#CaptainJohnPrice

[00ops1e]

taskforce 141 + könig x sick! reader

warnings: emetophobia trigger warning, mentions of puking/being sick, fluff, hurt/comfort maybe??, not proofread a/n: omg here it is. the first cod thing ive written! but not actually theres some filth hiding in my documents. this is totally lowkey a self insert. geared towards female! reader but if you squint at the petnames could be gn. i've been so so sick lately and tbh scares me a lil but what cant be fixed by fictional men?? nothing.

Ghost

 A little bit of a germaphobe

Will take off his mask, but replace it with a medical mask

Only so he can still hold you, just with a peace of mind

He does NOT want to get sick too

Because then how could he take care of you?

Always has a puke bowl at the ready

Orders your favorite takeout, even if you don’t feel like eating

Because hes a firm believer in leftovers.

Which may just be the cause of this

But you'd never tell him. poor man would get so guilty he had forgotten to throw it away.

Puts on a movie and lets you fall asleep on his chest

I feel like he’s a cold-blooded type of person, doesn’t generate much heat

but makes up for it in comfort

so many blankets

so so many. 

Checks your temperature in your sleep

Lowkey counts respirations just to be sure

Makes sure you keep hydrated

Will bring you to urgent care if he’s really worried

No matter how much you protest!

Soap

Squeamish when it comes to throwing up

Will try his very best to stay with you, but sometimes ends up running from the room

Because the last thing he'd wanna do is gag at you

While hes ran away he gets a cold rag to press on your forehead, and clean you up a bit in the process

"yer hidin? awh bonnie i wasnt meanin' to embarrass ye" he says while taking your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes

"sickness and health yeah? i wanna take care of you"

Insists on rubbing vicks/ vaporub on you

Not because hes a little perv (he is)

But because he loves you and the sniffles break his little heart

peppers kisses across your collarbones, vicks smell clogging his nose

but he’s too focused on the goosebumps that rise on your skin, your little shivers

“Awh, my poor sick lass,”

Constantly checking for a fever

Forcing you to stay in bed, even after you feel better, “not takin chances, rest up.”

this man on the other hand is a human space heater

throwing a blanket on and off the two of you, getting too hot and then shortly after too cold. 

not as convenient when it’s hot out lol

head rubs 

head rubs

Gaz

Tries to bring you to a doctor/ urgent care immediatley

Will try to call an ambulance over a slight fever

Stocks up on pedialyte/makes sure youre hydrated

Cuddles constantly, does not care if he catches anything

loves being the big spoon so he can lay in the crook of your neck and still hold onto you tight 

Has extra blankets on deck

entertains you with silly little jokes

but then apologizes while giggling because you laughed so hard it hurt a little. 

Will feed you cold medicine/tums

teases you when you complain about taking them

“i don’t need you gettin any grumpier love”

Will hold back your hair/ stroke your back while youre getting sick

gets offended when you get embarrassed about it

“are you judging my girl?” he teases you

Tries his best to cook, but lowkey fails miserably

Resorts to cup of noodles and lipton packets. 

Price

Such dad vibes

Will make soup or other comfort foods from scratch

And his cooking skills are unmatched

Runs you a shower/bath and washes your hair for you

back rubs and massages

pressing small kisses to your shoulders as he works

also a human heater but not too hot, just the perfect temperature 

also just the perfect shape to spoon you, cradling every inch of your body

“I hate it when my baby’s sick,” he says, rubbing soft circles into your side

Doesnt even have to make a pharmacy run because hes so well prepared

Feeds you medicine, on the dot, every few hours after it wears off

(he totally sets reminders in his phone. [typing like an old person with reading glasses on])

Will stay in bed all day with you, quietly typing and mumbling to himself while you nap at his side

occasionally leaning down to kiss your forehead while he works

the computer goes away as soon as you wake up

"how're you feeling princess?"

loves having you in his arms, pulled close to his chest

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep on the couch (bridal style ofc)

Will hold your hair back, refuses to leave your side

“Of course youre not gross darling, we all get sick,”

