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thalia-writes · 4 months

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Distractions NSFW

Captain John Price X Reader

Summary: You are being reprimanded for being distracted lately, little does John know, he's the distraction.

Word count: 3.2K

18+ only

Minors do not interact!

Warnings: Smut, P!inV!, female reader, praise kink, dom!Price, oral fem receiving, creampie if you squint.

Authors note: This is my second work ever so please any and all constructive criticism/feedback is very much appreciated!

One foot in front of the other, you keep pace with the people around you. You were training with the other recruits, running through an obstacle course. The afternoon sun warms your back, sweat gathering on your forehead. Keeping your breathing as even as possible, you focus on staying centered and pushing through the pain. You were in the zone, absolutely crushing the course. Leaping up onto the wall, you pull yourself over the edge and jump off, landing on your feet and immediately running again. Suddenly pulled out of your focus when you hear Price shouting out to the recruits behind you.

“C’mon keep it moving!! You’ll need to be faster than that to survive out in the field!”

Your gaze locks on him, the pure male dominance radiating off of him. Everything about him screams power and my god does it stir something within you. Your mind starts wandering as you take in his figure, inappropriate thoughts invading your mind. Price turns his head and locks eyes with you, at the exact moment you stumble and crash to the ground, scratching up your palms and knees.

“L/N!! My office in 2 hours at 16:00, understand?” Price yells out at you with a frown. You nod as you stand up, dusting yourself off.

“Good, now go get yourself cleaned up, you’re done for the day.”

“Yes, sir.” You reply, walking back to base, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

~2 hours later~

You’re walking to Price’s office, anxiety stirring in your gut. The closer you get to his office, the harder it is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. You nervously chew on your lip as you stop in front of the door. Taking a deep breath to try and calm your nerves, you gently knock. You hear a gruff ‘come in’ from the other side so you turn the doorknob and step inside, closing the door behind you.

“Evening, Y/N. Please, take a seat.” Price gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. You walk over and sit down, your knees threatening to buckle underneath you. Looking over at John as he finishes up some paperwork, you watch his hands as they guide the pen in his grasp. Soon your thoughts have spiraled into wondering how they would feel guiding your body, touching, caressing, teasing, and trailing across your skin. You’re ripped out of your little daydream when John waves his hand in front of your face. Snapping your eyes up to his, you’re met with a frown and concern flashing across his features.

“This is what I’m talking about! Were you even listening?” John scolds, leaning forward in his chair. Averting your gaze, you ramble out an apology.

“I apologize Sir, I wasn’t paying attention. I got, uh, lost in my thoughts for a moment”

John sighs and rubs a hand down his face before looking at you again, folding his hands together on the desk.

“You seem to be doing a lot of that as of late. What has gotten into you? Like today, one minute you’re running through the obstacle course like an old pro, and the next you’re tripping over air and getting a face full of dirt.” John states, shaking his head before continuing. “This has been going on for a while, and it’s gotten to the point where we need to have a conversation about where your head's at. What has got you so distracted?”

Your heart drops into your stomach. How the hell am I supposed to tell him that he is why I’m so god damn distracted? You think to yourself. You move your head to the side, looking at the wall, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“I- uh, It’s nothing Sir, just some personal things. I’ll get it under control.”

His intense gaze bores into you, making you shift in your chair. You don’t realize he’s moved until he’s standing right in front of you. His hand grasps your chin, turning your head towards him. You look up at him with wide eyes, catching his piercing blue eyes staring down at you. He leans forward, towering over you, so close that you can smell his intoxicating cologne.

“Something tells me that you’re not quite telling the truth, eh Love?” John scolds, his head tilting to the side as he observes your face. Lips twisting into a smirk as he continues,

“Is it a man? Is a man making you all flustered that you can’t think straight?” Your eyes widen in shock, tearing your gaze away from his, fearing that he’ll be able to see the truth in your eyes. He jerks your chin slightly.

“Tsk tsk, Y/N. Eyes on me.” He scolds. Your eyes immediately find his again, sparks shooting up your spine. Something flashes across his face, and he leans in closer, his lips inches away from yours.

“That’s a good girl, so obedient.” He muses, the smile on his face nothing short of predatory. A shaky breath escapes your lips, a flame igniting in your stomach. You can feel his breath fan across your face, his cologne completely invading your senses. When you say nothing he smirks and continues.

“So who is he? Hmm? Who is the man that’s occupying that pretty mind of yours?” He coos, leaning closer, his hand falling away from your chin. His lips so close to yours you could feel his beard tickling your skin. All you could think of was how good they would feel. You glance down at his lips before locking eyes with him once again. You’re frozen in place, brain short circuiting from the situation.

“Tell me, tell me who’s distracting you, Love.” John says softly, his nose bumping against yours slightly. His pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing.

“You.” You whisper and the second the words leave your mouth, his lips are pressed against yours. They dance together slowly, John's hand cupping the base of your neck to pull you closer. You melt into the kiss, gasping when he gently bites your lip. He takes advantage of this and slides his tongue into your mouth, exploring and tasting you, as he deepens the kiss. You tangle your hands into his hair, softly moaning. Suddenly you’re off the chair as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and his hands grabbing your ass. He walks you to the desk, clearing a spot off with his arm, before setting you down on top of it. John pulls away slightly, leaving your mind reeling and your chest heaving.

“Such a pretty little thing.” He coos, before bringing his lips to yours once again. His right hand grips your waist tightly. The other trailing up your side before grasping a handful of your hair and pulling your head to the side, his lips kissing, and nipping at your neck. Heat pools in your abdomen. You’re becoming more and more aroused with every second that passes, hardly able to restrain yourself from ripping his clothes off.

“Captain…” You moan, tilting your neck even further to give him better access. His lips stop their motions on your neck, releasing his grip on your hair, he raises his head to look at you.

“I’m not your captain here Darling. I’m John. Not Bravo SIx, not Captain, just John. Alright?.” He says sternly, staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

“Okay Cap- John. Okay John.” You say, nodding your head. Desperate to feel his lips on you once again. You squirm on the desk, silently begging him to continue to touch you, your wetness seeping into your underwear.

“Fuck, my name sounds so good coming from that pretty mouth, Love.” John groans, stepping closer to you.

Dipping his head down he captures your lips with his, moving against yours languidly, pulling every coherent thought out of your head. Your hands trail to his waist and you tug at the hem. Taking the hint, he slides off his shirt and you unabashedly stare at his muscular torso. Your hand reaches up and touches his pec before tracing down across his abs, following that sinful trail of hair. Before you can continue with your exploratory touches, John grabs the bottom of your shirt and pulls it over your head. Reaching behind yourself, you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor, exposing your bare breasts to him. He lets out a low groan at the sight, his rough and calloused hands immediately cupping and kneading the soft flesh.

