#john price

[dante-mightdie]

Reader auction offs her virginity because she has to pay off her student loans. Lonely Price see her on the web and decides that he doesn’t just want her virginity but all of her so he asks her to be his sugar baby. He doesn’t need her for sex but needs her for the company

yummy yummy

c/w: sugardaddy!price, talks of virginity, mutual masturbation, nude photos, nsfw content

he thinks you’re just the sweetest and he just can’t let one of these creepy old men take your virginity <3 save it for someone special. doesn’t necessarily have to be him, he’d be happy if you just sat in his lap and played with his hair

just wants a pretty thing to get him a scotch and light his cigar for him. sat comfortably in his lap at his monthly poker game with some of his old comrades. a cocky smirk on his face when they all ogle at you for the whole night <3

he’s so mean about taking your virginity, even when you beg and basically throw yourself at him he still says no. says you’re too lovely to be ruined by a bitter, old man like him :(

instead he gets you to lay in the middle of his plush bed, watching you plunge your fingers in and out of your cunt whilst he sits in the corner of the room with a cigar in one hand and his cock in the other

instructs you on how to play with yourself with the deep, baritone voice of his. tells you what a good girl you are, how sweet and kind you are to spend your time with a bad man like him :(

gives you his bank card with no shame. the type of sugar daddy who has a scheduled delivery of bouquets every week with a lovely note. always enjoys the way you thank him, sending over a picture and a note to open it when he’s alone

the camera aimed between your legs, your fingers holding one of the flowers and a clear view of your damp panties in the background :( enough to make him excuse himself to the bathroom to rub one out

[temeyes]

oh no,,, his hat,,,,,

[s-oaps]

EASY, BREEZY, BEAUTIFUL - TASK FORCE 141

+ bonus

[syoddeye]

flashing john from the window while you make the bed. he’s outside in the middle of choring, and you assume he’s just gonna laugh and continue working. but you look up a moment later and see that the yard's empty. whatever he was doing, it's abandoned. you nearly jump out of your skin when the back door slams open. 

[cod-dump]

Laswell: Uh- Where did you get that?

Price with a freshly traumatized Ghost: I found him

Laswell: Yea, that answer is a little too vague for my liking

Price as Ghost sips on a smoothie: That sounds like a you problem. Smoothie?

Laswell: … sure

[chamomiletealeaf]

Their Favorite Lipstick Shade on You

141 x fem reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, sexual content, MDNI

Simon - fucking loves lipgloss on you. He loves how shiny and delicate and soft it makes your lips and he can’t get enough of it. He loves the flavored kind so when he kisses you he can get a taste too and it drives him fucking wild.

Bonus if your lipgloss has a shimmer or glitter to it. He’s staring at your lips all day long. They’re just so dainty and pretty, and Simon is a sucker for dainty and pretty things when it comes to you.

And if you match your lipgloss to your panties? Expect to have Simon pressing your knees to your ears and fucking you until your lipgloss is completely wiped off.

Johnny - goes crazy when you wear anything that transfers to his skin easily. He loves when you mark him up. He prefers you wear bright colors for this specific reason because it shows up more on his skin. If you wear black lipstick? He's done for. You wear a bright pink? He's begging you to suck him off so he has your lipstick stains on his cock.

If you're out shopping for lipsticks he's coming with you so you can test how the color not only looks on your skin, but all over his neck and cheeks too. I feel like he'd get a cheeky little tattoo of your kiss mark somewhere on him so your lips are always on him.

Gaz - absolutely loves when you do lip combos where the outline of your lips are darker than the middle. He would adore the way you ombre your lips so perfectly making them look so beautiful and pouty. And if you put a bit of lip oil on over it to make it glossy? You have to fight him off so he doesn't kiss it off of you. It took you a while to blend the combo in correctly!

He loves lip oils on you. Especially just a basic clear one that accentuates your natural lip tone and makes your lips all glassy. They just look so soft and kissable and he just can't stop staring at them.

You could be talking to him and he never looks at your eyes. He's hyperfocused on your glassy, pretty lips and how he wishes they were on him, just nodding at whatever you're saying so you keep looking at him.

Price - Price is a simple man. He likes just plain, classic, red lipstick on you. His personal favorite is dark red matte because of how sexy and seductive the color is on you. If you show up on a date with him wearing dark red lipstick, he's holding your cheek and running a thumb over your lips while you talk to him, admiring how sexy they look.

He loves to watch you reapply your lipstick too. It's so mesmerizing seeing his pretty little doll dress up for him. He'd ask to help you reapply it which you comply and hand him the tube of lipstick as he delicately holds your head and swipes the velvety color over your lips. You watch him intently as he takes his time admiring your lips. When he's finished, and you're surprised at how well of a job he did, it doesn't last long before he's making out with you, smearing the freshly done coat of lipstick on his and your face.

