#bear shifter! price

[reaping-the-benefits]

Nasty thought before I go to bed: bear shifter Price who can smell when you're ovulating. That saccharine scent that follows you, as you got about your duties. And he has to physically remove himself whenever you enter the same room, because his patience is thinning and he's dying to know if you taste as good as you smell.

[nocaptainonthisship]

honey

Bear Shifter!Price/Reader

(coming to an ao3 near you as soon as I finish writing the damn thing.)

It frightened you, that first winter all those years ago, waking beneath warm, immovable mass of unknown provenance. You could not understand then all the things you now know to be true. They were nothing but myth. Imagination. A collective fantasy undertaken by society in its entirety when confronted with that which the mind could not yet understand. These stories didn’t walk among you like men did, these beasts and brutes did not hide in a crowd. 

They did not take pretty maidens back to their dens for debauching. 

Until he did. Except he wasn’t a beast and only sometimes a brute, and he didn’t drag you anywhere. No, you came willingly to John Price’s bed, even if you didn’t understand the implications of a crisp fall day, of orange leaves littering the yard, of blackout curtains on every window and a pantry full of supplies. 

No, the first time you had woken like this you had been afraid, your brain sluggish and syrupy as molasses. Sleep felt like the only true thing left to be desired. Desire felt like a prison. It went to war with the confusion inside you as you struggled to open your eyes, to get your bearings, too understand just how much time had passed that you felt as though you were waking from a long coma and not a post-coital nap. To rest wasn’t just desire, it was imperative, a matter of life or death as grave as the matter of discovering what had happened to you. 

You had opened your eyes to find a gray dawn, a bedroom where you recognized the shadows if not the specifics. That warmth that cradled you shifted and rumbled as if sensing that sleep had lost this battle. As if he was preparing to go to war. There was a hand which spanned almost the width of your ribcage, nestled under your breasts. It pulled you closer until all you were aware of feeling was skin against skin.

“Honey,” didn’t sound so sweet, whispered in your ear. It sounded like the boulders of your former life tumbling down the sides of the old quarry. It sounded like an oath, fealty wrapped around you like a fur coat. It was almost enough to lull you into complacency. 

What you didn’t know then, but you know now, is that, “Honey,” never was a term of endearment. It was a demand. It was an order just as much as the ones he barked at his men in the field. Looking back, you wonder if he had not yet realized what kind of holy bond tied you together. It was instinctual. 

Taking you out to dinner, taking you back to his home, taking you to his bed, taking and taking and taking until you were empty and ready to be filled with a version of yourself you had not met yet. All the things you had learned, all the versions of you that you had been were built on foundations of sand. Who you were told to be, who you were taught to be, who you were afraid to be. All flimsy under the weight of him. All vanished, and leaving behind only instinct. Only honey, warm and golden and thicker than your thoughts. 

Instinct, over and beyond reason. 

You know now what it all signifies. The cold grey dawn peaking behind curtains which you had neglected to fully close, the warmth which caressed you and dragged you back to the shores of slumbering. You know now that the hands which grip you tighter as you wiggle are not the hands of merely another hopeless lover. These hands are the hands of your mate, and he isn’t going to let go. 

When you’re awake enough, you like to tease him about the way he purrs. John will protest and grumble and say things like, “Not a damn cat, love.” There is no other comparison, though, to the way it rumbles through his chest, rattles its way into your bones, calms the place in the back of your brain which is consumed at every moment by the bond which you share. It’s the song of home, which settles inside your soul and wipes away its ragged edges. 

You had been something before him, a leader and a fighter and a pillar of your community. You had been more than the body which kept him sane through the months of sleep. You had also been deeply, desperately unhappy. Lost and adrift in a world which could never care how un-moored you were, you had harbored inside you a hunger which you feared would never be met. Not feared – known, in the way you knew your name or the skin of your hands. Before John, you had longed for him in a way which could not be spoken of, even if you wished. Before John, there was only this secret greed inside you, this desire to be taken away from the rules and regulations and repercussions of the world. To be reduced - or perhaps to be elevated - by the protection and the provision of a man who loved you. 