“Fuuck darling, such gorgeous tits.” John rasps, and dips his head down to start kissing your breasts before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and his hand playing with the other. You throw your head back as you let out a soft moan and slightly arch your back. His cock stiffening and straining against his jeans at your sounds. He licks, and nips your breasts for a while before pulling back, his hand cupping your cheek as he looks into your eyes.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Love. I want to take you to my bed and worship your body, but I can’t withhold myself from you any longer. I need to taste you, to feel your body against me, right fucking now.” John says, his voice heavy and laced with desire.

“Please, John, I want you too, so badly.” You plead. Reaching forward and hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer to you. John's eyes glaze over as he feels your fingers tug at his belt. His hands find their way down your body, tracing your curves as a smile spreads across his face. Making quick work of your buttons he slides your pants down as you lift your hips to help him. Your skin burns with every graze of his fingers, his entire presence consuming your every thought. You feel yourself growing wet for him, your body craving every touch. John's hands trail up your thighs and caress your hips, taunting and teasing. You move your hips towards him, desperate to feel his hands on your dripping cunt. John lets out a dark chuckle at your movements, placing his fingers on your clothed core. Lightly pressing down and moving agonizingly slow.

“Ohh Darling, you’ve soaked through your underwear. Are you that desperate already?” John coos at you, putting more pressure onto your clit through the fabric. You let out a whine and shift your hips again, yearning for more friction.

“Please John… No teasing… I need more.” You breathe. Reaching forward, you palm the hard bulge in his pants eliciting a hiss from his lips. He swiftly slides your underwear off and immediately is on his knees looking up at you, his hands gripping your thighs tightly.

“Need to taste you Sweetheart, be a good girl and spread your legs. Let me taste your sweet pussy.” John demands in a low voice. Slowly you spread your legs further apart for him, his cock is hard and throbbing at the sight of your glistening pussy. He’s nearly drooling as he sees you all exposed and bare for him. Placing kisses along your thigh he works his way to your core, sticking his tongue out and licks a stripe up your wet pussy, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. Groaning at the taste of you, he keeps his head buried in your thighs, licking and sucking at your clit. Soft moans are falling from your lips, his tongue making the flame in your stomach erupt into an inferno. John raises his head, his lips wet with you, you let out a whine from the lack of contact.

“I promise, next time, I'll make you come on my tongue until you beg me to stop. Ya taste so sweet, but I need to be buried deep inside you. Need to get you ready for my cock okay Darling? ” John says before slowly dragging two of his fingers through your folds, gathering your slick on them before gently pushing them into you. Your back arches and you gasp at the intrusion. Two of his fingers stretch you out as he pushes them in and out as he starts to kiss and suck on your neck. Soft moans erupt from your throat, completely focused on the feeling of pleasure he is giving you. Speeding up his fingers, he starts to curl them just right to hit that spongy spot inside you. A loud moan escapes you, you slap a hand over your mouth to try and keep quiet.

John can feel his cock, painfully hard, leaking against his pants. Your sweet moans mixed with the sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy is music to his ears. He is so desperate to feel you wrapped around him, it's almost unbearable. Moving his thumb in circles against your clit, you clench around his fingers, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter.

“Come on baby, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum all over my hand.” John murmurs against your neck, he curls his fingers once more and sends you barreling over the edge. Your body tenses up as a strangled cry rips through your throat. Waves of pleasure coursing through you. John continues to move his fingers, working you through your high before slowly removing them and bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean.

Reaching forward you undo his pants and push them and his boxers down, causing his cock to spring free. Eyes widening as you take him in, his cock is long and thick, his tip flushed and leaking pre-cum. You wrap your hand around him and slowly move up and down his hard shaft, causing a low moan to escape John. You try to move off the desk and onto your knees but he grabs your waist and places you back on the desk.

“That’s going to have to wait for another time, Love. I need to be inside of you.” John groans, stepping out of his pants and kicking them to the side. He drags the tip up and down your slit, coating it with your arousal, before slowly pushing in. You moan as you feel him fill you with his big cock. John covers your mouth with his, kissing you to try and muffle the moans that are coming from both of you. Your hands grabbing his biceps to try and ground yourself. As he fills you to the hilt, he stops, allowing you to become accustomed to the size of him.

“Fuck baby, your pussy feels so good. Squeezing me so tight.” He gasps, his hands on your hips, holding you flush against him. John was consumed by the feel of you around him, gripping his cock so tight.

“Please move John, fuck me.” You plead, moving your hips as much as you can, pulling a low groan from John.

“How could I refuse when you asked so nicely.” John coos at you. Slowly he pulls almost all the way out before sliding back in. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel every thick inch of him split you apart. Soon John picks up the pace thrusting into you faster, his grip on your hips tight and near bruising. You kiss him again fervently as his cock rails into you, brushing that sweet spot deep within. You claw at his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist, to be as close to him as possible.

“Shit, John. That feels so fucking good, don’t stop!” You cry, completely lost in the pleasure already.

“That’s a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well Sweetheart.” John praises, his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. He was absolutely obsessed with the feeling of his thick cock sliding into you, the feel of your fingernails scratching his back, and the sounds of pleasure coming from you. Abruptly he pulls out, pulls you off the desk, and turns you around. A gasp escapes you as he pushes down on your back so your hands are braced on the desk and your back is arched away from him, ass on display.

“Oh this ass, look at this fucking ass,” John says, giving it a smack, “You’re gonna be the death of me Love.” He smacks your ass once more before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing in again, causing you to moan and arch your back even more. John begins a brutal pace, thrusting into you fast and hard, with his hands gripping your hips again.. His tip kisses your cervix every time he bottoms out, making you moan louder and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“That’s it baby, doing such a good job for me. Taking it so well, such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” John praises, leaning forward to grab a handful of your hair and pulling your head up. You’re completely cockdrunk, unable to form a coherent sentence, his praises making you clench around him. The knot in your stomach returns, tightening as your orgasm builds with every thrust.

“Oh you like that don’t you? Getting told you’re doing so well for me? You like hearing how you’re a good little whore?” John groans against your ear. You can only moan in response, which John doesn’t appreciate so he smacks your ass again.

“No no Darling, I want to hear how much you like it. Go on baby, use your words.” He coos against your ear.

“Yes!” You gasp out, “So good John, please don’t stop!”

“Oooh that’s my good girl.” He growls in your ear. He can feel his own orgasm growing, the feeling of your wet pussy clenched around him is driving him insane. John moves the hand on your hip down to your clit, rubbing small circles on it. You throw your head back as a choked moan escapes you, John’s name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

“I’m so close, John, please let me cum, please!” You cry out, the pleasure coursing through your veins becoming almost unbearable.

“Come on baby, let go, cum all over my cock.” John groans, his own orgasm nearing its peak as he continues to thrust into you at a fast pace. As soon as the words leave his lips your orgasm washes over you, your walls clamp down on his dick as he fucks you through your high. Your fluttering walls cause his orgasm to tear through him, a loud groan erupting from his throat as he finishes and stills inside you.