Konig

rubs your back as you're hunched over the toilet

will sit down with you on the floor, back up against the bathtub when its too much of a risk to leave the bathroom

just wants to keep you company :(

"take as long as you need, liebling"

fills up the tub while still convincing you to get in

he promises you'll feel better after

caves and offers to join you as a last resort to get you cleaned up

Long baths, cuddling in the warm water

Letting the steam clear your sinus

Brushes and braids your hair

when you start feeling better but are still running a fever, hes worried.

but youre dealing with a burst of energy and simply must start with the housework

konig will put you over his shoulder and escort you back to bed

will paint your nails in bed to entertain you, anything to keep you still and in bed

Lets you put your cold feet on him, but only when you dont feel good

totally unprepared because i feel like this man has an immune system of steel

makes a quick pharmacy run, but has to call you for the shopping list bc oops he forgot 

depending on how sick you are, lets you come along for the ride

“promise you’ll stay in the car ja?”

always returns with a sweet little treat or small gift/toy for you

“gesundheit!” as he chuckles at your sneeze 

jokes that maybe he should put a mask on you

[bigfathoe4you]

Just a small drabble about Capt. Price grappling with the UK gov. and their role in different conflicts

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“What?” you turn over your shoulder, “John, years of your life have been dedicated to this' ' John continued to scrub the dishes as if commenting on the weather, and not leaving a career he’s been in for over 20 years.

“It’s all going to be alright, I’ve got savings, Love” He said crossing the kitchen to hold your hands, “we’ll be alright.”

“You love your job” you urge squeezing his hands, “I don’t understand”

He dropped his hold on you, wringing his hands ``I- I’ve done a lot of things. Unforgivable things. But the bullshit orders they’ve been passing out lately, I just can’t justify it.” He steps forward again, slipping his hands into the soft plushes of your hips, your hands trail up his arms finding his neck, “I just rationalise the orders”

You shift your hands to cup his face, leaning back allowing him to curve himself over you, leaning in you ask “can you tell me?” He slowly shakes his head, “okay” you stand back up, clapping your hands together “Now, what about our boys?”

Leaning back with an appreciative chuckle tightening his grip on you, “My lads will follow me wherever I go”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[quoxal]

New entry to the rope CoD guys. Price finds himself tied up and being "interrogated". ☺️

[ryanlovesjosh]

js recently started to play cod mw reboot (finished all 3) and I’m now playing cod mw og story as I absolutely loved bbg captain price so much. Anyways here’s something I wanted to share.

[hofrrra]

[secularpoet]

Call of Duty: Task Force 141 (on Wattpad)   Two months after Hassan's assassination, America's President receives a video regarding the kidnapping of his niece. Task Force 141 is requested for the mission. Y/n is the mission. Once rescued, there will be two problems: your secret, and the man known as Simon "Ghost" Riley. Whose life will you choose: yours, or his?

[charm6997]

COD what ifs , smut , & one shots - Jasper's Info for future writings (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1361822308-cod-what-ifs-smut-one-shots-jasper%27s-info-for?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Lucky_Charm6997&wp_originator=s%2BY6f1%2BkiNWN%2Faj8uYLz%2F%2BzU7vj18XYExDJ8DG0Ubm6%2FV4%2Bvoyd0H79WVac09qKoWpHGY59neLiBhQ80hO16xUnoIjYPdLqS5rNrIjh06ULQPHPlMm9X8NcdXHV5rC5T   Also updated it here in case no one uses AO3 

[00ops1e]

i’m slobbering

💕🩰

I'm sorry but I just know that Price has a breeding kink🥴

mdni 🎀 nsfw below the cut

Price has always, despite his situation, considered himself a family man, and with not only the added financial benefits of being boosted up to the SAS, but also the flexibility of being a captain, there's a yearning for something to come home to. So, when he finally marries someone that makes coming home more anticipatory than leaving in the first place, he can't help but finally feel fulfilled. Almost.

There's something missing though. Something that he can't help but yearn for. He's seen the way his fellow soldiers look at their partners with babies slung on their hips or bellies swollen with pregnancy, and he can't help but feel so selfishly jealous. He knows he shouldn't, knows that he should feel grateful for all of the goodness that she's bought into his life, that he's got the privilege of coming home alive, let alone alive, and to a beautiful woman willing to sink down on her knees for him and worship his cock like he's more god than mere man. Despite this, he wants more, and always finds himself feeling like Icarus inching that much closer to the sun with every good thing he gets.

