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#john price fluff
nrdmssgs · 2 days
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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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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days
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[The True Me] John Price*Reader
Be selfish when you’re with me.
short fluff :) sleepy and tired Price
“You’re a human too, John.”
“At the base, you’re a captain, but to me, you are John Price.”
“be yourself, be more selfish, when you’re with me.”
“tell me what’s wrong, or what you want, show me your vulnerabilities. You’re safe here, in my arms.”
“you got anything you want now?”
“hold me tighter, love.”
“anything else?”
“can you tell me why you chose to stay with me?”
“of course, but I’m afraid you might need to hear a damn long speech, darling.”
“That’s the best bedtime story.”
“Okay, you remember the day we first met…”
Price lies on your lap, your soft voice recalling those memories you two shared, while your fingers stroke his hair tenderly.
Drowsiness starts consuming him, if it’s the days he’s still alone, he will try to fight the sleepiness, or sleep with one eye open.
but in this house, drowning in your presence, he knows he can let his guard down.
Maybe he will still be haunted by blood and darkness in his nightmares after falling asleep, yet with you, he knows he can show you the true him when he startles awake with fear.
No rest for the wicked, they said, but at least he has you granting him respite.
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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
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Government name vs Military callsign
Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: none
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John Price
Government name.
Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.
“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”
Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.
“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”
“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”
He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.
“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”
When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.
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Simon Riley
Military callsign.
When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.
“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”
“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 
Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.
“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.
“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”
Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 
A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.
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Kyle Garrick
Government name.
He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.
“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”
Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.
If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?
“Kyle Ga-”
“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”
You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”
He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”
“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”
He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 
“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.
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John MacTavish
Military callsign.
He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.
Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.
“SOAP!”
Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.
“JOHNNY!”
“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.
“C’mere, c’mere.”
He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”
You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”
He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”
“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”
“You called me Soap.”
“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”
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Posted: 2023 Dec 10
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ghostlywhiskey · 4 months
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price who has held babies before - whether it has been nieces, nephews or the children of various friends, he has experience with kids.
but, it's also price who gets scared when he's finally able to hold his newborn. the pillow rests on his lap while the nurse carefully takes the baby from your arms, heading over to pass the baby to price. once resting on the pillow, his hands gently hovering incase he decides to move. the nurse quietly letting you know to just press the button if you need anything while she heads out to give you two alone time with the newborn.
"john?" your voice quieter than normal, the screaming and crying from earlier during the labor had worn you out.
he doesn't move or make a sound, it's as if his chest has stopped rising and falling with his breaths. his eyes completely focused on the baby placed on the pillow on his lap. it takes him a few moments to register you saying his name, but when it clicks in his head he is glancing over at you in the hospital bed.
"yeah?" he whispers, scared his voice is going to alert the resting newborn. or would the baby recognize his voice from when he was inside your stomach? all the times he had you put the phone near your bump when he was away so he could "talk" to the baby. or when he was home and would take every chance he got press his lips against the bump and tell the baby growing inside how much he loved them.
"are you okay?"
the man who begged to have a baby. the man who would hold your face to look at him every time he promised he would give you a baby followed by three more. the man who proudly told everyone he was going to be a father once you hit the second trimester.
the man who did all these things was now speechless with the product of his words (and actions).
"yeah." was all he could manage again, eyes now back on the newborn. his hand gently resting his palm on the top of the baby's head, thumb gently caressing the forehead. stirring slightly, the baby shifted; tiny hands forming weak fists but only the smallest yawn releasing.
john's other hand resting by the legs, gently holding the baby in place while he shifted to make sure he wouldn't roll or anything. he was so scared of dropping him, even while he just rested on his lap on a pillow.
"john," your voice broke his attention to look over at you again. "you can hold him. it's okay."
the reassuring words had him look back at the baby once more. but this time, carefully and slowly he adjusted his arms to hold the baby. the large man cradling the tiny human he was so scared would break if he made one wrong move.
once secured in his arms, john stood up. feet walking him around the hospital room as he looked down at the baby he held close to him, making sure he was holding him securely but not too tightly. his feet finally stopping him next to your hospital bed.
"it's nice to finally meet you." price's voice was a whisper again, still scared his normal octave would alert the baby. but you watched as he spoke to the baby, his own ramblings making you smile. and you heard how price got comfortable returning to his normal tone, a smile appearing on his face as the baby stirred once more; but, not in an alarming way, but hands trying to grab for something. for price. so, he held the baby securely in one arm now. his other hand moving to reach for the tiny ones; one of the baby's hands clasping around price's finger.
and it was quiet for a moment, until it was price's words that pulled your attention now.
"thank you." your eyes met and you noticed the tears forming in his. he didn't need to thank you. you'd choose him every time to be the father of your kids. so, you shook your head, tears forming in your eyes now but a smile accompanying them.
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alwaysshallow · 6 months
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hey babes, for the drabbles in the inbox post all I can think of is price with a breeding kink so upset he's "too old to give you a baby" only for him to end up with a wife pregnant with their 2nd baby
Fifth time, sixteenth test, and he's fuming. He doesn't even look at you, and you feel bad, when he's pacing back and forth around the house, deeply in his thoughts. Normally, you'd try to hug him, like the last times, but somehow, you can't do it now. There's something wrong with his mind, and you just can sense that, even if he's not telling you anything; being with him prepared you enough for moments like these. He's a captain, the head of the team, usually stressing about things himself.
"John, could you finally talk to me?" you ask after another ten minutes, when enough is enough; he suddenly turns around in your direction, like he finally acknowledges that you're here. Apologetic look on his face makes your heart break even more.
"'m sorry, missus." He's quick to sit next to you on the couch, kissing your hand a few times, with hope you're gonna forgive him for ignoring you.
It's what he usually does, and it always breaks your facade, but now you're not mad. Rather, confused, but you don't talk about it with him, when he smiles into your lips and drapes a blanket over you. You two just cuddle on the couch, watching some ridiculously old documentary about war, when he decides to pop the question.
"Why aren't you with someone younger?"
To say you are shocked, would be an understatement; completely bamboozled, you look at Price, your eyebrow cocked. "The fuck are you on?"
He sighs, as he looks down at you; it feels like he doesn't want to fight, but he genuinely asks, which makes you feel weird even more. "Simple question."
You prop yourself up a little, to take a better look at your husband. "Because I love you, and that's settled?"
"Someone younger would give you a baby," he mutters under his breath, as his eyes are on the TV again. John's implication shoots right through you, like a bullet, sharp and hurtful, but not that much for you, as for him. You're quick to sit on his lap fully, to bring his attention to you.
"It's definitely not your fault, John. It might be as well something with me, you know?" you frown, your fingers tracing his bearded jawline, as he still doesn't look at you.
"I waited too long, and now there's the consequences of it." His tone is hard, like he didn't hear your explanation before, and he continues to blame himself for it. Your heart sinks. "'m failin' you, love. If I'd meet you earlier, it would be different. Or if you'd be with someone else, maybe he would give you kids."
"None of that," you say, grabbing his face, to make him look at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but you're quick to put a finger on his lips to shush him; he already told you enough to make you want to do a monologue on him. "We're gonna have kids, even if it will take years, do you hear me, John Price?"
"Affirmative," he replies, kissing you a few times. On lips, cheeks and nose – you learned that doing it this way soothes him. Makes him less nervous than he already is. "I wouldn't blame you, if you'd want to—"
You don't even try to talk to him this time; you just kiss him, interrupting his intrusive thoughts with hope that he'll focus on something else. It's not a surprise when he takes the bait, and he's quick to pick you up in his arms, while you just giggle, knowing that he takes you to bedroom.
Three years later, he's off at deployment, when you learn that you're pregnant again, with your second child. 9 weeks, your gynecologist says, when you look at the scan, thinking how happy you are right now. Tears pricks in the corners of your eyes when you're in your car, taking deep breaths before you'll call your husband.
A lot of thoughts are going inside your head; should you tell him now? He's on the mission, probably doing important things, maybe he doesn't want to be interrupted? Yet, it is an important thing, something that he waited to hear for the longest time, having doubts if he's ever gonna be a father— and now, he's about to be a father for the second time.
"Love, are you okay?"
You blink twice, when you hear him through you phone; you don't even know when you called. "Yeah, baby. I'm okay, why?"
"Been askin' you how's your day, and you tell me nothin'. Got me worried for a second," he laughs, and for some reason, his laugh completely calms you. Before, you were a little scared to even call him, interrupt whatever he was doing.
Now? Now, you're more than excited to tell him the news, since you have time, and your firstborn is with his grandma.
"I'm okay. I promise," you reply warmly, smiling to yourself, as you take a peek at your stomach. You don't have a bump yet, but you smile nonetheless at the thought that, if everything will go well, in following months you're gonna have a bump. "Are you busy?"
