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ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago

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price x reader where reader is stranded at a cabin in the woods? 👀

1k game here - no more please!

first price drabble for this challenge without a single mom reader. i'll hold for applause

1.8k of hermit in the forest price x escaped convict reader (no smut!)

At first you don't think the cabin is real.

You see it after days of wandering through the forest - days of barely any sleep, terrified you'll wake up to a bear or a wolf or some other beast, stomach aching and feet bleeding, the picturesque cabin seems too good to be true.

It's straight out of a picture book. Right on the bank of a river, made of wood with a stone foundation, a nice porch, a working fireplace judging by the smoke coming out from the chimney...

There's just no way it's real.

You know there's someone home - either that or the house is burning from the inside - but the first sign of shelter in days blinds you from the dangers, and you stumble right up to the door.

It's unlocked.

You don't walk in at first. You're standing at the entrance, wood under your bare feet and palm, and it still doesn't feel real that a place this perfect appeared out of nowhere.

It's homey inside, an open concept so that even from the front door you can see the bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room. Just one big room with areas sectioned off - the kitchen on the left, the living room on the right, the bedroom at the back.

It's also empty. Which means it's far too good to be true.

Still, you can't turn your nose up at such a blessing right now. Hell, you'd sleep in a cave if it meant having even a scrap of cover. So you stumble into the cabin, blood and dirt leaving clear footprints on the floor. The door swings closed behind you, and you can't help but jump when it slams.

You force yourself to take a deep breath. You can't afford to be so jumpy when you'll have to face the cabin's owner before safely sleeping. There's no one in the main cabin, but you highly doubt the owner lit a fire before going out on a walk. If you had to bet, you'd say they're behind the closed door near the bed.

You've been running on adrenaline ever since you escaped, and it's what keeps you steady now. You try to be as silent as possible while digging through the kitchen, looking for.... bam.

A block of knives, and a dirty frying pan on the stove. The owner must've had scrambled eggs that morning, but the pan will still work.

You pick the biggest knife in the block and twirl it in your hand, heartbeat picking up. You hold the frying pan in your dominant hand since it's heavier, and the knife gets tucked into the front of your pants so you can grab it quickly.

You try to walk on your tiptoes as you make your way to the back of the cabin, then realize that it hurts far too much and hobble slowly instead. You settle yourself beside the bathroom door, holding the pan in the air while you wait.

It takes longer than you'd expected for the owner to come out. There's no clock in the cabin, and you're too strung-out to count, but you'd bet it's no less than five minutes before the door finally opens.

You jerk back to standing up straight from where you'd subconsciously fallen against the wall, and move before you're even really thinking. You swing the frying pan with both hands, ready to hit whoever's coming out of the room with full force.

Your first miscalculation is immediately obvious - the person coming out of the bathroom is far taller than you. Instead of swinging towards his face of neck, you're about to hit him squarely in the chest. Much less likely to knock him out.

Your second miscalculation is the one that actually gets you into trouble - your victim stops you before you can hit him.

You see what happens almost like an out-of-body experience, everything moving too quickly for your stressed mind to keep up with. You know that he shoves you by the shoulder closest to him, sending you reeling and eventually falling before the pan can ever meet it's mark.

You squawk as you stumble to the floor, frying pan going flying and knife nearly stabbing you in the gut.

"What the fuck?" The cabin owner says, voice low and shocked.

You're about to dart up and away when a heavy foot lands on your chest, leaning down with just enough pressure to keep your exhausted body pinned to the floor. You trace the ankle up to the man, glaring at him.

He's- well, he's wearing nothing but his birthday suit. Dripping water and completely naked, you're taken off guard again by the figure above you. Past the nakedness, you notice he's big - probably at least a full head taller than you, with a large frame to boot. Standing above you like he is, he looks like a giant.

He's got thick brown hair that's cut close to the head, a far bushier beard that nearly covers his mouth. He's well-muscled but with a layer of fat on his torso, giving him a barrel-chested look. He's furry, too, varying amounts of hair covering every part of him you can see - which is nearly every part.

