#captain john price x reader smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

syoddeye · 9 months ago

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the dinner

ceo!price x reader / ~4.4k words

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4 Very special thank you to @sleepyeugene @greatstormcat and @mortuarywriting for beta-ing ♥️ Tagging: @sweetspicynoodles

CW: alcohol, oral sex

Straw. Actual straw. Collected, cut, snipped, and arranged by careful hands to ring a porcelain plate to resemble a bird's nest. A piece pokes the chicken egg in the center, and a thin drizzle of black truffle sluices from the puncture and soaks into the dry, flat bed of mushrooms.

You would do unspeakable things for a lamb samosa.

The drinks are delicious, though the service, along with everything else, proves an adjustment. Two sips into a kir, savoring, the waiter clears the glasses, moving you into the second dish without a word. Each course you pick through transitions the same: with a person clad in a fancy little vest ferrying away three-quarter full glasses and disassembled plates you ruined in search of flavor.

Baffling. Pompous. Wasteful.

Your work anniversary dinner. Your date with John Price.

Across the table, he dines in his own world. He methodically pierces the egg on his nest-plate-thing, peppery black truffle oozing more neatly than your own onto the mushrooms. He prepares a bite, and you trail it to his mouth. His eyes close briefly, and your lip twitches.

Holding back a sigh, you mirror him as you have the whole dinner, a plebeian to his patrician.

The conversation lulled when a former business associate of John's, wife in tow, briefly stopped at the table. You don't remember either of their names, only that their intrusion was the killing blow. Although introduced, the conversation remained limited to the three. By the time they departed for their table, the plates had changed.

John did not help the silence, seemingly content with it. While generous in material ways, the Moynat proof of that, he was stingy when it came to speaking about himself. He masterfully keeps the focus on you, with a special interest in your time at The 141 Group.

But as you reluctantly dominated the earlier conversation, you were not keen to restart it. You let the quiet continue to hold you hostage.

The server takes the remains of the cheese course, the most palatable and normal by far, and he finally speaks.

"Not a fan of French food?"

Your eyes flick up from the napkin in your lap. Unfazed, the server arranges another clean set of flatware. John's elbows rest on the table, poor etiquette for a man of his station, leaning forward until his breath makes the candle flame flicker. He doesn't move to make the server's job easier, forcing them to work around him.

You glance to the waiter, mildly comforted they seem unperturbed, then return to John's question. "I don't mind it."

"You hardly ate."

"I don't think my palate is refined enough for this," You carefully explain. This is a free dinner. This is the head of your company. You're neither impolite nor stupid to accidentally insult the man's taste.

"I doubt your tongue's the problem," He smirks, then lowers an arm to the table and extends a hand, palm up, expectant. Grins when you take it, thumb dragging over the skin. "I'll let you pick dessert."

The profiterole is an olive branch. A delicious one, vanilla cream and chocolate exploding over your taste buds, erasing the earthiness and grit of the earlier courses. Fingers pinching the dessert's accompanying demitasse, you find John studying you. His choux untouched.

"Not a fan of sweets?" You ask, echoing him.

"Not particularly," He pushes the saucer around the candlestick.

You take the pastry. With so much food wasted already, it'd be a shame to let the taste of paradise slip past.

The server never returns to the table. The meal ends when John informs you the car is waiting out front, and he herds you to the coat check with his hand on the small of your back. He helps you into your wool coat, murmuring, "Pity it's cold out."

You know what he means. It took hours and a FaceTime call with Jordan to pick a dress. Your friend wasn't so much of a consultant as she was a soundboard, reassuring you looked good over and over again.

"He said he liked the green," you explained.

"Told you, big sexy pine tree," Jordan teased, voice crackling through the phone speaker.

You wore the dark emerald dress to a wedding years ago with good results. It's formal enough the maître d' didn't stop you at the door, yet simple enough in its construction that you don't feel like a peacock or a tryhard. The silky material clung comfortably to your frame but wasn't too snug and fell to your mid-calf. The slit that cut a generous distance to your thigh invited John's eyes when you slid into the car upon pick-up, followed by his hand. The dress dipped beneath your scapulae in the back, the scoop neckline traveled straight across your cleavage, and the thin straps exposed your shoulders. You feel sexy, and you know you look it, too.

The coat's lining is cool on your skin, contrasting with the heat of John's breath on the back of your neck. Your things back in your possession, he steers you to the exit.

John pulls Alex aside when you duck into the car, and the bodyguard glances over his employer's shoulder. His attention returns within the second, but a smile forms under his neatly trimmed mustache.

With that furtive look, it occurs to you you don't know what's next on the agenda. Given the lack of edible food and stilted conversation, you'd prefer to head home and tuck into the samosas you've dreamt of all evening. Bid adieu to this alternate universe where you kind of date CEOs and own expensive purses. Yet, from your limited experience with John, leaving the man's company is easier said than done.

It's as if he reads your mind.

"Night's young. Thought we might have a drink, if I haven't completely mucked this up."

You frown. "You haven't," It's unfair he gets to self-deprecate, and your immediate inclination is to comfort and dissuade him. Knowing the man could buy your building with pocket change grates against the simmering frustration in your chest. You want to go home and ditch the date, as you have others, but instead, you are agreeable. "I could use a drink."

If he registers a hint of your inner turmoil, he does not show it. The corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile. "Good. Somewhere we need to stop first."

He looks out the window and settles a hand above your knee again. You should break the habit, even if his palm is warm and the gesture scratches an itch you don't want to acknowledge.

You observe him in the periphery. Since this situation began in the copier room, you look up John Price online every few days. He's constantly in the news, whether by mention or for a quote. Each story uses one of three photos, all from the same batch of headshots. Interestingly, he seems to avoid video interviews, though there are three or four soundbites where he's been invited to chime in by a network.

His Wikipedia page contains more information on The 141 Group than his personal life. The section itself is a measly three sentences covering his birthplace, heritage, and when he founded the company. And although you knew it was a long shot, you searched high and low across every social media platform you could think of, reactivated your Facebook, and everything. Nothing. His control over his public image seems as ironclad as his control over the company. You count yourself lucky his command extends only to work. If you wanted to exit the car at the next traffic light, you're sure he'd let you out and wish you a good night.

An idle flex of his fingers on your leg, as if he really is a mind reader, extinguishes the thought.

Neon light punctures the tinted windows of the car. Your head swivels, and you scrunch your nose in recognition. John's brought you to a popular row of nightclubs, and fuzzy memories surge to the forefront of your mind. The taste of cheap tequila on your tongue and playing drunken therapy in crowded bathrooms. It's beyond you why John needs to stop here, but you're not opening that can of worms.