The only sound in the room is the labored breaths, as the both of you come back down to earth. Your knees threaten to buckle underneath you so John pulls out and cleans the two of you up before helping you slide your pants back on and setting you down on the small couch in his office. He brings you your shirt and gets dressed himself before sitting beside you.

“I gotta go back to work, Love, but I’ll come see you tonight, if that’s what you would like?” John says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I would like that a lot.” You say softly, getting up on shaky knees and pulling him in for a kiss. You pull away and begin to walk out of his office when he grabs your waist, presses himself against your back and places his lips on the shell of your ear.

“I’ll see you tonight then, Darling, but don’t think I forgot about disciplining you for your distracted behavior.” John whispers in your ear before smacking your ass as you walk out the door. You hurry back to your room before anyone can see you leaving John’s office with swollen lips, messy hair and an excited smile across your face.

(There will be a part two)

#john price #john price x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod smut #john price smut #smut #call of duty #call of duty smut #captain john price #captain jonathan price #captain John price smut

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l0velylecter · 1 year

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Hi ! I see your headcanon "random dude getting aggressive", can I ask it for Price and Gaz please ?

— the cod : mw men + being protective ! [vol.ii] characters : captain john price, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii tags : gn!reader, headcanons, drabble rating : t for teen and up audiences , minor descriptions of violence, sfw!

01| He knew he should've been the one to go out and get coffee. You had insisted on buying it, telling him that driving for hours must have been exhausting; a quick coffee run was the least you could do. So when he saw you by the rearview mirror getting hit on by a creep and then verbally harassed for turning him down, Gaz practically shoved the car door open to interfere. His hands curled around the lapels of the shorter man, holding him in place while his voice lowered with a threat. Once the man raised his hand in defeat, spewing about how he didn't want any trouble, Gaz had let him go with one last shove; only walking away cause you told him it wasn't worth it. By the time you returned to the car, the coffee was already cold — his attention focused on you instead. Eyes apologetic even if it wasn't his fault. " Next time, I'm getting coffee. Clear?" You bit the inside of your cheek to hold your smile, already feeling better. His hand, reassuring on your thigh. " Clear." 02| You've seen Price frustrated, his head in between his hands, hunched over the table. You've even seen him angry: chairs flipped over at the knowledge that Shepherd's been lying to them this whole time. But you've never seen him furious like this — the rage rippling off him in waves, silent yet overbearing; you would've thought the temperature in the room had dropped. His grip against the man's hand was vice, grounding the man who had verbally cussed you out in place. Price's eyes flickered to yours, checking if you were injured, asking if you were okay. Once you nodded, he lowered himself to the Major's face, not caring if he was talking to a fellow higher-up officer. " If you think you're going to fucking get away with this, you're wrong."

The next day you heard the Major lost his job, and when the news broke out, you tried not to make eye contact with Price from across the dining hall: knowing that he'd stare right back at you.

a/n : hi anon ! sorry this is super short, but i hope you enjoy it ! thank you for requesting, i had a fun time writing about these two as always. happy holidays <3

the cod : mw men + being protective ! [vol.i]

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #call of duty imagine #call of duty fanfic #call of duty headcanon #call of duty headcanons #cod hc #cod hcs #captain price #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #captain jonathan price #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #fluff

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 3 months

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First Times (Poly Relationship w/ John & Ghost Headcanons)

I spent the morning exploring Hackney, which is rich in breweries. While wandering about, I got to thinking, what if…

John starts working at a brewery when he retires from the army?

OR!

He starts a micro brewery/pub with Simon, who retires around the same time.

🍺 The two men set to work immediately to acquire the proper licenses and a premise. Fortunately for the both of them, they’re quite handy and so know how to create a lovely, albeit very manly, space without too much interference from contractors. After all, why hire others for work you can do yourself?

🍺 Honestly, the business is a dream come true for John. Owning a micro brewery was his Plan B should things not work out with the army. However, it’s because of his former employment, he’s become a better business owner. It’s through the development of his leadership and risk-assessment skills he managed to secure the rank of captain.

🍺 For Simon, the brewery is an unexpected ambition, a new dream to follow. While he lets John do most of the marketing (because Simon can’t be arsed with social media… being social in general), he’s mostly pre-occupied with the creation of new and improvement of the already existing craft beers.

🍺 The business steadily grows as word gets about town. Soon, it’s not only the local Hackney residents who pop by, but also people from other boroughs.

🍺 Including you.

🍺 Come from Inner London, the people of the area find you somewhat of a posh puppy, a bit of a toff. It’s this view of you which makes them wonder what on Earth you’re doing in East London, this artsy and not as affluent part of the city.

🍺 Nevertheless, you’re a sight for sore eyes if you ask Simon, who’s your old neighbour back from the few years you lived in Manchester after moving there with your parents.

🍺 Though gruff and distant in the beginning, Simon gradually warmed up to you. Despite never opening up emotionally, you two did develop a strong amiable bond. Maybe because you were the only one to greet him on the street, to ask about his career after catching a glimpse of the dog tag around his neck, to welcome him back each time he was deployed.

🍺 To show sincere interest in him.

🍺 Your parents weren’t a fan of you socializing with the giant in the skull balaclava, but they never told you off for it since you two always seemed to have a good time. Moreover, they rarely saw you smile unless you were with him. So they let it slide, prioritizing your happiness over their prejudice.

🍺 It was only in the spring before you moved without telling him where to and he was deployed yet again, Simon realized he had feelings for you. Nonetheless, he put them aside or, rather, suppressed them until they numbed. He had nothing to offer, fifteen years your elder and terribly haunted.

🍺 So imagine his surprise and absolute delight when you stand in front of him, prettier than he can remember. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

🍺 “Y/N,” it’s the only thing he can say, finally out loud after years of uttering it in silence.

🍺 “Who’s this fair lady?” John slides up next to Simon, arms crossed as he takes you in. His sea blue eyes darken when they meet yours. “How can we help, miss?”

🍺 The way he practically purrs the words sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Yet, you conceal the effect he has on you behind a steady voice. “I saw the notice on the window, about the open position. Has it been filled in the meanwhile or can I still apply?”

🍺 “She’s a good one, John. Hardworking, trustworthy, kind. Fast learner too,” Simon says pensively.

🍺 “Got experience in the field?” John asks.

🍺 “Studied psychology, during which I mostly focused on the effect of marketing on the human psyche. Also run a food blog and Instagram”

🍺 “Thank Simon properly before you leave. I trust his judgment and seeing he knows you best, I’ll take his word for it.” He slaps his business partner on the shoulder. “Drop by tomorrow and we’ll discuss your contract. I’m looking forward to working with you…”

🍺 “Y/N.”

🍺 “Y/N...” John repeats thoughtfully. Then he hums and heads off.

🍺 Thus begins a series of firsts and connections as you settle down in Hackney.

🍺 Over the course of a few weeks, the locals come to see you as one of their own as you show them you simply aren’t some girl with rich parents, a spoiled princess, but a young woman trying to make a life for herself with her own hard-earned money via helping at the counter and striking up conversations.