"Just got back to base. Will be there for a while," he hums. "What is it, missus?"
"You should sit."
"…everything's alright, yes?"
"Yes, but you should sit. And, turn the camera on, please?"
He doesn't even question your request; in a minute, you see his face – happy and confused in the same time, while you grin the widest you possibly can. You felt joy this big back when you were just a kid, getting your Christmas gift.
And, now you're the one who delievers the gift.
"You're in the car? Thought you're gonna be home," he speaks up, and you have to hold back a laugh.
"I had to see a doctor, and—"
"—you had to see a doctor? You told me you're okay, love. Is it our little man? Baby, I'm—"
"—I'm pregnant, John." Words fall from your mouth.
"What?"
"I'm pregnant," you laugh, as you show him the ultrasound on camera, the closest you can. "Nine weeks. I'm back from my gyn, that's the doctor I needed to see."
"You're not pulling my leg, are you, love?" he asks, and when you shake your head with excitement, he laughs. He laughs so happily, and he even stands up for a few moments before sitting again. "A week, and 'm gonna be back. Is it okay?"
"A week?" you raise your eyebrow. "You're supposed to be another two weeks on the mission, and—"
"—I'd like to spend it with my wife, and my two babies, alright? A week won't harm anyone," he whispers lovingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "We have to talk about so many things."
And the fact you had to try so many times for the first baby, is just a faded memory.
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prettyoatmeal · 6 months
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That Damned Attitude of Yours (John Price x Fem!reader)
A/N: I got the inspo from @ r0achluvr on tiktok for this. Their HC's are too good to not write about.
GENRE: Smut :3
Summary: After coming home and finding you immediately pissed with him over small, petty things, he fucks that attitude out of you.
Warnings: Dacryphilia, brat taming, unprotected sex, creampie.
Names Used: Darling, gorgeous, baby, greedy girl, good girl, beautiful fussy girl.
Word Count: 582
Masterlist here!
NSFW UNDER CUT
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"What's the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue?"
All you could do was let out a muffled moan in response. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought hours had passed by that point. You very quickly lost track of time, barely tracking it in the first place. You couldn't even remember what you were pissy about to begin with. Now you were bent over with your face firmly shoved into the bedsheets, face down ass up with John gripping the flesh of your hips and leaving bruises along your skin as he pounded into you like there was no tomorrow.
All you could hear was your moans mixing with the erotic sound of skin slapping together. Every thrust hit against that sweet spot deep inside your greedy cunt, driving you wild. John had driven orgasm after orgasm out of you and now you've been left a sobbing mess, drooling and moaning against the sheets as you left a creamy ring at the base of his cock.
"I can't hear you, gorgeous. Speak up," snickering, his grip tightened on your hair as he pulled your tear stained face from the sheets.
"Fu-uck! John-" you squealed before he let you go from his grip again, satisfied with your fucked-out response. He only earned another loud whine as his hand snaked down your front and between your legs, his rough fingers pressing against your throbbing, sensitive clit.
"Shh, I know baby. Just one more for me, okay?"
His voice was husky right against your ear. Eyes rolled back, your cries and moans were muffled by the mattress again as he fervently worked your clit. It was too much almost, John eating up your sobs and cries of sensitivity as he coaxed you through another orgasm.
"Just gotta fuck this damned attitude of yours out, don't I? Greedy girl." he growled with a particularly harsh thrust into you, jolting you forward with a yelp.
You accepted your defeat.
Angling his thrusts, it wasn't long until you felt yourself trembling with the overwhelming feeling of your final orgasm of the night, releasing all that tension and build up with a loud cry into the mattress.
"Thats it, that's it, oh you're such a good girl."
With a few more forceful thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm, he pulled your hips back towards him as he spilled his hot seed inside you with a loud groan. Your walls clenched around him with a whine as to milk him of every last drop.
Your poor, overused body would've collapsed against the bed if John's strength wasn't holding you up as if you weighed nothing, going limp in his grasp.
Catching his breath, he leaned down and pressed his lips against your neck, his huffs hitting against your damp skin as he spoke, "I'm so proud of you, baby. You always take me so well."
He pulled out with a sigh and you immediately felt his release seeping down your thighs as he finally settled you back down onto the comfort of the bed. Laying down next to you as he continued to place small kisses along your shoulders, you felt the warmth of a wash cloth wiping away at the mess between your thighs.
Turning your face out of the plush of the mattress, your half-lidded, glossy eyes stared up at him, and he immediately pulled you into a soft kiss.
"There she is. There's my beautiful, fussy girl." He whispered against your lips with a giggle.
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This made MY OWN tummy do the thing, okay. I should be studying... but tumblr needs me *batman moment*.
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Text
In Every Trio, There's Always A Duo
John Price X Reader
You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?
A/N:this is probably the angstiest fic I've written in a while lol, the idea popped up in my head after scrolling tiktok and now I'd like you all to suffer with me(also I know I promised the Gaz fic first, it is coming! I promise!) warnings:mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, gore, depressive thoughts, thoughts of suicide, mentions of death
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Price had been the one to introduce you to everyone, saying that you were the newest member of their team. Gaz welcomed you with open arms and even offered to show you around so that you wouldn’t get lost. Soap was happy to greet you, talking too quickly for you to understand even half of what he’d been saying. Ghost was a little more closed off, friendly enough to say hello and introduce himself but didn’t go out of his way to be your friend. It was something you were used to, men in the military were one of three things. Friendly, flirty, or standoffish. While Ghost wasn’t your typical “I’m better than you” military meathead, he wasn’t an open book.
It was all fine though, you had gotten close to the rest of the group and made friends with all of them quick enough. Alejandro and Rudy were much friendlier during the first meeting, Rudy and you swapped recipes and talked about your interests. Ale joked that you would end up stealing his best friend right from under his nose. Of course you would never do that, stealing someone else’s best friend was a big no no in your book.
“I would never steal him away from you! Best friends are sacred.” You smiled over at Ale, watching the way he became flustered ever so slightly.
“Well, thank you then.” He wasn’t sure what to say, most people teased them for being such close friends, this was a nice change.
“Of course, no need to thank me.” Rudy pulled you back into the conversation, explaining how to properly cook one of his mother’s best dishes.
It went on like that for months, you making friends with everyone on the task force, along with Ale and Rudy. When everyone would go home for break you didn’t leave, assuring everyone that you would leave the following day. No one needed to know that you didn’t want to go back to your family, their toxicity pushing you to where you were now. Your mother had been an alcoholic your entire life, your father no better when he actually bothered to come around. Your brother had up and left the moment he turned eighteen, leaving you behind to suffer.
No one needed to know what happened in your past, to them things were good and you had a loving family. They didn’t need to know that you had nothing left waiting for you, no family, and no friends for if you succumbed to your death during a mission. You’d wanted to tell them the truth so badly, that you truly weren’t alright, but you couldn’t.
You were out at the bar with everyone, sitting between Gaz and Soap. The Scot had interrupted you nearly five times now, voice booming as he recalled a tale about how Price had embarrassed himself during a mission. You bit your lip, sinking into your seat and not bothering to try and speak up anymore. The night continued on like that, everyone talking about different things as the drinks flowed. You’d even learnt a little bit more about Ghost, how his parents weren’t the nicest of people, how he’d done what he could to help them. It reminded you of your own situation, abusive parents that refused to take accountability.
It continued on like that for months, you would head out with everyone and continue to turn into nothing but a shadow. Seven turned to six, six turned into five, and soon enough it was only you, Ghost, and Soap going out. Price was too busy with paperwork, Ale and Rudy had their own duties to attend to, and Gaz was seeing someone. You were happy for Gaz, he was a total catch and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was. Though you missed his corny jokes at the tables when you’d go out. Soap was the main jokester, Ghost throwing in a few from time to time to throw the Scot off his game.
It was strange seeing Ghost without his mask, the first time your jaw dropped open but you refused to comment. Nothing more humiliating than bringing up someone’s scars to them when you’re in public. He ignored everyone who tried to flirt with him, shutting down their advances with a “not interested” before they could utter another word. That same night they left you behind at the pub, you’d gone to the bathroom to relieve yourself before heading back. When you walked out the table was empty and cleaned, surely they were waiting outside. However once you stepped foot outside you noticed the truck you’d all driven in was gone as well.
Your throat closed up as you realized they had completely forgotten you, the base was over ten miles away. Refusing to try and call them, you tugged your jacket closer to your body and made the journey on foot. Price was still awake when you arrived, feet nearly bleeding from the blisters you now had, and tears running down your face.
“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Price abandoned his paperwork to rush over to you.