John reaches for the door handle, and your arm shoots out without thinking, curling over his forearm.

"John, wait."

He stops immediately. "Something wrong?"

"Can I stay in the car?" You ask, eyes moving past his furrowed brow to the few clubgoers outside. "I'd prefer to stay here."

John's face slackens, and then he turns away, his shoulders heaving with a short laugh. He shakes his head and pats your thigh. "Alright, but I'll need your order."

Confusion finds its home on your face this time until John gestures with a thumb over his shoulder out the car's rear window. A bright red food truck sits behind the private car, warm light spilling onto the sidewalk. You watch a woman claim a paper tray cradling a doner kebab. The sight sinks claws into your belly.

The want must be plain on your face as John chuckles and cracks the car door open.

"C'mon. Two tiny pastries is a poor meal. I cannot, in good conscience, take you for a drink on an empty stomach."

When you order, and he reaches for his billfold, you quickly tap your phone to the register. Thanking the truck owner, you delight in the cross expression on John's face.

"You covered dinner, I assume, unless you've made an accomplice of me," You joke as you step to the side of the line with the man, your souring mood remedied with the promise of Turkish food.

John's eyes pinch as if trying to sort you out, and then his face drops into a feigned solemnity. "'Fraid so. We'll never be able to return."

"I'm gutted."

"I can tell."

The two of you stand out of the way of the groups loitering outside of the clubs. Alex hovers nearby.

You watch the short lines with a mixture of admiration and worry. It wasn't too long ago you were one of the giggling young women forgoing proper attire to stand in lines to dance and drink. Arms linked with friends, buzzing from the pre-drink, and making eyes at whoever caught your fancy. It's surreal to be back here with John, of all people. He'd look like an ordinary man if he wasn't in a bespoke suit.

A booming voice calls your number, and you retrieve the food. His serving is massive, tricky to transfer.

"I'm starvin'," He mutters, tucking in like a dog gets after a bone.

You, no better, are two big bites into your kebab. You swallow, shielding your mouth with a palm. "I thought you liked dinner. Our first dinner."

John considers you a moment, cheek bulging slightly with a bite. Before he takes another, he smiles sheepishly. "I hate that restaurant."

The admission poleaxes, and you nearly drop the kebab back into its flimsy tray. "But…I saw you absolutely relish that egg dish. With the truffle?"

"I was keeping the sea urchin down."

"That's what that was?" Your stomach twists, suddenly persnickety, recalling the slimy, coral-pink dish preceding the egg and mushrooms. It tasted salty, but you assumed it was another type of shellfish. Mildly scandalized, a bite finds its way to your mouth, but you pause, shy of the target. "If you hate the place, why did you take me there?"

"Thought you might like it."

You snort, wiping the corner of your lips with a disposable napkin. "Well, I didn't," Despite the lightheartedness, a sliver of asperity threads through your tone, and you swipe your tongue over your teeth. "You didn't ask what I like to eat, or where I might want to go for my anniversary date."

"So this is a date."

You glare, thinking how fast Alex might react to you taking a plastic fork to your employer, shelve the twinge in your chest and settle for pointing the prongs accusingly. "You have some nerve, Mr. Price. Taking a young woman, an employee, to dinner without consulting them."

The glint in his eye sharpens in the kaleidoscopic light. "You didn't complain earlier. You didn't ask."

You rapidly lose patience. "Should I ask next time?"

His mouth curls beneath his beard. "Next time?"

That’s it. You pitch the scraps of your food, dab your mouth again, and head for the car. With a huff, you bypass a hesitating Alex and wrench the car door open, your face flaming with embarrassment and irritation. Head of the company or not, he's an ass, deliberately riling you up. When you turn around, mapping the route home in your head, John's broad form cages you between the open door and the car. A quick glance at the American, and Alex turns away, forcing you to focus on the man before you.

"John." You state simply, hoping his name's magic enough a word to compel him to step aside.

"Didn't mean any harm, doll," He rasps lowly, a hair above a whisper. "Thought the place would impress you. I should've asked, I know, but I've made up for it, haven't I?" This close, his eyes appear darker, overcast with how he's backlit.

Lump in your throat, you exhale through your nose and lick your lip, tasting paprika. "I don't appreciate being teased."

John hums. "No?" His eyes switch between yours before giving a nod of understanding. "Noted. Then I'll be direct. I'd like to take you back to mine for a drink, so we can have some privacy," His hand lifts, palm cupping your face, thumb sweeping a cheek. "Get to know each other. Talk."

Talk. Uh-huh.

It's another precipice that every bit of reason in your bones tells you to step back from. Abort, abandon ship – this man is your boss's boss. No, higher than that. A man whose net worth is a question mark in every record you find. A fragmented exasperation comes out in a sigh, more surrender than defeat. As you mused earlier, leaving the man's company is easier said than done.

It's terribly stereotypical – the sleek high rise, the terse doorman, the private lift, all down to the echo of your heels clicking on dark parquet floors leading to his door, the penthouse, naturally.

However, John's home is warmer than you thought it would be for the owner of a company. A mixture of contemporary artwork hangs throughout the foyer, living, and dining area. Designer fixtures and hardware, clean lines melding with traditional pieces, and a color palette trending darker yet somehow rustic. Despite the company's technological bent, you have yet to spot a single smart home device. Whoever he paid to design and furnish his place, you figure they made out like a bandit.

Eyes cast out of floor-to-ceiling windows, you hold a glass of a Grand Cru, a Bordeaux whose name you immediately forget when you clap eyes on the year. The taste of dark cherry and smoke feels like silk and velvet on your tongue, and you savor it. The view's not too bad, either.

"Like it?"

"It'll do."

It's maddening. Going from barely looking the man in the eye in the line for a themed cocktail at a company party to standing in his home, drinking his expensive wine after he's paid for dinner and the purse currently on his dining table. As you take in the skyline, you hold on to that thought. The umpteenth time, you ask yourself, what the shit are you doing here? This is bad. There is no rationalization. The facts are laid bare in your mind: You are younger than him, not indecently so, but enough that your parents and friends would raise a brow. You are his employee and well on the way to breaking half a dozen more rules. You are an average person with bills and debt and stand to benefit from his generosity. You see it coming, the belated realization that hits like a pile of bricks.

The words slip out. Part declaration, part self-reassurance, wholly unformed. "I'm not going to be your…sugar baby, or whatever." You take a swig, fighting a wave of embarrassment.

In the window's reflection, John rocks on his heels. "I didn't think you were. I don't want you to be."

You turn, meeting his gaze when he mirrors you, squinting at the amusement written clearly on his face. "Then why the drinks? The dinner? The purse?"

"You deserve to be rewarded."

