#captain price x female reader

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise, ch. 4

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.1k

cw: misogynistic language, brief violence

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

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nathan blinked at you, almost as if he was waiting for your words to catch up with his brain.

“what did you say?” he asked in a dangerously calm voice. your bravery wavered the moment the words left your lips, resolve melting under his dead stare.

“ye heard her, she’s done with yer sorry ass,” johnny said, startling you from your staring contest with nathan. his friendly demeanor had shifted into something more menacing, the blue of his eyes seeming to ice over as he glared at nathan.

“i know what she said,” nathan practically hissed out, staring down johnny before whipping his attention back to you, “i want to hear you say it, because i don’t believe you.”

you started stuttering, finding yourself floundering under his withering glare. to be fair to nathan, this wasn’t the first time that you had tried to break up with him, and each time you had come running back, like he had some kind of evil curse on you. though, that wasn’t fair either, it wasn’t as if he was all bad, he helped you out of multiple depressive states and he never made you stay with him, necessarily.

“she’s not saying it again, once is enough” john said, stepping in front of you, half-blocking your view of nathan. you peaked around john’s frankly massive stature to look at your boyfriend, whose face had gone red in the face with rage.

“oh yeah? well, i’m not leaving this house until she says it.”

simon, who had been a silent observer, took this chance to step closer to you, “you try that and you’re getting tossed out on your ass.”

nathan looked between the three men, as if just now realizing the predicament he was in, then looked back at you, almost pleading.

“please, babe, don’t do this. i don’t know what kind of bullshit these men have been putting in your mind but i promise that i’m the best thing for you. i mean, look at all i’ve done for you, i’ve put up with you-“ nathan began saying, and you didn’t know if it was the fact that you had three huge men willing to beat him up for you or the fact that something inside you snapped but you cut him off.

“put up with me? put up with me? are you serious? do you know how many times i had to justify our relationship to my friends? my family? how you never have anything positive to say? how many times i’ve had to apologize when you were in the wrong? i’m sick of you and your excuses, so you want to hear it again? i’m breaking up with you, for good.” you huffed slightly at the end of your rant, feeling the weight of your relationship slipping off your shoulders.

nathan’s face seized up, twisting into something ugly and spitting, “fine. i knew you were a whore anyways, you know these men only want to help you because they want to fuck you, right? and that’s what you deserve, to be a worn out hole for men.”

that was all it took before your fist connected with his face. he went sprawling out onto the carpet, head connecting dully with the floor. the room went silent except for the sound of nathan’s quiet groans from the ground.

you never expected that punching someone in the face would make your hand hurt that bad, but there you were, sitting on the couch with a bag of peas on your knuckles.

after nathan had recovered as much as he could, john had grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him in the air like a mewling kitten, gotten close to his face and told him he had five minutes to pack up and get the hell out of his house.

you weren’t really sure where he went but he couldn’t have scrambled out of that house faster than if his ass was on fire. while john was handling your boyfriend, or, ex rather, johnny congratulated you on your punch, saying that he never wanted to get on your bad side. simon just grunted in agreement, patting you on the back before retrieving the frozen bag of peas that you were currently holding to your aching hand.

you realized that in the couple of hours that you had been here you had hurt both of your hands, and you laughed when wondering which body part would be next.

this startled john who had been sitting in the room with you, reading his book. “what’s wrong?” he asked, putting down his book and moving to get up.

you shook your head, “no, no, i’m okay, sorry. i was just.. never mind, i’m fine.”

he calmed down visibly at your words and settled back into his chair. after the whole debacle with nathan, soap and ghost decided to head home early, figuring you would need some space to process things, and they could just eat dinner at home, simon adding that johnny might be too much to handle after a breakup. this led to the two of them bickering as simon herded johnny out the door.

although you did miss their presence, you admitted to yourself that he was probably right. you kept running over your breakup with nathan, finding yourself tending back into your doormat tendencies before you shook yourself out of it and the cycle began again.

you were knocked out of your thoughts by john asking, “you hungry?” you hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten up from his chair, the book long abandoned on the sofa. you chewed the inside of your cheek as you shook your head.

he looked slightly worried, standing there for a moment before he spoke again, “okay, well, there’ll be a bowl of it in the fridge for you in case you want any.”

you nodded, “thank you, i’m sorry.”

that just made him look even more worried, “hey, don’t apologize, if you’re not hungry, you’re not hungry, nothing you can do about it.”

you swallowed back another apology and just nodded. he gave you one last look over, seemingly analyzing the state of you, then deciding that you were alright for the time being and turning on his heel back towards the kitchen.

you sat there on that couch until the peas had all but thawed out. your hand was still throbbing but the pain had faded to a dull ache, so for the first time in a couple of hours you moved from your spot and rose to your feet. you headed to the kitchen, peering around the corner first to see if john was still in there cleaning up, which thankfully, he was not.

you tiptoed over to the freezer and put the bag of peas back before shutting the freezer door gingerly, wincing at the loud noise it made.

“you don’t have to sneak around, you know?” you yelped and jumped slightly in the air before turning around to see john leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. his face had an annoyingly amused expression, seemingly taking joy in the fact that he had startled you.

“christ, you scared me,” you said, clutching your chest and leaning against the counter.

“sorry” he lied, “thought you knew i was there.”

you just glared at him, which ended up having the opposite effect you intended as he laughed and shook his head.

“i did mean what i said though, no sense in sneaking around, i already know you’re here,” he said, making you flush slightly as you realized how stupid you looked.

“yes, i know you know i’m here,” you sputtered out, finding that that’s the best comeback you could come up with at the moment.

he shrugged, leaning off the wall and uncrossing his arms as he walked closer to you until he was right in front of you. you swallowed thickly as you looked up at him, having to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes.

“you’re blocking the fridge,” he said, and you felt your face heat yet again, of course that’s why he was standing in front of you like that, not any reason your mind was coming up with. you quickly moved out of the way, muttering a hasty apology. he opened the door and took out a bowl with a lid on it and motioned it out for you to take it, “you hungry yet?”

as you took the bowl from him your stomach audibly growled and you smiled sheepishly, “guess so.”

after insisting that you go sit down at the kitchen table, he heated up your soup on the stove, then placed the steaming bowl in front of you. you muttered out a soft ‘thank you’ and he smiled softly in return.

you picked up your spoon and then looked at him, “so.. are you gonna watch me eat?”

