#Captain John Price x Reader

[beabfleab]

I need him so badly he’s just so delicious

bulk

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, rugby au, rugby player!price, age gap (20s/40s), size difference/kink, rough sex, doggy style, headlock (slight choking), dirty talk & degrading language, breeding kink, is this ticking off boxes for anyone?

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john price was a big man. almost ten years playing professional rugby for the english team, he had bulked up since his early years on the team.  thick muscle and a nice softness over top. he was strong, able to carry all the groceries inside of your shared flat and also get his hulking frame across the field with ball in hand. he was also hairy, patches of hair across his chest down to his belly, didn't mention all the pubic hair between his legs. it obscured a lot of his tattoos that he had gotten over the years, like your name over his heart and his jersey number at his thigh (you knew you'd get too hot if you thought about his thighs too much).  you once told him, with your tongue loose with alcohol that it was the ideal male body. that these ‘dehydrated poor excuses of men’ needed to drink water and eat some carbs. 

price was a man's man. you knew the first time you fucked him, that you'd never ever fuck with those limp dicked boys at your university. you got addicted to the feeling of a real man, one who know exactly how to make your eyes roll back and your tongue hang out, panting heavily like a good bitch you were.

post-game price was your favourite shade of john price. you could feel his electricity while in the passenger seat of the car after the match. when he pulled out of the parking lot, he placed his large hand on your thigh. he played with the edge of your skirt and kept his eyes on the road. you could tell that the wheels in his head were turning. 

  “honey?”

  “been thinkin', love.” he said as his fingers edged up your skirt a little more. like he was a teen boy rather than a forty year old man. he was teasing you, knowing that there would be no way you could both fuck in the back of his car. even it was an expensive vehicle, it would be a tight fit for such a large man and his smaller wife. 

you looked at him and said, “never a good thing for a man to think.” you giggled then yelped when he gripped your thigh suddenly. 

he chuckled a little as he continued to drive, “thinkin' about makin' a baby.” he licked his top lip, “i ain't gettin' any younger, love. and you're almost done school, so i think it's high time we start makin' a family.” his words were honey in your brain. it made you squirm. your much bigger, much older husband was asking for you to make a baby with him. 

  “someone's got baby fever.” you giggled as you placed your hand over his. the air of the car grew warmer, which made price open the window a little.  you squeaked a little bit when he gripped you harder. you felt your heart rate pick up at the feeling of his large hands on you.

he chuckled a little, as he looked at you briefly while at a stop light. he leaned in to kiss you, “of course. part of me's been thinkin' about you walking across the stage at your graduation with my little brat in your belly.” then looked back to start driving again. 

you rubbed your thighs together and felt wet at your core. you couldn't deny your husband, plus you had been subject to baby fever as well. maybe it was your body screaming for your lover. to have a part of him in you. and it wasn't like you two were being the most safe, so accidents could've happened. once back at your flat, you weren't in your clothes for long. 

price had practically ripped your skirt off of you and those large paws he called hands were groping at your plush ass with his lips on your neck.  you could feel his hard cock inside of his white briefs. the pre cum leaked through the fabric as he humped against you. he said in a heated tone, “i need it. i need her.” while made you moan then try to get your bra and panties off. you felt the heat rising in your skin, it was painfully hot for you. it excited you in ways that left you feeling hot all over. 

  “how badly, honey?”

he pulled you right up against him, his clothed cock digging into your abdomen, “more than anythin'. i need ‘er.  i need ’er stuff full. want it to smell like me for months. and if it doesn't, i'll just fill 'er up again.” he slapped your ass and watched you moan with your back arched. he groped the cheek one last time before he took his naked wife to the bedroom. 

his clothes were tossed to the side too, the t-shirt from the rugby league and basketball shorts. once everything was off, you admired your lover for a long moment. seeing all the heft and hair on him. his body that was so strong that he could easily crush you in his bicep or between his thighs. it made your core throb as you got into bed. 

  “nah, nah.” price said as he got onto the bed and grabbed your hips, “i need a deeper angle, somethin' to really show her i love you.” then patted your pussy before he gripped onto your hips once more and turned you onto your stomach. he then angled your hips up then dragged a finger across your achy slit. he chuckled, “there she is.” then leaned in to give your slick cunt a little blow, watching your hole flutter.

  “mmm please, honey.” you arched your back as you felt your husband so close to you. your hulking husband who only hours earlier was running across the field, fighting his way through the other team. his strong legs carried him and you were sitting in the stands with your thighs pressed together with need. 

price replied, “i know, i know. i know you need me” he rubbed his achy cock up against your slit, “always so good for me. knew for the moment i met ya that i wanted ya for the rest of my days.” there was an age gap between you two, but in all fairness, it turned you on even more. knowing that this handsome older man wanted to make sure that his cock was buried in you. 

when he pressed into you, your back arched. you gasped heavily into the covers as he lifted your hips further to get a better angle to sink into you. he laid over top of you, his fuzzy body up against your back. he pressed his weight onto you and kept that heavy cock of his snug inside of you. you groaned loudly, muffled by the pillows under your head. 

  “honey.” you whined as you felt the ache of his cock so deep in you. 

he got one of his hefty arms around your throat, keeping you further pinned against the bed. it wasn't hard enough to choke the lights out of ou. but enough to have pressure that made your head swim. it all felt so good and just just started. your voice was strained when price started to rut against you. his pace wasn't fast like a young stallion, but they were hard. every thrust of his hips were lazily slow but hit the back of your pussy perfectly. his cock had a thickness to it, you had carried rolls of ground beef that weighed less than his cock. not to mention the forest of pubic hair anf his breeder balls. he was a perfect man, body and all. he  took you so well. 

  “she likes me.” he said, “your pretty cunt. i bet you were thinkin' about me on the field. all dirty and roughed up, yeah. bet you wished i fucked ya right in the locker room. let the boys hear how i make my girl feel. bruise that poor pussy of yours.” he said, words hot in your heat. it made sweat settle over you.

you whimpered a little against the covers, “please, john. ah!”

he continued to fuck you, his pace was aggressive and it made you see stars. his arm was still around your throat and you could feel your pulse in your jaw. he left messy kisses on your face, leaving your cheek wet. you whimpered and clenched around his cock which only made him fuck you harder. you were such a good little wife for him. being so good to your man while he wrecked your sweet little hole. 

