#price x ftm reader

[yanderestarangel]

౨ৎ HEADCANONS COD || GHOST, KÖNIG, CAPTAIN PRICE — ROMANTIC SEX WITH THEM

TW: body worship, romantic sex, use of lingerie, ftm reader, v!sex, anal sex, blowjob, praise, daddykink, age gap, fluff, femboy reader, reader without top surgery.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ GHOST ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡

"I love you more than I can express."

♡⁠┊He is usually a quick lover and likes to mark you to show everyone that you belong to him, something in the nature of leaving you completely covered in love bruises that makes you dizzy.

♡⁠┊But something made him want to take it slow from that lazy and cold morning. He needed to go to work again on another Bravo 141 mission - however, seeing you needy and rubbing yourself against him, asking him to stay a little longer was like a siren song that he couldn't deny the call. "Are you feeling neglected, my baby?" Ghost speaks in a hoarse voice, slightly lifting his balaclava to meet your lips as he lay down on your bed again.

♡⁠┊You rubbed yourself against his muscular body, a silent plea for more than just making out – even though you knew you were going to be late, your husband couldn't deny you anything, so it wasn't a surprise to you when his fingers found their way to your pussy and began a soft dance on your clit.

♡⁠┊It didn't take long for Ghost to quickly take off his clothes and stand above you, his left hand holding your hip and keeping you where he wanted you to be, gently slamming his hips into yours as the wet sound of flesh against flesh filled his ears and made him dizzy. Unlike the other times, that morning he just wanted to feel you completely. He wasn't fucking you; he was making love to you and worshiping every inch of your body.

♡⁠┊"You look beautiful like this... You really complete me, don't you?" Ghost spoke softer than ever, his voice seemed like a balm that penetrated your soul – his free hand caressed your cheek and he stopped his movements long enough for you to feel his cock warm up a little more inside you. He momentarily took off his skull balaclava, so you could look directly into his face; his blue eyes seemed to want to tell you feelings that he didn't have the courage or way to say in mere words – one thing was certain, he loved you.

♡⁠┊He leaned in enough to press his lips against yours, Simon rarely kissed when you had sex, yet there he was – moaning into your tongue softly as his hips met yours again. Several "I love you"s came out of his mouth messily. His body trembled and the world disappeared completely as he explored every inch of your body as if looking for some detail he had never seen before.

♡⁠┊After a few more thrusts he finally cums inside your pussy, making you cling to him as you felt your stomach swell slightly from the amount of semen in your gut. He stood there, holding the back of your neck as he caught his breath.

♡⁠┊Ghost looked at his watch and sighed, realizing how late he was for work, but seeing you there, all beautiful and messy... He decided to stay, just for that day. "I'm not going to leave now, just rest my boy, when you wake up I'll be here." He said meditating in his mind that it was a great way to start his day, and maybe he should adore you a little more every day.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ KÖNIG ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡

"You make me nervous... And I like it."

♡⁠┊He liked the softness of your skin on his hands, he liked the way you smiled beautifully and blushed when you were too embarrassed, he liked the way his bracelet matched yours and how beautiful it looked when you two held hands. König loved you more than he ever thought he could ever feel in his life.

♡⁠┊He was terrible with words, but every action he did was the purest to demonstrate how much he was in love with you; in fact, in love was an understatement, König was madly in love with you - in a healthy and good way. He was a military soldier trained for years, he could kill enemies and targets easily without any regret - and yet, you made him so nervous and out of himself, as if butterflies were growing in his stomach.

♡⁠┊And this also happened when you had sex. His muscular, imposing and scarred body was beneath you - his eyes had a solemn expectation of seeing you take control and enjoy his body. His hands held the soft flesh of your waist and he whimpered softly feeling your body connected deeply to his.

♡⁠┊You didn't know where the territory of intimacy between each other began or ended, at that moment, you and the Austrian were only one. "I... Love you so much, you're mine, aren't you, liebling?" König moaned muffled by his sniper mask, his muscles rippled slightly as he fixed his focus on your body and how your clitoris was swollen - because of the hours of the two of you exploring each other's bodies.

♡⁠┊You could see little tears welling up in his eyes – he was short-circuiting from so many stimuli together. The love in his chest that burned his insides all the way to his stomach with that cold, good feeling of being madly in love with someone, you made him lose control of his senses.

♡⁠┊He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how much he admired you for being a strong man and that he was very lucky to have you in his life... However, the only sounds that could come out of his mouth at that moment were honeyed and hoarse moans, accompanying his eyes rolling back in his skull and him squeezing your smaller body tightly, to the point of leaving marks that would remain for another day.

♡⁠┊He whimpered louder, incoherent words, but you knew they were all just the purest love and affection for you. König held you tightly, making you sit on his entire length at once – the wet and pleasurable sensation made you milk his cock with your inner walls pulsing and wanting more – at the same time your partner quickly withdrew from your wet hole and came all over your belly, marking you as his again.

♡⁠┊"I love you..." Was all he could formulate as he buried his face in your soft flesh and waited for his heart and breathing to return to normal as his body went slightly numb. "You make me feel things I never thought possible... You are the man of my life and if there is a paradise I am definitely already in it, with you." He speaks with a certainty never seen before by you, his words came straight from his soul, making you feel more desired and loved.

♡⁠┊He slowly began to fall asleep, still holding you, as if he was afraid that you would disappear from his arms - one of his hands on the side of your ass while his cock softened against your stomach, the sensation still burned both of your skins, but you both just wanted to enjoy that moment without any extra feeling, just the purest and most peaceful love. In years, König could smile genuinely behind his mask, knowing that he had found something more to fight for.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ CAPTAIN PRICE ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡

"I want more than your pretty face..."