"I want a baby." He growls into your ear whilst his cock is buried to the hilt inside your slick cunt, fingers interlocked and his baby blues burning vehemently into your own. He's long stilled his thrusts to capture your attention, and by the way your tits bob slightly with the movement of a deep inhale pulled in and held, followed by a little ragged puff of air back into his face, he can tell that you're listening. "You want a baby?" The waver in your voice doesn't go unnoticed by either of you, the almost imperceptible squeeze of your fingers around Johns igniting a spark of hope in his long thawed heart. "I want a baby. With you."

"Now?"

"Now."

"What about your work?"

"I've already sorted it."

John sees the way your brain short circuits at not only his words, but also the encouragingly slow snap of his hips as he thrusts up against your cervix, the hair of his chest brushing against your already sensitive nipples as he keeps at his languorous pace, waiting for you to give him an answer before he stuffs you full of his cum and doesn't let you get up through fear of potentially wasting even a drop of his seed.

"Please, darling. Fuck." He grunts as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes glossed over as you zone out, imagining a future with you and the man you love, and your children - child, even - maybe a dog for good measure. "You're sure you're ready?" You whisper, feeling the distinct prickling of tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. "S' all I want."

"Okay."

And with that, John's warm hand settles at the back of your neck, fingers curling into the roots of your hair whilst his free arm supports his position over you. Every time the weeping tip of his cock slams up into the plug of your womb and leaves your eyes rolling shut, he yanks gently on your hair, just enough to jerk your head back to look at his almost animal expression, growling about how he wants to look his wife in the eye when he fucks her full of his kids. He's entirely merciless as he spears you open on his cock, hitting the spot that makes your walls flutter desperately around him with every thrust, huffing in your ear when you drag your nails down his back at the mention of how fucking sexy you'll look all soft and swollen with his baby. You both know he won't be stopping at one.

You cum almost shamefully around his cock when he grabs a handful of the plush flesh of your boobs, dropping kisses down the column of your neck until his nose rests against your collarbone, keening out from both the physical and mental overstimulation. John rides you through it, leaving his tip brushing against your cervix as he finishes himself, before rolling you over with his cock still plugged inside, not wasting any of his cum as you lay there panting on his chest whilst his lips press to the top of your head before whispering in your ear:

"So I was thinking green for the nursery?"

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

quick lil something because I literally have no ideas of what to write oops 🤭

[heedthetenofwands]

pirate!captainjohnprice x mermaid!femreader

You've sworn yourself to never trust humans. They are selfish. They betray and lie. They dance and twist around the truth as easy as drawing a breath.

And this captain was no different. He wasn't. He couldn't.

...Right?

or... in search for treasure, the 141 crew and the Shadow fleet finally land at their X on the map. But, where they expected gold, they find merfolk. And where Captain John Price expected just another mission, he found you.

Chapter 1

The sun winked at the pirate boat as she peeked over the horizon and through the clouds. Price smiled at her arrival through squinted eyes; their routine was familiar, but the sight always left him awestruck. The warm tones that flooded the deck meant he knew the men who slept beneath would wake soon.

He put out the candle to his side as he assessed the map once more. This thing they were after – what lay under that X – would be the most valuable treasure they would find yet, or so says Shepherd. The bounty would mean more supplies for the crew and a helping of meat at the market. Gods knew the last time they had protein that wasn’t fish.

“Mornin’ Cap’n.” He heard his quartermaster grumble as he joined him. Price glanced over to see Ghost, a dark headband over his hair and temple, with black fabric covering the lower half in his face. The fabric was marked with a faded image of the lower half of a skull. He turned to Price, kohl smeared eyes narrowing in on the map, “We're almost there aren't we?”

Price nodded then furrowed his brows in thought, “It’s doing my head in that we’re still in the dark.”

Ghost hummed a sound of agreement. "You sent that letter to Shepherd. He should reply soon.”

A loud yawn suddenly draws their attention to someone walking up the stairs from the lower deck to join them.

