cherryblossomdelusion

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Sleepover

NSFW version

Snog, marry, fuck

Snog: Kyle has the softest lips. That man takes his time and knows what he’s doing to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

Marry: John Price is nearing the end of the career. I’m sorry. He’s not that old, but he’s getting older for active military. He’s going to get ready on settling down soon. Creating roots. He’ll be financially well off to have a lil stay at home wife (ME) and start making babies. He’ll still be involved with the 141, but nothing on the frontlines.

Fuck: Ghoap. They are one entity at this point. Johnny and Simon are dirty bastards who won’t bother working you up by making out. Johnny will eat pussy until you see stars and Simon’s cock will ruin you for any other man.

Oh I love it! So true for each of them as well.

Snog: I’d snog Johnny. I feel like he’d be so dirty about it. All tongue and spit, teeth clashing together as he tries to work his way deeper into your mouth. His hands in your hair or wrapped around you, holding you close and grinding against your thigh, groaning into your mouth.

Marry: I’m torn between marrying John or Simon, both retired.

John would be so old fashioned, finally retired and wanting a little stay at home wife. He’d have all that military money saved and loads more in coffee cans and cookie jars; his whole life savings just waiting to be spent on a house, a crib, and those designer heels he loves you to wear while he fucks you.

Simon, how lucky he feels that you belong to him. I so feel like you’d both settle in a sweet little cottage far away from civilisation. Somewhere he can be mask free, he can just be Simon. Not ghost or LT, just Simon. He’d so take up gardening, green thumbs indeed, growing all the food you eat and learning how to cook so when you come home from work (when you’re not working from home that is) he’s got a hot home made meal waiting for you to devour before he devours your pussy, his sweet wife.

Fuck: Gaz. God he’d be so perfect. Overachiever that he is, he’d go all in trying to make you scream his name. Grinning as you arch your back, hips starting to ache but he pushes through that wanting to watch you cum all over his cock. His gorgeous chocolate skin looks so pretty in the candlelight, thin layer of sweat making him shine. He’s everything.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

First of all I wanna say a great big thank you to all of you who have supported me and helped me grow with my writing.

This sweet autumn sleepover is in celebration of almost hitting 4K followers

My lovelies, you absolutely spoil me with your asks and your support. This post and this entire blog is 18+.

The sleepover games are:

Kiss, Marry, Kill ~ pick three characters and send them in. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.

Or the nsfw version Snog, Marry, Fuck.

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Drabble me;

Choose the character you want.

The prompt that excites you linked here.

Three specific words you want me to use linked here.

And I’ll come up with a little Drabble to fit your needs. Please specify if you want it to be sfw or nsfw.

Any rambling headcanons you have, whatever lovelies. I’m here to listen and talk.

You just wanna talk? Have that sleepover gossip? Send in an ask💋

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Starts on Saturday the 7th at 11:45am EST - Ends on Saturday the 14th at 11:45am EST.

Send your asks in now babes!

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Kisses, S.

| Main Masterlist | Limerence | John Price |

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Slow burn but they are also fucking the whole time trope but it’s Price Got a little dark at the end, don’t at me.

Price taking things nice and slow, thrusting in and out at such an agonising, teasing pace. But it’s hard and rough, your face pressed against the bed while you sob into the sheets with every jolt of his hips against yours.

Price taking things slow as he rubs over your swollen little clit, grinning at the way you whine and tug at the cable tie restraining your hands and keeping them attached to the hook he so thoughtfully drilled into the wall.

Price taking things slow as he slips his thick fingers inside your throbbing cunt, watching in awe as your mouth opens the further he pushes in, searching for that sweet spot and groaning a “there it is.” When your back arches off the bed and your eyes roll back before fluttering close.

Price taking things slow when he gropes your tits and ass, trying to throw you off when you’re asking what type of man he is. Price is not an ass man. Price is not a tits man. Price is a hot, pulsing, slippery, dripping, pussy man.

Price taking things slow as he wines and dines you every single night, using that hard earned military money to buy you pretty things. Price who watches your cute eyes light up when he places his dog tags around your neck.

Price who will ‘wait’ as long as you need him to before he pops the question, knowing full well he already has a beautiful ring in a box tucked away in his sock drawer.

Price who knows, even if one day you say you don’t love him anymore, because he knows you do even if you refuse to say it, even if one day he has to wisk you away to some remote cabin far far away, there’s no way in hell he’s letting you go.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

The person I reblogged this from is awesome as fuck.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

[cherryblossomdelusion]

HOLY SHIT SQUISH! THIS IS SO EFFING HOT!💖💖💖💖

This Price thot that got away with me..❤️‍🔥🖤

The fire had started to die down, John grabbed a piece of firewood he’d freshly chopped this morning while you lounged in the sweet little pillow and blanket pile you’d made earlier by the fireplace, trying your hardest to ignore the slight stretch you felt with a plug inside your aching core, keeping you stuffed full of Price’s cum. Your clit still pulsing from the memory of his filthy words.

“That’s it sweet girl, taking my cock so well. Let it out love, let it all out.”

Price flung the wood onto the fire before pulling away the soft heavy weight blanket hiding your needy body from him. His ocean eyes raked over your figure, admiring the way you shook with pleasure. His truly oversized hands began teasingly tracing over your skin, his pearly whites flashing under the bushy mutton hops and full beard when you twitched as his fingertips glazed where your thigh and hip met.