♡⁠┊It was just supposed to be sex, he paid to have a young man like you to satisfy him and have a beautiful accessory by his side - but soon the captain found himself attached to you in a way he never imagined. You were a funny, smiling and bright man, just like a sunshine.

♡⁠┊The first few dates between the two of you were really comfortable – he was a gentleman with you and made you feel like the most desirable man in the world; and then he completely broke you in bed until you didn't even know how many times he came. Price was the type of sugar daddy who tries not to get attached to your presence but it doesn't take long for him to find himself thinking about your image after a few sexual encounters.

♡⁠┊It was never his intention to really fall in love with you... but the way you touched him, the way you smiled at him, the way that silk lingerie fell on your body and adorned every curve of your skin, the way you moaned and whimpered when his cock entered your pussy... It was too much for him to bear and see as just an exchange of monetary favors.

♡⁠┊You caused reactions he didn’t even think were possible. You were everything he dreamed of in a partner. Even without obligation, you kept him company and never asked for anything in return, listening to his stories about past missions and the challenges he and his team faced. Price always finished his tales with a soft sigh and a vulnerable look, realizing how much he had opened up to you. "Ignore that, my lad, I just ramble too much like every old man," he would say, trying to hide the blush on his face. It was so obvious how much he considered you more than just a mere companion.

♡⁠┊He wanted to be with you all the time. It became more than just a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship—he really wanted something serious with you. However, his insecurities always prevented him from saying anything more; he would freeze every time he tried to invite you to something more romantic than a sexual encounter in a luxurious hotel room.

♡⁠┊That night was lighter and different from most of the ones you were used to having. Price wanted to express how much he wanted you more than a pretty face sucking his cock and walking around with luxury items bought by him. The white lace lingerie adorned your body and barely covered your shiny pussy – The captain was between your legs, his voluminous beard tickling your sensitive flesh with each protruding lick he gave with his tongue on your lips, making you press his head between your soft thighs and making you even more drunk with pleasure.

♡⁠┊The rose petals he had scattered on the bed earlier stuck to your sweaty skin – your breasts swayed with each movement of the older man’s tongue as you felt like a god for being so adored by someone. Your wetness spread across his face and skin, the scent of sweet musk making him dizzy and hard as fuck.

♡┊He rubbed his hips on the soft mattress, looking for some friction to warm his erection – you could hear small moans and husky words coming from his lips as his blue eyes devoured you inch by inch. "Fuck, you make me so hard, you don't know what you do to me." Price groaned hoarsely as he gently slapped your thigh to make you moan even louder for him.

♡⁠┊After making you cum again on his tongue – Price would get on his knees between your legs and rub his hard, throbbing cock against your entrance, wet with your juices and his saliva. The thick, warm tip of his shaft applied a delicious, slow pressure to your swollen clit, making you beg for him to fill you up soon.

♡⁠┊As soon as he did, the older man leaned in enough to kiss you as his hips worked at a slow, sensual pace – his muscular thighs smacked against yours while his balls slapped against your ass cheeks, making you hear a wet noise in the process. You saw Price's smile widen even more when he saw you blushing at him being so loving with you, treating you like the god you were.

♡⁠┊"I can't hold it anymore... fuck boy, you make my heart race." He said between moans, pressing his forehead against yours as he sped up his movements and made your curves jump out of the thin fabric of the lingerie you were wearing. He grabbed one of your breasts as he squeezed it tightly and came inside you without warning, it was a new but strangely hot sensation.

♡⁠┊He sighed and stared into your eyes, his breathing even meeting yours rhythmically. "You make me feel things... I know this should be a business relationship, but I can't let a beautiful boy like you escape me." The older man said with a soft smile and kissed you on the forehead. "Let's have dinner at a restaurant... Just you and me, no sex, no sugar daddy or sugar baby, just you and me, my prince, no pressure, obviously... I just want to show you that I fell in love with you much more, much more than your pretty face and perfect body." He said, looking at you with all the passion he could show – he didn't know where this relationship could go, but he wanted to try to love again and he wanted to love you, only you.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆

[a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5]

Scar Tissue (Price x Trans Masc! Reader)

Contains: Tooth-rotting fluff, completely SFW, FTM reader intended but should be safe for masc leaning enbies too, 2nd person POV, reader has a singular double mastectomy scar as is very self conscious about it, ambiguous warm drink cuz I don’t like tea or coffee lol, \obnoxiously self indulgent in my opinion but I hope it resonates with others

A/n: Woof I’m nervous but I do really like how this turned out. It’s cute and it even made my partner blush despite him being cis lol also Price is your husband because it’s cute and I said so. Be gentle with this one, yeah?

Although this is safe for all ages, I ask minors please refrain from interacting with me and this post, and any other posts. This is a space for adults.

The night always made things tougher. Something about the quiet, the darkness, the otherwise calm atmosphere made it harder to chase away the more negative thoughts. Insecurities burned hot in the cold of night as you stood outside on the small veranda of your little English apartment in the crisp wintry air to try and chase them away. The rain had only just stopped pouring down in torrents. The sound of wet tires driving below you accompanied the familiar, gentle smell of rain. It was comforting. Not enough to dull the pain, unfortunately, but comforting still.

You didn’t pay attention to the time, doing so usually just stressed you out during these moments, so you hadn’t noticed how late it was until your husband had sidled up behind you with a warm mug he’d made just for you. He handed it to you silently. He learned a long time ago what being outside this long this late at night usually meant. He wrapped a warm arm around your chilled shoulders and gently pulled you against him. Finally, you started to slowly pull away from your negative thinking just long enough to quietly speak.