“Morning.” Gaz greeted them while rubbing his eyes. The early morning wasn’t the boatswain's scene – ‘pretty boy needs his beauty sleep’ Soap would tease before an eyeroll from said pretty boy. He came to stand on the opposite side of the table to Price and looks down at the map too.

A beat passes before, “Where’s Soap?” Price asks. The Scot could get skittish when there had been little action at sea - it had been three months since any sign of another ship.

Gaz sighed. “Harassing the chefs, captain.”

Price laughed, “He realises that they have no control over bread for breakfast?”

Gaz chuckles, “Nope. Has a whole conspiracy that they’re keeping the meat to themselves.”

Price smiles slightly at that, before he registered the shouts of the lower crew. Cries of ‘land ahoy’ sounded and speculative whispers soon spread round the deck as he and the rest of his team stepped out of the upper cabin to find the island they had been looking for. Price instinctively reached for his telescope to scan the area further. Bringing the looking glass to eye-level, he could see tall forests that no doubt hid bountiful flora and fauna deep in the jungle of the island, but the mainland was not where they would seek. Instead, he moved to focus on the caves to the far left before he yelled for the men to prepare the anchors and boats.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The battering heat of the sun was blocked by the looming cave walls as the pirates and their rowboats were swallowed by the midnight tones of the cave’s depth. The men helped each other light their torches as the boats followed down further into the cave. Price was confident that this was what they had been looking for; it was a perfect cove to hide a treasure.

They followed the narrow confines of the cave’s walls until the stream ended and they arrived in the cave’s centre. Price decided that he and his team would scope the area that was located further into the cave before he would let Graves and his Shadows perform a wider search. He relayed this much to the pirate who responded with a nod leaving him to let Soap and Gaz row to get ahead of the boats and closer to the shrouded land.

It was only when Price stepped off the boat and help up his torch to scope the ground did his eyes widen as he took in the image. As far as he could see, were merfolk asleep along the shoreline, covering practically every inch of where the waves could lap at their forms as they slept on the sand.

Bloody hell.

He and his men had been led to a merfolks’ rest.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The history of the merfolk and humans was rife with bitter blood and violent encounters. Price vaguely remembered the fragile truce that had recently transpired between the two, and he wasn’t going to be the one to crush it all for the sake of whatever treasure they were sent to find. He stepped backwards to return to the boat, keeping his eye on the merfolk in case they awoke. The men must have seen them too – their hushed murmurs fell to a choked silence - but Price couldn’t help a startled grunt at his body being pulled from under him. A strong and swift form had grabbed his legs and was dragging him into the deeper depths of the waters: down, down, down.

You were not letting this man or his men near your people.

You had been awakened by the light of his torch, a small but immediate starkness to the cave’s shadows allowing your eyes to narrow in on how the glow of the flames danced across the man’s face. He had prominent dark brown facial hair, and a dark coat covered his large form; you could see his eyes widen at the sight of what he had discovered. You knew what you had to do if you wanted to avoid a massacre; it must be done, you tell yourself once more as you watch him struggle for breath in your grasp.

However, this wasn’t Price’s first mermaid encounter. Bringing his knees to his chest as quick as he can, he brings your form close enough to grab your head and slam it to his knee. The force of it is dizzying and the few seconds of disorientation it costs you steals your victory. 

By the time you open your eyes, you were being pulled from the water by a pair of large and rough hands, and a shocked gasp escapes you as the human lifts you so your back was held tight to his chest and his knife hovers above your neck. You keep your eye on the edge of the blade and attempt to calm your breathing. Your neck would be cut if it came any closer to your erratic breaths. Then, you lift your gaze to meet the horrified stares of your kind. You had failed so miserably. The knife at your throat was only a hint of the torture that would await everyone.

As you felt your mind resettling, you took note of how this human was holding your body up. He was strong, you could give him that. He shifts his hold on you to the side of his body so he could see the merfolk.

“We don’t want any trouble.” He spoke out. “We didn’t know you were resting here.” You clench your jaw at that, holding your tongue from saying something rash. It was obvious the others weren’t convinced of his words either as they started moving – he was in their territory right now - but he only narrowed his eyes, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He brings the knife too close - far too close - and as the panic rushes through your head you rear your face back, your arms push try to wrench his grasp on your but his grip remained strong. Your quickened and uncontrolled breathing lets his knife nick repeatedly at the surface of your neck. The growing trail of blood stops the merfolk where they are. They retreat from the human, and he mirrors their actions, pulling the blade away once more from you. The caves echo your last panicked gasps and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“Get on with it, human.” You seethe. You can feel his eyes narrow on the back of your head. You stare forward.

