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#captain john price x reader
dante-mightdie · 2 days
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currently thinking about the moment the boys all collectively realise that you are the captain’s favourite
the boonie hat. it sounds silly but john is very protective about that hat in the sense that he doesn’t allow a single soul to touch it. one time ghost misplaced it and got an earful for weeks about how he had to get a new one and it didn’t feel the same as his old one
during the third week of this earache, ghost made the silly mistake of saying, ‘it’s jus’ a bloody hat, captain.’ price spent the rest of the week being a petty bastard
people used up all of simon’s earl grey? it’s just tea, lieutenant. lost one of his favourite knives on a mission? just a weapon, simon. simon learned never to touch that bloody hat ever again
or that time when gaz dared soap so swipe the hat from his head and bolt down the hallway whilst price was in the middle of an important conversation with laswell. once john caught up with him he was rewarded with 6 weeks of cleaning duty and getting his ass absolutely handed to him in front of the new recruits
gaz filmed the whole thing and showed it to everyone, earning 6 weeks of scrubbing floors on his knees right next to johnny
but when you have a bit too much to drink at whatever shithole bare they were drinking in and drag your captain on to the dance floor? he smiles and they think you’re about to be sent to an early grave
the sounds of roxette coming from the old jukebox send your body into a routine of seductive swaying. all eyes are on you especially when you reach up to grab his boonie hat from his head before placing it on your own
tipsy giggles leave your throat as you dance, taking the tumbler of scotch from his hand and taking a sip. tilting your head and biting your lip as you look at him
you’re laughing death in the face, the boys think. the captain is about to wipe that smirk off of your face and make you ever regret touching his beloved hat. you’re about to learn the painful lesson they all endured
or so they thought. john doesn’t do anything except stand there, arms folded over his chest in the middle of the room as he watches you with pure amusement, “better give that back, trouble…”
“or what, cap’n?” you giggle out, taking another sip of his drink. he takes a few steps forward before pulling you against his chest, his cheeks pulling up into a smile
“or i’ll take it from ya.” he chuckles, taking a hand up to pull the hat down over your eyes as he locks his arms around your waist, swaying you to the music
just a few feet away, the boys still sit at their booth. slouched in the booth with cross pours written across their faces,
“well, I guess it’s obvious who the favourite is.” johnny grumbles out as the other nod along in agreement
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konigsblog · 18 hours
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sucking simon riley or captain price off, taking breaks to take a drag from the cigarette held between your fingers.
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fuzzyautumninmetal · 2 days
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Loving Husband
Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 Wanting a baby together
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You rang John, in the middle of the day, crying about work "I can't leave base love" John's heart broke to hear you cry "I know....I just wanted to hear your voice" You sniffled over the phone, he was quiet for a moment "Take the day off love, come see me"
John was a good man and a loving husband
To John, all love songs were suddenly about you
To John, you were a piece of artwork he could admire forever
He loved you more than life itself and would do anything to cheer you up
To John, falling in love with you was the easiest thing to do
And that's how you got here, in the backseat of your car with your dress hung loosely around your waist and John knuckle deep in you while he ravhises your thighs in kisses 
"John" you whined "We can't be doing this"
He looked up at you with a seductive smile on his face and ignored your protests "What kind of husband would I be?". His free hand moved up to your breast and squeezed it gently while his fingers curled in you "If I didn't take care of my wife?"
He teased your clit with his tongue before moving down further to lick every inch of your pussy slowly. "I can't resist indulging in my beautiful wife." John's cock was already dripping with anticipation, eager to enter you and fuck you senseless.
You arched your back, you grip tightening onto the seat of your car, biting back your moans. John came up to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He unzipped his trousers, pulling them down enough to release his throbbing cock before grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him "I just want to look after my wife. My pretty wife" He said in-between kisses.
As John's cock slid out of his pants, he grabbed onto your hips and guided you closer so your bodies were pressed together. His erection nestled against your wet pussy, begging to be let inside. "My sexy wife," he whispered into her mouth, "I can't help but want to take care of you like this."
He thrust his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your waiting pussy with each stroke. "Feels so good." He whimpered as a hand reached around to grab hold of one of your tits, squeezing it gently as he continued to kiss you deeply. "You're so perfect for me darling." You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, whining into his neck "Fuck. John"
John's hand moved down to grab onto your ass, holding it firmly as he drove his cock deeper into your pussy. His other hand grasped onto your hip. He pushed himself up, spreading your legs apart, exposing your pussy fully to his view. His gaze locked onto yours as he fucked you. "Oh ...my sweet little wife..." He whispered between breaths, his voice barely audible due to the sounds of your pussy eating his cock.
"Fucking hell...this feels so good..." John's hand kept moving, feeling every inch of your body as he fucked you "So fucking tight..." He growled, his voice filled with lust and desire. You started grinding your hips, trying to match his rhythm. Completely forgetting your in the middle of a car park
John's hand left your ass to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to him as he fucked you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixed with your heavy breathing and moans. Your pussy felt incredibly tight around his cock, making it difficult for him not to cum too soon.
"Fuck...so good," he groaned, his voice thick with need and desire. John's free hand moved to your back, finding your bra strap and undoing it quickly before tossing it aside. "Looking at this perfect body. Drives me fucking wild." He growled, his hips slamming into yours relentlessly as he fucked you hard. "Mine...all mine."
"All yours" you cried, letting your head fall back. John's voice dropped lower still, becoming almost animalistic as he spoke to you in between strokes of his hips. "Such a pretty little cunt...so tight and ready for me." He growled, his thumb running circles around your clit. "I love watching you come apart like this, knowing that you're completely mine."
"Feeling this tight pussy around my cock makes me lose control...but I don't care because it's all for you." He growled, his voice harsh with raw emotion. John's cock pounded into your pussy relentlessly, his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. His hand held onto your chin, forcing her to look at him as he fucked you "Such a pretty little face...looking so vulnerable and exposed like this." He growled, his voice low and dangerous. 
"I love seeing you come apart for me, knowing that I'm the one who brings you to this state of pure bliss." John's hand left your chin to reach up and grab onto your hair, pulling it back and exposing your neck. "Marking you as mine...claiming this perfect body as my own." His words were filled with possessiveness and lust as he continued to fuck you mercilessly.
Your hands tightened around Johns biceps, letting him know you were close. "John" You manage to gasp. John's cock twitched inside of your pussy, signalling that he was close as well. He pulled out slightly, allowing his throbbing cock to rest against your entrance for a moment before pushing back inside with a forceful thrust. 
"Almost there, baby," he rumbled, his voice rough and strained. "Can feel that tight pussy clenching around me...knowing that you're about to explode for me." John's hand released your hair and instead wrapped around your waist as he continued to fuck you.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and screamed his name as you came, John's cock erupted within you. He let out a primal roar, releasing his load with a force that shook their bodies together. "Ahh...fuck!" He grunted, his voice hoarse from pleasure. John's hand moved to cup your cheek, holding your face steady as he continued to pulse inside of you.
You place your hand on top of his as you leaned into his touch "I know John. I know." John kissed your forehead "I've got your favourite snacks waiting for you in my office". You smiled up at him "My darling husband..... Always looking after me." You both cleaned up the best you could before getting out of your car and walking to John's office. Hands intertwined. Acting like he didn't just fuck you senseless 
"Better?" John asked as he held you, you nodded your head as you caught your breath, his thumb traced gentle circles on your cheek, his voice soft and tender as he spoke to you. "It's not fair that your job causes you so much stress and worry. It breaks my heart to see you like this, feeling overwhelmed and anxious all the time." 
As John walked with you towards his office, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction. Despite having just taken her pussy relentlessly, he managed to keep his cool and maintain some level of professionalism. But you were always worth going the extra mile for.
"I hope those snacks will help make you feel better," he said, leading you into his office and closing the door behind you both. John sat down at his desk ready to finish off whatever paperwork he started with, You claimed your usual spot on the couch and watched your husband work. One of your favourite past times.
Your phone started ringing, you glanced to see it was your boss. You let out a sigh before answering that call and excusing yourself for a moment and you left John's office.
As he worked, John couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have such an amazing woman by his side. You was strong, independent, and had an incredible work ethic - qualities that made you an ideal match for him. 
As you returned to the office, John noticed the tears in your eyes and immediately put down what he was doing to comfort you. He stood up from his seat, walking around the desk and taking you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. "What's wrong love?" His voice was gentle and concerned, trying to determine what was troubling you so deeply. "Tell me what's going on." He whispered, his tone soothing and loving. 
"It's just my boss" You sniffled "My deadline has been cut short. Again." John's expression shifted from concern to anger as he heard the reason for your tears. He felt a surge of protective instincts rise within him, wanting to shield you from any additional stress or pressure that your demanding boss might be putting on you. 
"Damn it...that son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, "Why does he keep treating you like this? Don't you deserve better than constant deadlines and unreasonable expectations?" John's voice was firm and assertive, letting you know that he wouldn't stand for anyone mistreating his beloved wife. "I'll handle this. You don't have to worry about it anymore."
You gently pushed him to his office chair "Just hold me. Please." You asked. Straddling his lap as he sat down. John obliged, sitting down in his office chair and pulling you onto his lap as you straddled him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close and providing a warm embrace while you sought comfort through physical closeness. 
