#price

[codnasties]

Hi! I’m in love with your writing and plinks! I was wondering… could you do a scenario with Ghost or Price with a plus size girlfriend? I’m always insecure about my weight and wanted to know what the Price or Ghost would think/do!

Love you!!!

price's soft little thing 🚬 (🌽 link)

trust me when i tell you that none of thes men care about weight. but price... price is the one person that specially loves himself a soft lil' thing. someone that strongly contrasts what his every day at work looks like. someone he can love as much as he wants.

and not only does he love for who you are, the captain is also a sucker for plushy tits, thick thigh, a big as and a belly. he loves loves the way fat seems to be in all the right places for you. that's why he lets you ride him so he can get a good view of that perfect body of yours.

your plump thighst stradling his hips as his rock hard cock sits snuggly inside of you. and he just lets you have your fun while meaningly making you work for it. getting you to rut your hips against his as he enjoys the view of his pretty girl going dumb on his dick.

but his 'mean' facade crubbles because he can't seem to keep his hands away from you for even half a minute. the way you needinly ride him and your plum body moves on top of his compels him to just go and grab a handful of thigh, grope one of your full tits or just lay his hands on your stomach.

he's one big sucker. he comes home and just gets on his knees to worship that body that gods grazed upon you.

[junovae]

dad!price x babysitter!reader dressed up as santa and mrs. claus on christmas eve to place gifts under the tree before his kids wake up, except they end up unwrapping each other instead.

after setting out the milk and cookies for santa and his reindeer, price's kids exclaimed with excitement about how cool it would be to see santa and his wife in the morning along with their gifts. upon hearing this, price had a brilliant idea. getting a late-night call around 2 a.m., asking you to come over with a mrs. claus outfit, wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending christmas. but for your hardworking, single-dad employer, you would make do.

he opens the door on the other side of the short hallway, revealing his silly little santa outfit. once you open your door, price's mouth falls open in surprise. you can't help but giggle at the sight of his fluffy white beard and hat. but you had other plans. he watches as your silky, white dress hugs your figure, accentuating your curves. he imagines burying his face between your breasts and spanking your plush ass for teasing him with this attire. and those tiny red bows along your waistline… those tiny red bows were driving him wild. your innocent doe eyes stare at him, but he knows there's nothing innocent about this situation. his cock hardens in his pants, creating a visible bulge through his red trousers. "c'mere, naughty girl."

originally, the plan was to spread out the presents underneath the christmas tree. but instead, the next few hours are filled with him spreading your legs apart by the fireplace and fucking your wet pussy until you're begging him to stop. sucking and nibbling on your tits while fingering his babysitter’s slick cunt under the mistletoe. humming dirty things in your ear like "i'm gunna come so hard in your nice little pussy. like that gift?" and "wa'n me to put ya on the nice list, hm? oh yeah, suck it real good fo' daddy." bending you over the kitchen counter and taking you from behind, muffling your whimpers with his hand so as not to wake up the house. grabbing and kneading your plush ass as you ride him cowgirl style on the sofa. fucking you so hard, so fast, and so good until juices drip down his shaft as your cum mixes with his own.

the two of you agree with heavy breaths, hearts pounding in your ears as clothes are strewn across the carpeted floor and naked bodies are tangled in a sweaty mess. he gives your ass one last spank. "best christmas gift ever."

[loveydovey489]

Ok. Gaz, aka the cuntiest of the 141. Helps the rest of the 141. Sending hate emails or texts.

IM GIGGLING thinking about this. Because it’s not like they can’t be scary, they are all grown men. Big scary yokes. Price has threatened countless people. The same with soap and ghost.but when it comes to texting. They’re shit and gaz is recruited for it

For price. He doesn’t understand emojis and will deadass send the ‘😡’ MID fight. (Made gaz and soap die laughing the first time.)

For ghost. He’s got a dry sense of humour, but he is an even DRYER Texter and just, texts from him are just ‘fuck you.’ Which is so dry. And not as creative as the insults her dish out in person. (He’d say it to your face.)

For soap, I think he gets so incredibly flustered while text- fighting. (He solves his problems with his fists. As we’ve seen many a times in MW2 AND MW3.) and I think he’d just do a keyboard smash. Like “HAUSTUSHWBATUCJSK” because that’s how he’s feeling.

