world he was fighting against evil at this point. "Ye look like a damn axe murderer with that."

He gestured vaguely towards her face, and with a laugh that turned into a sob halfway, she dropped everything she'd been holding, ripped off the overpriced skincare and flung herself into his arms. Simon swayed a bit, and he still smelled of desert dust and faraway places but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered in that moment but him, the feel of his strong arms around her as he lifted her up like she weighed nothing, and pressed his warm cheek against hers.

She quickly pulled his face mask down, and Simon sighed as she kissed him, smiling as she peppered kisses all over his face.

"You didn't tell me you'd be back so early!" She complained, pulling him back into a bone-crushing hug. "I haven't been shopping for all your favourite treats yet!"

"'S fine," he mumbled, then buried his face into her shoulder, sagging a little as he put her back down. "Jus' wanted to be home with you."

Tears threatened to constrict her throat, and she swallowed against it, massaging the back of his head and short curly hair the way he liked.

"Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, hm?" Her voice was only a whisper, but Simon nodded and let her guide him down the short corridor and into the darkness of the bathroom. They left the door open, allowing the light to pour in that way and she helped him strip out of the black joggers and long sleeve he'd been wearing, crouching down to untie his shoelaces.

Under normal circumstances, the heated look he was giving her from above would have been enough for her to stay on her knees for him, but she knew that Simon was running on fumes. As flattering as the bulge in his tight briefs was, it was more of a reaction to be reunited after so long, than actual desire.

She pulled the soft cotton down his muscular thighs, grinning at the relieved hiss he let out when he was completely bare. Pushing him into the shower was easy, and when she stripped off her towel, it was only so she could join him and wash his skin thoroughly.

Simon's hands wandered over her hips and breasts, and he pulled her in for a deep kiss but let her do whatever she pleased after that. She massaged his shoulders and back with soapy hands, ran her hands down his solid but thick abdomen, and even gripped his half-hard cock for a moment.

He groaned and leaned his head against her shoulder, but then she moved her hands up and over into his hair and neck and Simon practically purred.

Blissed out and half asleep, he barely registered her removing the shower head from its mount and running it all over him, washing the suds down the drain and warming his chilled skin.

"Gonna put on your bathrobe for me, babe?" She asked softly, and Simon grunted as she turned off the water. They fumbled out of the shower and struggled a bit until he was wrapped up in black fluffy cotton. Storm trooper, she'd called him many times before whenever he wore this particular monstrosity.

He let her lead him into their shared bedroom, thankfully tidy and clean, and belly-flopped onto the soft mattress. Simon was out within moments, breathing in the scent of fresh linen and her, mind at ease for the first time in forever.

With a smile, she quickly fetched a glass of water for them both, brushed her teeth and then marvelled at the sight of her boyfriend sprawled out on the bed.

Simon was early by almost two weeks, and her heart made a double-flip as she thought of the fact that it was the weekend now and she'd have two uninterrupted days with him before she had to go back to work.

Her eyes wandered over the exposed calves and feet, the long fingers that clutched into her comforter, the translucent brows and lashes.

She changed into her pyjama bottoms and top, snuggling up next to the mountain of black robes and pale skin. Simon's deep breathing never changed as she wrapped one arm and leg around him, burying her face into his damp neck as she fell asleep, completely forgetting about her plan to stay awake all night to prepare for her night shifts.

The next time she awoke, it was still dark outside. Disoriented, she tried to place the warmth on top of her, the mouth that sucked into her skin with enough pressure to leave light pink bruises and made her pussy wet from the suction alone. Broad hands and long fingers were gripping her waist, and Simon's thigh was gently pressed between her legs, rubbing up and down.

She moaned and groped for him in the darkness as he sucked at her skin harder, moving on to her collarbones and breasts, then nipples as he went. He was still wearing the bathrobe, but it was sliding off his shoulders, revealing scarred skin and rippling muscles to her greedy fingers as she roamed over him.

"Si?" She panted and he hummed, fingers pulling her top down until both of her boobs were framed by the fabric, exposed to his hungry mouth.

"I could eat you alive," he mumbled against her skin, then his calloused fingertips ran lower, exposing her stomach as he kneaded the soft skin there and slipped beyond, into her loose shorts.

The breath was knocked out of her as sure fingers rubbed over her embarrassingly slick folds, pushed deeper, and then withdrew only to circle her clit lazily.

"You- you should rest," she stammered but pushed her chest against his mouth and clenched around nothing when he dipped two of his fingers into her and pulled out in the same motion.

"Can't sleep right now," he growled, then plunged his fingers back in, stretching her needy core a bit more. "D'you want me to stop, sweetheart?"

She'd rather die.

"N-no."