"No, no," You insist, shaking your head and lifting a finger. "You don't do this for other employees."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Have you?"

"'Course not."

You snort into the glass and drink deep. "You're impossible. How do you run a company with that attitude?"

John grins wryly in his own glass and ignores the jab. "Mm. Is this you askin' what we're doing here?"

Usually, eye contact is easy. Now, it's a challenge. "I suppose so, yes."

"We're two people enjoying each other's company," John's eyes drag down you shamelessly, ending back on your face with a polite smile as if he didn't blatantly ogle you. "One of whom happens to be in a position to give presents, and possesses the inclination."

It's an intentionally obtuse answer. "You know what that sounds like."

"It bothers you that much? To leave things as they are?"

"'As they are'," You repeat, then venture, "Casual, then?"

John faces you completely, looming. "I prefer to call it friendly."

Your chin lifts. "And you know what human resources would call it?"

"I might have some sway there."

"You'd abuse your power for me?" You scoff.

"I'd do worse, if you asked, sweetheart."

There’s a pause, an opening, and to your surprising delight, John takes it. He leans down for a kiss.

It's a mix of restraint and fervor. John's hand cradles your jaw, deepening the kiss when he realizes you're not running for the exit. His mouth's clearly the dominant player when yours opens without prompting. Any trace of stiffness in your posture melts, and it's a good thing you're holding a half-full glass of wine because you don't know what else it would reach for or where else it would head.

"Get to know each other. Talk," John said. If this is how he wants to get to know you, you accept it, and let him take you to his bedroom.

"This'll wrinkle," John rucks the sheath of your dress up to your waist, fingers appreciatively trailing down your hips until they curve beneath your knees. His eyes follow a similar path, albeit starting from your face.

"I'll bill you for the dry cleaning." You murmur, biting your lip, watching him take in the view. It's intoxicating, the shift in his breathing, the narrowing of his eyes when it reaches the pale gold silk of your thong. It's as sheer as gossamer and carefully stitched with a pretty floral design, the gusset the only solid strip of fabric apart from the band.

The look on his face makes the bit of debt it put you in worth it.

Your smug grin collapses under the crawl of a knuckle down your covered seam, featherlight.

He hums, hands sliding beneath the band. His eyes flick to yours, the blue cloudy with want. His turn to smirk. "This too?"

"John," You warn half-heartedly, knowing what he's actually asking, lift your hips a little, and plant your hands on the bed.

Slowly, John pulls the garment down your legs. A sharp, audible inhale escapes him when his eyes snap to the apex of your thighs, and he tosses the piece of lingerie aside.

John sinks to his knees at the edge of his bed, unhurried, clearly content to observe your sex like it's one of the expensive pieces of art in his living room. His hands return, gliding up your legs to draw circles into the patches of skin on either side of your pussy, smirking again when he hears you gasp. He remains fixated. "Look at you," he purrs, a thumb brushing through the wetness, spreading it deliberately over your clit.

His thumb continues its lazy swipes while his mouth starts kissing a trail up your thighs. You tremble head to toe, anticipation painting everything in a lush haze.

"Fuck," The curse slips out in an aborted hiss you bite back. It's annoying how easily John works you up, his nettling at the food truck to this – he's barely touched you, and speech is suddenly a weakness. Has it been so long since you last saw some action? The brief, scalding memory of your last romp in the sheets plays in your mind. Freshly broken up with, it was a half-baked rebound with a man from a bar you went to alone, stupidly, and took in like a stray dog. Rutted like one, anyway. Come morning, he'd gone, having apparently found the cash in your wallet but not your clit.

A nip brings you back to the present.

"Still with me?"

How many times could you make a rich man doubt himself in one night? Quite the undiscovered talent to discover. "Sorry, yes," You breathe, words working their way out through a shudder, "It's been awhile."

His stroking slows, eyes narrowing at your admission, mouth tracking to its north star.

For a moment, it seems like he might stop or, worse, ask about it. You reach a hand toward him and stop short. "Can you, just–please?"

Without another word, John parts your thighs further apart, fingers digging gently into the sensitive skin. He dips his head lower, warm breath fanning over your pussy. His broad tongue flattens and drags one long lick from your hole to your clit, circling the sensitive bud. He groans, lapping up the first droplets of arousal, huffing your scent with his nose pressing to your curls. One of his hands makes for your ass, holding you in place when you inevitably jerk from the sensation.

His tongue is a wicked thing. Fitting, given his predilection for banter.

You involuntarily cant your hips up to his mouth, his beard scraping. "John!"

His smirk stretches across his lips, and he chuckles. For a second, he pauses. It's deliciously agonizing, the sight of him licking his lip before he returns back between your legs. The delay is long enough to make the next touch of his tongue a pleasant shock.

But he stops again. "Yeah? You want more?" The question is punctuated by a swipe.

You clench at the sheer arrogance in his voice. Maybe you did like being–

"What was that earlier?" His teeth gently, gently rake over your clit. "Something about you not appreciating being teased?" His laugh is downright mean when you practically squeal.

Your face burns, leaning back on an elbow, unable to remain seated with how you shake. "John, please."

Every word laces together with amusement. "Impatient, aren't you? Just want to make this last, sweetheart."

He delves back in, and in the process, he hauls one of your legs over his shoulder. You drop the other arm back to hold yourself up. His hand on your thigh leaves its post to join his efforts, and his middle fingers slide in without preamble - no need, judging by the obscene squelch.

Your head is the next to fall back at an angle, eyes squeezing shut at the slight stretch, hips bucking when he thrusts them shallowly. Gradually pushing deeper, stroking you from the inside out. His tongue makes a slow pass over your seam, licking over where his fingers disappear, and his mouth seals over your clit.

Again, language fails. The incoherent, shattered pleas and curses erupt out of you seem to spur John on. He groans when your cunt tightens its grip on his fingers, the heat in your belly skyrocketing to the peak at a dizzying speed. You know the orgasm will hit hard if it really has been over a year since someone assisted you in reaching one.

"John, please, John," you hurtle towards oblivion, leaving human resources in the dust. You fist his bedding, knuckles flexing, and force yourself to look at him.

John's eyes are open, pupils blown, zeroed in on your face with an intensity that makes you clench once more. He grunts something in response, vaguely encouraging with his big palm on your ass, squeezing and keeping you in place.

When it crests, your back meets the mattress with a cry. John rises slightly to follow your body's momentum, tongue still working fervently, though his fingers stop. He pulls out the digits to grab the ankle of your leg over his shoulder, your own wetness painting over the joint like a brushstroke. He gently removes the limb from its perch, and his mouth slows.

