#captain john price x y/n

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material Ch 9 (Captain Price Fic) - The Set Up!

Chapter 1  Chapter 1 (Shorter Version) Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8

@darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal(To the other’s who want me to tag you when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments) A/N: Hello, everyone! So, it seems the Captain has you right where he wants you. No matter how much you try to slip away, there’s no escaping him—he’s determined, and he will have you. 😉 This chapter might feel a little longer as I’ve focused on building up the chase and the tension between you two. But I promise, it’s worth it! If you’re feeling impatient, feel free to scroll ahead to when the Captain finally ‘captures’ you. 😏 LOL! Enjoy the ride, and let me know what you think! ❤️

The door creaked open, and in stepped the doctor, holding a clipboard with the results of Y/N's x-rays and scans. He gave her a once-over, then glanced at the paper before meeting her eyes.

"Alright, Ms. Y/N, good news. No concussion, your neck’s just a little twisted from the impact. Your arm, though—well, that’s definitely going to need some time to heal, but we can work with it." He made a note, looking at her bandaged face. "The cuts on your face will need some care, but nothing too serious. Just take some painkillers when you eat, and you should be good to go."

Y/N sighed in relief but winced at the sting of her injuries. She was just about to ask if she could leave without the next part when the doctor added, “Now, we need someone to sign for you to be discharged and for the medication prescription. I’m assuming your partner—” He paused, glancing at Price, who was still leaning against the bed, looking annoyingly perfect—“can handle that?”

Before Y/N could protest, Price was already nodding, a smirk playing on his lips. "Aye, I can do that," he replied smoothly, as though he’d been expecting it.

The doctor, clearly oblivious to the irritation bubbling up inside her, glanced between them with a raised eyebrow, then nodded and scribbled something down on his clipboard. “Great. I’ll get the paperwork ready. Just make sure she follows the painkiller instructions.”

Y/N glared at Price, her good arm crossed over her chest. “I swear, if you start acting like we’re actually a couple—”

Price shot her a quick, playful wink. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, love!”

The doctor left, and Y/N turned to look at Price, narrowing her eyes. “You’re unbearable,” she muttered.

Price leaned in closer, his voice lowering to something almost flirtatious. “You know you like it.”

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes, but it was impossible to ignore the spark of something—embarrassment, frustration, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of... affection?

As the minutes dragged on, Y/N lay there, staring at the sterile ceiling, her mind racing but her body unable to do anything more than ache in protest. Price sat beside her, arms crossed, exuding a mix of concern and frustration, and it was clear to her that the tension between them was building. The hum of hospital activity around them did nothing to break the silence, only adding to the weight in the air. She could feel his eyes on her, practically searing through her skin, and she didn’t know if it was his gaze or the pain in her arm that was making her more uncomfortable.

Finally, Price broke the silence with an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got some bloody nerve, you know that? Running around like a madwoman, getting yourself hurt like that.”

Y/N turned her head towards him, raising an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement breaking through the discomfort. “Excuse me?”

He leaned forward, his voice low but filled with that trademark commanding tone she couldn’t escape. “The moment I found out... and then seeing all those bloody gifs from your colleagues flooding the chat... I knew I had to come see for myself. Make sure you weren’t in a body bag. All for what? A USB?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt trying to creep in. “I wasn’t the one in the body bag, now was I?”

“No, but you nearly bloody were!” He shot back, his voice sharp with frustration. “You fought someone twice your size, for god’s sake. What the hell were you thinking? And that slap to your face—” He gestured toward the ugly bruise on her cheek. “That wasn’t exactly part of the plan, was it?”

Y/N winced at the reminder but quickly covered it with a snarky smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I have asked them to go easier on me? I had to do what I had to do, Price. That USB had information that would’ve blown the whole operation to pieces. If I didn’t keep it safe, we’d be looking at a lot more than a bruise on my face.”

Her tone shifted, just a touch of defiance in her voice. “I did what I had to do. And they fought the wrong bitch. Unfortunately for them, though, I’m too bloody good at what I do.”

Price scowled, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer. “Don’t make it sound like it’s just another day at the office, Y/N. You’re not invincible. You can’t just take a hit and keep moving.” His voice softened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze remained. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Her eyes softened, a small, almost imperceptible smile pulling at her lips, but she wasn’t about to let him have the last word just yet. “What do you care? I’m an operator. It’s my job. It’s not like—”

She stopped, realizing she had said too much. But before she could backpedal, Price cut her off, his voice suddenly more serious.

“I care because, damn it, I don’t want to see you thrown around like that. You’re not just some bloody operator to me.”

The way he said it, with so much sincerity, made her heart stutter in her chest. His usual teasing edge was gone, replaced by something raw, something real. She didn’t know how to respond, how to fight back against the warmth creeping up her neck.

“John…” she whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She wanted to say something sarcastic, to brush off the strange flutter in her chest, but his steady gaze had her frozen. It was almost as if, for the first time, he was letting her see the concern behind the bravado.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, haven’t you?” he said softly, almost to himself.

Y/N was silent for a moment, her pulse racing. She didn’t know what to say, how to make light of it, how to respond without revealing too much. Finally, she simply said, "You should probably stop before you start singing ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love’."

Price’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. But then his expression shifted—his gaze darkened, those piercing blue eyes locking onto hers with such intensity that her breath hitched. It was the look. The one that said more than words ever could.

Y/N felt her stomach flip, her heart racing faster than she could process. She tried to look away, but his stare held her captive, his blue eyes pulling her in like a magnet. The room seemed to shrink, the noise of the hospital fading into nothing as she became acutely aware of every inch of him sitting so close. She felt her face heat up, warmth spreading across her cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Price…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She had to look away, had to break the spell he’d cast over her. But her body wouldn’t cooperate. Her eyes fluttered, and for the first time, she couldn’t find the right words to shield herself from the effect he had on her.

He leaned in just a little, his gaze never leaving hers. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice low, the teasing edge gone, replaced by something softer. Something that made her heart feel like it might burst out of her chest.

Y/N had never wanted to look away more in her life, but she couldn't. She swallowed hard, her mind spinning in a haze, cursing the fact that her face was no doubt as red as a tomato.

"Never mind," she muttered, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She quickly turned her head, avoiding his intense gaze, though she could still feel the weight of it on her skin.

Her eyes darted to the side, desperate to find something—anything—to focus on other than him. But she swore she caught the smallest, most self-assured grin tugging at the corner of Price’s lips. It was as though he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and it made her feel utterly exposed.

She shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of how her pulse quickened every time she thought about his gaze. She didn’t know how to escape it, and for the first time, Y/N realized there was no hiding from the effect John Price had on her.

----------

Price insisted on driving her home, a suggestion that, under normal circumstances, Y/N might have entertained. But these weren’t normal circumstances. She was still too suspicious, too guarded to let him know where she lived. The last thing she needed was him showing up unannounced, and she wasn’t about to let him in on that little detail.

“I’m fine, Price,” she said quickly, sitting up a little straighter. “I’ll head to the unit’s base. My stuff’s there, and I’ve got work tomorrow. I’ll be better off just sleeping there for the night. You know, book in at camp, like we sometimes do.”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening in that way she knew all too well. “Book in? You sure about that? Something smells off.”

Y/N waved him off with a feigned nonchalance, trying her best to sound convincing. “I’m fine, seriously. No need to worry about me.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got that ‘I’m trying to get away from you’ look on your face. What’s really going on?”

She met his eyes, her resolve firm. “Nothing’s going on. Just, you know, work stuff. Base. I'll go home tomorrow.”

Price just stared at her for a moment longer, then sighed, clearly giving in to whatever bizarre reasoning she had going on. “Fine. If you’re so determined, I’ll take you back to the base. But this isn’t over.”

“Great, thanks,” she muttered, trying to suppress a grin. She had won this round.

----------

Once they arrived at the unit’s base, Y/N made a swift exit, eager to put some space between herself and Price. She stepped out of the lift, onto her floor, and walked briskly down the hallway toward the unit’s office. Before she could make it inside, however, a loud chorus of voices stopped her in her tracks.

Her colleagues had clearly been waiting for her, and as she stepped into the room, they erupted into loud cheers and applause.

“Look who’s back! The turtle’s shell is tougher than we thought!” one of them called out with a wide grin, prompting an exaggerated cheer from the others.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop it, you lot. I didn’t ask for a bloody welcome back party.”

Another colleague, waving a mock trophy above his head, added, “Give it up for Y/N, the toughest of them all! No one’s messing with the turtle!”

Her teammates were practically in hysterics, and the teasing continued for several minutes before it finally died down. Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to keep her composure, but deep down, she couldn't help but feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest. It was moments like this—surrounded by her quirky, loyal team—that made all the madness of the job worth it.

“Alright, alright,” she said with a raised hand in mock surrender, her grin impossible to hide.

As her colleagues finally began to disperse, she let out a deep breath, still chuckling at their ridiculous antics. But despite the laughter, her mind wandered back to her earlier encounter with Price—and how, for a brief moment, she almost didn’t mind the idea of him getting a little too close.

----------

Later that evening, Captain Price discovered the truth. Y/N wasn’t staying the night at the base as she had claimed. He saw her—half waddling, half hopping—onto the unit’s bus just as it was about to depart. It was meant to take staff to the nearby train station, a clear sign that she was heading home despite her earlier insistence.

The sight of her settling into a window seat on the crowded bus made him pause. Y/N, caught off guard, locked eyes with him through the glass. Her face froze in surprise for a split second before she quickly turned her head, pretending she hadn’t seen him. Her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her bag as she tried to appear indifferent.

Price stood there outside, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t have to say a word; the weight of his stare said enough. Y/N could feel it pressing on her even as she resolutely avoided looking back.

Her only saving grace was that tomorrow was the weekend. She wouldn’t have to face him—or his inevitable questions—for at least two days. ----------

Y/N stretched lazily on her sofa, her stomach pleasantly full from her third takeout meal of the weekend. A collection of cartons cluttered her coffee table, evidence of her commitment to staying in. Wrapped in her coziest blanket, she scrolled idly through the endless void of streaming options, her mind blissfully blank—except for the persistent notifications on her phone.