As you sat together, John's mind raced, planning how he would deal with your boss once and for all. He would do anything to protect his wife from unnecessary stress and pressure. "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you need," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness as he stroked your back gently. You smiled against his warm embrace* "I love you John"
John's eyes closed briefly as you whispered your words of affection, his chest rising with a quiet sigh as he absorbed her words. "I love you too. So much that I'd walk across fire for you. That I'd fight tooth and nail for you." You grabbed John's shirt as you pulled him in for a kiss.
John responded eagerly to your kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a deep and passionate exchange. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer against his chest as your tongues danced together. The intensity of your kiss reflected the fierce protection and devotion that John felt towards you. 
His hands roamed over your body, caressing your curves and squeezing your ass gently as he deepened the kiss further. "Mmm...you're so damn sexy when you're like this," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky and aroused. John's dick twitched in response to your intimate moment, reminding him of how much he wanted to fuck you right then and there. "Fuck..."
John moaned softly as you left bite marks and wet kisses along his neck sent a wave of pleasure coursing through his body. You began grinding on his jeans which only intensified his desire, making it harder for him to resist taking you right there on his chair. He reached down and grabbed onto you ass cheeks, squeezing them tightly and pulling you even closer against his swollen cock. "Fuck...I can't believe how much I want you sometimes," he growled lowly, his voice raw and primal as he surrendered completely to their erotic moment together.
You smirked at him as you unzipped his trousers, revealing the growing bulge in his boxers. He knew you could sense how much he wanted you and it only fuelled both of your arousals further. Your boldness and confidence were incredibly sexy to John, turning him on even more as he imagined her taking control and showing him who was really in charge.
"Jesus Christ...just get these fucking pants off me already," he groaned, helping you pull his trousers down enough for you to access his throbbing cock. John's erection sprang free, standing proudly against his stomach as he awaited your next move.
John let out a long, low moan as you finally settled herself onto his throbbing cock, riding him slowly and deliberately. "Such a loving husband" you let out a breathless moan. "Always taking care of me." Each stroke sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body, making it impossible for him not to thrust upwards into your wet pussy. 
The sound of her moans only served to heighten his excitement, driving him crazy with lust and need. "Please quit your job.... become my gorgeous housewife." John begged. "I can't.... You know I don't like..... Doing nothing." You whispered as your head fell back in pleasure.
John's voice caught slightly in his throat as he realized that he had accidentally mentioned something about having a baby. It wasn't intentional, but now that the thought was out there, he couldn't ignore it. Your reaction told him that you had also picked up on what he said, despite his attempt to play it off casually. "Uh...yeah...uh...I mean...it's just...you know...a hypothetical situation," he stammered, trying to explain himself without actually admitting that he had been thinking about starting a family with you. 
You and John have spoken about it. He earns enough money so you don't have to work if you didn't want to. But like John you can't sit around and do nothing, it drives you crazy. "You won't be doing nothing if you have a baby to look after." John groaned. Your head snapped back to look at him, "What?" You questioned. Not sure if you heard him right. 
As you pleaded with him to make you a mother, your hungry kisses and intense ride on his cock made it nearly impossible for John to deny you anything. The thought of creating a family with you, of watching you grow round with his child, filled him with an overwhelming sense of desire and longing.
You have always wanted kids and when you married John you knew you wanted his kids, but the topic was never brought up between you and John. Until now you didn't even know if he wanted kids. You grabbed John's shirt and kissed him, hungrily "Make me a mama. Please John." You begged him as you rode is cock. Making it impossible for John to say no to you. 
John used one arm pushed everything off his desk, much like in the movies, and sat you on top of his desk. John continued to fuck you relentlessly, his hips slamming into you with abandon as he imagined what it would be like to create a life with you. The thought of you carrying his child filled him with a mixture of awe and wonder, making him feel like the luckiest man alive. 
As he pounded into your dripping pussy, he placed one hand on her belly, feeling the soft curve beneath his fingers and envisioning it growing round with their child. "Yeah...fuck yeah...pregnant with our child...our little bundle of joy," he growled, lost in the moment of pure ecstasy and wanting nothing more than to create a family with you by his side.
As John's mouth claimed your in a deep and passionate kiss, his hand moved from your belly to cup one of her breasts, teasing the nipple with his thumb, pinching it lightly between his fingers. Your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him close as you shared yet another intimate moment together. The idea of being a father to your children filled him with an indescribable sense of happiness and fulfilment.
"Our child...going to be so lucky to have two amazing parents like us," he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with desire and love for you and the future you both could build together. "They'll be even luckier with you as their daddy" You whimpered against John's lips.
John's heart swelled with pride at the thought of being called 'Daddy' by their children some day. The idea of being a father and providing for his family filled him with a sense of purpose and determination that he had never felt before. Your words of praise and affection only served to fuel his desire to be the best husband and father possible, to show you and their children just how much he loved and cherished them. "And I will be...the best dad ever...promise," he vowed, his voice thick with emotion as he continued to pound into your wet pussy, his climax rapidly approaching.
As your orgasm washed over you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body and causing your nails to dig into John's back, he released a primal grunt of satisfaction, signalling that his own release was imminent. John's cock throbbed inside your pussy, pulsing with each contraction of your orgasm, until finally he let loose with a loud cry of pleasure and spilled his load deep within your womb. The sight of your ecstatic expression as you succumbed to your own climax.
John rested his forehead against yours as you both lay spent and sated upon his desk, your breaths coming in ragged gasps and your hearts still pounding wildly in your chests. For a moment, you simply savoured the intensity of the emotions that had consumed you both during your passionate encounter - love, desire, and the undeniable certainty that they were meant to be together forever. "You are...my world," John whispered, his voice barely audible above the sound of his heavy breathing. He would do anything for you, you are the centre of his universe, and that he would always cherish and protect you and your future children with all his heart.
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aleskyyy · 3 days
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Your husband comes home after his deployment.
Warnings — fem!reader, wife!reader, fluff, kissing, mention of male masturbation, fingering, cum eating, 18+ MDNI!
569 words.
Main Masterlist COD Masterlist
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You are cooking for dinner when you hear the sound of the door opening and then closing. And you hear the sound of things being put down. You immediately turn off the stove and run to the main door. There you see your beloved husband, John Price.
"Love," he says in a soft tone.
John walks over to you and hugs you tightly. He rests his head in the crook of your neck. Giving you soft kisses there. You smile at his behavior, and feel tickled by his beard tickling your neck.
"I missed you," he said as he tightened his embrace.
"I missed you too, baby," you say as you stroke his hair.
John straightens his head and looks at you. You rubbed his cheek gently.
"I'm cooking your favorite meal, it'll be done soon. You should take a shower first."
You kissed his lips gently, but John had other thoughts. He push you to the wall and gripped the back of your neck to deepen your kiss. John gently bit your lower lip which made you moan softly and with that John inserts his tongue into your mouth to meet yours.
He really misses you. He remembers when he was on a mission with his teammates and got some free time to rest, he always stroked his cock with his hand and imagined fucking you, until he cum so hard.
You feel your husband's hand slipping into the night gown you're wearing. You feel his fingers touch your inner thighs and make their way towards your underwear. His fingertips caressing your pussy from outside the underwear you're wearing. And a moment later his fingers begin to remove your underwear until it falls to your ankles.
"You're already wet, love. I haven't even put my finger inside you," he says with a chuckle when he feel how wet your pussy.
Your face gets even redder hearing your husband's words. Before you can reply, John slips a finger into your pussy. You let out a loud moan. You really missed your husband's touch.
John slowly moves his finger inside your pussy. And he starts kissing you again, make you whined into the kiss. Then kissing your jaw, kissing your neck and biting it lightly. When John feel your pussy wetter than before he put another finger to the knuckle in you, he curl them against your slick walls. You feel your head spinning and your knees almost buckled. It's been so long for both of you.
"Look at me, love, look at me when I make you cum with my fingers," he said with his other hand grab your jaw.
You force your eyes to look at your husband's. John knows you're almost come, he speeds up his finger movements inside your pussy and makes your walls tighten.
"Fuck."
"Come love, come on my fingers."
Your body trembles with pleasure as you come. John's name is barely audible when you say it. You look at your husband when he pull out his fingers from you, he lick his fingers clean in front of you.
"You taste so sweet, love, " he says with a smirk on his face. "I think it's time for me to take a shower, I hope our dinner doesn't get burnt."
You see your husband walking away. And you forgot that you were cooking dinner, luckily you turned off the stove first before meeting him.
"Fuck."
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saphira5 · 2 days
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Task Force 141 and more x Reader Masterlist
Captain Price
Captain Price x Civilian reader short "far away"
Human Captain Price x Lt. Dragon reader short "flying high" SMUT
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Wolf among lambs one-shot
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Civilian reader short
Simon "Ghost' Riley x 141 reader "traitor" short
Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141 reader "aftermath" good version short
Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141 reader "aftermath" bad version short
Kyle Garrick
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x reader short SMUT
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Ex- military reader Part 1
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x reader short Part 1 "beginning."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x reader short Part 2 "Hospital".
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x civilian reader short "is this love."
John "Soap" Mactavish
John "Soap" Mactavish x Civilian reader short "Fear"
Task Force 141 x reader
Task force 141 x (platonic) reader short Part 1
Task force 141 x (Platonic) reader short Part 2 final
Task force 141 x Lt. reader "for you, anything"
Task force 141 x (Platonic) Captain reader "Action have consequences."