You lied and told him you were simply too intoxicated and had forgotten you had gone to the pub with Soap and Ghost, the two men soundly asleep in their own rooms. He didn’t look as if he believed you, but nonetheless he let it slide. You would tell him the truth when you finally felt ready. Instead of pushing for more answers he helped treat your wounds, and gave you some warmer clothes to sleep in for the night.
Your sleep had been restless that night, struggling to get over how much pain you were in physically, and emotionally. Maybe they had just forgotten because you hadn’t talked the entire night? Sure, that’s what it probably was.
Price kept you on light work for the next two weeks, letting your feet heal before putting you into weapons and basic training. You were being sent out on a mission in a few days and he wanted everyone to be prepared. You stuck close by Gaz and Price for the most part, not wanting a repeat of the pub again. Training was easy, you excelled with each weapon you were given and surpassed everyone else, even Ghost.
Laswell was happy with the progress you’d made since joining, happy to know you had integrated so well with everyone else on the team. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know the entire truth, or that you were miserable deep down. She lead the briefing for your next mission, you were to get the intel required and get out, taking out any hostels if needed. You were a little nervous, the last firefight you’d gone into had nearly gotten you killed. Had Rudy not yanked you down behind the pillar you wouldn’t be standing there.
The helicopter hovered as you rappelled down onto the ground, unclipping your belt and grabbing your gun. There was no one as far as you were able to see, though you couldn’t be too careful, enemies were trained to hide in plain sight. Price and Ghost lead the group, guns raised as they begin a slow but cautious walk towards the building. No one noticed the enemy as they slid from behind their own hiding spots. 
The bullets were raining down on the group before any of the guys or yourself could take cover. Price had thrown Gaz behind one of the pillars, Ghost doing the same with Soap to help prevent his teammate from becoming swiss cheese. Alejandro wrapped his arms around Rudy and tackled him to the ground, laying completely still until the sound of the enemy reloading calmed his nerves. It wasn’t until they realized that you were laying out in the open, screams ripping the air apart as you began to slowly bleed out. Ghost’s heart stopped, how the hell did they completely forget about another person! 
“Shit!” Soap turned to run around Soap’s bulky frame, grunting as Ghost grabbed the collar of his tac vest.
“You do that an’ you’re both dead!” Ghost couldn’t risk someone else getting injured, they needed to neutralize the threat.
“We need to save her!” Soap couldn’t watch you bleed out, it would destroy him.
“Stand down!” Ghost winced as the gunfire drew closer, they needed to retreat before they lost anyone else.
The group slowly retreated, watching the way your frame became smaller and smaller with each step they took. Ghost was gnawing the inside of his jaw, angry that he’d let something like this happen under his watch. Shit, they’d have to figure out how to get you back before you ended up bleeding out on the field.
“Ghost!” Gaz was staring over at the older man, eyes wide with terror.
The enemy had grabbed you, running off while they seemed to be too preoccupied figuring out a plan to stop them in their tracks. His blood ran cold, they were surely going to kill you if they couldn’t rescue you soon enough.
“Stop them!” Ghost raised the gun in his arms, aiming down the scope to try and get a shot off.
It was with a sickening realization that he noticed they were all gone, nothing but dust kicked up in the air as they fled. He’d always kept everyone safe, or as safe as he could when they were in enemy territory. This? This was his worst nightmare come to life, someone getting injured and captured because of his actions. How the hell had he not realized you were near him? While you were quiet when needed you always made your presence known.
“We’ll get them back, but we can’t go in with our heads up in the clouds.” Price was angry, they were split up into two groups. 
You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?
“You let her get hurt, you were too busy keeping an eye on Soap that she got hurt!” Gaz stood up harshly, stomping over to where Ghost and Soap were crouched.
“Hey! Let’s not start going at each other’s throats.” Price grabbed onto his tac vest, stopping him before he could reach the other two.
“I saw it, she was walking too far from Ghost and instead of remembering that she was even there he saved Soap instead, and now she’s been taken by the fucking enemy!” Gaz was angry, angrier than he’d been in quite a while.
Ghost wanted to deny it, that he had been keeping an eye on you the entire time, but it would’ve been a dirty lie. It had been obvious over the last few months how little attention they ever spared you, especially him and Soap. The three of you would go out during your leave together and it was simply as if you didn’t exist to them. You were the third wheel during their conversations, trying your hardest to speak up only to be ignored.
Everyone had gone out for a night of drinks and dinner, mainly because Price all but demanded on getting off base for at least one night. Things had been silent for a little while and he needed to release some tension. You and Gaz were up getting drinks for everyone at the bar, the waitress already swinging by to get everyone’s order for food. Price had seen how sullen your expression was, the sparkle your eyes usually had seemed so dull now. Maybe this would help bring it back and things would go back to normal. You were his favorite(don’t tell Simon)and he would do his damndest to make sure you were okay.
“Sorry about the wait, bar was a little busier than expected.” You and Gaz set down all the drinks, being careful not to spill any liquid onto the, for now, clean table.
“No worries love, food won’t be out for a little while anyway.” Price smiled at the way your face flushed, proud that he could still have you blushing like a schoolgirl. 
The conversation seemed to flow easily with everyone, Gaz was telling a story from his teenage years that had everyone laughing. He’d embarrassed himself trying to impress a girl and refused to even look her in the eye afterwards. You opened your mouth to make a comment before Soap cut you off, the entire table echoing with laughter. Clearing your throat quietly you took a quick sip of your drink. 
The chatter died down once the food was brought out, everyone eating in near silence, save for the bustle of the restaurant around you. You wanted to talk about something, anything, but the timing never felt right. So instead of opening your mouth to talk you kept eating, your stomach turning slightly as you pushed the food around the plate. The chance to strike up a new conversation was dulled entirely once Ghost started talking about something. You didn’t bother to listen, eyes locked onto your plate as you tried to muster up the energy to keep eating.
Everyone was pulled into the conversation, offering their own bits and pieces here and there, everyone except for you. Why bother speaking to people who clearly didn’t notice when you did anyway? It would be a waste of energy and you needed to worry about what would happen on your next mission. Only you didn’t notice the way Price’s gaze lingered on you, a frown marring his nearly perfect features.
“If you don’t get them back, then I sure the fuck will.” Gaz knew the risks that rescuing you would entail and right now he was willing to take that risk.
“Kyle, if you go running in there you’ll be dead before you can get to her. I’ll go with you.” Price was willing to do whatever it took to get you back.
“Sir.” Soap felt terrible, had he kept a closer eye on you this wouldn’t have happened.
“No, we need to start thinking about how we’re going to rescue her, I’ll call Laswell.” Price turned and walked off without waiting for anyone to follow.
Ale and Rudy were horrified, they’d known the men for quite a while, having only just met you a few months prior, and watching the way this had gone down? It sickened them, but they wouldn’t voice those opinions out loud. They’d do whatever needed to be done to rescue you, to make sure that you came back home alive.
You, Ghost, and Soap were all sitting in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy the MRE’s that had been given to you earlier that day. A new shipment wouldn’t be in for a few more days so you were suffering through what had been left over. They weren’t terrible, but it was obvious why these were the ones left over from everyone else. Ghost and Soap had been keeping conversation going between them from the moment you sat down. You didn’t bother to say a word, simply ate your rather dry and tasteless food and waited for it to be gone so you could leave.
It was becoming more obvious as each day passed how little they liked having you around, from the way they would simply ignore you, to even brushing you off when you tried to join the conversation. It had stung in the beginning, but this was something that happened quite often, and you weren’t going to sit there and whine like a child. No, instead you learned to hide the disappointment and hurt deep down inside. If John ever found out how you were mentally, he’d have you discharged before you could even blink and stop him.
“‘M tellin’ ya! You nevah believe me!” Soap was laughing at something Ghost had said, you were sure of that, but the effort to even pretend to listen was too much.
“Oh will you stop with that? I don’t need to believe ya if I don’ want to.” Ghost rolled his eyes, shoving another forkful of…something into his mouth.
Neither of them had so much as glanced at you in the twenty minutes it had been since you’d sat down, another reminder that you weren’t wanted. Your throat closed up slightly, a sickening feeling clawing at your chest as you tried to keep the negative thoughts at bay. That was all wiped away when Price walked in, your back straightened immediately. It was a habit you had tried to break so often but never seemed to be able to.
“At ease soldier, just here to let you know that we’ll be headed out at 0400, so I suggest you get ready to go.” Price nodded at you before heading out.
You would all be debriefed on the plane ride over, it was something Price had begun to do so you went into the mission with the details fresh in your mind. Unless things were sensitive, then he wouldn’t run the risk of the wrong person hearing. Maybe this would finally be the mission you’d be left behind, a girl could have dreams right?