Captain Price.

The messages had started Friday evening, a steady stream of charm, wit, and mild exasperation, each one left on read. Ignoring him had been easy at first, the kind of defiance that felt both amusing and oddly satisfying. But by Sunday, the guilt was beginning to creep in, as was the awareness that she was, perhaps, enjoying his attention a little too much.

Friday Evening Price: "Ah, so you are seeing these. Leaving me on read, are we? Cheeky. How about this: a quiet drink, no fuss. Just say the word, and I’ll pick the spot."

Saturday Morning Price: "Still not a peep from you. I’ll bet you’re curled up in bed, hiding under a duvet and feeling quite smug. Enjoy it while you can, love. I’m not that easy to ignore."

Saturday Lunchtime Price: "Alright, Y/N. What’s it going to be—coffee, tea, or something stronger? Whatever it is, my treat. Unless, of course, you’ve decided to make ghosting me your weekend hobby."

Saturday Evening Price: "You’ve got a talent for this, I’ll give you that. Leaving me on read again. What’s the matter, too shy to say no? Let me make it easy for you—just meet me for a bite. No questions, no pressure. Don’t let me starve alone, eh?"

She chuckled softly at that one, but still didn’t respond. Her takeaway had arrived moments later, and her commitment to laziness outweighed any inclination to text back.

Sunday Morning Price: "You’re relentless, aren’t you? Can’t even send me a cheeky little ‘no thanks.’ Fine, I’ll play your game. But if you’re still hiding come midday, don’t think I won’t find out where that flat of yours is."

Her eyes lingered on that one a little longer, her lips twitching into a smirk. She shook her head and set her phone aside. He was bluffing. Probably.

Sunday Lunchtime Price: "Alright, love, this is getting predictable now. Another takeaway, is it? No shame in admitting you’ve run out of ideas. Let me take you somewhere. I promise I won’t bite… unless you ask."

Her laughter bubbled up unbidden as she read the latest message, a part of her almost tempted to respond. But the lure of her blanket and the promise of another nap won out. She placed her phone face down and curled up, thinking smugly that he’d give up eventually.

But then, her phone buzzed again. This time, something about it made her pause. She reached for it hesitantly, her heart skipping a beat as she unlocked the screen.

"You’ve got a wicked streak, leaving me hanging like this. But fair warning, Y/N—I’m even more wicked when I’m crossed."

A moment later, another message buzzed in.

"Monday’s coming, love. You think you’ve won this little game of hide and seek, but let me tell you exactly how it’ll play out. First, I’ll find you the second you walk into the office. Don’t bother looking for an escape—I’ll already be there, waiting."

"And when I do, you’ll have to face me, love. Every glance you’ve been dodging, every word you’ve ignored—it’s all catching up to you. I’ll stand so close you’ll feel my breath against your ear, hear every word I’ve been saving just for you."

"I’ll tell you how much I’ve enjoyed watching you test me all weekend, how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing that pretty face go red when you realize you’ve pushed me too far. And then, Y/N, I’ll make sure you know exactly what happens when you leave me on read again. Ignoring me wasn’t the safer option, was it?"

Y/N’s hand froze mid-swipe on her phone, her heart thudding against her ribs. She could practically feel the heat of his gaze through the screen. The words lingered like a challenge, daring her to respond, but instead, her thoughts raced.

Monday loomed ahead, and with it came the inevitability of seeing Price. If he caught her, there’d be no way to avoid the fallout. The office teasing would go from lighthearted to unbearable in an instant. After all, they were already buzzing with rumors that Captain Price fancied her. The jokes and side-eyes were one thing, but if she gave him an inch, it could spiral into something far worse.

Unprofessional. Embarrassing. Impossible to ignore.

She reminded herself that this wasn’t forever. Just one more week. One week of keeping her head down, playing cordial when necessary, and dodging Price’s relentless pursuit. When her reservist period ended, she could vanish—no awkward confrontations, no more tension.

With that plan in mind, she took a deep breath, determined to defuse the situation. Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, finally drafting a reply she hoped would put him off—without fanning the flames.

"I’m sorry, Captain, for the late response. My dominant hand is the one injured, and I can’t really type easily," she typed, knowing it wasn’t entirely a lie. Her arm had been hurt during the operation and again when she got hit by the police van. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

She hesitated before adding, "As for drinks and dinner, sorry—I’m not feeling well. The painkillers and meds are making me drowsy." Another half-truth.

Satisfied, she hit send, her heart still pounding as the message delivered.

A few minutes after sending the message, her phone buzzed again—this time, a call. She wasn’t even surprised. Of course, it was the Captain.

Y/N stared at the screen, debating whether to answer. She had already crafted the perfect excuse in her message; surely that should have been enough. But the insistent ringing told her otherwise. With a sigh of resignation, she tapped the screen, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Captain,” she said softly, infusing her voice with just enough weariness to sell her excuse. She wasn’t feeling her best, that much was true, but she leaned into the sluggish tone, exaggerating it just a touch.

His deep voice cut through, warm and laced with concern. “You don’t sound well, love. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I didn’t want to trouble anyone,” she replied carefully, keeping her tone neutral. “It’s nothing serious, just the meds making me tired.”

“Still, you should’ve let someone know. You’ve been through the wringer; no one would’ve blamed you for taking it easy.”

She hummed faintly, feigning drowsiness. “I’ll be fine, Captain. Just need to rest.”

There was a pause, long enough to make her glance at the screen to check if the call had dropped. But then his voice came through again, low and insistent. “If you need anything—and I mean anything—you let me know. Don’t go toughing it out on your own.”

“Of course,” she replied, her tone measured. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Get some rest,” he added, the warmth in his voice undeniable. “And Y/N... don’t think for a second I’ll let you off the hook for dodging me all weekend.”

She smiled faintly despite herself. “Goodnight, Captain.”

“Goodnight, love.”

She ended the call, sinking back into her sofa with a quiet exhale. Neutral or not, conversations with Captain Price always left her feeling like she’d just walked a tightrope.

---------

And so, Monday arrived. Y/N was officially excused from the drills due to her injuries, leaving her with more downtime than she cared for. By the afternoon, she had retreated to the rooftop, seeking a quiet moment to herself. The crisp air and the hum of distant activity below offered a brief reprieve.

She wasn’t startled by the sound of footsteps approaching or the creak of the rooftop door swinging open. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

John Price.

The Captain strode toward her with the same calm, unshakable confidence he carried everywhere, his boots crunching softly on the rooftop gravel. His eyes locked onto hers, steady and intense, as he stopped just a few feet away.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, tinged with amusement, “I’d say you put up a good fight this whole time. But technically... you lost.”

Y/N sighed, her fingers momentarily clenching into fists at her sides. Of course. That deal. That ridiculous deal. If he outscored her in the drills, she’d agree to a date. Now, with her injuries keeping her sidelined, she hadn’t even had a chance to compete.

“That’s not exactly fair,” she shot back, leaning into her chair, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “I couldn’t even join the drills. Doesn’t exactly feel like a win for you.”

Price tilted his head slightly, a teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Rules are rules, love. No score from you means my score wins by default. Doesn’t seem like a problem for me.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh through her nose, frustration mixing with reluctant amusement. “So, what? You’re here to rub it in?”

“Not my style,” he replied smoothly, though the glint in his eye said otherwise. He took a step closer, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m here to collect. You owe me a date. After your reservist period, of course. I’ll give you time to prepare yourself.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, caught between irritation and something else she wasn’t ready to admit. “Fine. After the reservist,” she replied finally, her voice firm, though her lips betrayed a faint, reluctant smirk.

Price grinned back, triumphant but impossibly charming. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Her lips twitched as though she might scowl, but she kept her composure. Instead, she turned her gaze back toward the horizon, letting his words linger in the air.

Keep cordial, her inner voice urged. Make it look like you gave up. Just until the reservist period.

----------

Throughout the week, Y/N kept things cordial with Captain Price, her responses measured and her expression neutral. She made sure to maintain a distance, neither too distant nor too familiar. Her usual sharp edge was subdued, but she wasn’t about to let herself get too comfortable, not with the promise of a date hanging over her head.

On the final day of her reservist period, Y/N made her rounds, bidding her chief and colleagues farewell. She offered a polite smile, keeping it brief. "See you all for the next round," she said, her voice calm and steady. She’d done what she came for—no more, no less.

She surrendered her building pass, her movements slow and deliberate, the weight of the week pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her mind was already elsewhere, focused on the quiet evening ahead. The plan was simple: order a ride from the app, go home, and finally take a moment to breathe.

But as she walked toward the gate entrance, her steps faltered. There, leaning casually against his vehicle, was John Price. Arms crossed, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but commanding all the same. The sight of him made her heart skip an unexpected beat.

She hadn’t expected him to be there, not like this, not after the deal had been made. She stopped a few paces away, the weight of the evening, the past week, settling into her chest.

Y/N schooled her expression into neutrality, masking the flicker of surprise that threatened to surface. She came to a stop a few paces away, meeting his steady gaze without wavering.

“Captain,” she said evenly, her tone as measured as her face. “What are you doing here?”

Price straightened slightly, his arms uncrossing as he pushed off the vehicle with an easy grace. His hands slid into his pockets, his demeanor as unhurried as ever. “Thought I’d drive you home,” he replied, his voice calm but laced with a teasing undertone. “Get you comfy, send you off proper.”

Her brows lifted, skepticism flickering across her features before she quickly subdued it. “I thought we had plans for the weekend,” she countered, tilting her head. “Isn’t that what you’re waiting for?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, the faintest hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “We do,” he confirmed, his voice low and deliberate. “But I figured tonight’s about seeing you off, not keeping you waiting. Besides,” he added, stepping closer, “I wanted to make sure you didn’t disappear on me.”

Y/N held her ground, her gaze steady despite the subtle tightening of her grip on her bag. “I gave you my word,” she said simply. “I’m not backing out.”

Price’s grin widened slightly, his head dipping in acknowledgment. “Good,” he murmured, his tone carrying the weight of certainty. “Then let me take care of you tonight. Call it a preview of what’s to come.”