  "honey! please! you whimpered as you arched your back, but didn't get far due to the impressive size of your lover. you felt pinned under him, his strength. you gasped out another noise as the blunt head of his cock kept bullying your sweet insides. letting it make a huge mess of you, his cock was soaked in your wetness. it dripped down his hairy balls. he loved making his girl feel good. 

he continued to kiss your face, not quite getting your lips. his facial hair brushed against your heated skin and made you over sensitive. his mouth kept running as he kept moving. he felt hot all over, like a heat in his gut as he battered your sweet insides, “my perfect woman.  know how to take me so well. meant to take me. givin' me the privilege to make you a mama. ya like that? showin' up to uni with a little extra next semester. my dutiful little wife. keepin' up her studies while she nursing my babe.” he chuckled as he continued to keep that pussy of yours nice and filled. 

you gasped and moaned into the covers. you could be as loud as you wanted, you were in the safety of your bedroom as price rutted against you. your body was sweaty and your head was swimming. it was so painfully erotic, you felt hot all over. your heart thumped in your chest with a heavy beat as price kept moving against you. 

  “you're lucky you have the ring already. if your classmates saw you with a nice round middle, they might have gotten the wrong idea about you. that you're a dirty slag who can't keep her legs closed.” he chuckled as he licked down the sweat on the side of your neck, “dirty bird. but it's alright, we're married. you're my wife. mrs. jonathan price. about time you got a little one in your belly.” he pressed further into you and it made your head spin. his cock felt like it was pressing into your stomach. 

  “i love you.” you panted.

he finally kissed your lips, or at least the corner as he tightened his hold around your throat, “i love ya too, sweet thing. lettin' my cock bully your sweet insides. made for me, all of me. don't worry, be keepin' that womb warm for a long time. hope ya like 'em big, price boys can be a handful.” he laughed as he kissed the back of your neck. 

he was fully crowded in your space as he worked your sweet pussy. you barely had time to think before you felt the flash of orgasm through your body. it was like being engulfed in a quick heat while your body tensed up and your mind went blank. your pussy drooling on his cock, beckoning him to finish inside of you. 

a good husband always finishes in his wife. 

with a few more heavy thrusts against your limp body price finished inside of you. he pushed his cock all the way inside of you and made sure that your hips were at an angle that made it easier for you to get pregnant. he clutched onto you as he slowed down to a stop. your eyes rolled back a little as he pulled out. the loss of pressure made you whine. you weren't able to form any proper thoughts, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as your husband rolled you onto your back and kissed you deeply on the lips. 

no need to think, mrs. price. let your rugby playing husband do all the decision making. <3

[yeyinde]

i would give you my life for marriage counselor!reader x price part 3, pleaseeee im begging you 😮‍💨🙏😮‍💨🙏

He fucks you in your office, for sure.

18+. extremely dubious consent. unk. condescending Dom!Price.

Petty, combative. Authority figures make him itch. But there's a sick thrill that goes through him when he sinks down into your chair, fully dressed with just his trousers undone, cock freed, and pulls you, completely naked, onto his lap. Makes you ride him as he sprawls out over it, too; his hand tight around your neck to keep you up, the other dangling over the edge, drinking from the sneaky stash of booze he finds after rummaging around your desk (all the while, he had you sitting on top of it, one hand rifling through your belongings and the other buried between your thighs, making you answer his inane questions as he tuts about how you're getting his cuffs all wet, not such a smart little girl now are you? soakin' his hand like that. needy little thing, more like.)

It's not his preferred position, but he likes the sight of you glaring down at him as he fills you with his cock. Unable to to do anything at all even when you're on top, in the dominant role. Reduced to a mess of a once smart, haughty girl. Biting your lip as he bucks into you. Trying to smother the scream, the plea—slow down, slow down, please, it's too deep—that trembles on your lip. Pride and this fickle, paperthin ideal of agency is the only thing keeping it all in.

You think you can take him. Handle him.

So, John gives you the reigns and leans back on your smart little chair in your smart little office. Accolades hung on the wall. Polished and mature. It's all so—

Adorable.

The contrast of it all feeds the monster in his chest that's been prowling around ever since you tried to boss him around. The mouth that once said you're not trying hard enough, Mr Price you need to do better now all slack-jawed and drool slick as he spears inside to the deepest part of you he can reach; the doleful glare swallowed by the shiver of your lids as your eyes roll back into your pretty little head.

Struggling to take him. Hesitating to slide down the thickest part of his cock, whimpering when he shifts his hips and makes you take him down to the root. Tears flood your lashline, gleaming iridescent like sunshine hitting an oil spill. Lips trembling as you jolt at the realness of it all—of trying to handle him like you said you could but quickly realising you can't when the heart of yourself starts to feel like a raw, open wound.

Yeah, he thinks, and brings the bottle to his lips. You look so much better just like this.

And that's what it's about, really. Control. Something you stripped him of when he marched into your office and you—younger, less experienced, less established—just looked at him, and said, sit down right there, Mr Price.

Well. You didn't say it, did you? No, you commanded. And Price doesn't take orders from idiots in office who think they're his superior, so why the hell should he listen to you, mm?

But he did. And now he's savouring it because this is quid pro quo. Something for something. His compliance (ephemeral as it was) for you.

Because the problem is that you riled him up. With your neat, clean office. Your smart suits. The unbidden air of authority—this condescending, sophisticated cloud that clung to the haughty tip of your chin when you talked to him. It all itched under his skin. Made his heart thunder with the urge to break—

(Claim, maim—sometimes he gets the two mixed up, the word eliding together under the malformed snarl in his throat. But you're tough, aren't you? He's sure you can handle whichever one ends up spilling out.)

