#Toxic! Captain Price

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material Ch 10 (Captain Price Fic) - THE DATE (FINALLY!!)

Chapter 1  Chapter 1 (Shorter Version) Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9  Chapter 11 (Last Chapter)

@darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal @marmaladespread02 @poohkie90 To the other’s who want me to tag you when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments) A/N: Well, look at you now—on a date with the Captain! No escape, I'm afraid! Is this going to be good? Bad? Or very good? (Spoiler alert: it's probably the latter... 😉) Find out below and brace yourself! LOL! Warning: side effects include excessive giggling, spontaneous squealing, and an undeniable urge to swoon. You've been warned! 😂

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John’s large hand remained firmly entwined with hers, his grip both steady and commanding. His palm was warm against her skin, and the strength in his hold left no room for argument—or escape. Despite her half-hearted attempts to resist, he led her through the crowded bar with an ease that made her feel as though she was being swept away, her protests as inconsequential as leaves in a current.

By the time they stepped into the cool night air, her cheeks were flushed, not from the temperature but from the mix of frustration and the undeniable charge in his presence. His hand tightened slightly, a silent reassurance—or a warning—that he wasn’t about to let go. The parking lot was quiet, the distant hum of passing cars the only sound breaking the stillness, but even that seemed to fade into the background as they approached his vehicle.

Her eyes landed on his 4x4, sleek and imposing in the dim light. The black paint gleamed faintly under the glow of the streetlamp, and the sturdy build seemed a perfect reflection of the man guiding her toward it.

“John,” she started, her voice laced with exasperation. “Can you at least—”

But her words were cut short as he stopped beside the passenger door and turned to face her. His broad shoulders loomed, casting a shadow over her smaller frame even in her heels, and she was suddenly reminded of just how tall and physically commanding he was. Her heart gave a little jolt as his free hand reached for the door handle.

Without releasing her hand, he pulled the door open with an easy grace. Standing between her and any possible escape, he tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes fixed on hers with that maddening mix of amusement and quiet intent.

“After you,” he said, his voice low and edged with something unspoken.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping in resignation. His unwavering determination, combined with the way he blocked any route of retreat, left her with little choice. “Fine,” she muttered, stepping into the 4x4.

The interior was as polished as she might have expected: clean, organized, and exuding an understated practicality. Her gaze swept over the dashboard, where a metallic tumbler sat snugly in the drink holder, its surface worn from frequent use. The faint glow of the touchscreen lit up as the vehicle came to life, showcasing a neatly curated playlist. A soft, earthy scent filled the interior—woody, warm, and slightly smoky, like the forest after a rainstorm mixed with the comforting heat of a fireplace. It was undeniably him, a scent that seemed to settle into the very air around her.

As she adjusted herself in the seat, the door shut with a firm click, enclosing her in his world. John rounded the front of the vehicle, his steps purposeful, and climbed into the driver’s seat with the same quiet confidence that had her pulse inexplicably racing.

He pressed the start button, and the engine rumbled to life, a steady vibration that seemed to echo through the small space between them. The low hum of the music filled the silence, and as he shifted into gear, she cast a sideways glance at him, her frustration battling with an undeniable curiosity.

The scent of him, the closeness, and the easy control with which he handled the vehicle—it was all too much, too intoxicating. He hadn’t just taken her hand back in the bar; he’d taken the lead, and now all she could do was follow.

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As they drove, she realized she still had no idea where John was taking her. Any attempt to ask was met with a hum, a grin, or one of his teasing comebacks that seemed designed solely to get under her skin.

She found herself staring at him, her thoughts drifting. How long had it been since she’d been intimate with anyone? A decade? Maybe more. Her gaze lingered on him—handsome, rugged, and undeniably sexy. But then, her mind turned cynical. Men like John were all the same, weren’t they? They wanted one thing, and she knew it.

Not that she minded. A man like John Price was as good a candidate as any. Sex with someone that attractive couldn’t be all bad. And with her... particular preferences, it could even be convenient. Anal, oral, fingering—it didn’t matter. She was technically still a virgin, and that was her secret to keep. A secret no one, especially John, needed to know. Maybe he’d even prefer it this way—no messy entanglements, no risk of pregnancy, no scares.

The thought crystallized in her mind, and before she could stop herself, she made the offer.

“John?”

“Mmm?” His hum was low, his attention fixed on the road, though his lips twitched in that insufferable smile.

“If I have sex with you, would you stop this silly act of courtship and dating?”

His head turned toward her, his expression shifting as his eyes darkened. The car slowed to a stop at a red light, and he leaned against the steering wheel, studying her with an intensity that sent heat rushing to her cheeks.

Her confidence wavered, but she pressed on. “We could get a room, you know?” she purred, her hand daring to slide over his thigh, testing the waters.

“Mmm.” His raspy voice was all he gave her, a sound that was neither agreement nor denial, as he turned his attention back to the road.

She leaned back, interpreting his silence as a quiet acceptance of her proposition. Yet, somewhere beneath the surface, she couldn’t shake the faint sting of disappointment. Perhaps she was right, after all. Men like John always wanted the same thing.

The drive turned quiet, save for the soft hum of the vehicle and the occasional glance John threw her way. She swallowed hard when they pulled into the drive of a boutique hotel nestled near Hampstead Heath. It was the kind of place that exuded quiet luxury, the kind she’d never have chosen herself.

Her pulse quickened. This was happening. But she had made her choice, hadn’t she? Might as well go along with it and enjoy the ride.

John stepped out of the 4x4 and rounded to her side, opening the door with that maddening confidence of his. Without a word, he reached for her hand, his warm, strong grip wrapping around hers, leaving no room for argument. He helped her down and, just as before, his large hand stayed entwined with hers as he led her forward. His other hand still clutched her bag, a silent reminder that escape wasn’t an option.

They entered the hotel, its lobby a serene blend of polished wood and ambient lighting. As they approached the reception desk, she tugged slightly at his hold. “John, hand me my bag or open it. They’ll need an ID…” she muttered, glancing toward the check-in counter.

He didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t even slow down, his grip firm as he strode past the reception desk without so much as a glance in its direction.

Her brows knitted in confusion. What was he doing?

The answer came soon enough. John steered her toward the hotel’s restaurant, its warm glow spilling into the lobby. A host greeted them with a welcoming smile, and John’s deep voice cut through her bewilderment.

“Table reservation for Jonathan Price.”

“Ah, yes! Right this way, Mr. Price,” the host said, retrieving two leather-bound menus before motioning them to follow.

She blinked, her confusion giving way to a mix of relief and irritation as the pieces fell into place.

Upon reaching their table, John pulled out a chair for her, she sat down, her eyes sweeping across the restaurant. The space had a warm, rustic charm, with dark wooden panels lining the walls and framed artwork adding personality. Exposed beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and an ornate chandelier cast a soft, inviting glow.

Tables were set with flickering candles, creating an intimate atmosphere, while cushioned benches along the walls offered cozy seating options. In the center, a polished wooden bar stood as the focal point, its shelves stocked with an impressive array of bottles. The soft hum of quiet conversation and the clinking of glasses completed the scene, making it feel welcoming yet refined.

It was the kind of place you could easily lose yourself in—whether in good food, good company, or something more.

John took the seat adjacent to hers, murmuring a polite thank-you as the server handed them their menus. He quickly scanned his, his eyes darting over the options with practiced ease.

She narrowed her gaze at him, skepticism laced in her tone. "Weren’t you supposed to take me to bed? You know, you didn’t have to butter me up with dinner first."

John’s brow arched, and he slowly closed his menu, his piercing eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her gulp. He sighed, the sound more weighty than annoyed.

"I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, Y/N," he said firmly.

Her response came quick and sharp, laced with playful incredulity. "Oh, so you want to be ‘friends with benefits,’ then?"

John blinked, his exhale turning into a laugh despite himself. "No!" he exclaimed, shaking his head as if trying to dislodge the absurdity of her suggestion. "What is wrong with you?" His voice was lighthearted, but the exasperation was clear.

"You’ve really put me in a box, haven’t you?!" He let out another sigh, this one tinged with reluctant amusement. "No, I want to do this properly—this silly thing you call courtship and dating." His hand gestured as though he were spelling it out for her. "I don’t just want sex; I want all of you."

He looked at her, his face caught between a smirk and a frown, as if he couldn't decide whether to laugh at her or be offended by the entire exchange.

Upon hearing John’s words, Y/N froze. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell slightly open in surprise. It wasn’t the first time someone had claimed to want her, but experience had taught her to expect disappointment soon after. Yet, there was something in the way John Price said it—calm, steady, and unflinchingly sincere—that felt undeniably different.

She bit her tongue, her lips pressing together as if to keep her thoughts from spilling out. Instead, she glanced down at her menu, finding its polished pages suddenly very interesting. She had been here before, in this liminal space of hope and uncertainty. If John’s actions didn’t match his words—if this thing they were trying didn’t work out—it would be a letdown she didn’t want to think about.

Y/N let out a soft sigh and mentally braced herself, forcing the flicker of vulnerability to the back of her mind.

John, however, didn’t miss her hesitation. His perceptive gaze softened, and he reached across the table, his large hand enveloping hers. His warmth was immediate, grounding her in a way she didn’t expect.

"Y/N?" His voice was low, a thread of concern woven into it.

"Yes, John?" she replied, her voice quieter now.

"Is there something the matter?"

"No, no... it’s nothing," she said quickly, brushing off his concern with a weak smile. She gestured toward the menu, eager to redirect the moment. "Let’s just order."

Dinner began with appetizers—crispy buttermilk fried chicken and delicate mushroom tempura. The rich flavors seemed to mirror the gradual softening of Y/N’s demeanor as John coaxed her into conversation. He started with simple, light-hearted questions: her favorite color, film, book, and other personal quirks.

By the time the main course arrived—a beautifully slow-roasted beef served with gravy and Yorkshire pudding—the ice had melted completely. Their dialogue deepened, revealing surprising commonalities: shared interests, aligned values, and even a few obscure hobbies they both enjoyed. Y/N found herself genuinely enjoying the exchange, caught off guard by how much they had in common.

When dessert was still being prepared, she surprised him further by ordering a specific whisky, neat. The amber liquid arrived in a crystal tumbler, its smoky aroma wafting gently through the air.

"You fancy whisky?" John asked, raising an intrigued brow.

Y/N grinned, swirling the drink lightly in her hand. "Ah, yes, of course! I’m a collector. I bottle samples, sell them, sometimes even trade with other enthusiasts." She took a small sip, savoring the warm, peaty burn that followed. "Want to try?" she offered, holding the glass toward him.

John blinked, clearly not expecting this from her. “A petite lass like you? A whisky connoisseur? Didn’t see that coming.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

"Why not?" she teased with a playful smile.

“Maybe another time,” he replied, his tone teasing but resolute. “I’m driving, remember?”

She chuckled and nodded, amused by his restraint. “Fair enough. Another time, then.”

By the time dessert arrived, the conversation had evolved into shared laughter, punctuated by their stories and jokes. The warmth between them felt natural, as if they had known each other for far longer than a single evening.

John leaned back slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "You look like you’re actually enjoying yourself."

She giggled, shaking her head as she wiped a stray tear of laughter from her eye. "Unfortunately, it does seem to be the case."

He leaned forward then, his expression softening as his fingers toyed absently with the edge of his napkin. “You know,” he began, his voice low and deliberate, “I said I’d leave it at just one date if you weren’t enjoying yourself... but I don’t think I can let it be a one-time thing now.”

His blue eyes locked onto hers, their intensity sending an unsteady rhythm through her chest. It was as if he could see straight through her, catching the flicker of warmth she had been trying to downplay all evening.

For a moment, she was speechless, searching her thoughts and feelings for clarity. Her gaze lingered on John, who watched her patiently, the sincerity in his expression unyielding. Finally, she let out a sigh, nodding slightly. "Alright," she said, her voice steady. "We can... exclusively date."

John’s grin widened with a boyish charm, and he gently took her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. The gesture was so tender it sent a flutter through her chest.

“Just so we’re clear,” she interjected, narrowing her eyes playfully, “we’re still in the dating phase. This doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship yet!”

A mischievous smile crept across his face as he held her gaze. “Oh, I know,” he replied, his tone teasing. But in his mind, the thought was resolute: She will be mine.

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After dinner, once the bill was settled and they left the restaurant, the shift between them was unmistakable. This time, she clung to his arm willingly, her hand looped through his, her posture relaxed. Her bag, which Price had been holding hostage all evening, was finally back in her possession—though it had taken a mix of playful convincing and shameless flirting on her part to retrieve it.