The first hints of overstimulation make you whimper and clumsily reach for the crown of his head, fingers threading through short hair to pull him off.

John detaches himself from your pussy, but not without a few parting kisses.

While you try to gather the pieces of your consciousness flung about, John retracts and stands, rubbing one of your calves. You nearly short-circuit when you meet eyes at last. He's sucking his fingers with the same care he showed at dinner. The first one. He grins.

"My dessert."

You consider chucking his own pillow at his face. The crime of a rich man using a cheap line. It's annoying you still want his cock. You reach for him, fingers hooking around his belt to pull him forward and down, a knee landing between your legs. He ducks his head to meet you halfway for a kiss, your tongue licking over the seam of his mouth, tasting yourself. You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lungs hurt. Now that he's broken your dry spell, it's open season.

Only, he puts a stop to it, pulling back when you unfasten his belt buckle. He cups your face. "I'd rather focus on you right now, sweetheart."

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. "That's not–You don't have to…"

"Hm, I want to see how many times I can make you come tonight." His other hand toys with the thin strap of your dress. "Should get this off you, before I ruin it."

The dress is a lost cause, as with any intention you had of sneaking out in the middle of the night. The dress joins your underwear, and you spend the rest of the evening learning just how generous John Price can be.

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xlysaxo · 11 months ago

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Being Married - Captain John Price Headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 18+ Content [mdni] ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Captain John Price x fem!reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

some (nasty) thoughts i had about being married with John Price.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

❥ Price, who divorced twice, but not because he wasn't a good husband. His first marriage was an impulse marriage. His second divorce was because he was too busy as the new captain. He only had his work on his mind, which put her off.

❥ But Price wouldn't make the same mistake with you - he never wanted to let you go. Divorce was out of the question

❥ Your wedding was a dream and you celebrated with the people you love. He never took his eyes of you. He cried seeing you in a white dress. Beautiful as always and that he can calls you his wife, made him emotional.

❥ He never thought he would get married again. The team makes fun of it all the time. But Price didn't care, because this time he wanted it to be his last wedding and to spend his life with you.

❥ Your honeymoon was full of intimate moments. Price acted as if he was making love to you for the first time. But he quickly got wilder and all he did was take you so often that your pussy was stuffed with his cum. A reminder that you belong to him.

❥ "Every man who sees you and sees the ring will want to know who the lucky one is and what do you say to them?" Your breath was ragged, unable to think, the sound of skin slapping against skin and yet he expects you to give him an answer. His hand grabs your bum before he slaps his hand on it and digs his nails into your skin. "Captain Price!" Your words were just a shout and you hoped he would be satisfied with that. Because all you could do was moan and make noises that didn't make a proper sentence. Price smiled and kissed you on the lips. "Just right, darling. Only I see you fucked silly by my cock”

❥ He's obbssesed with you and every time he sees his ring on your finger, his knees go weak and he wants to intertwine your fingers while he's inside you with his cock so deep you can see stars. He wants to spread that cunt of yours and seeing you all messy. He never takes his eyes off the ring while fucking you. After he made you come twice he grabs your hand and looked at the ring. You really wanted to know what he thinks while he stares at your ring.

❥ One time he come behind you while you make the dishes, his hands around your waist while his crotch rubbing your bump. He was moaning in your ear while grabbing one of your breasts and cupping it with his hand. Feeling his ring on your nibble makes you all wet and he knew that.

❥ Oh and how Price loves to see his ring while his big hands are on your waist. The cold metal presses against your sweaty skin. He didn't know what to focus on. On that or how his cock goes in and out of your wet cunt. "Want to fill you up, my wife," he moaned as everything inside you tightened and almost made him cum. "Not so fast, my hubby" A grin spread across his lips because you knew exactly where his body was sensitive. Then he moved faster inside you, grabbing your waist even tighter while his other hand travelled down and circled your clit. Just like you, he knew your sensitive spots - after all, he is your husband

#call of duty #modern warfare #captain john price #Captain john price x fem!reader #cod smut #cod headcanons #Captain John Price x reader smut #john price #captain price smut

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abs-2020 · 2 years ago

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Captain John Price x Simon Ghost Riley X (F) Reader

Warnings: smut/double pen/daddy k!nk/3some/PinV/

Authors note: this idea has been in my mind for forever. <3

———————————————————————————

“Cmon love, it’ll fit you just need to relax~” John’s hushed words would send shivers down your spine as his lips against the lobe of your ear his scruff only adding to your bliss.

A small whimper would leave your throat at his words a moan of pain a pure bliss following soon after as Simon’s hands gripped your waist like a vice his grunts filling the room as he tried to fit himself in with price.

‘Burn’ and ‘stretch’ were the only two words that filled your mind.

“That-s a good girl, taking me and your daddy’s cocks so well, so fucking well.” Simon would groan out as he threw his head back.

Drool would fall from your lips and pool at prices collar bone as your head rested between the croak of his neck.

You were stuck between the two bulky men, between a wall. Getting ‘double penetrated’, and to be honest you can’t really remember how you got yourself here, all you know is that it’s going to be one hell of a night.

…

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Authors note: to be continued..? Or finished?

#cod mw x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader smut #x reader smut #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #john price x reader #john price #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #price mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 smut

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saschax · 7 months ago

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repatriation.

(n.) return of a thing or person to its or their country of orgin.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: sexual content, overstimulation, degradation (slut), and im not sure what else?

people aged less than 18, please do not raed.

P.S i tried to make it "overly dominant" or "needy", but i dont think i did it..

im sorry, this is my first time writing sex and my head sort of just.. went with the flow? not really thinking of anything. so if you are the requester and is not pleased with this, please let me know and ill try again.

reader is "afab".

price were gone for an operation, however, reader wasn't aware he'd come back home early.

she would've prepared something for him, like dinner, or at least wear something pretty.

when price walks in, she's on the coach. folding up clothes, then puts the folded clothes besides her.

price hums quietly, his eyes looking up and down her form. he made sure to close the door, looking back at her to make sure she didn't hear.

price laughs internally as he walks into the kitchen, the kitchen has two ways of entering or leaving, the kitchen led to the door that led inside and outside of the house, and it also led into the living room- the room reader is in currently.

stopping at the entrance of the living room, now all he could see is the back of her head.

stepping lightly, making sure not to stomp his boots, he makes his way over to her.

now arm distance, he slowly snakes his arm around her neck, of course he had to bend in the process.

he hears her gasp and feels her stiffen in his hold. not a second after, she whips her head, widened eyes blinks at him.

price smiles, watching her face transformed into a happy expression.

"hi baby!" she wriggles slightly, trying to move into a postion where she could hug him back.