Oh, and don't think that's where it stops either, because he's definitely pushing you onto your knees so you suck him off, leaving kiss marks all on his lower tummy and thighs as well as your lipstick smeared on his cock.

He would have a polaroid photo of you two with your signature red kiss mark on the bottom on the white tab of the photo that he keeps with him at all times. He laminated it so the mark never wipes off, keeping your kiss with him always.

[preqwells]

cw: 18+ MDNI, afab, smoking

price relished in the feeling of the mattress underneath him, his cock half-hard with you laying idly at his side with a fucked-out expression. he had been back for the holidays, which was rare since he very seldom got the privilege of spending it with you. snow continued to fall outside of your shared cabin, the warmth of your afterglow enveloping you. you could still feel his cum coat your inner thighs, your legs closed in an attempt to soothe the ache he left behind. the smell of sex and your perfume permeated the air, his eyes focused solely on you— god, he’d take you again if you’d let him.

he lazily reached for the pack of cigars perched upon his nightstand, fetching the lighter as well. he brought the cigar up to his mouth, the sparks from the lighter flicking off until the flame grew steady, lighting the cigar with ease. he let a few puffs escape his lips, finding sanction in the way the smoke burned his lungs— hell, he barely even felt it anymore. he turned over to you, his eyes half-lidded with admiration. the way your hair fanned out across the pillow, your softness, your warmth— you were his. his to take care of, to dote on, to satisfy.

he’d ruin you for any man that dared to come after him, that much he knew. he extended his hand out to gently cup your cheek, guiding your face to his.

“do you trust me, pet?” he cooed, using the term of endearment that had become your bond. you slowly nodded, visibly curious. he responded by easing his thumb into your mouth, gingerly guiding it open. as your mouth remained open, he removed his thumb before he took a drag from his cigar, his lips hurriedly meeting yours. the slickness of his tongue found yours, coaxing a soft moan out of you as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth. he grinned at the way you took it so well, his lips and tobacco mixing to make a heady concoction. he pulled you onto his chest, your breasts flush against him. he could feel his cock starting to harden at the thought of taking you again, sprawled across the bed as he shared a part of himself with you.

“just open a lil’ wider this time— aye, there we go. takin’ it like a champ, are we?” he praised, a smirk landing on his features as he pressed the head of his cock against your puffy folds, your eyes rolling back at how well he stretched you as the smoke infiltrated your lungs, feeling him with every breath.

[mrsparrasblog]

Hear me out.

I had a thought again and basically it should be forbidden for me to think since I didn't finish one of my 7 fics.

But imagine John Price and Reader in military school; you were two years younger than him and still better, at least in the things that weren't hand-to-hand combat. After a while of hate between you, you somehow turned into lovers, only for him to break up with you one day before the SAS test. He was above you by one point and he was so proud of it. (Well, he was a man in his 19s, he was dumb, okay?) And well, you are a literal Sunshine but you are also petty.

19 years later, TF141 is invited again to the military games (a fictional event where different teams battle each other in disciplines; they get some great money for equipment though when they win) and TF141 with Kate always wins. Kate brags about it to her hated CIA colleague, Hades. This time he sends his team, that she knows nothing about, to the games. Kate tells John they need to walk over them, only that he is greeted with his ex-girlfriend and her all-girls squad, TF 4-1-4. He was fuming, even more when he saw your team.

Lieutenant Eun "Medusa" Tae, who is basically taller by 1 cm than Ghost.

Sergeant Maeve "Venus" Campbell, the youngest person to ever join the SAS, younger than Soap by one year :)

Sergeant Hannah "Artemis" Clark, who broke Kyle's SAS record without breaking a sweat.

Well, you are petty and you made your goal for your team to win this game, at least by 1 point.

Would you like someone to read that? Should I make it like a 6-chapter fic because I'm hyped about the idea?

[ghouljams]

SCP-141

Class: Safe Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Each anomalous individual is to be kept in a single cell separate not within 200 ft of another. Each cell is to be outfitted with simple living arrangements and entertainment is to be provided upon request. Each cell is to be made of reinforced concrete with a single titanium locked door leading out of the cell. SCP-141 a-d should be mixed in among other safe or neutralized SCPs in order to prevent attempts to use said SCPs as weapons.

It is recommended that testing requests be made to SCP-141-a, which appears to be the leader of the group. If approval is granted SCP-141 a-d will be removed from their cells and transported to a separate testing chamber of no more than 12x12m. This meeting chamber is to have no outside tools or instruments brought into it or left within at such times as SCP-141 is present within it. Absolutely no weapons are to be within range of SCP-141 a-d, and security personnel is recommended to be in plain clothes.

The individuals which make up SCP-141 are not to be exposed to each other for more than five minutes before the individual needed for testing is removed to a separate chamber and the rest are returned to their rooms.

