loveergirll

[loveergirll]

You with your 141/CoD man: 🙂

[loveergirll]

Dad!Ghost, but his two girls are so picky with everything they eat. It's a struggle for the both of you to convince them to eat their vegetables - the only success you've had is cooking broccoli and cauliflower until it's fall-apart tender, and slathering it in butter. Maybe you can sneak a few cooked, blended vegetables into their spaghetti sauce, but they're Simon's girls - they know when something's up. They try to bargain and make ultimatums with him at the dinner table, but he doesn't budge an inch, of course. Says something like "eat your vegetables or no Tangled for a month", which makes them reconsider.

Of course, your youngest son will eat anything - no qualms whatsoever. He was barely started on solids and he'd eat bites of steamed eggplant and peas like they were popcorn. Of course he has his favorites; he had a meltdown once, when Simon turned away from the dinner table to pick up the fork your son dropped, only to lift his head and find the little bugger had grabbed the rest of a medium-rare steak off of his dad's plate, attempting to eat it like a true caveman (the apple really didn't fall far from the tree). Didn't let it go or stop crying until Simon put a yogurt pop in his tiny hand.

("Mummy doesn't need to know about this, 'kay?")

[loveergirll]

John who fucks you raw for the first time.

You've been dating for a year now, and you always tried to be safe. But now, he came home earlier from a mission, and you didn't have the time to buy the condoms.

But how you can say no to him, when he begs you to let him fuck you. He says how much he missed you and your pussy. So, you agree that you will give him a pussy job and he can push the tip inside.

John thinks that he never felt anything better than your pussy raw on his dick. Everything feels so intense, and he can't control himself. With few hard thrusts he is completely inside you and he can't hear your whimpers when you remind him that he is only allowed just the tip.

Now he has you under him and he promises that he will pull out, but he slowly starts to realize that it won't be possible. He thinks about you full with his child, with your breast getting bigger and his load spilling out of your pussy. How lovely would you look with his fat baby on your hip while being pregnant with another one.

He never thought he had a breeding kink but once he tried your pussy without a condom everything changes.

He pins you down to the mattress pushing his dick deep inside your pussy and when he feels you reaching your orgasm and squeezing his cock he spills his seed inside of you. With few more thrust he fucks the cum deeper inside of you.

And when you moan his name so overwhelmed and sensitive, he knows that he needs to make sure that it sticks. It doesn't take long and he is spilling another load into you.

And than another one in the shower while he has you pressed against the glass. And another one on the couch when he makes you ride him, while he smokes his favorite kind of cigars.

When the next day you come home with a pack of condoms, he quickly hides them away from you when you're not looking. He needs to make sure that soon enough you will be fat with his baby.

Masterlist

[loveergirll]

[loveergirll]

So like, i've been sick for the past week or so so i've had a lot of time to think abt stuff and i cant stop thinking abt ur sugar daddy price series so..

Im like obsessed with the idea of maybe a sleepy reader or someone whos always tired (and cold if thats a bonus) so sometimes reader will just like sleep on top of price when hes in the middle of something (totes not self projecting here). How would he feel about it? : D

also do you do anons? if so can i be 🦈 or 🐬 whichever one is free : ]

yesss ofc you can be my lil dolphin anon from now on <33

you don’t even have to say a word, really, the moment daddy price sees you rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, carrying a fluffy blanket with you, he knows you’re gonna plop on top of him, ready to sleep.

especially during winter, you’re always so sleepy and cold, and he’s just so big and warm, like a big brown bear :) you sit on his lap, snuggling your cheek against his hard muscles that radiate a natural warmth, curling yourself against him — he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close and distractedly caressing your hip.

“sleepy, sweet thing?” he keeps his eyes focused on the task at hand, maybe writing some paperwork, checking new folders and files that laswell has given him, or registering cash money from the bar.

you nod against his chest, a soft ‘mmmhh’ muffled by his shirt. your body visibly relaxes against him as his warmth cradles you, making you feel fuzzy and comfortable. “m cold, you’re so warm, sir”

he coos down at you, rubbing his large hand around and against your back, soothing your already drowsy self, “oh sweetheart, can’t have my bunny be cold, love”

you stay there, his buff chest and burly arms enveloping you in a bubble of coziness, he’s more than happy to help his bunny girl sleep and stay warm. he knows many other ways to keep you warm, too