She sighed softly, shifting her weight but making no move to walk past him. “I can handle getting home on my own, you know.”

Y/N sighed softly, her voice steady despite the weariness weighing on her words. “Captain, we’re already seeing each other this weekend. Can’t that be enough?” She straightened her posture slightly, trying to inject just enough firmness into her tone. “I’m tired. I’d really like some space tonight. Besides, I’ve already booked a ride—it’ll be here any minute to take me home.”

Price tilted his head, his lips quirking into that infuriatingly knowing smirk. “Booked a ride, huh?” he drawled, his tone edged with playful suspicion. “Sounds a bit fishy to me.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she let out a quiet, deliberately exasperated sigh, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Fishy? Really?” she asked, her voice drowsy, tired, as if the conversation itself was draining her. “What could possibly be fishy, Captain? You’ve already got me cornered, don’t you? What else is there?”

For a moment, he didn’t reply. Instead, he looked at her, his cerulean blue eyes piercing and unyielding. The intensity of his gaze felt like it could strip away every layer she’d carefully constructed, leaving her flustered and raw. Y/N could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, her throat tightening slightly as she swallowed hard. She considered looking away but found herself unable to break the moment. Against all odds, she held his gaze, her breath catching in her chest.

Her heart raced, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was from the exhaustion or the way his stare seemed to unravel her with disarming ease. It was as if the entire world had narrowed to just the two of them, the quiet tension filling the air like a tangible presence.

Just then, the sound of a car pulling up shattered the spell. Y/N blinked, the moment breaking as her ride arrived, offering a welcome distraction. Price glanced toward the vehicle, his smirk softening into something less teasing, more gentlemanly. Without a word, he stepped forward, pulling the door open for her with effortless grace.

Y/N murmured a quiet thanks, slipping into the car with relief as her pulse began to steady once more.

----------

Saturday arrived, and much to Price’s chagrin, his suspicions were confirmed—she had ghosted him. His messages went unanswered, his calls ignored, and every attempt to reach her was met with the cold reality of being left on read. At first, he tried to rationalize it. She was recovering, after all—injuries from the last operation and being hit by a van weren’t minor. Surely, she just needed time to herself.

But the nagging doubt refused to be silenced. Something didn’t sit right. Price wasn’t one to let things slide easily, especially not when it came to her. Eventually, suspicion got the better of him. He picked up the phone and called Gaz.

“Check on her, mate,” Price said, his tone firm but edged with an undercurrent of frustration. “See if she’s alright or if she’s just... dodging me.”

Gaz, ever loyal, agreed with a chuckle and promised to get back to him.

When Gaz finally called back, his voice carried that unmistakable tone of amusement. “Price,” he began, clearly holding back a laugh, “I hate to break it to you, but it looks like Y/N’s ghosting you. She’s fine. Healthy, alive, and very capable of responding—injuries or not. She’s just… apparently not interested in answering you.”

Price groaned, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. Gaz's teasing on the other end only made it worse. “You’re really going to let her play you like that, Captain?”

Price shot back, trying to suppress his irritation, “I’m not letting her play me. I just need to get her attention.”

Gaz’s voice was laced with amusement as he responded, “Need some help, Captain? You want me to help smoke her out, get her to show her hand?”

Price paused, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. The idea wasn’t half bad. He might’ve preferred a more subtle approach, but if it came to coaxing her out of whatever funk she was in, he’d take any route that worked.

“Yeah,” Price muttered after a beat. “Smoke her out. Let’s see if we can get her to respond.”

Gaz chuckled. “Roger that, Captain. I’ll keep you posted.”

----------

A day later, Gaz messaged Y/N, inviting her out for another meal at the grill house. “Fresh out of reservist, thought you’d fancy a proper catch-up with the team,” he wrote, his tone lighthearted and familiar.

Y/N hesitated before responding. “I really can’t go out right now,” she explained. “Still healing from the injuries. Maybe once I’m fully healed up, I’ll join you guys again. Heck, I can’t even use my dominant arm to put on makeup or cover the scars on my face.”

Gaz read the message and nodded to himself, respecting her honesty. “Fair enough,” he replied. “Rest up. We’ll catch up when you’re back to full strength.”

The days turned into weeks. With time, Y/N began to recover, though it was a gradual process. The bruising faded within a month, and while her broken arm and leg required more time—closer to 8-10 weeks for proper healing—she was at least mobile again, albeit cautiously. By then, she could sense the weight of her inactivity lifting, her focus shifting toward regaining her full independence.

----------

Y/N opened her phone and checked the group chat, where one of her friends had organized a dinner at a sleek, smart-casual bar for the upcoming Friday night. It sounded like the perfect opportunity to get out, and nearly everyone would be there, including Gaz.

She typed a quick reply, “That sounds perfect. I have something scheduled that day, but I’ll be able to catch up with all of you afterward. I’ll be looking presentable enough after my meeting with the gallery curator. It’s a nice bonus that the bar is smart-casual, so I won’t have to worry about changing. I’m almost back to normal now—my arm’s almost fully functional, and I can walk without wobbling.”

The chat quickly filled with confirmation messages. It was settled—the group would meet on Friday night. Some of her friends couldn’t make it as they were deployed or on duty, but a good portion would be there, and Gaz would be joining them as well.

The meeting with the curator was later that day, and it went better than she’d hoped. He loved her work and was eager to feature her pieces in an upcoming exhibit. The only thing left was to wait for the official paperwork to sign once the contract was finalized.

After the meeting wrapped up successfully, Y/N headed to the bar. It was sleek and modern, exactly the kind of place where she could unwind after a busy day. When she walked in, the warm glow of the bar greeted her, and she quickly spotted her friends gathered around a large table. They greeted her with cheers and hugs, their laughter blending easily with the soft buzz of the place.

The table was filled with canapés, finger foods, and cocktails, everyone sharing bites and chatting comfortably. It was mostly her close lady friends, with Gaz as the only guy in the group. Some of the others couldn’t make it due to duty or deployment, but it didn’t dampen the mood. Y/N smiled as she settled in, feeling a wave of contentment as she finally had a moment to relax and enjoy the evening

As the evening wore on, more drinks and food made their rounds, fueling laughter and stories that bounced from one person to the next. The atmosphere was light, filled with the easy camaraderie of good friends catching up. Y/N, feeling the effects of the drinks and the good time, excused herself to the restroom, tossing a playful request to one of her friends. "Watch my bag for me, yeah?"

She returned moments later, her steps quick as she anticipated diving back into the fun. But as she approached the table, her brow furrowed in confusion. The table where her friends had been sitting was now empty. All the glasses and platters of finger foods that had once littered the surface were completely cleared away. Her eyes scanned the bar, only to find that everyone had vanished—everyone, including Gaz.

"What the hell?" she muttered to herself, half-expecting to find some sort of mix-up. Had they really just gotten up and left without a word? Why would they do that? It felt... off. Her eyes darted around the room, but there was no sign of her friends. No lingering goodbyes, no explanations.

And then, she spotted him.

Sitting where she had been just moments ago, as if he'd always been part of the scene, was none other than John Price. He was dressed in smart casual—fitting the ambiance of the evening, but with that added flair of his usual commanding presence. Arms crossed over his chest, he looked at her with that infuriatingly smug, victorious grin that always managed to make her feel like she’d lost some sort of battle.

This must be why everyone disappeared. A setup. A setup by John and Gaz.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of her Chanel bag resting comfortably on his lap. The bag, the one she'd inherited, and more importantly, the one that contained her essentials—her phone, her wallet, her cards, tissues, and yes, even her meds—lay there in his hands, as if it was a trophy.

She blinked, then stepped closer, feeling her lips twitch into a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Are you kidding me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

Price didn’t even flinch. He just leaned back slightly, clearly amused at the scene unfolding before him, and tossed a cheeky glance toward her. "You took too long," he said smoothly, his voice low and teasing. "Figured I’d make myself comfortable while I waited."

His blue eyes scanned her, taking in every detail from head to toe before returning to her face. A playful grin tugged at his lips. "You look stunning," he said, his voice smooth. "Didn't know there was this side of you—besides the muddy aprons, overalls, and tactical uniforms. Not that you weren't beautiful then, but... there's something about you when you're all put together."

She stood before him, dressed in an off-shoulder navy blue midi dress that elegantly flowed to mid-calf. The neckline revealed her collarbone and her petite, delicate shoulders—features that had him fighting the urge to lean in closer. The sleeves of the dress were slightly puffed at the shoulders, tapering down to fitted cuffs at her wrists, adding just the right touch of drama to her polished look.

On her feet, a pair of navy blue velvet pumps completed the ensemble, elongating her legs and accentuating her graceful posture.

Her makeup was understated yet stunning, enhancing her natural beauty. Her well-groomed eyebrows framed her eyes perfectly, while a subtle smoky eyeshadow with neutral tones made her gaze captivating. A thin line of eyeliner defined her upper lash line, complemented by mascara-coated lashes that gave her eyes a soft, smoldering depth. A rosy blush brought warmth to her cheeks, while a bold satin mauve lipstick drew attention to her lips.

Her jewelry was minimal yet refined—a pair of gold hoop earrings added a hint of sophistication, while a delicate gold necklace with an intricate blue-eye gem pendant rested lightly against her collarbone, catching the light with every slight movement.

Her hair was styled in long, loose waves that cascaded down her shoulders and back. The soft, voluminous texture of her hair, parted in the middle, framed her face beautifully, striking the perfect balance between elegance and effortlessness.

John’s gaze lingered a moment longer, his appreciative smile deepening.

She exhaled an exasperated sigh, stepping forward with determination as she reached for her bag. Yet, his long arms moved swiftly, keeping it just out of her grasp. Her frustration mounted, but before she could protest further, his other hand slid around her waist in one fluid motion, pulling her close. Her breath hitched as his head came to rest lightly against her stomach, his blue eyes gleaming with playful defiance as he looked up at her.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, her pulse quickening at the sudden closeness. His hold was steady—not forceful, but firm enough to leave no doubt she wasn’t going anywhere. The smirk tugging at his lips was maddening, and the noise of the room seemed to fade, leaving only the charged space between them.

