#mw2 price

[starsofang]

Tow-truck driver!Price who you call in the dead of night when your car breaks down. You’re lost, stuck in the middle of a long road trip to visit your family with hours left of your trip, scared and alone.

Tow-truck driver!Price who reassures you on the phone, listening to your hysterics, talking gently as he tells you he’s on the way and he’ll be there as soon as he can. It’s the first time you’ve broken down and needed your car towed, but Price was shockingly sweet when comforting you.

Tow-truck driver!Price who shows up just as he said, and you’re surprised he’s not old or ugly like you expected. In fact, he’s handsome, clad in an old work shirt that hugs his burly frame, jeans that shape an ass even you’re jealous of, and beat up boots to top it off.

Tow-truck driver!Price who greets you with a kind smile, aged crow’s feet crinkling in the corners of his eyes, teeth barely hidden from his facial hair. And, oh, his voice is nice. Gravelly yet soothing. It instantly puts your nerves to rest, and you watch him load your car up with a much lighter heart.

Tow-truck driver!Price who offers you a ride to your destination. You say no, you couldn’t possibly ask him for that. You were still a few hours from home, surely you can call a cab. But Price refuses to leave you alone in the middle of the night. A pretty bird, out ‘ere all alone? C’mon, I’ll take ya.

Tow-truck driver!Price who you end up in his truck with. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and the entire time while he drives, the banter is consistent. The two of you fall into conversation the whole way, him smiling and you giggling. He’s sweet, almost too sweet, but you find yourself more into him than you should be for a stranger you just met.

Tow-truck driver!Price who watches your face crumble when your destination comes close and you realize you don’t have the money for the ride like you thought you did. Price is willing to negotiate, though. He’s a nice man, especially to pretty birds. Of course he’ll help you out. That’s okay, sweetheart. You can put that pretty mouth to good use instead, hm? Won’t charge ya a dime.

Tow-truck driver!Price who pulls off to the side of the road, cock nestled in the back of your throat, head thrown back against the seat. His large hand firm on the back of your head, forcing you to take it all. And oh, you’re doing so good for him. Taking it all like a good girl. He might just have to keep you when you come back from your family visit.

Tow-truck driver!Price who’s greedy, even after shooting ropes of cum down your throat only minutes before. He has you perched on top of his lap from his seat on the driver’s side, hands digging into the plush flesh of your ass to bounce you on his cock, smacking it harshly every time it sets off the horn by accident. What a sight you are, too. Moaning like a bitch in heat, so desperate for his cock that you’re practically drooling for it.

Tow-truck driver!Price who has you dazed and content in the passenger seat afterwards, finishing the trip to your family’s as promised. You didn’t think he was going to dump you off and let you walk the rest of the way, did you? No, he’s a gentleman. Besides, he’s already decided in his head that you’re his now.

Tow-truck driver!Price who drops you off, walking you to the door like the man he is, before heading on the long journey back. He saves your number in his phone, only texting you when he’s finally home. You didn’t think that was the last time I’d see you, did you? Let me take you out to dinner, sweetheart. My treat. And who are you to deny him after he treated you so well?

[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.

[ramonathinks]

favorite girl | john price

cw: mdni, 18+, smut, mild angst. note: [listen to tantrums by normani for the full effect]

you're unbelievably drunk. whining for an ex boyfriend who you couldn’t believe broke up with you. but even worst is that you're horny. nobody has even been able to get you off like he has and you can't help but to think of him.

so with wobbly knees and a quivering voice you call him. you know he's probably in his penthouse with a cold beer in his hand not wanting to be bothered but yet...

“i didn't think you'd answer.”

“i'd always answer for you.” he still sounds the same, still talks like you're his and it just makes you angry. “it's pretty late.” you knew him, so you knew he was glancing at his rolex.

“’m sorry, are you tired?” the world is spinning and you're giggling.

you hear some rustling. “need me to come get you? send a car for you?”

“mhm. maybe.” you think. “no... i don't wanna see you. you broke my heart...old man.”

“listen, kid... it's better you're serious about somebody you're own age —” john started.

you sniffle, it's the speech all over again. “just forget i called. lose my number.”

you hang up and it's fast. but all you can think about is when everything was right.

of course things were different and crazy. he was in his mid 40's and you were barely 25. but it wasn't weird until he made it weird.

but before that, it was always just late night calls, and soft sex. you on your knees for him and keeping him in your mouth, even when he was soft but fuck did he love your young throat. always so tight, it felt like he was fucking your pussy all over again.

he loved the clothes you wore and how easy they were to get off, he would tease you and fuck you in his office chair.

he didn't seem that old until he took you to places that nobody your age would be interested in. it didn’t matter though. you even loved his taste in music.

you loved how he still knew how to work his phone and wasn't like those other old people who couldn't send a picture.

on his long business trips when you were too lazy to come with him, he'd send you videos tapping his cock against the screen and you were always surprised by just how hard he could get.

he didn't move young. especially on the dance floor. he taught you to waltz and got you a ball gown that made your skin glow.

he didn't move young when he'd throw you up against the wall and fuck you against all the walls in his house.

“you're so fucking good at taking me.” he'd whisper in your hair after slapping your ass.

and when he took you to his vacation house you thought it meant something. when he told you this was his favorite house.

taking his favorite girl to his favorite house.

sitting you on the marble counter and thrusting inside of you. squeezing and milking him with a chuckle, “i think i love you.”

it made him stop in his tracks. and suddenly you could see his grey hairs clearly.

he couldn't break up with you there nor could he do it to your face.

it took a few weeks before he did it. saying nonsense about how he was too old.

all you could do is cry.

and even though he sent a car for you, you couldn't dare to get inside and to smell his cologne all over. yet the driver continued to follow you… making sure you got home safely.

no part 2.

[ilovelosermen69]

Girls when they see a man in uniform

[yawnderu]

GUYS GUYS GUYS. John Price.

[diejager]

Sparrow

Pairing : Task Force 141 x Vampire!reader

Cw: blood, vampire, death.

Wc: 947

Price watched everyone board the helicopter in a steady shuffle, he counted the names when they passed him as if taking their attendance to assure that everyone followed him. Ghost, Roach, Soap, and Gaz- he gaped at the missing soldier, he was sure you'd been behind them this whole time, eyes scouring the darkness for you. He turned to the others for information, frowning when they all said that they hadn't seen you.

"Sparrow, what's your status?"

Thumb still pressed into his radio, he waited for your reply. When all he received was silence from you, he asked a second time: "Sparrow, how copy?"

There was only complete silence on your end. That worried them, but they knew you wouldn't go doing so easily; you'd told them once that you would bomb everything before dying - if you could, from regular bullets or knives.