"Good," he growled, then captured her mouth in a sloppy kiss that involved a lot of tongues and hitched breaths as his fingers worked away at her. A third soon joined the others, and she whimpered, throwing her head back as he diligently prepared her for his cock. Her hips jerked whenever the ball of his hand brushed against her clit, and her fingers drew painful welts against Simon's shoulders and back, finally disrobing him fully and pulling him on top of her.

"Please Si," she whined, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer until her wet core was pressed against the hardness between his thighs. "Waited so long for you to come home."

He groaned and steadied himself with one arm next to her head, gripping his heavy cock with one hand and brushing the weeping head over her clit and opening several times. The darkness made it hard to see him, but the feel and taste of his skin were enough that night.

She knew that Simon's eyes were a dark pool of molten chocolate right now, that his forehead would be creased in concentration.

At the first breach, she clutched the soft sheets underneath her, pushing her hips into him, impatient. They both hissed, her from the slight discomfort of his girth and him from her tightness, but then she hooked her ankles behind his lower back and pulled him in.

Simon came to rest inside of her with a groan, sleep-warm skin pressed against her cheek as he started to move slowly, savouring it.

There was no rush, only the underlying currents of sleep and weariness that were soaked deep into both their bones as they moved against each other. Skin against skin, the slight sheen of sweat on his back, the trembling of her core and thighs whenever he hit a little too deeply from this angle.

Simon caged her face with his arms, hands in her hair as they kissed.

"I love you," he murmured, over and over again as her eyes rolled back into her head, mouth open as he buried himself inside her. "Missed you so much."

"Missed you, too," she panted, clutching onto him, chest constricting as his hips rutted harshly and strong hands lifted her hips and ass onto him.

Neither of them reached between their bodies to stimulate her clit any more, because they both knew that it would be the end of it. As soon as Simon felt her contract around him, he usually followed and they both weren't ready, needed more from this. Craved that prolonged connection.

His orgasm wasn't a grand spectacle of growls and lovebites like it sometimes was. Instead, Simon huffed into her neck as his movements stuttered, and she felt his lashes flutter against her sweaty skin.

There was a sticky warmth that filled her, overflowed as he kept moving a little while longer.

She'd been happy like that, content not to come in all honesty, because the fact that her lover was back in her arms was more climactic than anything her body could produce.

But Simon had always been a greedy man, eager to please and obsessed with making her soul sing out to him through pleasure.

He withdrew, and they both hissed. Then a warm, wet mouth left a trail down her body, latching onto her thighs. Teeth and tongue worked into her soft skin, sucking harshly and then massaging the sore spot with thick fingers before moving higher and lapping at her slit that was slowly oozing his own release.

"Oh my fucking god," she moaned, clutching at his soft hair as her hips jerked into his face and suddenly he was on her, gripping her hips roughly and eating her pussy out like it was his last meal.

His tongue lapped at her clit, then her sensitive, still stretched-out entrance. Simon slid one finger into her, curled it just right and pumped it in and out rapidly, tongue fluttering.

He rumbled something between her thighs, but if it had been praise or a command, she didn't know and didn't care. Back arching, she clutched her sensitive breasts and pinched her nipples as he sucked and sucked. Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids, and if their neighbours didn't know that Simon had returned by now, they probably knew now.

Unable to hold in the high-pitched whine, she shuddered against his slick face over and over again, trying to get away from the immediate overstimulation as her orgasm crashed through her and eager for more.

Simon continued to suckle and lap at her clit for a while, the sounds obscene and so damn satisfying that she was glad for the darkness that obscured her crimson blush.

"Missed the sounds you make," he growled softly, voice faraway and sleepy as he slotted his entire weight and body against hers, crushing her into the mattress. "Missed your sweet taste."

"Simon!" She complained, embarrassed as she hid into his neck and he dragged his soft cock between their messy bodies for a few seconds, obviously just enjoying the moment.

"Sleep now, love," he sighed, flopping onto his side and pulling her head onto the thick pillow of his bicep, naked body intertwined with hers. "I'll keep watch over you."

I have no words. Just wanted soft, jetlagged and horny Ghost. That's all.

You can find my other COD works here! 🤍

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kjmalfoy · 8 months

Text

for later research purposes

TALK DIRTY TO ME

how konig, ghost, and price talk dirty in bed.

thirsts : open

—

konig is surprisingly vocal when he’s rutting into you, though it’s probably not in the way you think. most of his words come out in hushed whispers laced with obscenities. he seems to lose any sense of shame he usually has because he’s just too drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him.

“feels s’fucking good—“ he mindlessly babbles out.

his large palms are stretched out on both sides of you, fingers digging into the mattress, while he keeps you caged underneath him.