[loveergirll]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ random domestic scenes with old man sugar daddy!john price ⋆˚✿˖°

he snores. gosh you can’t stand it. at night, during your nighttime prayer, you hope to fall asleep before him so you won’t hear him snoring — but it rarely happens. in the middle of the night, you toss over and over on the side of the bed, until you let out a heavy sigh and practically shake his heavy, muscular and bulk body with your hand, “daddy. daddy. stop snoring, please, I can’t sleep.”

and when the sound gets too loud, you stand up silently, taking one of your plushies with you and go sleep on the couch.

if price wakes up and doesn’t find your tiny, young body next to his, he mutters something with his groggy, deep grouchy voice and comes straight to the living room, finding you curled up with a stuffie and a peaceful look on your face — but he can’t allow his pretty, little princess to sleep alone and leave her old, grumpy daddy alone in bed :( so he picks you up effortlessly with only one arm and carries you back to the bed, making sure he doesn’t wake you up so you won’t hear him snore again.

[loveergirll]

no one respects the art of cock-warming quite like Price.

18+ | cock warming. exhibitionism.

he loves having his lil sub (whether you want to be or not) kneeling at his feet, his cock stuffed down your throat while he works, alternating between holding a cigar in his hand or a pen. the other on the back of your head, keeping you still. cradled his lap where you belong.

and he'd spend ages training you up for it, too.

starts by makingyou sit in his lap, letting you mewl and whine and pant in his ear about the stretch, the need. wanting him to just fuck you already and get it over with. but he's patient. let's you acclimate slowly until all he has to do is pat his thigh and you're already shoving your panties to the side, sliding down his thick girth as he turns on some movie you'd been chirping about wanting to see. squirming around for a moment until you find your spot before melting into his chest, breathing around the stretch. because at some point, having him inside of you, stuffing you full—cock, mouth, ass—comes as naturally as breathing, anyway.

but if you think this is a private endeavor only, well. you'd be wrong.

it starts small. his fingers inside of you when you're out at a restaurant with Laswell and her wife (who seems to sharing your expression; Kate's hand disappearing below the table), just sitting. teasing. he's not trying to get you off. it's just training. new horizons, love, he says, and it's just so easy to get swept up into the maelstrom of his desire, isn't it?

a movie after. it's boring. you hate it. so, he unzips his trousers and offers himself to you instead. let's you thumb through your feed (phone on silent, brightness down to zero) in the back of the theatre as you lounge across the chairs in the empty room, his cock down your throat.

an opera. sitting on his lap with him inside of you, dress covering the indecent act as he shoves your panties to the side (only worn in case he finishes—can't have his cum dripping down your thigh when you go out to eat, can you?) and sinks in deep with a little groan muffled into your neck.

soon, he'll refuse to let you sit anywhere that isn't his lap. on his cock. you almost get caught a few times (and maybe you do) but John's influence is all-consuming and no one bats an eye when he starts to bounce you on his lap in an empty restaurant, hand curled over your mouth to keep any noise that spills out just for him. only for him.

if you think falling asleep without him inside of you is an option, then you should have thought about that before moving in because after he fucks you, he'll cradle you close, ignoring any protests about cleaning up. feigns sleep until you huff, giving in.

(you sleep better when he's inside of you, anyway.)

he's just utterly insatiable—and smitten, really—and it doesn't even feel much like training or conditioning when (he rings the dinner bell and) your mouth starts to water as he sits down, thighs spread wide enough for you slip between. nursing his cock the same way he carts his fingers across your nape, cradling the whiskey in his hand. staring down at you with a deep, ravenous hunger as you sigh around the thick of him, and rest your head on his lap.

(a bell echoes in your ear, but it's easy to ignore it because he was right, after all. this is where you belong.)

[loveergirll]

Cw: cults, tiktok, and Elon musk (🤢)

Ok I just wanna share this here to make sure I’m not crazy.

Also DISCLAIMER. This is just my opinion, you’re free to do what you want. My friend just got me riled up, sorry!

So for reference, I deleted TikTok September of last year, along with Instagram and Reddit. What I’ve noticed is people, especially my best friend, getting mad at me for not understanding their references. And just overtime it getting more aggressive…

And sorry this might be a trigger for some or upset people but TikTok is like a fucking cult. Everyone doing weird dances and reciting shit that makes no sense. Especially since it came back I’ve heard a lot of things about how it’s almost all basically trump propaganda?? (Idk if that’s true again I haven’t had it since September).