“Thank you,” was all you could manage, but Price didn’t mind. He knew that for you, your words carried more weight than they seemed on the surface.

He hummed in response, giving your shoulders a small squeeze to say ‘you’re welcome.’

“Doin’ alright?”

A playful glare was all your husband got in return. He was happy to see you at least still had the heart to joke a bit with him.

“Right. Stupid question. Sorry, love.”

Eventually, you’d take a sip from your mug. He always prepared your drinks to your preferences. It made your chest warm.

“Wanna talk about it?” He was looking at you now. That gentle expression always comforted you.

You shook your head and took another slow sip, “Just insecurities again. Nothing major, I’m fine.”

“That why you've been out here on the veranda staring out at nothing the past couple hours?”

You took another sip, electing to say nothing. You did make it extra noisy though, pulling a rumbling chuckle from Price’s chest in the process.

Eventually, he guided you inside. You were as cold as the dead when he’d gotten to you. He wanted to warm you up and, if you’d talk, he wanted to know what was wrong. Knowing it was an insecurity of yours narrowed it down, but not enough to pin it. He needed to know a bit more.

You sat on your small couch, Price quickly following you. He took your hand in his. The callouses that littered his palm and fingers were always grounding. You were certain if you were blindfolded and told to guess which hand belonged to him, you’d guess correctly without fail. You knew every dip and ridge in his skin like your own.

You’d finished your drink after a while. You sighed, leaning into your husband’s chest. His heartbeat never failed to help your mind quiet down a bit.

“Just my scar again…” you mumbled, lacing your fingers in with his.

He kissed his teeth, the clicking noise it made bringing you out of the beginning of another spiral, “What did I tell you ‘bout that, love? You know I think it’s perfect.”

“I know,” you said, tucking your head under his chin, “‘Fraid I don’t think the same way, is all.”

His free hand rose up to hold your head and he pressed a soft lingering kiss into your hair, “That’s why I’m here. To think that way for you. C’mon, then, on your back.”

You groaned, pretending your melancholy face hadn’t broken out into a small grin, as you were guided onto your back. Price hovered above you and lifted your shirt up to your collarbone, kissing slowly up your belly as he did so. His kisses finally reached the part of your chest you couldn’t feel anymore. The scar tissue had faded quite a bit, but it was still clearly visible. One straight line stretched across your ribcage. It was uneven, thicker in some places than others. When your clothes were on, you often forgot about it. But when they weren’t…

You couldn’t feel much of the kisses that your husband trailed across the scar. His beard would drag across the area around it, your body unsure if it tickled or itched, but you could only feel the pressure of his lips through the numb skin. Still, you looked down and watched as he worshiped the ugly line that ripped through your skin. It wasn’t neat, wasn’t typical, wasn’t the ideal, but Price always showed he never cared about that.

”It made you happy, yeah? All that matters, then,” is what he’d always say.

All those mean thoughts finally started to melt away as he continued to kiss along your chest, further up to your collarbone. He pulled your shirt down so he could kiss up your neck, across your jaw, and finally up to your mouth. You felt him grin against your lips. You suppressed an annoyed whine as he pulled away to look at you.

“Better?”

“A bit.”

“I can keep going.”

“Would you?”

You fell asleep on the couch with your shirt pulled up to your shoulders and Price’s lips against your scar.

[killmeprettypleasee]

𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓒𝓵𝓾𝓫𝓼

✁___________________________________

Warning: Loving sex, nipple play, Stripper reader, age gap! Reader is 23 price is mentioned to be around his late 30's.

It was a normal work shift at the strip club, you were at the back getting ready for your show while your other colleagues were keeping their clients busy.

Only 5 minutes left before your show starts... You wore light and natural make up aswell as a revealing bunny suit with a big diamond opening at the back and a small one by your tummy, white thigh high stockings matched to the outfit.

You looked in the mirror to see your wear and it looks so cute, the fluffy ear bounced at the top of your head as you turned around to get a better look of yourself.

You then got out of your studio and went on the stage, where men and women glanced at you, they were in awe to what they saw.

Especially the man with a bucket hat.

As you began to dance, you body gracefully moved while you pole danced, all eyes are captivated by the mix of your cuteness and sexyness.

The music played was a slowly beat, matching your movements as you danced.

Then a crowed began to throw money on the stsge, showing how entertained they are to have you danced on the said stage.

While looking in the crowed you saw a poor looking old man man maybe around his late 30's with a bucket, drinking whiskey while watching you, he noticed that your eyes were on him and gave you a flirty wink causing you to turn away in embarrassment..

The old man was attractive, yeah? He's really attractive.. you never knew you were into old men before.. but damn...

----------------

After your show, you were back at your studio to rest until someone knocked on your door, you opened it and saw it wad your manager.

"you're free right now, kid?.."

He spoke out, he looks clearly in a hurry.

"why's that Daniel?"

You replied.

"You goy a bew client and he seemed to want you now?.. he literally payed a fortune for you there"

Daniel shot you a smirk.

It shocked you that someone would really pay alot just to have you..

"how much?"

"Around 10k"

Your jaw dropped when you heard that, normally people would pay around 300-500 each round but damn! You thought you're gonna faint at the amount.. but you were also curious on who this man was.

"Lets go.. we should not keep him waiting."

"Y-yeh.. okay?.."

----------------

After changing-- you are now wearing a pair of cropped tops and shorts that has an opening to your ass.