"Sparrow," Ghost growled out, his deep, rumbling order echoed through the shared line.

It was quiet at first, but then the sound of muffled screams and slurping came through. Their tense shoulders slouched, finally knowing where you went: to quench your hunger.

You left the line open, letting the team listen to the pained moans of the soldier that crossed your path. A thud followed afterward when you stopped drinking, the bloodless body falling forward.

They waited at the end of the clearing, seated in the helicopter as they strained their ears to listen to your near-silent steps. They could see you before they heard you, piercing, red eyes glowing in the dark foliage as you approached them. The sight flooded them with relief, seeing you wipe your blood-soaked face and pull your mask over your nose to hide the gory view of your sharp fangs painted in red.

"Sorry," you bowed, voice raspy and quiet from the ecstasy of drinking blood - delicious or disgusting, blood worked the same way it did either way.

"'S fine, Sparrow," Price mumbled, motioning you to sit next to him, the last seat on the aircraft.

Silence lingered in the shared space as Nikolai pulled into the sky, the blades ripping through the air loudly. The team watched your half-lidded eyes, blinking owlishly in some sort of trance. You were always dazed after feasting on someone, calm and slurring words as if high on blood. Your body took time absorbing and cycling the blood through your undead body, extracting the nourishing substances within a few weeks.

A satiated cat, that's how Soap first described you when you first fed on one of them, a hissy and skittish cat until it ate its full, satisfied, and sleepy. Soap was the first, finding your fangs deep into a man's neck. He stopped dead in his track, gaping at your red eyes and pointed teeth. He offered himself to you a few weeks later and quickly became addicted to the thrill of sharing an intimate part of himself.

Ghost caught them months later, finding you suckling on Soap's shoulder with a dazed look. The brooding man froze, unable to understand whatever he just saw; the shock and the unnatural spark of pleasure at your teeth breaking Soap's skin and laving up stray drops of blood. The image stayed in his mind, haunting him day in and day out until he found himself offering the same as Soap did. The danger and fear of having someone touch him made him hard, the slight sting of your teeth and your warm mouth around his wrist, shoulder, and neck - he almost begged for you to drink from his neck.

Gaz and Price stumbled on your feed on a mission, and have spent almost two months on infiltration and information gathering job for Shepherd, you got too hungry and snapped at the first straggler. Price, being who he is, shook off the confusion and helped you, making you promise to explain everything afterward. Gaz, however, somewhat gushed, a mix between confusion and amazement at your case. He, unlike the former, was more entertained with the idea of letting you feed on him for the experience.

Sweet Roach was the last one, you told him upfront about your little problem when you returned from your deployment with Gaz and Price. You signed it to him in your room, hanging from your bunk to tell him. He took it easily, perhaps too easily and calmly for someone whose roommate for the past year was a vampire. If you're ever hungry, I wouldn't mind helping you, Sparrow, he confessed, eyes glimmering with adoration and lips pulled in a small smile.

"How was it?" Soap pipped up, peering at you from the opposite side of the bird.

"Like shit," you grumbled, adjusting your rifle to sit more comfortably. "Fear and anger makes it taste bloody sour."

"You should've told us you were hungry, Sparrow, " Ghost growled lowly, he never liked letting you drink from other men or women other than their team. "Wouldn't have minded it." The last part was whispered, almost as if he was too shy to admit it.

"Don't be an arse about it, L.T., she was just hungry."

Ghost only grumbled lowly about how Soap wasn't any better. Gaz nudged your arm, telling you that he's free later if you're still hungry, knowing full well that you had your full. The little wink he gave told you everything, he just wanted to have you around him.

You sighed and turned to Price and Roach, tired from the night's event and the horrid taste that lingered on your tongue. I agree, Sparrow, his shoulders shook, head tilted towards the two bantering - more so of Soap annoying Ghost - men. None of us mind.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

It is my personal headcanon that Price is Simon's safe person, his anchor.

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

Loving Husband pt 2

Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 Trying for a baby

The beginning is a lil sad I'm sorry

Part 1 Part 3

It had been two months. Two months of trying, of hoping, of praying, and yet still no positive result. Each negative pregnancy test was a dagger to your heart, a cruel reminder of the unfairness of life. Despite your tears and sorrow, John remained steadfast in his support and love, comforting you in your moments of despair and promising you that they would eventually achieve their dream of starting a family together.

"We're gonna get there my love," he assured you one night after another failed attempt left you in floods of tears. "Just hang in there for me, okay? We're stronger together, remember?" His words were a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink of desolation and giving you the strength to keep fighting, to keep believing that someday they would succeed in bringing a child into their lives.

You wiped away your tears and took deep breaths, John saw you were trying to stay positive for him and for yourself. "I love you. So much" You managed to say through ragged breaths.

John watched as you struggled to regain control of yourself, wiping away your tears and taking deep, steadying breaths. He could see the effort it cost you, the battle you waged against your own despair, and it only made his admiration and love for you grow stronger. Seeing you try to stay positive for his sake touched him deeply, reminding him once again of why you were the love of his life.

"I love you too, baby," he said softly, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against his chest. "We'll make this happen...together." His words were a vow, a promise that they would not give up, that they would continue to fight and hope and pray until their dreams of becoming parents were realized.

John held you tight as you cried on his shoulder. You stayed like that for a long time, just crying and clinging onto him. But eventually you calmed down and looked up at John with teary eyes.

As you calmed down and looked up at him with tears still glistening in your eyes, John smiled softly and gently wiped away the last of your tears with his thumbs. His heart ached at the pain he saw etched across your features, but he knew that all he could do was be there for you, to support and love you through the difficult times. "You okay now, baby?" he asked gently, cupping her cheek in his palm and leaning in to press a tender kiss against her lips.

You nodded slowly and kissed John back, feeling yourself calm down even more at the feel of his lips against yours. "With you by my side.... I'll always be okay" You whispered.

John smiled warmly at your words, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. He knew that you were right; with you by his side, he could weather any storm, face any challenge, and overcome any obstacle. Together, they were strong enough to conquer anything, including their shared dream of starting a family.

"And with you by my side, I can accomplish anything," he replied softly, pulling you closer and resting his forehead against yours. "So let's keep fighting, yeah? Let's keep trying and hoping and praying...until we finally get our happy ending."

John pulled you close again, hugging you tight as you buried your face into his chest. Your heart beat steady against his ear as you breathed him in. A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about everything you had gone through together, all the ups and downs, the good times and bad. But despite it all, here you were, still together, still fighting, still loving each other.