So they ask gaz to do it, he’s so cunty you’d swear he was a teenage girl in his past life- BRUTAL. He’d stand over their shoulders of one of the lads who’d recruited him and telling them what to say.

(The only one who matches his freak on this is laswell . If they have a spare moment on the coms. And They’re chatting shit. )

[machveil]

Who in cod can spatchcock a chicken?

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY!!!!

are you kidding me, his ass could do it with his eyes closed. baby boy here used to be a butcher’s apprentice, I know his ass could butterfly a chicken. it’s muscle memory, he’s very precise about it. if you want, he’ll explain what he’s doing while taking the backbone out

in other news, I also think Price, Graves, and Nikto could do it. Price just gives me the vibe that he knows how to take out the backbone. maybe his mother taught him? like, he’d hover in the kitchen to talk to her while she cooked and he picked it up from her. Graves? Graves definitely grew up on a farm, he probably took out a handful of chickens in his life, butterflying one is nothing. he’d smugly show you how to do it, “Hey, hey, easy honey, not like that—“. Nikto just does. I can’t explain it, but if you asked him to take the backbone out he’d get it done right. has he ever done it before? I’m going to say no, he’s just randomly good at it

other food for thought, Kyle would accidentally mutilate it, so would Krueger. they’d try their best, but that’s all they can offer. Kyle would at least look up a YouTube video, tries to follow it but butchers the thing (pun intended). unlike Nikto, Krueger thinks he can do it without a problem first try, no need to look it up. he is very wrong. the chicken is not butterflied, it looks like it’s been ran over. he probably got pissed and punched it like Gordon Ramsey

[ghost-is-my-bbg]

Hsjsjssjsjsjsjsirhwkdicmbtrhux

Price can never say no to his sergeants 🎁

(unwrap the present on my patreon 🔞)

[milk-tea-sakura]

𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎- 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝓁𝑜𝓎𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒾𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁𝓈 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈.

𝒞𝓌: 𝐹𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻, 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉, 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎

Price had been away on a long deployment, leaving his wife Y/n and their little girl Layla behind. It had been a stressful few months for Y/n, trying to juggle work and parenting alone, but she knew that her husband was serving his country and doing important work.

As Christmas approached, Y/n could feel the weight of stress start to lift from her shoulders as the holidays drew nearer. She knew that Price was due to come home soon and she couldn't wait to see his face when he saw how much Layla had grown in his absence.

The day before Christmas, Y/n got a call from Price, letting her know that he would be coming home that evening. She was overjoyed and immediately started preparing for his arrival. She wanted everything to be perfect for when he walked through the door.

As the sun set on Christmas Eve, Y/n and Layla waited anxiously for Price to arrive. The little girl was sitting in front of the Christmas tree, her eyes wide with excitement.

Finally, the sound of a key in the door caught Y/n's attention. She straightened up and watched as the door swung open, revealing Price, looking weary but happy to be home.

The moment their eyes met, Y/n felt tears prick at her eyes. She had missed him so much and seeing him standing there in front of her, safe and sound, was the best Christmas gift she could ask for.

Price dropped his bag and took a step towards them, his eyes immediately finding Layla sitting there on the floor. The sight of his little girl brought a grin to his face, and he knelt down in front of her.

"Well, look at you," he said warmly, his voice hoarse from travel. "You've grown so big."

"It's only been a couple of months aswell. Can you believe it?"

Price chuckled, reached out and ruffled Layla's hair affectionately.  

"Time flies when you're not around," he said, a hint of wistfulness in his tone. "But I'm here now."  

He looked up at Y/n, his gaze softening as he took her in.

Y/n smiled back at him, her heart swelling with emotion. She couldn't believe he was really here, back in their home safe and sound.  

"We've missed you so much," she said quietly, her voice cracking slightly.

Price stood up and walked over to Y/n, pulling her into a tight embrace. He held her close, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair and relishing the feel of her body in his arms.  

"I've missed you too," he murmured into her ear. "More than you know."

They stood there for a moment, holding each other tightly, before Layla's little voice broke the silence.  

"Daddy, can we open the presents now?" she asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Layla, It's not Christmas day yet hun, Santa still needs to come."

Layla's face fell. "But I want to open them now! I can't wait any longer!" she whined, pouting dramatically.  

Price chuckled and smiled down at her. "I know you're excited, but you have to wait until tomorrow. You don't want to make Santa sad, do you?" he said, ruffling her hair again.