SCP-141 a-d are generally considered reasonable and will not become violent unless provoked. However, if threatened special containment procedures must be followed to prevent any major destruction from taking place. Specifically, the removal of all weaponry, electronics, and chemicals from the area. All anomalous individuals must be separated and kept under strict containment in blast proof cells until anomalous effects wear off. *

SCP-141 a-d have been outfitted with tracker bands and allowed to resume normal operations under close supervision. **

SCP-141 a-d have been chipped, and are currently being tracked via satellite. They will check in once every ⬛⬛⬛ months with approximate location and will report any other anomalous entities they come into contact with. Do not attempt to apprehend.

Description: SCP-141 is an anomalous gathering of soldiers which, when brought within 50m of each other seems to activate the individuals own anomalous properties. Anomalies disappear within ⬛⬛ hours of separation. Individuals generally appear unaware of their anomalies and report no noticeable changes between entering SCP-141 and leaving it. SCP-141 is made up of 4 5 separate anomalous entities and functions as a military task force. SCP-141 will take on assigned tasks and missions as a military task force if allowed to.

Currently SCP-141 is in ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ attempting to take down the ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ cartel. To date SCP-141 has aided in the capture of ⬛⬛ anomalous individuals/objects.

SCP-141-a: Captain John Price. SCP-141-a is an anomalous individual from Liverpool displaying an the ability to ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛. In testing SCP-141-a was able to ⬛⬛⬛ with both precision and speed. SCP-141-a has demonstrated an secondary anomalous ability to manipulate individuals into giving information and aid. Conversation between SCP-141-a and all personnel is to be closely monitored and aborted should personnel interacting with SCP-141-a be suspected of shifting loyalties or brainwashing.

SCP-141-a seems both aware of the anomalous properties of the group and willing to use them for what he calls "the greater good".

Note: SCP-141-a has demonstrated an increased tension around testing recently, as well as a sharp increase in willingness to subject the other members of SCP-141 to testing. Note 2: SCP-141-a is not to be trusted with information regarding Site ⬛⬛ operating procedures or personnel. Note 2a: Who the fuck is giving SCP-141-a information?

SCP-141-b: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. SCP-141-b is an anomalous individual from London displaying memetic properties which convince anyone talking to him that they've known him for years. D class personnel exposed to SCP-141-b for an extended period of time are able to recall false memories of him from various points in their life, as well as give general descriptions of SCP-141-b's likes and dislikes. SCP-141-b seems unaware but unbothered by this and will simply nod politely when the fictional memories are brought up. When asked about any relation later SCP-141-b will claim he has "never met them in his life," but that they "seemed nice enough."

SCP-141-c: John "Soap" Mactavish. SCP-141-c is an anomalous individual from Glasgow displaying an anomalous understanding of weaponry and physics, which he is unable to replicate outside of the group. When grouped into SCP-141 he is able to disassemble and reassemble weapons into different functions, replacing and substituting parts between weapons. His understanding of physics while within SCP-141 seems to function outside of normal understanding. He appears to make up rules as he goes along, and is able to follow them even when they go against established laws of physics. Researchers attempting to follow steps SCP-141-c outlined are unable to replicate his results. Normal physics and mechanics apply when SCP-141-c is outside of the group.

-SCP-141-c Research Logs-

SCP-141-d: ⬛⬛⬛ "Ghost" ⬛⬛⬛. SCP-141-d is an anomalous individual from Manchester, England. He is unable to be photographed, and will not show up in photos taken of him.

Note: SCP-141-d's inability to show up in photos seems to be a secondary anomalous property. Given the recent break out of SCP-141 from Site ⬛⬛ as well as the observations gained from new containment procedures it is theorized that SCP-141-d is unable to die. SCP-141-d appears to be able to take massive amounts of lethal damage without flinching. Secondary effect SCP-141-d-a allows any member of SCP-141 to heal SCP-141-d using basic first aid. Note 2: How the fuck is this guy still walking. Note 3: Please keep all notes to observations only.

SCP-141-e: SCP-141-e is an unknown anomalous entity which seems to share a psychic link to SCP-141-a and is able to communicate information to SCP-141-a. SCP-141-a refers only to this entity as "Laswell" and cannot be persuaded to share further details. SCP-141-e seems to give SCP-141-a orders, and has an almost omniscient understanding of situations and enemies that SCP-141 may come across.

*Following SCP-141's recent escape and the loss of several personnel containment procedures must be revisited.