You followed Daniel to the back, and opened a room to see the same man tha winked at you during your performance..

"Ive been waiting pretty boy..~"

The man spoke out and called you to walk in, you already done this before but you felt so shy around him, there's totally something about him that makes you weak to your knees.. and you couldn't quite identify it.

You walked up to him and.sat on his lap, you could feel his hard on press against your thigh.. you could tell how bug it was.. then soon he pulled you closer to him grind his hardon against your thigh, making you let out soft moans.

"Call me Price, I'd love it when you scream my name, sweetheart"

He spoked out, kissing your forehead lovingly.

His movements we're so loving and gently, you couldn't help but whimpered softly.

Slowly his hands spread your trembling legs as his finger's played with your tight ass hole, You moan against him, clinging close to him.

"Such a pretty boy hm?.. you feel so tight.."

Price chuckled softly as he fingered you, feeling how tight you'd gotten.

Then he laid you down on the bed, lifting your cropped tops up and began to play with your nipples.

To Price, The sight was so cute! Having you beneath him and being all cute and submissive for him.. he knew the moment both of you locked eyes, he knew the he had to have you.

Soon his lips wrapped around one of your nipple and began to suckle on it making you whine out softly.

Then Price took out his cock, stroking while pre cum slowly began to drip down his base,and slowly pushed in.

"A-ah.. s-so big"

You whined out, letting out soft sobs of pleasure.

He let you adjust to his size around a minute and when he felt you loosing up he began to gently and carefully thrust into you.

The way he did it was so gentle and almost so loving.

Praises slip down his lips as he thrust into your warm core, he felt like he was in heaven having to be inside of you.

It was the perfect feeling to be inside a cute boy like you.

His fingers kept on groping your skin, making sure you were really really as his thrust began to slowly increase.

His lips got back, wrapping up around  your puffy nipples as this action made you feel so blished out.

Having some man use you was the norm, but this was different..

"Such a good boy aye?.. be a good boy for me baby boy.."

Price grunted.

"N-ngh.. a-hah! G-gonna cum.. P-price.. f-fuh.. fuck--"

You whimpered submissively as you clung unto his broad shoulders as you legs began to tremble.

Price's gips pistoned abit faster as he whispered little praises of encouragement in your ear as his lips kissed a trail on your neck oh so lovingly.

Finally he slammed his hips into you both cumming at the same time, his lips soon met with yours in a loving kiss, you kissed back.

You felt so loved for once doing your job, other's treated you like the cheap whore you are but this man? Price?.. oh god you felt like you don't wanna leave him..

"Fuck.. my little price looks so cute, just wanna have you all to myself my cute boy.."

Price chuckled, holding you close in his embrace, you cuddled up close against him.. breath getting heavy as you cuddled up against his form.

"P-please.. im yours please"

You begged softly, wanting to stay with him so badly making him let out a soft laugh.

"Dont worry.. I'll keep you and make you feel the love you deserve pretty boy.."

----------------

After that encounter Price became you regular, always wanting to be with you, sometimes he paid just to make love with you and sometimes just to cuddle up with you on bed and do nothing but feel each others embrace.

You end up quitting your job and went on to have a date with your new boyfriend, he would spoil you all the time and even pamper you like a baby, he just thinks your so damn cute!!.

He so happy he have you now.. he felt so blessed winning your heart, now that you're his, he only wished to love you and to be loved back by you, he woukd never love another because he has you in his life now.

✁___________________________________

A/n: I just noticed military captains get paid alot! So yeh... And ive been craving for loving sex lately with older men 😞

[gofishygo]

[iceman-soup]

ftm reader (post top surgery) x top!price

Thinking of Price finger fucking you in his office: you're sat on his lap, facing him and half-leaning backwards against the edge of the desk. He's got one hand on the small of your back, holding you up, and the other down your trousers, gentle touches to your wet heat before shoving two of his thick digits in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your bare chest.

Your shirt lays crumpled on the floor next to his chair, the only piece of clothing from either of you taken off. He insists it gets in the way, but you both know he just loves to see and feel your pretty scars, kissing them and reminding you how handsome you are whilst he curls his fingers inside your cunt, only going faster when you groan or whine.

And of course he's never stingey with the praise, calling you a "gorgeous lad," kissing you softly and breaking apart to murmur how you're his "best boy," to your lips as you moan.

[thegnomelord]

If you're up to it, I would like to request FtM reader x dragon Price, reader can be dom or sub I just need more FtM things in life besides myself😞😞 -🐆

Sure, I wasn't in the mood for porn so have some fluff. fair warning I'm not all that confident writing FTM reader so ya'll tell me if this sucks lol

CW: SFW, gender dysphoria, fluff, non sexual nudity, cuddling, scar kissing

Most day are good for you. Most days you're able to get out of bed and go about your day to day duties with confidence.

Not today.

You wake before your alarm with an unpleasant feeling in your gut, tossing and turning for an hour in hopes of falling asleep but it's useless. The morning chill only amplifies the horrid sensation — your skin doesn't feel like your own, your body doesn't feel your own. It's like roaches are crawling beneath your skin, thousands of toothpicks stabbing your nerves every time the cotton of your boxers brushes against your flawed flesh. Old words of people you once considered friends ring in your head like church bells: You're not a real man, you'll never be.

All you are, is a badly made replica in the approximation of what you want to be.