“Alright, alright,” he had relented earlier with an amused shake of his head. “Fine, take it,” he’d said with a mock sigh, handing it over. “But only because I’ve grown rather attached to it.”

“Should I be worried you’ll start carrying a handbag now?” she teased, her grin sly.

“Only if it matches my boots,” he shot back, earning a laugh from her.

As they strolled to the car, her head rested lightly on his shoulder, and her hand settled comfortably on his arm. The gesture was natural, easy, yet it sent a warmth coursing through him. John couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips, but he tried—poorly—to hide it.

When they reached the car, he opened the door with an exaggerated flourish. "Your chariot awaits, my lady," he said with a playful bow.

“Very dramatic,” she quipped, stepping in.

But when he leaned over to fasten her seatbelt, she batted his hands away with an exasperated laugh.

“John! I can manage a seatbelt, thank you!”

“Just being thorough,” he shot back, grinning cheekily before closing the door and circling to the driver’s side.

Once he settled in, he turned to her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So… are you going to tell me where you live, or am I supposed to play MI6 agent and figure it out myself? Not that I’d mind—it’s kind of in my wheelhouse.”

She rolled her eyes, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Alright, fine. I live in one of those old converted flats along the Thames.”

John drove her home, parking in the lot below her building before accompanying her upstairs. He insisted on walking her to her door, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets, exuding his usual calm confidence.

At the threshold, she turned to him with a playful smile, leaning against the doorframe. "Care for a nightcap, Commander?" she teased, her tone flirtatious.

John grinned but shook his head. “Tempting, but no. I’m not about to be seduced into your bed.”

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm, her laugh light and genuine. “That wasn’t my intention, Price!” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, flicking on the lights as they entered.

The space was inviting, a perfect blend of industrial chic and rustic charm. Though medium-sized, it was carefully designed, exuding warmth and personality. The living room featured a small, cozy fireplace, plush seating, and a curated mix of textures and tones that made it feel lived-in yet stylish.

Through a large open archway, her workshop was visible—a creative haven that clearly reflected her skill and dedication as an artisan. A sturdy table held drying clay projects, different tools hanging on the wall, with a turntable on one side and a kiln neatly positioned on the other. Another area was dedicated to glass and metalworking, with tools and materials organized with meticulous care. A desk featuring a large drawing tablet and monitor highlighted her work in design, seamlessly blending traditional craftsmanship with modern techniques. Every corner of the studio showcased her artistry, demonstrating her talent and attention to detail.

“Sit,” she commanded, guiding John to the sofa. He complied, watching her disappear through another arch that led to the kitchen. She returned moments later, holding a small sample bottle of one of her prized spirits.

“Try this,” she said, handing it to him with a smirk.

John raised a brow, uncapping the bottle and giving it a curious sniff. But before he could say anything, she added with a teasing grin, “And now, you may go.”

He stood reluctantly as she tugged at his arm, though he resisted just enough to draw out her efforts. “You’re heavier than you look,” she muttered, swatting his arm again when he chuckled.

She gave him a playful tug, leading him to the door, but when it swung open, she refused to release his hand.

John paused, turning to her with a quizzical look. "What is it now?"

"Really, Price?" she said, her eyes holding a teasing intensity, as if she expected more from him.

John raised an eyebrow and smirked. "What? Did I forget something? Should I be calling a cab for myself?"

Y/N sighed, standing on her tiptoes to plant a sudden, soft kiss on his lips. John froze for a moment, surprised, before his strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground and pulling her closer. Her hands instinctively moved to his shoulders, deepening the kiss as her heart raced.

They broke apart at the same time, their breath coming in short bursts. Y/N swatted him lightly on the chest, and he chuckled softly. She gave him a playful shove toward the door, and with a mischievous grin, closed it with a gentle yet firm thud against his face.

John stood outside for a moment, laughing under his breath, as the soft echo of the door closing lingered in the air, leaving him with a silly grin and a heart full of warmth.

John made his way to the elevator lobby, sighing contentedly as he glanced down at the small taster bottle of whisky in his hand. The kiss still lingered on his lips, and he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. He was practically glowing, already imagining the next date, his mind already plotting how to make sure she couldn’t possibly say no.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Oh, she’ll be mine. I’ll make sure of it."

His thoughts were a blend of determination and excitement, and already, he could picture the next move in his mind. The only thing left to figure out was how to make it as irresistible as tonight.

She may have closed the door on him this time, but John was resolute—she would be his, and he’d make sure of it. Not just for another date, but for something lasting, something real. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, imagining her rolling her eyes at his persistence. But he didn’t care. One way or another, she was going to be his partner—his forever.

A/N: Talk about sweet moments! John is just so thorough, so decisive—you don’t even know what hit you! 😏 The following chapter(s)… well, as promised, things might get a little sexy, spicy, and seductive. Hold on tight, it's just the beginning… and it’s about to get very interesting… because now, my dear, you’re officially at the mercy of John Price! 😈🔥

Edit: On to the last chapter!!!!! 😈🔥 ------->

[piggycyberwarrior]

Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you

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Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader) a/n: pretty proud of that ngl.. enjoy guys love you!

Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read

genre: ANGST

+ 1,6k words

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

You thought you were going insane.

Maybe you already were, but it was no suprise- seeing the circumstances you were in. Arms stretched uncomfortably backwards and up- chains rubbing your wrists painfully raw. The stress position Soap put you in wasn't easy peasy lemonsqueezy.

Tears brimming in your eyes at the thought. You felt fucking betrayed. You were fucking betrayed, for gods sake! by your own team- the people you cried with- the people that you loved more than yourself- the people you called your family. That one man you took a bullet for.

Fuck all that bullshit.

Those were the same people that didn't believe you when things got rocky. When some pricks pointed their fingers at you- they immediately treated you as an enemy. The same people that chained you up. The same man that made you fucking blind on one eye

Everything was a lie, apparently.

The cell you were in was shady- you didn't expect something different- i mean you just served the military for many years and did everything for your country- of course you didn't deserve something more decent.

In the end you didn't care. Just waited.

When Gaz interrogated you- you kept your mouth shut. What should you do? Lie? Fuck no, you had so much self respect left, even in this dehumanizing situation.

of course your facade broke often times- you were only human after all. And it hurt- you were in this situation before- tortured by your enemies knowing that you would probably outlive them anyway as your team would rip them apart in a few days.

But now- being here- seeing how your 'friends'- your family- spat at you with nothing more than hate made you feel even more miserable- knowing, that no one will safe you this time.

You cried- having panick attacks deep into countless nights-being triggered by any small sound that wasn't coming from you or that rat in the corner of the room. Yelling at them- telling them that you didn't do shit. They didn't believe you.

Spiraling deep in your thoughts- shoulders sore and numb hands from the stress position- still tasting a faint trace of your own blood-

the sensory of the dried up blood on your cheek was uncomfortable at the beginning- cracking everytime you opened your mouth- but it quickly got kicked to the bottom of your worries as Price's wodden bat flew into your face yesterday- tooth flying onto the ground as you spat the crimson liquid at his feet- earning another strike from your Captain.

Your Saliva turning pink with the blood, sticking to your chin- slowly dripping down- having no free hand to wipe it off.

.

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You were here for about 1 and a half weeks now- how'd you know that? because you could hear the guards mutter something behind that steal door.

You shivered, suffering from hypothermia, a consequence of being almost naked in this shithole. Simon himself stripped you down- ignoring your pleas and protests.

Simon.

The man you did everything for, took a bullet for, cared for and slept with. He was the love of your life- or so you thought.

You were never scared of Simon. Since the first day you met him- you were kinda drawn to that giant of a man. Always spawning in his near with hearts in your eyes- Soap always made fun of you- but he found it cute neverthless, he could see that Simon didn't hate you.

You stitched him up- knew his fears (being a therapists daughter was quite a help for having deep convos), you knew of his past- even if it took you years to finally break his many iron walls down

You saw his face- kissed his scars and showered him with your time and love- giving him your all- even your body.

You weren't in a relationship- but everybody knew that Simon 'Ghost' Riley liked you. Even if you didn't tell anybody from the Force.

In the end it seemed not be enough, as the same man nearly strangled you to death down here. At first you were desperate, scared- but you stopped pleading a long time ago.

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heavy footsteps shook you out of your trance- spiraling thoughts stopping for a mere second as you looked into his stone cold eyes.

Balaklava on his scarred face- making you inhale sharply- heart throbbing at his sight. The black paint around his eyes made them pierce through the dark even more.

The same paint you applied more than once onto his unique face. he looked beautiful in your eyes. Even after everything that happened.

You're in here since a few nights.- Clothes starting to hang loosely around your body- having not eaten in days.

"Simon-" you croaked out- voice not cooperating as it should- making you tear up. When did everything turned out to be like that? This nightmare? You flinched a bit- chains clinking softly at your slight movement when he came towards you- still not speaking.

He stared. Stared at your weak frame. The dark hole you were chained into- being in a constant state of fear- Anxiety pulling and clawing at your nerves.

You gritted your teeth- looking to the side with a defeated huff. Tears prickling in your eyes once more- threatening to fall as he watched you like you were a kicked stray dog. Maybe you were in their eyes.

"I-" you croaked out once more "I didn't do it, Simon, i swear" you whispered into the dimmly lit room- Still not looking at him. "I swear to god Simon, I didn't.." you weeped in silence as he just looked "Fuck why should I betray you!!" you screamed in frustration at his figure- tears falling as he only left- leaving you in complete darkness- letting you cry to yourself till you eventually passed out.

.

Not even two day passed before he bursted through the iron door again- the loud sound ripping you out of your unconsciousness before he angrily grabbed you by your collar- hate flickering in those eyes that once held nothing but adoration for you.

"You fuckin' liar" he seethed through gritted teeth- behind that mask. Pushing you into the wall behind you- your head knocking against the brick wall with such a force that made you wince.

You could feel his anger. And you felt the danger that radiated from the man you gave your heart to.

His hands coming up to press against your jugular with a firm grip- picking you up a few inches into the air- chains clinking again. "Y'think you hav' it in you to lie into my fuckin' face" he growled while pressing down harder- you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded- gasping for air- choking for oxygen.

"Plea' Simon" you begged inbetween small gasps- scared what he will do to you. Hands tied together, wiggling in his painful hold like a suffocating fish- legs kicking to get him away from you- it worked- you gasped, trying to get in as much air as you could while your built up saliva ran down your chin-

he let you go for a second before his fist collided with your face. Hard- knocking the air out of your lungs once more "Jus' tell us the truth" he huffed, before hitting again- at first it hurt and then it burned. Your nose cracked under his fists-

Making you see stars and breath heavily before he took the knife out you gifted him for his birthday. Both your names engraved in it-

"'t will be easier for you" he said before popping the knife out of its sheath. "No, Simon" you cried out- whilst seeing the blade. "You don't have to do this" you gasped as he came dangerously close.

"No,no,no!!" you protested as he teared down your clothing, leaving you in a bra and your underwear. Feeling helpless as he teared down your clothes- ignoring your protest. The coldness of the room let goosebumps arise on your skin almost immediately.

He was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. You waited- staring at him, pulling at your chains as he looked at the blade. Fist tightening as he saw the little heart that was engraved into the hilt. Betrayal flushed his senses as he pushed the knife into your upper leg- making you scream in return.

Twisting the knife- hearing your agony but not stopping- he quickly hit you into your left eye socket with the hilt of the knife to shut you up. he didn't want to hear your screams.

Even if he didn't wanted to admit it- he was also teared apart- but his need to let his anger out was stronger - all the time he spent with a fucking liar- gave you his fucked up heart. All for you to be a fucking snake- a traitor.

He had to do his job- protect his family.

Another jab to the eye- hearing your muffled cries echo across the room- making you see red- the burning sensation was an ugly one. You couldn't see on that eye anymore.

"I fuckin' wish I could just kill you" he seethed before leaving you there in the dark- all beat up and bloody- head throbbing and surely a broken nose- making it hard to breath.

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You waited since then. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for Ghost to end it- but of course he never came back since then. Your wounds were starting to inflame- everything hurt and burned. Your eye swelling almost shut.

They all tortured you. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon.

But they forgot something important. You were known for being patient. A fucking patient and stubborn woman. You waited. Yes you sometimes protested, and kicked and screamed and insulted them- but you neverthless waited for the day.