Layla thought about it for a moment, her pout still firmly in place. "No, I guess not," she finally conceded grudgingly.  

Price laughed and looked up at Y/n, shaking his head in mock despair. "Tough crowd," he said, a twinkle in his eye.

Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes affectionately. "She's just impatient, like her father," she teased, poking Price playfully in the side.

Price feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Excuse you, I am a paragon of patience," he protested, although the grin on his face betrayed his lightheartedness.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over her face. "Really? Patience was never your strong suit," she teased, her tone affectionate.

Price shrugged, unabashed. "I can be patient when the situation calls for it," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Like right now. I've been patient enough, waiting to get you alone for the last few months."

Y/n rolls her eyes "Alright Layla, let's get you to bed so Santa can come."

Layla whined and protested, not wanting to go to bed yet. She was too excited for Christmas to sleep.  

"But I'm not tired!" she protested, looking up at her parents with pleading eyes.

Y/n knelt down to be eye level with Layla. "I know you're not tired, sweetheart," she said kindly. "But you need to sleep so Santa can come and deliver all your presents."

Layla huffed out a sigh, clearly not happy with the situation. But she knew she couldn't argue with her parents.  

Y/n picked her up and carried her off to her room, leaving Price standing in the living room by himself.

Price watched as Y/n disappeared into Layla's room, a small pang of sadness in his chest. He wished he could have been there for all the little moments he had missed while he had been deployed.  

He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the thought. Instead, he focused on the fact that he was home now, and that was what mattered.

After a few minutes, Y/n emerged from Layla's room, closing the door gently behind her. She walked back over to Price, a tired smile on her face.  

"She's finally asleep," she said, leaning against him as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Ah, she didn't want to admit it but she was tired?"

Y/n chuckled softly. "Yeah, she's always been stubborn like that. She gets that from you," she teased, her tone affectionate.

Price feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Me, stubborn? I don't know what you're talking about," he said, a cheeky grin on his face.

Y/n rolls her eyes again but smiles. She grabs his face and presses a kiss to his lips. After pulling away she states "Your beard has really grown out. I can barely get to your lips."

Price laughs, scratching his cheek. "Yeah, it's getting pretty scruffy, I know. The guys on base used to tease me about it."  

He pulls her closer, his hands resting on her hips. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

Y/n smiled and shook her head, her fingers reaching up to brush against his stubble. "No, I actually kind of like it," she confessed, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks.  

She leaned up and pressed another kiss to his lips, unable to resist despite the beard.

"I mean it's different, a little long but if you like this length I'll eventually like it." Y/n continues.

Price chuckled at her words, amused by her response. "Eventually like it, huh?" he teased, a twinkle in his eye.  

He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes locked on hers. "What if I keep growing it out even more?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his tone.

Y/n hums "Isn't that against military protocol?"

Price grins and shrugs nonchalantly. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. But even if it is, I don't really care."  

He leans closer, his lips hovering just millimeters from her earlobe. "And besides, I like to do things my own way," he whispers, his breath sending a shiver down her spine.

Y/n's heart skips a beat at his words, his closeness making her feel heady and disoriented. She swallows hard, trying to regain her composure.  

"You're a trouble maker, you know that?" she mutters, her voice laced with both frustration and desire.

Price grins wider, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on her. He knows exactly how to push her buttons.  

"You love it," he responds, his voice low and sultry. He reaches up, his fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw. "Don't deny it."

Price's grin turns feral, his eyes darkening with desire.  

He grips her hips tightly, pulling her flush against him. He leans in, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a low and rumbling whisper.  

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," he breathes, his hands trailing up her sides, bunching the fabric of her shirt.  

He nips gently at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "And how much I want you."

Y/n gasped at the unexpected attack on her senses, her body responding immediately to his touch. She could feel the heat pooling low in her stomach, her heart racing in her chest.  

She tilted her head back, giving him better access to her neck, her brain already foggy with desire. A soft moan escaped her lips, betraying her need for him.

Price took her surrender as a cue to continue, his lips moving down to her neck, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin. His hands roamed across her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.  

He pressed her against the wall, trapping her between his body and the hard surface, his mouth never leaving her skin as he continued to mark her as his.

Y/n was completely lost in sensation, her mind a blur of desire and need. She clutched at his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles, her body arching against his.  

"Please, Price," she gasped, her voice ragged. "I need you. Now."

Price cursed under his breath, the sound of her pleading only fueling his desire further.