Your bones feel like they're lined with lead, every cell in your body begging you to stay under the covers in the darkness of your room for however long it takes for this feeling to go away. But the sharp ringing of the alarm forces you to rise against your wishes. You don't look at yourself when you shower, but the small glimpse of skin you catch in the mirror makes bile burn the back of your throat. Usually you're proud of your torso and the muscles you've built, but all you can think now as you put on the tight fitting army shirt is how wrong it looks on you. You try to pull on the front a couple of times in an attempt to make it baggier around your chest, before just putting on a jacket regardless that it's the middle of summer.

Recruit duty makes a bad day even worse, adding a headache alongside the discomfort and anxiety that straddle your brain. You hate how snappy and agitated you are with them, running them through grueling drills until they regret being born and have probably called you every name under the sun in their heads. The all collapse when you're finally finished with them, stepping away from them. The day's heat made you sweat like a pig, another round of bile burning the back of your throat at how your clothes stick to you.

You flinch back when a hand grabs your shoulder, quickly whirling around to look who it is with a sharp retort burning on your tongue, only to fizzle out when you're met with Price's face.

Your name sounds so right when he says it, the scent of tobacco curling in your nose as he steps closer to you, wing stretching out to subtly hang over you. "What's going on lad?" Price asks, his voice low, like taking a sip of cool water.

The question makes you hesitate, unable to meet his gaze so you fixate on counting the little chips in the concrete floor. "Just one of those days." You grunt, your voice hoarse and scratchy from belting orders all day.

Price hums in thought and then you feel his wing bump against your back, "Follow me soldier." The deep timber of his voice silences some of the dark thoughts crooning in your ears, and you're helpless to do anything but follow after him like a lost lamb. He leads you back to his room (that you haunt most nights), the place blessedly cool and dark compared to the heat outside.

The second the door closes and locks he pulls you in close, wrapping his steady arms around you and pushing your face into the pillowy bosom of his pecs. You struggle for a moment out of pure instinct, but a single call of your name makes you stop like a puppet on cut strings. He repeats your name like a caress, rolling every syllable on his tongue as his chest rumbles with a deep purr.

You melt into him, nuzzling your nose into the deep valley of his pecs and breathing in his smell. He's more intoxicating than any drug you know; beneath the scents of tobacco, dark coffee, and manly musk there's always something that your mind associates with freshly cut grass and rain on dry gravel — Comfort.

"You're so smart and clever." He croons, resting his chin on top of yours, one hand tracing the curve of your back. "But by god are you a dumb muppet." There's no edge to his words, you don't even think of fighting his admonishments. "How many times have I told you to come to me if you feel like this?"

Too many times, to be honest. You're stubborn if nothing else, you always think you can handle this on your own, you don't want to burden him whenever your mind decides to be a dick to you. "I'm sorry." You mumble into his shirt, your hands slowly wrapping around his thick waist. It always does your head in how your fingers can't quite meet in the middle of his back with how broad he is, muscle and fat shifting beneath your hands.

"Sure you are." He tuts, evidently not believing you for a second. But he doesn't pull away, tail loosely wrapping around your leg and his scent and heat enveloping you, his chest vibrating against your face. "Going to let me take care of my boy, aren't you?" The way he phrases it makes it sound like a statement, and you're unable to resist it.

Your mouth goes dry, your body stuck between wanting more and abhorring any more physical contact. But you nod your head, grumbling something probably nonsensical. And any other day you'd laugh your ass off about the fact you're practically motorboating him, but not today. Today you barely have any energy left to think.

"That's my boy." He purrs, clawed fingers gently scratching your scalp. "Shower?" He asks.

You pause, trying to string together a tangible thought. You doubt you could handle that, not with how dark and heavy your head feels. "No." You croak and nuzzle further into his chest in an attempt to hide.

"S'alright, I'm proud of you." He hums, still holding you close as he shuffles across the room with you blindly following him. "Let's get you out of those sweaty clothes, yeah?" Getting a single nod from you, he starts to slowly take off your clothes, pulling back just enough to distract you with sweet kisses. You try to help in taking his clothes off, but you feel about as useful as a small child helping his parents cook, getting a few chuckles from him.

You wind up gently pushed down on your back, spread across his bed that smells just like him and naked as the day you were born. Before the discomfort can make you shy away and try to cover yourself, he's settling down next to you, claws scraping against your jaw as he pulls you into a slow kiss. You swear you can always taste a bit of eternity every time he kisses you, so unhurried like you'll last as long as him.

"Look at you." He hums as you part, his hands sliding down your shoulders and arms to your hips. "My handsome boy." He tilts his head to kiss all over your face, trailing his lips from your brows to your eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin to wherever else he can reach. His beard is soft against your skin, evidently he'd used that beard care product you'd given him. "So strong and capable. My strong knight."

That gets the first vestige of a chuckle out of you. "Does that mean I get to lay the dragon?" You ask, your lips tugging into a small smirk. You've made that joke god knows how many times, but despite his gripes, Price loves it.

"Cheeky wanker." He huffs, his cool clawed fingers trailing along the curve of your muscles up your torso. "Later, if you're good."

A low sound escapes you when his thumbs brush the even scars beneath your pecs. "Good?" He asks, waiting for you to nod before tilting his head down, horns gently poking your skin for a second before he starts kissing along your scars. His touch is gentle like you're a precious treasure in his hoard, his lips velvet soft against the rough scar tissue. Every brush of his lips makes your skin tingle like a live wire, fire simmering in the place he kisses as he trails from one side to the other, laying equal attention on every inch of your scars.

It's pleasant. Beyond pleasant. It leaves your chest feeling so warm and full like your heart will burst through your ribcage.