Held against him now, as he purrs against your back and his hand finds your hip, you do feel reduced. Its a return to your factory settings, a hard reboot, a knock on the head that makes you less of a woman. More of the beast and the brute. Maybe you were born to be his mate, and your body knew before your mind. Maybe you were remade, reformed, reforged in the image of him to become his perfect half rather than born as such. Maybe that piece of you had not existed until, seeing his face for the first time, it formed itself out of the ether of you and uttered, “Mine.”

[pazza-di-te]

back at it again with bear!price x fem!reader

John's dick is hung, like big big and h u n g.

First time taking him, had to be a proper setting where pillow under you for support and John even got extra bottle of lube just to be safe. Dont wanna risk hurting the missus.

"S'big...John.."

"I know lovie... Takin me well."

As you slightly writhe from the feeling of the stretch, you look up to him and asked "Is it almost all in?"

And John has to pause a bit before answering "Yep. Almost there luv..." He said as he looks down where the two of you are connected and his dick is still HALFWAY in you.

After a while tho, the blood, sweat and tears slick, were all worth it since your brain is now all mushy and your thoughts evaporated from the power of his thrusts and sounds of wet skin slapping continously.

"J-John! Fffuck!- John- Suu... much!-"

"Stay with me n-now luvie-"

John's hips sputters and increases in speed as his desperstion to cum comes to action (pun intended?)

No other words come out of your mouth except the name of your beloved again and again and again again. What was even your own name?

Your brain goes back and forth from reality and the only thing you could hear and feel was john's entire being, his heavy breathing, his skin slapping into yours, his calloused hands, his deep grunts, his hairy chest pressing onto you, his arms hairier than usual, his teeth sharper.

The only you could feel was john, john here, john there, john john john

"John! Jo-John! Im cumming!-" your high pitched moans werent ignored as John's hand comes down between you and him to rub circles around your clit, successfully tightening your body and your stomach tensing just the right amount to-

"John!" your arms desperetly grab onto his back and leaving red welts on its wake.

John deeply groans as he feels your cunt tightening and milking him dry as he spurts his cream in you. As the both of you catch your breath.

He didnt even realize, his body almost got turned into his bear form

[cryptid-cave]

Currently thinking about a reader who, while having a full-time job and playing the part of a “real adult” pretty well for the most part, is still kind of lost and pathetic. It feels less like they’re living and more like they’re surviving, getting by on their own with just a cat for company.

Enter John Price, who’s currently on medical leave and just itching for a project. Maybe reader works at a store near his home that he shops at almost every other day, or works at the library where he goes when he needs to get out of the house. Either way, he spots this pretty little thing who clearly needs some love and guidance, preferably from a strong, gentle hand - and who better to do that than him?

Anyways, save me bossy and demanding Price with a savior complex, save me

[inkbybambi]

tw: period/blood kink

bear shifter!price is everything you could ask for and more, especially when on your period. happy to cuddle close to you in either form, neither man nor beast is a threat. he’ll lay a warm, heavy paw over your belly, a deep rumble in his chest that lulls you into a comfortable, dazed-like state that doesn’t leave any room for worrying about the blood leaking from between your thighs or the pain of the cramps that linger low in your stomach. he loves the smell of it, thick and metallic, an ache in his jaw that begs him for just a small taste of you. he makes sure you stay hydrated and fed, tucking you safely into his lap and feeding you by hand, if he must. always a fond, sort-of smile pulling beneath his fluffy beard, letting you drag your nails through it, knowing the calming repetitive motion, the snick of bristles beneath your fingers, makes you soft and pliable for him.

he knows that as long as you’re loose for him, limbs easily moved and happy to indulge him, he can spread your legs open later, his maw right at your sensitive, puffy cunt, tongue thick and wet as he laps at your folds, cleaning you of the blood you whine about. you whine a bit differently for him now, fingers curling tight in his hair to pull him closer, begging and pleading for him as your hips shift over his mouth and nose, no longer worried about anything other than the hot wave of pleasure, a sick kind of satisfaction at seeing his mouth painted in your blood, a way to mark him as yours just as much as you are his.

[the-californicationist]

Ursa Major

Lumberjack John Price, retired British Army captain, owns and operates 5,000 acres of selective harvesting land for his logging company. Unfortunately, you work for an environmental firm as a consultant, and it’s your job to tell him he has to stop logging at once since his harvest is encroaching on rare bear habitats. But, something’s not quite right about the bears, or about these lumberjacks, and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it.