“i’ll do whatever you want me to do,” he said, looking down at you.

it was too bad that there was already a spoonful of the soup in your mouth because you choked indelicately at his words. taking a moment to catch your breath you shook your head, “i’d prefer if you didn’t watch me.”

he shrugged, “as you wish” and he left you to your dinner.

as soon as he left the room you put your head in your hands, “fuck, what is wrong with me? he just made you some dinner and you’re already blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl!” you whispered harshly to yourself. you scrubbed your hands down your face before shaking your thoughts away, resolving yourself to finish your dinner without any more stupid thoughts.

after you had finished, you washed out your bowl and put it on the drying rack because he didn’t have a dishwasher, something you found slightly egregious, but it did go with his whole homestead vibe.

you walked back into the living room and he was reading on the sofa again. your head cocked slightly in surprise when you realized he was wearing wire-rimmed reading glasses on the tip of his nose.

you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before but there they were, making him look like some kind of distinguished librarian.

he looked up at your small giggle, peering over the top of his glasses at you. “what’s so funny?”

you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling again as you answered, “i just.. wouldn’t think that you would wear glasses?”

he raised an eyebrow, taking them off and folding them with his chin, “and why is that?”

you bit the inside of your cheek, “i don’t know, you just seem so.. manly and.. i don’t know, i just never pictured you with glasses.”

“manly..” he repeated slowly, “i’m too manly to wear glasses?”

you shook your head, laughing slightly, “sorry, it’s dumb, it just made me laugh.”

he chuckled at you, “well, i’m an old man, and i need to see. usually i wear contacts but at night i take them out and wear my eyeglasses.”

“to be honest, now that i got over that initial shock, i think they suit you” you admitted.

“not really sure how to take that, but thank you” he said, mirth crinkling at the edges of eyes. it was silent for a moment, just the crackle of the fire john had lit in the fireplace filled the air.

“i’m.. i’m going to head to bed, if that’s alright with you,” you fiddled with your hands at chest height.

“you don’t have to ask permission to go to bed,” he laughed.

“i wasn’t asking permission,” you retorted, it was embarrassing how easily john could turn your words around on you, “i was just.. making sure there wasn’t anything else you needed.”

“from you? darling, i don’t need anything from you, alright? don’t you worry about me.”

there you went, blushing again, which made you utter out a quick “good night!” as you turned from him and headed up noisily up the creaking stairs.

after you finished your nighttime routine you heard john head up the stairs as well, his footsteps passing by your door and heading towards his room before you heard the door close softly. peeling your ear off the door, you paced backwards and then flopped on the bed, sighing loudly.

maybe nathan was right to be worried about you, it hadn’t even been a whole day after breaking up with him before you found yourself getting a schoolgirl crush on the farmer whose house you were crashing at.

as you slipped under the covers you tried to summon tears over ending your relationship with nathan but all you could think about as you drifted off to sleep was john standing in front of you, his gaze shifted downwards into yours.

a/n: lol sorry, it’s so embarrassing how long it takes me to get these out 😭 and also!! i am shit at writing dialogue so the awkwardness at the end was both intentional and unintentional..

taglist:

@the-disaster-in-waiting

@night-girl-301

@darkangel4121

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@yellow-cat

@snailss

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@krispymagazinepizza-blog

[bunnyinvanilla]

Do you think John would be the type to wake up with the deep husky, still half asleep type of voice?

oh my goodness gracious absolutely YES

his voice gets even deeper upon waking up, rough and different from the usual confident, commanding tone he carries — it rambles through his chest like the awakening of a earthquake, its coarse, husky and drowsy.

“Mornin’, love,”

oh my gosh, it’s such a warm sound, it sends a flame right through your belly and paints your cheeks red, first thing in the morning.

and when his heavy arm is draped across your waist, caressing your spine with thick, scarred fingers, rasping out your name in that voice?

you definitely cannot fight the urge to slip away from the soft duvets and climb on top of him, both legs swinging on his sides — and that’s the first sun he sees upon waking up, your smile and gentle doe eyes, warmer than any sunlight.

“good morning daddy, did you miss me while you were asleep?” you giggle, playfully, both hands lightly caressing his muscular and hairy torso (dad body dad body dad body)

“yeah doll, was fightin’ the sleep monster to let me see my little bunny,” he chuckles, warmly and deeply.

his voice should be illegal, you always try and tell him that smoking so much is bad for his health, but those cigars have shaped his voice in the most alluring way ever — even his british accent gets thicker, more pronounced, coarse, lethal, it could cut the air around you.

“should try and read my books out loud to me…” you tilt your head, and a glimmer of confident amusement twinkles in his eyes, at the sight of your red, warm cheeks.

“blushing already, sweet thing?”

he sounds like a grizzly bear.

(˶˃ᆺ˂˶) ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

[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.

[elysianightsss]

John, he’d been waiting for this moment, been waiting for you to come through the door with tired eyes, an ache in your bones and your head pounding so much you were disappointed that your instincts had kicked in when you slipped on some ice outside and caught yourself instead of letting yourself get knocked the fuck out. So disappointed.

And after a long train ride into the beautiful countryside, a taxi ride to the rustic cabin that always looked more like a cottage to you, you weren’t even bothered about special greetings anymore.

You practically collapsed on John’s lap, curling up there. Your sleeves pulled over your fists because you once again forgot a coat on the way out of your flat. Rubbing your tired eyes with said sleeve covered fist, you mumbled out a sleepy ‘hello’ to which he chuckled pulling your hand away from your now red eye.

“Hello to you too love.” You snuggled further into his neck, thankful that he had trimmed his mutton chops and beard down so they weren’t massively bushy and tickling at your nose like last time. “Long day?”