"What the fuck," he repeats, droplets of water falling onto your face when he leans over you. "Who the fuck are you? What the fuck are you doing in my house?"

You scowl up at him, clawing at his ankles. Your nails don't do much since you've bitten them until they bled, but you try to dig them in anyway. "Get the off of me."

He blinks down at you for a moment, clearly bewildered. "No. I'll ask you again - why are you in my house?"

You try to use your feet as leverage, then when that fails you do your best to try and kick his legs out from under him. You snarl when you remain firmly pinned by just a foot.

His ankle shifts back a little to put more pressure on your stomach, and you're reminded of the knife. Of course.

Before he can try and ask anymore idiotic questions, you pull the knife out from your pants and try to stab him in the calf.

Again his reflexes save him and he flies off of you, leaving you free to scramble onto sore feet and bare your teeth, brandishing the knife in front of you.

"Aha!" You exclaim, somewhat delirious. "Not so brave now, huh tough guy?"

He wears the perfect mix of unamused and amused both, like he doesn't appreciate what you're doing but he is willing to laugh at you. The expression makes you snarl, draws your hackles up even more.

"Here's what's gonna happen," you start, shifting to what you hope is a more defensive stance. "You're going to give me all your non-perishable food, a pair of shoes, and a map, and nobody gets hurt."

There - that's a good list of demands right? It's regrettable that you won't be able to stay the night, but that was only ever going to be possible if you managed to kill the man, and it's very clear that you'll never pull that off in your current state. The best you can hope for is food and a way out of the damn forest.

He doesn't seem to think so, cocking an eyebrow. "That so?"

You scowl. "Yes. Or I'm going to stab you."

His mouth twitches. "You're gonna stab me? You?"

"What, are you deaf? You heard me the first time."

"Just checking." His tone is almost teasing, which only makes you angrier. The only thing keeping you on your feet at this point is anger and adrenaline, so you welcome the emotion with open arms.

You jerk forward suddenly, making like you'll stab him in the chest but not quite getting within arms reach of him. He doesn't flinch.

Your scowl deepens. "You stupid, then? I really will stab you, don't think I won't!"

He shifts his weight and you flinch, then scold yourself when his smile grows. "Oh, I believe you. But I'm not givin' you my food or my shoes, so I suppose you've got a decision to make."

Oh, there's no decision to be made. You don't even really think when you dart towards him, arm raised high to try and stab him in the heart.

The weapon is knocked out of your hand before you even get close, your body turned and forced chest-first into the wall as the knife clatters to the ground beside you.

The man is heavy at your back, leaning his naked chest against you and forcing your dominant arm behind your back. You fist your free hand against the wall, gritting your teeth against the pain.

"That all you got, kitten?"

You snarl, thrash desperately against his hold and bite back a whimper at the twinge in your shoulder when he doesn't even twitch. "What the fuck did you call me?"

"Kitten," he repeats, amusement audible in his tone. "'S what you're acting like, hissing and spitting. But you're harmless, aren't ya?"

No, you're not. You're an escaped convict who was locked up for first degree murder. You're the furthest thing from harmless in this whole goddamn forest.

"Not a fucking cat," you growl, craning your head over your shoulder to glare up at him. "I'm gonna kill you and rob you blind, old man, you have no idea what's comin'."

To your immense frustration, he almost looks excited, pressing closer to your body and leaning so you two are face-to-face. His hips push against the small of your back, and to your horror you feel that he's hard against you.

"Yeah?" He grins down at you, smile a little sharp. "Think this old man can't handle one little brat? Oh, sweetheart, I think you and I are gonna have plenty of fun together."

As you consider the merits of spitting in his face, you think to yourself that this man cannot possibly have the same definition of fun as you. He's got another thing coming if he thinks he's going to be able to keep you beneath his heel - you'll raze the old man's cabin to the ground with him in it if you have to.

He must see some of that fire in your eyes - either that or he sees the way you work your jaw to gather more spit - because he pulls away from your face, going back to hovering behind you.

His hold doesn't change, but his free hand shifts down and gives you a sharp tap on the ass. You hiss and squirm away, blushing indignantly.