Soap was pacing the room, mumbling to himself to figure out how he could even try and get back on your good side. It was his fault that you were not only shot, but also captured. Price had gotten into contact with Laswell the moment they were back to safety. She was furious, asking how you’d managed to get captured when it was a simple recon. Gaz had exploded then, telling her how Ghost and Soap had been too caught up in each other to keep an eye on you. Price had to calm him down, nearly threatening him.
“There’s been an update, and before any of you say anything I need you to watch this and not rip out each other’s throats.” Laswell turned towards the screen, hitting play.
The screen was blurry for a few seconds before your slumped over form became clearer, it was obvious they’d done a shitty patch up job to your wounds. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, blood dripping down your temple.
“If you want her back, we want something as well.” A voice, presumably someone behind the camera, spoke.
You laughed loudly, the sound surely causing your head to throb as you struggled to sit upright in the wooden chair.
“You couldn’t have picked anyone worse to ransom. Everyone knows I'm expendable on the team, nothing but a throwaway.” Your smile tore at Price’s heart, you looked defeated, ready for the comforting embrace of death.
They growled in anger, fist colliding with your jaw as a sickening crack echoed through the speakers. You groaned, spitting blood onto the floor with a huff.
“You don’t understand, they’re never going to come back for me. You’re better off letting me just die.” Your body was begging for death now, pain surging through every nerve ending.
The man turned towards the camera, angry that you seemed so unwilling to help get whatever they were so desperate for.
“You have two days.” The screen suddenly went black, leaving the room completely silent.
Price walked over to Laswell, afraid of what answer he was going to get for the million questions running through his mind.
“How long do we have?” The video wasn’t brand new, they would never actually give the men enough time to properly plan.
“Less than twenty four hours, we found her location from that bracelet you gave her a few months ago.” Ghost’s head whipped around, why was his captain giving you gifts?
“Everyone gear up, we need to get her back before it’s too late.” Price wasn’t going to waste another second, not when you were so close to death.
The plane was fueled up and ready to go by the time everyone headed out, briefing over the plan during the flight. Gaz would go in guns blazing if it meant saving you, and he’d force Ghost and Soap to wait until they got you. It was reckless to think that way of course, and being angry with his teammates wouldn’t do him any good either. Once you were back and safe with them he’d reprimand the other two. It didn’t matter that Ghost ranked higher than him, he’d give those two an earful they’d never forget.
“Rudy, do you have eyes on her?” Price walked over to check the monitor, a small sigh of relief when he saw your outline.
You were still breathing, the motions slow and labored as you struggled with each breath. Rudy was going to stay on the plane, keeping an eye out to make sure no one tried to sneak on. It was a risky move, especially considering he’d be sitting alone, save for Nikolai. They each geared up, checking their weapons ammunition to make sure everything was loaded.
“Hold down the fort til we get back.” Price slapped a hand against Rudy’s shoulder, nodding towards Gaz and Ale to follow him.
Ghost knew better than to argue, Price was their leader and right now he was definitely on his shit list. Soap wasn’t getting off scot free either, it had been both of them that caused this entire situation. No, the focus was solely on you, Ghost could deal with the repercussions later on when you were safe.
Their footsteps were silent, Gaz lockpicking the door before heading inside behind Price and Ale, guns drawn high as they looked around for enemies. The air was thick with tension, sweat beading up underneath Price's hat as he tried to keep his breathing steady. The sound of fists colliding with skin they picked up pace. They’d managed to find you quicker than expected, but what awaited them beyond those doors?
“Tell us where they are!” It was the same voice as your abuser from the tape, they were enraged at how you simply laughed at their anger.
“I’m tellin’ ya, don’ know shit.” You groaned as his fist collided with your stomach, doubling over in the chair as much as you physically could.
They’d been interrogating you for hours, doing whatever they could to get any information from you before they’d finally send you into the afterlife. The pain was excruciating, resonating through your body like a livewire. How long would you last before you would finally succumb to the wounds that adorned your skin?
The sound of gunshots echoed inside the tiny room, deafening you as the pain in your skull amplified by a thousand. You’d surely had a concussion, if the amount of times you’d been punched had anything else to do with it. The scent of gunpowder and blood filled the air, though you were positive almost half of the blood was yours. A hand grabbing your face caused you to flinch back violently, a terrified screaming ripping from your lips.
“Please! No more!” Whoever had killed your captors wouldn’t have the best intentions for you.
“Sweetheart it’s me, we’re here to get you.” Gaz’s voice was calm, even if his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.
“Gaz.” Your eyes filled with tears, staring back at your teammate and friend.
Price stood right behind him, eyes filled with worry at your state, they needed to get you to a medic immediately. Gaz cut through the ropes binding you to the chair, helping you to stand up. It became obvious that one of your legs was broken as you stumbled in his hold, grabbing onto your thigh with a vice grip.
“Fuck, I’m gonna let Price carry you to the plane, we’ll get you hooked up to an IV to get some fluids in you, alright?” You could barely nod but it was enough of a confirmation to hand you over to Price.
He lifted you gently, cradling you in his arms as Gaz and Ale lead the way back out. Ghost and Soap were checking for any stragglers, not wanting to leave anyone else alive. They hadn’t managed to find anyone, or anything else of importance when they met back up with you. Soap could see the way Price was holding you, as if you would turn into dust in his arms. The two men wanted to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness but with Price it wouldn’t be allowed. You needed to make that decision on your own.
“Alright, we’re gonna get you back to base soon enough,” Price had let the team medic take over, checking your vitals and setting up an IV drip.
Ghost opened his mouth to apologize before Gaz’s glare stopped him in his tracks, Soap quietly sat down in a seat without so much as glancing at you. Clearly some things needed to be worked out, and right now they weren’t going to be talked about. Ghost never backed down from a challenge, not when it came to his teammates. He’d gotten enough shit from Soap to last him a lifetime, lord knows the other man never knew when to stop.
That was the whole point though, wasn’t it? He was being taught a very important lesson about how blind he’d become. Maybe not literally, but Ghost was focusing on the wrong things and it was biting him in the ass now. Soap didn’t seem any better, silently sulking in his seat as he went through a million different scenarios in his head. How long had you been suffering in silence while they simply ignored you? How terrible of a friend was he that he didn’t even notice what was going on.
“We left her at the pub one night.” Ghost nearly missed Soap’s words over the engine of the plane.
“What?” His head whipped around, when the hell had they genuinely forgotten you during a night out?
“Remember O’Malley’s? It was that one.” Soap felt the guilt eating at his soul.
Everything began to hit him like a freight train, they were neglecting you both and off the battlefield. You were an amazing teammate and an even better friend and they’d completely taken you for granted. They didn’t know anything about you aside from that you’d joined the army at eighteen and were now with the task force. The first thing Ghost would do was apologize and do whatever he could to help ease your pain.
“We’re about to land, already let them know we’ve got injuries.” The routine medic, a man named Jacob that couldn’t be any older than twenty two, began to prep you for departure.
You’d need surgery to set your leg properly, the break was most likely a shatter which would cause an intense infection. Nurses ran out to grab the gurney, rushing you inside to get you prepped and ready. Price stood at the top of the ramp, back turned towards everyone else.
“You will not go near her at all, she’s going to need space to process and heal. Do I make myself clear?” Price glanced over his shoulder at Soap and Ghost.
“Sir I-” “I said, do I make myself clear sergeant?” Price couldn’t let his emotions take over, but losing a teammate because of someone else’s negligence.
“Yes sir.” Soap straightened up in his seat, ignoring the way he felt like a scorned child.
“Good, we’ll have a debrief once she’s out of surgery.” You wouldn’t be joining, but once he knew you would be alright Price could finally relax.
The doctor and nurses worked quickly to fix the broken bones littered across your body, extracting pieces of bone that had dug into the muscle of your thigh. It took them over five hours to fix you completely, relaying the news to Price. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the worry that you wouldn’t pull through finally gone. Now it was all about making sure you healed properly.
Laswell called them to the debriefing, waiting until everyone was seated before beginning with getting every piece of information. Her expression didn’t give away any emotion of how she felt, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, getting attached to the task force. She was a little upset with them though, being unaware of your surroundings could cost your life.
“Unfortunately, she’s going to have to be discharged..permanently.” Price slammed his hands down.
“Absolutely not! You are not sending her off after everything that’s happened.” How could they just throw you away so easily?!
“I’m sorry John, this is even outside of my own jurisdiction. She got injured during a mission and might not be able to walk properly for a few years.” Fuck, you were going to be devastated hearing this.
“If she’s gone, then so am I.” Price was risking a lot for you, but you’d saved his life countless times before.