🍺 John and you grow closer too. He admires and respects your eye for detail and aesthetics, though sometimes he feels a little awkward when you’re trying to direct him for the occasional TikTok. Nevertheless, it’s your creativity that keeps drawing him in, igniting the need to keep getting closer to you. What also helps is you bringing him coffee or reminding him to take breaks (both with a kiss on the cheek later down the line).

🍺 Loves to review the content you create together, especially when you’re in his lap while doing so.

🍺 On your mutual days off, John drags you all over London to visit bakeries and cafés. Never had you thought him a foodie, though it’s a pleasant discovery since there’s always something new to experience on the food scene. Moreover, he loves helping you out with your own blog, not just the one you created for the brewery.

🍺 These days, you’re teaching him photography and are taking baking classes together. Although, you might as well go on your own to the latter because he’s a terrible baker (unlike Simon, who’s self-taught and surprisingly good, like, sale-appropriate why-doesn’t-he-have-at-least-a-micro-bakery good).

🍺 Your bond with Simon mostly rekindles via being his guinea pig. He knows how brutally honest you can be in your feedback, which he thoroughly appreciates. Outside work, the two of you frequent bookshops, have picnics in the major parks in London, and visit the city’s oldest cemeteries. The latter is a bit of a morbid idea of a nice outing, but you appreciate the silence and romantic sense of decay in the air.

🍺 It isn’t long before you take up residence in the apartment the two men share, which leaves the other residents of the building wondering about your relationships to one another. Although, they can guess at the nature of it seeing the “noise” at night. As I said, lots of first including a relationship with two men older than you.

🍺 But aside from the plethora of sensual moments, there are also plenty of tender (and domestic) firsts. For example, Simon accompanies you to your first tattoo appointment. When, the next day, you’re struck by tattoo flu, he takes care of you. Of course John doesn’t force you to come to work nor Simon for that matter, who you clearly need at the moment (despite claiming otherwise). Henceforth, you’re both granted PTO until you’re back on your feet.

🍺 Speaking of the former-captain, John is your very first kiss. You and him went out for pizza (Simon preferring to stay home and read). On the way to Hackney Wick, beneath a bridge heavily decorated with graffiti and sheltering a few barges, he put his hands on your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. He tasted of tobacco and white wine, laced with the sweetness of tomatoes and basil. That night, he made love to you.

🍺 Another first.

🍺 Simon prepared breakfast the next morning, serving food to ensure John and you wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion later in the day. Nor him, for that matter, because while he doesn’t get jealous and loves sharing you with his best friend, he sometimes wishes you wouldn’t go at it till early in the morning when the next day is an ordinary work day.

🍺 You’re there for them when either of them suffers from night terrors or combat stress. Simon is more prone to the former, whereas John is to the latter.

🍺 You accompany Simon to therapy too after he’s been diagnosed with PTSD. At first he didn’t want to go, refused it even, until he finally relented after another episode of flashbacks and coming to his senses while shaking in your arms.

🍺 Life with John and Simon isn’t always easy nor romantic.

🍺 But bloody hell, do they make it better.

#CoD #CoD x Reader #John Price #Ghost x Reader #Simon Riley #John Price x Reader #Simon Riley x Reader #Simon Ghost Riley #Captain John Price #Captain Jonathan Price #Captain John Price x Reader #Ghost CoD #CoD MW Ghost

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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mafesti · 2 months

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In sickness and in health, remember?

Pairing(s): John Price x GN! Reader

Summary: Your husband gets sick and he doesn't want to admit it. Luckily, you're there to help him, even though he's being stubborn about it.

Word Count: 5158

Warning(s): None, pure fluff

A/N: I'm sorry if it's bad or short, or anything else in the matter :( I'm still new to this fan fiction stuff (as in my first blown one-shot that I didn't abandon), and English isn't my first language too. But please enjoy! I'm sorry once again if there's potentially any other fanfics like this, I have no means to copy them. 🫶

⋆ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

You and your dear husband, John, have been married together for 4 years, and it has been a truly beautiful relationship for both of you. Although you have always noticed that John tends to get sick from time to time, especially when he's getting older (don't say that to him though, or he'll be terribly mad at you).

But this time was different.

You noticed that he was hiding something from you, most likely because he didn't want to worry you (even though you were already worried and soon-to-be developing a mild heart attack for him whenever he was out for deployment anyways).

You walked into your shared room, deciding not to knock, just this once. Noticing your presence, he looks up from his stack of never ending paperwork that was on his table.

"Love, what did I say to you about knocking?" He tried to answer you in his typical, gruff voice, but you knew him well enough to notice a hint of exhaustion behind those words.

His face was pale, and his breath seemed shallow. You could tell something was wrong.

"John, are you alright?" You ask with a frown on your face.

"No, I'm perfectly fine!" he said, refusing to admit anything. "I'm just a little tired, that's all," he added, hoping you'd let it go.

But you knew him too well even before marriage, and you knew something was seriously wrong with him.

"No, John, you look like you're about to pass out. You look sick since when? Yesterday? You're way beyond 'just tired," you argued back.

"I'm fine, really, it's nothing serious at all!" he tried to convince you, but you were having none of it.

"John, you're pale and sweating, and you've potentially got a fever. You're not 'fine."

He huffed a bit, but then admitted, "Alright, maybe I am a little under the weather, but it's really nothing serious. Just a small cold, nothing I can't deal with."

You let out a very desperate sigh (which shows your current condition with Price) while shaking your head. 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯. You thought to yourself. You got behind him and placed your hands on his shoulder, and he immediately got the memo of what you were going to do.

"Sweetheart, you really don't have to.." He sighed, but you ignored him. You began massaging his shoulders, pressing the knots out while chastising him.

"John, c'mon, let's not pretend this is a small cold." You chastised him gently.

He lets out a groan and gave in into the soothing feeling, dropping everything that he was doing earlier. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥. He thought with a small sigh leaving his lips.

"Okay, okay.. maybe you're right." He admitted. "But I'll just lie down for a bit and I'll be as good as new."

You knew it was for the best, even if he was being stubborn and tried to protest. You led him over to the bed, helping him lie down as he gave a few soft murmurs of thanks. You checked his temperature, which came up at 39-40 degrees celcius, a moderate grade fever.

"See," You showed him the thermometer.

"It's clear you're way beyond this 'small cold' you've been claiming," you scolded him with a satisfied look on your face after you've proved him wrong. He muttered something under his breath, but eventually conceded that he needed some rest.

You carefully drape the blanket over his chest, making sure to keep him warm and comfortable. You left him alone for a bit and came back with a bucket of water with a small towel in it. You then took the damp towel and gently placed it on his forehead, trying to lower his fever as much as possible.

"Now rest, and let me get some soup for you," you instructed him. He grumbled something yet again, but finally nodded and did as you said.

You did as you promised, returning to the kitchen shortly after to make a soup that would be sure to help his recovery. You also added some hot tea with honey and lemon juice, a classic remedy for whenever someone is sick.