“The longest.” At this he grinned. John had been waiting for you to have a bad day at work so he could convince you to quit and live off of his money. He’d mentioned it so many times before but unfortunately you always thought he was joking and when he had rasped it into your ear while he was buried deep inside you, you thought that he was just being his usual possessive self.

Not fucking true. Okay it’s partly true, but John was serious. He wanted to put you up in his well polished cabin. Wanted to marry you so you couldn’t argue against him when he said ‘what’s mine is yours’. Wanted to come back from missions to find his cute little wife in his bed. He wanted to spend his free time gardening and baking with you. Going to the farmers market with you and he always wanted to try his hand at painting.

John Price wanted nothing more than to come home to you swollen with his child. Couldn’t wait to take leave so he could take care of you properly. Desperately wanted nothing more than to be there when you bore his child, holding your hand and telling you ‘you’re doing so well, my brave girl’. Wanted to see the sweet little baby that you made together on your hip while you told him all about the new curtain samples you got because ‘the ones in the den are ghastly’ as you so eloquently put it.

And now this was his chance to broach the subject seriously with you. If you agreed, which was a big chance because of how dishevelled you looked and how exhausted you must have been feeling. Then that was brilliant.

If you said no? Maybe he would have to resort to the old ways. Getting you fired. Getting you evicted. Taking all the fight out of you until you truly are broken and begging him for help. It’s not nice but it’s necessary.

“I have something I want to discuss with you sweet’art.” . . .

[luminni]

I have a strangely specific idea in my head of Captain John Price meeting you, a twenty something year old grad student, at the pub he frequents on leave. It's close to your uni and you let your friends drag you away from your term paper for a night to dry and de-stress. You end up dancing and mingling around the crowded space with your friends, slowly watching as they start talking to some nice looking guys and you get stuck with some finance bro who's trying to mansplain cryptocurrency and investments to you. You excuse your self to the bathroom only to escape from the agonizing conversation and find yourself up at the bar. Trying to be the responsible (and mostly sober) friend, you pay and close your friends tabs because they're drunk enough already, when you see him. Leaning over the bar, button up shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the nicer pants he still had on from his meeting earlier in the day made him standout from the usual college kids and drunk regulars. Nursing a whiskey with an orange slice and running a hand through his salt and pepper hair, you realize you've been staring when his gaze shifts in your direction and you lock eyes.

You realize you should probably say something or at least try to pretend you weren't just ogling him because he has to be the most attractive man you've ever seen. But he just silently flags over the bartender and orders you a copy of his drink. When you try to stutter out an apology because you had already closed your tab, he just hits you with the,

"I know, 's why I'm paying" in a gravelly and commanding tone that makes your hair stand on end. So you mutter a thank you and lean your back against the bar. He hands you your drink when it comes, waving off your second attempt to thank him, instead saying,

" 's dangerous for ya to be hanging around here on your own."

"Oh I'm not," you reply quickly, "I'm here with friends, they're just," you gesture to the dense crowd, "somewhere in there"

He hums, looking at you from over his shoulder, watching the way your throat bobs as you take a sip of the amber liquid. Barking out a small laugh when your face screws up at the intense, bitter taste. Finally turning to lean his back against the bar top after finishing the last of his drink, crossing his burly arms in front of his chest, looking down at you as you cough a bit.

"Not used to it huh?" He grins

"Oh be quiet" you tease, slapping him on his bicep, eyes widening at the solid block of muscle you just hit, "Not my fault uni kids only drink shitty hard seltzers"

"Uni?" he questions, one eyebrow raised

"Stuck in grad school" you confirm

"Livin' on this campus?" He asks, gesturing vaguely with a tilt of his head.

You nod your head, "Got a little place with my roommate." Shifting the focus, you look up at him, "So how about you? No offense but you don't exactly look like a college student."

He chuckles, "No, no I couldn't pass for that 'f I tried." He took a deep breath, "'ve got a flat a little ways away I stay in when 'm on leave."

"Leave?"

"When 'm off duty," he tries to explain but you just tilt you head, "Military." He explained again

"Ohhh" you respond, exchanging the simple pleasantries back and forth with him for quite some time, what's your major? where are your from? that sort of thing, until, after a brief silence,

"Boyfriend?" He asked quickly, seemingly out of nowhere. You looked up at him startled, an awkward laugh escaped your lips.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you joked, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground for a moment as silence filled the conversation, "...but no, I- I don't have one"

He shifted slightly, "Unless you want to count the guy who tried to explain the budgeting to me earlier tonight." You laughed

"he think you didn't know what that was or something?" He smirked

"apparently" You giggled, missing how his eyes narrowed in fondness.

Suddenly you jumped up to stand straight, "Oh I love this song!" you beamed, starting to sing along to the lyrics of what he immediately knew was "Reelin' in the years".

"So you're a Steely Dan fan huh?" He moved closer to you

"Love 'em" Your smile was infectious, "What? you're old so you have to like them."

He scoffed, "37 isn't that old."

"37? Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

That got a full laugh out of him, a surge of pride went through your chest as he leaned his head back and ran a hand over his face. As the song faded out and the music went back to stuff you either didn't know, didn't like, or both, you sighed. Looking over at him to find him admiring you already, he strode closer to you and leaned down to mutter right in your ear,

"c'mon doll, 've got a vinyl player at my flat." He leaned back and gestured with his over his shoulder and to the door.

It was your turn to scoff, "For real? I don't even know your name!?"

Your puzzled expression warmed his heart a bit, "It's John."

"That doesn't change anything." you rolled your eyes and watched as his eyebrows raised. You held his gaze for what felt like an eternity as your resolve faltered in his presence. "Just- let me tell my friends!" you spat out, "and it's," you yelled your name to him as you turned to find your friend among the crowd. He repeated your name to himself with a smile and grabbed his old Carhartt jacket for you to wear.

A/n: I'll write more for this later teheheh

[fictionismyreality3]

Three’s Company 18+

Warnings: 🚨SMUTTTT🚨, unintended exhibitionism, voyeurism

Notes: father daddy forgive me for I have sinned

You know what I’m thinking about?

I’m thinking about getting fucked against two way glass in an interrogation room by Price. He set the whole thing up just to let you experience your exhibitionism kink, making sure that nobody was actually there on the other to see you because you’re his.