He bites down on the little sliver of skin beneath your jaw—that small patch where his hand, still spread over the thick of your throat, doesn't cover—and groans, feeling you clench tight around him. Tight little hole barely stretched enough to take him without it aching each time he moves, tugging on thin, sensitive skin until he has to snuff the whimpers he can feel crawling up your throat with a squeeze of his hand.

It has the after making his head swim already. When he finally finished getting his due, breaking you in, he'll take you home. Let you rest. Court you good and proper until you're melting his hands, softened wax for him to play with and mould however he likes. And he will.

He saw the potential in you the moment he leaned in close—too close, his ex-wife will accuse him of later; you never get that close to me anymore, John—and saw the shift of your throat when you swallowed. The flex of your thighs as you squeezed them tight together. The little flutter of your lashes, eyes listing treacherously downward, so achingly close to submission that it punched the air from his lungs. Kept him winded even as you pulled yourself back together. Meeting his stare with a glare of your own. All fire, all teeth. But he'll enjoy filing your canines down until they're pretty and soft and round—

"mm, not so arrogant now, are you?" He pulls you closer, nips at the thrill of your pulse until he feels it thudding against his enamel. Rabbit-quick. Ferocious lioness purring at his feet. "S'all you needed was my cock, mm, to make you this sweet?"

He doesn't expect an answer, and can really only groan when you eke out a liquid, breathless, fuck you, John, content to let you lash out as much as you want, holding you tighter in the cup of his palm. Pussy clenching tight, tears dripping down your cheeks—he basks in it even as you claw at him, pawing at his chest with your teeth bared as you pretend this is your choice. That you're taking from him with each unsteady, furious roll of your hips. Pulling him in deeper. Letting the part inside of you that rages against this hew fantasy into reality; cobwebs of delusion thickening in the whites of your eyes as you shatter over him, on his lap, stuffed full with the thick of his cock, and play pretend in your head that he's just your throne—

Even as he kicks his heels against the legs of your own, planting his feet on your carpet, in this space you build yourself, driving inside of you until the webs shake, starting to come loose.

You—this free, willful bird—have been left in the wild for too long. And he'll spend the next two months building your cage, and when he's finally finished, you'll beg him to throw away the key.

"Told you, didn't I?" he growls, hand tightening around your throat. "You were in over your head, little girl. You should have listened."

(Freshly divorced—ink still wet on the paper—and he's already engaged. How about that.)

[ghouljams]

Ceo!Price and his protege Gaz who you, much to Price's chagrin, vastly prefer the company of. Mostly because he actually lets you get your work done and doesn't submit bloated expense reports in the vain hope that you'll go confront him about it and not just submit the reports to accounting and let them yell at him.

Gaz is nice. Gaz is charming. Gaz doesn't stare at your tits even when you're wearing a turtleneck, and he certainly doesn't treat you like you're only around for eye candy. Gaz thanks you for the hard work you do and you're not afraid to tell your boss that with a huff when he grumbles for the thousandth time about how he'd rather have "something else" for lunch.

Mr. Price does not care for that snide remark. He does, in fact, threaten to put you over his knee if you'd like "something to complain about."

You take your complaint straight to HR for the billionth time. They don't even let you in the door.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Safe Harbor

Pairing: John “Bravo-6” Price x reader

Warnings: fluffy has angst due to hard day at work and our boy is here to comfort his lovey

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, I just realized how much I was slacking with our beloved Captain-

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The keys jingled faintly in your hand as you unlocked the front door, the weight of the day clinging to you like an unwelcome shadow. Every step from the driveway to the house had felt like wading through mud, each breath harder to draw than the last. By the time you stepped inside, the cozy warmth of your shared home wrapped around you like a much-needed hug.

The house smelled of something savory and comforting. It wasn’t the sharp, artificial tang of takeout. No, this was something homemade, and the realization made the knot in your chest loosen ever so slightly. John. Of course, he’d cooked.

You dropped your bag onto the entryway bench with a soft thud, slipping off your shoes and letting your socks sink into the soft rug beneath your feet. The familiar creak of the wooden floor under your weight was oddly soothing.

"Love?" John's voice carried from the kitchen, deep and steady, with that telltale edge of concern.

"I'm home," you called back, though your voice felt quieter than usual.

John appeared in the doorway a moment later, drying his hands on a dish towel. He looked as he often did after a day off—relaxed but ever-ready, his jeans comfortably worn, his gray sweater slightly loose around his broad shoulders. His sharp blue eyes scanned your face, softening as they took you in.

"You look knackered," he said, stepping closer. "Come here."

Before you could answer, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. The warmth of him, the solid, grounding presence, made you exhale a shuddering breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You let your forehead rest against him, your fingers clutching the soft knit of his sweater.

"Rough one?" he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your ear.

You nodded, too drained to speak.

He pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his calloused fingers gentle as they brushed along your cheek. "Go sit down. Dinner’s almost ready."

"John, you didn’t have to—"

"Shh," he interrupted, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a gesture so tender it nearly unraveled you. "Course I did. Go on. Couch is calling your name."

You let him steer you toward the living room, where a soft blanket was draped across the arm of the couch, and the faint flicker of a candle added to the cozy atmosphere. You sank into the cushions, the tension in your muscles easing slightly as you closed your eyes.

You must have drifted for a moment because the next thing you knew, John was kneeling in front of you, holding a plate of steaming shepherd's pie. The buttery mashed potatoes and savory meat filling looked like a dream after the day you’d had.

"Eat," he said simply, handing you the plate along with a fork.

You took it with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Always," he replied, sitting beside you with his own plate.

The first bite melted in your mouth, the flavors so rich and comforting that it almost brought tears to your eyes. John had always been a surprisingly good cook, though you suspected it was more from sheer determination than natural talent. Early in your relationship, he’d confessed that his time in the military hadn’t exactly afforded him the luxury of learning. But once he realized how much you appreciated a home-cooked meal, he’d thrown himself into it with the same focus he applied to everything else.

"I don’t know how you do it," you said between bites, your voice still tinged with exhaustion.