“such a greedy pussy,” he groans out with another roll of his hips. “keeps suckin’ me back in…”

you can feel his hot breath fanning your face while his darkened eyes are stuck — transfixed — on the creamy white ring that covers his cock. the sloppy sounds that fill the room seem to only grow louder with each thrust, as your arousal practically drips down his balls.

“just begging for me to fill ya up,” he hissed out, as he presses down on your stomach which makes you whimper in response. the noise somehow flips a switch in him and has könig fucking into you even harder.

“s’that what ya want? need me to fill ya up, fuck a baby into this pretty cunt?”

price just exudes dominance in all aspects even with his dirty talk, his words are more praising than anything else though. he’s always coaching you through things and telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he knows it gets you off and he also just can’t help but spoil you.

“mhmm, just like that, baby.” he mumbles out as he lazily guides your movements, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his cock.

there’s a smirk on his face that he can’t even be bothered to hide when he hears you whining at the praise. he thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, so desperate for him yet so adamant on not asking for his help. you could be such a brat sometimes, he’d have to deal with that later.

“doing so well,” he says with a groan as he thrusts his hips up in time with your movements. “but you don’t think you’re gonna make me cum just from this, do you?”

it doesn’t take much effort for him to flip you over and have you at his mercy. your legs are now lifted over his shoulders while his dick is fucking you even deeper, the tip prodding against your sweet spot just right it has your toes curling.

“feels good, doesn’t it?” his movements are slow and controlled, he knows you’re close — he can feel it — but he’s not going to reward you unless you use yours words.

“come on, princess. all you have to do is beg and i’ll have you screaming for me…”

everything ghost says is absolutely filthy, he is all about the little details. he doesn’t actually notice what he’s saying in the heat of the moment, all he knows is that his words have your cheeks flushing to a pretty shade of red, and he loves it.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut for me even your pussy knows it.” he practically growls. “look at this sloppy mess you’re making.”

he ruts the tip of his cock against your slit, coating your folds with his pre-cum. “jus’ gonna slip in with how wet you are..”

your arm is slung over your face as a way for you to hide your embarrassment, you know he’s right, there’s no way you could deny it. something about the way he talks to you when he’s pent up like this has your pussy throbbing.

“fuck, need to be balls deep inside this cunt.” he breathes, as he eases his way into you, the fat head of his cock slowly splitting you open as he makes you take in more and more of him.

the veins on his length rub your slick walls deliciously and it’s not surprising that you’re already twitching and creaming all over him as soon as he bottoms out.

“that’s it, there’s my slutty girl.” his raspy laugh fills the silence. “stop using that pretty head, all you need to do is cum for me.”

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kjmalfoy · 8 months

Text

Captain John Price • Headcannons

Theme- Price’s behavior/actions in a relationships (SFW)

Author’s Note- I’m having severe Captain Price brainrot.. He is just BABYGIRL 🥰🥰🤞🏼!

My Masterlist <3

In a relationship Price isn’t a big fan of PDA, however he does enjoy nudging you with his foot whenever he sees you zoning out during meetings.

Ex: Price glanced over at you, watching you twiddle your pen between your fingers; already knowing you weren’t paying attention to the briefing. He kept his eyes on you, gently nudging you with his boot; giving you a stern look as you put down your pen. “Pay attention, aye Solider?” He spoke for your ears, and only your ears.

When you guys are alone, not a second will go by where he isn’t touching you— whether it’s hugging, cuddling, tapping/poking, kissing you, playing with your hair, or even rubbing your foot while you dangle your legs over his lap.

Ex: Whenever Price called you into his office, you knew it wasn’t for serious reasons— just the opportunity for him to get his hands on you. So, once you walk through those doors you know the drill— lock the door behind you, and make your way into Price’s lap. Price immediately wraps his arms around your waist, tucking his face into your hair— smelling the cheap fruity shampoo you buy. “I missed you, Solider.” He mumbled as he caressed your stomach with his fingers.

John can be very secretive when it comes to his job. If he doesn’t think it involves you, you most definitely will not know ANYTHING that’s going on.. for your safety.

Ex: You sat in Price’s office, filling out some paperwork from the mission you had just completed. John was buried in his work, those blue focused on nothing but his computer; only taking a quick second to sip on his coffee. “What’s going on?” You asked softly, glancing at him through your lashes. Price shook his head, dismissing your question. “Until it’s safe, I can’t tell you, honey.”

After a rough day at work, Price will run you a warm bubble bath, order your favorite takeout and, cuddle you until you fell asleep in his arms.