You feel like a melted puddle of goo by the time he pulls away to kiss you on the lips again. You don't struggle as he lays down on his side and pulls you to him. A pleased sigh escapes you as you feel his wing drape over you like a blanket, tail curling around one of your legs and arms wrapping around your waist; like he's making sure you can't escape (not that you'd want to.)

Dragons are strange, the scales cool against your skin but his core is hot like a furnace, the duality of it calming your mind. "How are you feeling lad?" He asks, the low timber of his voice vibrating his chest.

You hum and nuzzle into his pecs, the ample chest hair tickling your face. "Better." You grunt, blindly kissing what inch of flesh you can reach. You can't keep your hands from wandering, petting the dark hair of his happy trail as your other hand traces the scales on his side. "Could feel better with a bit more attention though."

A snort leaves him, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You're insatiable." His words would be a lot more insulting if his chest didn't vibrate with a continuous purr, his tail tightening for a second before relaxing.

"You're to blame." You feel better as the words leave you, your chest light as a feather as you get to share a small laugh with him.

"Get some rest, my boy," You hum, your eyelids already starting to feel heavy as you feel him nuzzle his cheek into your hair. You don't doubt the whole base will be able to smell him on you tomorrow. "We'll see about laying dragons later."

"I love you." You murmur into his flesh, his pecs becoming the world's best pillow as you nuzzle closer. You stay awake just long enough to hear him murmur his love for you in your ear.

[smokeysweater]

I vote for roommate into spouse John pleeeaaaassseeee I am begging 🙏

holy shit my first ever goddamn ask and it’s about Yandere obsessed john price, this is hilarious, I’ll give everyone a little more thought put into that idea than (sorry for using your ask lmao) It started when you, were kicked out by your shitty ex boyfriend, yeah typical, who would’ve thought not to trust a man who spent his all of his money on his sneaker collection rather than you? so now, basically, you were homeless, or living at a friends house, which ever was available at the time. And than, you saw an advert, for a roommate, saying he was an older male, didn’t come to the house much but would pay rent on time yada yada. anyone who wouldn’t accept that advert is insane and needs to be checked into a psych ward, was the thought that was prominent in your mind. so, things happen, and miraculously, without meeting you, john accepts the deal, and the very next day you move into the house, and low and behold you thought you met a Greek god who turned human just to mess with you. A tall man with a gruff face, body built like a man who lived in the woods all his life chopping trees, actively holding a cigar as he greets you. Handing you a sheet of what you need to pay and the general house rules, before explaining in a deep smooth tone that he won’t be home a lot due to his job, but to just keep everything nice and tidy sweetheart. and by god, are you so glad that your boyfriend broke up with you. here is the masterlist

[luci4theminorannoyance]

price x trans ftm reader who started transitioning later in life? like just thinking... they served a tour or two together before reader transitioned. had a little fling going on, potentially on the way towards more. but after whatever mission/tour theyre on is over, reader slowly stops keeping in contact with price.

years down the line, the reunite during some sort of mission. price recognizes readers last name or callsign but the face he's met with is different. this man is happier.

price and reader get to talking in some downtime and decide that once this is all over (the mission they're on), they'll try and take some time together to make up for all the time they'd lost together. and price gets to meet the real you.

a/n: aww this idea is so sweet

Price:

-price had missed you in all secrecy, wondering where you where, what happened to you, where you went? He had moved on quite a bit of course, years had passed. But he still thought of you when he saw things you used to like or talk about late in the nights

-he hadn’t expected to see you on his latest mission, half knocking you over by accident when he was carrying supplies, looking you up and down. He always knew something was about you, but you looked much better when you were happy in your body, so much more confidence, so much… hotter? Not in the odd way, but still

-he invites you to the bar the following night off the mission and you talk and talk about life, what happened, what changed, him being quite a bit happier then he had in about a month.

[yanderestarangel]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ SMUT CAKE'S EVENT — EDITION: ANGEL’S BIRTHDAY || BY: @yanderestarangel

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ★ I have a birthday and you are the one who gets the present 〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

– From august 18th there will be posts celebrating my birthday; They will all be posted on the same day!!

!!WARNING!! this event contains content that is sensitive to some people, check the TW's before reading.

PS: I was supposed to post this earlier; But I'm sick and have a bad cold... So I'm sorry ;)

— strawberry cake || ghost, könig, captain price || romantic edition ᯓ★ headcanons

♡ ┆TW: body worship, romantic sex, use of lingerie, ftm reader, v!sex, anal sex, blowjob, praise, daddykink, age gap, fluff.

— vanilla cake || albert wesker || sensitive s/o ᯓ★ headcanons

♡ ┆TW: mild sadism, ftm reader, fingering, exhibitionism, overstimulation, sex toys, degradation, aggressive sex...+

— cinnamon cake || new!noob saibot || “together in khaos” ᯓ★ smut

♡ ┆TW : ftm reader, fingering, v!sex, penetration, afab anatomy, use of his saibot to stimulate the reader, creampie +...

— pudding cake || adler russell || “return” ᯓ★ headcanons

♡ ┆TW: soft sex, mlm, ftm reader, v!sex, praise kink, foreplay +..

[a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5]

Yes I'm hinting at another thing I don't know where all this crazy motivation is coming from but I like it

Seahorse dad reader

Not enough of that in general with anyone

I know it's definitely not for everyone, I'm fairly confident most trans men would not want to carry children

But dammit it's my blog and I'm letting myself indulge more

It's bringing a light back into my writing that I didn't know I'd never had and it frankly feels fucking great

[killmeprettypleasee]

Price x Ftm!lieutenant!Reader general dating hcs pls and tyy

Dating headcanons W/ John Price.