Task force 141 x (platonic) Captain reader short "shower"
Task force 141 x (platonic) Captain reader short "Labor Day celebration"
Task force 141 x (platonic) Captain reader - callsign "Achilles" Part 1
Task force 141 x (platonic) Captain reader "Achilles" Part 2
Task force 141 x (platonic) captain reader "Achilles" Part 3
Alex Keller x reader
Alex x reader one-shot cod: MW short
Alex Keller x reader short "my world my soul"
Makarov x reader
Makarov x reader short "is it fate"
Makarov x reader short "The end of the West"
More to come and edits will be made.
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mikichko · 1 day
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john price is a man incredibly high up in the chain of command of your company. he does a little walking tour of the buildings during crew appreciation weeks. helps humble down his image and he gets to have some meaningful conversations. sometimes even gets to meet particularly wonderful people.
he spots you, the sole person whose eyes are glued to their computer screen, in a sea of employees who are gawking at him. can hear the steady typing from your mechanical keyboard, your eyes flittering across the screen. he pauses a little too long, prompting laswell to repeat herself to the group before they move along.
but he makes sure not to be too far away, keeping you in his peripheral. notices how you don't even bother to spare a look in his direction. even when talking to team members that would place john directly in your sight, your eyes only focus on them. not him.
you were damn good at your job. the color-coded whiteboard behind you, filled with deadlines and application information, confirms it. funny too, if the little bouts of laughter that escape your team's cluster are anything to go by. he wonders what pitch your voice carries, just out of reach for it to bless his ears. wonders what it'd take for you to look and grant him a smile.
he doesn't have to wait long. your mouth splits into a bright smile and for a second john wonders if you're glowing. but the smile's not for him. it's directed at a coworker, who, for john's sake, is anything but quiet. he can hear just how thick he lays the praise for a job well done.
john watches the transformation that takes place as his words land. your soft easy-going smile widening, pushing your cheeks further up. you immediately perk up, back straightening, shoulders pushed back, and leaning forward in the direction of your coworker.
oh. oh.
john can feel something warm beginning to pool at the bottom of his stomach. he cracks a knuckle before shoving his fists into his pockets, lest he does something that lands him in HR.
he'll keep this tidbit with him for the next time he sees you. just so he can let you know how much of a good job you're doing.
maybe even get a reward.
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a/n: silly little idea that came to my head while I was at work of course :') still trying to get out of my head when im writing but we're making progress
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milf-murdock · 10 hours
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Captain
Younger!Captain John Price x Reader
Summary:  Price just got promoted to captain, and then inadvertently discovers he really likes it when you call him by his new title. Like, he really likes it. How do we celebrate this new promotion and self discovery?? By fucking in an elevator of course! Warnings: SMUT!! So much fucking smut. Established relationship. P in V. Oral (male receiving). Fingering (female receiving). Fucking in an elevator ?? Listen this is just so fucking filthy. Porn with some plot. But also of course I had to end it with fluff because I don’t know when to stop.  I don’t fucking know how elevators work. We go with it. 
Also, check out this beautiful piece of art by @ wombywoo for the most beautiful Captain Price photo inspiration
“I knew you’d look good in these new dress blues,” you smirked, brushing off invisible lint from John’s jacket with your spare hand as you admired the glint of the many medals and honorifics that decorated your husband’s chest—including the three shiny gold stars that represented his new rank. Your other hand held a pair of high heels as uncomfortable as they were stunning and you had rid your aching feet of the offending items as soon as you and John were in the relative privacy of the elevator, heading up to your hotel suite. The swanky hotel was a little surprise of yours to John, knowing he wouldn’t want to travel all the way back home after a long day of ceremony and celebration.
You and John had just left the ceremony honoring his latest promotion to Captain. It was a night full of pride, honor, and maybe just a few too many glasses of wine post-ceremony, if you were being honest. 
“I was under the impression you thought I look good in everything,” John drawled, his lips twitching upwards, a hint of a smile gracing his face. 
“Oh is that so…Captain Price,” you playfully quipped and watched as John’s lips curved upwards even more, a slight flush creeping up his neck. 
You opened your mouth to comment again on his new rank, enjoying the momentary power trip–it wasn’t often you could incite this kind of reaction from your lover, when a soft ding  warned you that the elevator had reached your floor. You smothered your frown, taking a step off the elevator before stumbling over the silken hem of your gown. A strong hand gripped your elbow to steady you, another reaching around to rest firmly on your waist. Before you could attempt another step, a force abruptly pulled you backwards, your back pressing against John’s muscled torso. His warm breath caressed your neck as he dipped his head low. “Say it again,” he all but growled, his lips ghosting your neck in a way that sent heat straight to your core. You couldn’t help the slight arch of your back in response, noting with pure satisfaction the reaction you were garnering from John. You could feel his hardened arousal through the pristine dress slacks, and your cunt clenched in response. 
“Well now, love, here’s the thing,” you tease, pressing your backside against his hardened member and relishing John’s sharp intake of breath in response. “I don’t take orders from you.” You felt the rumble deep in his chest as he took the bait, his fingers all but slamming the keypad to shut the doors to the elevator. Confusion flitted across your face, but John didn’t even hesitate as he forcefully pressed the bright red stop button to halt the elevator completely.
A brief alarm sounded, followed by a robotic voice that was no doubt meant to sound soothing as it reassured passengers that the elevator had been stopped and help would be arriving soon. Understanding began to dawn as John released his hold on you, and you turned to see his familiar blue eyes peering down at you, ravenous. 
“If you don’t take orders from me,” John’s voice was low and steady, a hint of that tameless lust just under the surface. “Then please, do tell me, who do you take orders from?” He took a step closer, towering above you with a piercing glare. Reflexively, you took a step back. Well, tried to–the elevator door pressed up against you, and you weren’t  sure if it was the sudden coolness of the metal or the heat of your husband's gaze that caused the shiver that shot up your spine. 
“Well, that would be…” you  swallowed hard, wracking your brain for a name, any name. “Umm,”  you attempted to buy yourself time, but you felt as though every coherent thought you’d ever had eddied out of your mind, a ravenous need overtaking your entire body. All you could think about is John and how damned good he looked in that fucking uniform. As if reminding yourself, your eyes trailed downward, soaking in every last detail of his new dress uniform. Your gaze stopped short upon seeing the evident outline of his arousal and you instinctively bit down on your bottom lip to conceal your moan. 
John took another step to you, quickly closing the small distance between you two. You felt his firm grip on your chin, forcing your head to tilt up and meet his gaze. Passion burned in his eyes and you felt the last of your resolve melting away. Fuck being witty right now, you thought to yourself, I need this. As if he read your mind, John’s lips crashed against yours and your entire body ignited with need. Your fingers tangled in his hair and every inch of your body pressed up against him. John’s hands gracefully slid down your hips, cupping the upper back of your thighs. You took the sign for what it was, giving a little jump as he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He didn’t even break the kiss, just pressed your back against the doors of the  elevator, grinding his erection into your core. The friction was practically electric and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as you break the kiss. You leaned your head against the steel frame and John’s lips moved to your newly exposed neck, sucking and nipping the sensitive flesh. He took the thin strap of your gown between his teeth and  before you could so much as utter a warning, he ripped it straight from the gown. Without its integral support, the delicate satin of the bust fell down, exposing one of your breasts. 
“God damn it, John, that was expensive,” you chastised halfheartedly, your chest rapidly rising and falling as he once again ground into you. As if in apology, John peppered kisses across your exposed breast before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. Your complaints died in your throat as your body became alight with pleasure. As he continued his ministrations, he pinned you against the wall with his body, freeing one hand to gently slide your remaining strap down your arm, exposing the other breast in a manner completely opposite to its torn counterpart. John switched his attention to the other breast, gingerly taking your other nipple into his mouth. He took a moment to adjust your position against the elevator, one hand cupping your ass as the other hand slid between your bodies. For the second time that night you heard John’s sharp intake of breath as he brushed your bare self. 
“Are you really telling me you didn’t wear underwear to such a formal event?” he breathed out, barely concealing his moan at finding you bare and ready for him. “For fuck’s sake,” he breathed out, “you are so wet for me.”
You couldn’t help but let out a slight breathy laugh. “I told you I like the uniform,” you panted before your sassy remarks were replaced by cries of pleasure as two of John’s fingers plunged into your aching cunt. 
His name fell from your lips like a prayer. 
John. John. John. 
Your body was lost in the passion, his lips on your breasts, his fingers curling towards himself, hitting that spot that makes you see fucking stars. He’s relentless, devouring you–mind, body, and soul.  Before you knew it, you were on the brink of pure bliss. “John,”  you gasped, “I’m going to come,” you warned, though you knew it wasn’t necessary. Knowing your husband and all your years together, he knows exactly when you’re on the edge just as well as he knows exactly how to pleasure you to get you there. He is as in tune with your moans and sighs of pleasure as he is with his own heartbeat. 
His fingers picked up the pace, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Come for me, my love,” John purred in your ear, and the low timbre of his voice combined with the heat of his words had you tumbling over the edge of pleasure, his name on your lips as stars crossed your vision. 
You slowly drifted back to reality as John pressed soft kisses across your chest, trailing up your neck and back to your lips. He set you down on shaky legs, supporting you with his strong grip. 