Slowly sliding the plug out of your dripping cunt, he felt himself harden even more, his cock becoming painfully tight. “Fuck honey, this pretty cunt, fuck.” He shook his head, eyes fixated on the way his cum from this morning dripped out of you. There wasn’t a prettier sight than this.

How he longed to keep you stuffed full of it so you wouldn’t even think of leaving. Not that you would, Price likes to think by this point he’s reconditioned your mind to need him and only him for anything even the tiniest things like dropping a fucking apple on the floor, in fact he prides himself on it.

“John.” Your back arched, his body moulded against yours, fitting perfectly together, being made for eachother had its perks, he thought. His hairy, sturdy chest pressed against your tits, squishing them there. His scent consumed you, fresh rain, cigars and something musky.

His thick fingers stroked down your stomach, grabbing softly at the pudge there before he slid into your throbbing hole. He could never describe the satisfaction he gets from seeing the blissed look you get on your face when he first slips his fingers inside you.

“Let me hear you love, nice and loud for me.” Price growled from somewhere deep within his chest, his pupils dilating until you couldn’t see any blue at all. “Gonna fuck you,” he grunted his fingers thrusting in and out of you, curling just right just where you needed it, “But you’re gonna cum all over my hand first.”

The fire ablaze once more, just like the feeling that burned in your lower abdomen. That coil that got tighter with every slide against that spongy spot deep inside you.

“Fuck I can’t, too much.” You whined, pussy still sensitive from the way John had woken you up with his tongue lapping at your clit. And fuckkk the way he’d flipped you onto your back and pounded into you from behind until you were cock drunk, only able to say his name on repeat.

“No, come on now, be a good girl for me,” Price’s voice transformed and you wondered if that’s how he spoke to his unit. Before you even had chance to say you couldn’t again, he brushed his thumb over your achey clit. You sobbed, moaning into the evening air, your hips jerking up against his hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed darkly, “look at you buck your hips like a good fucking girl.”

“Fuck Johnnyyy.” The way his eyes shot to your face, your pretty eyes closed, mouth open, head thrown back digging into the pillows on the floor. Johnny, it was a very limited nickname for him, only hearing it on very rare occasions. But every time he loved it.

“Oh you’re gonna cum for me aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, even if he had to force you, you were going to cum for him. Adding a third finger and changing his angle, he bullied your cunt, plunging in and out desperate to feel you gush.

Pulling his body away from yours and leaning down, he dove right in, tongue licking, sucking and flicking at your clit. “Oooo Johnny yes! John fuck keep doing that baby!” Your hips jolting, almost riding his face not that he minded. You kept going, feeling your body burn with need the faster you bucked and the deeper his fingers went.

The feeling was so addictive you never wanted it to end, never wanted to come down but the world was against you. Your orgasm slammed into you pushing you to arch your back into the air, no longer able to jerk your hips away John saw his opportunity to hold you there and lick lick lick, until you screamed squirting onto his face and hand.

“Fuck off John!” You screeched trying to push his face away with your hands but to no avail, the way he kept you bent, you could barely reach. He stayed there a while before eventually taking pity on you and pulling away.

His thick facial hair soaked with your juices, “I thought I was Johnnnyyyyy.” He mimicked you with a fat grin on his gorgeous face.

“Fuck off.” You spat moving to turn on your side so you could get up, only for his big hands to roll you all the way onto your front. His body moulding with yours once more, you could feel the thickness of him, the hair. It made you burn with anticipation.

“Now where d’ya think you’re going love? I told you I was going to fuck you.”

©️ squishycheekanon 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

This Price thot that got away with me..❤️‍🔥🖤

The fire had started to die down, John grabbed a piece of firewood he’d freshly chopped this morning while you lounged in the sweet little pillow and blanket pile you’d made earlier by the fireplace, trying your hardest to ignore the slight stretch you felt with a plug inside your aching core, keeping you stuffed full of Price’s cum. Your clit still pulsing from the memory of his filthy words.

“That’s it sweet girl, taking my cock so well. Let it out love, let it all out.”

Price flung the wood onto the fire before pulling away the soft heavy weight blanket hiding your needy body from him. His ocean eyes raked over your figure, admiring the way you shook with pleasure. His truly oversized hands began teasingly tracing over your skin, his pearly whites flashing under the bushy mutton hops and full beard when you twitched as his fingertips glazed where your thigh and hip met.

Slowly sliding the plug out of your dripping cunt, he felt himself harden even more, his cock becoming painfully tight. “Fuck honey, this pretty cunt, fuck.” He shook his head, eyes fixated on the way his cum from this morning dripped out of you. There wasn’t a prettier sight than this.

How he longed to keep you stuffed full of it so you wouldn’t even think of leaving. Not that you would, Price likes to think by this point he’s reconditioned your mind to need him and only him for anything even the tiniest things like dropping a fucking apple on the floor, in fact he prides himself on it.

“John.” Your back arched, his body moulded against yours, fitting perfectly together, being made for eachother had its perks, he thought. His hairy, sturdy chest pressed against your tits, squishing them there. His scent consumed you, fresh rain, cigars and something musky.