“Alright, here’s the deal.” His voice rumbles. “Like I said, we’re not here to cause trouble, you lot let us out of ‘ere, and I’ll release her at the entrance to return to you.” Your mouth dries up and your tail curls at his command. Liar.

The merfolk murmur at his words, many throwing you concerned and worried glances. Quickly, the talking stops and everyone is looking at you, waiting to see what you had to say. Closing your eyes, you know you had accepted your fate when you had been caught. You knew how men gutted creatures they hooked from the sea and still, you opened your eyes, looked at everyone for the final time and smiled as you nodded. You vaguely feel the human’s eyes watching you, before stepping backwards into the water. You keep your eyes on the surface of the water as he passes you into the arms of another human, he too hovers a knife over your neck, but it all came second to the numbing surrealness of the whole ordeal. This was it.

You hear your captor tell one of them to tie your hands. You grunt as a man you could only refer to as ‘skull-face’ drops you onto your stomach, you’re left winded by the sudden impact of the rough wooden floor of the boat. He ties your hands and when it’s over, he turns you to your side and leaves to join the captain.

You close your eyes.

You try to keep your head held up, so the side of your face wasn’t pressed into the sandy wet floor. The boat picks up speed and you hear the rush of water as the men follow the path to the cave’s entrance.

As if to comfort yourself before the end, you curl your tail inwards. But as you do, your fin catches the end of a blunt object. Tilting your head down and opening your eyes, you can see a small knife that lay at the end of the boat – it’s handle was close to your fins. If you stretched just enough, you could obtain it.

Your heart awoke with fervour at the chance to strike before they could put you down. You whip your tail towards the knife. It's just short that you have to absolutely stretch your tail's length to grip the end of the handle. With the blade in your tail's hold, you're worried that the men had heard your movements.  You glance at the four, but their backs are still to you. Quickly, you swing your tail backwards and you manage to wedge the knife at the ropes which tied your hands.

You feel your heart hammering against your chest as you slowly move the knife back and forth and, finally, cut the rope around your hands. With your hands free, you brace your hands on the boat floor to push your torso up and turn your body to have your back on the floor. The exhaustion leaves you careless as the sound of your exertion causes the men to turn their heads to the back of the boat. Seeing that you're free, skullface immediately draws a pistol.

At first, you freeze. But, remembering your limited time alive anyway, you brandish the small knife at him with one arm while the other pushes against the floor to help you move your body to the back of the boat. Quickly, you feel your back hit the wooden end of the boat and all you can hear is your shallow breathing as you hold your puny knife at gunpoint.

The two men beside him have stopped rowing too, their gaze upon the stand off, shoulders tense and eyes wary.

“Stand down.” Your captor – their leader - commands. Skullface stills at that, and moves aside to allow him to walk towards you. You only glare and tighten the two-hand grip on the handle as the captain walks and kneels on one knee in front of you. Something about his tired eyes and the escape of a small sigh stops you from lunging towards his neck with the blade.

“We aren’t gonna hurt you.” And it’s stupid, the way you could almost believe him. You blame the burnt exhaustion you find lacing his tone instead of the sharp edge you had come to associate with the man. You don’t move the knife away. He’s unfazed. “What’s your name?”

You don’t waver, “Let me leave. Right now.”

“We will. When we reach the cave’s exit.”

“Liar.” You fire back immediately.

You hear another human’s voice from one of the boats that had been trailing behind. "What are you doing, Price?” He shouts – an irritated bark.

“Nothing, Graves.” Your captor responds back in a raised voice, “Give us a minute.” He tells him before turning those blue eyes back to you. “Look, we had no idea you were here.” He holds a hand over your heart, a gesture you recognised to mean as one of sincerity on land but here, on the sway of the ocean surface, it fell flat. Recognising your unconvinced look, he sighs, “Your people, they seem to care for you. They would have never let me, or my crew leave unscathed if it weren’t for your safety." He sees your brows furrow a little. A curiosity of where he was going with this speech soothed your hostility. “And whether you believe me or not, it’s the same f'me. If securing your safety brings my men a safe passage out of ‘ere. I’m not risking it.” With that, he holds out a hand, palm up. You remove your gaze from his as you try to gather your thoughts.