The day they finally see that they wronged an innocent. The day you would hurt them. Seek revenge.

Fucking. Revenge.

-

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[dumbbitchgalore]

This is what toxic!Price would do if he come home to see you lounging around that not taking care of the house (🌽 link)

John is absolutely furious with you.

His pretty little spouse should be cleaning and keeping the house clean while he’s away in deployment. Not make a mess of yourself and your home.

But nothing like a bit of training can’t fix.

He’ll hold your hair out of your face, bunching it into his fist as he fucks your mouth. Keeping a steady grip on the back of your head as to make sure you can’t pull away unless he wants you to.

Despite the gags and whine that leave your sore, aching throat, he most definitely doesn’t not give a fuck about your feelings and protests.

He’ll use every hole until he can finally get through your thick skull who you belong to and what you’re good for, possibly having to call in reinforcement if you still continue to act up.

[pazza-di-te]

ToxicHusband!Price thats bit of scumbag

He invited his boys to watch the football match this season and your task?

Serve him and his boys beer while you look pretty in the team shirt he made you wear.

Only rule the boys follow?

Look all you can but don't touch.

"Bring me another can, ye luv?" He pats the side of your thigh as his ring glints with the shine from the tv

"'Course John,' you smile as you stand up from his lap, heading to the fridge, but as your feet touch the floor, you squel when a sudden pressure on your arse surprised you.

You turn back and glare over your shoulder at the culprit, also known as your husband. He better be thankful you love him. You huff when the only thing you see is him giving you a sly smirk and a playful wink, and with that, you continue on your way to the kitchen.

As John relaxed against the couch again, you didn't notice the stares of his mates. His smile widens as he looks over the boys, and their eyes gaze upon your ass just peeking under the shirt.

"Lucky bastard." Johnny huffs and John silently agrees.

[ghostlycod]

oh won’t someone write an olderboyfriend!price x inexperienced!reader but reader’s not a virgin, she’s actually been with one guy before, but it was her asshole ex that treated her like shit and didn’t give a fuck about her during sex, never got her off, never even cared. treated her like she was nothing special at all, honestly kind of had to coerce her to get her to do anything for him by the end of their relationship, and that made her hate having sex so much she never really wanted to do it again— but then there’s olderboyfriend!price and he’s so hot and he’s patient and he’s kind but mostly he’s hot and he takes his time getting her to open up to him, teaching her pleasure with his fingers first, then his mouth, working her up and teasing her until she’s begging him to use his cock on her and fuck her the way a pretty girl like her deserved to be fucked the whole time.

he gives the best aftercare too (something her ex definitely never did). cuddles, soothing words, preparing a warm shower for her and laying his clothes out on the bed for her to wear after, making her favorite meal to eat, eating it as they lay together on the couch in his finely decorated apartment to watch one of the old shows he’s been dying to show her.

[mactavishenjoyer]

Price:"Nikolai is off limits!"

Ghost:" your affair partner is off limits but not your husband?"

Price:"yes, because he can't keep his dick in his pants."

Mactavish:"says the bitch that opened his legs first."

Price:"and that's why your boyfriends are dead."

Roach:"we're alive?"

Price:"wait."

Ghost:

Roach:

[konigsblog]

Orla :(( toxic!dadbod!Price comeback when?? I'm so down and so depressed and I need that mean old bastard to feel something

toxic-dadbod-price, one of my favourite concepts on this blog :33 (anon, i hope you feel better soon, take it easy !!!) 🫂

now, we all know that toxic-dadbod-price isn't the sweetest person ever. he has a toxic personality, he can be vindictive to those who've wronged him, holds grudges and knows how to use manipulation to get whatever he wants. being retired from the military, he spends the majority of his time jerking off on the couch, drinking beer, smoking inside the house and watching the football at six o’clock in the evening.

he's not oblivious though, he notices how you're down lately, spending a large chunk of your time in the bathroom, sat in the bathtub, foamy and bubbly water as you think. you feel weak, mentally. you can't bring yourself to do the simplest of things, and all you want is the softness of your husband's chest to rest against at nighttime.

of course, price can be bitchy when he's drunk; pushing you away and rolling over, snoring without having a shower, dirtying your freshly clean sheets. you always find yourself inching closer at nighttime, ‘til you're sobbing in your sleep against his brute, fat and musky chest, and your horrible husband is now playing with your hair, half asleep with a cigar between his teeth, puffing away at the lit, burning cigar.

it's not that he cares – don't get it twisted, love – he's not the kind, sweet man he once was, but he'll convince himself to wipe your tears with the harsh, calloused skin on the back of his hand, watching you sleep peacefully, already picking up a bottle of beer from the bedside table and cursing about how you're practically holding him down as you use his chest as a pillow, just what you wanted.

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Prince Charming

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ADULT CONTENT. 18+ NSFW, cheating

Summary: When you met him you thought you were the luckiest girl in the world...oh how wrong you were.

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I swear it started so cute...I don't even know what happened.

You got lucky that night, or so you thought.

The sun had just set, and the air was heavy with the smell of wildflowers. You had gone out for a drink with your best friend to get over your recent breakup and had ended up in a bar. It was loud enough to muffle the sound of your sorrows, the low chatter and clinking beer bottles a comforting distraction. You took a sip from your drink, eyes sweeping chaotically until they met Price’s. He sat on a stool at the bar, the light glinting off his brown hair as he laughed at something one of his friends said. His broad shoulders filled out his shirt perfectly, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest at the sight of him. As he turned his head, his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.

He made his way over to you, seemingly undeterred by your friend’s warning look. He leaned closer as he spoke, his breath hot against your ear. “I didn’t mean to stare, love— But I couldn’t help it,” he said, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Can I buy you another drink, darlin’?”

The playful rise of his eyebrows suggested that he’d already won this battle.

He was charming, handsome, and had an air of confidence that you found irresistible. Everything he said and did seemed calculated to make you smile. It wasn’t long before you were in your bed, feeling the pleasant weight of his body covering yours.

His body had a strong foundation, a soldier’s physique that was beginning to soften with age. His abdomen carried a layer of flab, but his legs were still toned and muscular from years of military training, his scars a reminder of his bravery and resilience. You traced your fingers over them, feeling the bumpy texture beneath your skin. He hummed contentedly, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he nuzzled into your neck.

“You feel bloody amazing, darlin’,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy on your neck. You shivered in response, your body arching up to meet his. His hands roamed over your body, mapping out every curve and dip as he explored you. Each touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you moan softly.

Price grinned at your reaction, his eyes darkening with desire. He leaned in to kiss you, his tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours. You tasted the faint tang of whiskey on his breath, which only added to your arousal. He pulled away from the kiss, trailing his lips down your throat and over your breasts. Every nerve ending sang out in welcome as he nibbled and licked his way across your ribs. At last, he paused at your breast, blowing gently on one nipple before giving it a quick flick with his tongue. You moaned when he took it between his teeth, gently grazing your flesh while squeezing your other breast in the opposite hand.

His laugh was deep and throaty. It echoed deeply through your chest; the vibrations warm like heated skin as you begged for more. “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you, darling?” he said, his voice filled with admiration and lust. “Let’s see how long this can last.”

His hands were firm and unrelenting, and his mouth was even more insatiable, sucking and nibbling on every part of your body. He left not a single inch untouched.

He brought you to the brink of orgasm, only to leave you hanging as he shifted his attention somewhere else. He seemed to know exactly what you wanted; it wasn’t long before you were clawing at his shoulders, begging for more. His tongue flicked across your clit, tracing delicious swirls of shivery sensations up to your belly button. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open as he artfully explored you.

The only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing and the wet sounds of his tongue. Everything else faded away as you were submerged in pleasure.

“That’s it, love, moan for me.” He murmured. His tongue dipped inside you, feeling the tight walls of your pussy as he licked you. His hands pinched your nipples, the sharp pain making you arch your back even higher. He pinched harder, and you heard the muffled smack of his lips as he continued to lick you. His beard scratched against your thighs as he licked and sucked and nibbled on you, every little sensation amplified by your growing orgasm.

“Please...” you begged, your voice soft and low. His touch was relentless, pausing only when he sensed that you were about to come. He pulled away from you, and you nearly cried out in frustration.

His gaze hungrily devoured your shape with each passing second, and a smouldering heat burned in his chest as he observed you. His eyes roamed from head to toe, leaving a blush that crept up your skin like fire.

“so fukin’ beautiful,” His voice was rough, his breathing shallow.

You writhed and twisted, bucking your hips up off the bed. Every lick of his tongue, every sip he took from you sent pleasure rippling through your body, erasing conscious thought and replacing it with primal urges. You were panting and shifting beneath him, desperate for something to bring you over the edge. He was taking his time, his actions precise and practised as he brought you to the highest peak. His hands roamed your naked body; he grabbed your thigh, spreading your legs to slip between them and settle between your thighs. The rough skin on his fingers scratched against your inner thighs and made you shiver in delight.

You found his lips again and entwined your fingers in his hair as you kissed him, tasting the warmth of his tongue. He moaned softly as he reached down to guide himself inside you. You parted your lips in a gasp as he entered you; he was so thick that it almost hurt to take him all at once. You tightened your grip on his hair as you bucked your hips to meet his. You wanted more; you wanted him deeper. He was teasingly slow in the beginning, pushing into you inch-by-inch, savouring each breathy moan that escaped your parted lips. You could feel him twitch inside you with every gasp of pleasure shuddered through your frame. Though as soon as your inner walls started to tighten around him, he would either slow down or come to an abrupt halt, whispering “Not yet” against the skin of your neck, his voice low and gruff. You whined in response, squirming beneath him as he held you still. “I’m not done yet.”

He pinned your wrists over your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he started to push deeper into you. “You feel fuckin’amazing, darling,” he said, his laugh full of lust.

It started as a casual thing, but you kept going back for more. Every time you saw each other was like the first time, his gaze piercing your soul. He brought out your desire to please him and made you feel valuable. You found yourself staying up late at night waiting for his calls just to hear his deep voice telling you how beautiful you were. He was so gentle, always there to make you smile. He made you feel safe. Price was the kind of man you needed to keep you grounded when the world was too much and the only guy you had ever loved.

He loved to take you away for spontaneous escapades, exploring remote natural beauty. But on days when that was impossible, the two of you have settled into a routine of languid lovemaking on the lumpy old couch in your cramped apartment. As you watched TV, He would slip his fingers down your body, between your thighs. You would let out a soft sigh as he teased you, brushing his fingers against your sensitive clit. You would twitch and shift as warmth spread through your abdomen. He would slowly start to play with you, finger you as you curled up into his chest.

“You feelin’ alright, darlin'?” He asked quietly, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

“Mhm.” you hummed, pressing closer to him.

“Do you wanna cum?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good girl.” For some reason, hearing him say that sent a rush of pleasure through your body, making you clench around him.

“Shh… Just enjoy it,” he cooed, toying with you.

You loved watching him as he pleasured you, his eyes heavy as he focused on thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

You always made sure to be good for him, to be as loud and vocal as you could. The more you wanted him, the louder he would growl in response. He loved it when you begged for him. He loved it even more when you sang his name. Then he would lean down to kiss you. You would feel his beard tickle your neck as you moaned into his mouth, clinging to him. He would smile when you came, his lips stretched across his teeth, his eyes closed, and his eyebrows raised. He would whisper “good girl” again as he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean.

After a while, your eyes would drift closed, your smooth legs rubbing up against his hairier ones and his heartbeat against your cheek. His low voice was like a soothing lullaby, whispering reassurances of how much you meant to him, helping you relax and drift off.

Even if not exceptional, those moments were so intimate to you that he made you feel like the only woman in the world. It would get cold in your tiny house, and he would slide closer to you, wrapping his big, warm body around you and protecting you from the cold. He could make you feel so safe, so happy.

You belonged to him.

Your life felt complete when you were by his side.

As the months moved on, the leaves had just begun to change colour, ushering in the chill of autumn. The weather turned colder, and you resumed your job teaching at the kindergarten. It was a Monday afternoon, and you were sitting at your classroom desk, dressed in a red cardigan and skirt despite the chill in the air. It was raining outside, and the window gave you a glimpse of the cold grey clouds and the torrential rain. You looked around the bright room, walls painted in bright colours with an exuberant richness characteristic of the kindergarten. Your hands were in constant motion - twirling a black pen with a silver tip between your fingers and tapping it against the yellowed pages of your notebook. The cool plastic felt reassuring as you anxiously waited for Liam’s parents to show up. He was one of your new students; he had bright green eyes and a contagious laugh that always made you smile. You were glad to have him in the classroom, where his happy presence seemed to fill the whole room. The red numbers on the clock seemed to move with a heavy reluctance, ticking along in agonisingly slow minutes.