He lifted her up, hoisting her legs around his waist, his mouth crashing down onto hers in a fierce kiss. He pressed her against the wall, his hips pressing against hers, leaving no doubt in her mind how badly he wanted her.

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to her, her hips grinding against his. She met his kiss with equal intensity, pouring all her pent-up passion and longing into the kiss. 

She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands, desperate for more of him, more of his touch, more of his skin on hers.

Price groaned, the sound deep and guttural, his hands moving to the hem of her shirt. He pulled it up and off of her in a single swift motion, tossing it aside.  

His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every curve and dip, his gaze filled with unbridled desire. "God, I've missed this," he murmured, his hands roaming across her bare skin.

His mouth followed the path of his hands, leaving a trail of kisses and nips in its wake. His teeth grazed against her collarbone, his tongue tracing the contour of her shoulder.  

He moved lower, his lips finding the swells of her breasts, and her head fell back against the wall as a soft moan escaped her lips.

Price continued his downward progression, his hands and mouth working in tandem to set her senses on fire. He nipped at her stomach, his teeth scraping against her skin, his tongue soothing the marks he left behind.  

He reached the edge of her pants, his fingers working the button open, his eyes locking onto hers as he slowly started to pull them down.

Y/n was practically writhing under his touch, her body aflame with pleasure and need. She watched as he undressed her, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her hips arching towards him.

Once her pants were off, Price stood up, his gaze moving back to her face. He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, his breath hot and heavy against her face.  

His hands went to her thighs, gripping her hips, pulling her against him, his hardness pressing against her.  

"Say you're mine," he demanded, his voice a low growl.

Y/n's heart thudded wildly in her chest, her brain fuzzy with desire. She looked into his eyes, seeing the desperate need and possessiveness in them.  

"I'm yours," she breathed, the words barely a whisper. "Always yours."

Price's eyes darkened dangerously, a primal possessive growl rumbling deep in his chest. He hoisted her up, lifting her legs around his hips, pinning her against the wall once more.  

He captured her lips in a hard, bruising kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her as his. He rocked his hips against hers, the thin fabric of his pants the only barrier between them.

"Take it off, please" y/n practically begs

Price's eyes darkened further, the heat and need in them almost overwhelming. He took a moment to relish in her plea, the sound of her begging like music to his ears.  

Without wasting another moment, he obeyed her command, reaching down to hook his thumbs in the waistband of his pants, pulling them off with a quick, rough motion.

Now completely bare, he pressed himself against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep into her mouth, as his hands roamed over her body, familiarizing himself with every inch of her skin.

He moved his kisses down her collarbone, across her chest, his mouth finding the sensitive spot by her neck. His hands continued to explore, caressing and squeezing, as he re-memorized every dip and curve of her body.  

Y/n's mind was lost in a fog of desire and sensation, her world centered on the feel of his body against hers, the taste of him on her tongue.

Price groaned against her skin, his body taut with need. He could feel her body respond to his every touch, her hips rolling against him as she sought more friction, more of him.  

He moved his mouth back up to her ear, his voice a deep, hoarse whisper. "You're driving me insane," he said, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear. "I need you so badly."

Y/n let out a soft moan, the sound desperate and needy. She ran her hands down his back, her nails scratching against his skin, as she pulled him closer to her.  

"I want you, all of you," she breathed against his ear, her voice ragged with desire. "Please, Price, now."

Price let out a guttural moan, the sound torn from his throat by the force of his desire.  

He adjusted his grip on her, his hands grasping her hips firmly, as he shifted her slightly. He lined himself up, his eyes locking onto hers, his need and possession clear in his gaze.  

"You're mine," he growled, his voice rough with need. "Always mine."

With that, he thrust into her, his body joining with hers in one powerful movement. 

Y/n gasped at the overwhelming sensation, her body clenching around him as her head fell back against the wall, a guttural moan escaping her lips.  

She gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his flesh, as she held on tight, her body adjusting to the feel of the feel of him inside her. Price swore, the sound ragged and guttural, his body shuddering with the force of his restraint.  

He stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in labored gasps.  

"You okay?" he managed to rasp out, his voice strained.

Y/n nodded, her eyes still closed, her body adjusting to the feel of him. Her hands moved to his face, her fingers tracing the contour of his jawline.  

"I’m fine," she assured him, her voice soft and breathless. "Don’t stop, please."