**Someone bring these assholes in and tell them to stop taking off their fucking arm bands or we're going to chip them.

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Price: I think that Simon has started stalking Y/N Simon: Its not 'stalking' if Y/N Likes it

[boowritess]

not to be horny on main. this is my only account

but someone linked a corn twitter video of a guy eating a girl out saying it was Captain John Price right...

and i could see it. the hair, the face, the way he did it. but what stuck out was the wedding band on his fucking finger.

so. now i can't stop thinking about married!neighbor!price x babysitter!reader.

mildnsfw-not explicit but still mdni

you're just a pretty young thing on break from uni who just wanted to make a little cash. your parents' neighbors seemed to be the perfect answer. they needed a babysitter as the parents were too busy doing other things.

how could you say no? more than happy to look after the little girl. hang out with her all day, or some afternoons while her parents were out all day, sometimes the time trickled into night - nearly midnight.

you didn't mind. not when they - when price - paid so well.

especially not when price made it up to you those late nights by flashing a little more money and crawling between your thighs as you lounged on their plush sofa. watching as price greedily took off the shorts and panties you wore.

his face buried between your thighs, bread scraping the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. his golden wedding band gleaming under the light against your stomach as he kept you in place. his eyes focusing on your face, watching as you came undone again and again.

"dirty girl, letting a married man eat you out..." his husky voice growls, nipping the skin of your inner thigh with his teeth.

there's a fiery look in your eyes as you softly hiss, looking down at him. "says the old man who's getting off on eating out the babysitter." you chide, having spotted the bulge in his pants.

your attitude sets off a spark in him that he thought he well and truly no longer he had. who knew all it took was a pretty young thing with bite and fire in her to get him eager again.

he clicks his tongue, unsure if he's impressed or annoyed at the quick comeback. but he climbs up towards your face, "cheeky fucking girl..." he hisses with no real heat.

there's a dark look in his eyes, which starts to shine when he see's a smile spread across your face, tongue licking your lips, "dirty old fucking man..."

yeah. you'll be the death of him.

a/n: kinda rushed because it was very much a spur of the moment type of thought lmaoo.

[bleuu-moon]

Bodyguard Price who accidentally walks in on you with another man’s face between your thighs, expecting you to snap your head in his direction and curse at him to get out. Except you don’t. Your head just tilts toward him, bliss plastered over your face with a small smirk creeping across your lips. Your eyes burn into his as he begins backing away from the door, but your brows frown, almost a look of pleading —

Don’t go.

So John stays, and he’s not sure what makes him, maybe it’s the way you look, or the way you sound, or even the way you’re peering at him like he’s the one serving you pleasure. And it makes him wonder if it’s what you wanted, leaving your bedroom door slightly ajar, something that you never do whenever you have guests over, knowing that he’d call up to check on you for the final time that evening.

He scans your entire nude figure, your knees being pushed up and open, your hands gripped to your satin sheets, your hips softly grinding against the tongue of the lucky son of a bitch. A look of guilt is flashes across his face, knowing that he should quit whilst he’s ahead, and leave you to your business. But your eyes are locked to his, cementing his feet to the floor, and he does something he’ll know he’ll regret tomorrow, he leans against the frame. He makes himself comfortable, he lets you know that he wants to stay and watch.

And with just that singular action, the image of John paired with the heat that was pooling within your pussy becomes too much. Your orgasm brims, and it pours out from all angles. The eyes that were trained on your bodyguard, roll to the back of your skull, your back arching off your bed, as your knees clasp together. The symphonies that you sing are nothing short of perfection in John’s ears, all whilst he watches you fall apart infront of him.

Ecstasy, it feels like it last for hours. Your orgasm overwhelming you, and turning you into jelly, and when your vision un-blurs, you’re no longer looking towards the door, but instead your ceiling. Becoming deaf to what your hookup mutters as he peels from you, your eyes trail to the frame once again, except this time, it’s empty, and clarity hits you full force in the face.

Breakfast is going to be awkward tomorrow.

[rodolfoparras]

not to be crazy but reader being crazy obsessed over dragon!price. maybe reader's a hybrid, or maybe he's just a human; but it doesn't matter, not when all he cares about is john, john, john, john. a reader who's so obsessed price, no matter what he does or say, cannot seem to get rid of you. in the peripherals of his vision he is haunted by you, whether you are actually there or not, you have infested his mind just as much as he's infested yours.

a reader who's so obsessed he'll go up against creatures much stronger and older than he is, against creatures with teeth and claws and magic that hums in their veins - but that magic and claws and teeth are all usually against a man who's sole purpose is to live for another man, for a man who you're so deeply and dearly enamored with. their size and strength and whatever mystical, non-human features are all useless against you, whose veins scream for violence and blood, who scream at you to get rid of anyone that so much as breathes your john's way.

and price isn't sure whether to be impressed or disturbed by the amount of heads that arrive packaged onto his desk, the dismembered limbs he throws out with distaste on his tongue. it boggles his mind whenever he finds out you've gotten rid of yet another hybrid, how someone like you - either a human man or a weaker hybrid of sorts - have managed to become the personification of death itself.

he's more exasperated when he somehow finds out you've been stalking him, finds the collection of polaroids of him stored away somewhere, finds a shrine just for him, than he is frightened. he's never had anyone be so obsessed with him the way you are in all his years of living, and despite himself, with every corpse or limb found, with every sickly love letter finding itself on his desk, with stolen clothes finding itself in your bedroom or laundry, with the little bloodied gifts you leave him, it has his draconic instincts purring at a potential mate.