Every passing moment was punctuated by the sound of your shifting body against the cool metal chair until, finally, two hours later, you heard heavy boots echoing down the hallway, followed by a woman’s heels against the linoleum. There was a hushed argument in the hallway; you could hear them arguing but couldn’t make out their words.

The door opened slowly, and a slim, graceful woman stepped through. She wore an artfully tailored black silk blouse that clung to her curves and a pencil skirt with bold lines that showed off her slender figure. Her every movement was delicate yet stylish, like she’d just stepped out of the pages of a magazine.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” the woman said. “I apologise for the delay, but a few urgent matters came up at the last minute. I’m Tina.” Her voice was smooth and polished.

You smiled and shook her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her husband’s tall and sturdy figure entered the room, his broad chest straining against the green shirt he wore. He had on a set of camouflage fatigues and dog tags dangling from his neck.

Your breath caught in your throat as you met his eyes. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly composed himself.

“This is my husband, Liam’s father.” She paused for a moment and smiled slightly. “John, John Price.”

[underyourbedtoday]

Captain John Price as your emotionally-unavailable-but-weirdly-devoted-to-you-but-not-enough boyfriend that feels more like a situationship than a relationship because he never placed you high enough

Anyway I think I might write this

[andromeda-pleiades]

A Married Man

Cw // infidelity, cursing, brief alluisons to torture, pregnancy

A/N : Probably Ooc Price, idk. I feel it's a tad bit realistic, but he is also very mean. also he has a wife. Also the reader is kinda mean, too

I've been scared before.

Scared when hostages don’t comply or respond to torture tactics the way they should. Nervous when I get hit enough times that my body screams. I get frantic when witnesses repeat the same grueling, unnecessary details completely unrelated to my questions. Wasted time was the difference between life and death.

I get scared, sure. But right now . . . I'm terrified.

I've taken five tests, all with the same result. I spent most of my midnight begging and praying that this was all a dream that I couldn't have messed up this bad.

But I woke up this morning in the same nightmare.

I've moved through my day roboticly, but now comes the moment my day has been leading up to. I knocked on my Captains door, the name plate taunting me, serving to remind me that I knew what I was getting into.

"Captain, I need to talk to you." I try to keep all emotion out of my voice.

He pauses his work and looks up at me, making me avert my eyes. "Talk about what exactly?"

"I'm so sorry, John, " As soon as the words leave my mouth, tears start swelling in my eyes. "I really thought we were being careful."

His brow furrows with confusion. "What happened?"

I had all day to prepare what to say but right now everything feels as if it's spilling out of a boiling pot. "I know you didn't tell your wife, and we were keeping it a secret, and I thought I was on birth control, but..." my throat burns and before I could say anything else I feel tears run down my face.

He stares at me his eyes burning into my very soul searching for the unspoken. "You got pregnant!?"

"I'm so sorry John. What are we- What do we tell your wife?

Silence

Silence so thick you can cut through it.

Then he stands taking of his hat and holding it in his hands. He lools at me as if he is in physical pain from this conversation.

"Are you sure that's my child?"

Wait.

What

Am I sure that's his- "Are you seriously calling me a whore John? Fuck, I knew we shouldn't have done this. I shouldn't have slept with you."

"You’re missing my point, love." He stares down at me. "There might be another reason for you being pregnant other than me. I’m not saying you’re a ‘hoe’, I’m saying I know you’re seeing other people. And you’re telling me that the child is mine?"

His face relaxes. This isn't how i imagine this to go maybe its my hormones, or maybe it's his stupid face, but everything about his demeanor is infuriating me. I stand up. "John, I've been sleeping with you and only you for five months now. I cut everyone else off because I wanted to I be with you. "

I feel restless as if the anxiety and anger running through my body can't let me sit still, so I start pacing his office. "I should have fucked gaz instead."

He remains unmoved by my rant. He stays cold, and actually stares me down, his expression slowly growing to anger.

"Do not mention Gaz in that manner."

"Why not? With the way he looks at me, I'm sure he would've jumped at the chance. But no, I had to sleep with the married guy." I throw my hands up in exasperated anger.

He steps towards me

"Do not think for even a second that he looks at you that way." He lowers his voice. "Nor is he the kind to sleep with an irresponsible woman."

Irresponsible woman??

Irre- "Irresponsible woman?!? Did you forget you came to me first? You slept with the irresponsible woman?"

He raises his eyebrows, letting a small smile yug at his lips

"I have not forgotten. But I know for a fact, I wasn’t the one trying to seduce a married, older man into an irresponsible relationship. That was you. A young woman who had no idea what she was doing. So, yes, you are the irresponsible one."

I look him in eyes and scoff at his audacity.

"But that's the thing, John, you are older than me and married, not to mention you're my CO. Im sure the higher-ups and your wife would love to hear how Captain Price was in an affair with his subordinate and knocked her up."

He laughs, this time a full-on, hard-as-nails laugh

"You’re threatening to blackmail me? That’s hilarious."

He takes a hearty step towards me.

"Your little plan of threatening me with my career and reputation won’t work, love. Because you know what they’ll do if you tell everybody about our affair? They’ll kick your ass to the curb, and you’ll be thrown out of the regiment."

I don't know how to explain the emotion I feel. Anger. Disbelief. Sadness.

I'm done.

" I can't believe I loved you, John. I don't know why I thought you were any different." I turn toward the door to leave this conversation in this room to never leave again.

"Don't worry about the baby or me because you'll never have to see us again."

Before I can leave the room, he puts his hat on and stands in front of the door.

"Love, where do you think you’re going?" His voice is still cold.

I try to cool my face into one of indifference.

"Captain, you don't even think the child is yours. This entire conversation shows that we aren't mature enough to raise a baby together."

I try to take a steay breath, but it comes out shaky. "I'm going to get a discharge and leave. Maybe I'll find a nice house where I can raise the baby and start a new job. "

I look him in the eyes, trying to show the meaning behind my words

"I'm not going to force you to be there for them... Captain."

Still, that isn't enough to make him move

"You’re not leaving, love. You’re right. I don’t know if the child is mine. But," His face softens, and his voice turns gentle. "I can’t imagine not being a part of this child’s life. And as your CO, love, I won’t allow you to leave without my say so."

"So what, Captain, what do you want me to do? Because we don't live in this perfect world where people don't ask questions."

" Listen, you can't be a part of my child's life and still live yours."

I take a step towards the door and, in turn him "Let me leave John"

He steps closer to me, his face just inches away from mine

"And why can’t I raise my child while still living my life, hm? What do you think I do at home? Stare at a wall?" He leans in even closer, brushing my nose with his, and whispers: "No, love. I can’t let you leave just yet."

"I think you go home to your wife, and I'm not sure she'll be too happy with you coming home with a kid." I whisper.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"And if, hypothetically, I was to divorce her, would that be a more better answer to your worries?"

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material Ch 11 (Captain Price Fic) - The First Time (SMUT, MDNI) Chapter 1   Chapter 1 (Shorter Version) 

Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6   Chapter 7   Chapter 8  Chapter 9 Chapter 10

@darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal@marmaladespread02 @poohkie90 @wizzdot @kurt-cockaine @massivescissorsthingperson @madsothree @azkza @noonespecial475 @jaeirwin14 and to everyone else I wasn’t able to tag (I tried typing the username it would not give the line that its tagged which makes me also unable to tag you (Waaah!!)) —thank you so much for sticking with me and reading along! Your support means a lot, and it’s been awesome seeing some of you follow along from the beginning. 💕 This chapter can absolutely be read as a standalone, as the dynamic between the characters has already been established and is pretty clear by now. So, feel free to dive right into this one without worry—everything you need to know about their relationship is already pretty obvious! 😉

A/N: After the Captain has finally wrapped you around his finger, you’ve been exclusively dating for months. And now? You’ve fallen hard. John? Well, he's just as bad—if not worse. Possessive, protective, delightfully ridiculous in his affection, and utterly smitten with you. When he asks you to be his partner, you can’t help but say yes. It’s everything you’ve been waiting for—for him to make it official.

And let’s be real; you know what that means, right? The intimacy? Oh, it came in full force. And let's just say, Captain Price? He didn’t hold back. He shocked you—in the best way possible—with everything he is... and everything he’s about to show you. 😏🔥

This is the last chapter for this series—this part—because the Captain has officially won you over and now he’s taking you! Woohoo! Saving the best for last, of course.

Smut warning: MDNI!

Moving forward, the story will continue as one-shots, but don’t worry—I’ll put together a masterpost to help you follow the timeline easily. So, you can jump in and out whenever you’d like!

(If you’re feeling a bit impatient and want to skip ahead to the action, go ahead and scroll down to the steamy bits—no judgment here! But just a heads-up, I wrote this with a slow build-up on purpose. I wanted the tension to simmer and the moment to hit just right when it finally comes together. So, if you stick with the pacing, I promise the payoff will be worth it. Oh, and the sex scene? It’s a little long, so there’s plenty to dive into when you get there. 😏)

----------

The question came unexpectedly, just as you were both enjoying dinner at a cosy restaurant, the low hum of conversation around you blending with the clink of glasses. You were sipping on a bottle of beer when he turned to you, that familiar smitten smile dancing on his lips, his blue eyes filled with warmth and mischief. He leaned back slightly in his chair, the edge of his voice taking on a teasing, raspy tone.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he began, clearly amused by whatever thought had crossed his mind, “you seem to like me enough—well, at least I think so, or you wouldn’t keep showing up, right?” He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “What do you say, love? Want to make this official with me?”

You nearly choked on your beer, laughter bubbling up from your chest as you tried to steady the bottle. “You really think I’d keep showing up if I didn’t like you?” you teased, eyes sparkling with amusement.

He raised an eyebrow, that playful glint in his eyes deepening. “I dunno, maybe it’s the eye candy,” he said with a cheeky grin. “I mean, no need to go to a gallery for a muse when you’ve got this walking, talking masterpiece right here. Makes life so much easier, don’t you think?”

That audacity. The sheer confidence of this man had you laughing so hard, you almost spat out your beer. You shook your head, trying to suppress your laughter, but his smug expression only made it worse.

“Alright, alright,” you said, finally catching your breath. “Yes, John. Let’s make this relationship official.”

He grinned wider, and there it was—that satisfied look of a man who knew he’d just won the best prize.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He said with a wink, his voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “You’re mine now, love. Officially.”

And with that, the evening felt a little sweeter, the air between you two charged with something more than just the fun of the moment. It was a promise.

---------

He walked you home that night, his arm draped comfortably over your shoulders, his imposing frame radiating warmth as he guided you toward your flat. You, in turn, wrapped your arm around his waist, savouring the familiar sensation of his solid presence beside you. His grin was wide and easy, matching the relaxed rhythm of your steps.

When you reached the elevator, your heart quickened. You’d both been dancing around this moment for a while now, and you could feel the tension building between you. But as you reached your door, he kissed you. Deeply. The kind of kiss that left your knees weak and your breath ragged. His lips were hungry, but there was a restraint, a subtle control in his touch that kept you both from going further.

He pulled back, his breath heavy but steady as he looked at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Not yet,” he said softly, his voice thick with understanding. “Not now. I want to make sure you're ready first, not rushing anything.” His tone was warm, full of consideration. He wasn’t forcing anything; he was waiting for you, knowing that when the moment came, it would be worth the patience.

You could hear the quiet confidence in his words, and despite the heat simmering between you, it felt right. He was taking his time, respecting the space between you, and you couldn’t help but admire him even more for it.

He kissed your hand gently before turning toward the elevator lobby, leaving your flat’s hallway behind. You stood there for a moment, sighing dreamily as the warmth of the evening lingered, then stepped back inside your place, unable to shake the smile from your face.

----------

By the weekend, something had shifted. Everything was official now, and it showed. John had dropped the restraint he’d been holding onto, and instead, he was... well, touchier. He couldn’t seem to stop stealing kisses, and his hands wandered with a confidence that had you laughing and batting him away. He didn’t even try to hide how much he enjoyed it. You weren’t complaining—you’d been ready for this.

When he took you back to his house, it felt like stepping into a warm hug. His place had this easy charm to it—clean but lived-in, with a cosy, rustic feel that made you want to sink right in. For someone with his background, it was unexpected. It felt like a safe little hideaway, just the two of you.