Price groaned at her words, the sound torn from his lips by a mix of desire and relief.  

He started to move, his hips rocking against hers in a measured, purposeful rhythm. His mouth found her neck again, his teeth scraping against her skin, his tongue soothing the marks he left behind.

Y/n's head fell back, her body arching towards him, her hips meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Her hands roamed his back, her fingers tracing the ridges of his muscles, her touch desperate and needy.  

She couldn't get enough of him, the feeling of him inside her both overwhelming and perfect. "More," she gasped, her voice pleading in his ear. "Give me more."

"That's going to result in another baby love" Price jokes

Y/n chuckled breathlessly, her body still coiled tight with pleasure. She ran her hands through his hair, her fingers tangling in the strands.  

"And what would be the problem with that?" she teased, her voice full of suggestion.

Price's movements stuttered momentarily at her words, heat flaring deep in his gut. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.  

"You know I won't be able to stop at just one," he growled, his hands gripping her hips even tighter.

"You want another little Layla?" 

Price leaned in, nipping at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "Can you blame me?" he murmured, his tone full of possessive need. "You looked so damn beautiful pregnant with Layla."

Y/n hummed, the sound a mixture of pleasure and surprise. She hadn't expected him to admit that out loud, but hearing the words sent a rush of heat through her.  

"You loved seeing me pregnant, huh?" she teased, her voice filled with affectionate amusement.

Price chuckled, his grip on her hips tightening. "Loved it," he affirmed, the word dripping with unabashed possessiveness. "You were glowing, radiant. And knowing that you were carrying our child, it made me feel... I can't even put it into words."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at his words, the depth of his feelings for her and their unborn child making her chest feel tight. She pulled his face closer, capturing his lips in a tender kiss.  

"Sap," she mumbled against his mouth, her tone affectionate.

Price smiled into the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, a low rumble of laughter echoing in his throat. He pulled back, just enough to speak.  

"Only for you," he replied, his voice a deep rumble. "Only for you, love."

"I'm close"

Price groaned at her words, the sound rough and guttural.  

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more desperate. He knew that she was close, he could feel it in the way her body trembled against his, in the ragged gasps that escaped her lips.  

"I've got you," he reassured her, his voice a strained whisper. "Let go, I've got you."

With a gasp, Y/n reached her climax, her body shuddering against his as she let go. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her head falling back against the wall with a soft thump, a low, guttural moan escaping her lips.  

Price held her through it, his body still moving against hers, his arms strong and steady, as he helped her ride through the waves

of pleasure. As she slowly came back to herself, her breathing ragged and labored, he slowed his pace, his own release just out of reach.  

He pressed soft kisses along her jawline, his hands rubbing soothing circles into her hips. "You okay?" he asked again, his voice still gruff, but softer now.

Y/n nodded, her limbs limp and heavy, her body feeling languid and well-loved. She leaned her forehead against his, her eyes still closed, a small, content smile playing on her lips.  

"More than okay," she murmured, her voice thick with satiated exhaustion.

Price let out a huff of laughter, the sound light and happy. He lifted her off the wall, holding her easily in his arms, and carried her over to their shared bedroom.  

He laid her down gently, his body following immediately after, his muscled form caging her in. He looked down at her, his gaze full of love and tenderness.

"You're amazing," he whispered, his voice quiet and reverent. He ran his fingers through her hair, his touch gentle and loving.  

He moved down, pressing kisses along her neck, her collarbone, her chest, his mouth worshiping every dip and curve of her body.

"Mmm," Y/n hummed, her body arching into his touch, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. "You keep that up and I might go again."

Price chuckled at her words, the sound deep and amused. He nipped at her belly button, his tongue swirling around the indentation.  

"Don't tempt me," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "You know I have no self-control when it comes to you."

Y/n shivered under his touch, her body reacting immediately. She tangled her fingers in his hair, her breath coming in soft gasps.  

"Who says I don't want to tempt you?" she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper.

Price groaned at her words, the sound primal and needy. He moved his mouth lower, his teeth grazing along her hip bone.  

"You're a menace," he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and heavy. "A goddamn siren."

Y/n laughed, the sound a mix of amusement and desire. She tugged on his hair, pulling his head up so she could look at him.  

"Only for you, love," she teased, her voice a sultry drawl. "Only for you."

[aussiepineapple1st]

Red Snow (page 5-6)

Part 1 | Previous

They did their best. But he was doomed as soon as that knife had sunk into his neck.