"Do what?"

"This," you said, gesturing to your plate. "Taking care of me. Knowing exactly what I need."

He shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. "You make it easy."

You shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. "I don’t think I do."

"Well, you’re wrong," he replied matter-of-factly.

The comfortable silence stretched between you as you ate, the weight of the day beginning to lift. Every now and then, John would glance over at you, as if to make sure you were really okay.

After dinner, John insisted on cleaning up despite your half-hearted protests. You watched him from the couch, the sight of him in the kitchen oddly soothing. There was something about the way he moved—efficient, steady, completely in control—that made you feel like everything was going to be alright.

When he returned, he carried two mugs of tea, setting one in front of you before sitting down and pulling you into his side. You curled into him, letting your head rest against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear was more comforting than anything you could imagine.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your arm.

You hesitated, unsure of where to start. The stress of the day had been overwhelming, but putting it into words felt impossible.

"I don’t know," you admitted softly.

"That bad, huh?"

"Just... a lot," you said finally. "Work’s been non-stop. Everything feels like it’s piling up, and I can’t keep up. I just—" You broke off, your voice catching.

John pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his beard tickling your skin. "You’re doing more than enough, love. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise."

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around your frayed nerves.

"Do you ever feel like that?" you asked quietly. "Like it’s all just... too much?"

John was silent for a moment, his hand stilling on your arm. "More times than I care to admit," he said finally. "But you learn to carry it. Or to share the load when you’ve got someone you trust."

You tilted your head to look up at him, his expression thoughtful but calm. "You mean you," you said with a small smile. "Carrying my load for me."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "That’s what I’m here for."

The evening passed in a haze of quiet comfort. The two of you stayed curled up on the couch, the world outside fading into the background. John told you a story from his early days in the military, a rare glimpse into a part of his life he didn’t often share.

By the time the clock ticked closer to midnight, you were barely keeping your eyes open. John noticed immediately, pulling the blanket tighter around you and pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"Bed," he said firmly, standing and scooping you up before you could protest.

"John," you mumbled, your arms looping around his neck. "I can walk."

"Don’t need to," he replied, carrying you up the stairs with ease.

He set you down gently on the bed, pulling the covers over you before climbing in beside you. You turned to face him, your hand resting lightly on his chest.

"Thank you," you whispered.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You don’t need to thank me, love. Just get some rest. I’ve got you."

As you drifted off to sleep, the last thing you heard was the steady rhythm of his breathing, a quiet promise that no matter how heavy the day, you’d always have him to come home to.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part 4

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings for series: Angst, violence towards reader, reader attacked by men, a pup gets hurt (but don't worry he's ok) Blood, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions, Father of reader's death mentioned.

Authors note: Price is mean in this one so apologies in advance. Also soft Konig is my favorite.

MASTERLIST

Y/N woke up the next morning, her head pounding. She barely slept because she kept wanting to go to Price’s room and just explain herself. She wanted to tell him everything. Including how she felt about him. But then she thought about what Simon said and he was right. They couldn’t be sure no one was listening to them. 

After showering and packing up her things Y/N headed downstairs and dropped her bag at the bottom of the stairs. She grabbed Simon’s pack and made her way to the kitchen, slightly limping. When she saw he was the only one up she was relieved. 

“You got any more painkillers in here?” She asked dropping his bag at his side.  

“Your leg hurtin ya?” He asked, rummaging in his bag. 

“Leg, head, heart.” She replied while she made herself a coffee. 

“Well this will help your head and your leg, and as much as I’d like to help your heart I can’t. Yet.”

“It’s ok.” Y/N said, swallowing the pills down. 

She stretched her leg out in front of her and hissed. 

“We should rebandage that, while no one else is around.” he said and grabbed his kit out of his bag. 

“Right here?” Y/N asked, glancing around. 

“No one else is up, it’s just you an me. What are ya worried about anyways? Someone seeing your arse.’”  

Y/N glared at him and stood up, undoing her pants. She had them about half way down when Soap walked into the kitchen. 

“Whoa. Sorra.” He said turning around instantly. 

“Oh for fuck sakes get in here you idiot.” Y/N said and then sat down on the chair in front of Simon. 

Soap walked by them and he glanced over as Simon took off the bandage around the wound. 

“Jesus lass, ye git tha’ last night?” 

“Yeah, that patrol. It’s nothing.” 

Simon was inspecting the wound. He frowned and then pressed the edge of it. 

“What the fuck Si.” Y/N said, gripping her leg above the wound. 

“It’s lookin a little red around the edges. I’m going to give you a shot of penicillin.” 

“Ye git a whole drugstore in there ol man?” Soap grinned

“Been caught out one too many times. Now I’m always prepared.” Simon grunted as he filled the syringe. 

He was just plunging the needle into Y/N’s thigh when Price and Gaz walked in. 

“What the hell happened.” Price asked

He was looking at her with concern and for a moment she thought he might actually still care about her. 

“Happened last night, just a scratch. She’ll be fine.” Simon answered 

Y/N was watching him closely and his face went from concern to anger. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t tell me Sergeant.” 

Y/N felt her heart break. She looked at Simon who gave her leg a small squeeze of encouragement. She straightened her back and looked at Price.

“Apologies Captain, I won't let it happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t.” 

“Cap,” Soap started but Price turned and left the room. 

“Y/N, he’ll come around, just give ‘em time.” Gaz said and Soap gave her an encouraging smile.

“Just hurry up will you. We have a plane to catch.” 

The flight to Germany was quiet. Soaps contact had gotten them a private jet which shocked the team. Gaz kept taking selfies of himself drinking champagne and talking about how one day he’d have a plane like this. Everyone could tell she wanted to be left alone so Y/N sat in the back staring out the window.

It was a short flight, and when they landed there was a blacked out SUV waiting for them. A woman got out and told Simon that Konig was waiting for them at the safe house and gave them the keys. The drive took about an hour and the air was tense. Eventually they arrived at a house in seemingly the middle of nowhere, forest surrounding them. 