Your tits pushed up against the glass, his rough hands on your hips as he slams into you from behind, reaching up to grab a fist full of your hair. Little debauched moans, short and stuttered, leaving your lips with every slap of his balls on your clit.

Both of you unaware that Simon was watching. Entering the room on the other side, he’d initially just been looking for some papers or something when he was met with the sight of your body pressed up against the glass.

And it all quickly devolves into him fucking himself, rutting up against the glass where you are, separated by just a thin pane. Panting and groaning like a mutt, the soundproof interrogation room preventing him from being revealed.

His brain melting out of his dick because something about how you’re just right there, but completely unaware of him drooling into his mask has him literally fucking into the glass and cumming the same time as you and Price.

You and John leave none the wiser.

[konigsblog]

John Price as a pervy stepdad will always have me obsessed

TW: INTOXICATION, NON-CON, STEPCEST. MDNI 18+

It's in Price's nature, a debauched sicko with old-fashioned and taboo beliefs. I mean, how can he not be obsessed with such a stupid, foolish thing like yourself? You're a puppet for his amusement.

Price is drawn to you due to your vulnerability, how you lack the ability to protect yourself, to think independently. You don't notice his perverted glare and the sick comments he utters underneath his breath, his eyes wandering over your figure, admiring every curve, what it would feel like to overpower you and restrain you, take you for his own satisfaction. John knows that you trust him more than anyone else, that you'd never accuse him of being twisted and deranged. To you, he's a protective and caring stepfather. Someone who stepped up for you.

You're too easy to manipulate, coerce, and control. You can't differentiate Price's love from fatherly love, to him being rotten and wrong. His large and scarred hands wander down your body, with the clock striking midnight and a spiked beer pressed against your soft lips. Price uses his authority and role as your stepfather to benefit himself, to leave you helpless and vulnerable beneath him, pleasing himself using your tight, slick holes.

You wouldn't turn down your stepfather, would you? He's been through so much, dollface.

He'll spread your soft, warm thighs after drugging you up, already apologising with a snarky, cocky grin plastered on his face for what he'll do, for the brutality and inhumanity that'll come with his rape sessions. You're compliant, ready to obey. It's like training a mutt, you're eager, patiently waiting for your next command. You won't remember a thing the next morning, that's for sure. You never do, but you feel the shame and guilt, the intense ache between your legs.

“Jus’ relax, doll. Do your papa a favour, yeah? I need this...” he whispers quietly between sloppy thrusts, already forcing himself inside your tight, wet slit while you nod and sob out drunkenly, intoxicated off of the spiked alcohol.

You accept the pain and discomfort, the stretch and disgust that washes over you with each thrust. They quicken, he hits deeper, leaves your bloodied and bruised with his ropes of come painting your body. You lay back, your body contorted into many different positions while you take what you're given, accepting everything just to please the man who stepped up for you.

[barrackspredator]

obsessed with mrs. price who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck that her husband is a captain. don’t bring that authoritative tone home john. the missus ain’t about to have it.

[wetpussyju1ce]

bear!John Price x Scrawny Wolf!fem reader

+18 mdni

reader who likes to bite and gnaw and chew on John's fingers. she has sharp teeth and is obsessed w the scent and feel of his hairy skin. so she's constantly using him as a chew toy on any given chance. and John never complains. not even when she leaves teeth marks all over him. he's just happy to let her have her way w him. marking him for everyone to see.

reader who enjoys getting smothered by bear!price. she likes how heavy and big he is. how imposing he is as a figure. likes to feel the weight of his muscles and fat against her body as he absolutely rams her sweet pussy to next sunday.

reader who enjoys caressing and petting that man like theres no tomorrow, using a brush to freaking groom his chest hair because he's sooo hairy, so incredibly hairy all over and it's heavenly. and reader doesn't even mind when she sucks on the fat of his skin, the hairs never bothered her, she's a werewolf after all.

price who likes to play wrestle w her. while she bites and growls and scratches. he gathers her in his arms and squishes her under the sheer weight of his body. trapping her. she whines and hisses to be freed but all he does is bury his face in her hair and traps her arms under her body. soon enough he ends up rutting his massive bulge against her ass and he ends up mounting her in record time, grunting and panting as he shoves all of his girth inside her small cunt. She cries and howls and all he does is slam his hips against her ass and legs, his heavy balls continously slapping against her. he ends up shushing her, cooing and licking at her tear soaked cheeks as he makes home inside her guts.

And when they come, John doesn't pull out, instead he moves them to their sides, him being the bigger spoon, still plugging all his come inside her with his cock as he drags fluffy blankets over them both.

John who gets possessive and obsessive whenever winter starts to approach, worries abt his scrawny werewolf mate, tries to constantly feed her to try to fatten her up, feeds her his freshest catch of the day, fruits, bread and eggs. He wraps her in so many layers when it's cold and she's in human form. she's so tiny and gets extra worried about her getting sick, when it's been years since she's fallen sick, but he doesn't care, doesn't want to take any chances.

John who likes to manhandled his tiny mate, lifts her and carries her away from social settings when she's abt to rip someone's face off with her teeth when they piss her off. sometimes he casually goes on abt his day, shopping at the market w his mate on his shoulders. her butt on his shoulder as he holds her legs close to his chest. most of the time she's enjoying a cone of ice cream as he carries all of their shopping with one hand, and does everything with that one hand as well, with no complaints.

nobody ever says anything to them. especially when he's the biggest shifter in the whole village, and she's the one w the sharpest teeth you'll ever meet. so everyone keeps their mouth shut, because really, it doesn't affect them or hurt them.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Through the Corn

Scare Actor John Price x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: rough oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, primal kink, mask kink, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Requested by @tintamm for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Chased Through a Corn Maze)

You visit the corn maze John is temporarily working at as a scare actor. A bit of silly fun turns into a steamy chase in the dark.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

This is the event you've been waiting for all year. There isn't anything like it for miles. You've mostly come in support of your boyfriend, John Price, and to experience a good scare.

Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze, the sign reads at the entrance.