Having finally caught your breath, you took a second to take stock of the sight before you: John’s dark hair, once perfectly styled, now a mess, the ironed jacket now crumpled and partially undone, and worse of all, those brand new dress pants now clearly soaked through with a mix of  his precum and your juices. The sight had your mouth watering. You fell to your knees before the captain, hands reaching up to unfasten his belt. It fell to the floor with a satisfying clank, but you didn’t even flinch.Your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip as you oh-so-slowly began to free John's cock. 
A low hiss escaped John’s lips as you took his bulging member into your hand. Your hand glided across the surface, eyes drinking in the veritable feast before you. No matter how many times you had been with John, his size always took you by surprise. The length, the girth, the thick vein that ran along the underside. Sliding back the uncut skin, your attention shifted to the deep red head, your thumb swiping a bead of precum from the tip. John’s gasp only encouraged you to lean forward and take the tip into your mouth, his fingers instantly tangling in your hair. Your mouth slid down his length, struggling to take as much of him in as you could. You used your hand to take whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth, and your mouth and hand worked in tandem to pleasure him. John’s quiet moans and growls of pleasure only spurred you on, and you worked to take more of him in your mouth. Only once the head of his cock hit the back of your throat did you stop, looking up at him with tears in your eyes, mascara trailing down your cheek. His loving gaze peered down at you, his lips ajar as he panted with need. 
The sight of you, on your knees before him, looking up at him from under your dark lashes, his cock resting in your mouth–it almost sent him over the edge. It took everything he had to pull himself out of your mouth. You sat on your knees, looking up at him as he closed his  eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. A brief moment of uncertainty flashed across your face,  “Was it…not good for…” you trailed off, slightly confused why he stopped you. You weren’t one to brag, but you certainly hadn’t had any complaints before. Before you could even finish the sentence, John pressed a finger to your lips. “You’re perfect,” he breathed out. “I wasn’t going to last like that,” he finished, a small smile at the edge of his lips as he helped lift you to your feet. “And I’m not done with you,” he growled as his lips crashed against yours once more, but this time there was even more urgency in his kiss. He pressed your back against the elevator wall, sliding the skirt of your dress up your hips so he could lift you up again. Your legs wrapped around his waist, causing his throbbing member to brush up against your soaking wet cunt. Biting back a groan, John repositioned his hips to line up with your entrance.  With a growl, he slid home, your earlier orgasm helping his cock slide in with ease. You can feel and hear the groan deep in John’s throat as he bottoms out, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix. 
John’s forehead dipped to touch yours, his unsteady breathing matching yours. His hips froze as he waited for you to adjust. You waited a few beats, relishing the delicious stretch, before you gave a nod of approval. Supporting you with his hands, he pulled out, all the way to the tip, before slamming home. Your head fell back to the cool metal wall as you gasped in pleasure. John continued the action, hips colliding with yours, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you. Your moans got louder, joining in the symphony of your bodies slapping against one another, the soft beat of your body against the wall of the elevator as John railed into you. 
It was too much. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, and you didn’t think  you could take much  more. “Yes,” you cred out,  “Yes, Fuck me, Captain,” you pant out, extra emphasis placed on his title. John’s hips stuttered at hearing  that word on  your  lips  once more . With a growl he slammed into you even harder. “Again,” his voice so low it sent a shiver straight to your cunt. 
“Please,” you begged, as his hips piston in and out of you with abandon, veritably nailing you to the wall with his cock. He hit that delicious spot deep within you and every thrust pulled  you closer and closer to  bliss.  “Captain,” you cried out before biting John’s shoulder as your orgasm crests, washing over you in endless waves of pleasure. You bit down harder than intended, but you don’t have time to regret it, not as John loses all semblance of control, thrusting into you with abandon. He thrust into you once, twice, and a final time as he came with a grunt of pleasure and his hips stuttered as he flooded you with his come. 
Your breaths were ragged, foreheads pressed against each other, feeling every twitch of his cock deep inside you. After a few beats, John withdrew, gently lowering you to the ground on legs that felt less than stable. He made sure to tuck himself back into his uniform and  adjust the remaining strap on your dress. You kept your grip on him, balancing yourself, as you felt his hot seed start to drip down your leg. An attempted step forward proved to be too much in your addled state, your leg threatening collapse as soon as you tried to step away from John. Without a word, John scooped you up into his arms, just like on your wedding night, before pressing a series of buttons on the elevator keypad. The elevator gave a small jolt back to life, and you found yourself thankful that John was holding onto you so tightly. Like nothing happened, John stepped off the lift and crossed you over to your suite.
You dozed in and out of consciousness in your blissed-out, post-orgasmic state, but came to as John gingerly laid you on the bed. He  helped slide you out of your dress, and you made a mental note to berate him in the morning for ruining your dress, already mapping out when he would take you shopping for its replacement. You watched in silence as John disassembled his uniform and set it out almost reverently before crawling into bed next to you. Rolling onto your side, you laid your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I am so  proud of you, Captain Price,” you murmured. His hand trailed slow,  lazy circles over  your arm and down your back, pulling you closer into him. “Everything I do is for you,” John replied, his voice barely  above a whisper. He pressed his lips to the top of  your head, “I love you.” 
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nrdmssgs · 2 days
Text
Constellation
Masterlist Fluff mostly Pairing: PriceXReaderXNikolai Summary: Cuddles and make out session. AN: My periods wrote this.
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“It's alright.” Johns fingers graze lightly down your shoulder.
“We are fine. We are here, together. You are safe, little star.” Nik's warm breath tickles the back of your neck.
But you can't stop the tears. A wet spot on Price's pillow grows wider under your cheek. John cups your face and guides you to look up at him. His gaze meets your tired red eyes and he sighs ruefully. John brings you closer in kisses your forehead, glancing at Nikolai.
There are many things in your decade long friendship that could have made others uncomfortable in your place. Others, but not you, John and Nikolai. You wouldn't let anything ruin the most treasured thing you have - this friendship. So forehead kisses are fine, ‘this reminds me of you’ photos of beautiful things are fine, dancing in the kitchen while you three are cooking is fine. Letters, that you receive from them from all over the world, ‘just because’ flowers, surprise hugs from behind - it's all fine. These things won't ever hurt your friendship. 
Even falling for both of them slowly and inevitably won't do so. As long as you keep it to yourself. Which is not the easiest thing to hide, when you find out, John came back from a deployment injured.
A friend might have made sure, Price is actually doing fine and just needs a few days of bed rest, and visited him with a care package. A girl, who was desperately in love, came to him as soon as her working day was over and cried ugly, curled up next to him. You started calming down only when Nikolai came, climbed on his friend's bed and scooped you in a tight hug.
And so you three are lying: Nik's arms around your waist, your face in Price's hands. Time to time, one of them half whispers something soft to you. And with each ‘we are fine’, ‘you are safe’, ‘It's going to be alright’ you return to normal little by little. 
It's their voices working their magic on you. Husky, low, rich and warm tones. If only these men knew, what can they do to you just with a short whisper. Sure they calm you down now, but they can drive you crazy as well, lead your mind to the places, you're too ashamed to acknowledge.
John wipes away your tears with his wide warm thumbs, Nikolai hums a melody over your ear. You remember it vaguely. Something in Russian. Something about a star, that he begs to shine on no matter what. It's not a lullaby, but always brings you peace and he remembers it.
They distract you: telling you little silly stories about their deployments, arguing, jokingly grumbling at each other. You even start laughing. Then Nikolai brings tea for you and meds for John. Price immediately puts on his most suffering and dissatisfied expression, and you with Nik barely hold back the laughter.
You try a good dozen of ways to convince Price to behave like a grown up and just swallow all his pills finally. Everything from plain flattery to threats is thrown at the grumpy man. And then you resort to bargaining.
“Eat your meds now, and I will kiss you.” You laugh. Nikolai chuckles. 
But John looks serious.
He scoops all the remaining meds and throws them into his mouth, topping it up with the remaining water. All not breaking an eye contact with you. 
“Done.” After one Price's word, the room falls silent. 
It's only then, when your own word sink in. You promised him what once again? Unable to bear his gaze, you hide your eyes, looking down his wide neck, to the concave, the point, where the outlines of his muscular chest begin to show. 
This neck is made for grabbing onto it in search for a stabilizing point, while this man is…
Your face is burning. It's hot, suffocating hot in here. Not just because the man, you've been dreaming to kiss, waits for your touch, but also because the other man, you've been dreaming to kiss is burning your back with his gaze. 
John doesn't move closer, since the distance between you two is already almost non-existent. He would never force you. But he doesn't move away either. 
And your wildest hopes and dreams are screaming, that's because he wants this. But you would rather die than do anything stupid and lose Johns and Nikolai's friendship.
You stretch your arm and touch his cheek, moving to his eye level. It's not that easy, giving the fact, that you have to balance on a pile of soft bed covers between two men, pushing the mattress down to both sides around you just with their weight. 
You frantically plan how to turn this all into a joke, when you feel it. Very soft, but absolutely intentional. A push right between your shoulder blades. You lose your balance and fall forward.
The world around you cuts out, when your lips meet. First you feel his warmth engulfing and penetrating you at the same time. Then you hear him breathing you in. You don't move - it is enough for you just lay like this next to him, lips pressed to his as he takes another deep breath in, steadying himself. 