Konig was waiting at the front door to greet the team. He was so big he took up the whole door frame and was wearing his signature black mask that covered his entire face except his eyes. As they exited the car Konig spread his arms out and motioned around them. 

“Zis is good, nein?” 

Y/N chuckled as her and Simon made their way over to him. 

“You never disappoint.” She said to him and he winked at her. 

“If only you knew liebling (darling).” 

When she reached him he pulled into a massive bone breaking hug, lifting her off her feet and then placing her back down. 

“Ven are you going to leave zis tiny man for me?” 

“Don’t push it Konig.” Simon grunted beside them. 

“Nein, nein I joke.” He said but then looked over at Y/N and shook his head and whispered. “I don’t joke.” 

“Konig as much as I adore you, I have a team that I’m not willing to leave, Ghost included.” 

“Ja but I can offer you freedom to kill vo you vant. Tempting nein?” 

Y/N laughed and shook her head. 

“Alright you maniac, let’s get you introduced to the team.” 

They walked over to where Soap, Gaz and Price were standing. Y/N motioned at Simon to make the introductions. They all shook his hand and though the team seemed a bit taken back by Konig they were all polite and respectful. When they were done with the introductions Konig clapped his hands together. 

“Ok time to drink.” He started heading for the house. 

Simon followed and Y/N stood back. Gaz walked up to her with concern on his face. 

“Do we really have to start drinking? It’s like two in the afternoon!” 

Y/N patted him on the back and smiled. 

“Just pace yourself.” He started to walk towards the house but Y/N grabbed his arm “Don’t drink any Jagger until after dinner.” He nodded and turned again but she grabbed his arm “Or Asbach. Or really anything you can’t pronounce.” 

“Y/N…” Gaz said, looking at her and shaking his head. 

“You’ll be fine.” She said her voice was a bit higher than usual.

“Oh god.” He mumbled as he made his way towards the house. 

Soap had been watching the interaction with amusement but then looked over at Y/N and Price realizing it was just the three of them left. He felt the tension and called out to Gaz to wait up. 

They stood there for a minute and then Y/N turned to speak to him but he just walked past her without saying a word. She rubbed her hands over her face and held back her tears, then took a deep breath to gather herself before making her way into the house. 

Several hours later and the team was well past drunk with the exception of Y/N. She had been nursing her one and only beer for hours and everyone else was too drunk to notice. So slowly picked at the label as she was lost in her thoughts, no longer listening to the conversations around her. 

Gaz and Ghost were signing Come on Eileen and butchering the lyrics while Konig and Soap were attempting to speak to each other but their respective accents were so thick they were going nowhere. 

And then there was Price, the one member of the team that always remains mostly sober was now way past tipsy. He had his arms crossed and was leaning back in his chair, eyes on Y/N. She felt it and looked up to see him glaring at her and that pushed her over the edge. 

“I’m going to bed” she mumbled and got up from the table despite the many protests for her to stay. 

She had made it down the hall to her room and was about to close the door when a hand reached over and pushed it open. Y/N, knowing who it was, just turned and walked over to her bag, allowing Price into her room.

“Listen John, you’re drunk and angry. This isn’t the time to do this.” 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” He said angrily and Y/N rubbed her temples 

“Fine Captain, Price, Sir.. whatever you want me to call you. It’s not a good time.” 

“I think it’s the perfect time. You said I’m angry, damn right I am. You lied to me, kept things for me and played games with me. Thank god it was only about sex or I would be even madder than I am now.”

“Just about sex?” Y/N asked her back still to Price. 

“Yeah, no feelings right? That’s how you do things? At least that’s what you told Gaz. I assume now it’s because of Ghost.” 

“You don’t know the situation John. I’m not what you think I am.” 

“I told you not to call me that. And you’re exactly what I think you are.”

“And what’s that? A whore? A homewrecker?” She was starting to get mad

“If the shoe fits.” He huffed, glaring at her with hate in his eyes. “Brings up a good question actually, does he know? I mean I know he doesn’t mind you flirting you do it all the time, even with the crazy German down there. But thinking back, the times you got real dirty it was just you and me. So does he know? Or is this like a deal you two have? I mean personally I think it’s fucked up but seeing you now for what you really are I can see you’re morals are non existent and you have absolutely no loyalty to anyone.” 

“Get out.” Y/N said a single tear running down her face. “Just get the fuck out.” 

John turned towards the door and then stopped. 

“I want you off the team. Now that I know the only reason you’re here is because Ghost pulled some strings to get you on the team I have no use for you. I should’ve known. I hand picked every member of this team but then Kate hands me a file that had next to no info and insisted you be on the team. So what was it? Did he refuse to join unless we brought you on? Doesn’t matter anyways. I don’t want you anymore and if I lose him in the process so be it. I only want soldiers that deserve to be here, that get in on merit and not their ability to ride a cock. As soon as Bako is dealt with you’re gone.” 

With that he walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

Y/N’s legs gave out from under her and she collapsed as a scream formed in her chest. She lost it. Letting herself completely meltdown. She sat like that for a few moments before big strong hands picked her up and she buried her face into Konig’s chest.

“I’ve got vu liebling. Let it vout.” He cooed as he cradled her in his arms. 

Her body shook as she sobbed for a long time. Konig said nothing, just holding her and rubbing his hand up and down her back. 

When her sobs subsided, he picked her up and moved her to the bed. She laid down and curled herself into the fetal position. 

“Do you vant me to leave?” Konig asked softly and she shook her head no. He climbed into the bed next to her and spooned her. 

“Do you vant to talk about it?” 

Y/N shook her head no again so they laid there for about an hour as tears streamed down her face silently. A million thoughts ran through her mind and John's words cut through her over and over. Eventually she turned over so she was face to face with him. 

“You serious about wanting me to join Kortac?” 

“You know I voud take you in ein heartbeat. Are you zure that you’d vant to join us though? It’s pretty different from vhat you’re doing now. Sometimes ve’re not zee good guys.” 