Feeling you bury your face into his chest and hear the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his ear filled John with a profound sense of contentment and peace. He held you close, wrapping his arms around you and savouring the warmth of your body pressed against his own. As he felt the warm trickle of a tear against his skin, he knew that you were thinking about all they'd been through together, the trials and tribulations they'd faced, and the strength of their enduring love.*

"Hey," he murmured softly, tilting your chin up with a finger under your jawline. "No more tears, okay? We're strong...we can do this."

Feeling your soft lips against his own, John knew that you were pouring all of your love and affection into that single kiss. He returned your embrace passionately, his hands cradling your face as he lost himself in the taste and feel of you. The kiss was a testament to their enduring love, a symbol of their unbreakable bond and their unwavering determination to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

After breaking the kiss, you rested your head on John's chest again, listening to his heart beat. "Don't forget Soap's invited us for a BBQ this weekend" You reminded John.

At the mention of the barbecue, John chuckled softly, his hand stroking through your hair soothingly. "Yeah, I did forget about that didn't I?" He said, smiling. "Well, maybe it's a sign. Maybe we should go, have some fun, take our minds off things for a bit." His words were hopeful, filled with the belief that perhaps changing their environment might lead to a change in fortune.

You smiled up at John and nodded "Yeah, you're right. We need to take our mind off things. And besides, I'm sure Soap will have plenty of booze, we could use a few drinks." You giggled.

John grinned at your suggestion, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm. "You read my mind, sweetheart," he said, winking playfully. "A few drinks, some good food, and great company...sounds like just what we need."

"But first," he added, leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "How about we take a nice hot bath together? Soak away our troubles for a while..."

Your cheeks turned pink as John suggested a hot bath together. You giggled and playfully pushed him away. "Naughty boy! You're trying to seduce me when I'm supposed to be sad!" You teased him, he always knew how to cheer you up.

John laughed at your teasing, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. "When am I ever not trying to seduce you, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you back into his arms and nuzzling your neck.

"But you're right," he continued, his voice dropping to a low purr. "You are supposed to be sad. So how about this? I'll make you laugh, cry, scream...and then I'll make you scream some more. Deal?"

You giggled at John's proposal, running your fingers through his hair as you looked into his eyes. "Deal" You whispered, kissing him again before leading him towards the bathroom where you drew them both a hot bubble bath.

Following you into the bathroom, John couldn't help but admire your figure from behind. Your curves were enticing, your ass round and plump - a sight that never failed to stir his desires. His eyes locked onto you as you started drawing the bath.

"You know," he said, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "I think I've got a better idea..."

Before you could react, he bent you over the edge of the bathtub, spreading your legs wide apart. He then plunged to fingers into your tight cunt.

Caught off guard, you gasped as John's fingers entered you roughly. You gripped the edge of the tub tightly as he began to finger fuck you. You moaned loudly, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

Feeling your tight walls clench around his fingers, John groaned in pleasure, his cock throbbing with need. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside you.

"God, you're so wet," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "And you sound so fucking delicious..."

Your whole body trembled as John fingered you relentlessly. You reached down between your legs and began to rub your clit, amplifying your pleasure as you moaned and whimpered.

Hearing you moan and whimper, John felt his control slipping. His cock was painfully hard, begging for attention. Pulling his fingers out of you, he spun you around and pushed you against the wall next to the bathtub. He then lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, giving him easy access to your dripping cunt.

Caught by surprise, you let out a loud gasp as John thrust into you, filling you completely. Your legs quivered around his waist as he began to pound into you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clawed at him.

Feeling your nails dig into his shoulders, John groaned in pleasure, his hips slapping against yours as he pounded into you. His cock throbbed inside you, stretching her tight walls deliciously.

"Oh, fuck..." he muttered, his breath coming in short pants. "So fucking tight...so fucking perfect...my perfect wife."

Your eyes rolled back as John fucked you against the wall, your pussy clenching around his cock as you screamed out in pleasure. You reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him in for a rough kiss as you moaned into his mouth.

John eagerly accepted your kiss, his tongue duelling with yours as he continued to thrust into you, harder and faster. His hand roamed over your body, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples, and squeezing your ass.

"I love you," he managed to gasp between thrusts. "Always have, always will"

Your breath hitched as John continued to fuck you, your body shaking uncontrollably as you climaxed, screaming out in ecstasy. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, urging him on as you came.

Feeling your pussy tighten around his cock, John knew he wouldn't last much longer. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you with wild abandon as he neared his climax.

"Fuck...I'm gonna cum," he gasped out, his grip on your ass tightening. "Fill you up...my beautiful wife..."

"Please John" You gasped in between moans. "Fill me up....give me a baby" 

Hearing your plea, John grunted in response, his thrusts becoming even more frenzied. His cock twitched inside you, signalling his imminent release.

"Fuck...I hope so..." he panted, his body shuddering as he finally erupted inside you. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, his seed filling you up completely.

"Ahh...fuck!" he cried out, his grip on your ass tightening even further.

Your body convulsed as John emptied himself inside you, his hot cum filling you up. You kissed him passionately, your tongues wrestling as you rode out your orgasm together. John held you close, his hands caressing your back and ass as he slowly slid out of you.

"That was...incredible," he murmured, panting heavily. "But now we really should draw that bath"

You giggled as John pulled out of you and gently put you down, his cum leaking out of your still quivering pussy. You nodded and led him over to the bathtub, pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath. John got into the bath first, then you got in after. 

As you settled between his legs, John wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. He sighed contentedly, enjoying the warmth of the water and the feel of your soft skin against his own.

"This feels nice," he murmured, nuzzling your neck. "Just what we needed after all that excitement"

His hand moved down to her belly, gently rubbing circles there. "Hopefully we did manage to give ourselves a little surprise tonight..."

"I hope so" You smiled as you intertwined your fingers with John's. Admiring your wedding rings. 

John returned your smile, his gaze falling on their entwined fingers and the wedding rings adorning their fingers. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, feeling a surge of affection for you.

"These sure are a reminder of how lucky I am," he said softly. "To have found someone like you."

He leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "I love you, my dear wife."

You looked up at John and kissed him back, your lips lingering on his for a few seconds before you spoke. "And I love you, my dear husband."

John returned your kiss, deepening it slightly before breaking away with a soft chuckle. "Well, isn't that just the sweetest thing?" he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "My lovely wife, who can make even the toughest soldier melt with her words."

You blushed deeply at John's compliment, "You're just a big ol' softie when it comes to me." John chuckled softly, leaning in to press another kiss to your cheek.

"Guilty as charged," he admitted with a grin. "There's no denying it, sweetheart. But don't go spreading that around, okay? I've got an image to maintain." You laughed softly and shook your head, "I wouldn't dream of it, darling."

John grinned, leaning back against the edge of the tub as he pulled you closer to his chest. The warm water lapped against them, creating a soothing rhythm that seemed to match the steady beating of his heart.