To anyone glancing their way, anyone who might have seen them at that moment would have easily assumed they were a couple.

"Give back my bag, Captain..." she murmured, her tone a mix of frustration and amusement.

His reply came without hesitation, the timbre of his voice dropping low enough to make her shiver. "No," he said, his grin widening. "How about we strike a deal instead? You owe me for ghosting me, and now..." He paused, letting his words linger between them. "You're going to make it up to me."

She let out an exasperated sigh, though the telltale flush creeping up her cheeks didn’t escape John’s sharp eyes.

“Could you let me go?” she asked, her voice betraying a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he shifted, turning his body fully toward her. Seated as he was, he wrapped his arm more firmly around her waist, trapping her against him. Her hips now pressed lightly against his chest, and he looked up at her with a gaze so intent it made her pulse falter.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with challenge.

She crossed her arms defiantly and turned her head away, refusing to meet his smoldering blue eyes. “What are you playing at?” she muttered.

His smirk deepened. “I’ll tell you what. Keep this up, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here.”

Her head snapped back toward him, eyes narrowing. “You’re a neanderthal!! Oh, You wouldn’t dare!!”

“Try me,” he said, his tone casual but laced with intent.

She stared at him, weighing her options. The sheer audacity of him left her fuming, but the steady determination in his expression left no room for doubt. He would absolutely do it.

For the sake of her dignity—and her reputation—she sighed in defeat. “Fine,” she muttered, her tone laced with reluctant surrender.

John’s victorious grin was infuriating, but she couldn’t deny the spark of heat that danced in her chest. Once again, Captain John Price had won.

John rose from his seat, and her eyes widened as she was suddenly reminded of just how tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing he was. Even in her heels, she barely came up to his chest. The sheer presence of him made her feel small in a way that was both frustrating and... a little disarming.

A slow smile spread across his face as he reached for her hand, his fingers naturally intertwining with hers. She noticed, with some irritation, that he was still holding her bag by the straps in his other hand—clearly not planning to return it anytime soon.

“Uhmm... wait,” she blurted, gesturing vaguely toward the bar. “I need to pay for everything.”

John’s smile widened, his voice calm and reassuring. “Don’t worry about it. Your friends took care of it. They send their compliments... and their best wishes for you to enjoy your time with me.”

Her lips parted in disbelief, and she let out an exasperated groan, her head tilting back slightly. “Ugh, of course they did,” she muttered, the realization sinking in that her friends had been part of this elaborate setup all along.

A/N: And now... the Captain has finally CAUGHT YOU! No more running, no more escaping—you're in his hands now. 😏 So, what happens next when you're completely at his mercy? Get ready for some intense and seductive moments to come... because John Price is about to seduce the hell out of you. Trust me, it’s only just beginning. 😉 Enjoy the ride, and don’t say I didn’t warn you!

[gomzdrawfr]

MORE bear!Price because why not!!!!

If you like bear!Price you might like these:

⋆｡°✩ Captain Bear // Having Beary Price all for yourself // big bear!Price // hibernation ⋆｡°✩

⊱ ──[ bonus: Ghoap Bears ]

my commissions are open ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[thisfanisgonesorry]

obsessed — john price ft. 141

kinktober day 1: public sex (w/ ale, rudy, gaz, soap + ghost)

posting this prematurely because someone brought me cod vault and i need to suck them off

tags: public sex (exhibition, shocker), orgasm denial, light panty stuff, creampie, claiming, all that good good, light homoeroticism, gaz is a funny guy idc, accidental soap bashing rofl

☆

“This is what happens when you eye up my girl.” He started, speaking sternly, his hand wrapped possessively around my waist as I wore the most revealing outfit I owned at his command; he grabbed one hand and spun me around with a soft grin on his face, dancing me around as a ‘humble’ brag.

The soldiers surrounding him seemed uneasy by the unknown. They were afraid of their ‘punishment’, most of them quickly averted their eyes from the outfit that left not a lot to the imagination.

I took my seat on the coffee table in his quarters. The lads were conned into coming over for something considerably less crude, something or other to do with catching up and drinks, implied by the glasses of whiskey with melting ice and the calmness increasingly leaving the atmosphere. The Captain took a slow stroke of my hair, his hand cupping my cheek and angling my face to look up at him. The men sat there uncomfortably, knowing that they’d be unable to leave until they were officially dismissed.

“She’s just so gorgeous, ain’t she?” He hummed.

The room was filled with a dreaded silence, and they all hesitated to respond, exchanging glances in an attempt to figure out what the correct answer was.

“I asked something.” He snapped. “Come on, haven’t got all fuckin’ day.”

“Yes.” Simon responded with a nod, gesturing to the others with command on what he felt was the right way to go about this tricky situation. “She is gorgeous.”

“Yeah, what he said.” They began to agree in unison, hoping that the Ghost would guide them out of this since it was like walking through a minefield, though some would agree that a minefield would be less stressful.

Price furrowed his eyebrows, circling around the coffee table like a hawk, attempting to intimidate the men. “How gorgeous?” He spoke to the Sergeants, avoiding Simon’s gaze as he attempted to weasel the group out of Price’s game. He knew that Simon was figuring it out quickly, almost too quickly.

Simon and Mactavish, who seemingly shared a glance, attempting to connect dots. Soap silently spoke to his Lieutenant, airing his suspicions, and Simon responded with a ‘down, boy’ as they both realised what was actually happening, Soap deduced it quickly, and the other was afraid to be incorrect in his assumptions, not airing it aloud until it was certain, though their mutual conclusion made them both more confident in their chances of being correct.

Alejandro and Rodolfo shared a knowing glance also, lowering their voices and dipping their heads as they had their own private discussion. “¿Estás bromeando? ¿Qué decimos?”, “No lo sé, hace cosas raras.” They quickly spoke as the others shrunk under Price’s gaze, his back to them as he paid little attention to their conversation. “Tal vez deberíamos habernos quedado en México.” They mutually agreed.

“Most gorgeous I’ve ever seen.” Soap spoke up, using his Lieutenants guidance. Mactavish knew that if his Lieutenant thought it was the right thing to do, especially when it comes to Price, it most likely was.

“Maybe too gorgeous..” Kyle snickered to himself with implication, trying to relieve the tension in the air. Everyone was afraid of whatever the Captain was planning — and Kyle was the only one willing to test him despite his respect for him. He was, for the most part, in the know but he hadn’t put it together the same way that Riley and Mactavish did.

Captain Price and Kyle shared a knowing look, and John knew that he’d been figured out by enough of them that he could push forward.

“Baby..” He cooed, turning me to face him again, grabbing my face harshly and making me look at Kyle, his other hand drifted down to the bottom of the skimpy shirt, lifting it up slowly, letting it bunch up above my chest. “Show them your pretty tits.” 

His hands palmed at the lace bra, a smug look plastered on his face as the other men were unsure how to respond. Their faces flushed with nervousness, unsure if they should be watching or not, though as the scene progressed, they were more comfortable in their shamelessness. 

“Lo retiro. Me gusta aquí en Estados Unidos.” 

“Hold up your skirt for me.” John spoke again, I followed his instructions and he spread my legs. He turned his head to face the other men. “Any of you lads wanna see how wet her cunt is?”

Kyle tries to stand up from his seat, his intentions not entirely clear, though Rudy and Alejandro grab him and pull him back down quickly, not patient enough to deal with his practical jokes and firmly held him in place. Price knew Simon wouldn’t volunteer on his own, so he raised his eyebrow at Mactavish. He squinted back, and John gave a slight smirk. He manhandled me, swerving my body around so my spread legs faced the iconic duo, though the small couch meant they all got the perfect view

Their eyes were glued at the wet patch forming on the white panties.

“Mierda.” Alejandro choked out. “Joder, Rudy—”

“Justo contigo.”

Simon was entranced, but was the only one able to drag his eyes away from the view, even if only momentarily. “Captain..” He started. “Could I ask.. What’s the damn point of this?”

“The point?” He questioned, positioning himself on the table behind me, letting the boys get an amicable view of the woman he was graciously claiming in front of their eyes. His hands continued to palm at my bra, he was greedy with want, ‘subtly’ displaying his intent.

“What’re you trying to get at?”

He smirked, one of his hands falling down and rubbing at the wetness. “Like you can’t figure that out?” He shrugged, slipping his fingers under the waistband and sliding in with ease. “You must think I’m stupid, I know how you all act, you want ‘er for yourselves.”

His words were met with awkward silence which worked as an admission of guilt. He had a smug grin, knowing he’d caught them red handed, and they processed what this truly meant. My face flushed red, turning my head to the side and biting my lip as the eyes on my body doubled in size, even Simon was getting some form of enjoyment out of it. It was arousing, yet I couldn’t help but attempt to restrain myself.

“Why so shy, baby girl?”

“Mhm, they’re watching.” I mumbled back, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the men despite the temptation.

“That’s the point.” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss into my neck, letting his beard scratch at my nape. He began moving his hands more graciously, speaking sweetly and planning deviously. “C’mon, moan for me, princess. Put on a show.”

“Ah, fuck, John—” I moaned out.

“That’s cruel.” Mactavish commented with a grim expression.

“Keep goin’, princess.” He laughed softly, making me squirm under his fingers. “Want me to take your panties off? Show ‘em how your cunt clenches around my fingers?”

“Por favor.” Alejandro and Rodolfo pleaded in mutual agreeance once again. “Por favor buena coño. muéstranos?”

“You’re sick, Price.” Simon spoke, though his eyes didn’t leave the conjoinance. John, the other one, simply frowned, knowing he had to hear the sweet sounds of his name being moaned, and yet it’s not even for him. Both duos simply held their breaths, trying to keep their cool, the other man was unreadable, letting the lust behind his eyes be the only emotion he displayed, he respected Price, but there’s only so much strength a man could hold.

“You’re sick.” John spoke firmly. “Thinkin’ about my girl like this, just givin’ you what you want.” He spat. “Watching you’s get hard in y’fuckin’ pants at the sight.”

“Like it’s our fault?” Mactavish spat back.