Bear Price is here! Hope y'all enjoy it. Make sure to subscribe on AO3 or check back here for (hopefully) weekly updates.

Huge thanks to my alpha reader, @vampirekilmerfic for sticking with me through the planning stages, and to my faithful betas, @gemmahale and @eclecticgrimlin 🩷 Love y'all so much.

Another long fic, here we go!

[vnards]

>dinner's ready!

Price was grumpy. There was a tightness in his shoulders he couldn’t release and it had been driving him mad. He was at work, taking his 7th lap of the forest today, trying to run off his extra energy. But no matter how hard he tries, there’s been a smell in his nose. As he makes his way back to the ranger’s station, a grumble emits from him unknowingly.

Ever since his last visit to the store, there’s been this itch under his nails and a tension in his neck that just wouldn’t go away. Nothing he does gets his mind off you. Off your smell. “Dammit.” Price grumbles under his breath and leans back in his chair, wiping his eyes, as if he can make everything go away.

There’s footsteps outside the ranger station that catches his ear and a quick glance at the clock makes him sigh in relief. Marcus walks in, throwing a polite smile John’s way as he heads towards the back, getting ready for his own shift.

John couldn’t be more grateful to be able to get out of here. He quickly starts shutting down his things and begins packing. “Long day?” Marcus asks as he comes from the back of the station.

He grunted in response, “It was fine.” He quickly dismisses.

He hears a pause come from Marcus for a moment. Damned humans and their stupid social rules.

The former military captain tries again, remembering he only got the job because of Marcus’ good nature. He clears his throat again, “I think I may be coming down with something.” He says instead.

“Yea,” Marcus starts, “It usually takes a while to get used to the mountain air.” John falsely agrees, simply wanting to get out from under scrutiny and judgement. “Maybe you should take the weekend off.” He suggests.

That gives Price pause for a moment. He doesn’t want to misuse any good graces with Marcus, but with the coming winter, he would not look a gifted horse in the mouth. “I can still come in on Sunday,” He offered.

Marcus thought it over for a moment, “Yea, that sounds pretty good.”

Price smiled politely, a renewed vigor gave him enough momentum to grab his stuff and head out.

…

Price lumbered around the forest aimlessly. The sky was a light grey, but despite that, the trees gave an enchanting look and feel. He was in his bear form, finally able to stretch his legs and enjoy the mountains in which he resided in. He hasn’t had the chance ever since he’s moved to the area and the serenity he feels makes him feel truly at home.

No orders to give. No gunfire raining over him. No crushing weight on his shoulders. He can meander as slow as he wants. Scratch his back for as long as he wants. Even pick the berries without a care in the world.

There were a few hikers out in the late afternoon. Probably coming from work. Families with their dogs mostly. Everyone gave him a wide berth, some taking pictures, but most too scared to move until he’s ambled his way further. He’s not out to scare anybody so he leaves them alone.

Until that smell.

The bear sniffed the air again. Certain of the familiar scent. A pleased rumble began in his chest, heading a direction further into the woods and closer to the river.

Price didn’t even realize that he had changed directions. Simply moving as his bear asked without question. It wasn’t until he got closer that he came to and realized something was off.

Your smell got stronger. The hints of a floral and rich scent beckoning him. And Price followed.

John was able to take in your scent fully with his nose this time and it was even better than the last. Honey. You smelled like fresh honey mixed with a salty air and a floral scent. Bodywash, maybe. He was so distracted, he missed another scent in the air.

He traveled for about half a mile, paying no mind to the other hikers that had spotted him. The rushing of the river began a craving for fish. Price thought he saw salmon on one of his routes. As the clearing came up, there you were.

Sitting at the edge of the river, squatting to look under the water was you. You were out hiking it seemed, your backpack too light for anything else. John watched you in silence. It seemed the tranquility of the forest extended even to you. Almost adding to its beauty.

You threw you head back and gave a hearty laugh. What a wonderful sound it was. The trance Price basked in was interrupted by a stranger.

A man, walking closer to you from behind. He was about the same height as John, but not nearly as muscled or big. Not nearly as strong as Price. He was on the younger side, but still a threat nonetheless. The bear readied his stance, ready to intervene at a moments notice, when you turned your head and spoke to the man. You knew each other. And by the way the man put his hand on your back and sat next to you, it seemed you knew each other better than just friends.