"You know," he mused, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your stomach. "I think this might just be my favourite part of the day."

He chuckled softly, nuzzling your neck. "Not the sex - though that was pretty damn fantastic - but this. Just being here with you, relaxing and talking. It's perfect."

You smiled softly as John talked about his favourite part of the day, his fingers tracing patterns on your stomach. You closed your eyes and snuggled deeper into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Mine too."

John smiled, his heart swelling with happiness at your words. He tightened his hold on you, pulling you even closer if that were possible.

"And to think," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "we almost didn't get married. Can you imagine? All those missed moments...all these wonderful memories we could have missed out on."

You sighed softly and cuddled deeper into John's embrace, your fingers tangling with his as you gazed out at the stars twinkling in the night sky through the window. "I know. It's crazy to think about."

John nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the stars outside. A sense of gratitude and appreciation welled up within him, making his heart swell with emotion.

"But we did get married," he said softly, his voice thick with sentiment. "And for that, I'm truly grateful. Because without you, my life would be nothing more than a series of battles and losses. With you, it's a journey filled with love and laughter."

You smiled softly at John's heartfelt words, tears pricking at your eyes. You squeezed his hand and turned to look up at him. "And without you, I'd probably still be wandering aimlessly, trying to find some meaning in my life. With you, I've found not only love, but also purpose."

John's heart pounded in his chest as he listened to your words, his grip on your hand tightening instinctively. He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat as he fought to keep his emotions under control.

"I love you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "More than anything else in this world."

You stared at John for a moment, admiring him, "And I love you, more than anything. You're my whole life". You gave him a gentle kiss before you began washing yourself, once clean you started started getting out of the bath.

John watched as you began to stand from the bath, his gaze trailing appreciatively over your wet, glistening form. He couldn't help but admire your beauty, both inside and out.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, reaching out to pull you back down into his lap. "John" You laughed as he pulled you back into the bath.

John smirked, wrapping his arms around you again, holding you close. His lips brushed against your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

"I thought we had all night," he whispered huskily, his erection already stirring beneath the water once more. "No rushing off to bed just yet, Mrs. Price."

"Sorry Mr. Price" You smirked as you started grinding against his cock. John groaned as you ground against him, your movements sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He reached down, his hand sliding between your thighs to guide his length to her entrance.

"Not sorry enough," he muttered, thrusting up into you. His other hand moved to cup your breast, thumb rolling over her nipple teasingly.

You moaned softly as John thrust into you, his hand squeezing your breast as his thumb rolled over your sensitive nipple. You arched your back, pushing yourself further onto his cock.

John's breath hitched as you took him fully inside you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He held your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you rode him.

"That's it, sweetheart," he groaned, his free hand moving to stroke your clit. "Ride me...just like that."

You moaned louder as John stroked your clit, the sensation causing your pussy to clench around his cock. Your hips moved faster, grinding against his hand as you fucked him harder and faster. "Oh god, John" 

John grunted in response, his grip on your hip tightening as you picked up the pace. He could feel himself losing control, his climax building rapidly.

"Fuck, sweetheart..." He gasped, his thrusts becoming erratic. "I'm gonna...fuck, I'm gonna cum."

You smirked at John, you were feeling spontaneous tonight, you decided to take charge. You wrapped your hand around his throat. "Not yet baby" You slowed down your pace. "Not until I say so." 

John's eyes widened in surprise as you grabbed his throat, slowing down your movements. He groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more than to release himself. "Yes, ma'am," he rasped. "As you command, Mrs. Price."

You smirked at John's submission, you loved seeing him like this, needing you. "Good boy" You mumbled. You leaned forward letting your lips be dangerously close to his but not kissing him knowing it drives him insane.

John bit back a groan as you teased him, your lips tantalizingly close but not quite touching his own. He wanted to reach up and grab you, force you to kiss him, but he knew better than to defy his wife. "Oh fuck, sweetheart," he breathed, his cock twitching inside you. "This is torture."

You giggled at John's words, you liked having power over him. You leaned back and started riding him again, your hands resting on his shoulders for support. You started fucking him faster.

John let out a guttural growl as you resumed your passionate movements, his hands gripping your hips firmly. He could feel his climax approaching rapidly, every thrust driving him closer to the edge.

"Fuck..." *he gasped, his thrusts matching yours. "I'm gonna...oh fuck"

You slowed down your movements again. "Not yet Mr. Price" You smirked at John, you were enjoying torturing him. You leaned down and began kissing his neck, nipping it occasionally.

John groaned in frustration as you slowed down your movements once more, your teeth grazing his neck adding another layer of pleasure to the mix. He gripped her your tighter, desperate to maintain control.

"Sweetheart..." he warned, his voice strained. "I'm warning you...if you don't let me finish soon, I'll have to punish you later."

You smirked at John's threat, you loved the idea of being punished by him. You continued to ride him slowly, torturing him. "Is that a promise Mr. Price?"

John gritted his teeth, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave marks. He was teetering on the edge, his climax threatening to spill over any second now. "Yes, it's a fucking promise," he growled, his voice laced with desire and frustration. "Now stop teasing me and let me finish."

You laughed at John's words, you loved how much he needed you. "Oh so demanding" John groaned, his patience wearing thin. But despite his frustration, there was an undeniable thrill in submitting to your whims. "As your husband, I demand it," he said with a smirk. "But if you want me to beg, I will."

You smirked at John's words, you loved hearing him beg. You stopped riding him completely, leaving him hanging. "I would love nothing more than to hear my husband beg"

John let out a frustrated growl as you stopped moving entirely, leaving him hanging. His cock throbbed inside you, desperate for release. "Shit" he groaned, his voice strained. "Let me...please, sweetheart. I need to...oh God, I need to cum."

You smirked at John's begging, you loved hearing him plead for you to let him cum. You started riding him again, your movements slow and sensual. You cupped his face and ran your thumb over his bottom lip. "That's a good boy"

John let out a relieved sigh as you finally started moving again, your movements slow and sensual. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a low moan as your thumb grazed over his lip.

You smirked at John's reaction, you enjoyed making him squirm. You rode him for a few minutes before speeding up your pace, your hands running over his chest and stomach. "How's that Mr. Price?"

John groaned in pleasure as you sped up your pace, his hands reaching up to grip your hips tightly. He could feel his climax approaching rapidly, every thrust bringing him closer to the edge. "Fuck, yes," he gasped, his voice strained. "That's it, sweetheart...just like that."