By entering into the Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze you automatically OPT-IN to our interactive experience.

During October, John enjoys earning extra money by working as a scare actor at different attractions. This is his first year working for a local business and not some large amusement park.

You may be touched, carried, restrained, pushed, pulled, separated, fed, played with, and asked to participate in various activities.

This is the adult corn maze. Something special only on certain nights. John wanted you to come specifically to this event, mostly to see all their hard work, but to also have a bit of fun. You already know what he'll be dressed as, but John is the protective type. He doesn't want anyone else touching you.

At any time if you want to OPT-OUT you can say "BOO" and our actors will stop their interactive experience with you.

Welcome to Black Hallow.

"You're John's woman." The security guard at the front entrance gives you a kind smile.

"I am."

"Said you were coming." He waves you in and then gives you a little salute. "Have fun."

The entrance to the corn maze is narrow, allowing for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder but nothing more. As you approach a T-interaction, a scare actor in torn jeans, a plaid button-up, and a stringy blond wig roams the area. Their shoulders and legs jerk about like a roaming zombie, and when you approach, they block the path to the right, forcing you off to the left.

Either John has planned this or you're simply following a direction. He said he would find you. That he'd chase you down.

Out in the country, there isn't any light other than the moon overhead and that which the maze provides. Most of the lights are red and dampened, giving the space a blood-tinged feel. As you walk, the cornstalks sway and move. You hear others in the maze cry out or giggle. A few times, you come across other visitors. One woman is cornered before being lifted up and over a scare actor's shoulder, snatched and separated from her group.

Will John find you like this? Will he corner you? Take you away and do with you what he likes?

As you take a turn, you find a wall of darkness. You cannot see the other end of the corn. No light reaches it. Adrenaline spikes in your gut, creeping up to your chest. For most of the walk, you've been enjoying yourself, but this stirs up a sense of dread.

There is nothing dangerous. Nothing sinister. You are fully aware of this and yet your body's physical response is the exact opposite of what your brain is telling you.

You're swallowed up by the dark. There are no stars, and the moon is currently covered by clouds. Every step forward only increases the creeping anxiety. Your heart thunders in your chest, drowning out all noise.

Something brushes against your right side. You jerk away from the sensation, knocking into corn stalks on your left.

Have you strayed that far over?

You reach out, attempting to find your bearings and a sense of direction. Moving left puts you into the corn. Moving right is open air and—

A large, muscled arm wraps around your waist. A scream claws up your throat, but before it emerges, a hand clamps over your mouth, stifling your cry. Something long and slightly hooked brushes against the side of your face, the tip catching on the front of your jacket. Instinct drives you. Reaching up to touch it, you find no blade or any sharpened weapon.

It's a mask. A plague doctor's mask.

John.

The hand over your mouth slowly descends, resting against the front of your throat. The grip is firm but not painful. It’s a show of dominance and a command for submission. You're drawn against a warm body and hardness.

"That you, John?"

There is a brief stretch of silence before his familiar husky voice answers. "Ready to run, love?"

You nod and John releases you. "Go," he whispers, and you take off.

As you charge forward, you're not sure if John is following. The darkness is almost absolute and you crash headlong into the corn before stumbling backward and righting yourself.

Turning left, you move ahead, only to emerge into a red-lit area with stacked hay. They create natural barriers, and the perfect place for anyone to hide behind. But John is behind you. Your path is clear.

As you navigate around the stacks, a figure steps out from behind the final row. John's silhouette is unmistakable. The plague doctor mask is only confirmation.

You come to halt, nearly slipping as your shoe catches on some flattened corn. Walking backward and away from John's casual stroll, you bump into a stack of hay. It's sturdy, and doesn't topple forward, but it startles you all the same.

You glance away from John for a moment—a single second. When you return your attention to him, you find the space completely empty. Spinning in a circle, you realize you're alone, at least to the naked eye.

John could still be watching somewhere in the dark. Tentatively, you make your way forward and into another stretch of empty corn. This area lacks light, but the clouds move at the perfect moment, revealing a dark figure at the other end before another turn.

John's masked head tilts to the side. There are shrieks and screams from somewhere behind you. Going forward is the only option.

You start slowly, creeping forward. John remains perfectly still until the last possible second. He lunges, and you step to the side, shrieking, running for all your worth. John follows, easily keeping pace. You are no match for his endurance even as you truly attempt to outpace him. The thrill pumping through your blood is thunderous. You're no longer scared, just excited.

You want John to catch you.

A few more turns in the corn and a fist grabs the back of your jacket. You're yanked to a stop, crashing into John as he hauls you against him. The plague mask is pushed up, at least enough for him to bend you backwards a bit and claim your mouth with a possessive kiss. Heat shoots right through you, swirling downwards toward your pussy.

You groan against his mouth, and John answers with one of his own. Your lips part and his tongue slides inside. You suck on it, giving it a light nip. John's grip on you tightens, and then you're being forced to your knees.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other undoing the front of his pants, you watch with eagerness as he reveals his hardness to you. Eagerly, you open your mouth, surrendering to his control, and the way he fucks your throat. Your mouth is full of him, and your eyes water from the intrusion. The two of you might be in the dark but you're out in the open. The thrill of potentially getting caught is its own addiction.

Placing one hand against his thigh, you anchor yourself, even as John controls the movement of your head. The knees of your jeans will surely be stained, but it's worth it. It's worth watching John's head tip back in pleasure as he forces your mouth to take all of him.

Relaxing your throat, you urge him on with soft sighs of pleasure. His fingers tighten, and then he's holding you in place, your lips nearly touching his pelvis as he finishes down your throat.

You swallow every drop, and when he withdraws, you keep your mouth open.

"Tongue out,” he growls.

You do so and John hums with approval. With his hand on the back of your neck, John draws you back to standing. A hint of moonlight illuminates his eyes. They are soft as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

"Run," he murmurs, readjusting the mask.

You languidly back away and John shakes his head as he starts after you.

You don't make it far. A few corners and then John is dragging you into the corn itself. He undoes and shoves your jeans down to your knees before guiding you down on all fours.