Price had to focus on staying hidden in the trees. Watching. Observing. Calculating his next move.

He could shift back and approach the “couple,” giving some bullshit excuse for interrupting them. Maybe you’ll pick me over him. The thought pleased him, but no. That wouldn’t be enough. You were too smart to believe anything he’d come up with.

His mind ran a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do. He could leave. Neither of you had spotted him, his fur helping him blend into the foliage, keeping him concealed. And as the two of you sat on the edge of the river, looking over the horizon, none the wiser, the stranger said something that caught your attention. Price got down lower, his years of stealth being an innate skill drilled in his bones.

Your voices were too soft for him to hear. But as the man touched the soft skin on your cheek and leaned in carefully, the bear roared, an anger carrying Price forward into the clearing and disturbing you both.

“Oh shit!” The man was on his feet in an instant, spotting the bear immediately. The look of confusion on your face was adorable. But the pure fear that replaced it tightened something in his chest. The big, bad bear had made himself known and there was no going back. So Price led into it with full force.

He raised onto his hind legs to his full height, his eyes never leaving the man that dare touch what’s his. The frustrations from the last few days came forth. The itch for violence that was always under his skin reaching a tipping point that he released in a bellow.

The call of the wild.

It didn’t take the man long to get to his feet and start running the other direction. He hadn’t even looked back to see if you would follow. A coward. He sneered.

Staying still under the scrutiny of a beast like him, you were too stunned to move. The pure fear in your eye was enough to tell Price everything he needed to know. You were smart not to run in front of a wild creature.

As the coward continued to run, further than necessary, Price might add, and once the threat was deemed safe enough, the bear dropped back on all fours. He let out a chuff of annoyance as his attention turned back to you as a sniffle caught his attention.

Price wasn’t close, but he could still see the tears growing along your tear line, threatening to fall. John almost felt bad about scaring you the way he did, but he knew there was no point fighting instinct.

So instead, he laid down on all fours, his arms and leg splayed out under him and put his chin on the ground. He hoped you knew what he was trying to do, look as non-threatening as possible. That was his mission.

You stood up on shaky legs, unsure of what to do with this strange bear’s behavior. You’ve of course have had tips you’ve picked up over the years on what to do when you encounter wild animals in these mountains, but the blood coursing through your veins wipes away any memory of them.

But…there’s something different about this bear. You can’t put your finger on it, but you trust your intuition and you get a burst of courage.

Price has to focus on staying still, but he can’t deny the burst of excitement in his stomach as you take careful steps closer. His eyes never leave you, watching your confidence grow with every step as you come closer to him.

Mission successful.  

Something speaks to you. You’re unable to tell what has come over you. Walking up to a wild bear after being abandoned by Tim. There’s a flame of anger that begins to start, leaving you like that, but you tamp it down in favor to focus on the wild bear in front of you.

The bear chuffs again, it doesn’t sound threatening, but you stop anyway. What you are you thinking!? There’s still a possibility of being mauled by a bear out in the middle of the mountains because you walked up to it? The thought doesn’t get any less crazy.

You’re about to turn back around when you examine the bear again. He hasn’t moved. Staying still as you approached him. It’s like he knows. You can see it in his eyes, something human about them. You finish crossing the distance to the bear, close enough to touch.

Price makes sure to not make any sudden movements, but he does lift his head up closer to you, seeing if he can get lucky twice. At his insistence, you finally reach your hand out to him, close enough to gently pet his head.

Price was in heaven.

Your hands are soft against his skin. Softer than his fur even. Gentle. John knew you’d have a gentle hand. A pleased rumble starting in his chest. Something he hasn’t done in years and it feels good. It feels great.

“You’re not so scary, huh?” You giggle lightly, your nerves settled after the adrenaline wore off.

Never for you.

You get a burst of courage and reach a little further, reaching behind the bear’s ears. Price melted.

He wanted more. He needed more.

He tilted his head to the side to allow you more access behind his ears. He can’t think of the last time someone showed him so pleasantly. The bear leaned over completely, laying on his side and showing you his belly as you make sure to show the other ear as much attention as the first. So thorough. Such a good girl. The pleased rumbles grow louder.

A flick of the bear’s ear causes him pause and suddenly sits up. You are able to move out of the way and step back, remembering you don’t have any protection on you incase this bear changes it’s mind. But he had other concerns.