Warning: SFW AND NSFW mentioned, clingy price, mentions of killing someone, slightly possessive Price, switch Price and switch reader.

SFW

Before you and Price started dating, the two of you are already close friends, you two joined the military together and trained together back then before you guys are in your current ranks.

He is very sweet to you and supports you being a trans person.

He found out you were trans waaaayyyy back then, and the way he reacts was kinda random..

"Wait.. so your one of those transformers robots????" He looked at you dumbfounded as he scanned the surgery scars on your chest.

He was very confused.. but still supports you!

When someone was being toxic to you he WILL and not hesitate to unalive them.

He loves you too much see😭

He'll give them the coldest death stared making their bones quiver in fear.

He will cuddle you, and be hella clingy.

Imagine.

You both at the halls of the base and he's just hugging you, not caring if anyone is watching.

He would call you to his office to just hold you and have you sit on his lap.

Hell, every once i a while he'll make you skip training just to have you there with him..

He will never let you out of his sight.

NEVER.

You're his sunshine afterall, his Marshmellow to the hot cocoa, his sauce to the spaghetti, his peach to the eggplant (okay thats just weird..)

When you're both at home, he wouldn't let you go out to buy groceries and insisted that he should be the one buying.

He's just scared because he overthinks that someone will kidnap you.

He doesn't even care if you know self-defense 💀

When both of you go out on a date he'll take you out to the beautiful restaurants ever, but he rather keep it simply

He'll even buy you beautiful clothes to match your date.

One time both of you went to a Chinese sea food restaurant that serves raw and fresh sea food.

He bought himself those tentacles cus he wanna try them out.

End up sticking to his face.

Both of you gotta go to the doctor cus the tentacles suction wont let go.

He was traumatized and both of you never went to those fresh sea food restaurant.

NSFW

After ever date there should a spicy intimate time with him.

He would bend you over when you both in your car or at your house.

Just somewhere private where both of you could fuck.

He loves dominating you, but sometimes he also likes it when you're the one dominating him

He likes it when you overstimulate him till he's a whining mess when you're taking the lead.

You just loos so sexy ontop him while riding his cock while calling him a good boy.

It makes his cock twitch when you do that.

And the way you moan just sends him over the edge.

But when he's the one in control he would bend you over doggy style and hit your prostate head on with his tip.

He absolutely loves when you moan out his name.

Its just so cute.

He likes raw sex.

He wanna make sure to mark your insides aswell your body to show who you belong.

He loves it when your cunt squeezed his cock.

He'll call you a good boy for that.

When both of you are more on the romantic side he'll be gentle and loving with you.

He'll caressed your body and worship you.

He loves touching your scars btw.

He thinks its fascinating.

"God baby.. you're so damn beautiful.. such a handsome boy eh?.." He softly praised against your ear as he touched your scars.

He grunted when your cunt tightened around him.

"You're getting so tight around me baby boy.. such a good boy huh?"

Yeh...

He sometimes think about having a child with you sometimes.

This man has an extreme breeding kink...

Sometimes he'll rub your lower belly while he's fucking you cunt, whispering praises while he day dream of getting you pregnant.

He's glad you have a cunt ngl.

He could just impregnate you anytime..

But you're still a soldier and you still wanna keep the job so he respects that.

He'll wait when he's allowed to Impregnate you.

But he wont stop fucking you raw.

Sooo you have no choice but to go on birth control🤷.

[gofishygo]

price x trans ftm reader who started his transition later in life? like just thinking... they served a tour or two together before reader transitioned. had a little fling going on, potentially on the way towards more. but after whatever mission/tour theyre on is over, reader slowly stops keeping in contact with price.

years down the line, the reunite during some sort of mission. price recognizes readers last name or callsign but the face he's met with is different. this man is happier.

price and reader get to talking in some downtime and decide that once this is all over (the mission they're on), they'll try and take some time together to make up for all the time they'd lost together. and price gets to meet the real you.

[PRIDE MONTH- WEEK ONE] : through green hydrangeas (my heart lies) price x ftm reader (part 1/2)

notes : (somewhat innacurate) descriptions of military, injury, brief outlines of smut (no explicits mentioned), gender dysphoria, reader gets outed towards the end. this may be edited later on.

wc- 1.8k

urzikistan- take down six targets aligned with al quatala, all terrorist backgrounds. a mission where location and timing and team were everything, pointed into maps and plotted into files, handled with fine-cut secrecy, knife-point precision, landed directly into price's aged hands. And now, at the final stretch, he'd been handed a few recruits at his expense. Fought with laswell against them, argued that his team could run through the enemy.

(and by god, how can he focus on the task at hand when he sees the shine in that operator's eyes, the curvature of his face? warm and familiar, the mother's milk suckled by a pup.)

It’s odd, having to work with a man so similar to her. narrowed eyes and sharp teeth, even sharing the same gun hed swore he gifted her- considers for a moment that maybe she’d changed, now baring a different name on id’s and passports, records crossed out and scrawled over. stole her last name as well, and before he’d even met you, he had already considered asking laswell to ship you off to whatever pmc would accept you.

but at the same time, he bites his tongue, wire muzzle to some refectory dog.

you seem to truly be alive, words barked with flame, spilled from your stomach, full-toothed smile instead of the sleazy grin she wore. you are her and aren’t her- and sometimes, maybe, he lets himself think youre better. sweeter. hates the way he still gives you the same greeting as he did to that woman, selfishly using a subordinate to fill out some cavity in his chest. but he can’t have it any other way, doesn’t want to have it in any other way.

a world where slowing down didn’t mean stopping. had a nice ring to it.