“John—”

“Like that!” He growled. “You think I’m not meant to find that fuckin’ sexy?”

“Oi, settle.” Simon interrupted with a demanding bark.

Price furrowed his eyebrows, retracting his fingers and smearing the slickness onto my thigh, letting it glimmer under the dim light. He lifted my hips enough for him to slide the panties off, tossing them at the jealous Sergeant.

“He’s right, you know?” Kyle spoke up, knowing better than to get aggressive when he’s being treated to such a view, but he had to agree with him. His eyes flicked into the panties that Soap held in his hand.

He let out a smug huff of amusement, lifting my hips enough so I was kneeled on the table. The group of men heard the sound of a zipper, and a collective group of inward, jealous groans became audible very quickly.

“Dios mio—”

“Fuckin’ hell, Price.”

They kept their mouths shut beyond that, watching as he tugged at his pants. He stroked his cock liberally, pressing a kiss into the neck. “They act like this is cruel, yet they’re still watchin’, baby, they wanna see how I fuck you.” He hummed.

“You’re— Shit, John, I—”

“That’s my girl.” He cursed, lining himself up as he pushed himself into the slickness, grinning at the way the men’s eyes watched on in awe, inward groans at the way I swallowed him whole.

Their pants were tented, and through fuzzy thoughts and half-lidded eyes, it was clear to tell that they were fighting the urge to get themselves off, but they knew Price wouldn’t let them live another day if they did.

“John. Move, please, need—”

He hummed, grabbing onto my hips and moving me against him. “Of course, princess.” He leant his head on my shoulder, his eyes darting around the other men. “You like my cock?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Let them know who this pussy belongs to, princess.”

“Yours.” I praised, whining and closing my eyes. “Right there.”

“Louder.”

“John, yours”

“Louder.” He spoke sternly, his hand dipping to rub sweet circles. “Come on, say it louder.”

“It’s yours, John!” I cried out, 

“I’m fuckin’ keeping these.” Mactavish mumbled with a sour tone, glancing over at Simon and the other men as he stuffed the panties into his pocket. He leaned back, trying to get comfortable as the view tormented his eyes. 

“A few minutes ago you were all for it, what changed, Johnny?”

“You know what, you fuckin�� bastard.” He spoke coldly. “Ale is fuckin’ droolin’, Rudy’s eyes are the size of his fuckin’ head and Gaz is.. Gaz, yet you’re tormenting me?”

“I don’t see you actin’ as well trained as Simon.” He joked. “How is it, princess? Feel you clenchin’, you like them watchin’? Bickering over you?”

“Mhm, yeah, it’s— Yeah!” I nodded enthusiastically as he continued the actions on my clit. He pressed a soft kiss behind my ear, pulling my bra down enough for my breasts to pop out from the fabric. “Ah, fuck, John—”

“Baby, don’t you think he deserves a break from your teasing?”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry, John, ‘m just so close.” I whined.

“Already?” He hummed. “You just like putting on a show? They’re desperate for you.”

“Yes, yes, fuck, yeah, love putting on a show.”

“God, look how wet she is.” Rudy finally spoke up after his long silence. “Fuckin’ creaming on his dick.”

His grip on my hips pushed forward, making me bend over slightly as he kept thrusting into me, hitting the right spot, relishing in the squelching noise that filled the room as the stickiness covered the thighs of his cargo pants. “God, close.”

“I know.” He purred, his hand glued to my clit. “Simon, you’ve been quiet.”

He gritted his teeth. “I know just as well as you, this is a punishment.” He hissed. “I’m not dumb enough to indulge in how bad I want her. You’re claiming her.”

“Smart lad.”

“And she’s liking it.” One of the men pointed out, they were all painfully jealous (and painfully erect at the sight), but they knew this is what happens when Price owns something; this is what they get for wanting to touch his girl in a way that only he should be able to.

I whined, clutching onto his arms. “John— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna?” He slowed his movements, keeping it methodical enough, careful to not let me spill over the edge. 

“Gonna cum, gonna—”

“Ask nicely, baby, too busy being all cockdrunk for me that you forgot how this works.”

“Please, baby, let me cum, I wanna cum so bad.” I choked out a cry as I tried to push back on him, needing the extra friction.

“Don’t ask me.” He cooed. “Ask them.”

I sobbed around his cock. “Please, please, let me cum.” I struggled to keep my eyes open enough to look at them.

“They have names.”

“Mhm!” I choked out. “Who?”

“Go down the line.” He breathed, beginning to chase his own orgasm more selfishly, it still wasn’t enough pressure for me to unravel, but his harsh thrusts didn’t help the fuzzy, cloudy feeling. 

“Ale— Fuck, please, please.” I threw my head back. “Alejandro, please.”

He let out a low groan with a weak nod. “I need to watch you. I.. Cum, gorgeous, you can cum.” He swallowed thickly, cutting himself shortly from becoming a rambling mess, taking Rileys words into consideration as he spoke.

“Rudy?” I cried out, my mind all fuzzy. 

Rodolfo glanced at Price, his mind lingering on what the Ghost said, just like Alejandro and just like the others. “You can, Princesa.” He spoke, attempting to stay calm enough where he didn’t rile himself up while using their Captains pet name for me in a condescending way, trying to reclaim what little power he could.

“You gotta use your words.” Price spoke up. “You can do that, can’t you?”

“Fuck, Gaz—”

“It’s Kyle.” He interrupted with a shit-eating grin.

“Please, Kyle, I.. mhm, say..”

“Can barely get your words out, doll.”

“Please!” I snapped, jerking upwards, pushing myself back on Price harshly, seeing white and feeling a sob rise from my throat at the desperation. “Say it, please!”

“Say that you can cum? That I allow you to?” I nodded frantically, and he bit his lip. “God, he really is claiming her. Such a good fucking girl, go on, doll, I’ll let you cum, you got my vote.” He teased relentlessly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Need.. Johnny—”

“Not him.” Price interrupted. John huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms but biting his tongue, restraining the urge to snap at his Captain.

“Mhm.. Simon?”

“You’re up to Simon, yes.” He mocked lightly as a gentle reminder to use my words.

“Simon? Please? You’re all I need, please.”

He glared up at Price. “How bad do you want it?”

“So fuckin’ bad, Simon, please, I can’t...”

He sighed. “Yeah, you can cum.” He spoke, careful to not overstep with the Captain like the others were.

“You heard them, baby.” John cooed again. “Make a sweet mess for me. You’re trembling, princess, you’re right there for me.”

“Just a bit more, please, more!” I begged, letting it wash over me when he added slightly more pressure to my clit, working me right back up to the edge. “Oh, shit, John, ah—” I sobbed, throwing my head back onto his shoulder. 

He mouthed at my shoulder, leaving lazy kisses. “Oh, fuck.” He choked. “Milkin’ m’cock, so sweet.” His eyes were half-lidded as he felt his orgasm impend closer, though he made a point to bask in the look on their faces.

I tensed up, spasming around him. “So good, so good.” I nodded helplessly, eyes clenched shut, momentarily forgetting that people were watching us. “John, baby—”

After the comedown, I slumped forward, going limp in his arms. His quick reaction time was beyond useful as he reached forward to grab me, supporting my weight in his strong arms. “God, ‘m gonna cum, princess. Want it inside?” He spoke smugly, eyeing up the others.

“Yes, yes!” I panted

“Even in front of the lads?”

“Yes, want it inside. Please, John!”

He thrusted harshly a few last times. “I’m right there, baby.” He praised, briefly ignoring the other men so he could feel the warmth around him, to let his orgasm wash over him without the worry of the prying eyes that were trying to memorise and suck in every detail of what was happening in front of them. “Keep sayin’ my name.”

“John, please, need it, c’mon, John, ’m your good girl, need you—”

His breathing picked up pace. “That’s it, that’s it. Take it, princess, that’s it.” He groaned, thrusting a few more times before his pace faltered, spilling his cum inside of me with breathy moans. “That’s my girl, my girl.”

His smug grin returned to his face as he caught his breath, he pressed another kiss on my neck, pulling out and tucking his dick away as he held me in place firmly against him, his embrace was evidently possessive.

“Johnny..” I sighed, leaning into him and closing my thighs tightly, clenching myself in an attempt to keep him inside me.

“Mhm, I got you.” He hummed, fixing my bra and pulling my shirt down to cover my chest again.

“You’re a dick, Cap.” Mactavish finally commented, furrowing his eyebrows. “Gaz was wankin’ to you’s.” He snitched, crossing his arms, frustrated.

“No I wasn’t, fuckin’ snitch.” Kyle snapped back, pulling his hand away from his pants, granted, he wasn’t ‘wanking’, but he was palming himself so points for being close enough, he sat back annoyed and crossed his arms.

Simon stood up. “We’re done here.” He spoke. “They’re done, we’re leaving.” He spoke, announcing to the other soldiers that were overstaying their welcome. “Talking to you, Sergeants.” 

“You’re dismissed.” John approved, picking me up and getting ready to take care of his girl.

They all stood up quickly, preparing to escort themselves out as fast as they could, though having to walk slowly in the small quarters. They attempted to avoid eye contact, letting the previous situation linger in the air.

Simon took the lead, getting off the wide couch first. “Let’s go.” He called out, with Mactavish already following behind obediently. “No fighting or else.” He warned.

Alejandro and Rudolfo stood up and shared another glance with another conversation they kept to themselves as they left just as fast eagerly. “Eso fue...algo más...”, “¡lo sé!”,

“¿Crees que volverá a suceder?”

“Si tenemos suerte..” He spoke with a nervous laugh.

[daisies-daydreams]

Under the Desk (John Price x F!Reader)

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Oral Sex (M!Receiving), Semi-Public Sex, Swearing, Spanking, Hair Pulling Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Just a little something I wrote while I'm working on a few requests. 👅💦

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You squealed as you wrapped your arms around Price's thick neck. A small squelch erupted from your lips as he thrusted his tongue inside of your mouth. A small jolt of electricity shot through you as your clothed sex bushed against his stiffening cock. The action earned you an eager squeeze to your bum, your boyfriend’s hand kneading the flesh in his rough palms. Price parted lips with you, his chest heaving as he gazed at you with blown pupils.