Amongst the dirt and corn, John breeds you. Each thrust is rough and intense, skin slapping against skin in the dark. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, stifling your moans as best you can. People rush by, yelling and screeching as actors chase them through the flattened corn.

None of them notice you.

John's grunts are muted behind the mask, but his hands are harsh, fingers digging into your skin, holding on like you'll disappear. You'll be filthy when he's through with you. Not only messy between your legs but covered dirt-strained and sweaty.

His steady thrusting becomes erratic, a sign of his end. Your pussy flutters and clenches, squeezing around him, pleasure surging upward in a wave of bliss. Your orgasm is intense and you have to bite down on your own arm to stifle the moan.

John holds you tightly against him, his release exploding, flooding your pussy. The two of you linger like this before he slips out. John presses two fingers to your sex. They slide through the mess.

He drags you up, flattening your back against his front. Those two cum-coated fingers drag over your lips, forcing them open. You suck them clean, satiated.

When they pop wetly from your mouth, you twist to look at him, and you're greeted with his lips on yours. These kisses are languid. Sweet.

"Up for one more chase?"

taglist:

@km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath @glitterypirateduck

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@marispunk @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[bunnyinvanilla]

Sugar daddy!price x fem!reader (bar owner series)

🎂 warnings: suggestive at the end, minors dni please, laaaarge age gap (price is in his 40s and reader is 21) <3

if price found out you haven’t been eating since breakfast this morning and are currently starving, he’d be mad. Not at you, but for you. so, like a sweet, good little girl that wished not to burden him with concern, you rush behind the counter, to the back storage room next to his office — a quick snack, that’s what you’re going to indulge into.

your hands carefully dig into your backpack, and as you take out the piece of strawberry shortcake you bought on the way back from college, you make a little hop on the spot — barely able to contain excitement.

your fingers work hastily to remove the paper and plastic from the box, and the scent of sweet, sugary whipped cream and strawberries fill your nose. You smile to yourself as you gather some whipped cream with your finger and bring it your lips.

you scarcely contain a silent moan when the sugar melts in your mouth like a cloud of sweetness, as if heaven itself decided to reveal its secrets.

“gosh it’s so good” you murmur, bringing another whitened finger to your lips, mouth already half filled with the previous bite.

“oh you are indeed”

you startle in your own tracks when you hear the low, deep voice from behind you, like a little bunny getting caught feasting on a farmer’s carrot land.

turning towards the door, you find john, his imposing, muscular figure looking down at you with his signature lazy, amused smirk. Your eyes fall on his flannel shirt, the first buttons are languidly left untied, allowing you a stolen glance of his hairy chest, his pectorals that make your mouth water as much as the long forgotten piece of cake in your hands.

dumbfounded, you blink up at him twice, swallowing down the remaining mushy cake you stopped chewing on upon seeing him. Your cheeks grow red, sunrise reflecting on them with how bright and warm they look.

“Sir, uhm…i was, i was-“ you struggle to compose yourself, lowering your hands as he slowly begins to strade over you, the familiar scent of cologne and tobacco mingling with your vanilla perfume.

“hungry? can see that, angel,” he whispers, clearly entertained by your shyness. A lazy, seductive smile appears on his visage like a natural decor, one you’ve never seen him not wearing since meeting you.

once he’s close enough to tower over you, his graying, dark beard catches your attention, his mustache and salt and pepper hair, the way the muscles of his hairy forearms bulge with every move, everything about him screams strong masculinity, control and dominance.

he lifts up a hand towards your face, and you hold your breath as he uses his calloused thumb to wipe some whipped cream off the corner of your glossed lips. He brings the digit to his own mouth, licking the cream off his finger — the sight makes the pit of your stomach twist, a warm knot tightens in your belly and roots all the way down between your thighs.

you have to slowly place the cake down on a nearby surface otherwise you’d make it drop.

he licks his mustache, his sharp, intense eyes fleck to you, studying silently and carefully every single reaction he could get and read off you, “it does taste good though doll, you’re right,”

his voice deepens, a baritone that sounds gruff and heavy, and you involuntarily hide your hands behind your back, gently holding onto the edge od the table. With a slow, deliberate movement, he brings his licked finger down, underneath your skirt, and presses it against your clothed clit.

as if a spark shot through you, you almost squeak, a muffled whimper leaves your lips, an unfamiliar sound that your own ears don’t recognize. He keeps his eyes on you, lid and thin, as he slowly brushes it over your panties,

“but I’m sure when I finally get a taste of you, you’ll taste even sweeter” his words sound like a growl, an impatient promise.

he knows you’re a sweet, young, inexperienced, untouched girl, and as much as he was a gentleman, as much as he wanted to handle you cautiously, like a porcelain doll that could break in a heartbeat and needed the best care and attention, he almost took you right there when you gave him those doe, shy eyes.

“I know you’re impatient, sweet girl, but daddy will make it worth the wait”, he thinks you deserve more that a stolen moment in the midst of the chaos, of a working day, and he knows you want him to be rough, to be hard on you. “let daddy take you out to dinner tonight, and then you can give this old man some sugar, mmh?”

you can only nod, words stuck in your throat unable to come out, but your eyes gleam in the softest and most innocent way, you don’t know if you want to drop to your knees, and beg him to do whatever he wanted, or to grab your piece of cake back and hide behind the counter.

bunnies were shy creatures, eager for affection, love and attention but timid when under their owners’ loving gaze. If you weren’t careful, they might just hop away and hide shyly.

..but a little bunny like you needs to be trained into being the perfect, sweetest good girl first. And he is a man of discipline, he knows how to wait.

[dumbbitchgalore]

Old Man!Price has a thing for pretty little things.

He'd be the type of soldier to randomly pick up a dandelion or random weed flowers, inspecting it closely before crushing it in his calloused palm as if he was not admiring it a moment ago.

And you're no exception.

Pretty and perfect. An invitation for corruption as if you're begging to be ruined, shown no mercy and totally under his control. You're perfect for it, almost too perfect as if reality is playing a cruel trick on him by putting you into his arms. It was too easy, very easy but John doesn’t complain. He knows better than to fuck up a good thing by overthinking. 