[downfalldestiny]

"Happiness always has a price 🌇 !".

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 5 - ICE SKATING

Title: John Can't Skate

Synopsis: Taking John, your older boyfriend, ice skating turns out really nice.

Warnings: This is a MAJOR age gap fic. He's literally in his fifties--like twice your age in this. So uh... if that triggers anything for you you probably shouldn't read this?

AN: aghh I love writing fluff with John. This isn't exactly Christmas themed but I think it works?

John *knows* he's too old for you.

He's old enough to be your bloody father, after all. He's pushing a healthy mid-50s, and you're what.. 24? You're still so young and trying so many things, and of course you're inviting John, you love him, you want to experience things with him.

Christmas shopping? He can do that in spades. Christmas movies? Hell yeah, sit beside you and rub your thigh the entire time. But ice skating? You're kidding. He'll break his ankle, birdie!

But now he's here, lacing on those devilish skates, clearly not ready. "Lovie..." He grumbles, struggling to stand up once they're on. You bark out a laugh, helping him stand.

"You're gonna fall on your ass... You need to stand like *this,*" you point out, fixing your feet to show him how to stand. He huffs, copying your movements but still holding onto your upper arms like a lifeline.

You guide him out to the ice, your first steps are graceful, and his are... Well... He nearly falls but his death grip on the guide rails on the wall keep him upright.

It's almost adorable, watching him learn, you occasionally give him tips and teach him little things.

By the first thirty minutes he has an arm wrapped around your waist--someone looked at his birdie too long, of course--and he's only like a drunk baby deer on the ice.

"Cannot *believe* I let this shit 'appen," he grumbles to himself, holding onto you as you both circle around the rink slowly.

"John.. it's adorable. We look so cute!" You say, pulling out your phone.

You reach a hand to grab your phone, but you slip a little. He grabs your waist instead, causing you both to dip, his face a breath from yours. He spins you both, trying to keep you both up, you're gasping at every second. 

He laughs, "Gettin' the 'ang of it, huh, birdie?"

You nod, whooping out a little, letting yourself get swung and danced with. He chuckles, grinning at your joy. He feels your hand move up to his shoulder, your hands intertwined. 

He guides you both--an odd change, really--through the groups of couples and children and singles skating, dancing with you.

Once your two hours is up, you guide him off the rink and help him out his skates.

"Canno' believe I did tha', dovie," he mumbles, unlacing his skates and then helping you out yours.

Once your skates are returned and you both leave for his car, John's hand is on the small of your back.

"Now let's go and *relax.* Tha' was a bloody nightmare," he grumbles, holding onto you loosely.

You chuckle and nod, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Yeah... Let's go home."

[nanotransmagic]

I’ve got 🔞content videos and pictures baby for only interested persons…text me on telegram if you in…Trannynano55

[junovae]

merry christmas, please don't call

summary: 3 years ago, you broke his heart on his favorite holiday. now, the captain is torn between defying your wishes and following his own desires. price x reader oneshot | 1.2k | sfw | in another life angst | holiday special a.n: inspired by alex chrichton's "merry christmas, i miss you." after listening to this song, i felt the need to write this holiday special price angst LOL

—

⋆❅*𖢔𐂂꙳ JOY TO THE WORLD ⋆❅*𖢔𐂂꙳

the sign sitting in the snowy yard flickered, the soft-yellow bulbs on the 'y' and 'w' struggling to stay lit. price sighed as he climbed the steps of the trailer's front porch, the crunch of snow beneath his boots fading as he reached the door. yes, today was his favorite holiday, but he felt anything but joyous.

with a quick turn of the key, he entered, leaving the snowy realm behind him. the door clicked shut, and price didn't bother with the lights. the cold air clung to him as he walked into the darkened living room, the silence heavy. he let it consume him, the chill of the day lingering as he reflected on all that had unfolded.

the captain had been an anxious mess all day, a feeling that was both unusual and foreign to him. his privates had noticed it—of course they had, this wasn't normal. and if the privates had picked up on it, then surely his sergeant had clocked it instantly.

this theory was confirmed when gaz stepped into the captain's office.

“sir, whatever it is on your mind,” he began, “just do it.”

john gave him a questioning look, but kyle didn’t buy it for a second. he knew this man far too well to miss the signs of a restless mind.