“Get under the desk, sweet girl. You know what to do,” Price rumbled, his wet lips dancing over yours. You nodded, your hands trailing down his t-shirt as he pulled back in his office chair. You gave a harsh grind of your hips one more time, savoring how he gasped at the friction. You slowly slid off of his lap, maintaining eye contact the whole trip down. Price stared at you through half-lidded eyes as you shuffled onto your knees, your hands working at his belt.

Price pulled out one of the desk drawers and fished a fresh cigar out. He flinched when your fingers slowly pulled down the elastic of his blue boxers. His hard cock jumped out of his pants, the red tip dripping with precum. You licked your lips, taking his burning hot shaft into one of your hands as you pumped it slowly. Price grunted as he flicked his lighter, setting the tip of his cigar ablaze. He puffed at it a few times before releasing a stream of smoke from his nostrils.

“That’s a good girl,” Price praised as you continued to stroke up and down his length. He inhaled another drag of smoke, only to nearly choke on it when you kissed the tip of his cock. “Bloody fuck,” he groaned when you swirled your warm tongue around his plump, bulbous head. His balls ached as you worked your hands in tandem with your tongue. You raised his dick before licking a stripe from the base all the way up to his leaking tip.

“Fuck, lovie,” Price grunted as he shallowly bucked his hips. You sighed and closed your eyes as he slid his hand down to your head, threading his fingers through your hair. He puffed at his cigar again as he massaged at your scalp.

You moaned around his cock, taking it an inch deeper into your wet cavern. You let your hands fall to his inner thighs as you shifted closer, allowing him to sink in even further.

“That’s right-use your mouth just the way I like,” he rumbled, billows of smoke pouring past his lips. You suckled around his dick before starting to pull your head back, leaving his head between your lips. Price released a subtle moan as you bobbed your head across his length, his cock stuffing your mouth full. His fingers began to grip at your hair as you used your tongue to smooth over the vein on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ he grunted. Price quickly set his cigar in his ashtray as you watched the resolve slip from him. His free hand clutched at the arm of his desk chair while he used his other to guide your head up and down his shaft. You repressed the urge to gag as his cock began to hit the back of your throat.

“Mmm, love how your lips wrap around me, baby,” Price swallowed thickly. You squeaked when he thrusted his hips into your mouth, his cock nearly splitting your jaw apart. Tears pricked at your eyes as your fingers raked down his pants.

“Shit-gonna cum,” Price growled, his cock twitching inside your wet cavern. Your eyes opened to look up at him and his face scrunched up.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Captain? Mind if I have a word real quick? It’s urgent," Gaz spoke from the other side of the door.

Price’s head whipped forward before looking down to you. You reflected his gaze of panic, his cock still lodged deep in your throat. Your love’s breathing stuttered as he pushed himself forward.

“Not a sound, bird,” he demanded softly as he scooted you beneath the desk. You nodded as Price straightened his clothes out. He sighed as he held his hands on his desk.

“Come in!” he called. Gaz opened the door, his brows instantly knitting when he saw the Captain's red face.

“You alright, Price? Look a bit feverish,” Gaz stated as he approached the desk. Your heart thrummed against your sternum as you felt some of his precum slide down your throat. Your mind was swimming with arousal, numb to any consequence of being caught. You fluttered your eyes closed as you cracked a wry grin.

“Ah, well, I’m not faring too well-Gaz,” his voice strained as you hollowed your cheeks around his cock. Price's hands squeezed together, his knuckles turning whiter by the second as you swiped your tongue against a prominent vein. Gaz raised a brow, his eyes scanning his Captain.

“Right. Well, there’s some important news from Las Almas,” Gaz stated. Price kept his hands tightly wound together and nodded as Gaz explained the most recent report given by Alejandro. You shallowly drove your mouth up and down his length, careful to not make too many wet sounds. Price’s hands tightened around each other every so often. His left eye twitched whenever his sensitive tip tapped the back of your throat. Gaz paused.

“You sure you’re alright, Price?” the Sergeant asked. Price nodded and gritted his teeth as you deftly massaged his heavy balls with one of your hands.

“I’m fine, Sergeant,” he seethed as you stroked your thumb across his raphe. His hand slipped down to the arm of his chair, grasping at his as Gaz finished his conversation. Your eyes widened as Price snatched your hair, squeezing his fingers around it roughly. You didn't cease your ministrations as Gaz saluted and saw himself out. You released his dick from your mouth, smiling up at him.

"Little minx," Price huffed. You squeaked as he shoved his cock far down your throat, using your hair to guide you along his thick shaft.

“Think it’d be funny to make me cum in front of one of my men, hm?” he asked. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as he relentlessly drove himself into your mouth, each squelch louder than the last. He groaned as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your walls clenching around nothing.

“You're gonna take all my cum like a good girl,” Price grunted when he gave a few more hungry thrusts. He bit his other hand as he stiffened, his cock twitching over your tongue. Your moans were muffled as he came down your throat.

"(Y/N)..." he slurred as you felt the warmth drip down your esophagus.

He panted before shifting his gaze down. You looked up at him with wet doe eyes as he kept your hair in a tight grip. You felt the tension in your throat loosen as he slid you off of his cock. You gasped and sputtered for air, some of his cum dripping down the corner of your mouth. Price clicked his tongue before swiping at the drop and shoving his fingers between your parted lips. You clamped your mouth down and swirled your tongue around his fingers, suckling his spend greedily.

“Fuck-look at you,” he groaned as his chest heaved. You whined as he withdrew his long digit, wiping it on his pants leg. You rested your cheek on his inner thigh, your hips wagging like a dogs. Price patted your head before rolling back in his chair.

You blinked as he nodded his head towards the desk.

“Come up here,” Price softly commanded as he curled his finger. You quickly bounded up, squeezing your thighs together as you stood in front of him. The Captain hummed, a dangerous glint in his eye as he rose from his chair. He splayed his hands over your hips before leaning his face down to your ear. You yelped when he laid a sharp smack across ass, the flesh instantly stinging.

“Turn around and bend over," Price rasped as he lined his cock up to your soaked entrance. You shuddered as he raked his teeth over your pulse, his hand wrapping around your hair.

"I'm gonna make sure you truly understand what it means to listen,” he husked.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[di-writes-stuff]

You Are In Love

John Price x Reader

One Shot

TW: Mentions of weapons, bl00d, injuries.

Three instances in which John realizes he’s in love with you. Thank Miss Swift for this one.

“You can hear it in the silence.”

You wince as John lifts up your shirt, blood crusted onto your skin around the wound on your abdomen. Attempts at convincing him you didn’t need him to patch you up himself were quickly ignored by him with a small hush and gentle hands leading you to the chair you’re sitting on now.

Exhaustion was evident on both your faces, drooping eyelids and all. No words are exchanged as a rag wet with warm water is pressed to your wound, cleaning the blood around where the knife broke skin. A small hiss slips through your lips at the sting of water meeting the wound. It’d stopped bleeding quiet so much after the stitches you got in the field, but small gaps still allowed water to slip through.

John mutters out his apologies, but it sounds more like a grumble. Any thoughts of making conversation are quickly abandoned, fatigue stripping both of your abilities to form coherent sentences.

It doesn’t seem to matter much as he presses a bandage to the wound, gentle hands and concerned glances at any noise you make saying everything they need to.

The mission was awful. Sure, you came out successful, but God was it grueling. The kind John doubted everybody would come out from alive.

They did, by some miracle.

Still, he can’t seem to shake the panic that coursed through his veins when he saw you go down after the stab. That moment before you got back up, before he reached you, it was the slowest of his life. The only thought coursing through his mind that the moment he’d been fighting tooth and nail to avoid was finally coming.

That you weren’t gonna be by his side on the ride back to base.

That you wouldn’t greet him in the morning with that smile that turns any coherent thought in his brain to mush.

That he wouldn’t have you anymore.

Thoughts of all the things that could have happened run through his mind as he wraps gauze around your waist, the sudden shakiness of his hands going unnoticed to him.

The only thing he can seem to focus on is that the second he wasn’t by your side, this happened. And if you hadn’t gotten treated as soon as you did, if John hadn’t dropped everything and dragged you to medical waiting on the EVAC boat, he wouldn’t be watching the slow rise and fall of your chest now.

He’s snapped out of his slow spiral as your hand settles on his, stilling the tremors running through it. Dulled blue eyes slide up to meet yours, softening as you squeeze his hand softly.

A reminder. A fact in the ocean of worries, of possibilities in his head.

You’re alive.

You’re alive.

You’re alive.

He finds himself repeating it like a mantra in his mind. A reason might be more accurate. If you’re here, he can be too. If you’re alive, he has a reason to keep going. It’s terrifying for a moment. To think that you’ve become the very thing his world orbits around.

And then, it just feels natural. Right, that the cards have fallen the way they did. John was never a man who believed in fate, in something determining the direction of his life. He was in control, he was the captain steering his own ship.

It sounded like bullshit now as he looked up at you. You, who fit him like a glove. You, who seemed too perfect to be here by happenstance. You, who had him wrapped around your finger. A blessing, maybe, in a life void of them.

He finishes quickly, managing to do the rest of the work with one hand. He can’t bring himself to pull the other away from your soft hold. Muscles ache as he stands, your eyes following his every movement.

Slowly, he leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your head, the tiniest of smiles on his face as he feels you lean into his touch. Later John will find that he can’t decipher if that was a moment of weakness or humanity.

Although, he’s beginning to think they may be one and the same.

But, the only thing he can’t bring himself to feel about it is regret.

“You can feel it on the way home.”

The mission had been easy. Just gathering some intel from a friend in London.

So, it seemed a bit odd when John had you come with him. You weren’t complaining, of course. Any opportunity to spend time with him away from prying eyes cracking jokes about how close you seem to be was welcome.

Cold air bites at the both of you as you step outside of the building, snow falling onto the cobblestone streets. It’s almost too picturesque, street lamps glowing softly, providing just enough light for you to see on the walk back to the car.