John holds your nose closed, stopping you from breathing for a moment. He tsks you at your feeble attempt to take his whole length and currently you are paying the price. Eyes glaciated with struggle, slobbering down his length, your drool dripping onto your tits- a perfect display of submission, compliance. 

“I told you you couldn’t take me all the way but you just had to argue with me, didn’t you?” John says, his voice dark and glazed with authority. 

You let out a pathetic, muffled whimper, your gaze filled with apology and regret. He lets go of your nose allowing you to get a breath of air as you pull away from his cock breathing heavily and babbling a series of ‘I’m sorry’s’. 

John sighs as tears roll down your flushed cheeks.

“I’ll give you one more chance, dollface. Open wide.” 

You part your lips hesitantly, scared of disappointing him. John pushes his leaking cock past your lips, your tongue instinctively darting out to lick the tip, gathering his pre-cum as you savour the taste of his salty goodness. A soft moan of satisfaction leaves your mouth as you try your best to take him fully. 

John shudders, groaning, his eyes screwed shut. Damn it, he didn’t want you to do that, he was gonna end up cumming and at his age, there was no way he could be ready for another around straight after. 

He grips the armrest trying to think of anything else other than his pretty babe sucking his cock so bloody well. 

Ponies… Beer… Shit- No, beer makes me horny… the SAS… military life… my birdie sending me a boudoir album on our first anniversary when I was away- Lake… Lake house… Holiday… Birdie in lingerie… pretty boobs, soft, warm… Wait, no- Ah, fuck…

He gives up as he feels the impending coil about to snap. Grabbing the back of your head, he shoves his whole length in not caring about your comfort. Your nose nuzzles against his dark bush, musky scent engulfing you. John cums, cums so hard that it makes you gag and spill out of your mouth. 

You pull away panting, swallowing what remains of him. Looking up at him, you raise an eyebrow at the sudden loss of John’s control. He laid back, spent and heaving with his arm covering his eyes. 

“Let's go to a lake house, Birdie.”

[elysianightsss]

No because girl you NEEDDDDDD to elaborate on this -> Soulmate AU. Poly!141 x neurodivergent!reader <- I will die happily

Elaboratingggggggg🤭🫠

-

You didn’t think that you’d get this far in life, many reasons spring to mind but the main one is you’re a little different than most people. You can’t cope with certain things and struggle with change. You remember growing up your family would brush off your ‘issues’ and say to just deal with it. How little they understood you.

Moving out was the best decision you ever made, the only change you have ever been happy about. It was necessary and would make your life so much easier on a level only you could understand. You could set up your space the way you like it, the way you need it. And with just you, no one would mess with your stuff just to see you loose it as it was ‘funny’ or move things to suit them better.

This way, you could live in peace.

Task force 141 had just finished a successful mission, camping out in one of the many secret safe houses as they waited for further instructions when they had sent Johnny to the shop for supplies. That’s where he saw you, in a Sainsbury’s supermarket of all places, headphones tight over your ears to block out the world while you tried to decide if the extra two, ninety-nine was worth it or not for the soothing lavender face mask you wanted.

Johnny was quick to subtly snap a picture of you and even go as far as to follow you home before bolting it back to the guys to tell them he’d finally found you. Their last soulmate.

As soon as Johnny showed them the image of you, that was it for them. They had to have you. A burning need coursing through their veins, pumping around their bodies. Nothing would ever be enough until they had you in their arms.

But as said and as they observed themselves, you don’t cope with change.

So they had to situate themselves into your life slowly, one by one.

Johnny and Simon moved in next door to you, and lived there for seven months slowly getting to know you and obviously spying on you. They gradually began to understand you and your cute quirks. They know that you eat the same thing for dinner every night, you use the same plate or bowl and wash it straight after use to make sure it is ready for next time.

You have one set of cutlery, one glass and one mug. Two pillows though you only sleep on one and use the other to hug to sleep. And to top it all off you have one recliner chair and one massive beanbag chair that makes you feel like you’re being hugged tight each time you sit on it. It gives you the deep pressure therapy you desperately need at times.

The guys found your habits strange at first but the more time they spent with you, the more they began to understand you. Understand your need for order, for repetition. And they had experienced first hand what happens when change was forced into your safe space.

Johnny had the bright idea to gift you a set of cutlery a few weeks ago so when he and Simon came round for dinner as they did every Thursday for the past four months, they didn’t have to bring cutlery and plates from their own place, it would already be there.

Simon said it was a bad idea but he couldn’t say no to Johnny, not with how happy he looked while he picked out some pretty baby blue plates and silver cutlery with little mushrooms painted at the end. He boasted to Simon about how much you’d love them while they stood in the queue to pay.

He was wrong.

After dinner was cooked you plated up the food no problem thinking the pretty plates were from their house. Then you opened the kitchen drawer only to hear the clutter and smash of cutlery rubbing together. The sound made a ringing pierce your ears, your hands reaching up to cover them. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you. The sound you heard making you panic beyond measure, your breathing out of control as you slid to your knees.

Johnny’s smile dropped and he sprung into action using the deep pressure therapy you had told him about with your beanbag chair. Simon was quick to removed the extra plates and cutlery from where Johnny had put them and take them back to their place before returning ready to help. He knew he’d need to call John and let him know you had had an episode, but helping you came first.

So you liked constant repetition. If it made you happy, that was absolutely fine with them.

Kyle got himself hired as a barista at your favourite cafe, he learned your usual and practiced at home to make sure every morning when you stopped by on the way to work to drink your coffee and sit with your laptop for twenty minutes, you’d have the perfect drink. He made absolutely sure that it tasted the same every single time. No change.

After a couple of months of smiles and waves here and there he finally got you to open up. Baby steps. A little at a time and now Kyle was taking his twenty minute break at your table while you typed up something for work. You always worked so hard. But he managed to get a few sentences out of you each time and it made his heart sing.

And last but not least, John became your new boss after your last one mysteriously got caught for money laundering. Mr Price was an amazing boss, he didn’t ask for much and was always giving you big opportunities that you’d only ever dreamed of. You had been promoted twice since he became the CEO.