You returned to the bedroom with the soup and tea on a tray. Seeing the tray full of supposedly filled medicine, John slowly sat up and leaned his back to the headboard, getting into a comfortable position. You made sure John kept drinking and eating it, and when he was done you put the tray on the nightstand beside the bed.

Slowly but surely, his fever dropped and his color returned. After a short while, he began to fall asleep from exhaustion.

You were just about to head out of the room, but John gently grabbed your wrist with the last ounce of strength he had left, mumbling a quiet "Stay."

Even though you knew he needed his rest, your heart melted at the way he held your wrist so gently. For a moment you hesitated, but if it meant him getting the rest he needed, you'll happily stay with him till' he gets better.

"I'll be right back, love," you whispered softly, giving his hand one last lingering squeeze.

You closed the curtain and turned off the lights, creating a comfortable and low-lit atmosphere. Then you gently climbed into bed with him, finding a cozy spot and wrapping a blanket around the two of you. You leaned close to him, nuzzling against his shoulder and pulling him into you, feeling his presence and feeling comfortable and safe.

Finally, you both closed your eyes and rested as you slowly fell asleep together.

#call of duty #cod #john price #john price cod #captain john price #captain jonathan price #john price x male reader #john price x female reader #john price x reader #john price x you #x reader #gn reader #fluff #I was in need for fluff #so I wrote this #god i love him #more coming soon #i promise #shellwrites

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baby-jaguar · 6 months

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Part 1: Meeting John Price

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 3,131 CW: None

AN: My beloved! John Price! Would love to hear your thoughts and comments, as well as any questions. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the following for the explanation and precursors to the scene!

Introduction, Biography

--------

Truthfully, you’re glad you didn't have many friends in town, as it meant no one to share unnecessary secrets with, nor did it spread any word of what you were up to in your free time.

However, that isn’t to say that you trusted at least some people in the small town you lived in, such as your boss.

A scapegoat for you to write your correspondence letters was that you simply had to stay late on the farm, working extra long hours because of something that was messed up, or because you knew your parents wouldn’t argue with the fact that you were getting more money.

Feeling that you were a decent enough candidate for John to consider since you are working as a farm hand already, you decided to write your first correspondence the next day. Once sent, you received a letter back from him four days later and by god, did he sound like such a gentleman.

You were able to soon confide in him on how you wanted to leave town, start fresh, but stick with what you know since you did work on the well-known “Loyal Laswell Farm,” and help out around their farmhouse with common jobs such as sewing, cooking, and even making a dirty barn looked organized- a man’s dream spouse.

With only two weeks passing and less than a handful of letters to be traded, you already had money and an open invitation to John’s ranch. Through your correspondence, John stated that he had already known of Kate Laswell, her having been a long ago buyer from him and even she had sought out advice on taking care of her lambs long ago.

John connected the dots and realized that you were the trusty youngling that she hired early on; He already trusted your morale if Laswell had kept you after all this time. (And if Laswell did gloat about you once in a while, that was a secret between her and John.) After finding out about the mutual connection, you confided in her.

Kate, already knowing of your family’s vices, was pleasantly surprised by your major turn of life events and how quickly your fate had been granted to you in the form of Price. She made sure your head was screwed on straight enough that if it didn’t work out, you could mail her and she would help you figure it out from there…

Kate’s wife chimed in and said you and Price would be a great fit.

The two women gave their aid to you in the form of gifting you your favorite horse to ride off on during your long journey. You only brought a handful of items from your parent's house, slowly, and used the remaining amounts of wardrobe you kept at the farm to pack up. With two bags packed and some food, feed, a gun being courtesy of Laswell’s wife, and a celebratory pack of cigars for John (Kate’s wedding gift), you were on your way.

It only took you a week by horseback, luckily traveling near the Oregon Trail that had already had sorted paths cleared and lived-in, you only needed to stop when you and your horse did. You were able to send John updated letters, but were not able to receive them due to constantly being on the move. This left you daydreaming about him.

John wrote that he is originally from Deadwood, South Dakota. He comes from a long line of lawmen and followed in their footsteps in his early adult life. However, as John became sheriff and notorious for his hardened but fair demeanor, he began to see the justice system slip through the cracks right in front of him. Murderers would walk away and many left unjustly prosecuted in other cases. It angered and dwelled on him so much that he retired early on. John soon found his solace in the quiet mountain town of Pitkin, Colorado. John describes himself as a proud man who is protective and respectful, an old soul who loves his whiskey - and is looking for his strawberry wine. He is a weathered man who can fix any problems of yours, all at the cost of a shoulder to lean on and someone to spend the rest of his days with.

Coming into Pitkin, it brings forth a small town nestled within luscious green mountains and a strip of shops down the main road that highlights most of the town's activity. Riding through, you were an obvious sight to be had; a new face set out on a horse with minimal bags packed on the back. You didn’t seem like a traveler, no, you seemed like someone who was on a mission to find something- someone.

Smiling and giving small nods towards those who stare, your cheeks have a faint blush from the attention as you ride down the strip and toward the end of the town. Soon, the signs have a label of a bull, a common connotation of a ranch, causing you to garner up a bit more hope and hold your head high as you click your horse into a canter.

The sound of your horse's hooves thundering on the ground cannot beat the thrum of your heart; riding over the hill, you’re greeted with a breathtaking view of the Alpine mountains that dip into a valley with an absurd amount of leveled planes that make you believe the land was spread flat by an inviting entity. Your eyes come into focus on small black dots that move before you make out to be the shape of cattle grazing across the green and flowing grass.

There sits a house atop the hill that is before the dip of the valley, where a fence surrounds a large barn that is directly adjacent to the house. You bring your horse to a slow walk as you take in the view of the wooden house; it's a cabin-styled home but large in the additions that have been formed around the sides, making it one of the bigger houses in town. The barn rivals its size by double, and the open stalls along the side let you glimpse into the hay-filled homes of horses that linger near the fences. You have to do a double take when you see movement in the barn that is all too human-like, then pulling the reigns of your horse once a few feet away from the entrance to stop and watch.

A man stands, low grunts leaving him as he stretches his back before grabbing a hay bayle and beginning to break it up. He wears a worn-out pair of jeans and a cowboy hat as his low whistling breaks the silence between the surrounding horses neighing at your new appearance. In an instant, you know immediately this is John.

To your surprise, your horse greets the others in a sharp jeer of noise, causing him to turn around in surprise his eyes dart up at you.

For a second, you’re humored at the look he gives, not expecting something so sweet as you to ride into his ranch and most likely expecting someone within the town to come to bother him.

But in an instant, he knows exactly who you are.

After his shock wears off, he sets down the hay and reaches up to take his cowboy hat off and place it on his chest as he walks toward you. Letting out a low whistle, his eyes roam over you with an enamored stare. “God was just showin’ off when he made you, sweetheart.” Comes the low timbre of his voice, sending a small fire of desire shimmying through your vertebrae.