His thick fingers stroked down your stomach, grabbing softly at the pudge there before he slid into your throbbing hole. He could never describe the satisfaction he gets from seeing the blissed look you get on your face when he first slips his fingers inside you.

“Let me hear you love, nice and loud for me.” Price growled from somewhere deep within his chest, his pupils dilating until you couldn’t see any blue at all. “Gonna fuck you,” he grunted his fingers thrusting in and out of you, curling just right just where you needed it, “But you’re gonna cum all over my hand first.”

The fire ablaze once more, just like the feeling that burned in your lower abdomen. That coil that got tighter with every slide against that spongy spot deep inside you.

“Fuck I can’t, too much.” You whined, pussy still sensitive from the way John had woken you up with his tongue lapping at your clit. And fuckkk the way he’d flipped you onto your back and pounded into you from behind until you were cock drunk, only able to say his name on repeat.

“No, come on now, be a good girl for me,” Price’s voice transformed and you wondered if that’s how he spoke to his unit. Before you even had chance to say you couldn’t again, he brushed his thumb over your achey clit. You sobbed, moaning into the evening air, your hips jerking up against his hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed darkly, “look at you buck your hips like a good fucking girl.”

“Fuck Johnnyyy.” The way his eyes shot to your face, your pretty eyes closed, mouth open, head thrown back digging into the pillows on the floor. Johnny, it was a very limited nickname for him, only hearing it on very rare occasions. But every time he loved it.

“Oh you’re gonna cum for me aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, even if he had to force you, you were going to cum for him. Adding a third finger and changing his angle, he bullied your cunt, plunging in and out desperate to feel you gush.

Pulling his body away from yours and leaning down, he dove right in, tongue licking, sucking and flicking at your clit. “Oooo Johnny yes! John fuck keep doing that baby!” Your hips jolting, almost riding his face not that he minded. You kept going, feeling your body burn with need the faster you bucked and the deeper his fingers went.

The feeling was so addictive you never wanted it to end, never wanted to come down but the world was against you. Your orgasm slammed into you pushing you to arch your back into the air, no longer able to jerk your hips away John saw his opportunity to hold you there and lick lick lick, until you screamed squirting onto his face and hand.

“Fuck off John!” You screeched trying to push his face away with your hands but to no avail, the way he kept you bent, you could barely reach. He stayed there a while before eventually taking pity on you and pulling away.

His thick facial hair soaked with your juices, “I thought I was Johnnnyyyyy.” He mimicked you with a fat grin on his gorgeous face.

“Fuck off.” You spat moving to turn on your side so you could get up, only for his big hands to roll you all the way onto your front. His body moulding with yours once more, you could feel the thickness of him, the hair. It made you burn with anticipation.

“Now where d’ya think you’re going love? I told you I was going to fuck you.”

©️ squishycheekanon 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Holy shit Squish!! I love the way you write and this price smut is simply delicious🤤🤤🤤🤤🥵

Slow burn but they are also fucking the whole time trope but it’s Price Got a little dark at the end, don’t at me.

Price taking things nice and slow, thrusting in and out at such an agonising, teasing pace. But it’s hard and rough, your face pressed against the bed while you sob into the sheets with every jolt of his hips against yours.

Price taking things slow as he rubs over your swollen little clit, grinning at the way you whine and tug at the cable tie restraining your hands and keeping them attached to the hook he so thoughtfully drilled into the wall.

Price taking things slow as he slips his thick fingers inside your throbbing cunt, watching in awe as your mouth opens the further he pushes in, searching for that sweet spot and groaning a “there it is.” When your back arches off the bed and your eyes roll back before fluttering close.

Price taking things slow when he gropes your tits and ass, trying to throw you off when you’re asking what type of man he is. Price is not an ass man. Price is not a tits man. Price is a hot, pulsing, slippery, dripping, pussy man.

Price taking things slow as he wines and dines you every single night, using that hard earned military money to buy you pretty things. Price who watches your cute eyes light up when he places his dog tags around your neck.

Price who will ‘wait’ as long as you need him to before he pops the question, knowing full well he already has a beautiful ring in a box tucked away in his sock drawer.

Price who knows, even if one day you say you don’t love him anymore, because he knows you do even if you refuse to say it, even if one day he has to wisk you away to some remote cabin far far away, there’s no way in hell he’s letting you go.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

And she’s done it again!!!! AND I WAS WATCHING BRIDGETON TOO!!!!!!!!!!! This is just pure🥵 please please plssssss write a part two!!!

Regency Price thot🌹🤍

I am working on Limerence and Part two of both mountain man and the pen pal au by popular demand. But while you wait for me to write those please enjoy this lovely Viscount John Price and his Viscountess.

Price sat waiting patiently, newspaper in hands reading the latest gossip of the ton. “Aristocrats.” He scoffed low under his breath. Being one of the wealthiest, best-connected members of the middle class came with privileges but too much gossip as far a Price was concerned. Unless it directly affected him he couldn’t care less.

The doors to the dining room opened and in walked a butler, white curly wig on top of his head, his hands wringing together in nervousness as he looked at his master. “Well?” Price asked without looking away from his newspaper, an interesting snippet about a whistle or a lady down or something or other caught his eye.