When you reflected on earlier, it made sense. Considering everything, it genuinely seemed that these humans had no idea that they would meet merfolk. You meet his eyes and the stern, but calm, gaze holds your own as you seem to surrender the blade to his hands.

But you swore to never let your fate rest on humans again. And that is what drives you to turn the blade on yourself.

You ignore the captain's yell as you drive the blade towards your heart. But he's quick and is able to wrap his hands over yours. Not enough to stop you, but he manages to divert your path from your beating heart to your shoulder.

You gasp at the cut, but your shock transforms to fury at realising what he's done. You lock eyes with the human and try to pull the blade out. Perhaps you may get lucky and bleed out.

No such luck. The blade remains wedged, the captain keeping his grip. Before you realise it, he has his other hand grab your wrist before turning your body around and pinning you back down on the ground. He ignores your curses, effortlessly keeping you pinned to the floor. Instead, he shouts out to his men, you don't know or care what for but you figure it out nonetheless when you feel your hands being tied again and a blindfold obscuring your vision.

You don't stop resisting - if you're to die, let it be at the hands of the sea - but eventually, he leaves you alone and you feel the boat start up again. And whether it was the fear, panic, your wound or even being out of the water this long, everything fades to nothingness.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A frantic getaway from the cave and the swarms of raging mermaids and mermen leaves the pirates to regroup and reflect back on the ship. Price and his men look over the map once more, double checking and confirming their location, while some men are treated for their wounds and others start filling an empty crate with water for the mermaid.

Price hears a couple whistles from the deck. The questioning gaze he sends his men draws a somewhat awkward moment.

A beat passes before Gaz coughs, “The mermaid, cap, they’ve put her in the crate but she’s a bit exposed now that we’re in the sun.” Price narrows his eyes at that before turning away from the table and makes his way down the deck to the crate.

“Something interesting here, men?” He sternly asks the small group of pirates that had crowded around the mermaid. They straighten up and turn to face him.

One of them pipes up, “Nothing, cap, just not every day you see a mermaid.”

“Could say the same for a pair o’ tits for you, mate." Another cuts in with a smirk.

“Enough. Leave her alone until we figure out what to do.” Price orders and the men disperse. Price is about to turn to turn away and regroup with Graves and his men but catches your form still bound and exposed.

Your eyes were shut, and someone must have removed the knife to place bandages around your shoulder. Price notes and simmers at the unnecessary cruelty of leaving your chest uncovered. He begins to unbutton his waistcoat and, once he pulls it off, cuts free the rope on your hands. He doesn’t let his eyes wonder over the glow of your skin in the sunset lighting, instead, methodically slipping your arms through the waistcoat's holes. Price ignores the feel of the brush of his fingers over your skin as he fixes the buttons before walking away.

Approaching his men and Graves, he doesn’t miss the way Ghost narrows in on his missing waistcoat.

“Graves.” He says. This stops the man’s chatter with his shadows. “A word.” At that, the others leave their leaders on the upper deck. Graves is nonchalant, sharpening a knife as he waits for Price.

“What seems to be the problem?” He asks, the cadence of his voice gives the question a knowing tone.

“The problem is I have an injured mermaid on my ship Graves, that wasn’t part of the deal. We came here for treasure, not to stir up trouble with the merfolk.” Price can feel the pressings of a migraine settling so he tries to focus on the warm dying embers of the sky. “Now with us practically holding one of them hostage, we’re never going to be get back in that cave. It will be even worse when she dies. What do you suppose we do?”

Graves stops sharpening the knife, holding it up to see it in the final rays of the sun, “This is your problem, Price. You think our treasure is some kind of chest of gold but it’s not.” He walks towards Price, removing something from his pocket and then holds it out to him. A letter.

“This arrived for you yesterday, from Shepherd. Thought it was for me, sorry.” Graves commented, unapologetic. Price clenches his jaw but accepts the paper. He opens it up and there laid a single phrase: Keep it alive.