You drown in a mix of scents: Johns aftershave, a hint of Niks cologne, cigar smoke and a light musk, almost disappearing, but still daring, seducing. It takes you some time to force yourself to move back. Not far - just a few centimeters, so that when John speaks again - his hot breath rolls down your lips.
“Wait.” John's hands gather your small frame and bring you back.
The second kiss is so much more. There is a lot of holding back, but behind it all you feel a need, a borderline desperation in every motion. Every time his lips catch yours in another intoxicating touch - you feel a promise.
A promise of so much more to come, if you just let him closer, if you trust him enough. But when his tongue leaves a short warm wet trail between your lips - you forget even about the promises, his body gives you. John Price doesn't taste like a black tea, smoke and meds - he tastes like the end of you. And such a beverage is better savored in little sips, so it doesn't go out in a second.
You make an incredible effort to stifle the groan that is tearing out. Your breathing is labored, your cheeks are burning with heat. But all that matters right now: John's lips on yours, his hands pulling you closer by your waist... and another hand gently brushing the hair off your shoulder, exposing the back of your neck.
This feeling paralyzes you, like a lightning, rolling down your spine, echoing in every single nerve. Nikolai. The one to turn you into an absolute mess with just one touch. You are afraid to admit, how good his touch feels, when you're kissing John. It simultaneously soothes and provokes you. John touches your lips once again, and you open your mouth wide enough to let his tongue slip deeper.
This time you both can't hold back your quiet moan and his velvety growl. But your mind slowly comes back to the point, where you can draw a connection between kissing one of your best friends and losing both of your best friends.
You pull away. Panting, you manage to muster only one word. For John, for Nikolai, for yourself.
“I'm sorry.”
“What's wrong, little star?” Nik presses his broad chest against your back, and you immediately feel small and helpless.
“We overstepped?” John lets go of your waist, giving you full freedom of movement.
Did he just say ‘we’?
You look him in the eyes, the most beautiful blue eyes, the universe could ever create, and feel so deeply ashamed, it makes you want to die right here and now. You love John, deeply and dearly, but…
“Talk to me, little star.” 
There it is. The “but”. It's not Nikolai's fault, you love him as madly as John. There must be something wrong with you, because this kiss, you've been dreaming of for so long, still feels incomplete. And it won't feel complete until you feel Niks lips just as you felt Johns.
“I'm sorry, I should have…” You can't even muster a coherent answer as you feel a heavy lump, coming up your throat and stinging your eyes. You can't even explain to them, how deeply fucked are you.
 “No-no-no, what's with the horrified eyes, zvezdochka*?” Nikolai cups your face gently, and you turn fully to him. “No, don't worry. You see, John is already much better. I think, he will take his meds religiously from now on. Don't you, Price?”
“I will.” John's voice is still breathy and gruff.
“I just… Can we forget-”
Nik cuts you off by planting a soft, caring kiss on your forehead. He had this habit of kissing your face innocently for ages, but right now his touch means so much more than ever before.
Forgiveness. Maybe even approval.
He doesn't move away, and you hide in a shadow under his chin.
“Talk to me, little star. What brought you down? What made you cut off such a beautiful kiss?”
You feel Nikolais deep voice reverberating in his chest, you relax under Johns palm, resting on your back. And then you find a courage to speak.
“I didn't want you to feel left out. This must sound disgusting, it's so complicated to tell it in a way, it would sound  normal.”
“Mind if I help you?” You feel his lips forming every syllable as he still presses them against your skin. 
You nod and feel his smile.
His lips travel down your left cheek, leaving a trail of feather kisses. You didn't even think, that this man can be so tender. You close your eyes, letting him take away all your doubts one by one.
There's only his breath hitching with little chuckles between the kisses, the cradle of his palms, bringing you closer, the comfort of his voice, when his lips hover over yours.
“May I kiss you?”
You're too deep in the embrace of his grace to remember, that it's supposed to be wrong. Another nod, a subtle one, but it's enough. Nikolai doesn't just kiss - he tastes, explores your lips, while the easy caress of his fingers is mapping over the places where you’re tense and knotted. Every touch is intoxicating, it lures you even further until you give in and relax completely. Your hand snakes to the back of his head, fingers drown in his dark hair, and Nikolai purrs into your mouth. He's so attentive to your desires, that he parts his lips right away, when he feels the touch of your tongue.
Go on. Try him. Have him the way you wanted for so long.
As you indulge yourself in this lasting kiss, a wave of heat awakes on the back oh your shoulder and runs in every direction of your body. John was so quiet, so soft, that you didn't even notice him, until he tugged the collar of your shirt down and placed a long kiss against your exposed skin.
But when you realize what is happening, your brain refuses to keep functioning. You're trapped between their warm figures dwarfing your body, but you feel free for the first time around them. You catch John's head blindly in a silent plead to not leave you and to your joy, he only closes the gap between you two. You feel lightheaded as their lips leave wet trails on your face, neck and shoulders. 
“A wildly beautiful little star. So gentle, so generous for us.” You practically feel Nikolai's content smile before he nips your skin lightly, drawing a sharp inhale from you.
“I don't want to leave this bed. Ever.” John's husky rumble echoes inside your chest.
Each time you turn your head to either of them and your lips meet yet again - you hear their low hums, growing into nearly moans. They don't mind sharing. Quite the opposite, to be precise: they welcome the idea. But each of them is just so hungry for more of you - their voices give them away. 
“You smell bloody delicious, darling.” Price's beard tingles your jaw, as he speaks.
“You taste delicious,” tops up Nikolai.
As if their lips weren't enough to drive you to the edge - their hands become more demanding with every next little squeeze, every brush of fingertips against the exposed skin. You barely control yourself, trying to hold on to both of them. But they make sure, you're being taken care off carried away from the world in their arms. 
It feels so good - it's almost too much. You can't even remember yourself, when a long moan escapes you. And they both stop. Still holding you gently, still stroking your hair, they both give time and space to find yourself in this very moment. But instead of that, your mind in being swarmed with a million of questions immediately.
Do they hate you now? Think you're insane? Is this the end of your friendship?
“I need to stop.” You freeze in horror, thinking that they will let go of you right there.
But they don't. They still hold you, just don't try to kiss you again.
“I'm sorry, I-”
“Don't be.” John brushes a strand of hair from your forehead.
“Little star is absolutely right to put this on pause, John. We need to take things slow, if we don't want to fuck any of this up.” Nikolai looks from Price back to you and smiles. “Both me and John been waiting for a long time, zvezdochka. Seems like forever. Just for a single touch. For a single minute spent this close.”
You turn to John with eyes full of disbelief. And he speaks to you.
“A last thing, I would want, is to rush into this, and push, and… bloody lose this.” He runs his fingers down your cheekbone and touches the very corner of your shy smile. “So how about we call this a goodnight kiss? You can stay here, I'll go crash on a couch.”
“Or I can drive you home, if you feel like you need time alone to let things settle in, little one,” adds Nik, pressing you against his chest.
You freeze in uncertainty for a moment. And then a question emerges from the deepest layers of your uncertainty.
“Was it a good kiss?”
Price smiles, bringing his face once again closer to yours. 
“The first thing I do tomorrow - I write Nikolai, asking if today wasn't my feverish dream. That's how good it was. Then we will start to figure out, how to ask you for a date. Not a friend date - a real one. I will be eating my meds like a happy idiot, smiling to the memory of you here. And I will count hours to that date, should you say yes. That's how good it was.”
You close your eyes to his lips touching against your cheeks.
Later that evening Nik will drive you home and you will ask him, if hes not disappointed by everything, that happened, or not happened.
“Disappointed?” He will chuckle. “I've had the best nights I have had in… cant remember, how long.”
He will keep things sweet and relatively soft on your threshold: just a few lingering, but not too long kisses.
“Give us just a little time, my star, let us believe in our own luck, realise, that you do indeed want the same thing as we two - and we will take you on the best date, you ever had.”
*zvezdochka - little star
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simp-ly-writes · 2 days
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Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.7)
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Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader
Summary: Kidnapped, heartbroken, and thoroughly pissed off, you become a one man team- breaking through restraints, into houses and cars to find a way back home.
Warnings: 5000~ words, light swearing, blood, violence, torture.
A/N: these chapters keep getting longer and longer it seems. I will try and hold back my yapping... anyways! hope you all enjoy! :)
Masterlist | Taglist Request | un-edited.
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Body bruised and scraped from being thrown around with the various landscaping tools around you, your head slammed against the door as the vehicle came to a halt. You took deep breaths in and out, picking up the dead-fish smell in the air. You were near the industry sector and by the sounds of the gravel crunching beneath everyone’s feet, you were upshore. 
Three slams against a metal door and it creaked open and you pushed inside, stumbling with the bag over your head and losing balance as your feet were chained together as well. Shuffling back to a stand, the men above you laughed before a bucket of ice cold water was drenched over your body making you instantly shiver. 
Breathing in through your nose sharply as the bag was then torn off your head, you found yourself lazily strapped to a wooden chair- it creaked everytime you shifted your weight. Eyes blurry to the newfound light, you blinked a few times before the once blob in front of your face turned into features and a broken-toothed smile was gracing just before your lips. Their cigarette breath causes bile to rise up in your throat yet you kept a natural expression, staring between their eyes to the crooked bridge of their nose. 