Cw: 18+, dragon!Price, dragon! male reader obsessiveness, stalking, scent kink, masturbation, voyarism, exhibitionism, briefly Nikolai x Price, brief mention & depiction of dismemberment, yandere!reader, yandere!Price

It all started with a small act of kindness. You were getting scolded by a superior for something you’d done- had almost gotten kicked out of your squad because of that, when suddenly Price had swooped in and uttered a little white lie “he didn’t mean it, I’ll keep him in check don’t worry about it general” and got you out of trouble in a matter of seconds

Truth be told Price forgot all about you after that encounter but you couldn’t forget about him. You spent every waking moment learning about him who he was - a dragon hybrid and a captain- what he’d done- fought in wars and served everything from kings to generals - learned all about who he keeps in his inner circle - it had once been his mate now it’s mostly his squad and oh his mate -she was absolutely beautiful- a dragon hybrid just like him. They’d been together for years until she’d gotten killed.

That’s at least what you had read in one of the many journal he keeps in his room. You had snuck in one day when he left for a mission with the intentions to just look around but you had ended up with your clothes on the floor and fucking one of his pillows just because it smelled like him, - soap and cologne still embedded into the pristine white fabric, and still carrying the imprint from where his head once had been. So of course you folded the pillow right in the middle and slid your cock inside of it, losing yourself in its tight and warm grip, pretending it was the stand offish dragon captain you were fucking before spilling ropes of cum all over the sheets.

Then it came to the over protectiveness. You really wouldn’t call it that. You just wanted to make sure he was alright. So what if you watched him through the cracks of his office door while he held conversations with Nikolai? And what if you stayed as his lips crashed onto the Russians, while your hand slipped down your pants and what if you snuck into Price’s room the morning after and buried your face in his underwear just so you know that Nikolai didn’t take it any further?

But Price knew- could feel your eyes on him as he lined Nikolai’s cockhead up with his entrance. Price knew -could hear your growl and the way your hand stroked your cock as he bounced on Nikolai’s cock. Price knew- and he enjoyed it, tipped over the edge at the sheer thought of it, vision turning blurry and ears ringing as he slumped into the other man’s embrace.

So it wasn’t to any surprise when he discovered the Polaroids you kept of him, stashed under your mattress but poking out enough for him to get a glimpse. He had come to your room to talk about your recent behavior. Things had started to get out of hand. He didn’t really care that you watched his every step. What he did care about were the soldiers that had mysteriously gone missing, soldiers he’d gotten into minor arguments with prior to the incident, but eventually popped back up in his office or rather his desk- body completely dismembered and limbs neatly wrapped, reminding him of a Christmas Day in hell and Price was sure he knew who was behind it

There were plenty of Polaroids, so much so they made up an entire album.

Some were rather innocent in nature, snapshots of him while he was smoking a cigar or talking with Kate or any member of 141 . The photographs were blurry - unfocused almost as if you’d accidentally taken them but he knew that wasn’t the case. Some were a bit more suggestive: a close up shot of his ass while he was maneuvering the shooting range or a shot of his scantily clad lower half as he held a training session with the team. He could only imagine what you did with those,

But there were more polaroids, snapshots of him while he’s clearly asleep, blissfully unaware of what’s happening. Going by the murky surroundings, the pictures must’ve been taken whenever the two of you were out on a mission together and shared a tent.

Some were close up shots of his face, cheeks dusted in pink and hair in disarray, completely unaware of what’s happening. Other Polaroids were blurry shots of his body, silver of skin peaking through the clothes he’s wearing, probably a direct cause from all the tossing and turning he’d done in his sleep. Despite the nature of them, they were rather innocent, reminding you of causal snapshots someone would take of their lover.

But something about that had heat creeping up his cheek, blood pooling straight to his dick.

He could imagine you sprawled out on your bed, or seated in his office chair, one hand holding a Polaroid; probably a snapshot of him smoking a cigar, while the other hand was stroking your cock.

Disgusting he thinks as his hand shakily unbuckles his jeans, doesn’t even bother to take a seat.

How could he allow anyone as sick as you into his team? He thinks, hand grasping his dick, that’s already hard and weeping.

He should report you for misconduct and get you kicked out of the army, he thinks, thumb swiping over his tip, smearing around the pre that had been collecting there as grunts and groans escapes his lips

All thoughts escape his head as he sets a steady pace with his hand, stroking root to tip while his free hand fondles his ball sack.

“Fuck!” He grunts out, eyes fluttering shut, head tipping back as he fucks into his own hand.

“John?”

[s-oaps]

CAPTAIN PRICE 🤚 IN MODERN WARFARE III

[angel5ofp0rn]

pt. 7 😋

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

*still bad at writing smut. jus pretend i wrote something good… also im sorry!!!!