“He wants a mermaid?” Price says, taken aback.

Graves hums. “I suppose, how does that saying go? Not all treasure is silver and gold.”

At that. Price lets his eyes go back to you, the setting of the sun had you washed in a glow of warm tones, eyes still shut tight, head lolled to the side so he could see the crane of your neck and his dampened waistcoat clinging to your form.

You may not have been gold coins, but right there, you glinted in the sun like one.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Note: this was born from a hyperfixation/love for john price, the pirates of the carribean movies and mermaid aus, with that please forgive any inaccuracies with piracy and in general tbh (><). Hope you enjoy (^^)!!

Thank you sm for reading (^^) !! If you want to be notified for chapter 2, you can follow my page as I'll solely be posting fics <3 Much love for likes, reblogs and comments (><)

[00ops1e]

MY SHIRTS CAME IN THE MAIL

LOOK AT THIS AJDHSJAHAH. and only 15.55???? YOU BET OMG I HAVE TO BUY MORE

do i keep them like big as sleep shirts or should i try and crop/make a halter top out of one?? im a big pants little shirt typa gal so to wear out in public…… who am i kidding if i buy one for ghost and if i can find price i’ll absolutely cut one for wearing in my slutty lil outfits.

like this kind of top

PLEASE HELP DO I KEEP GETTING WHITE TOO??

etsy shop actually has hundreds of cod things, shirt quality not the best but you get what u pay for

shop link-https://www.etsy.com/shop/STAYOKBRAND

[bigfathoe4you]

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Preface:

My zombies are not dead, they are infected with a disease which makes them hungry, they are not decomposing or mindless, they are driven insane by the pain of hunger and the things they’ve done so in a sense they die. They are loosely based on a book called ashes by Ilsa J. Bick, a very good angsty zombie book with very little romance.

This fic is set in the north west of England, to make it plausible for the MC to stumble upon the 141. Being Scottish myself I would love to make the MC Scottish and move the fic to the highlands, but I want some feedback on that.

TW: Death of a friend/sister, skinny reader (she fattens up), a lot of gross descriptions of zombies and death, angst lots, smut in later chapters.

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If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from living 6 years in a zombie apocalypse it’s “waste not, want not.” That was the thought that kept me from gagging at the smell of the jacket that I shook rotten skin off of. Rising I looked down at the skinny, pale ‘woman’ I’d pried it from. had she done the same? How many people have died in this jacket? Would I die in the cold, spend years wandering, Killing others, feeling a deep painful unending hunger?

I looked down at her failing body, before the fall of humanity these jeans would have been 2 sizes too small, the shirt about 3 or 4. I’d lost all shape, hadn’t had a period in years, my skin looked a shade darker thanks to the many layers of dirt that clung to me. I once took pride in my appearance, now my crowning achievement was surviving for this long by myself.

Taking one last sweep of the shop I found a grey eyed boy, looked about 19, his cheeks sagged and the bags under his eyes were bulging, purply red. His pale cheeks were littered with peach fuzz and tear stained, his nose a pudgy red from his quiet sobs. He groaned in pain as he pulled a skinny rat apart, sucking on the small bones. He looked up at me from his crouched position and growled, his primitive brain deciding if he should run with his meal or if he could take me. He twitched his way to his feet dropping the rat at his feet.

Before his skinny legs could take him to me I’d pulled the gun from my waistband and shot a few small holes through his chest. He let out some muffled whimpers as he crumpled to the floor, I followed him to the floor. I had grown to feel very little but when they looked so young it hurt. I stroked his thinning hair and shushed him whilst he hacked up blood and shook.

The trek back to base was long but quiet, the marshy ground of the north west sucked my feet deep into the ground, the ‘suctiony’ sound that emitted from dragging my feet drowned out my own thoughts. As the base came into view my steps hurried, eager to get inside, it was tuesday (possibly) which meant it was my allotted bath day, due to the difficulty of moving the water from the various rain collectors and the calories it cost, I allowed myself a bath every two weeks. 