“My Lord she..” the lack of answer was beginning to agitate him, he rolled up the paper and slammed it on the table, finally making eye contact with the butler.

“What?” Price snapped.

“She doesn’t seem to be here My Lord.” He said, gulping with unease clear in his voice.

“One of the horses is gone too.” A maid had said a little too loudly as she rushed into the room with the important information. Everyone in the room cringed, each and every servent, perhaps at this point even the entire ton, knows if the Viscountess and one of the horses are missing, someone will either be fired or end up in the hospital.

A wave a darkness crashed through the room as John growled out “Find me who by the time I’m back from retrieving my wife.” His orders were clear as crystal as he rushed from the room, Simon, his number two following swiftly after him.

“My horse Simon.” John grunted pulling out his pocket watch from his jacket. After years of being married to you, he always knew exactly where to find you based on the time of day it was or day of the week.

You thrived in order and schedules, one of the many things that he loved about you. Loved knowing he didn’t have to worry where you’d be at eleven in the morning. Always the drawing room catching up the on stitching you’ve been putting off, frustrated when the cross stitch didn’t form the absolute way you wanted it to.

Simon, ever the loyal to a fault number two replied quickly and lowly, “Yes Viscount.” He began to rush ahead of John making it to the stables before him and barking orders at the stable boys to fetch the masters horse and saddle. Price didn’t bother with riding clothes or shoes, simply latching his everyday boot into the stirrup and hoisting himself up into his horse.

“Shall I follow My Lord?” Simon asked head bowed as usual.

“If you wish.” John didn’t stick around after that, whipping his reigns and taking off on the beautiful brown stallion. “Come on boy, we’ve not got long before it rains!” John shouted to his horse as if the creature actually understood him, though in his fear he did not care.

The looks of the sky had him worried, the last time you went riding in the rain you caught pneumonia. He remembers how you shivered, how you were covered in sweat yet cold and how you burned to the touch. He never wishes to see you that way again. These thoughts had him pushing his horse harder to get to you faster. By the cherry tree you should be, and oh does he hope you are.

You however had just become done with your rage fit and were about to leave. Stupid Miss Carmichael, one of the bitchiest women in the ton. Not even married and yet she had the gall to mock you about not getting around to giving John a child yet. Joking about possible infertility, the words made you sick as did her audacity.

You had been married to your husband two years now and yes you were yet to bore him a child. Though the first year of your marriage, due to it being a simple arrangement, you spent it away from him. Always avoiding him, even on your wedding night you locked yourself in your room.

Though finally he managed to get you to open up to him, taught you many things, you began to love him. He had loved you however since the first moment he saw you. More so when you had advertently put him in his place after he was rude to a servant.

You had spent the second year, still getting to know each other and becoming one as husband and wife didn’t happen until three months ago. It had been essentially two years of little innocent hand touches here and there, longing looks and John standing too close to you at balls and events just so he could feel your warmth and smell your scent for longer. You were both still making up for lost time, having children was not at the forefront of your minds. Well not yours anyway.

You sighed glancing at the horse you’d rode here on, you’d best get back to join John for breakfast was your first thought. Even though it would take barely a minute for him to see you were upset and demand who had made you that way. You didn’t need to put your burden on him as much as he always insisted that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do as his wife.

Blinking up at the sky, you saw rain clouds rolling in and started to feel the drizzle of water falling down from above. Then a clap of thunder and you instantly regretted your decision to ride out here after your awful interaction with Miss Carmichael earlier. “Wonderful.” You sighed annoyed as you pulled your cloak hood over your head and made your way back to the black horse waiting patiently for you. One last look at the cherry tree and you set off into the eye of the storm.

“That’s it girl yah!” You whipped your reigns, both feet tight in the stirrups. You never rode side saddle like most women do, preferring to ride properly. Just as the cherry tree was almost out of a view, the most spectacular sight came bounding toward you. Your husband Viscount John Price gallantly riding his brown steed toward you.

“Darling!” His yell was so quiet in the midst of the rain and thunder, though it was enough to have you stopping your horse and remaining stationary as he began to slow down the closer to you he got.

Pulling on the reigns John came to a halt, horses next to one another legs touching. “Before you say anything,” you began blinking up at your handsome husband who was staring down at you heatedly, he nods encouraging you to go on. “It wasn’t raining when I started riding.”

You give him a smile, and despite the fact that you’re wet through, chilled to the bone, and as far as John is concerned in desperate need of a hot bath, he thinks you’re the most beautiful sight to behold. He smiles back leaning in close to you until his nose brushes against yours, his strong hand coming up to cup your jaw as he whispers into your mouth, looking you dead in the eyes.

“I’m not mad my love, but make no mistake, once you’re warm and dry I plan to bend you over my desk and fuck you from behind. Keep you stuffed with my cum all day, then you can tell me the reason for your riding today and who I need to talk to.”

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Ghost… oml you are writing for him too now??? Are you tryna kill me girl?!!!!! This is so so good. The fact that they have the same mind sets but yet so different due to what they do for a job is so cool. I love the thought that they’re just as broken as each other and he can see that in her eyes. It’s so sweet that he’s comforting her the way I’m sure he’s always wished to be comforted. So good Squish! 10/10.