A cigarette was being lit to your left side, they flicked the ashes on your suit as the sparks burned against your skin. Taking a quick glance down, you tried not to frown seeing your once beige suit now a tattered mess of brown and grey with various cuts breaking the soft plaid pattern. The head man, the one to choke you in the first place, takes a step back and sits on a metal chair behind himself, taking a drag of the shared cigarette before mockingly dangling it in your face. “Want a drag, dearest?” 
You make no comment, just staring off past his shoulder, silently observing your surroundings for more clues. You press your head against your shoulder, mocking a scratch behind your ear as your comms flood your eardrums once more. Samantha is crying and losing her actual shit as John raises his tone at one of the nearby officers- not allowing him to check the security footage. That makes sense as to why Samantha is currently losing it- more unnecessary work to hack into the system. 
Thinking to yourself, this is more relaxing, getting to sit down and take a break, being on the receiving end of the saving than being the sole savior. You can’t help but produce a small smirk as you roll back your shoulders and lean back into the chair, spreading your legs for comfort. “You gettin’ comfortable there? Good, enjoy it while you can. God knows- I know- the work you’ll be doing after this with a body like yours.” 
You chuckle, foot now dragging up his leg and positioned in his lap. “But why go through all the hassle, sir? When I could stay, just, right… here” you foot ghosts over his lower abdomen, you relish the sharp intake of breath that signals success. “Mmm, well as good as that would be for the both of us…” he takes a drag of his cigarette, finishing it off on your leg as it places a burn mark on your ankle. “...my brothers could use someone like you, a fighter, a killer of their own. Takes a special kind of fucked up to do the things you have done…” his hand now drags up your leg, fingers dancing over every cut to touch the skin of your leg as you stay still. 
“...and if you remain that kind of person for em’, I can only promise rewards beyond your imagination,” he finishes with, stopping his chase of skin at your upper thighs before carrying your leg off his lap and standing. “Now before we get started, is there anything you wish to tell your newest contractor?”
“And what information would that include?” you press forward, blinking twice. “Anythin’ you are wishing to share before I force it outta ya, making both of our jobs easier.”
“Ask your men to leave and I’ll be an open book, can have a nice date about it,” you counter-offer, smile returning to match his one. With one motion of his hand, the room clears outside of the warehouse, the rusty door creaking closed to a slam. “Speak.”
“I was contracted to Greece in order to capture that royal you were after-”
“Who was your contractor then?” They lean forward, as if smelling your hair as you face forwards, tone even. “Undisclosed- manager wanted utmost privacy and I respected that, which made the job easier in the end.”
“And if the job was as easy as you said, why waste tears over a tool to be used for the bag?” They whisper into your ear, you swear to feel them smirk as a bead of sweat drips down your forehead, racing towards the muddied floors below. You wrap a leg around your chair, your hands almost free from the cheap rope they used from the gardiners truck as you access the best way to take this man to the ground and to make your escape. 
“I am loyal,” you state, the one truth you have slipped today. “Well that is a blessing and a curse, we have a dilemma on our hands already with you…” His hand drifts up, resting on the back of your neck. You pray that Samantha shuts the fuck up in your ear, unknowling if he can hear her screaming or not. “...Very, very loyal it seems. I am disappointed. Seems as though you already need a lesson, a shame.”
And with that, his fist slams against the bag of your head as you fall towards the floor, finally freed. You snake your feet around his ankles, forcing him down with you and cover his mouth with one of your hands, racing to unhook your necktie as you force it around his throat, trying to buy yourself more time by muffleing his pain. He uses his body weight to roll out from under you, slamming a kick to your side as you curse out. The tie falls around his neck as he wobbles to a stand and you begin to run, hearing the doors slam open as your hand just graces the exit. 
Bullets are flying around your head as you duck and weave over the various barrels in the room, looking for a window as another set of guards burst through the door you were just about to use. Quicking throwing yourself back around, you twist your arm with the motions, a series of knives falling from between your suit's fabric and directly between their eyes. Pressing your hand to your ear, “I need immediate evac, industry sector, meeting at south rally point when available.” 
Glass cuts across your face as you fly out the window and roll into a run. Trees rip past and blur your surroundings as you follow the sun above you. The sounds of the sea call to you as you make a sharp turn in their direction, their shouts muffled by the ringing in your ears as you hear your shallow breathing, feel as if time is moving slowly for you once more as your body jerks forward. A dull aching feeling against your back, they managed a shot. 
The sound of a boat horn slams through your consciousness as you slip down a hill, lengths over extending as you race onto a rammed road filled with cars against the coastline. Drivers honk as you race between cars in the road, policemen call after you, guns raised as well as you race to the front of the accident. A series of cars wait, driving slowly past the crash, the car nowhere to be seen but the rip in the divider separating road from sea as you shake your head before ripping over a divers door.
The woman shrieks at you scream out apology after apology, ripping the keys out from her hands before slamming on the gas and racing down the seaside. Sirens sound from behind you as you see the red and blue lights flashing in your rearview mirror as you curse out. Drifting around a corner as the radio decides to start itself in the junk of a car you managed for yourself. 
You roll your eyes at the “white girl” music plays through the radio as you find yourself soaring through another seaside town, car picking up the various displays set on the small street as lights attach to your side mirrors, carrying them down the street with you like a “just-married” car. 
You make a sour face at the thought, eyes saddening as look around your surroundings for directions to the nearest rallypoint, the cops in mad pursuit still behind you, some even sneaking up the road in front. A spike trap sounds, popping your wheels as sparks behind to fly, you punch open the window as the song finishes to your bumper crashing into the side of a building. You fall out the side of the car, running up the skin as your legs and lungs burn. Adrenaline causing your hands to feverishly shake as you climb up the lattice of a townhome and crash into their living space. A little boy screams at you as you hold your hands up, pleading that you do not mean to harm the small child before you race down the galley kitchen and slam into the wall, turning to find another glass door to a balcony where the next apartment appears empty. 
Jumping across the balcony and onto the next, you break the glass door, and feel for the door handle on the other side. It is dark and sparsely decorated. You feel around the kitchen for a cup, taking a minute to take a sip of water from the tap before throwing the glass to the floor- trying to hide any biological evidence of yourself before looking wildly for the stairs downstairs.   
You fail to hear your communications during this chase, your radio buffering in and out as you curse out to Simon's concerned voice asking for an update to your location. You finally find the stairs, emerging onto the town streets once more as you hide yourself in an alleyway. Watching as the blue uniformed men and women carry up the street. Looking over the various backdoors, you find a logo with a dress on it and softly open and close the door to what appears to be a storage room. 
You shuffle through the various boxes, finding a range of formal garments and finally at the back, a box of clothes to be donated; shoes and casual wear alike, as you strip yourself of your tattered suit and force it into the bottom of the box. You press your hair down, taking out your earring- knowing that they would make you some serious cash from being pure gold as you strip off your watch with a sad wince. Note to self, no longer wear gifts on missions. 
Walking back onto the street with a more casual stride, you find a pawn shop a few blocks down as your stomach gurgles and gain a few thousands dollars that you stuff into your pockets as the shopkeeper does not bat to fucks to. Clothes, Money, check and check. 
You just needed food, a good drink and a car out of here. Thankfully you found a small street-side vendor as you ordered yourself an espresso shot and breakfast sandwich as your mouth salivated at the sight of it. Humming out contently at the taste of it as you walked back down to the seaside to examine your destruction- stealing a hat off a rack as you walked down the streets. The fedora covered your features as you pressed your head down, taking another sip of your drink while eyeing around for a phone. 
A tourist couple was just about to pay for a bill- perfect. “Excuse me,” you smiled brightly at the two of them, “Is there anything we can help you with?” The woman asked kindly, her charming posh british accent relaxing your features. “Yes, would you mind if I made a quick call to my spouse on the phone- I can’t seem to find them down here.”
“Ah, no problem dear! Here you are, take as much time as you need, we are just finishing up here.”
“Thank you so much!” You flash another smile back, turning your back as it drops just as quickly, your fingers fly across the digits as two rings pass and Kyle's voice sounds in your ear. “Who is this?”
“Oh Kyle darling,” you fake a loving tone, breathing out an exaggerated sigh of relief as your eyes scan the streets. “I can’t seem to find you anywhere, see I am waiting at…” you look up to see the restaurant's name. “... Lola’s, where are you currently?”
You humm to every word he speaks, nodding your head lightly as you grip the phone, smiling at an officer that passes you by with a tip of their hat. “The team and I are about thirty minutes out from your location, are you able to keep this phone?”
“No, sorry dear, I do not see you, ummm, is there a place we could meet up between the both of us?”
“I am dear now?” Kyle chuckles out, “What happened to darling?” you roll your eyes, coughing for him to cut the crap. “Walk 10 minutes east through the alleyways till you see Pearl Bar and Shop, silver car.” 
“Alright! Heading over now, see you in a few sweetheart!” and you end the call, sending a thanks to the couple before making your way back into the town core. Various scooters race past you in bright colours, kids kick their soccer balls around the fountain as mothers sit on its ledge, snapping pictures happily. You smile sadly at the sight, your eyes drifting back to the sea, to Whitby, as a cold breeze snaps against your skin as you stumble from the pressure of its ghast and slide back into the alleyways- towards the meet point. 