DIDNT REREAD AT ALLLL JUST STARTED TYPING SO PLZ BE PATIENT 🥺

You’re already awake when John's eyes finally begin to blink open, his first sight being the back of your head.

You’re fidgeting with his wedding band again, gently tracing your thumb over the engraving as you hold his left hand that’s slung over you.

"Mornin’..." He mumbles once he finally stops blinking, his eyes slowly coming into focus again as he realizes that you're awake. He sees you toying with his wedding band, which makes him smile as he watches.

“Hey there.” You smile, finally removing your hand from his.

You turn to lie on your back so you can see him better.

The regret of letting him stay after ruining your date had started to set in… but the memory of what the two of you did last night helped blur the lines.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask quietly. John’s eyes are studying your face with a lazy smile on his lips.

“God, y’r so beautiful.” John whispers, eyes locked on yours.

Your cheeks flush pink, though you have no idea why he still has that effect on you.

Your hands move to your face, covering your blushing cheeks with a laugh.

John laughs too, prying your hands away from your face. “Just lemme look at you, lovey. I can’t get enough.”

John manages to remove your hands and pin them above your head with one hand while his other hand cupped your face, turning you towards him. He presses kisses from your temple down to your jaw, then to your neck.

You squirm under him when his lips move back up and get close to yours; you turn your face away from him.

“Is something wrong..?”

“Morning breath.” You mumble. John chuckles, turning you back to your side and pulling you close by your hips.

“We can work aroun’ it.” He murmurs in your ear, his hardness pressing against your ass. You can’t help but to giggle when John starts to dry hump you like a horny teenager. It’s fun for you to see him like this recently; it’s like he’s been trying to make up for lost time.

Though your giggles quickly turn into a gasp when the head of his thick cock pushes your lips apart, slowly pushing in. John’s big arms are wrapped around you in a bear hug as he thrusts into your still sore cunt.

A strong hand grips your thigh, lifting your leg so he can get a better angle. A deeper fuck.

You can’t do much but moan and whimper as John takes what he wants— not that you’re not enjoying it.

“That’s right, lovey, that’s it-” John talks you through your climax, but not slowing down on your behalf. His grunts and your moans fill the room; your eyes roll back when John finally does come… You whine a bit when he begins to pull out, which makes him laugh softly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I miss you when you pull you.” You pout. “Can’t we just nap with it in?”

John snorts.

You look up at him when he finally sits up and stretches.

“Staying for breakfast..?”

John looks relieved when you ask him to stay.

“Making breakfast.” He grins before he leans down and finally steals a kiss despite your morning breath warning. “Lemme get the kids up.”

You watch as John stands up and pulls on a pair of joggers before heading out to the hall. He’s clearly comfortable being back in his old house.

Your eyes widen when you see the evidence of last night; red scratch marks over his back, bite marks on his shoulders.

You quickly pull on John’s boxers from the floor and a hoodie from the hamper, and follow after him with his t-shirt in hand.

John freezes for a moment as he feels your hands pull the shirt over his head. He looks back at you with a questioning look.

"What're you doing?" He says this with a confused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow.

"Marked you up pretty good." You blush, rubbing his back gently after his shirt is on. You give his butt a pat and heard towards your youngest’s bedroom.

“She still a grump in the mornings?” John asks.

“Not when her daddy’s home.” You shrug.

Home.

•••

“You’ve gotta let her go at some point.”

John looks up at you in the doorway from where he’s sat on your youngest’s toddler bed. It was practically a chair for him due to his stature.

“Right…” John looks back down to your youngest who, sleepy after her bath, is fast asleep in his lap. Her damp hair is combed out of her face and her cheek is pressed right up against John’s chest

“I just, eh… I’ve missed a lot of her life, haven’t I?”

“She’s still little.” You reassure him. “There’s still time.”

John stands up slowly and is gentle when laying her back on the little bed. He pulls the covers up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her head.

After John joined you in the doorway, he crosses his arms as he swallows back a small lump in his throat, thinking about the years that had passed and the time he lost with his kids and you.

Only seeing you two days a week just wasn’t enough.

You rub John's arm gently. He's normally not a very affectionate or emotional man, but he has a soft spot when it comes to his family.

John looks at you with watery eyes.

"You big softie." You tease, knowing he's really anything but.

"Alright." John rolls his eyes at you and grins as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom.

John sits at the edge of the bed and you sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You could tell the guilt was eating at John, for missing out on the kids first few years.

“You’re a great dad, John.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that, right?”

John sighs.

“You are.” You smile softly, one arm now around his neck and the other hand on his chest. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else to have babies with.”

John chuckles at that. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I’d still have 98 more with you.”

John's eyes shift up to meet yours once you say that.

He raises an eyebrow at first as he takes a moment to process that... but then, he eventually laughs. "You’re crazy…" His smirk widens a bit, and he moves his thumb along your jawline now.