A little Simon ‘ghost’ Riley thot❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

“Triple toe loop first.” Your coach instructed making you nod, a good little soldier. You were good at taking orders and following through without fault. Simply wired that way.

Turning from your coach, you slid one foot in front of the other until you picked up speed on the ice, before turning backward and bringing your left foot down to strike the ice with your toe pick. Pushing up with your body strength, you began spinning in the air and came down to land perfectly.

You glided backward slowing down gradually. Your attention snapped to a sound. An applaud. You never had that in training, it made you cocky and that was bad with this sport.

Twenty minutes earlier…

Ghost couldn’t help himself, he tried. Really he did. Even thought about tying himself to a chair to stop himself but that small little voice tucked away in his cerebral cortex just had to encourage him. And maybe it’s the way he’s wired to take orders, he just had to listen.

The edge of the rink creaked with the weight of his colossal body leaning on it. Blue unrecognisable eyes follow your every movement, every glide, every lutz. Just the way your body bent and folded as you flew. He once again can’t help himself, it’s wired in him like a good little guard dog he examines the area. Oceans waving over each seat and person in the arena.

Ever since he ran into you in that silly little coffee shop, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. It was his fault, even as the cinnamon spiced latte that used to fill the cup in your glove covered hand dripped down his shirt soaking through he knew that much.

And yet you apologised to him, frantically and so politely. Your lips formed into the cutest little pout, the way your forehead creased as your eyebrows pulled together into a frown. Yes, you were an all consuming constant on his mind, never wavering. It was all you.

Then you were on tv, Price’s Mrs had been watching it. Something she had recently become invested in as she had gone into her second trimester and John had very convincingly suggested she start relaxing more and definitely quite that awful job of hers. It was always shitty anyways, even when they first met, well started writing to each other anyway.

“That’s the girl you met today!” Price’s wife squealed slapping his chest, so comfortable with him and the rest of the team. Simon simply nodded, glancing over at his captain though he was busy online, trying to get some weird pregnancy craving snack imported here from America.

He watched you skate gracefully on the tv, even in 4k, it didn’t do you justice. It didn’t show how truly beautiful you were. You bowed to the crowd smiling brightly before catching a bouquet of flowers as the crowd began to throw flowers and teddies and other treats onto the ice while they applauded you.

Simon leant forward, elbows resting on his knees as he noticed how tight your smile was, almost fake. He was almost sure it was fake when he saw it drop as you skated off the ice and out of his sight.

That wouldn’t do. After a little research, Simon found out where you trained and as much as told himself this was wrong. Why was he using his government connections to track you down? He didn’t even know himself but he felt as though he had to know you. Had to make you smile for real.

Now…

Your coach shouted your name in order to get your attention back on training, but it was too late. The gorgeous blue eyed, brown haired, enormous, muscular man held all your attention in the palm of his hand to do with what he wished. “Two minutes.” You yelled back not even looking at her before gliding on the ice towards him. Reaching the edge of the rink you slowed down before leaning against the edge like he did.

“You’re like an angel on that ice.” The compliment makes you grin widely, a pretty sparkle in your eyes that he always wants to see there. See, a real smile.

“Thank you.” Your breath stuttered a little as you became nervous, “What are you doing here?”

Simon thought for a moment. What could he say without sounding like a creep? Without coming on too strong?

“Go on a date with me.” Fuck, he fucked it.

You took a moment to think too. A stranger had just asked you on a date. A very handsome stranger that you spilled your coffee on yesterday. Fuck. Fuck okay.

“Um, sure.” Although you don’t mean it to, it comes out as more of a question.

“Yes or no angel.” You of course said yes. Who could possibly say no to him. It went amazingly, he took you to the fair.

You talked for ages and got to know each other. Though Simon for obvious reasons managed to skate around the question about what he does for a living. Instead he distracted you with Cotten candy.

You greedily ate the sugary fluff while you watched him pick up one of the guns at the game booth. “Careful with that big guy. Think only professionals are supposed to use em.” You joked with a little giggle to follow it up, he cracked a smile at that. Oh honey you’ve got no idea.

“I think I can manage poppet.” He winks at you as he bends slightly and gets set up so quickly. Almost like he knows what he’s doing, he aims and expertly shoots the seven bottles that sit on the side down.

He glances over at the annoyed looking booth guy, before full body turning to you slipping his oversized hands onto your waist and sliding them down to your sides. The feeling of his huge hands heavy on the thickness of your hips had your breath catching in your throat. A shiver racking through your body.

“Which one d’you want angel?” He inspects your face as your eyes reluctantly leave him to search the booth full of stuffed animal teddies.

“That one.” You mumble softly pointing to the large avocado squishmellow toy. He grins down at you, so at ease with you, just able to be himself.

He nods, “okay baby.” His entire demeanour practically screaming anything for you.

Things were going very well, you had managed to take time off to spend with Simon. You’d gone on several dates and spent one very lazy morning in a California king bed all tangled up in the sheets. It was the happiest you’d both been in your entire lives. Unmistakably.

Until you lost your next competition.

“This is all your fault!” You yelled at him, he could see how broken and distraught you were. He knew you were just lashing out, he would gladly let you use him as your punching bag, use him as you pleased as long as it made you feel better.