(John Price's Cottage Home) As you crossed the threshold, something in the air shifted. You didn’t need him to say it—you already knew exactly where this was going.

John crouched by the cast-iron fireplace, carefully arranging the logs before striking a match and coaxing the flames to life. The warm glow began to spill into the room, softening the edges of the rustic space and wrapping it in a golden comfort.

“Do you want tea?” he asked, glancing back at you. His voice was calm, grounding, as if sensing the nerves bubbling just beneath your surface. “Make yourself comfortable,” he added with a nod toward the cosy furniture.

“Sure, thank you,” you replied, offering him a small smile as you settled into the plush armchair.

It was the first time you’d been here as his partner. John had brought you to his home before, but this time was different—more intimate, more charged. You couldn’t ignore the tension thrumming quietly between you. You knew what was likely to come next, and the thought sent a cascade of conflicting emotions through you.

Sex.

Your fingers fidgeted lightly against the fabric of the chair. Could he really live up to it? You doubted it, not because of him but because of your own tangled past. You’d set your expectations low—safer that way. If you were honest, you weren’t sure you even remembered how to be truly intimate with someone anymore.

Technically, you were a virgin. All you’d ever allowed yourself was the illusion of closeness: keeping everything surface-level and out of fear. Fear of pregnancy, fear of repercussions from a family whose religious rigidity had been unyielding. The price for any perceived misstep back then would have been severe, and so you’d crafted an armour of restraint and avoidance. Even in those early, misguided attempts to hold onto love through sex, you’d only found pain—used, abused, and left to pick up the pieces of your battered self-esteem.

Eventually, you reached a breaking point. Therapy helped you heal and gave you the strength to start over. Since then, you chose celibacy, locking that part of your life away. It had been over a decade now, so long that you barely remembered what it felt like to be touched or to let go. Did it even feel good back then? Did it ever feel right? The memories had faded, becoming more distant over time.

Now, sitting here, a small chuckle escaped you—a mixture of nerves and disbelief. It wasn’t just the emotional weight of it all; you weren’t even sure if you’d remember how to be good at it. Could you even keep up? you thought with a wry smile.

A plan started to form in the back of your mind, simple and safe: focus on him. Maybe you’d just rely on what you did know—pleasure him with your mouth and your hands. Throw in a bit of creativity and a little showmanship, and it might be enough to let the moment pass without diving too deeply into uncharted waters. You tried to reassure yourself, though the thought of your jaw aching afterward wasn’t exactly comforting.

The fire crackled softly in the background, filling the quiet space between your thoughts. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel that John would see through it all—that he’d sense there was more to this moment than you were letting on.

"Love?" A deep, raspy voice, accompanied by strong hands on your shoulder, pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to find John, holding a steaming cup of tea.

"Ah, yes, thank you, John..." you smiled.

He made his way around and settled on the couch next to the armchair where you sat.

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small sample bottle of whisky—one you’d bottled yourself. The amber liquid swirled inside as you handed it to John with a playful smile. “Thought you might like to try this,” you said, your eyes glinting.

John raised an eyebrow, eyeing the bottle. “You’ve got good taste when it comes to spirits, don’t you?” He sounded impressed. “Glad to have an expert—and a collector—around. When did you start drinking like this?”

You chuckled, accepting the compliment with a grin. “Funny story… I was about twenty, maybe twenty-one. A friend from my SCO19 unit gave me this small bottle as a gift. I didn’t know much about whisky back then. I was just happy to get a gift.”

John leaned in, waiting for the rest of the story.

“I caught a nasty cold, sore throat, the works,” you went on, laughing at the memory. “I was miserable, sitting in my flat with this bottle. Didn’t think much of it, so I took a sip. And, well…” You paused for effect. “It was like drinking smoke. I ended up coughing up phlegm like I was trying to hack up my lungs.”

John burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Bloody hell, that’s one way to start.”

You shrugged, still smiling. “Yeah, not the usual introduction to whisky, but hey, it worked.”

You quickly added, “Sorry for the gross story,” though you were still laughing.

John laughed harder, his deep chuckle filling the room. “I didn’t expect that, but I like it.”

The laughter faded, leaving a comfortable silence. The tension had lifted, and it felt like the two of you were settling into a new, easier kind of closeness.

The conversation shifted towards dinner, and John glanced over with a raised eyebrow. "So, where do you want to go for dinner tonight?"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Dinner? We just had lunch, John. Shouldn’t we be talking about other things?"

John’s lips curled into a playful smirk as he arched an eyebrow. "Other things, like what? Teatime? Aye, we could do that. So, what do you want for tea, Y/N?"

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head in amusement. "No, I meant... what were we supposed to do?"

John’s expression softened, his teasing gaze giving way to something warmer. "Not when you’re not comfortable yet," he said gently, but with a firmness that made you pause.

You shook your head, a confident smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "But I am!" you protested, your voice carrying more certainty now. "I came here ready. I’ve had myself medically checked out," you added, locking eyes with him. "I even bought different sizes of condoms, just in case."

John’s laughter erupted, deep and genuine, his eyes glinting with admiration—and something darker. "Bloody hell, you really came prepared," he said, his voice low, a trace of amusement mixed with a hint of something more intense.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. "Would you prefer to be underprepared?" you teased, arching a brow.

John grinned, his body leaning in closer as the air between you thickened with a palpable heat. "No, love. But I didn’t think you’d be so... thorough," he chuckled, his hand brushing against yours in a subtle but deliberate gesture.

You met his gaze with a sly smile, daring him without a word. "You’ve got to be ready for anything, right?"

He nodded in agreement, a knowing look in his eyes. "Aye, absolutely," he said, his voice low. Then, with a playful glint, he suddenly pointed off to the side. "Oh, look, Y/N. Do you see that?"

You followed his gaze instinctively, but before you could register what he was pointing at, John closed the distance between you in an instant. You barely had time to react before his hands cupped your face, his touch warm and surprisingly tender. His lips met yours, soft and gentle, a kiss that was more like a quiet promise than anything urgent.

John pulled back just enough to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth, then one to your cheek, and another to your forehead. Each kiss was light, teasing, and sweet—nothing charged, just the quiet rhythm of affection that left you breathless in the best way.

You didn’t need to say anything; the moment felt perfect as it was, a gentle connection that spoke louder than words ever could.

You set your tea cup down with a playful smile, then swatted John lightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Before he could react, you shove him onto the couch nearby, sliding over to straddle him with a grin.

John chuckled, his hands resting on your hips as you both leaned in, kissing and teasing each other with soft nips and playful murmurs. The air between you both was warm, charged with a kind of lazy intimacy.

Pulling back slightly, John smirked, his eyes full of amusement. “We could spend the whole afternoon like this, you know. I wouldn’t mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I mind,” you teased, and without warning, you pulled your turtleneck sweater over your head, revealing the black camisole underneath.

Your camisole followed next, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Your curves revealed in a way that catches John off guard. He's always seen you in loose, shapeless clothes—who knew what you were hiding underneath? Your full figure surprises him, and there's a flicker of appreciation in his eyes.

You then begin working on his shirt, gradually unbuttoning it and pushing the material away to expose his sexy muscular physique. His skin is dotted with tattoos and scars, each telling a tale you want to learn more about. You lean back slightly, taking a moment to admire the view before continuing. Your fingers work on his belt, unbuckling it, then move to his pants, unbuttoning them with a deliberate slowness that makes the air between you crackle with tension.

Suddenly, John's large hands grip your wrists, his touch firm yet gentle. "Are you absolutely sure?" he asks, his voice laced with concern and a hint of something more.

You nod, a playful grin spreading across your face. You quickly slip his belt out of its loops, throwing it aside, then unzip his pants and draw them down.

His erection is clearly visible as it presses up against his boxer's material. You swallow as you take in the scene and realize how enormous he is. You have a brief moment of uncertainty as you consider how you're going to swallow him, but you immediately dismiss it. You can't help but laugh at the thought, and a few jaw aches are a minor price to pay. What better way to get a sore jaw than this?

John laughs, delight and excitement shining in his eyes. He teases, "I never really thought of you as aggressive," pointing to the way you've taken control and stripped him with such ease and confidence.

You slowly pull down his boxers, revealing his full thickness and length. You pause, your eyes lingering longer than you intended. His size, now fully exposed, is a vision of raw, masculine beauty—a 'monster' cock, thick, throbbing, veiny, and incredibly long. It's even longer than your head. Can this really fit in your mouth? You shake off the thought, determined to push through.

"John, sit up," you command, pulling him up. He obeys quickly, and you guide him to lean back against the backrest of the couch.

"Y/N, you don't have to do this if you—" he starts, seeing the hesitation in your eyes. But you silence him, sliding off the couch and kneeling in front of him. You grip his massive cock with your small hands, beginning to lick the tip while tugging and playing with his large balls.

He tilts his head back and groans, savoring the sensation and pleasure you're giving him. But you're not done yet.

You lift your breasts, wrapping his cock between them, and press them tightly together. The friction as you move your breasts up and down against his length, combined with your licking, nipping, and sucking, drives him wild. All he can do is watch you, grit his teeth, groan, and breathe heavily, completely at your mercy.

Wanting to push it further, you attempt to deep throat him, starting with half of his thick length already down your throat. Damn, he's big. You begin a steady bobbing motion, gradually taking him deeper and deeper. He tries to push you away, not wanting you to struggle, but you swat his hand aside, determined. Finally, you manage to take him fully, your mouth moving up and down his length slowly at first. Your mouth, jaw, and throat adjust to the stretch, and you pick up the pace.

John is a gasping, groaning mess, watching you intently. He restrains himself, his hand gently holding your hair as he gazes at your face, completely enthralled by the incredible blowjob you're giving him.

You feel his cock twitch in your throat, a sign he's close. Your eyes lock onto his as you continue to pleasure him, unyielding.

"Wait... wait... Y/N, stop, or I might just cum..." he pleads, trying to push you away, his hands gripping your shoulders.

But you're stubborn and relentless. You want to see this sexy man come undone.

You increase your speed, bobbing up and down his length, taking him deep into your throat. He can't push you off—the pleasure and your determination make it impossible.

"Y/N, wait... stop, I'm gonna cum soon if you keep this up..." he struggles to say, but you persist, unwavering.

He grips the nearby throw pillow with one hand, the other tangled in your hair. His hips buck uncontrollably against your mouth. With a primal groan, he climaxes, releasing down your throat. You swallow every drop, willingly. He gasps, catching his breath from the intense blowjob.

You release him with a pop, strings of saliva connecting your mouth to his cock. You lick your lips, a satisfied smirk playing on your face. "You're such a tasty treat, John," you purr.

He sharply sighs, still writhing and catching his breath, his gaze fixed on you.

You lean your head against his muscular thighs, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you gaze at John. He's sweaty and panting, his glistening muscles defining every contour of his body. It's a sight that's incredibly sexy to you.

You wish you could do more, but you know you've done your job well. You've given John immense pleasure, brought him to orgasm, and swallowed every drop. That should be enough to leave him spent, at least for a while.

But you're wrong. The moment John's eyes meet yours again, his strong arms lift you from your knees, pinning you down on the couch. He kisses you passionately, a bruising kiss that leaves you breathless. His hands knead your soft, full breasts, sending waves of pleasure through you. He trails kisses down your cheeks, jaw, neck, and collarbone, lingering on your breasts, nipping and licking like a man starved.

He swiftly unzips your midi skirt, pulling it down and tossing it aside along with the rest of your clothes, leaving you in just your leggings. In his haste, he accidentally tears them as he slips them off you.

"John!" you protest.

"I'm sorry, love, I'll get you another one," he murmurs, before capturing your lips again. He then hooks his fingers into your panties, sliding them down your legs to reveal your damp, eager core. A grin spreads across his face as he takes in the sight. You gulp, anticipating what's to come.

He buries his face between your legs, his tongue, mouth, and fingers working expertly on your clitoris. The sensation is overwhelming, and you melt in no time, panting and biting down on the nearby throw pillow to ground yourself as pleasure consumes you. John feasts on you like a hungry man, his tongue circling and flicking your clit with precision. He curves a finger inside you, pressing firmly against your G-spot, intensifying the sensation. The dual stimulation is almost too much to bear. You try to squirm away, the pleasure bordering on overwhelming, but John's strong grasp on your hips keeps you firmly in place. You have no choice but to surrender to the intense waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your body trembling with each skilled touch.

Your hips start to buck involuntarily against John's face, your body writhing as you lose control, soaring towards your climax.