The sound of a truck rumbling through the trees on the ranger’s path he took many times that day. How could John forget the protocol for spotting large animals? He’s never been so reckless before.

A new tension replaced your fear, concern as the truck came in sight. “Go,” you told the bear, “they might hurt you. Shoo, shoo.”

No one has never shooed away John Price before. He knew the protocol for a sighting and Marcus wouldn’t shoot him unless it was a last resort, but who was he to deny an order from his pretty little bird? He raised up, shaking his fur a bit of any debris and sticks he accumulated. He checked on you one more time. Your hands were still shaking, maybe from adrenaline, maybe from fear, but you looked more stable. Better. “Go,” you insisted again.

He chuffed again, but followed your orders. As Price worked to blend back into the words, he knew one thing for certain.

He will never let you go.

-been thinking if it would be easier to set up all my works in one place if it'd be helpful?

(edit: I did it -> list)

[enarien]

I may be a fat bitch but according to shifter bear!Price fandom I'm in perfect shape to have his chubby little cubs so suck on that haters!!!

[dragonnarrative-writes]

GhostGaz Week - afraid of the dark // post mission comfort

@ghostgazweek thank you for the prompts! I haven't actually said that yet this week.

Ghost isn’t afraid of the dark. He was born of it, clawed his way from hell by feel and smell and taste. The darkness was a comfort - he couldn’t see the bones, the blood and dirt caked under his nails, until he was free. And even then, darkness shielded him from the worst of it while he got his bearings.

Now, it keeps him as he stalks through the night. He’s not even the last thing his prey sees, some nights.

He’s not afraid of the dark because he knows it’s full of predators. He is one.

So when Kyle admits one day that he has trouble sleeping with the lights off, it takes Simon a moment to make the words make sense.

They’re post mission, settled into the safe house. Ghost’s been stalking the halls, restless, blood refusing to settle. He’s stood outside the Captain’s room twice already, listening to the reassuring rhythm of his surprisingly quiet snores, and beneath it, the slow throb of his heart at rest. He’d thought he heard both of the sergeants, sharing a room, but really it was only Soap, the mouth-breathing muppet. Gaz is sitting quiet at the kitchen table when Simon starts his third circuit of the night.

The lights are off, which explains why Simon didn’t realize that Gaz was awake.

“Sorry,” Gaz mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Can’t sleep. Soap keeps the room too dark.”

Soap had been almost as pleased as Ghost himself to find the rooms with blackout curtains. Kyle hadn’t seemed moved one way or the other. Had he hesitated as he set his bag on his bunk? Had he rode back in the transport with dread? Why hadn’t he told Soap? Soap obviously doesn’t know, or Gaz would be sleeping with as much light as he could tolerate.

Ghost makes himself detach from the circuit that would carry him through the whole house again to step closer. Shakes himself back into his skin, into Simon, and unmasks himself to sit at the table. Takes in Kyle’s face, the arch of his brows, the shadows and highlights of his lips.

Gaz is a soldier, through and through. Kyle is young and beautiful and tired. He doesn’t say anything, just lets Simon stare his fill. After a moment, he extends his arm, palm up. The Ghost under his skin is fascinated by the throb of his veins, but he pushes down the urge to sink his teeth in and intertwines their fingers instead.

“Didn’t know,” Simon rasps. He clears his throat, tries again. “Didn’t know you was scared of the dark.”

Kyle shrugs. “’M not, usually. But sometimes I have visions when I’m sleeping. Hard to shake if I wake up and can’t see.”

“Don’t touchin’ make the vision’s worse?” Simon wiggles their clasped hands.

“I like seeing you.” Kyle gives a gentle squeeze. “Dark’s not so bad, from your eyes.”

Simon hums at that. He hears something upstairs, cocks his head to listen as Johnny mutters something and stumbles out of bed. “Pup’s up.”

Kyle grins. “He’s about to knock a vase over. It’s plastic.”

Simon listens as something thumps just up the stairs. Soap muffles a curse and a yelp, there’s the slap of his palm trying to catch something and then a sigh. “Fuckin’ plastic piece o’ shite.”

It’s good to hear Kyle laugh.

[pazza-di-te]

I looove bear shifter!price

How it makes sense since he's build like one, muscly with the perfect amount of chub and hairy too.