You smirked at John's words, you loved hearing him praise you. You leaned down and kissed him passionately, your tongue exploring his mouth. You broke the kiss only when you felt John's cock pulsating inside you. "Cum for me baby"

You sped up the pace, your head falling back. "Oh fuck" You gasped. Your cunt clenching around John's cock, his fingers gripping into your waist hard enough to leave bruises. "John!" You cried as you fell forward.  John's entire body tensed as you urged him over the edge, his cock throbbing inside you. He could no longer hold back, his climax ripping through him with a force that left him gasping for air.

"Fuck, sweetheart," He groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he spilled himself deep within you. John laid beneath you, panting heavily as they both recovered from their intense orgasms. He could feel your hot breath against his skin, your kisses and gentle bites sending shivers down his spine.

You lifted yourself off John slightly, looking down at him. You had a satisfied smile on your face, your eyes sparkling with happiness. "Can't I get out of the bath now?" John chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her back down onto him.

"No, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice husky with satisfaction. "We're staying right here until the water cools."

[altbite]

Incorrect Quotes *mw2 x reader*

Alejandro: Rudy and I are having a baby.

Y/n: That's gre-

Alejandro, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here.

_

Price, driving y/n and Soap: So how was your day?

Y/n: We almost got surprise adopted!

Price: What?

Soap: We almost got kidnapped.

Price: Oh, okay.

Price: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

_

Ghost: Y/n... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Y/n: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned.

Ghost:

Ghost: I wrote sanitize, Y/n.

_

Y/n: *Stubs their toe* FUCK!

Rudy: Mind your language!

Y/n: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”???

Rudy:

Y/n: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

_

Y/n: Am I going too far?

Gaz: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

_

Soap: Truth or dare?

Y/n: Dare

Soap: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room

Y/n: Hey Graves

Graves, blushing: Yeah?

Y/n: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Alejandro

_

Y/n: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?

Gaz: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Ghost?

Ghost: Probably “road work ahead”.

Price: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

_

Price: Listen, I can explain...

Ghost: You’re making $500,000 and you’re only gonna pay me $30,000?

Soap: You’re getting 30 grand? I’m getting $1,000!

Y/N: You guys are getting paid?

_

Price: Just be yourself.

Y/n: 'Be myself'? Price, I have one day to win Alejandro over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me?

Gaz: Couple weeks

Soap: Six months.

Ghost: Jury’s still out.

Y/n: See, Price?

Y/n: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

_

Soap: Alejandro... How do I begin to explain Alejandro?

Rudy: Alejandro is flawless.

Ghost: I hear their hair's insured for $10,000.

Gaz: I hear they do car commercials... in Japan.

Y/n: One time they punched me in the face... it was awesome.

[starsofang]

i had to buy a new car battery this week…. so naturally it made me think of husband!price who would be there in an instant to fix whatever it is that’s causing you stress. didn’t matter if it was an issue he wasn’t familiar with.

if it was an issue with your car, needing an oil change or a new battery put in, he wouldn’t dare be the type of husband to let you go to the mechanic to spend an absurd about of money. there’s no use in you taking the car there when he can do it for you.

why spend a fortune when he’ll do it for you out of the love in his heart? what kind of husband would he be?

price is absolutely the type of husband to take on anything you need done simply because he wants to be your provider.

the faucet is broken? he’s on his hands and knees, inspecting the pipes. the old couch isn’t hitting the same and you want a new one? he’s taking you right to the store to pick out your favorite. ‘course he doesn’t need the instructions to build it, bug, he’ll take care of it.

your husband is your personal handyman, and he won’t have it any other way. it’s not out of the feeling of jealousy towards another man helping you, or feeling useless if he doesn’t know how to help. it’s not that at all!

price just wants to give you his all and be there for you in times of need, even over things that are easily fixable. he would never be able to live with himself if his lovely spouse couldn’t come to him with problems he can fix you with and earn a silly, little ‘thank you’ kiss for his hard work.

[konigsblog]

who is the best eating pussy :^(

best at eating pussy?? that's an easy answer... price.

perhaps it's because he's experienced and knows exactly how to please you, but good lord, he leaves you shocked every single time. it feels as if it's the first time he's eaten you out every time, with the pleasurable sensation burning inside of you leaving your pussy swollen and drooling.

your tasty and delicious juices coat his fluffy and scruffy beard, grinding your aroused pussy back and forth against his face while he flicks his tongue between your slit teasingly to rile you up. price isn't bothered about the positions, although he prefers having you seated comfortably on his face, allowing him to roll his pink tongue against your sensitive clit while holding you down against his mouth using his strong, burly arms. his beard reeks of your strong arousal afterwards and he wears the scent like cologne, almost too proud of himself.

price has his own special techniques. he'll bury his thick digits inside your warm sex and will grind his warm and wet tongue against your sensitive clit. he's addicted to the sounds you let out, so noisy and attention-deprived, earning yourself a slap to your thigh or rear and being told to hush, that you're being too loud.

he enjoys bending you over his table as well, semi-public sex where anyone could catch you guys.

[shkretart]

Captain Price again. Resting.

[eowynstwin]

disquiet comfort / neighbors

previous

On a cold winter's day in the early morning hours, you knock on your neighbor Captain John Price's door to make a noise complaint. - You give a sudden, high-pitched cry, one that abruptly cuts off. - ao3

John hears the creak of your bed springs the next morning.

He’s not surprised by it—you’re not the first neighbor he’s had, only the first he’s met. He knows how thin the walls are now, and has long passed the point of finding it annoying. He listens as the sound of your taps coming on filters through drywall and insulation at a low hum, thinks he can hear the buzz of an electric toothbrush. He wonders if you can hear his razor going as he trims his mustache.

It feels nice to have this odd company, he thinks. The two of you, going through the same motions. It strikes an old, abandoned chord—he hasn’t woken up with anyone in a long, long time.

He puts his razor down and squashes the thought flat. His neighbor—his kind, pretty neighbor—does not need him to think like that. Even if your eyes had traveled the length and breadth of his body before making it to his face.

He meets his own eyes in the mirror, giving himself a flat look. He isn’t used to civilian life. Answering the door shirtless had probably been some sort of faux pas. If you’d been looking, you’d probably been more disconcerted than anything else. That’s the long and short of it, he tells himself, because there’s no room for anything else.

John is never very good at being home. The things that keep him alive out there—hyperawareness, sharply defined mission parameters, strict operational regimens—are, at home, needs that go unmet. Liverpool is not a popular terrorist hotbed he needs to pay attention to. He isn’t going to die if he forgets to buy milk. And he can only go to the gym so often.

But he needs something to do, or he’s going to go crazy.

So today he does on leave what he dreams of in the field: he has his first of two showers for the day, makes himself breakfast in his own kitchen, and turns on the telly for the noise. It’s some dumb morning show, with too-clean hosts shilling for weird kitchen tools. Easy to ignore.