"no, dove, stay still." he requests, putting his head into her neck, inhaling her scent.

she giggles quietly, his warm breath tickling. "how was work?" she asks, her hands drifting upwards to hold his arms.

she waits patiently as he hums in thought, his head moved to look down at her.

"it was okay. im happy to be with you." he mumurs the last part, like he didn't want her to hear it.

whether he did or not, reader didn't know but she giggles, confirming price's supsicions she did infact heard him.

"oh, is that so?" she asks, her brows raising. john didn't see it.

"mmhm," he lets go her, going around the couch, his hand and her hand holds eachother, and when he sat down, he was mindful to not ruin her pile of folded clothes.

he kisses her palm, resting his head on her shoulder blade. john feels her hand slowly wrapping themselves around his neck, hugging him.

as price and her continue their intimate moment on the couch, they both feel a sense of comfort and longing for each other.

her hands gently caress price's back as he nuzzles into her shoulder, taking in her sweet scent.

she shifts slightly, unintentionally brushing against price.

she hitches her breath when he inhales sharply at the contact. he opens his eyes, looking at her chin.

she tilts her head back to meet john's gaze, her lips parting in anticipation. his head inches away from her, no longer resting.

john looks up, landing on her eyes for a moment. then he allows his gaze goes downward, on her lips.

without a word- sneaking a glance at her eyes for a moment- john captures her mouth in a kiss, his hunger for her evident in every touch.

during the kisses, reader notices her husband's hands changed positions, he broke the kiss first.

john chuckles as she squeaks, startled of being picked up in a bridal style suddenly.

reader stares at his loving eyes, eyes that is focusing on going to their bedroom than on her. she frowns at this, but john looks down at her with a smile for a flickering moment before looking up.

he must've saw her frown out of the corner of his eyes.

she flinches, her eyes widening. did john just kick the door open?

and without a second thought, john puts her down on the bed.

his gaze burning with hunger as he hovers over her.

"someone's feeling excited," she teases.

john growls softly, his pants feeling tight. his eyes dark with desire, he trails his fingers lightly down her arms, sending shivers down her spine. "hou have no idea how long i've been thinking about this moment," he murmurs huskily.

"i've been waiting for you," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a primal growl, John captures her lips in a fierce kiss, his hands roaming over her body possessively. "you're mine, all mine," he growls against her skin, his breath hot.

He teases her with feather-light touches, igniting a fire within her that threatens to consume them both. "You drive me crazy," he whispers, his voice rough with need.

he slid a finger in easily followed by another and another. When he believed she was fully stretched, he had slid in, burying his cock as deep as he could, breath heavy against her skin.

He didn’t move for a few moments, seemingly savoring the feeling. she sighs softly, it feels enjoyable.

she reaches back, running her hand through his hair. he leans, its feels good.

After a moment he begins fucking into her again, holding her stomach with his hand and he pulls her closer to him.

"john," she whispers.

"jo- oh!" she let out a startled noise, john roughly moved reader, pushing a hand to the back of her head so her face hit the pillows, and pulling her hips up, drilling into her from behind.

she moans loudly, reaching her hand back to try and slow him down only to have it snatched along with her other one and held behind her back.

john lifts her slightly, her back arching as he holds her face above the pillow as his hip slams into her over and over.

"john," she cries out, "please slow down for a second."

her voice was a high whine as she spoke.

"you can take it,” he groans, squeezing her hands a bit tighter. “i know you can. your cunt is taking me so well, i know you don’t need me to slow down.” His hip snaps a bit harder a few times before returning to their bruising pace.

she lets out a loud whines. he picks her up fully, letting go of her hands so he could grip her stomach and hold her to his chest.

he went impossibly deeper, hitting something in her that had her seeing stars as she came around him. 1st.

he chuckles lowly in her ear before laving his tongue from the bottom of her neck to beside her mouth.

"what did i tell you?" he drops her back onto the bed, hand retreating from her stomach to grips her rear. "now, give me another."

a loud moan rips from her throat at the feeling of being so impossibly close to another orgasm after just having one, but his pace was relentless.

she gripped the sheets with shaky hands as he pounds into her, not relenting for a moment. a hand was on her clit again, rolling it expertly, forcing another orgasm from her.

she screams something incomprehensible as she came around him again, but he didn’t stop, his deep laugh filling the room again.

“there we go, dove. you keep count, okay? im going to rip as many as i can from you before you give out. i might not even stop then.” his words and the feeling of him still moving makes her wall flutters around him. “you like that? you like being used like a little fuckdoll? a cumdump just for me.”

she tries speaking, but no word comes out, just a garbled mess of sounds.

he leans over her, pressing a few kisses to her shoulder blades before he finally stills for a moment.

he pulls out, and she makes a noise of confusion.

he flips her onto her back so she could see him.

he plunges into her again in an instant, big hands grips her waist as she tries to pull away.

“come on, dove, be a good little girl and fucking take it.”

her eyes roll back as a hand moves to grope one of her breasts then he bends down, taking the free nipple into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth before sucking. she arches into his touch, mumbling pathetically.

“joh- john-” she cries.

he lifts one of her legs over his shoulder. he presses his lips harsly against her own.

she feels herself approaching a third orgasm, the overstimulation turning her brain into mush.

“That’s it, pretty dove,” he whispers as she convulses underneath him, tears gathering in her eyes.

it was too much, too fast, and she couldn’t even find it in her to be angry as he praised her. “You’re doing so well for me. So, so, good.”

she shakily raises her hands to grip at his back, pawing at the shirt. he grunts at the feeling and lifts himself lightly, discarding the shirt in one swift motion.

when he drops himself back down to kiss me again, she runs her tongue along his, swirling it and moaning, nails digging into his back.

john lets out a quiet moan at the feeling and gave a sharp snap of his hips before returning to his pace.

“stop it.” he growls a warning.

however, she didn't listen- continuing to scratch. "stop scratching me, you bitch-" he thrusts into her hard, making her gasp from shock. her hands finally resting beside her.

when she stops her scratches, he begins sucking on her neck, forcing bruises into the flesh, marks that belongs to him. in the process, he locks her hands above her head.

she blinks blearily at him, eyes heavy lidded.

“oh? Is the pretty baby fucked out of her mind already? we’ve barely even started...”

she mumbles a mess of words and whimpers, pressing herself against his chest as she feels herself cumming again.

his hips faltering as he cums as well, filling her up as he rocks against her gently.

she lets out a sigh, 'is it done?' god, she hopes it is. she don't think her lower region could take another orgasm.

he had came, and that's all he wanted. right?

wrong.

her thoughts got interupted by john pulling out his cock only to be replaced by his fingers. she weakly tries to push his fingers away from her pathetically, a whine slipping from her throat.