Shivers run through your body, cold seeping through the jacket your wearing. John quickly starts to take off his sweater before you stop him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’m fine, John.” You assure him, your voices the only sounds besides the wind whistling in your ears.

He sighs, tugging his sweater back on, knowing you wouldn’t take it either way. “You’re shaking.” He comments, voice softer than usual. The gruffness that almost always accompanies his tone has vanished, the only thing coming through clearly is affection.

You merely smile, shaking your head and looking down at your feet. His blatant concern leaves you feeling like a giddy teenager, blushing softly under the glow of moonlight.

John shoves down the nerves coursing through his body as he steps closer, an apprehensive arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to the warmth radiating from his body.

Relief floods his body as you look up at him, a soft smile ghosting your lips reflected on his. And with his arm wrapped around your waist, with your head resting on his shoulder, it’d be so easy for him to imagine for a moment that you and him are normal people.

That rather than an intel grab, he’s walking you back from a date. That rather than a base, he’s taking you home. That rather than a fleeting moment, this could just be his life, day in, and day out.

But of course, reality sets in sooner or later. That this is just a taste of a life he can never have with you, and one he’d never want with anybody else.

Still, the city does look awfully pretty like this, snow glittering like thousands of tiny diamonds under the amber glow of the gas lamps, no cars or people to disrupt. Just you, and him. Holding onto each other like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get.

With your jobs, it just might be.

Steps slow as both of you realize you’re getting closer to the car, and the eventual end of a night that feels so blissfully normal. You take the time to lean over the edge of the small bridge you’re crossing, watching the moonlight glint off the thin layer of ice covering the water underneath. John’s arm eventually slips away from your waist, only for his hand to land atop of yours on the railing.

Your eyes are focused on the sight before you, snow falling steadily, little pieces landing on your eyelashes.

John’s gaze doesn’t leave you the whole time, a love sick smile on his face that only you seem to be able to conjure up. Slowly you lean up, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment he knows he’s done for, for tonight at least.

He can’t exactly tell who started it, but he supposes it doesn’t matter now. It was soft, at first, lips barely brushing. Then, it wasn’t. Then it was everything he’d been holding back, everything he’d been trying so hard to pretend wasn’t real for so long.

Later the both of you will act as if it didn’t happen, and for the longest time it won’t again. It will go back to longing looks, hands brushing in hallways, and the adamant refusals to admit that you could be anything more than close friends.

But for now, the snow is falling, you’re in his arms, and John has everything he needs.

“You can see it with the lights out.”

It wasn’t unusual for 141 to head to the pub after a job well done. The mission wasn’t too hard, but you all came back with your fair share of cuts and bruises from some rough terrain. Gaz and Soap were already putting their new scars to work with the ladies.

The stories they told were exaggerated, of course. Gaz apparently had been grazed by a machine gun bullet.

A rusty gate tore through his shirt and nicked his arm.

In Soap’s story he went toe to toe with death, the deep purple bruise and cut on his eyebrow coming from an explosion.

He fell off a rocky hill and ate shit on a boulder.

Either way, John wasn’t paying them much mind, you serving as a distraction from their antics. The bars lighting is even dimmer than usual, a couple bulbs having gone out.

The bartender won’t notice until the pub closes. John wishes he could see your face better at first, but when liquor leads to drunken flirting, he’ll be grateful you can’t see the light blush dusting his face.

As you return from the restroom you find John watching the soccer game playing on the small TV. Reclaiming your spot next to him, your voice sounds next to his ear, any interest in the game vanishing at your return.

“Who’s winning the soccer game?” It’s become a running gag between you. At first it actually did annoy him, but at this point he just pretends to get wound up.

Really, he just likes to see the humored smile on your face when he grumbles out his response. “It’s football, love.” He responds, chest filling with boyish pride when you blush at the pet-name. He can hardly make it out under the cover of darkness, but the way you duck your head away is as clear a sign as anything of his affect on you.

He’d tried to be professional at first, but it didn’t last long. You were intoxicating like nothing else. Your laughter, your spirit, everything about you sent him falling faster than he could try to stop it.

Ignoring it never worked, he would catch himself doing little things for you either way. Holding doors open even if he wasn’t walking that way himself. Grabbing things for you that you couldn’t reach, even though a footstool was sitting in the closet collecting dust.

He just liked the excuse to stand that close to you, even if it was just for a moment, cause the way you smiled up at him every time was enough to keep him happy for the rest of the day. Fingers would brush as he handed you whatever it was, and the look in both your eyes was far too recognizable to everybody around.

Either way, he’d given up on pretending there wasn’t something between you two. For tonight, at least.

John will tell himself later that it was an accident, that the rest of the night was the product of a coincidence. It’s not true, of course, but he doesn’t have to admit that to himself.

His hand slides across the bar top, supposedly to reach for a napkin.

He didn’t need one.

As his fingers brush yours he looks over, trying to confirm in the darkness that the smile on your face really was there.

It was.

His hand slowly wraps around yours, warmth seeping from his calloused palm. It’s so intimate despite the environment. The music suddenly seems to quiet, the air stilling, the commotion behind you slowing. As your eyes meet, bright spots in the dim lighting of the bar, everything just…fades away.

It’s just you, and him. And you are not a sergeant under his command, and he is not a captain controlling you. You’re a pretty woman, and he’s a flirtatious man, and for the night John Price gets to be human.

And for the night, John Price gets to love you openly. Because in a darkened bar full of boisterous drunks, nobody notices the two fools holding hands, whispering sweet nothings, hushed laughter bubbling up from you as yet another clever quip leaves his mouth.

For the night, John Price gets to pretend this can last beyond flirting at a bar.

[maladaptivedaydreamery]

WIP, (Captain Price Fic/FanArt/Short) Captain Price x Y/N

WIP: Captain Price x Y/N (FanArt/Short)

Hey everyone! Here’s a little draft I’ve been working on. Not sure if I’ll continue, but I wanted to share it with you to see what you think. The idea behind this piece was to capture a sensual vibe — specifically, Captain Price with his hair all disheveled during an intimate moment.

I really wanted to get that intense, possessive, "You're mine" look in his blue eyes, the kind that says everything without a word. Let me tell you, that kind of expression is tricky to imagine and draw! 😅 As you can see in the first panel, it took so many trials and errors to get that expression just right. It’s hard to explain, but I hope you understand where I’m coming from! 😅 It’s tricky to convey that level of emotion, let alone imagine it, but I gave it my best shot!

Let me know if this resonates with you — I’m open to feedback or ideas! Should I keep going? 👀

[thebookbutterfly]

fanfiction isn’t enough, I need to chew on him

[codnasties]

size kink w/price 🚬 (🌽 link)

john price is big, like have you seen the man? he's tall, beefy, and covered in powerful muscles built from years in the military, strong arms and thick thighs. huge overall. and small you, little thing, doesn't even matter if you are tall or short, skinny or chubby, because anything compared to him is small, you don't stand a chance against him and his strength.

he doesn't realise at first, but there's certain things that make him feel strong and powerfull compared to you and like he needs to protect you: standing behind you in the kitchen to grab something you were trying to get from the top shelf, how big his hand is compared to yours or how small you look in his shirts.

and oh those shirts are the worst ones, they completely dwarf you and just show his sheer size. let's say that was the full awakening for his size kink and the last straw for him, after that he just manhandled you, threw you over his shoulder and carried you to the bedroom.

once he had you in bed he just lifted that shirt to expose the lace panties you were wearing underneath, pulled those to the side, while laying one of his strong arms next to your head, supporting himself and fully engulfing your small frame under his, and dipped his fingers into your already wet middle.

and since he you were already wet and ready to take him, he just pushed himself into you, feeling your tight walls trying to fit his cock while also seeing it in your lower stomach once he was balls deep.

god does he love to rearrange your fucking insides.

[pricesprincess]

smut mdni | part two

trying not to become a flustered mess when you catch john in your dads kitchen after you two hooked up on the couch the night before.

john had come to town due to work and stayed at your old home to save some cash and you wanted to visit your father, you just had no idea how the first night would end after the introduction.

it was all sly looks and lingering touches, something about the man was captivating, and when he pulled your panties off oh so slowly as his eyes took in your glistening cunt you could've died on the spot.

he was by far the best dick you've ever had and never have you ever tapped out getting fucked before but with john you did, twice.

it was clear he ate pussy for himself, and of course, he loved hearing you whimper when his beard scratched at your plush thighs before his tongue was rimming the slick entrance to your heat.

"good mornin' love." his voice was rough and tinged with sleep making it deeper and that only made you think of how good he fucked you with slow and deep thrusts that had you crying.

all you could do was nod at him with a soft smile unsure what to say but you were glad that your dad had come downstairs to save you from saying something stupid or begging john for round two.

the men started in on a conversation while you prepared breakfast unable to keep your eyes off john. "your wife still doing ok?" your dad asked unknowingly dropping a bomb on you as you frowned.

his wife?

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Price: Why is Y/N covered in yellow highlighter? Ghost, holding said yellow highlighter: You said to highlight the important things Y/N, trying not to cry and smudge the ink: You think I'm important? Price: You can't just colour in their face, Simon Y/N, now crying: HE SAID IM IMPORTANT-

[msilwrites]

The "What Would You Take?" Conversation (Captain Price Fic)

Mama Bear's Question. Captain Price x You (Y/N)

Part 2 Part 3

Possessive! John Price, Possessive! Price, Retired! John Price. Implied Big Boss in SpecGru! John Price, Boss!Price Boss in SpecGru! Price. OMG Evil Genius! John Price Diabolical! John Price

John Price x Y/N, John Price x Reader, Captain Price x You

A/N: This idea was because a reel of this sort, did pop-up in my feed. And the answers were, like the one below. LOL, and for some reason, John Price came into mind. Enjoy this one, cheers!

The kitchen was cozy, the dessert you’d baked earlier now almost gone. John leaned back in his chair, watching you scroll through social media, a soft chuckle escaping your lips now and then.

“What’s funny this time?” he asked, curiosity piqued.

You turned the screen toward him, showing a trending video. “It’s this reel trend, where couples ask what they’d take if they broke up or divorced.”