"What if we have another?" You practically whisper.

"You’re not serious…” John shakes his head slowly.

“I think it’d be wrong not to.” You fake a little pout. “Have you seen our babies? They’re gorgeous.”

“You want to keep having babies with me, is that it? More mini-me’s running around?”

“I do.” You nod, you face moving closer to his. You smile when your lips meet, just barely brushing against each other.

John smiles back. "Well, I'm not gonna deny you..." His grin widens a little now as he stands, you in his arms.

He tosses you gently onto the bed.

You grab the front of his shirt and pull him into you.

•••

After a few hours, the two of you had moved from the bed to the floor, the bathroom counter, and now you are in the kitchen having a water break.

The two of you, sweaty, out of breath, and exhausted, look at each other grinning ear to ear as you sip your waters.

You’re stood across from John with a robe on and your legs crossed, as a precaution.

John has just his boxers on as he finishes his water and looks at you, leaning back against the kitchen island.

"Feeling a little uncomfortable, love?" He says this as he notices the little way that you're standing, and then he gives a smirk.

"Forgot how messy it is." You confess with flushed cheeks.

John hums in acknowledgment and pulls you into his arms, kissing you softly; a nice change of pace.

He lets the kiss hold for a bit longer than a usual peck before finally letting go and gently squeezing your rear as he pulls away.

"You need anything from me right now lovey?" He asks with a soft look.

"I want you to move back in."

John pauses for a bit after you make this request. He stays quiet as he blinks, looking surprised as he hears this.

"Really?" He asks, wanting to make sure he heard you correctly.

Part of him thought that he'd have to beg for this.

"If you were serious about wanting us to do this again, then I want to do it for real. You're moving back in to our house, we're sleeping back in our bed, and we're being a family again."

“You mean that?” John asks cautiously.

You nod. “But I’m keeping our no fighting rule. You have to communicate with me, John.”

“Anything, love. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Your smile grows at how eager he is to get back together. “You’re stuck with me now, Johnathan Price.”

John just laughs, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you into a another kiss.

Your arms are draped around his neck when you’re set back on your feet.

“I’ve missed this.” You admit quietly.

“I’ve missed you.” John counters. His smile suddenly falters a bit when he speaks again. “But we should really talk about it more, figure it all out before we rush into it.” He runs his hand over his beard.

"We can talk it over tomorrow..." You slowly undo your robe, keeping your eyes on him.

John watches you undress slowly, his eyes glued to your every movement. He continues looking at you throughout the whole process.

Once the robe hits the floor, John lets out a soft groan and looks you over.

You hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his hips closer to you.

John smirks as you pull him closer to you, and he lets himself get pulled in willingly. His hands move to your ass, giving it a squeeze.

"Again? What're you doin' to me, lovey..."

•••

You look up from brushing your teeth and notice John waiting in the doorway of the washroom.

“Missed me that much?” You tease. “I thought you’d be asleep by now…”

John shakes his head, looking just as wrecked as you felt. “Wanna talk to you first.”

You glance at him again, noticing his suddenly stoic expression.

“Sure,” You nod, following him into the bedroom. The two of you sit at the edge of the bed, next to each other. You instantly get a sick feeling in your stomach by seeing how anxious John looks.

He sighs, closing his eyes tightly as he gathers up the courage to just say it.

"There's something I didn't tell you, that night…" John hesitates before continuing, the silence between the two of you becoming deafening.

He remains silent for a moment longer, trying to find the perfect way to word this to you.

You don't speak.

You think back to the fight that lead to you wanting a divorce.

His job had kept him away for months at a time, that's what started it.

You felt like every time he came back, he was more and more distant. Then you found a plane ticket back to London.

You accused him of cheating, and he couldn't prove you wrong.

John's voice gets quiet as he takes another deep breath.

"That night... I didn't cheat on you. I did keep something from you, but not because of that.” He opens his eyes and looks at you for just a second before he goes back to looking down at the floor.

“Then what was it?” Your voice was strained as you tried to coax the truth out of him. "Just tell me what it was so we can try to move past it.”

“I have a… I have a child. A son, back in London.”

You froze.

Your stomach sank.

You couldn’t even speak.

John sits quietly and waits for you to say something, anything.

"How old?" You ask softly, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your "no fighting" rule.

"He's ten..." He hesitates again, unsure of just what else to add.

You let out a shaky breath. Ten. He’s older than your oldest, meaning that he wasn’t a result of John cheating on you...

You finally open your eyes , ready to look at him.

"Why... Why wouldn't you tell me that you had a child from before we met?"

John sighs again, not expecting you to be this levelheaded about things. He was expecting something much different from this.

“I was afraid.” John admits. He pauses to look away briefly before continuing. "I… I just kept trying to find the right time, the right way to say it to you..."

"...were you with his mother when we met?"

The question catches him off guard, you could see it on his face.

"Yes... I was..."