Like my friend just told me I have to get TikTok back because it’s annoying that I don’t understand her references. Even though she knows that I haven’t had it since September, she acting like so offended when I said no. Girl is now ignoring me in passive aggressive silence like…it’s not that deep.

Anyways call me a crazy asshole but this is the best form of social media bc Twitter or X or whatever it’s called is run by musky Elon (he stinks) and TikTok is now in trumps control since it’s in the US.

Someone explain to me wtf is happening

[loveergirll]

You guys ever feel like you're having a fling with some franchise? Or exes trope for that matter. Like you used to be fully engaged in the fandom before they no longer your hyperfixation but when you coincidentally came across the posts about it and hit nostalgia lane, you then stop by for a second to relish the remnants and memories. You started to engaged with it back before bouncing again.

[loveergirll]

joel and price

i need them both ♡

[loveergirll]

Thinking of Kyle stealing John’s boonie and purposefully doing the most inaccurate impression (bordering on offensive) of the Captain’s voice in front of Johnny and Simon.

He thinks they’re laughing because of him, until he feels a presence linger next to his back.

John stole his blue cap, unable to repress the smug look on his face.

“Wanna’ translate that from bullshit to English?”

[loveergirll]

FARAH’S OLD MAN PAT | CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE III

[loveergirll]

no thoughts...just simon discovering you sitting on the grimy curb outside a club and pretending to be your boyfriend bc of unsavory men being nasty towards you. (tw: men)

-

A chill lingered in the air as you sank down onto the curb, the cold concrete pressing against your thighs while your short dress bunched up around your thighs.

It wasn’t the wisest choice, considering you were just inches away from the road, but your aching feet and pounding head begged for a break.

And not only did you feel a mess, but you also looked it too.

Your eyes were bloodshot, and your eyelids heavy and sticky, weighed down by smudged eyeliner, mascara, and whatever glittery eyeshadow you had tossed on in a rush.

What had once been a carefully styled updo was now a tangled mess, with strands of hair falling haphazardly around your face.

You couldn’t be bothered to put it back up; even the thought of managing it made your head spin more than it already did.

Your friends were off somewhere, probably with people you didn’t know, and honestly, you didn’t care anymore.

You just needed to escape that stuffy club.

The lights were flashing so intensely and rapidly that it felt like you might faint.

Now, here you are, sitting on the grimy curb, your mind racing with anxiety.

You had hoped the alcohol would dull your worries, but all it did was amplify them.

Stressing about the rent that you can’t afford this month.

The difficulty of finding and keeping a decent boyfriend.

And let’s not forget about your terrible job that pays next to nothing!

On top of it all, your mother won’t stop calling and complaining about her new boyfriend, who you can’t stand.

“What a pretty girl you are,” a low voice calls out from behind.

His words feel distant, like an echo floating in your mind.

You turn your head slightly to catch a glimpse of the guy, vape in hand and hoodie pulled up, flanked by two friends grinning widely.

You roll your eyes, turning your head away, choosing not to engage with him or offer any response.

"Hey! I’m talking to you," the same voice calls out, its tone growing more assertive.

You turn your head again; this time, he’s closer than before. "Will you just fuck off?" You groan, your eyes barely hanging open.

"The fuck did you say to me.”

Okay.

Now he is mad.

And usually, you could take care of feeble men.

They touch you; they get a knee straight to their balls.

But, right now, you can’t even walk straight.

Let alone balance and swing your leg.

“Sorry—I,” you sputter, carefully standing and almost falling as he draws nearer.

“Think you can talk to me like that?” He snarls as he moves to stand right in front of you.

You look up at him.

His eyes are dark.

You feel your stomach churn.

"Sweetheart," you hear the deep British, gravelly voice before the man who carries it steps beside you. "Been lookin' for you.”

Your eyes dart to him in an instant.

He’s tall, like really, really tall.

Quite built, and looks intimidating as hell with an ominous mask covering his face.

And…fuck, he’s decked out in black and gray military gear.

You feel an odd sense of security, so you thread your arm through his and tuck yourself into his side.

“You yellin’ at my girlfriend?” His voice is so deep, and raspy.

The guy’s eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sound and sight of the man at your side.