Inevitably, he thinks about Mexico. About Shepherd. About Chicago, and Hassan, and Laswell telling him he needs to get some goddamn rest before he kills himself trying to stop a war that isn’t even happening.

“Yet,” he’d ground out.

She’d just stared at him with dagger-sharp eyes and told him to go home.

John bites into his toast harder than a grown man told to take a fucking vacation should, and turns up the volume.

Three soft, polite taps sound on the wall.

John blinks. Remembers the previous morning, what he’d said to you. The remote is in his hand before he thinks about it, the mute button depressed beneath a quick thumb.

The quiet is like the end of a gunfight. Unsteady.

He waits. He doesn’t know what for. The silence stretches. He notices a shaft of sunlight coming through his window, little motes of dust dancing in the air, as he looks around his own flat for some reason. It’s habit—surveying a battlefield after it’s been passed over by violence.

He looks back to the space above the TV. Rises carefully from his seat. Goes over to the wall.

Raps his knuckles twice against it. All good?

Immediately there are two taps in response. Yes, thanks! And the break of the still silence is like a soap bubble popping. John breathes, and then realizes he hadn’t been.

There are no further knocks. It disappoints him, but he does not expect them. It’s just a friendly interaction between neighbors.

It doesn’t matter. It feels like something has unknotted in his chest.

He feels almost like a voyeur as the day goes on. He hears when you work in your kitchen, notes the muffled clang of a pan on the stove. He hears your dishwasher run later, and briefly wonders at the utility of using it for so few dishes.

You’re on the phone at one point, but he can’t make out the conversation. He only half-tries to, but the even the indistinct, low sound of your voice is comforting. It reminds him of late nights in the barracks, listening to bunk mates talk while trying not bother anyone else. The closest to domestic comfort John has really ever had.

You turn music on at one point, something soulful and a little moody. John thinks it might be Marvin Gaye, but he’s not sure. The urge to knock on your door and ask is a strong one, but he doesn’t think you need a lonely old soldier bothering you in the middle of your day. At least, not any more than he already has. And before he can figure it out for himself, he hears you exclaim “Oh, shit!” and the volume immediately drops.

He has to smile at that. It’s a rare luxury for him to experience these days, that kind of consideration.

Something in his chest gives a little jump when he hears two knocks on his wall again. Sorry, he thinks you’re saying.

He knocks twice back. All good.

He should not feel so invigorated by this exchange.

You leave the house a little after noon—he hears your door open and close, and the jingle of keys followed by footsteps quickly retreating. Then, your noise is gone.

John and silence do not go well together. Too quickly, the quiet closes in, and John thinks if he stays in his own home a minute longer he’ll suffocate from it—so he takes your cue, and leaves. He isn’t really sure what to do, but he has to do it anywhere else.

He gets home after you do, sore from the weight racks and full on pub food and a few pints. The sky is dark and the sidewalks are illuminated in yellow lamplight, and the air hums with the wind of cars driving in the distance. He sees your window lit up bright and warm, and the relief it fills him with is disproportionate to how anyone should feel knowing that their neighbor is home.

Where did you go during the day, he finds himself wondering? What are you making for dinner? What will you do once you’ve eaten?

John realizes he’s standing there staring at your window, and scowls at himself. He’s a fucking creep, that’s what he is. A pretty neighbor talks to him once, fucking welcomes him home like any nice person would, and suddenly he’s pining like a stupid little schoolboy.

He goes inside. Hears you in your kitchen again and convinces himself he’s ignoring it. Tries to find something to stay awake with. Has one cigar more than he’d planned for the day, and thinks at least he’ll get to go out and get more sooner—something to do with the wealth of time he didn’t ask to receive.

He’s already in bed, second shower finished, when he hears activity on the other side of the wall. He hadn’t really been falling asleep, but he’s wide awake now, and feeling like a pervert as he listens to your bath come on.

He hasn’t gone to bed with anyone in a long time, either.

John lays there in the dark, eyes open, and tries to ignore how easy it is to breathe as the water runs muffled only a few feet away. He doesn’t acknowledge the fact that he can hear again the tiny buzz of a toothbrush a little after the flow shuts off. He listens to the creak of your bed and does not think about how warm your skin must be, how softly the sheets must fall around your body.

He closes his eyes. He tries to sleep. He isn’t thinking about listening to your breathing beside him. He isn’t drifting off imagining the smell of your hair on his pillow…

He hears a tiny buzz again. Brushing your teeth a second time? No, it’s closer now…

Oh. OH.

John’s eyes fly open. Your bed creaks again. He is rigid under the covers, every muscle tensed. He breathes consciously, testing the limits of his diaphragm, counting to three between each inhale and exhale. He is desperate that his pulse remain even, that his blood refrain from rushing through his ears and other parts.

A small sound. Breathy. Low.

John slaps his hand against his thigh before it can move any further inward. He curls his fingers around the hem of his briefs, grips the fabric as if it’s going to save his damn life. Clenches his other hand into a fist, digs his nails into his palm.

What expression is on your face? What is the scent of your toothpaste on your breath?

What angle are you holding that vibrator at?

You give a low moan again.

His breath shallows out. John considers giving the wall a tap but dismisses the option immediately and ruthlessly. He will take his secret audience to the fucking grave. And he’d shoot himself before denying you this—and, he thinks shamefully, denying himself this, too.

He should get up. He should go into his living room and give you privacy. Your bed creaks again. He remembers his own mattress tends to the same disruption. He can’t move, because it would effect the same outcome as a knock—you’d know exactly how thin the walls are, know that he’s right there and that he’s only leaving after he’s already gotten an earful.

Another sound, higher. John isn’t sure he’s breathing anymore. What did your skin feel like? Would his fingers fit you better than that toy? Would his cock?

He thinks he feels a nail break skin. He tries to think of anything other than the throb of blood and heat between his legs, between your legs.

You give a sudden, high-pitched cry, one that abruptly cuts off.

John knows you’ve buried your face in your pillow to quiet yourself. His entire body twinges with the disappointment of it. He breathes so lowly as to be silent, to give space to your noise, and waits.

But the buzzing stops. Your bed shifts again, and then all is silent.

Wait. What?

Was that it?

The silence stretches. John does not move. That was it.

John does not think about how much longer he could’ve made that last. He does not think about teasing you with his hands, his lips, his tongue. Does not picture your legs hung up high on his hips.

His cock aches. He ignores it.

The gym tomorrow. And then a run. Maybe a drive to the coast, and a dip in the cold ocean.