“you of all people should know that life’s too short,” the sergeant said firmly before turning and walking out of the room.

and that was how he came to be in his current disposition. now he sits, phone in hand, the only light coming from the moon filtering through the blinds, casting faint lines across his face.

"merry christmas, please don’t call."

your post-breakup plea echoed in his mind as his fingers hovered, then instinctively scrolled down to your contact. it’s been three years, and he still regrets it—what he did to you, or primarily, what he couldn’t do for you.

your picture stared back at him, your laugh playing faintly in his ears, your face burned into his soul like a scar that never quite healed. and then it happened—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. fear.

fear that you wouldn’t respond.

or worse, that you would.

he stood, pacing the living room as if movement might calm the storm inside him. finally, he sank into the worn green couch, its cushions swallowing him whole.

before logic could intervene, before the weight of three years could stop him, he clicked the button.

the phone rings once. he stares blankly out the blinds, anticipation curling in his chest.

twice. his grip tightens around the phone. what was he even going to say if you did answer?

a third time. he sits up straighter, breath caught in his throat.

a fourth.

a fifth.

he’s just beginning to lose hope, already bracing for the sting of defeat, when the line clicks. and then—

“hello?”

your voice. soft, familiar, and so achingly real it stops him cold. for the first time in three years, he hears you.

john price falls to his knees, the weight of it all crashing into him like a wave.

there you are. there’s his person.

his mind is a mess, thoughts colliding and unraveling all at once, but somehow, he feels like he knows what to say.

he’s spent years trying to forget—trying and failing. your laugh still echoed in his mind, your face still burned into his soul, etched there like a brand he could never shake. your very presence had given him back every ounce of humanity the war had stolen from him. your touch had protected his heart, fragile and worn as it was, stitching it together in ways he never knew he needed.

and now, hearing your voice again, everything comes rushing back—the good, the painful, the parts of himself he thought were gone forever.

he doesn’t know how to explain it, how to put into words all the ways you had saved him and all the ways he had let you down. but he knows one thing for certain: he wants to start over.

this time, he’ll get it right. whatever it takes.

“hi, there,” he breathes, a soft smile tugging at his lips, disbelief lacing his voice. “how are ya?”

silence.

he doesn’t let it stop him. words tumble out, raw and unfiltered, carried by the hope of something new, something better. “i-i’m sorry i’m callin’ all’a sudden, but i just wanted to say—”

“i’m busy right now, so just leave me a message and i’ll get back to you later.”

what?

price freezes, the voice on the line hitting him like a punch to the gut. the beep follows, sharp and final, and he stares at his phone, disoriented.

his heart plummets to his stomach as reality slams into him. the adrenaline drains away, leaving only cold logic in its place. what the fuck had he been thinking? that you’d just pick up where things left off? that you’d want him back after the way he treated you?

he sinks back against the couch, rubbing a hand over his face as regret claws at him. he’s spent years haunted by what he did—what he couldn’t do—for you. and maybe, just maybe, the universe would allow your paths to cross again one day. maybe, with time, he’d find the courage to call you once more.

but then it hit him—a harsh, bitter realization that settled heavy in his chest.

not today.

it was a hard pill to swallow, one he wished he didn’t have to choke down. at least not with makarov, not with russia, not with the chaos waiting for him at every turn. he couldn’t be that man for you, not now—not yet. ultimately, this was for the better.

choosing not to leave a message, he tosses his phone onto the couch, the screen dimming like the hope he’d briefly held onto. the room feels colder now, quieter.

he walks to the window, hands stuffed into his pockets, and looks out at the snow as it falls gently to the ground, blanketing the world in white. for a fleeting moment, he lets himself imagine.

maybe in another life, the two of you could bake gingerbread houses, icing smudged on your noses as you laughed together. maybe you’d wear those silly, matching christmas pajamas you’d always joked about, singing carols off-key until you were breathless. maybe you’d string up holiday lights together, your fingers brushing as you worked, before gifting each other presents wrapped with care.

maybe in another life, you’d place the star on the tree together, his hands steadying your waist as you reached for the top. you’d have snowball fights, collapsing into the snow with breathless smiles, and later, he’d kiss you under the mistletoe—under the falling snow, even—before throwing you over his shoulder with a laugh, carrying you inside to make love to you by the fireplace, the crackling flames painting your skin gold.

but not in this life.

not today.

right now, he’d have to spend his favorite holiday without you again.

he leans his forehead against the cold windowpane, the frost biting at his skin as his breath fogs the glass. he closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and into the still darkness, whispers,

“just wanted to say merry christmas, darlin’.”