"Joh-John... I'm... I'm gonna cum..." you manage to gasp out.

"Mmmm, then cum," he rasps against your clitoris, the vibration of his voice sending another jolt of pleasure through you.

You've never been eaten like this before—every sensitive spot attacked with precision. Pleasure and heat spread throughout your body, building to an intensity you can barely contain. You shake and buck uncontrollably faster against his face, your body on the verge of explosion.

John sits up, his tongue lapping at the juices around his mouth, his stare dark and laced with desire and longing. You bite your lip, unsure of how to react to the erotic display of him savoring your taste like it's the most delicious thing he's ever had. Your eyes widen as you notice he's hard again, his glistening cock erect and ready. You can't believe he's recovered so quickly after the intense release from the deep throat you gave him earlier.

"Now, I'm going to have you," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

Before you can even respond, he effortlessly swings you over his broad shoulder and carries you upstairs to his bedroom, your surprised gasps filling the air. He throws you onto his bed, your laughter echoing as he kicks the door closed. Grinning, he climbs on top of you, his imposing muscular frame covering yours.

He peppers sweet kisses on your cheek, the corners of your mouth, your jaw, and your neck, moving back and forth as his large hand plays with your breast, squeezing and kneading. He whispers dirty sweet nothings in your ear, "You taste so fucking good, love. I can't wait to be inside you, feeling you clench around me."

"J-John, can you get the lube downstairs?" you struggle to let out.

"Hmmm? What for? We can make you nice and wet naturally," he teases, his fingers finding your sensitive, swollen clitoris, circling it gently.

"Aaah!" you squeak, swatting his arm away, still sensitive and giggling. You turn your back to him, pressing against his chest and closing your legs. John, not having any of it, pulls you by the waist and kisses your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

"John, come on, we're gonna need that lube..." you ask again, as he continues his ministrations.

"What for? I'll just make you wetter, hmmm?" he teases, nipping the skin below your earlobe, a sensitive spot that makes you giggle and turn back around to swat him.

"John," you say, lighthearted but a little exasperated. "Listen to me... I am technically a virgin... I know you're already in the mood, and wouldn't want to waste time prepping to pop my cherry." You laugh, comfortable sharing this with him because he's proven himself to be a safe and trustworthy partner.

"What do you mean?" he asks, looking at you with a mix of shock and curiosity. The revelation that his partner is technically virgin, despite the incredible blowjob and the intimate moments you shared downstairs, catches him off guard.

"I need that lube, so you can have a good time while you take me at my back entrance... and yes, I mean anally. My back isn't exactly 'virgin'..." you admit sheepishly.

John gets up and stares at you intensely after that revelation, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. The thought of you giving this part of yourself to him, of being the first to have you completely, makes him feel primal. His face darkens with desire as he leans back in and kisses you passionately.

He whispers, "This pussy is mine, love. Mine to take, mine to pleasure, mine to claim. I'll be your first, your last, and your only. I'll make sure of it."

"You look so fucking beautiful, love, all undone like this. I can't wait to finally take you. I'll keep getting you wet until the sheets are soaked and you're ready to take me."

"Don't be silly, John, just take the lube downstairs," you say, struggling and gasping as he pleasures you with his large, long digits. "You're horny, no need to take your time."

He grins, his eyes gleaming with lust and admiration. "Watch me, love. Seeing you like this, losing yourself, is such a beautiful thing. I'll make sure you enjoy every second of it."

John pleasures you relentlessly, his fingers expertly rubbing your swollen clitoris in a slow circular motion before increasing the speed as you near climax. His other hand plays with your breast, squeezing and rubbing your nipple, adding to the pleasure and making you writhe. When you cum, he alternates, inserting two fingers into your entrance and curling them to find your sensitive spot, while his thumb rubs your clitoris again, pushing you further. You end up squirting and writhing against him, gasping and squeaking. John loves the display and repeats the process, playing you like an instrument, attacking your most sensitive spots repeatedly and relentlessly. Your body writhes, your eyes roll back, and your tongue lolls out.

"John... please... just fuck me..." you pant, overstimulated.

"Mmmm... let's get you wetter..." he whispers naughtily, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

"What do you mean wetter? My legs are wet, I've soaked the sheets! Ahhhh!!" you gasp.

John maneuvers you to face him and pushes you back down onto the duvet, taking in the sight of your sweaty, panting body. He bites his lip, the sight of you dripping with sweat and desire is incredibly sexy. He can't help but lean down and capture your lips in a long, passionate kiss. He trails his mouth from the corner of your lips to your cheeks, to your jaw, neck, collarbone, chest, and then to your breasts, where he sucks and nips at both nipples, squeezing them playfully. He continues down to your abdomen and then slides down to your wet, soaking core, where he playfully kisses your swollen clitoris.

Your eyes, which had been closed, open wide as you are overstimulated and sensitive. You quickly move your body and hips away from John's face.

"No, John, I just came!!" you protest, struggling to move backward against the duvet.

But John pulls your legs back to him and begins eating you out once again, his hands playing with your breasts. In a few seconds, you are a gasping, writhing mess, squirming against the duvet, your hips moving against John's mouth. You can't hold eye contact long with John, who is below, looking at you, watching your reaction as he eats you out. His blue eyes are too intense for you, knowing you'll cum again fast if you look long enough. The sensation is overwhelming, and you lose yourself in the pleasure, your body trembling with each skilled touch.

You feel the pressure building again, your body tensing as John's tongue and fingers work their magic. You can't hold back any longer, your body convulsing as another orgasm rips through you. You cry out, your voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.

"John!! Please, just take me, please!!" you beg, your body shaking with the force of your release. Your pleas are urgent, your need for him overwhelming. The intensity of your orgasm leaves you breathless, your body limp and satisfied, yet craving more of him.

John's gaze travels from your face down to your core, a playful grin spreading across his lips. "Hmmm? Still not wet enough..." he says cheekily, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"John!!" you let out, in protest. " Either let me have a moment, or I might just pass out," you say, your voice a mix of desperation and playfulness.

"Hmmm, I think you can take a few more... you know, before you pass out," he says playfully, teasing you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You sigh exasperatedly and grab a nearby pillow, throwing it at John. He catches it with a laugh and leans in to pepper your face with kisses, making you giggle despite your frustration.

His playful demeanor shifts as he grasps your chin gently but firmly, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. His other hand finds your breast, squeezing and teasing your nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You gasp into his mouth, but the sound is silenced by his tongue exploring yours, claiming every inch of you.

John's pelvis presses against your wet, sensitive core, his hard cock rubbing against you with a deliberate, tantalizing rhythm. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can't help but let out a soft moan, muffled by his relentless kiss. Your body responds instinctively, arching against him, craving more of his touch.

His kiss deepens, his tongue dancing with yours in a primal, hungry dance. His hand on your breast continues its torturous teasing, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your body aching for more.

John's cock rubs against your clitoris with increasing urgency, the friction sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel more of him. Your hips move in sync with his, your body begging for the release only he can provide.

You break the kiss, panting and gasping for air, your eyes locked onto his. The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming, a mix of lust, desire, and something deeper, something primal.

"Please, John, just fuck me already..." you beg weakly, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

John gives you a playful look, as if reconsidering. "Hmmm, but you're not wet enough yet," he teases, his voice laced with mischief.

You sigh exasperatedly, "Please, John, I need you..."

He sighs softly and leans down for a tender kiss before positioning the tip of his cock at your entrance. Slowly, he begins to sheath himself inside you. His length is thick and long, and he moves with careful consideration, worried about hurting you. You gasp at the slight, sharp stretching pain, despite your wetness, as he pushes in slowly.

He is trying to be considerate, knowing it's technically your first time being taken vaginally.

"Tell me if it's painful, I'll stop..." he murmurs, his voice filled with concern.

"Just push forward, John! Don't mind me," you say, gritting your teeth, your hands gripping his arms tightly, not letting him move back.

He slowly pushes in, his thumb rubbing your clitoris in slow circular motions to alleviate some of the pain. The dual sensation of his cock filling you and his thumb on your clitoris sends waves of pleasure through your body, mixing with the slight discomfort.

"John, no, mmmphh, don't rub, no, no, aaaahhh!!" you cry out, coming undone again, your legs shaking as his length moves a few inches deeper. "Jooohhnnn..." you whine, swatting his arm, but he chuckles and leans down for another kiss, moving deeper and deeper.

When he is finally all the way in, deep inside you, stretching you out, you gasp and pant, the sensation overwhelming. It's tight even for him, despite your wetness. John refuses to move, allowing you to get used to his size. He continues to rub your clitoris repeatedly, making you cum again, your body writhing beneath him as you adjust to his size stretching you out.

After a while, with a kiss, he pulls his pelvis back, his length retracting from your walls, only to push forward again, making you gasp. Your body is prepped and completely ready, the sensation of him moving inside you sending waves of pleasure through every nerve.

And so, he finally takes you, relentlessly, passionately. His pelvis moves tirelessly, his hips thrusting to please you. Your moans are muffled by his kisses, his weight pressing against you as he slides in and out of your warm, tight walls.

A knot forms in your womb, a pleasure unlike anything you've ever felt, building stronger and stronger. "J-John..." you struggle to let out, feeling yourself soar towards a powerful climax, something you've never experienced before.

John increases his speed, both his hands cupping your cheeks, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. His blue eyes, intense and filled with desire, make you weak in the knees and send a surge of pleasure through your stomach. You feel as if you're about to explode.

"You feel so fucking good, love," he growls, his voice low and husky. "Your tight little pussy is gripping me so perfectly. I want to feel you come all over my cock."

The pleasure builds up in your body, intensifying with each thrust. You can feel the heat spreading through your core, your muscles tensing as you climb higher and higher. John's relentless pace sends you spiraling, your body writhing beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your eyes roll back, your chest heaving as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation. You squirm against John, your hips bucking wildly, meeting his every thrust. The room fills with the sound of your moans and the wet, slapping noise of your bodies coming together.

John leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate, searing kiss. He swallows your panting breaths, his tongue dancing with yours, claiming every gasp and moan. His hands grip your cheeks, holding you firmly as he kisses you deeply, his body moving in sync with yours.

Your orgasm crashes over you, waves of ecstasy pulsing through your body. You cry out into his mouth, your voice muffled by his kiss. Your body convulses, your inner walls clenching around his cock, gripping him tightly as you ride out your climax.

John groans, the sensation of your orgasm pushing him to the edge. He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. "Fuck, love, you feel incredible," he rasps, his voice thick with lust. He continues to move, his hips thrusting, drawing out your pleasure, prolonging your ecstasy.

Your body shakes, your nerves tingling with the intensity of your release. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his back, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, his own release imminent.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming—a mix of lust, desire, and something deeper, something primal. You can see the strain in his face, the effort it takes for him to hold back, to make this moment last.

"John..." you whisper, your voice breathless, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You reach up, cupping his face, your thumbs brushing against his cheeks. You can feel the tension in his jaw, the heat of his skin.

He leans into your touch, his eyes softening slightly. "You're so beautiful, love," he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder and adoration. He kisses you again, softly this time, his lips gentle against yours.

As your orgasm subsides, John slows his movements, allowing your body to recover from the intense pleasure. He continues to press soft, gentle kisses to your lips, your cheeks, and your forehead, his touch tender and caring.

"Shh, love, just relax," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and affection. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers tracing the contours of your cheek. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he whispers, his eyes locked onto yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Your body begins to relax, your muscles uncoiling as you bask in the afterglow of your climax. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, your breaths coming in sync. His body is still pressed against yours, his cock still inside you, but he remains still, allowing you to set the pace.

He peppers sweet kisses on your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders, his lips gentle against your skin. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, the steady rhythm soothing and comforting. His hands roam your body, not with urgency, but with reverence, tracing the curves of your hips, your waist, your breasts.

"That was... incredible," you whisper, your voice breathless, your body still tingling with the remnants of your ecstasy.

After a few minutes of breathing time, you feel ready for more. You pull back slightly, your eyes meeting his. "John," you whisper, your voice filled with renewed desire. "I want you to cum too. I want to feel you."

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. A soft smile plays on his lips, and then he's kissing you again, his body beginning to move with yours once more.

The passion between you reignites, and John begins to move his pelvis again, sliding in and out of you at a steady pace. He peppers your face with tender kisses, his lips gentle against your skin. Your eyes flutter closed, your hands wrapped tightly around him, holding him close as you lose yourself in the sensation.