“No, no,” the guy scramble. “I—I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend. I would have never—”

“Shouldn’t do it anyway, you pisshead,” the man next to you spat before turning to face you, voice softening. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m—I’m alright,” your murmur, voice uneven.

The man next to you turns his head to face the guy, his eyes darkening at the sight of you upset. “Get on your knees and apologize to her.”

“Wait, wha—”

“I’ll bash your head in.”

The guy fell to his knees, desperately searching for the right words. “I’m sorry. Fuck—I’m really, really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that; I fucked up. I’m so, so sorry,” he word vomits, voice trembling.

"Thank you," you whisper, your eyes widening in surprise at how readily he complies.

Your gaze drifts down to catch sight of a small friendship bracelet adorning the wrist of the man beside you.

It looked so out of place on him.

The bracelet features a black-and-white pattern of beads, with "Simon" spelled out in gray letters at its center and two skull beads surrounding it.

"Simon," you murmur, simply glancing at the letters without much thought.

His head swivels to you.

“Yeah, baby?” He quickly responds, eyes on you in an instant.

"We should—we should get going," you manage to say, feeling another flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

He nods, his hand lingering near your waist. You shift slightly, allowing your hand to slip into his, where you intertwine your fingers effortlessly.

Simon leans in closer, lowering his head to hover near the guy's ear, and whispers so you can barely catch what he’s saying.

“If you ever yell at my girlfriend, let alone another woman again,” Simon’s voice goes down an octave, low and stern. “I’ll find you and crack every fuckin’ bone in your body.”

The guy's face drains of color as he frantically tries to escape—not just back to his friends, who are just as terrified but well out of reach.

"You’re so…tall," you manage to say, your words coming out a bit slurred.

He lets out a gruff laugh. “Come over here.”

Simon tightly grips your fingers, gently guiding you around the corner and away from the club.

“Shouldn’t be alone,” he utters. “You’re drunk.”

“I know,” you admit, a hint of embarrassment creeping in. “I just needed to get out of that crazy club. It was too bright and too hot and too stuffy!” You let out a dramatic sigh. “I thought the alcohol would help clear my mind, but it only made me more anxious, you know?” You look up at him and shake your head.

“My rent is overdue; I can’t get a stupid boyfriend, and, oh God, my mother,” you continue to ramble; you were drunk, after all. “I’m a mess,” you exhale softly, tears clinging to your lashes.

Had you been crying that whole time?

“Listen,” he urges, hand pressing onto your shoulder. “If you want, you could live with me. Been lookin’ for a roommate. Could be nice,” he adds with a casual shrug.

You sniffle, hand wiping your tears. “You—you would do that for me?” You ask, heart warm from his generosity.

“Eh, sure. Why not?” His tone is relaxed and straightforward.

You’re beaming as you pull him in for a tight hug, burying your face in his abdomen while repeatedly expressing your gratitude.

He doesn’t say anything, but he wears the stupidest grin under that mask.

He wouldn’t tell you, but he was so, so ecstatic at the prospect of you living with him.

He could use a few more friends, and you vowed to ensure he stayed well-fed.

Besides, it certainly didn't hurt that you were a hot little spitfire who had him straining in his cargo pants.

He would hold out for you.

Roommates now, husband and wife later.

-

author’s note: crazy how he’s the only man ever

[loveergirll]

Soap is definitely the kind of guy that spots someone bonnie whilst on leave and becomes obsessed. Somewhere innocuous, they don't even interact, don't even look at him. They don't need to, he's already thinking about which church to book for the wedding. You can bet Soap follows them home. Takes note of any cameras or street lights to avoid. And if he installs some discreet cameras inside his bonnie's flat just before his leave is up, well, no one can blame him, right? Gotta keep an eye on them whilst he's gone. Gotta keep them safe. Gotta keep them his.

[loveergirll]

I’m imagining a couple of younger guys moving into the house next you and your husband, John Price, happens to overhear them wondering why you’re with such an old man while they drink beers in their backyard. Wondering if you’re the kinda military wife who plays around when her husband is deployed.

So he tells you he’s sure they’ve left to go out drinking, and he’ll accidentally leave the windows open so they’re sure to hear you getting fucked mercilessly and often.

[loveergirll]

[loveergirll]

Something something “omega wearing a collar that blocks their neck from being marked For Reasons” vs “alpha who’s in the throws of a rut and biting the fuck out of the collar because they wanna mark the omega so badly”

Is this anything???