A soft smile graces your face in return, halting your horse for the time being as he comes up to you. “Good morning sir, would I be right to assume that you are John Price, the owner of this ranch?” You ask after a moment of your eyes trailing over him, taking in his face and ice-blue eyes while he approaches to help you down from your horse.

“That I am, Sweetheart. And I suppose you’re the one that I’ve been lookin’ so forward to meetin’, that right?” He asks in return, a small smirk taking his lips while he helps you lower down from the saddle. You smile at the extended hand, taking it as you swing your opposite leg out of the stirrup while feeling the touch of his other hand coming to caress your hip in a gentle fashion.

"I hope you've been as comfortable as one can be on a week-long ride," John comments softly, keeping his hand on you once you're firmly planted on the ground as his eyes scan you from head to toe. "How you feelin’?" He asks sweetly, now finding your eyes with genuine affection in his tone.

In response to his lingering touch on your hip, and feeling it travel to your waist with a brief squeeze before he lets it fall, you give him a small squeeze of the hand you're holding to. “Not too shabby; was able to get a room a few of the nights along the way. I’m thankful for the good weather I had while getting here.” You respond as you shift your saddle-sore hips for a moment and reorient your limbs to standing.

"You're not so shabby yourself, sweet thing'." He compliments softly as he releases you, then grabs your horse’s bridle and releases the bit before attaching his own lead to it, and a small feeling of surprise crosses your mind at how easily he handles new horses. Then, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on. Let me show you around." John leads with comfortable confidence, letting your horse sniff him while leading him to an open stall with some water and feed.

“Thank you for letting me bring my stallion here, Laswell gifted him to me when I was sayin’ goodbye. Said you may remember him from when he was a foal?” You prompt with a tilt of curiosity at the edge of your words while you join them in the stall to unload your bags and take the saddle off.

Looking back towards him, his eyes are looking over the horse for any identifiers, hints that would make him remember. “Not quite sure I remember this one, sweetheart. He got a name?” John asks in response once finished doing a sweepdown of his mane and a quick swipe of his hair coat.

“Laswell said he’s always been named Captain.” You answer curtly, now looking to see his reaction, if any.

It takes a moment for you to narrow in on the way the left side of his mustache twitches slightly before he breaks out into an all-out smile. “Well, I’ll be damned…” John trails out as he moves back towards Captain's head.

His blue eyes shine in the light of the barn windows, meeting yours for a moment while a boyish charm takes over his face. “This slick bastard got you all the way over to me?” John speaks with a gruffness that intertwines with amusement; the way his hands move to rub over the horse's forehead and nose showcases a glimpse of a gentle side reserved for his animals.

As you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, John catches your expression and gives a hearty chuckle in response. “I helped birth this one the day that Kate came up here to buy some lambs. Her wife was cryin’, thinking that him and his momma were gonna die.” He answers before moving to give Captain a pat on his chest, a huff of his breath coming out in response.

“He had both him’s front legs back during contractions. Had to help the mare by pushing his fat head on in to get him to readjust. Kate and her wife saw the whole thing.” He finishes with a hum and a distant look in his eyes only for a second, now coming back to your side and picking up a bag of yours.

“This all you got? Woulda expected a bit more from a woman movin' out west, especially to the cold mountains.” He states with a cocked eyebrow, eyeing as you bend down to hoist the remaining bag over your shoulder. You both give Captain a farewell tap before exiting the stall and heading towards Johns's house.

You wait on replying for a moment as you take a longer look at the structure, noting the wooden panels that exude a warm and weathered patina, a testament to the house's endurance against the harsh elements of the wild. The front features a symmetrical facade, with a steeply pitched gable roof that displays a combination of wooden shingles and iron accents. Windows are evenly placed on the front-facing sides of the house, and shutters open to allow glimpses into the inside.

“Didn’t have a lot to bring if I’m being honest. Just packed up what I liked and wanted, then left.” You answer with a confident nod, leaving it at that. “I did plan on finding some new or old fabrics to start making winter coats for myself.” You add on quickly, thinking over how quickly the chill must set in within the mountain valley.

You follow John onto the front porch of the house, “Ah, you do some of that fancy work or just plain work?” He inquires while gesturing for you to step inside the entrance. You’re greeted by a spacious entryway, designed to be practical and modest. The floors, made of polished wide planks, creak softly under the added weight of yourself next to John, a new soul to provide protection to in the house.

To the front of the entryway, is his living room, its centerpiece being a grand stone fireplace, providing warmth and comfort during the chilly evenings. Leather upholstered furniture invites warmth to the house, and you can see a good amount of hides used as a rug and even a throw blanket over the couch, while ornate coffee cans and some intricately shaped vases linger around the surfaces.

The sound of your mouth opening and closing resonates in the silence of you two standing there before John shuts the door softly behind you and ultimately snaps you out of your daze. “Um, just some plain work. Never had the time or materials to work on some fancy clothes, would rather make things I know I’m gonna use.” You answer while moving to face adjacent to where he stands in front of the door.

His eyes track your own as your attention comes back to rest on him, a small smirk tugging on the edge of his mouth. With a quick laugh, he moves to place his left hand along your back, his cold fingers sliding to the place between your shoulders. “Welcome home, Sweetheart.” He smiles while speaking softly, leaning over to place a light kiss atop your head.

When he moves back from your space, which you want to ultimately follow as you feel his warmth radiate next to you and already adore the way his voice dips impossibly lower when speaking so gently, his hand slides down to the small of your back and gives a small tap to lead you forward. “Come on, let's get you settled in.” He beckons you while walking to a door that is adjacent to the entrance.

Walking in, John’s bedroom exudes a haven, signifying his rest and relaxation at the end of the day. The warm, earthy tones of the wood and furniture create an internal warmth, in contrast to the view of the surrounding mountains of green and glimpse over the cattle that wander the land, the windows laden with lace curtains.

The bed was the average size for the master bedroom; The double bed sat its headboard against the wall to the right of the entrance, facing the windows. A large red quilt adorns the bed while the bed itself is a robust wooden frame with upright pieces of carved and sanded wood posted taller at each corner of the bed.

In the corner is another stone fireplace, where an armchair sits to serve as a place for John to unwind, read a book, or reflect on the day. A well-worn wooden dresser stands against one wall, its surface adorned with a few cherished mementos - a faded photograph of him on a horse, a weathered pocket watch that has seen countless sunsets, and a small collection of polished rocks, each one possibly a reminder of a special moment.

"It's not much." He pauses before speaking again, his tone becoming more personal. "And I'd love to have you share my bed when you're comfortable. However, if you need time to adjust, I can set myself up in the living room. I don't wish to pressure you if you're not comfortable yet."

The sweet and respectful offer doesn’t fly over you, and a small smile rises over your lips. “Thank you, John. That’s awfully considerate of everything you’re doing for me. I don’t want to burden you with sleeping on your own couch, I wouldn't mind.” You answer while slowly walking to the dresser, placing your bag down by the foot of it.