“Angel.” He started carefully approaching you as if you were a rabid wild animal hands help up in peaceful surrender, only for you to cut him off.

“If you hadn’t come along and distracted me this never would have happened!” Tears gushed down your face as you began to hit his chest, not hard enough to hurt him. Subconsciously you didn’t want to, you’d never want to hurt your Simon. He grabbed your wrists in his large hands, holding them tight and pulling you in close.

“Shh, hey it’s okay. It’s okay poppet.” He shushed you sweetly, cooing at you as began to cry harder than before. He sharply inhales when you look up at him, eyes all glassy from tears, but the look in them. He imagines if he ever let out all the hurt and pain he had bottled inside out, this is what it would look like. When you look at him, he sees his own eyes staring back at him.

He notices the tortured soul festering inside you, how could he have not seen it before? How fucking stupid of him to not see how you were suffering even when all you do is care for him and his needs. He feels like an idiot, though he pushes that down making a silent agreement with himself not to deal with it later.

You were his priority. His angel, sobbing into his strong chest. Simon let his fingers come up to tangle in your hair relaxing your body with his touch. You hated how well it worked, how easy it was for you to give into him.

Simon ignored the stares from your coach and family, to his knowledge there had only been a few times you didn’t win a competition or had fallen over which had affected your score. But even in those times of frustration, even when you were so pent up, so tired and angry at everything; you never cried.

As much as you seemed to hate it, Simon thought this was a good thing. He told you so, “Let it all out my sweet, sweet girl, you’ll feel better once you do.” Albeit hesitant and unwilling, you still listened. Shoving your face deep into his oak and spiced orange smelling chest, you inhaled harshly before letting out a muffled blood curdling scream. You did this a few times, continuing to cry your eyes out and the whole time Simon Riley, Lieutenant Ghost, held you safe and secure promising to never let you go.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

My Lord……😭🥵

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Viking! Since when!!!!!!! Ugh🥵🥵🥵🥵 this is so cute

La da de da viking Price for the win🛡️🌺

Your heavy snow boots trudged through the thick mounds of pure white snow, the freezing breeze was pinching and nipping at your cheeks. The cold had began to hurt your nose as you breathed, the back of your throat dry. Trying your hardest to keep warm, you shove your chin and mouth further into the top of your coat and breathe out hot air.

You only wanted to hunt for food and go back home, but seeing as you couldn’t find any animals near your little cabin, you had to venture elsewhere for the hunt. Something you annoyingly regretted the further away from home you got.

An exaggerated sigh left you for the twentieth time today as you knelt down on the ground feeling the snow start to soak into the material of your trousers. Pulling your bow off of your body and an arrow from the quiver that was strapped to your back. You drew back the string of your bow, holding the arrow steadily in place.

Closing your eyes, you waited. Listening oh so carefully, for anything. The sound of any animal to make itself known to you. A while passed, all you could hear was the soft wind and a nearby steam trickling quietly.

Until the snort of a deer had your eyes shooting open and your weapon aiming at the creature. Exhaling slowly, you let go, the arrow whipping through the air heading straight for the unknowing animal but ultimately hitting a different target. A huge gasp left you as you watched the arrow go straight into the chest of a man, the deer snorted before running off.

You grunted annoyed and dropped everything to run to the injured man. Your eyes set upon his figure. Large and strong, you recon if you’d hit anywhere else on him that’d he probably wouldn’t have collapsed. Probably would have grabbed the end of the arrow with his big sturdy hands and pulled it straight out like nothing happened. Probably.

The realisation started to set in the more you stared at him, you just shot a man. “Oh my, I’m…I’m so sorry!” You panicked falling to your knees next to him where he was on the ground. His blue eyes meeting yours, looking at you as though you were an alien. His nostrils flared as he quietly grunted, feeling the pain begin to spread throughout his chest and body.

“I was hunting and….and you…y-you stepped in front of the deer. I’m so sorry.” Your hands hovers over his injured while your mind began to become frantic with how to proceed. You eyed the expensive leather that graced his bulky figure. Wrapping around every muscle eagerly. The fur cloak that was spread around him, clearly from a hunt.

It did little to hide the tattoos on his arms. Further up chainmail covered his shoulders proving how sharp you’d made your arrows for it to pierce the chainmail that presumably sat below his tunic and leather. You took note of his face better now, thin lips almost covered by a bushy moustache all connected with thick mutton chops and a full, long beard that caught your attention a little too much.

“Are ya’ done ogling me lass?” He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around the arrow and yanking it out. He groaned loudly, deep and rough just like his voice when he spoke. It sent shivers through your body in an unholy way. Nothing like you’d ever felt before.

“Are you a royal from the mainland?” You asked, worry underlining your question.

He bellowed at that, “Ne’er erd’ that one before.” His laugh trailed off as he pressed his fingers into his wound and pulled them away watching the blood drip down his hand.

“My bag.” He was gesturing to the bag that lay a few meters over from where he was. You scrambled to grab it, desperately trying to pull it open. The leather satchel was medium size with about a hundred strings tying it shut.

“W-What do you need?” You were stumbling over your words as you took noticed of the blood that was seeping out of his wound and staining the snow beneath him.