There's no hurry in his movements, no rushed desperation. Instead, he takes his time, savoring you, cherishing every moment. His thrusts are deep and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, his touch tender and loving.

Your body responds to his, your hips rising to meet his thrusts. You can feel the pleasure building again, your muscles tensing as you climb higher and higher. His cock fills you completely, stretching you, the sensation intense and overwhelming.

He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good, love," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I want to feel you come with me."

Your body shivers at his words, your nerves tingling with anticipation. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, his own release imminent. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, desperate to feel him come undone.

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent. Your bodies move together, the room filled with the sound of your panting breaths and the wet, slapping noise of your bodies coming together. The pleasure builds and builds, your body tensing, your muscles coiling tightly.

"John," you gasp, your voice a breathless whisper. "I'm so close..."

He leans back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming, a mix of lust, desire, and something deeper, something primal.

John maintains a steady, slightly increased pace, his movements deliberate and controlled. His forehead rests against yours, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. As he retracts, he whispers sweet nothings against your lips, his voice a low, husky murmur.

"I want to feel you come undone, love," he breathes, his pelvis continuing to move in a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure through your body. "Let go with me."

Your body responds to his every touch, your hips rising to meet his thrusts. You're close, just as you said earlier, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your toes curling with anticipation. The sensation is overwhelming, your muscles tensing as you climb higher and higher.

"John... John!!! Joohn!!!" you cry out, your voice a breathless, desperate plea as you reach your climax. Your body convulses, writhing against him, your inner walls clenching around his cock. The intensity of your orgasm sends shivers down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

John follows soon after, a primal growl escaping his lips as he releases inside you. His lips and head press against your cheek, inhaling your scent, kissing and nipping your skin. His body shudders with the force of his own climax, his breath hot against your ear.

You both pant heavily, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in unison. John's weight presses against you, his body still covering yours. He holds your waist firmly, and in a fluid motion, flips you both over, so that you're now lying on top of him, his body supporting yours.

The room is filled with the sound of your breathing, the air thick with the scent of your combined arousal. You lie there, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your shared climax, your limbs entwined, feeling deeply connected to each other.

----------

You wake up that evening, your body deliciously sore and sated after spending the entire afternoon making love. After that intense climax, you both went for another round just half an hour later. This time, John's restraint was gone, his movements more urgent and passionate.

You climaxed repeatedly, each time more intense than the last, your body writhing and squirting with each wave of pleasure. The duvet beneath you was soaked, showing just how intense your shared passion had been. John, with a hint of sadistic pleasure, loved watching you lose yourself completely.

This continued until you both reached your final, explosive climax. Exhausted and overwhelmed, you passed out almost immediately, your body limp but deeply satisfied. The room is quiet now, the air still thick with the scent of your combined arousal, as you lie there, basking in the afterglow of your shared ecstasy.

John lies asleep beside you, his breath deep and even. You can't help but smile softly as you take in his peaceful form. Gently, you slip out of his warm embrace and the cocoon of the duvet, the cool air of the room prickling your skin. The evening sky outside is a canvas of purple, orange, and blue, painting a serene backdrop to your movements.

Your body aches pleasantly as you make your way out of the room, each step a reminder of the passionate hours spent with John. The house is quiet, the air chilled with the winter season. You gather your discarded clothes, a small smile playing on your lips as you see the state of them—a torn camisole strap, leggings, and knickers strewn aside in the heat of the moment.

Careful not to wake John, you tiptoe downstairs to the first-floor bathroom. The warm spray of the shower is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of your passionate encounter. As you clean yourself, you notice the marks John left on your body—little reminders of his intensity. You sigh, a mix of exasperation and satisfaction, thankful for the concealing layers of winter clothing.

Your thoughts drift back to your first time with John. The memory of the pleasure sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but smile at the recollection. Finishing your shower, you step out, dry off, and slip into comfortable loose pants and a cozy turtleneck sweater.

Feeling refreshed and content, you make your way to John's rustic kitchen, ready to prepare a warm dinner to cap off the perfect day.

As you're cooking dinner, you hear hurried footsteps followed by John's voice calling out for you.

"Mmm? I'm in the kitchen, John!" you respond, hearing his sigh of relief.

A few seconds later, he enters the kitchen, his eyes softening as he sees you. He walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. He inhales deeply, taking in your fresh scent, his breath warm against your neck.

"I thought you ran away," he murmurs, a hint of concern in his voice.

You turn slightly to look at him, a playful smile on your lips. "Why would I run away? It's freezing outside, and thanks to you, my legs are weak and sore. I can barely walk, let alone make a run for it."

He chuckles, his grip tightening around you. "Well, maybe you finally realized I'm too much to handle and decided to make a run for the hills. Can't say I blame you; I can be a lot."

You grin, poking him playfully in the chest. "You're right about that. I'm completely worn out, thanks to you."

He laughs, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And yet, I plan to subject you to it all over again. But first," he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "dinner smells amazing. Almost as good as you."

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "Well, you need to freshen up first. I won't have you eating dinner naked."

He leans in, his voice a low rumble. "Who says I need clothes to enjoy a good meal?"

You sigh exasperatedly, turning off the stove. "Out, John. You're not allowed in the kitchen until you're fresh and dressed." You playfully push him out, laughing as he feigns protest.

Later, John returns, freshly showered and dressed, finding the dining table already set with care. He helps you put the finishing touches on the meal, his hands brushing yours as you work together in a comfortable rhythm. The room fills with the warmth of the food and the soft glow of each other's company.

Dinner is a cozy affair, the clinking of glasses and the hum of quiet conversation creating an intimate atmosphere. After the meal, you both clean up the plates and utensils side by side, the simple domesticity of the moment bringing a contented smile to his face.

As the evening wears on, John's earlier promise lingers in the air. With a playful smirk, he takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. True to his word, he subjects you to another round of intense pleasure, leaving you both breathless and deeply satisfied. You collapse into each other's arms, the world outside forgotten, as you laugh softly and say, "Well, I guess I can handle a little too much after all."

John grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Challenge accepted. Let's see how much you can really handle." And with that, he pulls you close, ready for another round. A/N:

Sorry for the delay, everyone! I know this chapter took a while, but I wanted to make sure it came out just right. It’s been through its fair share of rewrites, but I hope the end result is worth it!

This is the final chapter for this series. The story will continue in the form of one-shots moving forward, but don’t worry—I’ll be putting together a masterpost to help you follow the timeline.

And, of course, I hope you enjoyed your first time with the Captain! (HAHAHAHA!!) Now go hydrate or something—you’ve earned it. 😏

Also, a quick shoutout: the house described in this chapter is inspired by @eleu22's moodboard for John Price’s home. I saw it, loved it, agreed with it, and then tried to create a house and an interior based on that using The Sims 4. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! 🎮✨

[dumbbitchgalore]

John Price would be the type of man to order you around. Not just in your sex life but also in everyday aspects of your relationship. But you don’t notice it. The way he presses his demands are often in the question format so that to you it appears as you have a choice in the matter when in reality you don’t.

For example:

Instead of saying “Go clean the house.”

He’ll say, “Sweetheart, doesn’t the house look like a mess? It’s really bothering me, honey. Oh you want to clean? Well only if you want to kiddo but no pressure I have no problem with our home looking a bit cluttered.”

He makes you seem like you’re offering to clean but only because he said it in such a way. He highlights how the problem is an inconvenience to him, hence out of the goodness in your heart, you decide to alleviate his problem.

John is a master manipulator and I believe that with all my heart.

[pazza-di-te]

Toxic husband! Price but not like beating you up type of toxic but more like traditional mindset toxic

After marrying you and retiring, he has been relaxing in a way he never did.

You sometimes think you spoiled him too much but your not complaining, he's home safe with a full belly and your not using your vibrator anymore since he's happy to give you what you need.

John respects his female colleagues, but something just hits right watching you doing household chores, washing dishes and fixing the bed and all that, while he watches his football match on the telly with a cold can of beer by his hand.

Maybe he wouldn't be that bad if you ask him to help with the dishes since the military taught him discipline in a way. But then again, he secretly just likes sitting there watching you do your thing.

He sometimes have a habit of slapping your ass when he passes by you preparing lunch or arranging the laundry.

[ghostlycod]

task force 141 headcanons: who’s their celebrity crush?

MDNI, hints of NSFW, mentions of a breeding kink, all that stuff

price: does not pay attention to celebrities. absolutely refuses to. who gives a shit about some random stranger who can half-decently sing or act and is only “attractive” after they’ve been photoshopped to hell??? yeah sure maybe he liked some predetermined-to-be-famous bombshell as a teenager but nope, he’s wayyyy too mature for that now — until he discovers Sabrina Carpenter. pretty, naughty but still cute, and probably a bit too young for him?? oh, it’s a wrap. and with his tinyyyyy not tiny, not tiny at all breeding kink, he’d be jerking it to Juno every day for a month straight after he finds out about her

ghost: Megan thee Stallion. No further questions.

soap: stereotypically, a name like Megan Fox would just roll off of his tongue. It’s what everyone expects him to say, it’s what he liked as a teenager, so he just says it. keep it easy and keep up appearances. But seriously? it’s Sophie Turner post-divorce from Joe Jonas. she looked hot in those “hanging out with TSwift” photos! and she’s a MILF now… 👀

gaz: why would he have a celebrity crush when the only girl he sees is you? 🥺 (currently follows Zendaya on instagram and likes every single one of her photos) he would neverrrrr even look at anyone else, how could you think thaaaaat 🥺🥺 (and Bella Hadid) he doesn’t even care about insta or those kinds of movies or even listen to any of that kind of music 🥺🥺🥺 (and also Chloe Bailey)

[stxrlitmxxnlight]

Broken, Yet Yearning

Chapter 1: A Tough Decision, But One With No Regrets

A soft, relieved sigh is let out; At the same time, Rosmarie looks out the plane window, thinking about the good memories and people she's leaving back home in Australia; a decision that was made long ago when she started to plan out attending college and just general plans for the future. 

But as for currently, Rosmarie was on the plane headed to London, to finally be able to attend the college of her dreams and to also start a life of her own, a nice but well-deserved fresh start for herself. 

Leaving her Grandparents and friends hurt, yes, but she had desperately wanted to leave Australia and try to find something better elsewhere in the world.  

 Rose had always been an art, literature, and history buff ever since she was a child, she always found peace and happiness in being able to read and draw and be in her little world; on the other hand, all her hard work had paid off finally, being able to bring her passions to a whole new level, wanting to travel the world and visit all the museums and art galleries to her heart’s content, as well as going to places to see the history that had been left behind.

As a few hours passed, her plane finally landed at its destination. Having sat in the front of the plane, luckily, she was able to make a quick exit from the plane and to baggage claim, waiting for her things before eventually getting them.

After getting outside and waiting for a cab to come in view to be flagged down and take her to her residence, Rosmarie waited a bit before calling a cab and giving her driver her new address. 

“I’m excited but I’m also so tired at the same time.” She murmurs to herself, she got her luggage situated in the cab trunk, then seated herself in the backseat and thanked the cab driver sweetly before they made their way to her apartment. While the cab drove through the many streets to London, Rosmarie smiled and admired the new views and change in scenery.

After around a decent 45 minutes of driving, the cab driver finally arrived at the apartment complex, eagerly exiting the cab, she would then carefully remove her luggage, then thanked the driver before paying them and watching them drive off for a second before making her way to her apartment.

When she had made her way to the elevator, after checking in at the front desk of the apartment complex, she got her apartment key before thanking the staff with a soft grin and then making her way to the elevator.

Now that she was standing in front of the door to her new home, Rose had gently placed her hand on the knob; after unlocking the door, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as if she were expecting something to happen when she opened the door. Slowly entering her new home, she takes in the view of it while the thoughts of “This is it, I’ve finally made my dream a reality.” all go through her head as if she were dreaming this had all happened.

As much as she would have liked to keep dreaming, she needed to start unpacking what she had brought with her on the flight and do her best to get comfortable before being able to relax a bit. With a reluctant sigh, Rosmarie makes a move to find the bedroom, then makes haste to unpack. 

“I should call and let Oma and Opa know I landed and made it home.” Rosmarie reminded herself in a soft huff of exhaustion, after having stressed over the flight and the way to her apartment would go, along with aching at the thought of how lonely her grandparents were now, especially with how Rosmarie had been the only one to see and stay with them, especially with how most the family is back in Germany; meanwhile, her father never bothered to see how his parents were at all.