"I'm gonna be sick." You get off of the bed and stand up.

John immediately stands as well, watching you as you stand and start to walk away from him.

"Wait-" He quickly grabs your arm to stop you, unsure if you're going to the bathroom to be sick or just not look at him anymore.

You pull your arm from his grasp

"You were with her and had a child with her and yet you still took me home from the bar that night? You still fucked me the next day?"

“…yes.” He sighs, still avoiding eye contact. His voice drops to almost a whisper.

"And then you... would say you were at work and instead visited them? Were you still fucking her?!” You tried not to raise your voice, more for the sake of the children than for John.

John tries his best to not get angry, but he's fighting back a lot of emotions now, primarily frustration with himself. He stays quiet for a few long moments, unsure of what to say. He rubs his eyes and then speaks again, trying to find the right words.

“…no, I wasn’t fucking her. I haven’t cheated on you, I want that to be clear.”

"I'm having a hard time believing you." You admit bitterly, crossing your arms. “You and I were divorced for two years; you came back for one night and we’ve been fucking ever since.”

“Wasn’t like that with her.” John insists with a curt shake of his head.

"Why didn't you just tell me the night we met? Or the next morning?"

He stays silent again as he thinks about that very question. He takes in a long breath and then finally answers, his voice still a bit quiet.

"I didn't think you would have given me a chance if you knew the truth..." John says softly, starting to feel some resentment towards himself start to build up.

"The truth being that you had a girlfriend and a baby back home, and were fully planning on cheating on her."

John remains silent.

He didn't know how to argue with that.

He knew it was true. He knew he was being selfish at the time, but he just couldn't let you go after that night. He couldn't explain it.

"Or was she your wife? Fuck, I feel like I don't know anything about you!" Your voice cracks as the tears start forming.

John can hear how hurt you are in your voice, and he hates seeing you like this. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that you wouldn’t let him.

Not when it was his fault that you were like this.

"Six years, John. You've had six years to tell me about this." You keep your arms crossed tightly, trying to stop the angry jitters.

John doesn’t speak.

"How often do you see them?" You ask suddenly, your breath shaky.

"Not often," John answers earnestly. He rubs his face as he tries to continue.

"I only see them once a month, maybe... Every few months, at least. I just go over to spend time with my son..." His words get a little stuck in his throat, feeling the guilt eat away at him like a virus.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"About a month ago..." John says softly, his voice sounding just a little bit sad as he mentions how long it's been since he's seen his son.

Your eyes widen.

He had to have just come back from seeing them when he came to shovel the driveway.

John notices how your eyes widen at what you just heard. He immediately looks down, feeling even more shame wash over him.

"You... You're-" You rub your eyes, feeling like I'm about to lose it on him.

John keeps quiet, waiting for the worst to come from this.

If you want to yell at him, if you want to throw things, hit him, kick him out again, he wouldn't blame you at all for any of it.

He'd take it all on the chin if it meant that he could get the opportunity to fix things.

Instead, you just cry.

Sobbing, shaking.

John has had a secret family for the last eight years and kept it a secret from you for the entire six years you’ve known each other.

Your children have a sibling they've never met, but their dad spends time with pretty often.

You’re gutted.

John's reaction to your crying is instant. He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you as you cry.

He knows that nothing he could say right now could make your pain go away, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he still tries his best.

"...I'm sorry, lovey… I’m so sorry," He whispers. He tries to think of anything else to say, but that's all he can say, all he has right now.

John rubs your back as he holds you close to him, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.

John feels your grip around him tighten as you continue to cry, and he squeezes you tight too, not wanting to let go. Just letting you cry against his chest, rubbing your back lightly as he continues trying to process all that just happened.

John rests his chin on your head, his voice raspy when he finally speaks again.

“That night we met… I left your flat knowing that I had to leave her for you; it was love at first sight. I needed to be yours, love. I needed you to be mine.”

You finally pull out of his embrace.

You wipe your tears off of your face and try to steady your shaky breathing.

"You should... You should sleep on the couch."

John watches as you pull away from him.

He's speechless.

He was expecting more... For you to kick him out all together, to tell him to go back to his own place...

But instead you're just calmly telling him where he should sleep.

John nods slowly. He doesn’t fight. He walks downstairs without another word.

You don't even want to be in your bed, where John and you have been sleeping together.

Instead you quietly go into your youngest’s bedroom and scoop her up, carrying her into your oldest’s bedroom and crawling in beside him in his twin bed, holding both of your children close.

<< prev next >>

[cod-dump]

Graves, rushing into the room: John! Do you love me?

Price: Uh- Yes?

Graves: Say it like you mean it!

Price: I love you

Graves: Say it with passion!

Price: I love you!

Graves: Hmm, good boy *leaves*

Price:

Nik, sitting next to him reading: I see training is going well

Price: Training? FOR WHAT??

Nik: Good boys don’t need to worry about that

Price:

Price: This is new