The man grabbed your shaky hands in his and whispered “Breathe.” You listened hesitantly, taking a deep breath.

“Y’know I think I’m supposed to be reassuring you.” A breathless laugh leaving you sounding more like a scoff, he let out a chuckle his face scrunching up in pain.

“In the bag, the bottle with the red liquid.” Nodding quickly, you searched through the bag and pulled out the bottle, pulling the cork out with your teeth and looking at him for instructions. He took the glass container and poured it over his wound and drank the rest of it.

You watched as his heavy panting of pain began to level out. He soon sat up and looked at you curiously, “I’ve ne’er seen ye round these parts before.” He states though you’re pretty sure it was a question, you simply shrug and stand up. He followed suit, a shock jolting through you when he stands only to tower over you greatly.

“I, um really am sorry. It truly was an accident.” You wring your hands together before offering one of them to him. He looks surprised and you don’t blame him, you’re sure a woman has never made this gesture to him before.

“Svo fallegt,” he seemed to look over you for a moment then let his large hand wrap itself around yours with a shake, “S’okay.”You nodded letting go of his grip and making your way to pick up your bow and quiver.

“What’s ya name?” He asked suddenly feeling a wave of panic as he watched you walking away from him. You answered, waiting for his in return. “Price. John Price.”

Now where had you heard that name before?

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Price and Captain cute little thot🐾

“Captain!” You yelled as you kneaded the freshly made bread dough on the kitchen counter, your fingers sticky and dirty.

“He’s with me sweetheart!” John yelled back from outside, his own hands dirty but from the grass and mud as he planted the new basil seeds into the ground, just as you had asked him to this morning in bed your legs all tangled together.

“One of the sausages fell on the floor!” You listen intently to hear Price whistle and mutter something. Soon enough there’s a pitter patter of paws on the floor, a beautiful Belgian malinois with gorgeous hazel eyes peeks his head round the corner.

“Right there baby.” You gesture to the dropped food on the floor, Captain eagerly gobbles it up. His tail wagging happily as he eats.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Just a little price thot🥰🌸

You meet Price in a supermarket. Bumping right into him, more like slamming into him. The pint of chocolate ice cream and box of extra soft tisses that were safety tucked in your arms going all over the floor. Moving rather swiftly for a beefy man of his size, he quickly darts to the ground to grab the dropped items.

He’s so careful about the way he gives them back to you, holding them out to you with a small smile. The comfort items look so much smaller in his hands than they did in yours, he doesn’t even have them all the way out to you. They’re practically against his stomach, unconsciously encouraging you to come to him for them.

Then you look into his eyes and you think you feel your knees going weak, he definitely feels his buckling. The way you blink up at him with your pretty eyes all teary with smudged mascara and your soft lips formed into a sad little pout.

The words who did this he instinctively wants to say die on his tongue when he realises you aren’t his to protect, you don’t even know each other. Strangers, and he already wants to fight your battles without even know what they are.

“M’sorry.” You sniffle.

“Not a problem little darlin.” It’s a deep rumble from within his chest when he speaks. Thin lips curving up slightly, his bushy moustache moving with them, those thick mutton chops and that full beard catching your attention too. His voice is gruff and accented. You reckon you could listen to it every second of the day and never want for silence.

John was there from then on. He was just there, had inserted himself into your life, almost like a stray cat you feed once and suddenly it comes back everyday. This gorgeous older man had simply become a part of your day to day life.

You’re heading to work? He’s giving you a lift in his black chevy truck. You’re on your lunch break? He’s luring you outside for a cute little picnic in the park. You’re finishing work? He’s taking you back to your place and staying. He’s cooking you dinner, massaging your tired body. Lingering touches and longing stares. He wasn’t even trying to hide how much he fancied you.

Especially when it came to you dating other guys. He’d hate when you’d come home after a date, he’s in your apartment obviously waiting for you to return, and you’re all sad it didn’t work out. Questioning yourself and your worth or beauty. It would have Price’s ruggedly handsome face contorting in anger.

He would tell you no man would ever be good enough for you. He would also say no one was deserving of you. John would express that although he very much believed that, he would love it if you gave him the chance to try.

You would be so confused what he meant. Only understanding when he would hover over you, caging you in with his tall, burly figure and repeating the words “be mine” over and over again like a mantra.

He caught a look in your eyes at his words, similar to the one he saw when he first met you. It was clouded with confusion and want but it was there. Price knew. It was so obvious he wondered how no one else had seen it. But he knew, one look into your pretty eyes and he knew you needed taking care of. And the retired vet was more than happy to fill that role in your life.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Another sweet sweet price thot

Okay but let’s talk about Mountain man Price. He retired a few years ago and decided he much prefers the solitude of the beautiful mountains, with the tips of them all covered in snow. He likes the quiet, knowing he won’t run into anyone here. No one from the little town at the bottom of the mountains would be brave enough to hike the mountain trail.

He remembers the day he built his nice log cabin with the help of his trusty lieutenant of course. Simon helped his Captain one last time, before parting ways. Price wanted to be alone, after everything he’d experienced in the military, he wanted it to be just himself and the weather to keep him company.

He’d have the survival skills no doubt about it, but the more time he spent up there the more his social skills began to fade away. He’d have to come down every six months or so to restock his food, he make his trip down the hike trail to the little town at the bottom of the mountains and through the woods.