Bear!Price who shifts into a bear when he notices your stress or just upset. He would always enjoy how you pet his fur or boop his nose.

Bear!Price who I bet would be so good with hugs, a full on bear hug with his hairy arms around you and your head just laying on his chest.

Bear!Price who prefers to sleep naked with you, nothing sexual (sometimes). He likes the feel of another person next to him especially the one he loves. Breathing and living just next to him. If he wakes up earlier than you, he has a habit of staring for awhile.

♡♡♡

Bear!Price who uses his strength to manhandle you into a position he wants. Mating press? His pressing his weighted body onto your folded one to keep you in place, his warm body covering you perfectly.

Bear!Price, who, during his upcoming hibernation, eats twice or thrice his normal food amount and would gladly bring freshly butchered meat for you to cook. After eating dinner awhile, he sometimes request dessert, his favorite? You. Get on the table.

Bear!Price who you have to get use to his stamina during spring, just days after his hibernation. That sleep refereshed something more than his energy and you have to mentally prepare whats coming in to you.

[islayhawkin]

Give me your bearshifter! price hc I'm obsessed and need to pick a Scenario to write about

[rodolfoparras]

dw im not normal abt hairy!price, too.

because imagine coming back from work or something, and depending on your shift, just seeing price splayed out on your bed - naked. he's either bathing in the warm glow of your bedside lamps, lazily dozing off like an oversized cat, or either bathing in the pale light of the morning sky, quiet and softly snoring.

you just can't help but take a moment to admire him, carefully pulling back the cotton sheets to get a closer look at his body. any and all thoughts of appearing like a pervert disappear as you gaze down at his body, wondering to yourself if this is how aphrodite looks like.

his body hair is thick. it coats his chest in an array of fuzzy fur, reminding you of a bear. it travels between his pecs to his stomach, the fat there strong yet soft. it has you drooling and you're forced to swallow. it's a mixture of his natural color and silver, age catching up, and yet as beautiful as ever.

you're tempted to pull the covers down to take a look at the downstairs, eyeing the peaking tufts of his unclipped pubic hair, but think better of it when you feel price stir.

you glance up and watch his eyes flutter open, all tired and lazy, so warm, so beautiful, so tempting, it takes all your willpower to not pounce on him.

and so, you lean over, and kiss him on the forehead. you hear him grunt, his large, warm hand coming up to lay on your waist.

Mr pjc when I say this is FAWKING beautiful I mean this is fawking beautiful I was literally itching to read a price drabble and came online and saw this thank you so much🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️

[the-californicationist]

Ursa Major (Ch. 12)

It's time! The big reveal is here! Now, the real drama begins...

Huge thank you as always to my beta team @vampirekilmerfic, @gemmahale, @eclecticgrimlin!

A tiny spoiler/sneak peek below the cut.

Then, he allowed himself a gentle but greedy kiss over her mating line on the nape of her neck, relishing that smooth, sloping place where his bear still wanted him to bite her, to punch his canines through her flesh like he did to the small bodies of his writhing, succulent prey, stealing her life and dooming her to the hollow hell of immortality. Her innocence would pour out of her and flow down his chin, staining his mouth black with her blood. 

And it would be his fault.

But it felt so good to just kiss her there. To let his mouth imagine these sins without committing them. It was like smelling the aroma of a bakery early in the morning, knowing exactly the way the steaming rolls would taste without ever putting one between his teeth, and yet reveling in their starchy comfort all the same. 

What a shame it was to lose something so lovely. 

[vnards]

Bear!Price: the after...

Price is barley able to get the door closed behind him before he spits in his hand and shoves it down in his pants. The pulsing of his cock was so distracting from his way back, thinking about you. Those soft hands.

Price begins to pump his cock at a steady pace. Just like he would fuck you. The shivers of pleasure run through him, your smell in his nose like ambrosia. “God, my good girl. Knowing who she belongs to.” A low sound grumbled through him, as he throws his head back in ecstasy. He felt like everything about you drew him mad.

The sight of you on your knees for him. That soft pink tongue poking out to tease the head of his cock. He knows your hands would be so soft as you stroke him.

As soft as they were on the river.

He pumps his cock a bit faster, the thought of those beautiful eyes looking up at him like you do. How blessed he would be to see those eyes feel with tears of pleasure.

Pleasure he caused.