It wouldn’t be enough, but it had to be something. John isn’t going to get a minute of sleep, and he’s going to be hearing that cut-off moan for a long, long time.

next

[mrshesh]

Hello :D I saw that you write for Modern Warfare 2, so I'd like to request how the boys would react if you ask if they'd still love you if you were a worm! Hehehehe :p

"a...worm?" - modern warfare 2 x reader

overview: mw2 men reacting to you asking if they'd still love you if you were a worm

pairing: mw2 men x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: fluff

a/n: hi anon! thanks for the request, it's really funny. i had a blast writing this. keep them coming!

x simon "ghost" riley

He would turn his head super slowly in your direction after you ask, and you can practically see the look on his face, even with his mask on 😭

He hits you with one of his side eyes, processing the question as he blinks judgementally at you.

“Fuckin' hell." He immediately sighs.

“Well? Would you?"

"Sure."

He would indeed love you, and yes, he would feed you and take care of you.

Realistically, Simon would keep you in his pocket at all times. He would also try to teach you self-defense! (Would it go horrible? Absolutely. But it’s the thought that counts.)

x john "soap" mactavish

“A worm?” He sits back in his seat, looking down at his shoes as he digs into his brain as if this is the most important question of his life. “Yeah, I think I would."

Before you know it, you’re discussing your worm life with Johnny in full detail, with him explaining how he’d build a small house for you in his backyard. 

Immediately bursts out laughing at the thought of you as a worm crawling around with a gun on the battlefield. 

“As long as you don’t cheat on me with some other worm lad, I’d still love ya, bonnie.”

x kyle "gaz" garrick

He, like Simon, hits you with one of his side eyes. 

He actually thinks about it for a hot minute, though, going through the pros and cons of this hypothetical situation. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” He concludes, shrugging as his thoughts return to the mental list of the upsides and downsides of you turning into a worm. 

“The biggest pro is that I can protect you easily. The biggest con is that you’re a worm.” 

He gets so into this scenario, discussing the matter with you as if it’s forthcoming. 

“What about you then? Would you love me if I was a worm?” He returns the question, his mind still wandering. Would you have shelter? How would he feed you? Would he accidentally stomp on you? “Yeah, I would. We can be worms together!” “Word.”

x john price

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” 

He rubs his eyes almost urgently, a light groan coming from him as he breathes heavily. He’s trying to act all tough and unbothered, but in reality, he’s melting inside. He thinks your thought process and comfortability with him is adorable. 

“I’d have to be extra careful with you, wouldn’t I?” 

He runs the scenario in his head, playing it back and skipping forward like a movie. He’s very conflicted. It’s hard to love a worm, but it’s not just any worm - it is you! 

“Sure.” He shrugs while his eyes lock in with yours. His face is to die for. He looks so done.

Realistically, he’d keep you in an aquarium full of dirt. It would be in his office so he can keep an eye on you to assure you aren’t doing something absurd, as worms do.

x alejandro vargas

Oh, he’s living for this. 

You can’t help but snicker a little when he starts laughing at your question. He’s even smacking his thigh with his hand! It can’t be that funny… it’s a simple question!

He wipes his teary eyes when he can feel his hearty laughter calm down. 

“Mi amor, you’re too funny. Yes, I would.”

He’d keep you in his pocket, regularly feeding and petting you. He’d also talk to you constantly, knowing you can’t do anything about it - the thought of it makes him giggle.

“You’re not planning on turning into one, right?” 

x phillip graves

“...What?”

He’s so confused. Why are you asking him this? 

He rolls his eyes at your expression. Your deviance drives him insane, but it also makes his heart flutter. 

He tries avoiding the question, but you keep poking and prodding - it’s safe to say he’s not getting away without an answer. 

“You’re driving me crazy, sweetie.” He sighs, shaking his head in exhaustion. You can see the corners of his lips curl up when you cackle at his response. 

“It would be difficult, but I’d try. Only because it’s you.” 

He would have a hard time originally, but he’d grow to love your worm self. It’s still you, after all. 

x könig

“Hm… I suppose I would.” 

His eyes narrow when he thinks of you as a worm. He’d fancy it if you don’t turn into a worm, but he’d still absolutely adore you.

“You really would?” “Yes. But wouldn’t that be kind of difficult?” His voice is as soft as ever, which tells you he’s genuine. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, and he doesn’t want to lie to you - which is ironic since he’d take the best care of you out of all these men! 

He would always keep you on his shoulder and talk to you constantly. You would always be full and entertained, and he would be inclined to pet you regularly. 

He would be afraid to hurt you on accident. He’s a big guy! So he would be cautious with you. 

You would also be in his hands a lot! He would love holding you. 

“But I’d prefer it if you stay like this, schatz.”

x horangi

His head snaps in your direction instantly. His eyebrows furrow unhesitatingly, but he’s soon giggling like a schoolgirl. 

“Jagiya… you are crazy.”

He, like Kyle, starts thinking about this as if it’s inevitably cropping up.

“I would. Just don’t slither all over my face.” “I said worm, not a snake, Jin.” 

He’d keep you on his helmet/his head most of the time. He would remember to feed you every time he eats, and like Simon, he would try to teach you self-defense. He’s already protective of you, but if you were a worm? He’d be your bodyguard. 

“What do worms even eat?” “I don’t know. You’re gonna have to figure that out.” “Wait- don’t tell me you’re turning into one?”

[diejager]

I know I already sent you an ask but could I get something for monster!141? Specifically Dragon!Price? Sorry for asking again but I love price and your writing!

Dragon Heart

Pairing: Dragon!John Price x fem!reader

Cw: knot, breeding kink, creampie, smut, fluff, morning sex, implied somnophilia, slow sex, romantic sex, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.7k

You knew dragons ran hot, their bodies powered by the kindled fire in their hearts, breathing smoke and fire with every breath they took. European dragons were creatures synonymous with fire, the powerful blaze that humans coveted for warmth, protection and destruction, but Price was all but the latter with his ragtag group. You once thought that Soap - sweet, rambunctious Johnny - ran the hottest, his body exhuming heat in plumes of vapours, his body exhausting itself from rapid muscle growth. Now you knew better, nothing burned more than a dragon itself, his heart pulsing in powerful waves, warm and soothing, his body warmed by the will of fire that thrived within him. You felt it all, his body calling to yours, naked under the sheets of his bed, cradling his face between your arms after your nightly activities that would follow in the morning —a promise he whispered on your lips. 

You woke up to his soft kisses, severing his mark on your body just as his hands did on your wrists, and the rough scruff of his beard, tickling your cheek and throat as he moved down. He was hard between his thick thighs, the flushed head of his cock pushing inside you in a slow roll of his hips, your slick walls stretching around his girth. Price liked waking you up with slow and gentle sex, watching your eyes crack open while they rolled back and lips cracked open to let out a few sleepy mewls, feeling him fill you up. There was something in being woken up with Price inside of you on slow mornings, to feel the warmth of his body pressing you into the bed, soft sheets hugging you, and the heaviness of his cock, carving the shape of it inside you. 