--
“You look like shit,” Soap comments ever-so-kindly with a chuckle before offering you a sip of beer as you sit at the back of the plane on your way back to headquarters. “Well you kill fifteen guys, one of them your potential spouse, get kidnapped, traumatize a child and then sit on a plane with four men for the next few hours.” 
“Well when you put it like that…” you shove his shoulder, walking further up the plane and check up on Simon in the cockpit. “How much longer we got?” you groan out, pressing your head against the doorway as Ghost takes a quick glance back at you, setting the plane to autopilot. “You holding up alright, Handler?” Not answering your question as you send him a glare. 
“What do you all fuckin’ think- you all seem to high and jolly with this shit-”
“And you appear like it's not affecting you all that much-” 
“WELL WHEN ELSE HAVE YOU SEEN ME A DISHEVELLED MESS IN A FEDORA AND SANDALS?” you scream out, taking another deep sink of your drink, sliding against the wall and to the floor as Gaz unbuckles himself from his seat to kneel in front of you. “I am sorry you have had to go through these things, Dee…” you shake your head at his words. 
“No you all don’t understand-”
“No, we do Daniels, and here's the thing. It only gets more fucked up from here on out, you lose the ones you love, you hate yourself for it, you want to fucking kill them yourself for making you feel guilty, kill everyone, kill yourself. We all wanna do it, we all have people we are fighting for- livin’ and dead but here's the thing. Its a job at the end of the day, no matter how fucked up it is, no matter how much we cry and bitch about it- we do our job so that other’s hands stay clean,” John states, turning around from the other piloting seat as he now leans against the doorframe, looking down at you. 
You stay quiet absorbing his words as he continues to speak, “we will mourn the loss, he was a good man- a great man to all the good he did for others but he wouldn’t want you this way. Not even right after his death- he always cheered on your fight. Now the decision is up to you, are you staying to fight or are you gonna wallow and retire?” 
You nod your head along before slamming your head back against the metal wall, needing the coldness to ease the tension in your muscles. “I’m gonna fight,” you speak in a soft tone- still trying to convince yourself of the idea. “... thank you, John. You’re the first person to not sugar coat my losses… needed to hear it.” 
John hums out, leaving down to give your shoulder a squeeze in an awkward side hug before taking control of the plane once more as Simon moves to take a nap at the back of the plane. “Want another beer?” Johnny yells as Simon throws a pillow in his face. You press your hand into a thumbs up, leaning so the signal is visible from down the hall as the glass bottle rolls to your feet as you and Gaz take sips while in a staring contest with one another.
--
12:00 PM | Spring | Eglinton Funeral Home and Cemetery 
You are severely drunk at Whitby's funeral, his parents stand to the side, unknowing to who you and your entourage was that stand at the back underneath a willow tree whose branches drift off towards the sun's rays. 141 and you are dressed to the tens in three-piece suits, pure black accents - you all are shadows of yourselves. Watching as the family and friends walk away you step forwards and stand in front of the open casket, the first thing you notice is his missing glasses. Fixing a hair on his rested head your fingers shake over his cheek before grasping his hand one last time. To your surprise when you unravel it, a diamond ring falls out into your palm as you chuckle back a sob and place it into his suit pocket- right above his heart. 
You bow your head, whispering a prayer before taking one last look and finally turn your back on the past. You stumble in your shoes over the uneven pavement stones towards the event hall where ushed cries and somber music play with trays of fresh fruit displayed against the back wall. You blow your nose into your handkerchief before guzzling down a glass of water as Gaz pats your back reassuringly when a family member walks by, glaring at your group. They all didn’t know the shit you both got up to together, how close you were- close to so much more… 
Shaking your head, John came back with a plate of fruit for you all to pick at as Whitby’s will is read aloud. You need to sit as you fumble with the buttons of your suit, suddenly feeling too hot as the rest of your crew stands around to shield you from the curious stares of the fellow funeral goers. “Friends, Family, and those connected to Sir Wyatt Whitby. We gather here today to remember a man of great strength, who served his country and had a great sense of humor.” 
A series of posh chuckles sound around the room as you feel yourself mentally drifting further and further away from this moment. You would have never fit in with his family, if you ever were to tell them of the danger you put their son into… you probably wouldn’t be breathing any longer… and with that thought, there was a deep part of you that believed you deserved such treatment from your more recent history. 
--
In the few months leading up to the funeral, Whitby’s body had been frozen and preserved so that the headquarters could stage a more believable death to the agent for his remaining family and outside friends. This violently disgusted you, having to see him every time you went to check biological evidence with the scientists in the west wing. Yet John’s words were concrete, pouding in your skull, “fight like he would want you to…” and so you did, and rather brutally at that. 
You forced yourself back onto the field, demanding it from upper management- refusing promotion after promotion as Samantha became your new Handler in this turn of events. You often wore dark blue navy suits to hide the blood that drenched every part of the fabric as you shot and hacked away at various bodies on your missions. No witnesses to be left between you and the goal. You will never forget the fearful eyes of that one politician as you gripped their shoulder into the helicopter, your bloody hand staining their crisp white shirt and some of it began to drip into your eye from your hair yet you could not care. 
Management was thoroughly satisfied with your independent work- you were the most requested contractor. Money was following in- so much so that you lost reasons to spend it, letting the stacks build under your floorboards and in your jacket pockets before you were floating between bodies, drugs, and the bottom of empty bottles with glasses smashed against dust on the bartop. 
You were far gone, everyone at headquarters joked that you had taken form to a rockstar as you flipped them the bird. Sitting at your desk as you choked down a coffee and pain medication, your head still pounding in rhythm to last night's DJ as you swirled around your desk chair, looking up at the ceiling as if you were dancing. 
Laswell had called you endlessly, begging for you to reply after every night so she knew you made it home alright, that not another one of her close friends was gone in this line of work. You Stopped replying, 141 never showed up for their last mission, and when you looked at yourself in the mirror- you were as good as dead. Severe bags under your eyes, sex hair was your new hairstyle as lipstick stained every shirt you wore- matching the deep reds of your suits. You were fighting to keep yourself alive, is this what Whitby would want? You chuckle darkly to yourself, calling out to the new secretary that you would be taking your break at the storefront as you lit a cigarette, tapping the embers to the street as your ankle burned in memory. 
You leaned against the bright building, blowing the smoke to meet the clouds above as you savoured the bitter taste in your lungs. Your throat burned for more drink, your eyes dry but when a shadow overtook the sun, you opened your eyes- surprised to find them closed and saw a masked-face man tilting his head down at you. “Hello Simon, come to tell me off?” you press, throwing your cigarette to the ground and stopping it down with your boot. 
“No. But I am here for our last mission.”
You humm out, trying to rack your tired mind as to when you have received a new debrief. “Fill me in them,” you state, feeling around your suit for another distraction before a gloved hand grips your wrist gently, pulling it out of your suit jacket and down to your side. They do not let go, just looking over your shoulder before leading you back inside the building where Laswell waits, leaning against the counter as she speaks to Samantha. Gaz views the various ties in the display cabinet as Johnny forces himself not to touch the various new products in the windowsill. John observes everyone from the front door and you can’t help the heartache that bellows in your stomach to the scene before you- so reminiscent of your first meeting together. 
Laswell runs over, pulling you into a hug as her nose scrunches up at the bruises against your throat and the cigarette breath you breathe. You pat her back stiffly before she pulls away, wiping away a few tears as you lean against the stair railing that leads to the supplies room upstairs. Simon stands still behind you, giving Samantha a nod as she turns back around the counter and disappears into the back. 
John walks slowly up to you, replacing Kate as he frowns at the sight of you. You wince at his features scrutinizing your every decision that leads to now before looking down at your boots, unable to meet him in the eyes any longer to the guilt that consumes your being. “I would say it's good to see you again, but I was worried you would be something like this when we got called back-”
“Thanks John, just what I wanted to hear…” you interrupt sarcastically, moving around the man to hug Gaz and Soap in greeting before sitting on top of the counter- right beside the till. Laswell leans against the wood beside you, looking through the various emails on her phone as you start to tap your nails against the treated wood. 
“... I fought, long and hard I hope you all know. But now… now I think- I don't actually think,” you laugh to yourself as Gaz winces, looking towards his Captain who had yet to drop his attention from you. John walks up to you once more, holding up your chin so that your eyes meet. You cast him a cheesy fake smile as he hums out, “I’m sorry…”
“What for?” you raise a brow, not clicking in his somber tone as Laswell stares sadly into the side of your head- thinking that you are unknowing. 
“For not showing you what to fight for. It's one thing to say something, another to not follow through,” John finishes speaking, dropping his touch as you hold your head up more clearly as you look around the room. “Not your fault, everyone!” you announce, clapping your hands together as you move to stand and walk around the counter, trying to move back to headquarters- brushing off the words. “Sorry for making you all come back here, I’m still here, no need for worry or anything…” 
“But that's just the thing,” Soap comments as you snap your head back to face him. “We are staying here for our next mission.”
“Then what is this fucking mission?” you stress back out, pinching the bridge of your nose as the nicotine has started to wear off. 
“You,” Gaz states simply, throwing a tie your way with a smile. 
“Now it's time to get to work,” Laswell announces, shoving you through the door as you begin to protest and that's how you found yourself here, at this funeral with a bunch of strangers unknowing to his actual death and task force 141. 