Laswell sighed, running a hand over her face before heading off to contact god knows who and see if they could keep you as part of the task force. He hadn’t fought to get this team together for nothing, and he would do whatever he could to keep everyone together. Things would work out, they had to.
—---------
You’d been struggling through physical therapy, learning to walk after having your right femur reconstructed was not easy. Price had found you the best physical therapist in all of England, determined to make sure you made a full recovery. It warmed your heart that he was so willing to help, to make sure that you were safe. He’d been by your side for months, helping you settle into your apartment and all but moving into the spare bedroom.
“Sweetheart, you’re doing amazing.” Price was standing at the opposite end of the walk way, ready to catch you in case you lost your balance.
“Fucking hurts.” You winced, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself upright.
Price hadn’t wanted to tell you, but Ghost and Soap had wanted to apologize, to sit down and have a discussion about everything. He wouldn’t push the subject if you disagreed, you deserved to be treated with respect first and foremost. It would be better to wait until you were back in the apartment where you could relax. Maybe he could give you one of his sweaters to wear, you always seemed to relax when wearing his clothes.
Your physical therapist was happy with your progress, saying that you were exceeding expectations and could possibly go down to three days a week instead of four. It made you feel a little bit better, knowing you were doing so well. You hadn’t been in the apartment for longer than two minutes before Price was wrapping one of his jackets around your shoulders. It was something he tended to do when he had bad news.
“Now you have every right to say no, but Johnny and Simon want to come by and talk.” John waited to see how you would react, knowing physical therapy had been a good day he felt optimistic.
“What’s there to even talk about? That they don’t see me as anything other than an annoyance? John, we're having a good day, I don’t want to ruin it.” Your eyes were pleading with him.
He wanted to argue that this conversation needed to happen or else things would only get worse for everyone. So, instead of listening to your pleas of “don’t you dare call them” John let them know to come over. He’d make it up to you later with a great dinner and some dessert. After all it was the very least he could do after subjecting you to their antics. Hopefully Johnny didn’t end up saying the wrong thing and pissing you off even more.
—-----
No one had dared utter a word for nearly ten minutes once Johnny and Simon arrived. The taller of the two had forgone even his surgical mask, muttering how it felt wrong to hide. Johnny was twiddling his thumbs, waiting for someone to break the ice so that he could make amends. John had made you a cup of cocoa(extra marshmallows and whipped cream as always). Simon sighed to himself before straightening up in his seat on the couch.
“No amount of I’m sorries will ever be enough for what happened. We never truly realized how shitty our actions were because we’d gotten so used to routine that adding someone else didn’t feel natural. I’m not saying that as an excuse, you didn’t deserve what happened, and I fully blame myself for you getting taken and for all of this.” Simon gestured vaguely to where you were perched in what was apparently John’s favorite chair.
You glanced at Simon over the rim of your mug, sipping the warm liquid as you soaked in his words. Simon wanted to mention the dollop of whipped cream on the end of your nose, but John beat him to it. He reached over and gently turned your head to face him, wiping off the cream with his thumb. Your smile was radiant, eyes sparkling as you stared back at your captain. 
Oh.
Oh.
This was something entirely new, but it also explained why John had been so angry that you were going to be discharged originally. Somehow they’d convinced Laswell, and whoever else, that you were too much of an essential player to lose. You were in love, and here they were intruding on an otherwise very personal moment. John suddenly seemed to remember the other two were there, awkwardly clearing his throat before sitting back in his seat.
“It’s going to take a while before I can fully trust you guys again, I’ve been through a lot in my life but having my teammates basically throw me to the wolves? It fucking hurts.” Maybe it was time to finally come clean about your life and who you truly were.
You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, telling them about your abusive home life growing up before finally making it out and finding a purpose in life. How on every break you would stay on base and make sure it looked like you’d left when they all came back home. You didn’t want their pity, you just needed them to finally understand why you were hurt by their actions.
John had carefully scooped you up and placed you into his lap when tears began to slide down your cheeks, comforting you the best way he could. Simon could understand your pain, having dealt with abuse from his own father growing up. It was a reminder that sometimes the strongest people were often hiding the darkest past. He’d done the same thing for years, refusing to open up and let anyone close.
“We really just wanted to apologize for treating you like shit, and wanting to make sure that you were doing better now.” Johnny could see that even being shot, tortured, and left for dead that you still had that shine to you.
“I know, I’m just going to need time to process everything, it hasn’t been easy.” You wanted to forgive them, but deep down the feeling that it would happen all over again ate at your mind.
“I understand lass.” Johnny nodded, he would gladly give you time to process and even see if you could forgive him.
John set you back into the chair so he could walk Johnny and Simon out, promising to keep in touch if anything changed. He wouldn’t disrespect your decision, and with the other two being on board he wasn’t going to argue. Now it was time to sit and think about what he could make for you to make up for everything.
“Hey, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve been doing, it means a lot.” You pushed yourself off the chair slowly, stepping over to John who looked seconds away from panicking.
“You don’t need to thank me love, it’s my pleasure.” He kept his hands out, ready to help in case you needed it.
“You’re doing a lot more than you might think, so yes, I do need to thank you.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, slightly winded at how far you’d had to walk.
John’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He wanted to lie and say it was only because he was afraid you’d stumble. How would you react to hearing about his true feelings? Knowing that he’d harbored a crush for frankly much too long than was appropriate to be honest. Your gaze landed on his face, lips parted as you watched the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly. John couldn’t stop himself before he was kissing you, lips pressed softly against yours. You would be a liar if you’d said you hadn’t dreamt of this before, hoping that John felt the same way towards you.
You were the first to pull away, face flushed and lungs desperate for air as you clung to the cotton shirt John wore. A small chuckle slipped through his lips, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled your bodies closer.
“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while if I’m being honest.” Your heart was racing, had you really heard him correctly?
“So have I.” You rested your forehead against his chest, relishing in the warmth he exuded.
Neither of you made to move from the kitchen, simply wrapped in each other’s embrace. You couldn’t forgive Simon and Johnny for causing the damage they did. But maybe they helped push you into the right direction. tagging: @gaylemonshark
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dmitriene · 3 months
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤthis scene, but with captain john price
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john's blue eyes, just like a storm, glare into yours while a mixture of desire and possessiveness burned in them.
he holds your chin tightly, pressing your head back into the softness of the pillows and fragrant bed linen so that you meet his gaze.
your moans and mewls fill the room, matching the rhythm of your bodies colliding and his low growls as your eyes threaten to roll back before they can, the husky and rough tone of john's voice echoing through the room like a thunder
— “come on, darlin', look into my eyes while i fuck you„
his thrusts become more and more powerful, the slap of his hips against your plush ass echoes through the air, each deep, powerful thrust plunges you deeper into a haze of pleasure, your cunt throbbing and weeping with need.
the dimly lit bedroom is filled with the intoxicating aroma of sex, mingling with the sounds of your passionate cries, the heat between your legs becomes almost unbearable, and the slickness covering john's meaty cock makes each thrust even more intense.
you're completely at his mercy, giving in to the primal desires coursing through your veins as he mercilessly claims you, his cock plundering your depths with unyielding zeal, relentlessly pounding into your spongy spot, sending pleasure shooting up your spine and pushing you ever closer to orgasm, each thrust knocks the air out of your lungs, followed by unintelligible babbling and whining
— “j-john, nnghh!! john, gonna c-cum, wanna t'cum„
john's grip on your chin tightens as he feels and hears the telltale signs of your impending release, allowing a smirk to tug at the corners of his lips, stretching his mustache as his blue eyes sparkle with satisfaction.
he deliberately adjusts the angle of his thrusts, targeting your sweet spot with each powerful thrust, and each sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, your walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to hold on to the swirling sensations.
your babbles and mewls become more and more passionate, words fly out of your mouth incoherently from a heavy tongue, the pressure in your lower abdomen reaches almost unbearable levels, the need to free yourself consumes your every thought, engulfing your body in small convulsions.
his thrusts become more measured, his cock thrusting in and out of you with a wet, sloppy rhythm, and his gaze meets yours, john's eyes are burning with intensity, through your wet, fluttering eyelashes you see the raw desire in his gaze, urging you to let go
— “cum then, come on, cum for me, sweetheart, cum on my cock„
he growls, a low rumble that echoes through your body, urging you to give in to the pleasure that threatens to consume you, keeping you pinned to the bed and impaled on his throbbing cock, john pushing you closer to the edge, his primal dominance driving you to a dizzying climax , leaving you completely limp and fucked out
— “there she is, g-good fucking girl, wait for me, yeah? good girl„
blue eyes become almost dark, possessive from the intensity of the current encounter, while your body tightens around him, your cunt contracts and spasms in the throes of orgasm, not hearing his words at all, but still nodding stupidly
your moans ring against the walls of the room and john feels the grip of your walls around his cock, milking him as you reach your peak, with one last, powerful thrust he lets go of your chin, letting your head fall back onto the pillow, your back arches, your body trembles with the force of the climax that brings with it slight spasms
his cock slides in your spasmic heat, as the wetness of your cum and slick acts as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation, he grunts, his slightly softened abdominal muscles clenching as he finds his own release, practically growling over you like an animal, clenching his dripping with sweat bearded jaw, his gaze is focused on your eyes that are either closing or rolling back
thick ropes of his cum fill you, pumping you full of his hot release, john watches your dazed reaction with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness, your eyes are barely open and look at him completely relaxed, as if you are not here, softly, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and chuckling hoarsely, still buried deep within your wet pussy, plunging his cum in
— “did so good for me, so good„
he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his features that are rugged by age are softening momentarily, thick arms and warm palms envelope your slightly shaking body, rubbing up and down your warmed, sweated skin, when you just snuggle closer to him intuitively, hiding in the curve of his neck, gradually coming to your senses, although it definitely won't be soon.