Mornings like these were full of love and affection, unhurried pleasure and gentle caresses. Price - John, you called him behind closed doors - was a devoted lover, giving you much more than he received, finding pleasure in giving rather than receiving. He was a firm, but kind hand, soft but guiding, he took the reins and watched you unravel beneath him —much like a flower blooming, petals unfurling into the prettiest blossom he knew. Price was a strong lover, caring for you through anything with strong conviction, grounding in anything he ventured into, a strong hand reminding Ghost that you were here for him, a gentle hand grounding Gaz from his slight fears, a firm hand keeping Soap in check, and a protective hand holding you close. He was everything and nothing at the same time. He gave and never asked for more, taking what was given to him with a smile and warming eyes. 

While you liked the moments of shared animosity, clawing and biting at him, pressing him down on his desk and riding the life out of his cock, milking him for all his worth while he grasped and bucked into you, holding you captive under his burning gaze; you cherished these moments of domesticity, where he was neither captain nor were you his corporal. You weren’t restrained by duty or regulations, you simply held one another out of passion, one that had his heart soar and yours skip a beat. You loved him, you knew you did as much as he did, and he loved you so much that it hurt his old heart. He whispered your name, pressing his lips against yours, a soft and sensual act drawn out in lazy mornings and passionate gazes —he never failed to look you in the eyes when he expressed himself, telling you how much he cared and how much he would give for any one of you. 

“Love you, John,” you gasped, hips bucked up, searching for his cock to hit a certain spot inside of you, the gummy part of you that made you cry and mewl. “I love you.”

His kiss tasted like cigar and smoke, a woody taste similar to Ghost’s earthy bourbon, but Price’s was more powerful, a distinct taste of him. It laid heavy with love, it clung to you with such boiling joy that you smiled, eyes closed. Your fingers found his spine, the curve that went up to his singular wing, a vestige of an accident that left him crippled in the air, you pressed down, hitting a knot while he fucked into you at a steady pace. He groaned, his pace stuttering, jerkily bottoming out, his balls flush against your ass and his wild pubic hair scratching your throbbing clit. He shuddered and you knew he liked it, the relief it gave him when you pressed a certain knot in his back, the one that released tension and gave him more leeway to move about freely and without restraint. It was your way to give back when he wouldn’t take.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped, brows furrowed and blinking away the daze you put him in, having his cock milked and his back popped felt amazing, the immediate relief painted on his face, “You’re a blessing.”

He felt like a blessing to you, his heart, his body, his mind, and everything about him was a blessing to you and his team. A gifting dragon to his hoard, keeping and protecting what belonged to him. Words wouldn’t be enough for you to show him how much you appreciate him, you used acts, favours and everything you had to show it to him. Whether it be a sudden kiss on his lips that brought a smile on his face, the skin under his eyes wrinkling from how happy he looked, or the massages you gave him, unwinding all the tension in his body after a hard mission, hearing his pleasured groan and his struggle to stay still, to stop himself from snatching you up and give you all the love he deemed you worthy of.

You murmured confessions, praises directed at his character rather than his duty, proclaiming little whispers of love. You raked your nails down his back, fleetingly touching the base of his tail, thick and robust, curled around your leg, holding it over his hip for deeper penetration, the rounded head of his cock kissing your cervix despite your prone position —a vanilla morning sex in missionary. Your hands slipped under his arm, roving over his hairy chest and pinching his perky nipples, rolling the rounded nubs between your thumb and index. You felt him twitch, a soft moan leaving his swollen lips, still kissing you with feverish need. His nipples were sensitive, especially in the mornings when his body reacted much more than at night, he’d succumb to your little tease, jerkily thrusting into you. Every drive of his cock thickened the ring of white around his cock, the ribbed girth of it catching the edge of your cunt when he pulled out, bringing you mind-numbing ecstasy. 

You could feel the coil in your core tightening, the unwinding pleasure that followed the first spasm, walls clinging onto him. You let out a shuddered breath, feeling the ribs rubbing your sweet spot and his leaky cock throb against your cervix. Slick oozed out of your hole with each thrust, the motion pushing out yesterday’s load, cream jostled out of you, squeezed around his shaft. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” he groaned, bowing his head over your shoulders, his breath hot and mouth nipping at your skin, threatening to sink his teeth and mark you for the others to see, for them to strew in jealousy that he had you all night long and the following morning. He spoiled and cared for you. “I want to hear you moan.”

Moan, you did, thighs tensing when your fingers circled your swollen clit, rolling the twitching nerve in rapid motions. You breathed laboriously, panting and gasping into his ear, mewling his name with teary and burning eyes, rolling back from pleasure and the thin veil of grey smoke that rose from his lips. It smelled like cedar, a smoky incense mixed with the natural scent of cedar and his strong cigars, a soothing and bitter smell. It drove you off the edge, his smell, his warmth, his body, and his voice sent you careening over the precipice of your pleasure, an explosive fire blinding you in white light, stars dancing around your sight as you clung to him. Your walls gripped in him a vice, clenching down on his cock and hand stuttering on your clit, the bundle of nerves sensitive and slick. 

He was sloppy, growling out praises, telling you how good you were for coming for him, confessing how he lived to bring you over the brink of relief and much farther, and mumbling how he’d ruin himself for you. It was wet and messy, he came with a single buck, snapping into you, his green-tinted balls slapping your ass wetly, and bottoming out, his knot catching and inflating with a deep groan. Hot cum filled you, ropes of potent semen shooting out of his red tip, engorged and throbbing against your gummy cervix. You felt like you’d bloat from how much he was spewing, imagining the bump of cock and cum under your skin, poking out in an erotic sight.

His back slumped over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him, face pressed under his chin and his wing covering you. You listened to his purr, a low sound meant to comfort you after sex or any other straining activity —similarly to a cat showing its joy and pleasure. Price always cuddled you while waiting out his knot, pressing his burning body against yours and spoiling you with words and kisses. His knot comfortably seated inside of you, keeping his load from going to waste, preventing his fertility from leaking out of you like the faucet-like jet of his tip, he murmured into your hair, nosing the few strands that clung to your forehead and kissed you deeply. You kissed back, fingers carding through his beard and bushy hair, nails scratching his scalp, being careful of his sensitive horns. 

“We have the day off, darling,” Price smiled conspiringly, blazing, amber eyes brimming with mirth, “Reckon we stay in bed a while longer?”

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Mistletoe mancandy series: Captain John Price