“It may take a few days to adjust and get to know you, but-” you take a second to turn around and look at his form with a small shy smile, “I don’t think I’ll keep you waiting long.” You finish as a soft blush rises to the apples of your cheeks. Your hands come to interlace together in the front of your lap as his heavy footsteps make their way towards you with a bright smile that borders a smirk.

He stops in front of you, holding eye contact as he places your other bag down. “Ain’t no way in hell I’d be letting you sleep on the couch, sweetheart. But, I do look forward to hearing your answer. When you’re ready for it.” He speaks in a gruff voice, eyebrows raised to make sure you're taking his answer to heart and understanding, his warm hands moving to enclose both of yours within his grasp.

Bringing your hands up to his lips, you watch with rapt attention at his mouth puckering and in turn, making his facial hair move in the action, then leaving a warm and gentle kiss on the back of each hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours while doing so, his blue eyes bring an inviting wave of ice- the kind you actively seek when you’re feeling too hot or need to wake up. “Now, how about I show you the rest of the ranch, babydoll?” He asks with a soft grin, pulling you just a fraction closer by the grip of your hands.

#i want him #call of duty modern warfare #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #tf141 #captain jonathan price #jonathan price #captain price x reader #captain price mw2 #captain price #captain price x y/n #cod mw2 #call of duty #WAUMOST #task force 141 #john price x y/n #john price mw2 #john price x you

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temeyes · 1 year

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reached 2k+ followers here the other day!! here’s a quick price dood i made to thank y’all!! (a mildly spicy ver. on twt too ehe)

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femalefemur · 2 months

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#captain price #captain john price #john price #captain jonathan price #jonathan price #cod

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ragingbookdragon · 3 months

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The door opens and he holds up the bottle of wine first with a yielding smile. “I brought wine this time.” He then holds up the roses. “Now you have two dozen red roses.”

She gives him an unimpressed look and he wants to falter, but he doesn’t.

“I can order Thai?”

“I thought I told you that you weren’t welcome here?” She replies and he reaches up with the hand holding the wine and scratches his neck with the tip of his pointer—he’s nervous.

“Maybe I should’ve brought the Thai too.”

She lets out a heavy sigh and turns to let him in. “I’d be an awful person to leave such a pitiful man outside like a kicked puppy.”

He snorts and follows, kicking the door closed with his foot as he steps into the living room.

“I’m going to go put something more comfortable on.”

His eyes trail up her legs to the hem of her nightie and he quips, “No, no, I wouldn’t dream of it.” When he sees the slits her eyes have become, he coughs. “I’m going to go put these roses in a vase.”

“Second shelf—’

“On the top left cabinet,” he throws her a smile. “I know.”

As she disappears into her bedroom, he hurries to the kitchen, grabs a vase, and then goes for the cabinet on the right and pulls down two wine glasses. The red liquid flows and he takes them into the living room as she returns wearing a robe that ends below her knees.

“I liked the nightie better,” he says. “That the one I bought you from France?”

She takes the wine glass he hands out and sits on the couch, pulling her knees up when he sits next to her. “What do you want?”

“To talk to you,” he answers, sipping his wine; his face pinches when he swallows.

“You don’t like wine. Why are you drinking it?”

“Because you like it.” He sets his glass down. “I’ve missed you.”

She averts her gaze, lowers her glass, and stares into the wine. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to be better for you,” he murmurs, large hands pulling her ankles to rest in his lap.

“You won’t,” she answers. “You never are.”

“I know.” His hands work into her calves, thumbs dipping into her muscle as he massages. “But I can try.”

“You’re always gone. You come back after missions, love up on me for a few weeks and then you’re off again.” Her throat tightens but she pushes through it. “Every time I want more, you tell me you aren’t in the position for a full-time relationship.” She meets his eyes, feels the tears grow in them. “I’m just a warm body for you to—”

His hand grips tight on her calf. “You have always been more than that to me,” he interrupts. “And I know I come back and leave. I push and pull you like tides and I break your heart every time I do. I know.” He gazes at her. “But I know what I feel for you.”

“It isn’t love,” she replies weakly. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t do this to me.”

He drops his gaze, lets out a heavy sigh. “I know I care about you.”

“I can’t keep letting you in.”

“I’m already here in your living room,” he tries to joke, and she gives him a sorrowed look.

“Into my heart,” she clarifies. “I can’t…I can’t keep doing it.”

He pulls away, gets up from the couch, and kneels before her. “I’m here.”

“For how long?” She asks and he lays his hands on her hips, pulls her to him so that her legs are hugging his chest.

“As long as you want me.”

“I want all of you,” she replies. “I don’t even know if you can give me that.”

He gazes into her eyes, holds her tight as he promises, “I am giving you all that I am right here and now.”

“But not forever?”

“I can’t promise forever,” he murmurs. “But I can promise now.”

She takes a moment to think, feels his fingers pressing into her hips and looks back at him. “…I’ve missed now.”

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no-one-fights-alone · 1 month

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“Who dares wins. Sleep easy, soldier.”

“See you down range, brother. We’ll take it from here.”

“Rest in peace, Johnny.”

#my delulu brain believes that ghost has tears welling up in his eyes #gaz sniffles 🥺#it’s okay guys soap wasn’t in the urn #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain jonathan price #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #modern warfare iii

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aiceearts · 2 months

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Defintely shit posting and trying different artstyles.

Cuddlepile TF141

#aiceearts #task force 141 #tf 141 #john price #captain john price #captain jonathan price #simon ghost riley #simon riley #lieutenant simon riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz cod #soap mactavish #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #chibi art #cod art #cod fanart

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l0velylecter · 1 year

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hiii just came across your site and your hcs of the cod men are so fucking amazing!!! i was wondering if you could do a part 2 of the size difference imagine w/ the other cod men characters? but only if you're not busy!! thnxx

— the men of cod : mw ii with a tiny s/o [vol.ii ] characters : captain john price, phillip graves, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, rodolfo parra fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii tags : gn!reader, headcanons additional warnings : size kink, manhandling, explicit descriptions of sex ( not me writing this on christmas eve LOL it feels illegal ) rating : e for explicit, nsfw!

01| His breath ghosted against your nape, the invisible hair standing up, begging to be pet. Price's chuckle reverberated down your spine, pricking the skin with goosebumps as his beard scratched the surface. With his size, he could easily have you bent over his knee, four fingers sinking into your body to spread you wide. He never gets tired of seeing you like this, disheveled and writhing just from his hands, struggling to adjust to the size. And when you'd try to grind yourself down the hilt, he'll firmly still your hips ( even if his own self-control is on the brink of collapsing.) — Patience, love. I need to be thorough with you.