"no, john- wait a second," she garbles out, but he just stares at her holding her hips with his free hand, so she didn't move- his fingers still pumping inside of her though.

"john, please just a second!"

she felt gross, his cum mixing with hers and slipping out of her around his fingers and down her ass to the bed, soaking the sheet. tears start to fall down from her eyes at the overstimulation, and she push harder at his hands.

"come on, baby. don't you want to be a good girl for me? a good little slut?" his fingers slow down, not going as fast as it did before.

she cries out as he curls his finger toward the spot in her that made her vision go white.

“I- I wan-na be good, but ple-please,” she cries desperately. “I can’t-can’t.”

"yes, you can." he muses. "you're my good girl, you can take it."

her body flushes at the praise, and her hands still for a moment.

"yeah? you like that? you like being my good little girl? my little babydoll who takes what I give her. you think you can give me another one?"

she shakes her head, no. but she couldn't deny the coil in her stomach tightening again. her lower region practically sucking his fingers back in.

"wanna cum again, little dove? be a good girl for me?" he teases, edging her on.

she opens her mouth in a silent scream as she came again, her vision going blurry with white as her body tenses, shaking lightly.

john smiles at her, leaning down to kiss her, grinning in the action.

she paws at his lower stomach, one of the only places she could reach and she made a confused noise at how wet he is.

john chuckles, breaking the kiss. she looks up at him, expecting an answer.

an answer she never got.

his hands, paused, gave his wife some time to regain her breath. after deciding she had enough break, he continues. his other hand joining it by pressing against her clit before rolling around in circles. “You’re doing so well.”

"i- i" she lolls her head to the side, going numb.

john waches her close her eyes, watches her leans her head against the pillow. then one of his hands pulls her leg from his shoulder and drops it to the bed.

grabbing both of her legs and pushes it up, pressing her legs against her chest.

he watches her hand reach out weakly, he heard whimpers from her mouth as he enters again, cock pressing as far as it could inside of her.

fuck, its hot, warm. with a grit of his teeth, drowning his moans, he pulls out almost all the way only to push back in.

"john," she whimpers. and god, does it sound heavenly. makes him want more.

he lets out a low breath, and presses a hand to her face, thumb running along her cheekbones. "yeah, dove?" he groans out the last word, her wall clenching around him.

"please."

he chuckles lightly and sinks in again. her mouth slightly parts, drool coming out of her mouth.

he groans as he pulls out slowly and then push in, his pace slow enough to make reader squirm. "just one more, huh, dove? one more? that's all i want."

she whimpers and closes her eyes as his pace picks back up, not as intense as the last time. thankfully for her, but its enough for her breath to get caught in her throat. she feels something picks her hand up (she still held her eyes close) and holds it to his mouth gently, kissing the palm as he holds it to his face, something oddly soft as he drills her into the matress.

just one more? i could do one more. she groans to herself as he leans forward.

she opens her eyes, her gaze landing on john.

"wann-nna be goo-ood," she slurs out, his hips stars to falter again, slowing as if to draw it out.

he hums deeply, he then press another kiss to her palm. "then cum, dove. be good and cum."

her body, as if wanting to just follow his orders, came for a final time. that was all she feels before she finally went slack, passing out.

P.S köng version will be coming out in a few dazs or so, i dont know him so, research. i cringed writing this, but im getting. used.. to it.

#john price #captain price #price cod #cod #task force 141 #call of duty #john price x reader #john price x reader smut #captain john price x reader #captain john price x reader smut #reader #x reader #x you #x you smut #task force x reader #task force x reader smut #tf 141 #cod mw2 #smut

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ethereal-night-fairy · 7 months ago

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Captain John Price

AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Mafia!Price drabble with @groguspicklejar

My latest addition to this is here

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, ansgt and breeding kink.

Slasher!Price - Headcanons

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#captain john price #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader smut #captain john price x female reader #captain price mw2 #captain johnathan price #john price call of duty #john price cod #john price x reader #john price smut #john price #john price x reader smut #john price x innocent!reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #mafia!price

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mslowlife · 2 years ago

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Distracted

18+ ONLY NSFW

Pairings: Captain John Price x Fem!Reader Warnings: SMUTTTTT Summary: After an interesting night with Price, you find yourself daydreaming about him during a particularly important meeting. Word Count: 741

C/S = Callsign

A/N: Lowkey had no clue what to write ;-; been very busy last few days so apologies if this isn't very long or interesting.

“Quiet, no one can hear us” he hushed into your ear. His voice was coarse and deep, yet so seducing. you enjoyed being so exposed, where anyone could catch you two in a seconds notice.

You weighed yourself into him more, your body twitched like a bubble about to pop, the foreplay, the teasing, the fact this was happening drove you insane. You still remember the nights you fantasized this. Your hand would be in your pants, imagining your own captain treating you like you were his. pleasuring you, teasing you so well, owning you. How you would moan his name so quietly, hoping no one would hear, especially him. The bear thought of Price left you in your own little world, imagining things so dirty.

His fingers went lower and lower, until they struck gold. you choked out moans, as his finger rubbed your clit. Price quickly placed his hand over your mouth, trying to silence your lewd noises. His fingers circled your-

“Y/N! Are you listening?” Laswell shouted from across the room, death staring at you as you swung your feet from the chair.

“Uh-huh, yes ma’am” You stuttered, your cheeks turning red. Clearly not listening. How could you focus to be fair? Last night was a completely unexpected, you never thought you'd fuck the captain.

“Everyone has notes, go through them, familiarize yourself. Meet back here in an hour” She ordered, Laswell kept her eyes on you for a moment, before spinning around and pinning her notes to the board behind her.

As Laswell said that, the other men stood up, holding their files and exiting the room. You followed along, picking up your paperwork and trailing behind.

Still in your own little world, you dawdled to the cafeteria, trying to collect yourself after your dirty reminders of last night. Spreading the notes out on the metal table, you sat down, skimming over the notes, before noticing a figure approach you.

“Uh- captain, morning” As you spoke, your eyes gazed over his body, specifically paying attention to his neck. Closer to his collar, where dark red marks showed, you silently cheered to yourself, admiring your handiwork.

“Morning, C/S” He said, sitting beside and peering at the paperwork.

“You seemed… distracted… at Laswell's conference.” He noticed, watching as your hands flicked the pages.

“Yeah, jus’ a little” You answered, adjusting your shirt slightly. Why did you have to feel so nervous and awkward around him?

“Why?” He asked again, shifting his body just a tad closer to you.

“Just stuff” You replied, awkwardly flicking through the pages, even though you’ve already read them.