“I know.” Y/N acknowledged

“And vat about Ghost? You vould just leave him? You two have been together for years.” 

“Maybe it’s time we work apart.” 

“Listen, I heard vat your Captain zaid to you at zee end. That vasn’t fair. You're ein impressive soldier and if vu go on the market, Kortac von’t be zee only ones vanting you. Your reputation alone is formidable.” 

“Yeah well you’d be high on my list.” 

“Danke. Vu should know though, Keegan joined us not too long ago. Vould zat be an issue?” 

“Nah, we fought each other, he shot me, I shot him, we worked out our issues and we’re good now . Plus that was a long time ago.” 

Konig nodded and then yawned. 

“I can’t believe you’re still awake, you drank more than the rest of the team.” 

“Light Veights.” He said Y/N smiled. 

“Alright you go to bed, I have some things to think about.” 

“Vu sure vu don’t vant me to spend zee night?” He asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist. 

“Yeah that would be perfect! And then in the morning John will see you walk out of the room and he’ll call me a whore again.” Y/N said sarcastically. 

“I vould crush his tiny head. Almost did earlier, came to vu instead.” He said sleepily 

“Thank you.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead through his mask. “Now go, before you fall asleep.” 

“Ok but vu come to me if vu need ja?” 

“Ja” Y/N replied as he got up and left the room. 

 After he left the room Y/N reached for her phone. She put in the number, her finger then hovered over the call button. If she did this, it was real. She was admitting defeat. 

“You’re already defeated.” She thought to herself and hit the button. 

It didn’t ring for long before the call connected. 

[baduzzxy]

idk how many times i have to say this but IM OBSSESED WITH SECRETBABY!TROPE LIKE CRAZY. IM SHACKLING MY CHAINS AND IM SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CELL FOR IT.

like just imagine being John Price’s “the one that got away” and 2 years later he sees you pulling up at the grocery store with a big, chubby, blue-eyed baby. Maybe your baby got the slope of your nose and the thickness of your brows, but MY GOD that baby is no doubt Price’s.

Imagine the utter shock and the itchy feeling of wanting to lather some love on that baby when he first saw you, carrying his cub on your hip while you browse this week’s meal-prep.

And it’s like your baby knows, turns to rest her chubby cheeks on your shoulder and stares at him. It’s like looking into a mirror and that alone made him throw all purpose of approaching you politely. Just straight walking up to you with his chest puffed up and blurts out “that’s my child.”

GODDD THE DRAMA i can concur up in my MINDDDD like that man spent half of his life surrounded by war, blood on his cheeks and scars on his hands. Give him something soft to hold onto and he’ll bite, never letting it go. So when you gave him the chance to be present in his daughter’s life? yeah you are so done, might as well willingly be his again. That man has no intentions in doing “co-parenting.” like what the fuck is even that?

he’s so delusional too omg when you tried to finally join the dating scene again? he’s pulling up in the meet-up cafes, restaurants, hell even the movie theater. Just straight up ruining the entire date. You can’t even confront him without having your blood boil, because he’s got the audacity the size of Europe.

“Wot’ d’ya mean, doll? jus’ happen to be in the same place as you guys were in.”

“John- just! get out.”

He’s gonna use your baby as leverage omg that evil evil man. Lame ass excuses too.

“C’mon darl, not even a lil peck? look, our princess ‘s watchin, she’s going to think mama and daddy don’t like each other.”

“Get dressed, luv. Gonna bring you to this cute restaurant- no of course not, our baby loves their food! wouldn’t you want her happy?”

“what? you’ve gone off to another man? what about our baby?”

And when he forges your signature in wedding papers? yeah no. You can’t escape no more. You’ve slipped from his fingers once, and his not planning on letting it happen again.

[gothghostiie]

price with reader who never got much attention as a kid/growing up??

very self indulgent but hear me out. price is a lover man. he takes his time for his partners, gives them what they need, even if he's busy. you on the other hand are simply used to being put aside, people only listening to you half heartedly, not looking at you and getting distracted when you talk, other things were always more important than you and you felt that. you got used to it, it's normal to you.

but when you're with price he's the total opposite. he looks at you intently when you talk (if not hes leaning his head towards you so he hears you better), putting things down when you ask him something - hes attentive. he listens. and its absolutely strange to you, it makes you feel flustered, kinda watched. at some point you ask him why hes looking at you like that, the tv running in the backround. he furrows his eyebrows at you, with a confused chuckle. "what do you mean, love?"

"you're starin' at me." you accuse him, your cheeks getting hot.

"you're talkin' to me. where else would I be looking?" he jokes with a soft chuckle, wondering what the hell you're on about.

"your show's on." you say, gesturing to the tv. he looks at you like youve got three heads.

"I'm listening to you, love."

[tame-the-lion-writes]

“… Sweetheart, when was the last time you went into heat?”

“I mean, I’ve— I’ve always been on suppressants, so—“

“That’s not a date, love.”

You swallow hard, looking at the cement floor of the makeshift safe house. You were supposed to be home by now, to have access to all your meds—but no. You were here. Out in enemy territory, holed up with the rest of your team.

Your otherwise all alpha team.

“Never.”

Well. Shit.

[reaping-the-benefits]

Imagine you're the medic assigned to the task force. You're not some dainty little thing. You're snappy and will drag them by the ears if you have to. You're constantly getting into arguments with Price because he won't listen to you when all you're trying to do is help him.

Anyway, the rest of the team has bets on how long its going to take before you two finally fuck. Gaz gives y'all another month. Soap says two weeks. Ghost thinks that you've already done it.

Now, imagine how mad Gaz and Soap are, both giving Ghost 50 quid each when Price casually drops that not only do you have sex on the regular, but you've been married for the last five years.