John’s brow furrowed, his lips curving into a skeptical smirk. “Break up, divorce, huh? Not happening.”

“Humour me, John!” you teased, laughing at his seriousness. “So? What would you take?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “EASY!! Your skincare and makeup. Every last bit of it.”

Your eyes widened and blink at him, baffled. “Excuse me? What are you going to do with my skincare? Use my serums and exfoliate your beard?”

He chuckles, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “So you couldn’t leave the house. If I’m not seeing that pretty face, no one else is.” he says playfully, leaning closer with that signature smirk.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “John, that’s ridiculous! I’d just replace them!”

“Replace?” His fork clinked against the plate as he set it down with purpose. “D’you know how much that stuff costs? Your cleanser alone could pay for a decent takeaway. And don’t get me started on that serum... or the fancy sunscreen.”

You blinked, your smile faltering as realization dawned. “Wait… how do you know that?”

“I pay attention,” he replied casually, though the glint in his eyes gave him away.

“You’ve been researching my skincare routine?” you asked, your voice rising as you gulped.

John leaned forward, his tone all too natural. “You think I wouldn’t notice what’s important to you? Or what you pack every time you stay over?” He leaned back again, smug. “I just made a few… observations.”

Your cheeks flushed, a mix of surprise and embarrassment. “John! That’s not fair!”

“Fair?” he repeated, finishing the last bite of his dessert with a satisfied hum. “What’s fair is me making sure you don’t run off lookin’ irresistible to anyone else.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he countered, standing to take the plate to the sink, “you keep coming back every time. Wonder why that is, love?”

There was no way to respond to that—not without admitting he might have a point. His confidence, frustrating as it could be, left you feeling oddly reassured. Because deep down, you knew—he wasn’t just making observations. He was making it clear: no matter the hypothetical question or scenario, it wasn’t happening—because you were his, and nothing was going to change that.

A/N: Might do a next short for this one, who knows, maybe when something pops up soon! I'll post it quick. Hope you enjoyed this one, cheers! Edit: Part 2 and Part 3 are here.

[gomzdrawfr]

messy sketch of you discovering bear!Price's scar on his left palm

other bear!Price stuff I made:

⋆｡°✩ Captain Bear // Having Beary Price all for yourself // big bear!Price // hibernation // om nom nom ⋆｡°✩

[starboye]

i full believe in my heart that captain price is a messy eater, but im talking eating you out, he could go hours at a time in-between your plush thighs, fucking your hole with his tongue and tasting how good you are, and nothing stops him from his endeavors

and when i say nothing i mean nothing, you try to close you legs to get him to stop? he's gripping your thighs open with such shere force it leaves slight marks or your try pushing his head away and he's both of your hands gripped tightly to stop it, nothing is stopping him from eating you out

and the beard just makes it a little worse, it has your legs twitching when he gets deeper and deeper, gripping his big hands around your hips to stop you from trying to climb backwards on the bed, he usually stops in the middle of his little meal just to lay kisses on the beard burns

looking up at you with those sultry eyes that make you fold so quick, letting him go for another hour or two before instantly regretting it, the way his tongue fucks you is just impeccable, you're starting to wonder what they really train in the military at this point because the skills this man has is just otherworldly

[daisies-daydreams]

Greetings! I am here to request a little short piece about Price holding his first-born child. A daughter that kicks, and babbles like a baby should. As the female reader watches from the doorway of the nursery. Of course, when he turns around, he tries to play it cool, but he can’t help the tear in his eye. Thank you, notthatfanfictionwriter

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: None! Author’s Note: Hello dear! Thank you very much for your sweet request! 🫶 I can definitely see Price as a girl dad. D/N = Daughter’s Name.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You quietly padded down the hall, eyes set on the nursery. You put your daughter (D/N) down for a nap about an hour ago, and the small noises coming from the room told you she should be awake by now. Just as you rounded the corner and walked through the doorway, you froze. A smile spread cheek to cheek as you watched your husband, John, bounce her in his bulky arms. You leaned on the threshold as you watched them tenderly. Your husband’s eyes sparkled as he spoke to (D/N) in a hushed tone.

“You have a good nap, yeah?" John asked. Your baby gurgled and kicked around in her little blanket. He laughed. “Feisty little thing-you definitely get that from your mum," John chuckled softly. You rolled your eyes. He hummed as he pointed a finger down and tickled her chubby belly. She giggled, the sound floating around the room like bubbles.

“Look at you, little dove. You've got my eyes and your mum’s pretty hair,” John beamed. You heard him gasp slightly when she suddenly wrapped her tiny palm around his digit. It was incredible how small she was compared to him: her papa bear.

Your heart melted as John leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of your daughter’s head. The little one squealed, raising her other tiny fist as if to protest the feeling of his scratchy beard.

“Sorry, love,” John murmured as he smoothed the small tuft of soft, messy hair. (D/N) babbled in reply. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as his mustache curled up with his bright smile. You could barely make it out, but it looked like a faint tear was rolling down his cheek. He slowly turned as he swayed her in his arms. John’s body stiffened when he saw you leaning on the doorframe, soon shuffling in place awkwardly as you walked towards him.

“I was…just getting (D/N) up from her nap,” he explained. His rigid exterior seemed to melt when you pressed a warm kiss to his scruffy cheek. You tilted your head down and gave him a knowing glance once you pulled back. “What?” he blinked. You shook your head and kissed his cheek again, your hand falling down to pat his lower back.

“I knew you were a softie,” you said. John huffed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, though you couldn’t help but notice the tear stain down his cheek as he cracked a small grin.

You knew how he felt about being a father for the first time. Even though he didn't always express it, you were aware of the doubt that filled him throughout your pregnancy. How could he by worthy to hold something so precious as a life when he’s taken them for years? You had to remind John that he saved more lives than taken them, something that stuck with him to this day.

Your baby suddenly broke out into a high-pitched squeal, causing both of you to look down at her. She gave you a wide, toothless grin, her sea-green eyes shining with overabundant joy. John glanced over at you, his features relaxed and warm.

“I think she wants her mum,” he said. Your daughter, however, reached her hands out towards him and whined. You rested a hand on his forearm.

“No-I think she wants her papa to hold her a little while longer,” you replied while patting his arm. He raised a bushy brow and looked down at the small infant beaming up at him.

“You sure, love?” he asked, a bit of hesitancy laced in his gruff voice. (D/N) babbled and stuck her tongue out. John couldn't help but laugh at his child’s silliness, mirroring her expression.

“Don't worry, I know she's in good hands," you nudged his shoulder lightly. "Besides, I have other chores I need to finish. If she needs to eat she’ll start crying for me,” you told him. He nodded before looking back down at the babe in his arms.

“Alright, sweetpea. You’re with me,” John beamed as he tapped her button nose. She giggled again as he strode towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room. You smiled as he slid into the seat, your daughter cooing as he snatched a book off of a nearby shelf.

“You're in for a treat, little dove," John said as he cracked open the book. Your baby chewed and slobbered on her hand as she tried to shove it into her mouth. "Your Nan read this to me when I was a babe,” he smiled. (D/N) tilted her head curiously as she went to clutch her blanket. John's eyes became misty again as he leaned down to press another kiss to her head.

“I’ll be in the bedroom,” you said as you turned. John gave a small grunt in reply. You heard him clear his throat as you stepped out of the nursery.

“Corduroy is a bear who once lived in the toy department of a big store...” he began. You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at your husband being so caring and attentive to your little one. It wasn’t long before you returned from putting your laundry away. You grinned ear to ear as you saw (D/N) secure and fast asleep in John's lap, your love snoring softly with the book hanging loosely in his other hand. You pulled your phone out, silently capturing the moment. You were careful as you tiptoed back into the hall, leaving the door cracked open.

“Sweet dreams,” you whispered gently.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tags: @notthatfanfictionwriter

[soleilapproves]

You’re eating fruit and your friends can’t stop watching. (Ghost and Soap)

Notes: suggestive, crack fic.

main masterlist

One would think that the two men were on the battlefield with the way they were intently staring at you.

Simon was focused on the way you’d take a bite out of your apple, lips wrapping around the curvature of the fruit as your teeth sunk into its crisp flesh.

So pretty and plump. Like an apple

Johnny was too busy staring at the droplets of juice that were trailing down your chin. He could almost taste the tartness as he imagined himself licking you clean. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning when he saw you lick your lips to clean up the stickiness left behind.

You then disposed of the apple and grabbed a banana. Simon’s hand immediately latched on to his thigh. He began to shift in his seat as he watched you take a bite of the banana.

However, you didn’t chew the entire thing and kept a morsel of it in your left cheek, too distracted to chew because you were on your phone.

Simon’s fingers dug into his thighs at the sight.

He felt like a dog in heat.

Johnny began to imagine his own-

“What are you two fuckin’ idiots doing here? Get back to your work stations!” Price barked as he walked into the base’s lounge area.

But Simon and Johnny were too entranced by you to respond.

Confused, Price looked in the same direction as them to see what was so interesting.

“Oh.” The captain breathed out with a slight blush.

_

part 2 (no smut :/, but lots of kissing)

[dumbbitchgalore]

John Price is a muncher.

And that is a fact.

Old Man!Price on the other hand is a devourer.

This man has got so much practice under his belt that he has no reason to boast about his sex life and skill to anyone. So when you decide to give him a chance seemingly bored with the recurring playboys that you're dated coupled with your inclination for older men, Price didn't seem like a bad option.

Sure he's given up trying to dye his hair, letting the grey strands sprout from his head and beard, and he's developed a pudgy body that puts he's once muscular physique and brute strength to shame but he makes that all up with his skill.

Old habits die hard, and John's thirst to satisfy a willing vunt has never really been satiated in his life time. And your obedient cunt makes his addiction ten times worse than it was.

You'll be squealing under him, begging, pleading for a break but his hold on you never lets up.

John will simply chuckle, stuff his nose into your sopping, warm pussy, inhaling the scent like it was a god-mandated order only for him to go back to lapping at your cunt like the bastard he is.

He won't let go, not until he's had his fill.