--
Your attention snaps back to the will presenter at the sound of your name, “And to my dearest-Dee, thank you for teaching me that the present is enough of a gift that you need not worry about the past or future. I love you darling, and maybe one day we will dance together again but for now- it's time you took some lessons and find a new partner, I will be waiting to see all your new moves and maybe then you will finally tell me your first name.”
You burst out laughing, it echoes throughout the hall, cutting through every tear, sob, and face filled with sorrows. Your shoulders bend up and down rapidly as you clench at your stomach, folding yourself in half as you almost fall off your chair. Soap was not there to place a hand to your shoulder to halt any further movements. You look up to the ceiling, watching as the sun casts through the skylights above as you blink away your tears, trying to even out your breathing while fanning your cheeks with your hands as the reading presumes once more and you make your way outside.
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↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @lilliumrorum @brokenpieces-72 @ashy-kit @notsaelty @hindi-si-ikay @sleepyycatt @no-lessthan3 @cod-z
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Grumpy!Reader
This is the masterlist of all of the Grumpy!Reader Drabbles. This reader is gender neutral and with John Price.
Your Kid Throws Their Ball into John Price's Backyard
John Price Meets Your Kid
John Price Taking You and Your Kid to a Fair
John Price Meets Your Ex
Call to the Headteacher's Office
Your Kid Calling John Price "Dad"
John Price Asking Your Kid Permission to Marry You
The Proposal
This masterlist is possibly ending soon! (I think all I have to do is write the wedding & that'll be it, unless someone requests for it.)
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thegnomelord · 1 day
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speaking of a cod apocalypse (i think actually idk i just skimmed over my tl) thoughts on the boys becoming some sort of fucked up mutated creatures?
like they're soldiers, right? and assuming the government sends them out to deal with whatever apocalyptic shit there is, surely one of them makes a stupid mistake that'll cost them their lives. fast forward to them succumbing to whatever radioactive shit decided to live in their bodies, and they're dead but alive? and like... just grotesque things. they're still them, just more brutal and monstrous. maybe their skin is melting off, maybe they're growing another limb or two, maybe they have teeth growing on their head.
anyways, thoughts on this kind of genre???? :))))
(i think itd be cool if like.... some of them merged together, just a mass of limbs and skin :33)
Okay, consider: Horizon zero dawn world, full of killer machines and tribes n shit, combined with the virus from the Prototype (that and darksiders are my fav games of all time tbh) also body horror, specifically the blend of machine and flesh bh, is my favorite shit :Dd this is a rough idea
So like as killer machines were sweeping across the planet, devouring everything in sight and replicating, a disease was created that, it was hoped, would be able to infect and eat away at the metal. But it fails, the virus ends up infecting the soldiers that are fighting against the machines and just, combining the human and machine.
The world eventually goes so far to shit that everything on the planet dies. The war machines become deactivated and some of the machine/human mutants are sealed away in bunkers to be used as experiments.
And just like, the 141 becoming a blend of steel and flesh in the grotesque approximation of what they used to be, able to strip away parts of other machines and graft them to their own forms.
Gaz was the first, fighting on the front lines back when he had foolishly believed the killer robots could be defeated. He had gotten separated when he got infected, the fear secondary only to the pain as his flesh literally melted into the corruptors, bone and muscle becoming tangled in gears and wires until all he could feel were his numerous stilt like legs now scrambled to gain purchase on the blood soaked ground . Turned into some weird metal scorpion bellow the waist, weaponry weighing on his back and coolant full wires snaking across his body, Kyle had passed out from the pain, his body further changing in his slumber to grow skin and eyes over the raw metal.
He woke up deep underground in a bunker, turned into a science experiment.
Price was next. He was a soldier turned scientist, working on a subfunction of the teraforming AI that would work to clear the world of the virus that had unleashed. He was the soft voice of comfort Kyle would listen to when they pricked and prodded him, the person Kyle spilled his heart out time and time again.
It came as little surprise when Price became infected. He had started to feel lethargic and sick for the few days, all of it going unnoticed as no one knew how the virus affected humans. That was until he came in contact with a Plowhorn, that changed him into a bulwark of flesh and metal, a living tank with a heavy crest of horns sitting on his head and thick metal plates to protect him.
Price and Kyle kept each other from going insane, figuring out the worst part of the virus — they had become immortal like the machines, but still felt pain like people, pain muddling their brains when pistons and gears would grind against flesh again and again until it regrew in a different way.
They were finally freed when the people experimenting on them died and the AI released the locks of the doors. They emerged hell knows how many years later, taking the first steps into a reborn world that was still crying in it's cradle.
Soap was amongst the first humans to emerge from the mechanical cradle, thrust into a wild and untamed world full of strange machines, with no tools but his hands. While out trying to scavange some of the metal from downed glinthawks he was attacked by Scrappers, ending up infected with the virus that had been slumbering in the earth. Soap became like the sphinx, glinthawk wings attaching to his back with wires, talons merging with skin and pushing out bone, the body of the scraper combining with his own until he was unable to stand on two legs, forced to crawl on all fours and screech in pain through distorted vocal chords until Price and Gaz found him. They took care of him until he was used to his body enough to soar through the air about as well as he could run across the earth.
Simon was the last, born to a tribe that valued strength and worshipped the machines above all. And Simon is the only one who's convergence to steel has any semblence of thought or preparation. He had spent years hunting Fireclaws, tearing off the intact pieces and pistons after every hunt until the shamans of his tribe deemed him ready to become one of the metal gods. The change was slow and painful, bones melting and hardening around new metal, body getting bigger and flesh stretching to fit the new frame, heavy claws weighing on his muscular arms until Simon had become Ghost.
It wasn't what he expected. What he had done in an attempt to fit in amongst his kin served to further push him away as his tribe worshipped him as one of the machine gods, erasing his name as Simon. It was a relief when he met the others, finding comfort in their disfigured and grotesque bodies that looked so similar like his own.
And then you meet them.
Maybe you're a foolish mercenary that stumbled too far into the wild, maybe you're one of the subfunctions of the original teraforming AI that gained sentience. Either way, you didn't fear them, you tried to talk to them, to get to know them even when every societal law of your tribe deemed them as monsters and demons.
And on one random evening, when they had all settled into a rough cuddle pile, scarred flesh over sharp metal creating enough of a cushion for you to sleep in the middle of them all — safe and warm... It occured to them: you are nice, you are kind, and they want to to stay by their side.
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dante-mightdie · 2 days
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john price is the husband standing behind his wife whilst she looks through the clothing racks in shops, burly arms holding the pretty designer handbag he bought you with your little pomeranian poking its head out of the garment
he knows this dog is your baby. he has no qualms with this since he bought you the damn thing. payed for a matching hot pink bejewelled collar and leash, best pet insurance money can buy, and even spends a good chunk of change on some fancy raw diet for the think
just imagine this big burly bloke walking down the street at night with this tiny little pup trotting along beside him, deep gruff voice calling out what ever ridiculous name you chose for the thing. grumbled complaints about your spoiling them when the dog flat out refuses to walk back and makes your husband carry them all the way home
“good bloody walk that was”
rolls his eyes when he gets home and you immediately start fussing over your little baby, soft coos and high-pitched baby-talk as you take the dog from him with your perfectly-manicured nails. not even giving john any attention when he had also returned home
“happy wife, happy life…”
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angel-of-despairs · 18 hours
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RAHHHHHHHHH
I’m screaming he sent me this😭💕
But no lie I feel like ghost and price would send you an audio message from time to time just so you could send one back because they missed you
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aleskyyy · 3 days
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MASTERLIST
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COD MW2
Captain John Price
John Price x Wife!Reader 18+ MDNI
Your husband comes home after his deployment.
Lt. Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Simon Riley Headcanon
Simon meets a reader who works as a barista.
Sgt. John 'Soap' MacTavish
Coming soon . . .
Sgt. Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
Saved 18+ MDNI
Three years of marriage with your husband who you thought would change for the better and he didn't. And finally being saved by someone who has been around you all along but both of you didn't know it.
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⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇
priest!johnprice x reader set around the 1500's where he is all you can think about. How his hands fit around the the graced chalice, symbolizing the blood of his savior, and those same hands around your neck, in you.
priest!john price where during mass he looks in the crowd for you, and traces your naked collar bones from your dress, and how they would look stained red the same shade as the wine he drinks.
priest!john price, heavy lidded looking at you on your knees fingers intertwined with each other, thinking how you would look at him with your doe eyes as you were to be on your knees for him.
He wants to taste you, again and again, like a secret, or more so like a sin.
⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇
Ugh! Just can't take it away from my head, an innocent yet sinister Price in this scenario. Just know this is purely fictional and not a bash on any religion, faith or ideals. Just an idea.
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Price and CIA!Reader having their "song" as Suspicious Minds.
Dancing together, swaying in their kitchen together.
"We're caught in a trap, I can't walk out. Because I love you too much, baby," Price would rumble with you held close to his chest.
"And I know all your dirty little secrets, Captain," you'd smirk against him as you squeeze both his ass cheeks in your hands.
"That you do," he'd chuckle before continuing to hum along to the song as you waltz around the kitchen until the song ends.
[Legit just swooning while listening to Elvis and thinking about our Boonie-clad menace]
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