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pinkslaystation · 1 month
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Tulips or Roses?
John Price x reader
In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k
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Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.
And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.
So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.
John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)
As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?
Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.
You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.
You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.
So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.
30th February 2010
Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.
Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?
You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.
5th July 2016
Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.
You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.
19th June 2017
Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.
You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.
2nd December 2018
Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.
You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.
7th April 2019
Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.
Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.
You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.
21st August 2019
She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.
Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.
You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.
You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.
30th November 2020
In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.
You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.
You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.
"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.
Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.
So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.
"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.
All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.
"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."
You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.
But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.
The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.
But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?
"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.
"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.
"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.
"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.
"Those people, they're your team?" You question.
His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."
You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.
"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.
"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.
Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.
You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...
Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.
Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.
Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?
The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.
The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.
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A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.
He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.
Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...
He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.
"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)
"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.
The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.
He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"
"When did I say they were my favourite?"
John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."
"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.
"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"
"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"
Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.
"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.
"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"
"Are we still talking about flowers-"
"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."
"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"
"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."
You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.
"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"
John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.
"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"
You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.
"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"
His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.
"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.
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The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.
As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.
Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-
Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.
He begins reading the last entry.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....
"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.
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It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.
After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.
The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.
Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.
John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.
"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.
"John, listen about last night-"
"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.
You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.
"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."
"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.
"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."
Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.
"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.
My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."
"John..."
He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.
You look at the first entry.
19th February 2021
I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.
You turn the page.
20th July 2021
Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.
The next one.
17th September 2021
I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.
I've always preferred tulips anyway.
And the next.
5th July 2022
Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.
17th September 2022
She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?
28rd December 2023
We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.
You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.
16th February 2024
Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.
Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."
And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.
That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum
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sgtgarricks · 12 days
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reader x john price ♡
you've been having a rough week.
anything that could have gone wrong has happened and you were left feeling exhausted and drained. barely having the energy to even get upset. all you wanted to do was sink into your boyfriend's arms and cry your heart out.
but john had been gone for a few weeks now, and it felt like hell. 'course it's not like you blame him for being away, but you really wished he was here instead of wherever he was.
as you open the door to your apartment after your shift, you were already dreading the amount of kitchenware left in the sink. the pile had been steadily growing little by little and you could only heave a sigh.
the sight that greets you instead, is john price gently wiping the wet mug he had recently scrubbed with a dry towel. your breath was stuck in your throat, you could barely remember turning around and locking the door before running straight into his arms.
"hi, sweetheart." his big arms immediately engulf you in warmth, hearing his soft voice cooing internally melting you into a puddle. before he could say anything more, you break into tears.
not the sniffles kind, the wet, sobbing kind. you grip his shirt tightly as you sob into his shirt, all the sadness and exhaustion rolling from you in waves.
john said nothing, opting to hug you tighter and kissing the top of your head.
"i'm here love, i'm here." his words make you cry even more, having missed him tremendously. you don't even know how you eventually ended up on the bed, head tucked towards his chest as he continues to caress you soothingly.
you had one of the best sleeps of your life that night. and an even better morning when you wake up to the smell of breakfast and his kisses peppering your face.
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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
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The Whole Bakery
Prompt: How will the boys respond to an S/O who slaps their ass out of nowhere? [Requested by @airghostlyfox]
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
Warnings: expletives; lightly suggestive content
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There he was. Making his morning cup of coffee. Comfortable sleep clothes and sluggish movement. Your handsome partner. 
He had finally freed himself from the blanket web and your comfortable arms, with the intent to go through most of his “honey-do” list that weekend.
And he was so unaware.
That your arm was winding up for a powerful smack to his ass.
John Price
The sound was not as impressive due to his sweatpants, but the way he jerked and slowly put down the things in his hands was reward enough. He did not appreciate it. And he did not turn around.
“Luv,” he said in an even tone. “What the hell was that?”
You rubbed the offended cheek with the same hand, deciding against pinching, as he would win any fight you started. 
“My darling John. Your ass is just so wonderful, I can’t help myself.” 
Both hands gently squeezed his ass. And you pressed an apologetic kiss between his bare shoulder blades.
“You’ve got the whole bakery right here, bubba.” Gentle pats. Still no movement of his neck. “All these buns.”
Finally, he turned around.
He was trying very hard not to smile. Trying not to encourage you. But goddamn, did you look pleased with yourself. Strong arms wrapped around your middle, pressing you to his chest.
“You are-” Kiss. “Such a flirt.” Kiss. “And absolutely shameless.”
You kissed him back and lazily threw your arms over his shoulders.
Behind you, his arm raised itself and smacked your ass as hard as he possibly could. You folded into him with a yelp.
“GOD FUCKIN–!”
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Simon Riley
The moment your hand left his cheek, he had turned on you and grabbed you under the armpits.
“Uh oh” was all you had the chance to say before he dragged you off to the nearest wall. He was smiling, but it was the smile that meant you were still in trouble. You chuckled nervously as he settled you against the wall, caging you in and leaning in close.
“You are a cheeky one,” he purred.
“Yessir.”
“Any particular reason we’re playful this morning?”
You wriggled your arms out of his grip, and settled your hands over his ass again. He let you, one of his fingers tapping your nose.
“Well, if you must know, Simon,” you said, adopting a matter-of-fact tone. “It is because your ass is just so delicious looking.”
He snorted at your blunt words and hid his eyes with his hand.
“Bloody hell.”
“I mean, just look at it, lover.” You firmly gripped his ass, squeezing ever so slightly. “All this cake.”
He sighed, but he was still laughing. You’re adorable. He loves you.
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Kyle Garrick
You didn’t smack too, too hard. A peace offering for walking around in his boxers and nothing else. Your favorite outfit on him.
But he still jumped and gave you a dirty look.
“It is 8 in the morning, you shit.”
You turned him back around and massaged his ass, humming a cheerful tune. “I’m just gonna knead this yummy dough, don’t mind me.”
“You a cat? Making biscuits?”
You giggled and kissed the back of his neck.
“Oh, have you got some biscuits on you, loverboy.”
He couldn’t help but laugh into his cup, turning himself around and pulling you into his embrace. Soft, coffee-flavored kisses. Then his arms snaking lower, and his own hands settling on your ass.
“I think that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”
“Sweeter than ‘I love you’?”
He squeezed your ass and pulled you impossibly closer to him.
“Mm,” he sighed into your mouth. “Tied for first.”
You pulled back and narrowed your eyes.
“What? Oh, right. I love you, too, baby.”
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Johnny MacTavish
Of all the boys, he has no right to complain. A chronic ass-slapper. Repeat offender groper. Can’t sleep without one hand one you, be it your arm, your stomach, or your leg.
He was singing some song to himself, dancing a little. Background noise that kept him from hearing you until it was too late.
“Steaming bloody-”
You hit him too hard. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. You ducked out of his grasp and started pleading for forgiveness.
“Baby, I’m sorry, that was harder than I meant. I’m sorry. I’m sor- shit.”
A mad scramble around the kitchen island. Never had you run away from your bare-chested Scotsman so quickly.
“Get your arse back here!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Fuck you mean-” He vaulted over the island and you screamed. Like a bird of prey, he grabbed you and dragged you to the couch, falling on top of you with all his weight.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you wheezed.
He smothered your face and neck in kisses, and accepted your apology. He would get you back later. With less force but greater number of ass slaps. You were sure of it.