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

bear hybrid! price who stalks around your house at night, protecting you from whatever else might be lurking in the woods. you don't know that he is of course, but you should be more thankful when he shuts and locks your windows when you're asleep. occasionally you see him lumber on the edge of the forest, minding his own. he doesn't want to scare you, but he wants you to admire him, too.

wolf hybrid! simon that follows you everywhere (from a distance and he rarely lets you touch him). you were frightened at first of the big bad wolf, but when he takes you away from snakes and other dangers in the woods you learn to leave out some scraps for him. (he sleeps on your front step. won't enter the house yet.)

fox hybrid! johnny who regularly sneaks into your house to play in your blankets. the wildlife here is so friendly you're shocked, shouldn't they be frightened of you? however he sleeps under your bed and he's fine unless you try to kick him out. red fur is on everything, he seems unusually close to the wolf that looms around. loves scratches to the ears!

falcon hybrid! kyle who hovers in air around your house. he finds little trinkets for you and leaves them on your porch. he mostly hangs around price, but he will chirp greetings and steal bird feed from your feeders.

they protect you in different ways, trying to worm their way to your affections before they bed down in your abode for winter.

[lyeofhell]

you know John’s petty as hell. like no one that controlling and obsessed with caretaking is normal. if you unbuckle your own seatbelt and open your own door before he can jump outta the driver’s seat and do it, he’ll run around the car and shut the door back in your face just so he can open it for you djskdskd

[spurbleu]

jus been thinking about a reader who isn’t used to spending much money/grew up cheaper who is dating price.

because he’s absolutely the type to spoil you, and you are just baffled because £2,000 for a necklace is ridiculous. you only like it, not love it. and ‘sides, he shouldn’t be spending that much on a piece of jewelry.

but it made you stutter your steps when you saw it in the window. made you pause before answering him when he asked, “y’like that dove?” half-mindedly responding “mhm…” it all only solidified his assumption you were smitten.

course, when he started towards to the door your hands found fluttering purchase on his shirt, shaking your head, hissing,

“absolutely not. way to expensive.”

“nothing is too expensive if it’s f-“

“John.”

you could find one just like it at a flea market, a reassurance that didn’t seem to do much for John, but you were unbothered. you had a good eye for those things. so it was forgotten.

until, you’re bidding a sappy goodbye at the airport before his flight, and he slips something into your back pocket, taps your bum and winks.

“keep it safe.”

you leave your fury with it in your back pocket until you get home, ripping the box open to reveal, sneaky bastard, the necklace.

[ghouljams]

thanks for the mind fodder!

But now I think about sitting under a table, Nik to the left, Price to the right, one Hand on each of their arousals while trying to decide which Piercing to and Equipment to suckle in First. The ladder Of Nik or John's scrot-piercing... Cant decide...

Wrong on both accounts you start by lapping at Nik's prince Albert. Playing with the piercing and also slicking your tongue over the head of his cock, bumping the little rod back and forth through it's pierced hole and enjoying the taste of metal and pre-come. Unless he's soft when you start. Then still the pronce Albert if only because you also get to feel the way the tip of his cock gets harder, the piercing more visible and easier to play with, as Nik's foreskin is pull led back. GOD just wrapping your lips around the tip to suckle at it like you can't take the full thing. Clicking your teeth against the piercing through his tip and listening to the throaty chuckle he lets out, the swear in Russian, the damning click of his tongue before his hand grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward, forcing you down his ladder until you gag and he lets you pull off.

"Four," he hums, his hand moving to grip the base of his heavy cock, keeping it from hanging between his legs, unable to stand under its own weight, "Ghost is training them well."

Price humming beside him, "Lets see if they can get their tongue on mine." Before you're traded over to him, you tongue held out in eager anticipation. You'll take Price to the base if it means getting your tongue even a millimeter closer to those rings on his sack.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Shadow And Paws

Chapter 5: Shared Vulnerabilities

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff and bonding, vulnerabilities shared

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, I’m trying to progress the relationship with them so this is pretty much a filler I’m sorry-

Word Count: 888

Masterlist | Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The sanctuary’s night was still, save for the faint crackle of the fire and the occasional chirp of crickets. The group had settled around the flames, each in their own way. Foxy sat closest to the fire, the light dancing across their features, their tail curling comfortably around their legs. Price leaned against a log, methodically sharpening his knife. Soap sprawled out on his back, his eyes lazily tracing constellations above. Gaz perched on a low-hanging branch, as if ready to take flight at any moment, while Ghost lingered in the shadows, silent but present.

The stillness wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with unspoken things. Finally, Foxy broke the silence, their tone light but curious. “So, how’d you all end up together? Doesn’t exactly seem like a natural fit.”

Soap chuckled, his tail wagging slightly as he tilted his head to glance at Price. “Aye, we’re not exactly what you’d call conventional, are we, Cap?”

Price’s lip twitched in what could have been a smile. “Conventional doesn’t get the job done.” He set his knife down, leaning back against the log. “It’s not about where you come from. It’s about what you bring to the table.”

Foxy arched a brow, their gaze playful. “And what do you bring, Price? Besides bossing everyone around, of course.”

The group broke into laughter. Even Ghost let out a low huff of amusement.

“Discipline,” Price replied simply, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

“Now that,” Soap chimed in, “is a fancy way of sayin’ ‘he barks orders.’”

Gaz smirked from his perch. “Sounds about right to me.”

The conversation carried on, lighter now, the group easing into the moment. But then Soap turned to Foxy, his expression softening. “What about you? How’d you end up out here, takin’ on all this by yourself?”

Foxy hesitated, their fingers idly brushing against the scars on their arms. The firelight glinted in their eyes as they looked away. “Someone has to protect this place. If I don’t, who will?” Their voice was quiet but steady, though the weight of the words hung heavy in the air.

Gaz’s voice broke the silence, warm and sincere. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Foxy’s gaze flicked to him, then to the others. Price gave a firm nod, Soap offered a reassuring grin, and even Ghost’s unreadable stare seemed softer. It was a moment of unspoken understanding, a step closer to trust.

Soap stretched dramatically, breaking the tension with a groan. “Right, since we’re all gettin’ deep and meaningful, how about we share somethin’ a bit more fun? Like the most embarrassin’ thing that’s ever happened to us.”

Foxy blinked, caught off guard. “That’s quite the pivot.”