3 hours had passed, and now finally relaxed and comfortable and cozy on her bed, the warmth of the few blankets that were brought with were much welcomed. Rosmarie pulled out her phone, and started a video call with her grandparents, hoping they’d pick up if not busy.

beep beep beep

Is all she heard before smiling at the sound of her Grandma’s voice greeting her and not short after, her grandfather greeting her as well, both of them having a bright smile on their faces.

“Hallo liebes! Wie war Ihr Flug? Gefällt Ihnen Ihr neues Zuhause bisher?” Was what she heard almost instantly when the call connected finally, making her heart throb at the fact she couldn’t bring them with her.

( “Hello Love! How was your flight? Like your new home so far?”)

“Hallo Oma, mein Flug verlief gut, ich konnte nicht anders, als traurig zu sein, dass du nicht mitkommen konntest.” Rosmarie was quick to admit to them both, it almost made her ill when she had to depart with them at the airport if she were to be honest. 

“Aber ich liebe meine neue Wohnung, sie ist schön und gemütlich, wie auf der Website angekündigt!” She quickly adds before they could dwell on what she said about not being able to come with.

(“Hello grandma, my flight went well, I couldn't help but feel sad that you couldn't come with me.”)

(“But I do love my new apartment, it's nice and cozy like it was advertised on the website!”) “Wir wissen, dass es schwer ist, nicht bei Ihnen zu sein, aber wir sind stolz auf Sie, dass Sie diesen großen Schritt in Ihrem Leben gemacht haben. Vor allem, weil Sie so hart gearbeitet haben, um dorthin zu gelangen, wo Sie jetzt sind.” Her grandfather had told her, smiling and conveying how proud he and his wife were of her, their oldest grandchild striving and doing anything she could to make her dream come true.

(“We know it's hard not being there with you, but we're proud of you for taking this big step in your life. Especially since you've worked so hard to get where you are now.”)

When she heard her grandfather praise her, she couldn’t help but start tearing up and sniffling at his words.

 Rose had honestly thought this big move would be a little easier, but so far it's proven to be hard but worth it. 

Rosmarie was having a hard time being away from the only people who were the biggest supporters in her life after pretty much being abandoned as a child by her parents after her sister was born, but that was a whole other story in itself.

Rose was having a hard time responding when she heard her Grandmother’s voice this time, now listening carefully.

“Weine nicht, mein liebes Mädchen, kein Grund zu weinen, es wird immer Zeiten geben, in denen wir anrufen oder per Videoanruf telefonieren und vielleicht einen längeren Besuch planen können, wenn du in der Pause bist.” The second her grandma finished speaking, Rose had just finally let the dam of tears she’d been holding back so desperately flow freely, soft sniffles and hiccups being heard from the poor girl.

(“Don't cry my dear girl, no need to cry, there will always be times when we can call, video call, and maybe plan a long visit when you're on break.”)

“Ich weiß, aber es ist nicht dasselbe wie mit dir zusammen zu sein.” Would Rosmarie respond, having been able to finally say something after calming herself down? 

The only thoughts that were running through her head currently, were the ones of worry for her grandparents, worried about who would be there to help them when she couldn’t be.

“Aber das ist nicht der einzige Grund. Ich mache mir mehr Sorgen, dass du Hilfe brauchst und sie nicht bekommen kannst und dass etwas Schlimmes passiert, wenn ich nicht da bin, um dich zu beschützen.” Rose added with a sigh, now seeing her grandparents give her a look of empathy but also one of understanding of her worries.

(“I know, but it's not the same as being with you.”) (“But that's not the only reason, I'm more worried about you needing help and not being able to get it, and something bad happening when I'm not there to protect you.”)

After a bit more conversing had been made, Rosmarie started to feel a bit worn out, seemingly now that she had cried out her stress and worries to her grandparents, along with that long flight from Australia to England plus the car ride, she was definitely in need of a nap, a well deserved one at that.

” Du solltest dich etwas ausruhen, Schatz, du hattest einen langen Flug und einen langen Tag vor dir. Warum nicht ein Nickerchen machen und uns später vor dem Schlafengehen noch einmal anrufen?” Her Grandfather suggests to her once he notices how drained she looks, and Rose gives a simple but tired nod and a few slow blinks when doing so as if trying to stay awake.

(“You should get some rest dear, you've had a long flight and a long day ahead of you. why not take a nap and call us again later before bed?”)

When soft ‘I love yous’ and ‘miss you already/miss you more’ were said a few times, the call eventually ended and Rosmarie plugged her phone in before laying down again, now just looking up at the ceiling, thinking away all while her eyes slowly closed. 

The need for sleep having taken over her body and mind finally, gave her a moment of peace and no worries to be thought about.

4 hours later

With a soft but long yawn, and some well-needed stretching of the muscles, Rosmarie awakes from her nap feeling a bit more refreshed and energized than she was earlier when she first arrived.

“I need to go grocery shopping…and just get basic needs too, and maybe I should drop by the campus if I have time..” Rosmarie had pondered to herself as she got up, stretching a little more before moving on and getting into something more cozy and comfortable. 

Having decided on a baggy sweater and some sweatpants just to stay casual and comfortable at the same time.

By the time she finally left the apartment, a list of what she needed in hand while following the GPS app on her phone to find the nearest market she could walk to and from home with no issues. 

While she was strolling along the streets of London, she was just lost in her thoughts and worries about her new big step forth in life. 

 Her thoughts were not concerned about how college would go, but rather if she’d be able to make friends and get along with people since she had always been on the more timid side when it came to befriending new people.

With the way she had grown up back in Australia, yes she spent most of her time with her grandparents as much as she could, but she was still sadly made to live with her parents, mostly having to face the reality of them acting like she never existed. 

It hurt a lot, yes, but it hurt more to see and deal with her little sister always going out of her way to make Rosmarie’s day or overall mood horrible. Didn’t help that Rose was also just naturally a soft and sensitive person due to her home life.

Now that she had made a big step, Rose was a bit more confident in socializing now her sister was no longer a risk of bullying her in front of others, along with her parents too as they did pitch in when they felt like it. 

When reality decided to suddenly hit her, she came back to the world from her thoughts, she noticed she had made her way to the market, honestly surprised by the time it had taken her to get there. 

It had only been about a ten-minute walk. Shrugging off her reality check, she makes her way into the Tescos, quickly grabbing a cart and making her way through the aisles, checking off her list of needs/wants slowly, keeping to herself as much as she possibly can so she can just what she needed to be done dealt with before any sort of socializing.

1 hour of shopping later

Standing in the detergent aisle, trying to locate the brand she usually uses due to having a slight allergy to an ingredient in most detergents. 

Fortunately for her, the store sold it, but unlucky for her it was way above her reach. But she does attempt to tiptoe the best she can with being only 5'9(175.2cm) and with the shelves being what feels like 10ft tall(304.8cm), but when it was only maybe 7ft(213.3cm)tall.

When making her final attempt at tiptoeing for the needed shelf that was far out of her reach, she lost balance, fully expecting to come crashing down onto the cold hard floor of the store; but much to her surprise, she was met with what felt like a broad chest as well with a strong arm holding her close.

Looking up at the person who had saved her from the fall, she couldn’t help with how quickly her heart started to flutter, amazed and awed at what masterpiece of a being was in front of her. Was like he was created by the gods in Olympus for how beautiful and handsome he was. 

But before she continued to ogle at the tall blonde man whom still had her in his arm, she would quickly fix herself, then again look up at the older man.

“I’m so sorry!” Rose apologized quickly while her face flushed a shade of red amongst the soft skin of her cheeks, her eyes had darted from one direction to another before shyly meeting the tall man’s gaze once more. “ Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you at all?’” she inquired, worried she may have accidentally stepped on him or something.

“No need to apologize.” The stranger tells her in one of the deepest, but also somehow heavenly and pleasant to the ears. “I’m fine.” He states as he looks up to see what she had tried to grab.

 Before she even knew it, the gentleman carefully grabbed the detergent she was trying to reach before and carefully placed it in her cart. 

“Seems like you like that brand.” He notes in a slightly softer tone but also tries to be semi-playful, since noticing her all flustered.

“Oh-uh it is one of few brands I can use due to having a slight allergy to a couple of ingredients in most detergents.” She explained to the man, and he hummed softly in response, showing he understood. 

“Noticed your accent, take it not from here?” The gentleman inquired, having his interest been piqued.

“Ah yes, I just moved to London as of today, I came from Australia. ” Rosmarie informs him, now almost beaming a bit as they conversate, having shaken off her embarrassment a bit.

“An Aussie I see.” The blonde giant, but gorgeous man says with a slight chuckle, having found her attitude change cute when more comfortable. 

Humming softly to confirm his answer she smiled softly before looking at the time on her phone with a pout. “Wish today wasn’t moving by so quickly already, I have so much to do,” Rosmarie stated with a slight pout before looking at the man once more.

“Unfortunately I have to get going, I’ve to finish what errands I can today.” with a sigh she smiled at him. “ It was a pleasure meeting you, as well as talking with you!” The young girl exclaimed softly. 

“ Hope to see you around sometime, I’m Rosmarie by the way,” she informed him before smiling and giving him her thanks for the help, making her way to the checkout with her things.

Rosmarie couldn’t help but giggle to herself after having a nice conversation, but also glad her first interaction with someone local had gone so well. 

“Maybe doing this was worth it in the end.” She told herself, having more confidence in the new move, seeing that it was going well so far on the first day. 

Too bad she had to continue with her plans for the day, otherwise she’d probably stand there and keep talking with Simon.

???’s Pov

Once the young girl, Rosmarie, had gone along with her day, it wasn’t long after her departure, he heard two fairly familiar voices laughing and fussing and laughing around with one another. 

“ Oi! Who were you blethering ‘bout with?” Questioned with a thick Scottish accent from behind, just being able to tell by the tone that was used, that a smirk was on one or both the men’s faces. 

“No one Johnny,” He replied, with a roll of his eyes as he turned to look at the two men. “ Need something?” he questions only for the two to give a mischievous grin.

“Wipe the grins off ye dafty faces.” he groaned slightly looking at the two men.

“Oh come off it, tell us who that bonnie of a lass ye were talkin to is.” The man named Johnny tells him, grinning ear to ear.” Ye never just talk, let alone help just anyone; if anything you do your best to stay away from interacting wit’ others.`` 

Johnny teased the older man, finding delight in his friend’s sour attitude.” If I heard correctly, Rosmarie was the bonnie lass’s name.” Johnny added with a smirk, looking to the side at his other friend.

“Seems like someone is smitten already, aye, Kyle?” He asked his friend, who also looked back at Johny before looking at their friend. 

“Bloody hell seems like it mate,” Kyle replied with the same shit-eating grin his friend shared. “ Fuckin’ hell..” is all the poor guy can mutter to himself, seeing that his friends did seem to have heard everything.

He just didn’t know what it was about her, but he just couldn’t tell what it was that attracted him to her. 

“Let us go before Price gets pissed we haven’t come back with more tea, I’m not lookin’ forward to being torn at for ye two twats, especially since I had to go looking for the two of ye.” is all he responds with, before starting to walk out the aisle, leaving the two younger lads behind as they celebrate about how they were right.

“Let’s just get back to Price already.” he lectured the two grown men, more like children, before reaching to check out and being quick to pay, and heading back to the car with the numbskulls following behind.

As they all got in the car, he couldn’t help but wonder to himself if he really would be seeing this Rosmarie girl again. Nor would he deny that he was looking forward to hopefully running into her again soon.

[konigsblog]

All I can think is toxic dad bod price refusing to take your virginity but fucking your ass raw

cw: misogynistic price, t!db!price

he knows you're a virgin, he adores that. he's glad you're ‘clean’—that no man has ever touched you like he has. this is the only time t!db!price ever strives for your reaction, your pleasure.

john wants to see the effect he has on you, to give the already egotistical and cocky man an even bigger ego than necessary. john's cock twitches in his loose boxers at the sight of your unused cunt infront of him. his nostrils flaring at the sweet scent emitting from your sloppy hole. it's almost addictive—the strong desire to taste it while you beg to be fucked by him and his girthy, meaty cock over and over again.

price is restless, unrelenting when he slams into your asshole repetitively. your hole swallows every inch, each girthy inch he has to offer. he slides his shaft in and out your hole in a painful manner, one that leaves you gripping the sides of the couch, looking down at your asshole as the pain spreads. your throbbing ache is completely ignored, as it's useless to t!db!price at the moment.

he wants you to beg him, like a good wife should.