The hard metal door bit at my reddening fingers as I fumbled with the keys, reminding me I needed to organise them somehow. I huffed at the effort it took to pull the second interior door open and closed, it had been ripped off its hinges and now scratched across the cold linoleum as I dragged it about. When I finally got inside I relocked every door I walked through to get to the innermost rooms of the base. Whilst people were rare- some zombies in the early stages retained the ability to open and close doors. 

I went to the woodburner and warmed the deer from the outdoor freezer. Most livestock like cattle and sheep were almost hunted to extinction by the zombies but some animals like deer and rabbits remained too fast for zombies. But not me and my gun. I cooked the whole leg, I’d refreeze the tougher bits and keep them for on the go.

Whilst the deer cooked I used my pot to boil some water for my bath. It was more of a sponge bath really, getting fully naked and into a slippery tub was inviting trouble. I used some watered down fairy liquid and an old PT (psychical training, yeah I did cadets so I’m qualified to tell you all about it) shirt to scrub at my skin, one limb at a time.

I pulled one leg out of my jeans leaving the boot and jeans scrunched so I could haul them back up if I needed to. And it was a good thing I did as I was picking dirt out of my scabby skinned knee, I heard a scrapping. My blood ran cold and I almost wept at the sound. 

Scrambling to put my jeans and boots back on. With each creak of a door opening and closing and the low raspy voices of men my hands shook more. 

And when I heard the noise that I knew to be the particularly squeezy door to the room I’d claimed as my own, I almost turned the gun on myself. There were at least 2 men and they knew there was a woman living here.

Steeling myself and setting my footing I readied myself in the middle of the room, no hiding the only power I have is I am pointing my gun at the single door to this room.

The kitchen door moved to open easily and a silhouetted figure pulled every shadow from the room and they pooled at this man's feet, he stood easily a foot taller than myself. The imposing figure took up almost the entire doorway. Although there were no shadows, it was only him, he dressed all in black, tactical gear and a dark balaclava covered his entire being. This man may be death itself.

“Fuck off.” A man wriggled around ‘death’ “Nae way!” barreling towards me a man not as tall as ‘Death’ but just as large wrapped strong arms around me.

My plans crumbled and I lost any ability to remain calm or strong were lost to me. “Please! Please there are guns, ammo, food! If you leave me alone I- I’ll tell you where” the words were choked out of me and my sweaty hands shook looking for my gun. 

The man pulled back but I couldn’t see through the tears that blinded me “It’s- It’s me Johnny” the voice and name were familiar. Strong hands snaked up my arms and held me at my shoulders “oh, darlin’ we’d never hurt you” he put a hand on my cheek and slowly brought my eyes to him. I almost gagged on my tears looking at him, my best friend's older brother, I looked at him and saw her. Alex, my other half, our whole lives attached at the hip, her death had hurt more than any of the rest. 

“Oh Johnny, I’m so sorry” his excitement at seeing me faded to the most hollow I’d ever seen a man. We sank to our knees together, forgetting the man in the doorway. I pushed our brows together “It was quick, I did it” I whispered to him, as I saw the small tears slip down his cheek. 

xx

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Tags:

@audie-writes

[charm6997]

That man would make those look stunning even with a bit off hanging out 😶‍🌫️🥲😮‍💨

Hear me out real quick

Price wearing one of those pink booty shorts that say “delicious” in hot pink glitter letters 🤭

-🫠

i’d smash

i mean what??? who said that ahahaaaaaaaa

[quoxal]

It's not the chair he's offering

[makarov-biatch]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8fYLfqU/

[karlachismylife]

https://www.tiktok.com/@saphirecorona/video/7426857576056245535 price edit <3

It's unbelievable how high my daddy issues spike when I see that man. Lik, I'm fine and I'm a big gorilla, but also can I please sit in that lap and see that smile directed at me please and thank you.

His ass tho. And thighs. I'm more into thighs I guess. But that ass. Goddamn to have him on his back and make love to him slowly but with visible strain cuz it takes a lot to conquer this man. Kiss the sweat off his forehead and to stroke his cheek while it happens. Get cuddled afterwards into the softness of his chest and tummy. Or to sit on the floor next to him, hugging his leg and resting your head on his thigh while you're watching a disappointing football match - so dull that there's nothing to be excited about.

My morning has been good thank you~