02| As much as you enjoy standing up to Graves, sometimes, there's something in submitting yourself to him that feels downright euphoric. And Graves is more than happy to manhandle and fuck you into a mating pres. With your size, he's obsessed with how easy it was to get you into this position: ankles on either side of his shoulders as he drives his cock into your quivering hole. Your body was coiled tight, the pleasure so intense it was painful, tears pricking your eyes and running down your neck, which only turned him on even more. His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body, and hands gripping your shoulders. And when he comes, hot spurts of cum spilling, dripping down your stomach, he kissed your leg. Teeth latching on to skin as he groans desperately — Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby you're so tight, so good, so wet for me. Do you like that baby? I know you do. I know you can take it. You're a good girl. 03| The heat was blooming against your abdomen, seizing your body into a spasm as Gaz pushed your legs apart to push himself deeper — hands, firm and steady against your hips to maneuver you however he wanted. He had you against the couch, the wall, the kitchen counter, and now atop the bed. And you enjoy being overpowered and pinned against any surface for him to take, to please. Even after preparing you, he still needed to be careful, arms on either side of your face to not crush you. You shuddered, feeling your stomach bulge, his cock pulsing inside. He pats your thighs in encouragement, thumb stroking you down your high as you come undone — That's it, babe. I got you. I got you. 04| You never expected this from your sweet Rodolfo. And how can you deny him when he had asked you so kindly? Even on his knees, with you sitting across him, he still reached your eye level, your hand absentmindedly smoothing down his arms to feel the muscle. He was so careful with you that you sometimes forgot how big he was. As you tried to sink onto his cock, his hands eased you down the hilt, head lightly hitting the headboard when you started rocking back and forth: fingers digging into his broad shoulders. Even when he was setting the pace, handling you like a doll, a toy, he was still gentle, only roughly pulling you down to push you to finish — Gracias, mi corazón. Thank you.

a/n : anon thank you so much for requesting ( and your sweet compliment ) ! i had so much fun writing this hahaha it’s been a while since i wrote something so steamy 🙈 i hope this lives up to your expectations + happy holidays <3

imagine the men of cod : mw ii & size difference [ vol i ]

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 2 months

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Thinking of Tumblr Daddy Dom!John Again

(I swear, the brain rot for this concept is growing more and more severe.)

So, let’s say you’re asking him to send a selfie and he only thinks it fair since you’ve sent him a few.

And this is what he sends you:

Normally, this is the moment you run. Or, rather, ghost the person because 10 out of 10 times they’ve proven to be ugly. However, this time, you just sit staring at your screen.

(your_username): Is that really you?

CaptainBear: Yeah. Hope I’m not too ugly. Or old.

(your_username): John, I have a question.

CaptainBear: What is it, love?

(your_username): Who gave you the bloody fucking audacity to look like that? Sir, that’s not alright.😤

CaptainBear: Is that a compliment?

(your_username): Maybe a bit back-handed, but yes! You are handsome. So never dare to claim otherwise or I’ll personally come smack some sense into you.😤

Afterwards, he feels more comfortable sharing selfies with you.

John loves how you get sulky when he sends you one a few weeks later.

CaptainBear: Sweetheart, how do I look?

(your_username): Bloody handsome, as per usual😉

(your_username): But where’s the beard?☹️

CaptainBear: Occasionally, it has to come off, babygirl. Daddy’s got some ceremonies coming up. Graduations and other formalities. Events during which people don’t seem too keen on too much facial hair.

(your_username): But I like Daddy’s beard. Makes you look like a bear🥺

CaptainBear: *pets your head and gives you a kiss on the forehead* It’ll grow back, love.

(your_username): I’d better see the beginnings of a beard three weeks from now or I’ll personally come over to hide your razor.😤

CaptainBear: Careful with your words now, darling.

(your_username): Why?

CaptainBear: Because if you come here, I might never let you go :)

CoD ML

#CoD #CoD x Reader #John Price #John Price x Reader #Captain John Price #Captain John Price x Reader #Captain Jonathan Price

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mafesti · 2 months

Text

Behind enemy lines

Pairing(s): John Price x GN! Reader Summary: A recon mission gone wrong (I'll add more for the summary I swear) Word Count: 3253 (why is it so short-) Warning(s): A gunshot wound (though it's not mentioned) A/N: Uhhh I present to you another story! I tried to make it interesting but it may or not be boring when you read this (I swear the ideas are not coming in when I need them grhehshak). I wanted this to be a one-shot so it'll be longer for you guys, but my friend said to make it into two parts :3 It's still under editing but it's safe to read it!

// Part 2 \\ Will be coming up a few days later.. I hope.

.｡ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

It was supposed to be a simple recon mission from Laswell, just like usual. But this time it was a two member recon mission, and they sent you in with Price. The need for intel was imperative. It was crucial to get out without making too much chaos, and you both were a perfect duo to get the job done (if you just ignore how much you admire him).

Laswell's orders were clear and simple, "Get the needed info, and get out without getting detected."

But of course, nothing ever goes as smoothly as one might have expected.

Laswell's voice crackled over the comms, "There's been a change in the situation, I need you both to abort the mission."

"Roger that." Price responded back with no questions asked.

You both prepared your gear and went out of the room, going to the hallway. As you and Price crept in the shadows, avoiding detection, everything seemed to be going as planned.

Until it wasn't, yet again.

The enemies had successfully set an ambush for you both. The situation went south rather quickly, and it seemed as if they had been aware of your plans all along.

Soon all hell broke loose.

"Laswell, we need immediate evac!" Price yelled over the comms, the sound of bullets flying beside him.

"On it, John." She replied back, her voice showing signs of worry.

Gunshots flew everywhere, the sound echoing through the air, nearly hitting one of you once, and the situation turned from bad to worse in the blink of an eye. As the gunshots kept flying, it was only a matter of time before something major would happen, and one of you would get hurt.

You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your body, your heart racing as you realize just how close you were to being hit. The intensity of the moment was almost too much to bear, but you managed to regain your composure and focus on the mission at hand. You were lucky this time, but it was clear as day that this was no ordinary recon mission.

You and Price were hidden behind a wall, trading fire with the enemy at every opportunity. The exit was close, you could see it, but the enemy seemed to have endless numbers, like a never ending wave of threats. Bullets and other projectiles flew past you, some missing you by inches. It was like a wall of lead was being aimed directly at you, and you realized your ammo was running dangerously low.

"Capt, I'm runnin' low on ammo!" You yelled between the sound of bullets whizzing past you.

Just as you finished yelling, the comms cackled to life again, as Laswell's voice could be heard.

"Evac's eight minutes away from your location." She said, earning a groan from Price.

"We don't have eight minutes, Laswell!" He said quickly.

As the fire kept coming at you, you and Price fired your last few shots, and heard the enemy's bullets becoming fewer and fewer with each passing second. The sound of footsteps stopped, the enemy was seemingly retreating. The two of you kept aim, staying alert for any surprises, yet as time passed it seemed more and more likely that the enemy was actually retreating.

You both moved towards the exit, making sure the coast was clear. You both shared a relieved look as you went towards the extraction point. However, in the midst of the relief, you suddenly felt a sharp, excruciating pain in the lower side of your abdomen.

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