“Was it me?” He whispered, before discreetly moving his hand onto your thigh, then moving closer to your inner thighs. You gasped, before swiftly covering your mouth with the back of your hand, attempting to play off the sudden noise as a yawn.

“Were you thinking of me, Y/N?” He reinforced, asking again. You quickly scanned the cafeteria, noticing the room was empty to your luck.

“Mhm” You gulped, feeling his hands edge closer.

“During a meeting? Not very professional C/S.” His warm breath tickled your ears as he spoke.

Even though Price was egging you on, thinking of your Captain like that was quite inappropriate. But how could you not?

“Isn’t this appropriate?” You sarcastically remarked back, referring to his hand buried in between your thighs.

“Maybe. But, you enjoy it. Don’t you?” He marvelled.

“Uh- yes, but shouldn’t we be careful? What if someone sees?” You nervously asked, gesturing to the wide open doorway, where anyone could walk by at any given moment

“Mmm, but you’d like them to see, wouldn’t you love? You didn’t seem to mind last night” He purred, massaging the flesh on your legs.

“Mhm” You hummed, “I do, but-”

“Then shush” He commanded, using his other hand to grab your hips and slide you closer. You squirmed under his touch, facing towards him, as he softly kissed you once, before pulling away. You choked on your breath as he pulled away, whining quietly as a stood up, towering over you.

“Captain- what? Where are you going?” You cried out, looking up at him.

Reaching down to your face, Price cupped your chin, giving your cheeks a small squish because speaking

“To my office. Be there in an hour”

“Yes sir” You agreed, disappointed after the loss of contact as he walked away.

Fuck. What had you gotten yourself into.

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prettyoatmeal · 1 year ago

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Thinking about BratTamer!Price...

Like I know I've already written him something but I just can't stop thinking about it. He's been on my mind ever since. How if you're acting up then he'll just so casually bend you over his knees, pull down your slutty little shorts and give you a nice and firm SMACK! And with the kind of force that would jolt you forward.

It hurts so bad but it feels so good, instantly forgetting what you were pissed off about. He'll make you count each one until each cheek goes a pretty red and numb from the stinging (which lets be honest, doesn't take long), and... why were you upset again?

And once you're crying your pretty little tears, he's apologising profusely and rubbing cooling gel on your poor, raw skin. He's cooing at you, pressing kisses all over you, maybe even eating you out from behind as a way to say sorry. All that attitude has been smacked out of you successfully and now you can go back to being his pretty little trophy spouse.

Mnnghh... someone sedate me..

Masterlist here!

#call of duty #cod mw2 #John Price x reader #Captain Price x Reader #John Price Imagines #Captain Price Imagines #John Price Fluff #Captain John Price Fluff #MW2 x reader #John Price Smut #John Price x Reader Smut #Captain John Price Smut #Captain John Price x reader smut #Captain Price x reader Smut #Captain Price Smut

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crimsonbubble · 1 year ago

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Need ur take on pregnant reader getting it from the side by price 🙏🙏🙏 I love that elderly man

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, pregnant!reader, praise *not proofread, just pure horny

[HES SO SJSLSNDHDI] I hope this has any sort of accurate 😭😭

MINORS DNI!!

so so loving and gentle

he'll hold your leg up by your thigh

his pace is moderate bc he doesn't want to hurt you

even if you reassure him that you'll be okay, he'll go softer on you bc there's a chance that's your words are your hormones talking

but if just his dick isn't enough, he'll push your thigh up his forearm so he can play with your clit

can't stop kissing your neck, shoulders and back

the sweetest praises bc he's just so 🥰🥰

"just like that, honey."

"you're doing so fucking good for me."

"a little more, yea?"

"god, I love you so much."

"you're so fucking beautiful."

"c'mon, let me hear you. nice and loud for me, yea?"

#bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #bubbly writes <3 #cod x reader #cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod smut #cod x reader smut #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price x reader smut #john price #john price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x reader smut

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ethereal-night-fairy · 5 months ago

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Lev you can't just leave the good parts in the tags like that 😭

John deciding to blow off steam by subscribing to a cute camgirl's onlyfans account and quickly becoming the top contributor. a harmless way to relax, and spoil a pretty girl with gifts and money, the sort of thing he doesn't have time for in his personal life but craves. hungers for. pays for lingerie and toys, private shows and videos. eagerly devours any time she has to spare on him, but the more he gets to know her, the more obsessed he becomes. the more possessive. wanting. monopolizing all of her time so that she never has a minute to spare on others.

and then she sends him a birthday video. congrats on your fortieth, she whispers into the camera, wearing the ensemble he bought for her. a mould of his cock in her hands, a whim he decided to go for after she pouted at him for a few minutes about how she wanted to feel him inside of her. or a (not so) cheap imitation, anyway. it's good. so good. she's perfect. and all his for tonight.

but she makes a mistake. his kitten is so good at hiding her face, her features. keeping herself a mystery. but as she gives him the sexiest performance he's ever seen, she slips up. shows more of herself than she wants to.

wish i could say happy birthday in person, she winks at him through the cheap plastic of her mask. a fox. isn't she coy? but it's an invitation he won't turn down.

after all, it'd be rude not to give the cute little secretary that greets him every morning exactly what she asked for, wouldn't it?

#captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x reader smut #price smut #captain price smut #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #Before reading the tags i initially thought it would be a local librarian or barista #someone he'd see often enough to recognise but didn't see the need to interact with unless necessary #Obviously that changes when he sees her face #Now he's leaving cryptic comments when he sees her at her day job making her panic and think her OF got leeked #She's scrambling to delete everything thinking someone has figured out its her in real life and she doesn't want that :(#John isn't happy her OF profile is gone...#i wonder what he'll do...

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abs-2020 · 1 year ago

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Captain John price x (fem) reader

~Aye Aye sir~

Summary: a new and alluring man unexpectedly moves in next door to you his hulking frame and calm nature drawing you in..

Warnings:(nothing too serious yet) masturbation/explicate images/detailed images/almost getting ran over???

A/U: I didn’t really know what to title this but I’m if anyone has a better suggestion let me know? This is definitely going to have multiple parts tho.. and possibly Simon Riley.

———————————————————————————

Your heart was pounding and your chest thumping as sweat ran from your forehead trickling down to your cleavage. Each breath you took was quick and sharp as music blasted in your ears. Each step you took light and swift. You were running, a nice and peaceful morning run. And your body felt like it was beaming with pride and joy each step of the way. This was your favorite part of the day. A morning run. They were always peaceful, long, and never interrupted.

Of course that was until you were making your way across the street only to be met with the sound of screeching tires and a honking horn.

A gasp would leave your throat as you jumped back from a giant silver Ford F150 truck. Salty sweat dripped into your eyes as your heart now raced 10x more than before.