You were now executive editor under him as the chief editor at one of the best publishers in the country. Pirons Classics, number two in the UK and number four in the World. To say the guys were proud that you worked there in the first place was an understatement. Their smart girl.

He called you sweet nicknames and brought you lunch everyday. The same thing, a pesto and cheese sandwich and a snack of your choosing from the vending machines. You don’t remember when it started but you were always too shy to say anything so it became a regular thing.

If you were to sit and think real hard about the situation you would realise how changes had been introduced into your life ever since the four of them appeared. But they were subtle changes and you genuinely couldn’t remember a time when these changes weren’t normal. On top of that, these four men were the only people besides yourself, that you felt comfortable, relaxed and content around.

So for the first time you don’t sit and think, for the first time you just let it happen and you don’t notice the difference.

Johnny and Simon were more involved with you than the other two. They were the closest to you currently with the status of your best friends which Johnny most certainly bragged to the other two about. You had known them for almost a year now and they didn’t exactly hide their romantic relationship but didn’t exactly flaunt it either.

You had found it kinda hot when you saw them kiss and even though it was unusual for you, you luckily managed to keep your mouth shut about it.

You had no idea they had noticed.

[yawnderu]

Captain's Wife - John Price & TF141 x Reader

work starting to feel like I do belong in the kitchen 💀so here's some Price domestic stuff to keep me going until Friday so I don't lose my mind.

Content: small drabbles, fluff, domestic!Price, vouyerism, John ''I share my wife'' Price, TF141 x reader.

I actually think about being Price's housewife quite a lot. Being a cute little thing he has waiting for him back at home, a domestic life for the first time ever, something he never even thought was possible.

He bought big house in the British countryside, just to make sure you're free from all the stress city life brings. Any hobbies you may have he fully supports and funds, giving you extra spending money on the side despite knowing you don't usually spend it, having all your needs and interests taken care of by him.

This man spoils you rotten without you even asking, having savings for years before he even met you and a good salary as a captain in the SAS. Anything you even glance at when you're out with him at the mall? Bought for you with no hesitation at all. Jewelry, clothes, lingerie; you don't lack any of those things when you're with him.

Any affection you miss while he's deployed is given to you once he's back, his fat cock filling you up in different positions, despite how tired he might be, he always has the energy to fuck his darling wife good. He always puts your pleasure first, making you cum with his fingers and tongue before he even thinks about putting his dick inside. His efforts don't come without rewards, of course, and it has become one of his favorite things to see you down on your knees, praising his thick cock and heavy falls, praising him.

Being a Captain comes with sharing many things with his boys- from gear, to his wife. The first time you're introduced to the boys, the thought of straying doesn't even cross your mind, fully loyal to your husband and simply happy to meet the boys he considers his family. It isn't until Price has you sitting on his lap with your legs wide open, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you in front of the younger men that the thought of having someone other than him hits your brain.

John doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on the younger men. Soap shamelessly has his dick out, stroking up and down slowly, basking in on the sight of his captain fingering your soaking cunt. Gaz is more subtle about it, though eventually he can't ignore his boner, pulling out the prettiest dick you've ever seen and stroking it with more enthusiasm than the others, free hand massaging his heavy balls, begging for release.

Ghost is the one who takes the longest to give into it, ignoring his painful boner being strained by his jeans up until John is fucking you. The sight of your attractive body bouncing on his captain's cock is too much for him, legs spreading wider on the couch to adjust his boner until his hand hesitantly starts to rub his length over his clothes, shamelessly thinking it's him the one fucking you.

And that fantasy becomes a reality soon enough, once you're fucked-out and your cunt is ready to take more, nice and wet for the men he trusts the most. He has rules for it, of course. They can't fuck you without a condom, anything you feel uncomfortable with is off limits, and if you show any signs of discomfort, they have to stop. Soap only whined about not being able to fuck you raw, earning him a look that got him to shut up immediately.

Gaz is a gentle lover despite how excited he was, eating your cunt out nice and slow, plump lips latching onto your clit while your hand gently pushes the back of his head closer, a teasing ''patience, love.'' escaping his lips as he lines up the tip of his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in and giving you time to adjust to his thickness before he's fucking into you slowly, making sure every thrust hits deep inside you. He switches positions a few times, settling in for the one that makes you moan louder, hands holding onto your hips as he fucks into you from behind.

Johnny is more eager, more... youthful, just happy to be able to fuck you. He'd never admit it, but he's had his eye on you ever since he first met you, wishing he was as lucky as his captain. He eats you out for the longest, messily sucking and licking all over your cunt, lips latching onto your clit, tongue swirling over it, your moans encouraging him to go for longer even when his tongue is tired. He's on his knees in front of the bed, one of his hands busy jerking himself off and stopping right when he's about to cum just by tasting you. H's not enthusiastic about putting a condom on, though he quickly forgets about his annoyance once he's balls deep inside you, hands holding onto your waist as he fucks into you, fast and deep.

Ghost is the only one who doesn't eat you out yet, being slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing and about being watched. John knows Ghost ever since he was Simon, so he tells the boys to go clean up while he too leaves the room, making sure to be within earshot in case anything happens, despite knowing he can trust Simon with his life. He makes up for it by fingering your cunt, long digits sinking into it slowly, brown eyes fully focusing on your expression to make sure you're enjoying every second of it. It takes a while before he fucks you, condom rolling down his thick length and making sure you're all nice and wet before hesitantly pushing in, holding you in a nice missionary while he thrusts in and out, his massive body caging you in and making you feel safe. The mask goes up halfway, giving you sloppy, inexperienced kisses as a reward for taking him so well. Simon is a talker when he's close, face seeking shelter into the crook of your neck as he praises you for being so good for him, for taking his cock so well and making him feel good.

Once the boys are gone, Price runs a bath for you, asking you if you enjoyed yourself and if you'd be interested on doing that again in the future. He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, warm hands washing your body with love and care, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms even when you're in the bathtub. He dries your body and puts you to bed after changing the sheets, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

[omegapropaganda]

[lokidbadguy]

STALKER CODED!