Ex: Walking into your shared sleeping towards, you slammed the door— much louder than you anticipated. Alarmed, John jumped out of bed— staring at the drained expression on your face. Immediately, he stood up and walked over to you— cupping your face gently. “There’s my pretty girl.. Let’s go run you a bath, while I ordered us some takeout. You deserve it, sweetheart.”

Price does his absolute best to reassure you, knowing he is constantly away for work definitely takes a toll on your mental health. So, whenever he can he’ll write stacks of letters during his mission and have someone mail them out to you.

Ex: You sat in Price’s office, feeling a little blue as John had to leave for a “top secret mission.” You always worried about him, knowing that when he left you behind— it was a dangerous mission. A faint knock pulled your attention away from the picture frame Price had on his desk. “Come in.” You said, watching the door open. One of the new recruits stood there, a small stack of letters in his hands. “Regards from Captain Price.” He said, handing you the letters. You opened the first letter, immediately smiling at the written greeting on the paper. “Give me a smile, sweetheart. I’ll be back sooner than you think.”

Price isn’t the best at communicating, so during an argument/disagreement he may shutdown; but, his actions always speak louder than his words. He will purposely go out of his way and do things to remind you he’s sorry.

Ex: You laid in bed; backing facing John’s face, refusing to speak to him after a messy argument. Was it relationship involved? No, it was work— always is, but that doesn’t mean it won’t effect you either way. John knew that, but somehow n he couldn’t find the words to put in a sentence to apologize. So, instead he found himself cuddling closer to you, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist— burying his face into your hair. “I know we’re upset with each other, but I still want my nightly cuddles.”

He’ll purposely act like he forgets about important dates (your anniversary for example) just to see you ignore him for the rest of the day, so the surprise date night will be better later.

Ex: You sat on the couch, holding a glass of wine— drinking your sorrows away as John forgot about your one year anniversary. You knew he was always busy and stressed, so you weren’t entirely surprised— but you were still disappointed. Your body jumped when your heard the front door open— John not supposed to be back home till a few hours. He stood there with a goofy smile on his face, holding your favorite flowers, and a bunch of shopping bags. “Get dressed, Princess. I have a surprise for you.”

John is a very domesticated TRADITIONAL man, he loves spoiling you and spending money on little gifts for you; clothes, shoes, furniture, etc. He heavily believes the saying, “happy wife, happy life.”

Ex: For the last couple of weeks, you’d been talking John’s ear off about this new perfume— And, although Price loved your signature vanilla caramel scent, he also loved seeing you happy. So, as a sweet gift, John immediately ordered the perfume along with new bottles of your signature perfume in case you didn’t like the new one. Once they came in the mail, John wrapped them up in a cute pink gift bag, stuffing it with purple tissues paper. “Hey, Princess. I got you something.”

John always pushes you to be/become the best version of yourself. He supports every single one of your creative ideas and provides funding for everything.

Ex: When you told John you wanted to go back into the medical field because the guys got hurt so often, he immediately set up an infirmary and supplied you with the best medical supplies you could ask for. He made sure everything was perfect, and even handled the paperwork by himself. Price covered your eyes, guiding you to your new office— making sure it was close to his at the same time— “Open your eyes, Doc. You’ll do great, sweetheart.”

If Price notices that you’re in a depressive mood, he’ll pull you onto his lap and pet your hair; letting you cry out your emotions into his arms. Then, he’ll threaten to kill anyone who made you feel like that.

Ex: You laid in bed, snuggling up to Price’s pillow— inhaling his string musky cologne. You were so wrapped up in your tears, you didn’t even notice Price walk into the door. John quickly climbed in bed next to you, engulfing your shiver body in his arms and pulling you on his lap. He caressed your hair softly, gently using his fingertips to massage your scalp. “Go ‘head, honey. Let it all out. I’m here all night long.”

Big spoon. Every single night, John pulls your body into his; snuggling you until you’re suffocating in his affection.

Ex: Once Price was finished with his paperwork, he climbed in bed beside you— eagerly wrapping those strong arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest and nuzzling his face into the locks of your hair. “You’re so warm, Princess.”

Whenever he comes home from a mission (no matter the length) he ALWAYS comes back with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite candies.

Ex: You didn’t expect John to be back so soon, but when he once you were immediately greeted with joy. Price walked into your sleeping quarters carrying a large bouquet of (your favorite flowers) and a small basket filled with (your favorite snacks and candies) “Hey, Sweet Girl. I missed you so much.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, reblogs/comments/and likes are all greatly appreciated!!

My request are still open if anyone has any requests, please feel free to let me know!! 💗

#price mw2 #john price #captain price fanfic #headcanon #cod price #john price headcanons #captain price headcanons #sfw little blog #cod mw2 #captain johnathan price #captain john price

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