He laughs again, then rests his chin on the crown of your head. "Oh, yes, I think you'll be quite amusing. It's been a while since I've had a pet project, kind of you to just drop yourself in my lap like this. I think you'll take quite a bit of work, won't you?"

You grit your jaw as you rest your forehead against the wall and make a silent promise to yourself that you'll make this man's life hell.

#1k celebration #john price x reader #price x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #bo writes #john price

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sovereign-skyy · 1 year ago

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Since it's a new day and I owe you a new ask, I'll reply here:

Sl, M wii xli xvmgo livi! Epvmklxb, qb xyvr! Xlmw xmqi, oiitmrk +mxl xli ewwewwmrexmsr sj Geiwev, xlmw sri +mpp jspps+ xli Mhiw sj Qevgl, mr xli hmvigxmsr bsy wix. Pazbndv+t zr fa fur eg+ n+q fur aprn+? Uai cgvpxyk V orpnzr kagd iuayr iadyq~ Vs funf'e iunf kag iveu, fur+ pazr n+q yrf zr rzodnpr kag n+q eirrb kag nink yvxr fur fvqr.

(Hopefully I didn't mess up the clue and/or the message.)

A slightly longer one in return this time, I had a lot to say

V zgef nqzvf V purnfrq n yvffyr a+ fuve a+r, V sag+q n ya+r pnbvfny H n+q x+ri fa fgd+ vf v+fa n+ V. V'yy unhr fa fnxr funf v+fa pa+evqrdnfva+ sad sgfgdr zreentre. Funf envq, V qa efvyy snvy fa err uai sagdfrr+ (ad sagdfk a+r) ine fur paddrpf euvsf furdr, fur Vqre as Zndpu ve a+ n svsfrr+fu, appgddrq v+ sagdfk sagd OPR a+ fur erhr+fk sagdfu qnk as fur Dazn+ pnyr+qnd, +a+r as iuvpu ndr sayyairq ok rvfurd as fuaer. V nyea qvq +af sv+q n+k yrtvoyr n+eird nf evjfrr+, sagdfk svhr ad erhr+fk evj. V qvq +afvpr funf fur Vqre as zaef za+fue snyye a+ fur fuvdfrr+fu, ea brdunbe n+ rddad as vddrtgyndvfk a+ kagd bndf? Ad brdunbe V zveerq eazr vzbadfn+f qrfnvy. Kag'yy unhr fa fryy zr v+ kagd +rjf paddreba+qr+pr.

V+ n+k pner, V ivyy euvsf nink sdaz agd qrnd Wgyvge n+q zahr, xrrbv+t qvdrpfva+, fa fur qrefdgpfva+ as n+afurd sryyai: Uryvae, n drny Ia+qrd fa nyy fur iadyq. N tdn+q sryyai faa, n fdgr payaeege, a+r zvtuf enk. +af cgvfr ugzn+ fuagtu, enqyk. Taaq ygpx! V znqr egdr +af fa v+pygqr n+k ya+r V'e!

Ey je bvj oek trhho cv jyhekxy iyrhf mzdui rdu jheksbvu mrlvi, bvru cv kduvh iyzfi jyrj iazc oekh ikhwrtv. Rdu zd hvjkhd je xzlv je oek jyv fbvrikhvi ew jyv czdu rdu sbzii ew jyv wbviy. Je sv r heta je skhij rxrzdij rdu svrty je mrhc rj yzxyvij deed.

Oekh vcshrtv zi hzlrbbvu edbo so jyv jekty ew jyv ijrhi jyvcivblvi, skj jyvzh uzijrdtv bvrlvi cv ovrhdzdx myvhv oekh rhci rhv irwv rhekdu cv.

Bvj cv zdyrszj oekh mehbu, wvrij ed oekh whkzj rdu irlekh zji imvvjdvii. Bvj cv uhzda whec oekh uvbztzeki irbjo dvtjrh rdu fhelzuv oek mzjy co emd. Bvj cv srjyv zd oekh uvm rdu zji jrijv ed co bzfi.

Jyvd, zd svteczdx edv mzjy oek, fvrtv mzbb ikhvbo wzdu cv.

#ask joanne

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