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Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)
Posted: 2023 Dec 12
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ghostlywhiskey · 4 months
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domestic price when he’s home from deployment trying to give you time to relax now. you argue it’s fine and that he should be the one resting considering the nature of his job. except, he argues back that you taking care of the two kids while pregnant with the third alone while he was away is unfair.
so, price will make sure you’re getting rest and pampered when he’s home. the type of guy who calls the nail salon you regularly visit to book you an appointment that he pays for in advanced. when you mention wanting to get a haircut, he’ll also call in advance for that - tells them to just charge his card with whatever you want to get done while you are there. and when you go to pay both times and they tell you it’s already taken care of, immediately you call price when leaving and thank him and tell him he didn’t need to do that. pulls the ‘yeah, but i wanted to’ line on you.
and when you come back after your day of getting pampered, the smell from the kitchen gravitating your body towards it as you walk into the house. and, there stands price in an apron preparing dinner. he glances up at you and gives you a warm smile, his eyes wrinkling at the corners.
“how was your day?” price asks, eyes following you as you make your way towards him. your hand gently grabbing his bicep and you reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek but he moves his head to make it a kiss on the lips. when you pull back, its like he reads your mind that you’re about to ask where the boys are.
“your mum came to pick up the kids for the night,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “so it is jus’ us tonight. go relax on the couch and i’ll let you know when dinner is set.”
nodding, you smile to yourself as you head to the living room. somehow you really did get lucky in this life.
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alwaysshallow · 6 months
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it's halloween and as you're a single mom, you're dressing up with your seven year old, just to make him happier. his father left the two of you a couple of months ago, and kid is having a rough time with it. halloween seems like the only ocassion to make both of you happy.
every house is like a new adventure for him. he's getting double candy, as he's cutely dressed as scooby-doo, and everyone is absolutely adored with your kid.
including john price, but it would be a bit of a understatement; he's obsessed with your kid and you, smiling at both of you widely. you're giving him a surprised look when he gives your seven year old a whole bowl of candies.
he asks him about his favorite toys, games, if he likes his school, and how he has such a good mom for being here with him. your heart melts when your kid answers him, eager; usually, he doesn't like strangers.
"i'm not gonna forgive you for too much sugar in his system" you obviously joke, when your kid sits at his stairs right in front of his house.
"'m hopin' coffee would do it for you." he says, leaning against the door frame. he seems like he doesn't really care about the cold wind that gets to his home right now.
it's your silence that makes him wonder if he said the right thing. he smiles in apologetic manner quickly. "i am being too forward, sorry. i shouldn't even..."
"it could." you interrupt him; you really crave a sense of normality right now, and if it could happen with such a nice man, why wait?
"i'll have it for you, then. and a tea for little one."
it's the part where he includes your kid that gets you.
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gloomwitchwrites · 22 days
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Hiii, how about our fav 141 men with to a very clumsy reader? Like e.g. I'm someone who keeps accidentally bumping into people while walking because apparently I can't walk a straight line???
Is that something you'd write?:3
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Is this something I'd write? Absolutely. This prompt is so cute and the perfect opportunity to write a few drabbles. Thank you for sending it in, and thank you for your patience as I work through all the requests.
Find the Imagines & What If Masterlist HERE
Content & Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, canon-typical cursing
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price:
“I’m doing it.”
“No. You’re not.”
You raise the hammer.
“Put it down,” says Price pointing at the ground.
“I’m fully capable.”
“Yes,” admits Price, slowly. “But you always hurt yourself.”
Your husband isn’t wrong. Everything you’ve ever hung on the walls has resulted in a throbbing thumb.
“It’ll be different this time.”
Price shrugs. “Go on then.”
With tongue between teeth, you come down on the nail, striking thumb instead of metal. You turn to him, tears in your eyes.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Come here.”
“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’”
“Wouldn’t dare,” laughs Price, cradling your hand.
Simon "Ghost" Riley:
“We need to—”
“The milk—”
“It’s—”
Simon tugs you to the right and you growl in frustration. “Stop pulling on me.”
Simon glances down and you know he’s smirking behind the black balaclava. “You don’t know how to walk in a straight fucking line.”
“What?”
He nods toward an elderly couple. “Nearly ran them down, love.”
You roll your eyes. You’re yanked backward against Simon’s chest. He places both hands on either side of you against the cart.
“Gotta protect the elderly.”
“Fuck off,” you mutter.
Simon presses his lips to the top of your head, grinning.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:
“Let me see, love.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
Kyle grabs your wrist and inspects the nasty slice. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner and the knife slipped.
“At least the knife wasn’t dull,” murmurs Kyle as he rinses the wound under cold water. He gently washes it with soap, drying it afterward.
“You need to be more careful,” he says softly.
“You say that every time.”
“I mean it every time. I’m not interested in taking you to the hospital.”
Kyle rotates your wrist, covering the wound with a bandage, and places a soft kiss against the wrappings.
“All done.”
John "Soap" MacTavish:
“Can we—”
“Nope,” says John, shaking his head. “Focus.” He places his hands on your shoulders, urging you forward.
“You don’t need to do that.”
John twists you to the side as you almost collide with an antique tea set.
“Oh, aye. I do,” he mutters, gaze darting everywhere, looking for the next victim.
You’re the hazard. Last time the two of you went antique shopping, John had to hand over most of his cash because you kept knocking things over.
“They pack these places on purpose.”
He kisses the top of your head. “No. It’s just you, love.”
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victoria-grimesss · 8 months
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Price Headcanons ~SFW & NSFW~
masterlist ->Paring: Captain John Price x F!Reader ->Warning: fluff, romance, smut down below >:) ->A/N: MDNI! I've had some of these floating around my head and had to write them down.
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SFW:
This man needs a vacation, he needs to sit on the beach and drink a little something with an umbrella vacation.
I imagine even if he went on vacation, he would be the "feel free to text me if anything comes up I'm just a flight away" kinda guy. Please someone make him relax.
He's a romantic guy for sure, will kiss you on the hand and bring you flowers without asking.
When you go out to eat he will open the car door, the restaurant door, and pull out the chair for you because the woman he loves will NOT be touching a door. He gives you a wink once he tucks your chair in.
When he's home, especially right after he gets back he loves nothing more than to sit side by side and read your books together, make him a good cup of tea and he's sending heart eyes your way.
His favorite way to sleep is with you right on top of him. Out on the job he sleeps with his gear on, so he's become accustomed to having a weight on his chest when he sleeps, he feels uneasy without it. But when you lay onto of him like that he's out like a light.
He gets nightmares frequently, if you're a light sleeper he apologizes for waking you up but you never complain and for that he cannot repay you. If you're a heavy sleeper and you don't wake up he'll calm his beating heart and find comfort in your scent and soft breaths. Sometimes he wants to talk about it sometimes he doesn't, it depends on the severity and if he wants to plague you with it. At times he just wants to lay with you in his arms, he's safe at home with you, his boys are safe at their homes, everything is okay.
He's built a steady routine over the years, part of that routine is waking up ten minutes before he's supposed to so he can admire you when you sleep and hold you close to his bare chest, he loves these mornings.
He trusts you with his life, and with that he'll let you trim up his beard, a barber botched it once and Gaz laughed at him, so he said you're the only other person allowed to do it now.
He definitely falls asleep when watching TV and when you try to change it he'll wake up and say he's watching it.
One time you washed his hat without telling him and he panicked like when you lose your wallet. You had to pre-soak his hat twice to get it semi-normal.
I imagine him as a good cook but a shit baker. He gets frustrated when he tried to follow a cake recipe for your birthday and can't find the recipe under the person's life story. He went to the store and bought one then wrote your name on it.
He loves it when he can show off how strong he is, sometimes you'll pretend you can't open a jar just so he can crack his knuckles and "show you how its done".
He's over the moon if you ask him to show you how to fish, even more elated if you offer it as a date idea.
He loves to sit at the counter and listen to you talk about your day. He's a sucker about your voice and could listen to you talk about literally anything.
He calls you on his way back to base and talks to you on the drive home, makes the drive go faster.
He starts ring shopping 2 months after you two started dating, he knew you were the one.
He almost threw up when he proposed, he was so fucking nervous but the night went perfectly.
Definitely carried you through the door of your shared place when you got married, he's old fashioned like that.
His dad jokes are out of this world awful, but you laugh at them even if it hurts, because you love him.
Loves to have the team over to watch sport matches, when you were house shopping he always referenced about having them over when the two of you would view the living room.
When the two of you are out he puts a hand on the small of you back to guide you through crowds.
NSFW:
His stamina is impressive, he's an older guy but he can go for rounds and those rounds are heavy and sweaty.
Alot of things you do turn him on, kiss him on the spot where his neck meets his head, touch his knee and move you hand slowly up, tell him how much you missed him, tell him he looks good in that shirt, wear that shirt, really anything you do turns the man on.
John Price loves to love you through and through this man is a giver.