‘Asshole…’

Anger would flash across your eyes in a shimmer as your face contorted with the emotion.

“Asshole!” You’d shout as your brow furrowed.

“FUCKING ASSHOLE!”

Anger would swell inside of you, the powerful emotion caused you to slam your fist against the hood of the truck as you started into the sunglasses of the driver. He looked unfazed his plump lower lip pressed into a hard line, the top one hidden beneath what you had to sadly admit to yourself was a ‘killer beard’. You’d shake your head again.

“Watch where you’re going you dumbass!” You’d shout again.

With that you’d flip the driver off one last time before feeling pleased enough to continue your run with a shake of your head.

‘Idiot.’

———————————————————————————

The slam of a car door and the click of a lock fillyour ears as you struggld to carry all of your groceries in your arms. A small grunt would push its way past your lips as you balanced evening in your arms. You looked like what you could only imagine to be a cartoon character and it had you cringing on the inside as you held onto a carton of eggs with your chin praying to god that ‘they don’t fall and crack open’

You’d squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and sigh

“God damn it..” but you’d quickly shake your head and make your way to your front door. If all of this was going to fall it might as well fall while you’re trying to get it to your DAP(distant aiming point).

“Aye, let me help ya with that why don’t cha?”

The accent of what you could only imagine to be a British babebrute filled your ears. Hastily you looked to the left and right of you only to hear a ‘panty dropping’ chuckle.

Whoever was behind you was probably new, someone who’d just moved into the right next to you area you though to yourself. Either that or he’s stayed hidden for a long time.

“At your six love~”

Your eyebrows would shoot up at the name ‘love?’ Your quickly ignore the heat growing in your lower abdomen at the foreign nickname and shake your head. ‘It’s probably a British thing.’ You told yourself.

With a sign you’d turn around. Your grip on your groceries tighter than before. You weren’t 100% when it came to military stuff or knowledge but you knew enough to know what ‘six’ meant. You’d paint a smile on your lips as you turned around to face the new Britain behind you.

“Uh yeah, some help would be nic-“

Your mouth would drop into the shape of an ‘o’ as you can face to face with the man in front of you.

“YOU!”

You’d shout as your brows furrowed at the realization of who the man in front of you was. And he seemed to catch on just as quickly because his eyes widened in realization as he took a small step backwards. And if you were totally honest the small step backwards didn’t help much, because this guy was huge, massive even. His shoulders were wide wide enough to block anything else behind him whistle he stood in front of you. his arms and pecks seemed to bulge out of the way to small grey shirt he was wearing. And you wouldn’t even get started on his forearms, But it wasn’t only his muscle mass, ‘oh god no’ you thought to yourself it was also his height. A good ‘6ft something’ you thought to yourself as you all but oogled(eye fucked) the man in front of you.

And he seemed to notice, a certain tilt of his head and an observant glint in his eyes all but told you he did. He noticed your wandering eyes. He didn’t saying anything though.

Quickly you’d contain yourself and furrow your brows even more your lips twisting into a frown.

“you, you are the idiotic asshole that almost ran me over this morning because your dull ass must’ve been to blind to see me!” You glare up at the bearded brute “either that or you just drive like old people fuck, and that’s bad.”

The Britain’s eyes would widen at your words his mouth falling into a small ‘o’ the expression quickly turning into a faint smirk. You would’ve missed it if you weren’t looking at his lips. Again the Britain would chuckle, sending more heat to your lower abdomen. You’d internally curse yourself for having that kind of reaction to the man that almost ran you over this morning.

His smirk would turn into a smile his facial hair covering most of the upright curve of his lips, it would’ve been hard to miss but his eyes, ‘god his eyes’ you thought to yourself. They were so full of emotion and expression. The little creases that formed around his eyes as he smiled almost melted your heart. Almost..

“Well, I’ll take that as a no then eh?” The brute would make an ‘oh well’ gesture as he casually pivoted to the right and made his merry way back to wherever the hell he came from.

Reality would finally kick in as your anger quickly subsided and turned into regret watching the Brute Britain walk away. Now you had to show how manage to hold all these groceries while you got the house key from your pocket and then above all that some how manage to open the front door.

All by yourself.

Now you were the idiot.

———————————————————————————

You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t believe or think that the Britain(next door) was the most beautiful and drop dead gorgeous man you’d ever seen. You’d be an idiot to deny that fact. Downright stupid, so when your fingers started to fiddle with the elastic waistband of your underwear who could blame you? You sure as hell wouldn’t blame yourself. ‘Sure he almost ran me over.’ You though to yourself as your fingers slipped under the elastic fabric and started to inch they’re way to your little bundle of nerves. Slowly, inch by inch, tantalizingly. Images of the brute flashed in your mind a small gasp leaving your throat when the small pads of your fingers finally touched your clit.

You’d bite your lip at the image played out in your head. It wasn’t you touching you, it was him. The British brute. His thick and what you could imagine calloused and rough fingers rubbing slow and tantalizing circles on your clit while his other hand went to rub the tent forming in his black sweats. His deep azul eyes staring right into your pleading one’s, watching, observing every little reaction that came from you. Your face contorting, lips twitching in pleasure, eyebrows furrowing, watching how fast your chest rises and falls, the way your toes curl, hell he even went as far as to listen in on every peep you made so he knew exactly what to do. that’s what the military trained him to do.

Well you could only imagine and assume he was former or still in the military. There was no doubt about it. You’d been around enough military men to know when you see one. For better or for worse…

A small moan would leave your throat at the scene playing out in your head your fingers making quick and needy circles as your hips bucked up into your own hand and your thighs began to tremble. Your chest would rise and fall your breaths heaving as you tried to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Getting closer and closer to your wanted high.

His shoulders were huge, wide, and firm. He took up your whole view. He took up everything. He was all you could see, smell, or focus on. And his forearms were no different, his forearms were massive. You watched each muscle contract as his fingers danced around your clit his veins protruding in the most slutry way.

“Yeah that’s right love, come undone with just my fingers. Look and see what I can do to ya.”

Another moan would leave your throat, you were just about to hit your high.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,-“ you whispered only to be interrupted by 3 harsh knocks on your door.

“Fuck..”

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A/N: sorry I haven’t been writing as much I do apologize, but I hope this will suffice for a bit. This is supposed to be like a series for THIS little “short fic/Drabble” of mine since y’all said you wanted more. Anyways uh I hope you enjoy. :) <3

#captain john price #captain price #captain john price x reader smut #john price x reader #john price #John price x reader smut #call of duty mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #price mw2 #cod smut #smutty fanfiction #fanfiction #18+ fanfic #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #smut

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