But the shop workers weren’t his biggest fans. He’d practically clear them out of their stock, the poor little local shop. They didn’t like his attitude either, found him strange and unapproachable. Though that’s exactly what John was going for. The less people that spoke to him, the better.

Until he met you of course.

It was only your second week at your new job, you’d just moved to the little town around a month ago and this was the only job available after some woman called Darlene went of maternity leave.

My gosh the way you’d be so nice to him having no idea the stigma that surrounded him and how suprised he’d be at the kindness you showed him. He’d actually look forward to coming down to the town.

He’d come more often as well, saying he’d ran out of supplies and yet he’d only buy a bag of fruit or some meat. Then he’d start to tidy up his appearance too, trim his over grown beard and moustache back to its former glory. The blush that would spread across your cheeks the first time you see him like that.

Hair trimmed too, you’d be able to see his perfect lips and crooked smile. It provoked a feeling in you that you’d long forgotten. Slowly but surely he’d start trying to flirt. Trying. Though you found it endearing how bad he was at it. Finally though he’d succeeded asking you out on a date and fuck the moment he’d turn up in his dark blue jeans, black shirt and dark brown leather jacket and boots. You swooned.

He had the charm turned on, especially after his phone call with his ex team. They could all hear how nervous their former captain was for this date. It made them very intrigued to meet you one day.

John didn’t miss a beat, almost as if he’d laid this date out like a mission. Going step by step to win your heart. He made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt, made you smile until your cheeks ached. Ordered the food and drinks impressively, no umming or stuttering.

He gave you butterflies when he reached over the table to grab your hand in his larger one. The skin was rough and calloused, but it felt amazing against your hand. He loved how soft your skin felt against his. He traced around the palm of your hand with his thick index finger, those gorgeous ocean eyes gazing into your soul.

After dinner, John took you to a local bar that you were pleasantly surprised with. A few drinks later you tipsily confessed how handsome you thought he was. The longer the evening went on, the more longing looks and teasing touches were shared.

The evening ended with the two of you slow dancing until last call. The way your bodies pressed together, the intimacy and warmth. The way he’d always make eye contact, almost as if he was trying to read you. The way he held you so tender yet tight, his large hands on your body. It all just felt so right.

John walked you home, looking so sad when it was time to part ways. “Please, let’s do this again sweetheart.” When your manager Billy had called you that, it made you feel sick. Had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, disgust shivering down your body. But when John said it, damn. Your body shivered in delight, the deep mumble entangled with that delicious accent of his made you gulp back a lump in your throat. You swear your underwear was a little wet too.

You nodded leaning forward to kiss his cheek goodnight, John was quick to take your cheeks into his hands and press his wanting lips against yours. He was hungry and almost vicious when he kissed you, it made you wonder what kind of lover he was like as he pressed you against your front door and kissed you like he’d never get the chance again.

[cherryblossomdelusion]

THIS IS SO FUDGING ADORABLE🥺🥹🩷

Price, price and more price🌸🩵

Imagine being John’s pen pal. It’s starts off so innocent, strangers, with you intent on staying that way after a recent nasty break up with a rather nasty man.

You just wanted something to take your mind off of everything while you wallowed away in self pity. Your work had sent you home for a month, said you needed time to heal and get your mind right.

So here you were with nothing to do when one of your friends suggested being a pen pal. And who of all people were to take up your request but John Price.

A simple, name, favourite colour and asking how his day was going was all you wrote. He replied with exactly what you’d asked word for word. Very straightforward and almost strategic and of course asked you the same things.

Then it was age, favourite food and how tall he was. A little description of his face. And again he replied with exactly that. You knew then that you’d have to work hard to get more out of him.

The weeks went by and slowly but surely, John began to become looser. Open up more. Genuinely talk to you. It helped not only you start to heal but also help John heal. He didn’t even know he needed to heal in any way. Maybe the loneliness, the fighting, the pain, the emotionlessness had finally caught up to him.

Work decided you still weren’t ready which was quite honestly bullshit, that’s what you told John anyway. He completely agreed and asked for your manager’s name and social security number. You thought it was a joke, he wholeheartedly wanted to teach the man a lesson.

This week you decide to paint the spare bedroom in your apartment and you told John all about it. You felt almost giddy as you sent letters back and forth deciding paint colours. He loved the domesticity of it all, felt like his little woman was asking what colour to paint a shared home while she waited for him to return. What he wouldn’t give….

He loved the little things like that. Loved when you’d tell him about what you were getting from the grocery store and he’d suggest something he thinks is good. Loved when you’d tell him about a new outfit you bought. He’d tell you how much he’d love to see it and how he bets you look beautiful.

You feel ecstatically nervous when he asked for your phone number. You obviously gave it to him. Impatiently you waited, staring at your phone for it to ring. When it did you jump up, palms sweaty, lump in your throat, heart beating so loud you could heard it in your head…then you pressed answer.

“Hi love.”

“Hi John.”

[cherryblossomdelusion]

Bodyguard Price x new celebrity reader

Price coming home from a mission in the middle of the night

Price waking you up in the morning for breakfast with the boys

Best friend’s older brother Price

Price inserting himself into your life