He feels like a pervert thinking these things about you. He just couldn't help himself.

He wondered how sweet you would taste with his tongue in that pretty pussy. A meal waiting to be devoured. I bet you taste as good as you smell, baby girl. Price was salivating at the thought, his hand reaching back and claws punching out into the wall, mindlessly wishing to grab those soft curves of yours.

You'd make the prettiest sounds for him, he knows it. Knows how nicely you'll ask for him to fill you. Mark you. Mine. A bust of possessiveness tears through him at the thought of the coward that just left you there. Abandoned you.

I'll protect you so much better than he can, my pretty girl. Only mine.

John shifted his hands, adjusting the grip on  his shaft to cup his balls, a slightly tighter feel. Just like that pussy. Another groan. My good girl would moan so pretty for me. John was lost to his primal desires, fur beginning to sprout from his arms. His grunts turned more into growls, more beast than man.

A man too desperate to stroke his cock before he even gets his shoes off. He should be ashamed how easy his control snaps when he's around you. When he's even thinking about you. When was the last time Price got so hung up over someone like this? Doesn’t matter. What matters is Price’s vow to feel you cum around him. For him. Giving your orgasm to him like the greedy man he is.

Fuck!

Price’s balls draw up without much warning, unable to deny himself of your pleasure, even in his fantasies. He ruts into his hands before a roar rips from him as he spurts out his load. There’s a nagging in the back of his head that his cum is going to waste-but the thought of putting it inside you, marking you, causes him to leak over even more.

John tumbles into the edges of his bliss, pulsing waves of pleasure lulling him into a comfort state, slouched against his front door. He swims in that space for an unknown amount of time until he’s finally can catch his breath. He leans back against the door for support, not caring about the load of laundry he's got to get done now, thinking of you. My pretty, pretty girl.

A pleased rumble grounds him.

I can't wait to see you again.

next part ->

[ceilidho]

hi dear, hope you’re well!! i’m telling you this in totally good faith, i don’t wanna start anything etc, i just thought i should let you know of this fic i came across earlier named “brick by brick” by @ knightjpg, which plot’s reaaaally similar to your construction worker ghost fic. it’s something that i noticed right away just by reading the summary at the start. again, if it were my fic i’d wanna know so i thought it was best to tell you. have a good day/night💗

omg babe, you might wanna go on ao3 and look at the dates there bc if anything, knightjpg wrote it before me by two full days LMAO!! i appreciate the concern but dw, knightjpg is an awesome writer and im actually a huge fan. (they posted it on tumblr after ao3, so i know it looks later, but it's not)

for future ref, even if it hadn't been published before me, i don't care at all when people have similar tropes/ideas as me. i only care about actual lines of my fics being lifted or someone copying an idea beat per beat (like, they basically rewrote my entire plot). if someone wants to write a bear shifter Price fic, that's not my concern at all - no one can write a story the way that i would (not bragging, i more just mean everyone's writing is unique), so it's not such a huge deal!

[snootlestheangel]

- When she settles in do Price and Nik treat her more like a bear cub?

- Do they have trouble adjusting to have a feline shifter in the house? (Bc bears and cats are very different)

- If Bailey likes water, I know cat stereotype, does Gaz take her for swims bc you’d mentioned she’s brown? Does she kinda remind him of an otter pup?

I feel like they definitely try to but she has none of it. Price was holding her while she was in cat form when he heard a strange thud from somewhere else in their house, so he instinctively put her on the very top of the cabinets (up high=safe from danger but not to such a tiny kitty). Once he determines the threat is only Nik to their dryer, he tries to resume like nothing happened. She immediately starts screaming bloody murder and then hides under her bed once he gets her down. She definitely complains about it during dinner

They do in the sense it's so easy for her to hide or just remain unseen if she wanted to. It's definitely an adjustment period for them to get used to how small she is compared to them when in their shifted forms

Absolutely she loves the water. Hardly swims as a cat, but that's mostly because she's so fluffy, that when she's wet she looks so pitiful. Gaz is dragging everyone to the water constantly

Immediately after Soap and Ghost find her, they take her back to the others, and Ghost passes her off to Gaz to remove his gear. Gaz already shed his vest and stuff, so he's all slouched in his chair holding her against his chest like an Otter would with an Otter pup. So yeah he has a little bit of pup association with her cat form