He will kiss you from ankle all the way up, muttering about how good you looked today and how much he was thinking about getting you out of these clothes.
Not possessive but more protective. Your relationship is built on mutual respect for one another, although there is a trend between the times when you get a little more attention from other guys and when he absolutely fucks your brains out. He denies it the next morning.
He uses his voice to his advantage. He purrs in your ear hours before he undresses you, light light touches and honeyed words butter you up to the point you're begging for him to take your clothes off. "You need me this bad love? Desperate girl." He wears a devilish smile.
Certified pussy eating master and I stand by that. That man can go forever between your thighs, his eyes roll to the back of his head when he first licks you, you'll have to pry him away beard soaked with evidence of his skills.
Good with his hands too, he angles then just the right way to find your G-spot, all while saying the dirtiest things just so he can feel you clench around his fingers. "You like that, fuck look at you dripping down my hand."
He loves when you grip his arms when he drives himself into you, you leave nail marks and he gets off on it. That you're feeling so good from what he's doing to you that you have to hold on that tight.
Favorite positions would be missionary, cowgirl, or anything where he can look you in the eyes so he can see your reaction when he slides it in so agonizingly slow.
Loves it when you ride him, front facing so he can see you cum. He makes you wear his hat for sure. And when it dips too low in front of your eyes he'll stop all movement just to fix it. "There's my pretty girl." He grinds into you to start again.
You guys fucked in his car once and he loved it, couldn't do it again though. His back hurt too much the next day.
Guilty pleasure is hotel sex. The both of you get a nice big room at a fancy hotel, have sex in clean white sheets making a mess of the newly made bed, he fucks you in the bed, the shower, the desk, over the dresser, and against the wall, afterwards you two order all you can eat room service.
He loves getting blowjobs when he smokes, something about the combination of the two make his head dizzy in a wonderful way.
Heavy on safe-words and making sure you feel the best you can when you two have sex, always checking in on you but in the most seductive ways as to not lose the mood.
Price loves to praise you, before during and after he's telling you how good you're doing and how beautiful you look taking him so well.
Most of the time he asks you where he should cum, he just likes hearing you say it, it gets him off harder.
Aftercare!! John is big on it, he'll take you to the bathroom and you'll have a bath together or shower, he'll give you extra time when he leaves so he can change the bedding and put on a sweet movie.
If your muscles ache he'll take a body oil or lotion and gets those knots out with those expert hands, he prefers it when you're naked for these massage sessions, easier to get all your sore spots he says.
More than half the time this result in another session and neither of you are complaining.
---
peepaw for the win!!!
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dmitriene · 21 days
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cw: dark content, dubious consent, spanking, humiliation, thigh riding.
you were a proper brat, the one that town sheriff jonathan price couldn't stand at all, every outing you made to the town was leaving him with bulging veins all over his neck and forehead, jaw grinding harshly as his calloused hand stroked his mutton chops.
price just hadn't a single nerve for your antics, wandering around the town in the tight little shirts of your daddy that you sewed to fit your body, the slinkiest denim shorts that was possibly existing were hugging your rounded ass cheeks, soft flesh barely peaking beneath when you were bending against the shop's wooden counters.
you were john's menace, stealing for your own fun some fresh juicy fruits from some poor lad's shop, never paying and always giggling, charming his brains out of his head so he wouldn't notice your arm full of sweetest peaches.
wandering around john's office, twirling your ass all around and chatting with muppets that were sitting in jail cells, the same place you should be sitting at least couple of hours as well, but price doesn't have a strength to run after you, and his boys were failing on catching you as well.
you outrunned every one of them, from charmingly annoying scott, to the politely sunny man that was called kyle, and even the behemoth of a man that everyone was naming as a ghost, mostly because he gave up the first time you shoved your tongue at him and sprinted away by jumping through the gates.
your biggest fault was stealing something from sheriff himself, wandering to price's office while he was out for some deal as you wiggled yourself through the open window, just «a silly joke» on him for not letting you having your fun and reporting each movement you did to your daddy, but oh, you shouldn't have touched his things at all.
shouldn't turn his neatly organized office upside down, climb through his shelves and touch folders with important documents, as well as shouldn't open the jail cells and let out those who were sitting there for malicious mischief and other, similar to this one, things.
it really wasn't worth it to end up bent over a hard, muscular lap, with your tight little shorts dangling at your feet and cotton panties crumpled just enough to expose your rounded, soft rear to the silent room, where the only sound that resonates off the brick walls is loud, raw spanking slaps.
it's the first time in a long when john was that much furious, making his face go deep shade of red out of anger, fists tight and whitening at his sides when he opened the door to his office, catching you off guard in the middle of your antics, azure eyes darkening almost immediately as his fingers twitch and grasp at your hair, rippling out a loud, strained squeak off of your pretty lips.
you clearly didn't expect to see him, that john could tell, as well as end up half naked before his intense, burning gaze, a complete mess with your hands literally tied, now you couldn't run away from him, not when he finally caught you up.
maybe he enjoyed it too much, the thrill of having something that was constantly running from him made warmth bubble in his bulky body, like a game of cat and mouse, but finally you got exactly what you deserved, and john intended to feed it to you till the last spoon.
— “cocky, impudent little brat„ he all but barks and growls, making you shook not only from the stinging pain on your bulging ass cheeks, but also because of slightest fear that grip your body in its clutches, holding you unmovingly on john's thick thighs as you let out whimpers and tiny, ringing mewls.
tiny rope bites at your sore wrists, calloused palm slaps against your completely raw, reddened flesh with licking pain, your limbs feel absolutely putty, useless in your current state, with fat salty tears rolling against your fluttering eyelashes and down the flushed cheeks.
he smells of musk and gunpowder, sweat, scent with which he came back at least hour ago, and you knew that you're in for trouble, because he reeled of irritation.
all this situation was supposed to scare you away, make you beg for forgiveness, but you welcome each and every harsh slap with pooling wetness in the gusset of your cotton panties, the gentle lips of your pretty pussy visible just enough for john's gaze to catch on, and he straight on slows down.
the only thing that you register in your buzzing brain is harsh puffs that comes off his mouth, before dry ungloved fingers slide up against your folds, gathering the sticky, pooling mess, and you jolt, sobbing out a high gasp, which makes price huff out bewilderedly — “fuckin' hell, you're getting off to this, sweetheart? enjoying the humiliation?„
that makes your blood run incredibly hot, cheeks and ears burning up harder than the sensitive flesh of your perched ass, and you wiggle intuitively, pussy throbbing on itself and making you whimper, sincerely plaintively, cotton fabric sticking to your slicky folds, as you gather the courage to wobble out the small — “n-no„
but your body doesn't agree, you're aching, every limb feels as if it's itching and pulsing, you don't see how price bores his cerulean eyes into the slick gathered on his thick fingers, his own body rolling with waves of heat, clothes feels suddenly too tight for his own good, before he yanks your tied hands.
sudden movement makes you choke a squeak, rope still biting into the thin flesh of your wrists as he moves you to straddle his thighs, sitting securely, making your denim shorts slip off your legs completely and to the floor, as air in his messy office bites your sensitive ass cheeks, before there's another delivered, stinging slap.
you cry out, body jolting and pressing against his as you fall face first into his shoulder, inadvertently inhaling his cologne and hints of leather, his rough fingers knead your ass, calloused thumb rubbing strangely soothing circles that make your plush thighs squeeze together around his, desperate need for some kind of relief wells up hot and bothering, in your tummy and pulsing, currently neglected cunny.
price drinks up your every reaction like the most delicious whiskey, the labored breaths and the feel of how your pussy throbs, he can feel it all, together with hardening sensation in his boxers that makes his pants feel too tight beneath you, but it all will end up more than soon, cause his free hand moves to grip the back of your neck.
he's tugging, making your spine arch as your mound rubs against his leg just the right way, and he growls, head tilting to whisper out in your ear, his facial hair rubbing your skin harshly — “let's see how brave you are for real, darling? get off what's bothering you, and maybe.. maybe i'll consider to not telling your daddy what happened here today„
that makes you mewl so embarrassedly, nod your head silently into his muscular shoulder as your rounded hips roll cautiously, sudden pleasure sparks all through your shaking body as you still hide your face from him, but it doesn't matter, cause you're already signed the deal with sheriff jonathan price.
and no one in this town, if it's not the future dead man walking, will risk betraying the deal with him.
so you roll your hips rhythmically, letting your sopping pussy glide smoothly against his clothed thigh as your ass perches up, with his thick hand still caressing and kneading shamelessly, your strained, panting voice huffs out ashamed and delirious — “y-yes, sir„ which pulls a wide grin to his lips and a dark glint to his vivid eyes.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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