[gothghostiie]

price with reader who never got much attention as a kid/growing up??

very self indulgent but hear me out. price is a lover man. he takes his time for his partners, gives them what they need, even if he's busy. you on the other hand are simply used to being put aside, people only listening to you half heartedly, not looking at you and getting distracted when you talk, other things were always more important than you and you felt that. you got used to it, it's normal to you.

but when you're with price he's the total opposite. he looks at you intently when you talk (if not hes leaning his head towards you so he hears you better), putting things down when you ask him something - hes attentive. he listens. and its absolutely strange to you, it makes you feel flustered, kinda watched. at some point you ask him why hes looking at you like that, the tv running in the backround. he furrows his eyebrows at you, with a confused chuckle. "what do you mean, love?"

"you're starin' at me." you accuse him, your cheeks getting hot.

"you're talkin' to me. where else would I be looking?" he jokes with a soft chuckle, wondering what the hell you're on about.

"your show's on." you say, gesturing to the tv. he looks at you like youve got three heads.

"I'm listening to you, love."

[writersdrug]

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish is the kind of dad who throws your kids around for fun, tossing them into the air and catching them just to hear their infectious laughter, ignoring the worrisome protests that you call out from the kitchen when they get a little too high.

Captain John Price is the kind of dad who convinces your children to ask you for pizza for dinner, acting all surprised when you tell him to call the local pizza place, eyebrows rising with "What's the occasion?" despite the obvious grin that his plan worked. You aren't fooled.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is the kind of dad who chases your kids around with a nerf gun, relentlessly pelting them with styrofoam bullets and ganging up on your oldest son with your youngest daughter. Waits behind the front door for your son to get home from school and immediately fires on him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of dad who holds your toddlers like footballs, your daughter tucked sideways under his arm and dangling your son by his ankle. "Found these mice sniffin' 'round the cookie tin." He says with a deadpan expression, but you don't miss the way his mouth twitches when they giggle and shriek.

[simonbrain]

john making simon watch you get the pounding of your life because the two of you got into a nasty little argument, resulting in simon taking his anger out on johnny's ass.

he didn't even stop when you walked into your shared bedroom to see johnny getting his back blown out by your man. he only ordered you to sit and watch as johnny's moans and whines and the sounds of skin slapping filled the room, cum and drool staining your sheets.

simon had the audacity to groan when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, bottom lip quivering. he always did get off on making you cry.

now he sits with a hard, leaking cock, hands restrained behind the back of the chair as he's forced to watch you get fucked by his captain. despite the way he snarls and grits his teeth, he still twitches and drools in his pants when your cunt gushes around john's cock for the nth time, the desperation to join becoming unbearable. it doesn't help that you're making the prettiest noises, writhing as john folds you into full nelson, your body on full display. simon's seething, so pissed off because he can't touch himself, and he can't even lap at your sloppy pussy or suck on your pretty clit.

"dirty mutts like you get nothin'," john barks when simon pathetically demands to be allowed to touch you, his hips effortlessly working to bring you over the edge again. "you'll never fuckin' learn if i don't teach you how to play nice with your toys; what kind of captain would i be, eh?"

you're babbling incoherent nonsense, not a thought in your head as john's gravelly voice coos sweet things into your ear, calling you his perfect girl while he kisses away your tears. you feel like you're floating right up into the ether, another orgasm ripping through you when he rubs tight, firm circles over your sensitive clit, drool running down your chin at the immense pleasure tingling all over your body.

you aren't sure if you actually heard it before you passed out in john's arms at the end of it all, but you swear he grunted, "i fuckin' own you, so i own her. my pretty pussy, my pretty girl."

(meanwhile, kyle's sorting johnny out in another room, edging him nice and long for being such a slut. if he wanted a good fuck, kyle was right there, and he's feeling offended.

"is it cause i'm not taken?" kyle huffs, cruelly twisting his fist around the head of johnny's cock and grinning meanly at the broken sob he gets in return.)

[lyeofhell]

you know John’s petty as hell. like no one that controlling and obsessed with caretaking is normal. if you unbuckle your own seatbelt and open your own door before he can jump outta the driver’s seat and do it, he’ll run around the car and shut the door back in your face just so he can open it for you djskdskd