“I’ll start,” Soap said, grinning. “I once climbed a tree to impress a lass. Got stuck up there for hours ‘cause I was too stubborn to ask for help.”

The group erupted into laughter, Foxy clutching their sides as Soap held up his hands in mock surrender.

Gaz leaned forward, still chuckling. “That’s nothing. I fell out of a tree during a recon mission once—landed right in the middle of an enemy patrol. Played it off like I meant to be there, but Price wasn’t too happy about having to pull me out.”

Price shook his head, his mustache twitching. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck, mate.”

Foxy smirked, their tail flicking. “You guys really have a thing with trees, huh?”

Gaz shot them a playful glare. “What about you? Got an embarrassing story to share?”

Foxy hesitated, a sly smile tugging at their lips. “Oh, I’ve got plenty. Like the time I tried to outsmart a bear to get some honey. Let’s just say I ran faster than I ever thought I could.”

Soap burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “A bear? You’re braver than I thought, Foxy.”

“Or dumber,” Foxy countered, grinning.

The group’s laughter filled the night, the fire crackling warmly in the background. Even Ghost shared a quiet story—one about mistaking a cat for an enemy in the dead of night, which earned a round of chuckles and a rare, self-deprecating smirk.

As the laughter died down, a thoughtful silence settled over the group. Price leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. “We’ve been through a lot together, but I don’t think we’ve ever properly introduced ourselves.”

The others glanced at one another, hesitant. Price looked at Foxy, his expression encouraging.

Foxy shifted, their gaze dropping to the fire. After a moment of silence, their name slipped from their lips, soft but clear.

The boys looked at them curiously. Soap tilted his head, his voice gentle. “Come again, love?”

Foxy swallowed, their voice steadier this time. “My name. That’s what it is.” They repeated it, their tone quieter but sure.

The group exchanged glances before Price nodded. “Fair enough.”

Soap grinned. “Guess it’s only fair we return the favor. Name’s Johnny.”

Gaz followed, his falcon-like gaze warm. “Kyle.”

Ghost hesitated, his voice low. “Simon.”

Finally, Price spoke, his tone firm. “John.”

Foxy’s gaze swept over them, something warm settling in their chest. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Properly.”

Soap smirked, his tail flicking. “Guess we’re not just strangers anymore, eh?”

The group fell into an easy silence, the firelight reflecting the beginnings of something deeper—something that felt a little like home.

——

End of Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[yeyinde]

winter soldier au with John Price who was held in a gulag for three years and comes home wrong. comes back snarling and furious and threatening to rip apart the goddamn world if they don't give him what belongs to him, what's rightfully his, if they don't give him back his fucking wife, right this second—

the only problem is: John's ex-wife remarried. she's halfway around the world, and Laswell knows John enough to immediately squash that idea right away. but if not her, then who?

and then you walk into the room—a newly hired secretary that John has met less than a handful of times; a pencil pusher barely even a blip on the radar—but he pounces. snatches you up before any of them can react, tucking your bemused face into his chest, cradling you tight; possessively clutching at you as Kyle tries, and fails, to calm him down.

"you don't know her, sir. just let the girl go—"

it's met with a nasty snarl. all gleaming, bloodied teeth. a stranger in a familiar shape as John drags you further away from them. "this is my goddamn wife."

his declaration is met with shock. you're definitely not his wife. you barely know him much outside of a several, threadbare exchanges where he breathed down your neck about filing the wrong reports, and the cluttered mess of your desk ("a goddamn eyesore—"). you're not even friends. and in all honesty, you didn't even think he liked you that much. so. wife?

but he's beyond reason. his head a mangled, trenched mess of artillery fire and Makarov's torture. three years, Kate breathes. three whole years.

you can tell, almost immediately, by the look on her face that this—that you—will become a necessary loss in the grand scheme of things. and when John lets her close enough to whisper into your ear (having somehow convinced him that he can just walk out of here with you, his fucking wife, leaving for the marital home (and bed) that he demands from them for this brief stalemate)—she hurriedly tells you about their plot. this high risk, no reward scenario of playing along. not that you have much of a choice.

keeping John Price as close to them as possible was worth more than something as flimsy, as malleable as your agency, your autonomy. and if the way to do it was to let a brainwashed man play house with you, then so be it.

she, at the very least, offers a grim sort of smile even though you can see her working out the mechanics of it all as she makes promises on your behalf. things like, yes, John, you can leave with your wife. she missed you so much, John. she's so happy you're home.

"we kept your wife safe for you, John—" no one seems to react to the violent way Johnny has to be dragged out of the room by Ghost, kicking and screaming at the injustice of it all because th' captain wouldnae do this! don't do this t'him!

and John—if there's any part of that man still inside him, he doesn't let an inch of it show—just nods, lip pulling up into a snarl as he bullies you closer to his chest, and growls about finally getting you home.

"I'll keep you with me," he rasps, blunt fingers spreading wide over the fill of your body. a mad, twisted gleam of possessiveness, ownership, burning in bruised blue as he familiarises himself with this body he claimed as his. "right where you belong, wife."

(the word comes out in a bite. snaps around you and sounds just like mine.)

[pricesprincess]

the past week has been so busy you haven't had time to do laundry meaning you were stuck wearing a lacy pink thong around the house.

it's been years since you wore one, well before you had kids, and it's beyond uncomfortable, the material like floss between your ass cheeks that you kept pulling out with an irritated sigh.

which in turn caught john's attention.

since the kiddos were in school, you both took the time to clean up the house and organize things since the holidays were coming up.

"why do you keep picking your arse, love?"

john's question made you stop midpick as your face flushed with heat at being caught.

currently you were in the laundry room about to bend over when your fingers were busy under your long shirt you wore for cleaning.

"i don't have anything else but this."

his fingers replaced yours before tracing over and down the globe and then the crease under your cheek while leaning in to kiss your neck.

john's beard tickled you making you melt into him once his rough hands gripped your hips. "you should wear this more often. it's quiet around the house, another baby wouldn't hurt."

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3