-

it's 0400 on the day of deployment. there's brittle crust in the ducts of your eyes that you hadn't been able to wash of in the changerooms, and now you are holding onto gun and hanging onto the sky by plane, listening to the clicks as you load and unload the magazines. missions like these, capture-kills with enemies that outdid your measures of brutality and lived for the beliefs of bloodshed in liberty; they weigh in your chest, some layers of adrenal fear smuggled under the layers of methodical, stoical behaviour. the buzzing headache that never left as a child, the feel of pressure wrapped around crevices of the cerebellum, tightening.

in these plights, you'd used to knock on price's door, hands itching to roll into fist- turning the fear you'd guide like a shepherd into the spit in stout-littered kisses, how you pulled off his clothes like the vulture to a corpse. the way your body moved against his was the nicotine you'd smoke on long nights. it was sickening, at first, how much control that you revelled in, the way that his name had found its place under your tongue. the way that he grabbed at the bone in your hips, worshipping, devotee. taken to his body like addict to a drug, the dissociation between you heart and the fat-filled mounds on your chest washed out by lust. he makes it feel like the ache was never there, that you could scream with the voice that had been trapped beneath high-strung vocal cords, unfortunate biology. and you let yourself beg to god; why, oh god why, why were you given a body at the cost of your life?

but now, navigating through some twisted buildings under the cover of night, clearing rooms in the hotel, you know that you're changed. the revelation behind the woman beneath price's sheets all those years ago, who'd stolen your skin and your eyes and your face- it could cost you your life, could have you shunned and dying like a dog on the streets. and yet, you still hold a weary head up and dream about-

Johnathan price. he still festered in your ribcage, face slipped away into the back of your skull, the bug you'd yet to squish as you drive military blade into an enemy's neck and muffle their mouth through dying thrashes. He nods, gruff sound muted behind mutton chops, murmuring an audible 'clear' through the fizzle of comms. And you let yourself wonder, if maybe those prismarine eyes can find yourself in the body now known as home. (He swears that your smile matches the woman he'd fell for through sparring matches and facebook posts. that old face he'd barely managed to blot out with cigars and whiskey and downed with bourbon and-) your team proceeds down the hallways,

‘all stations on right wing, target four is down. I repeat, target four is down. zero KIA.’ and your mouth quirks up a little. ‘deems that Ghost’s aim still doesn’t fail,” you muse. His eyebrow raises- only slightly- at the tense of your words. still.

“certainly doesn’t,” and you want to drink the strain in his voice until its ache is gone.

another few minutes of clearing the building. the repetitions of breaking open the same doors with the same crowbars, gun peeking through the side of the frame. So similar, practiced in recon and real-world situations, yet never being comfortable, safe. it’s almost automatic at this point, reducing your phycology to nothing more than the gun that you wield- deciding, acting. but looking over at price- the look in his eyes know’s you’d been injured. Bubbling fire deep in your marrow, fear bittering the air around you; foul, unappetising, yet it feels the captain wants to swallow you whole.

-

and now it rips through you- feels like your insides are pouring out, scrap of kidney and intestine pooling out at the starburst entry point. some pained shriek ripped out of your throat. at one point, you waited next to the doorframe of a room, (sixty-four left wing, is it?) and the next, some enemy operator had opened a hole in your stomach.

whatever moment between that is an animated blur, dismal and discoloured where sound pools in your ears instead of song. a captain- your captain, tackling the man to the ground in a double-leg-takedown, throwing down the gun at their side, the high wail of shots fired ringing into your ear while a teammate -the milky white patch on her face makes you assume it might be nova- drags you behind the wall as cover, your teammates taking position to cover for price, but also rip through the inhabitants of the room. and for the first time in the mission, you let fear curdle in your throat alongside the blood clinging to it’s walls, drip into your bloodstream and bury itself into bone. cant tell if the shadow hazing your thoughts is the predecessor death or subdued panic finally breaking though it’s confines . and you find it bitter, stupid, wholly in your heart, that even as your stomach spills onto the floor of a home that wasn’t yours, that part of your brain still festers. a possibility that the only man who could make your heart beat- john price, and his affair with the woman who’d stolen your soul and locked it behind flesh. Letting out some bitter laugh, feeling blood trace your lips whilst some stray bullet manages to hit the skull of an enemy, heard by the ungodly gurgle and tear of bullet through flesh, confirmed by the hum of your comms. “target two on left wing down, one broken-” price, now next to you, lets hard eyes settle against your form, dying star. “-seems to need medic.” another voice fizzles to life on the radio- laswell’s, you presume. “team delta, split to d1-d2. d1 continue to clear left wing, d2 head to rendezvous point.”

you can only really groan, blood bubbling to your throat when price hauls you to face his side, hissing out some curse as you hold shaky hand to where the blood seems to be leaking from. “easy there soilder-“ john grunts, wrenching your hand out of the way with a firm grip- a bear gripping her cub the scruff of it’s neck, holding it so tenderly between her teeth. one of your other teammates- cant identify them, head too filled up with adrenaline filled cloud and the haze to blood loss to register their shape- seems to toss over a roll of bandages. and if you had breath left, you would have barked out some half-assed remark about how strategically awful it was to tear off the gear and pull off the shirt of your uniform, but the nerves of the paled scars below your chest being revealed to cold air had your mouth shut, jaws locked, like wired muzzle to a dog. trying not to choke on the blood and jerk away when his eyes meet the placement of the wound.

it's diasporic, shaped like a dying star above you tattoo you’d had engraved deep into your dermis all those years ago. the 141’s old symbol- jagged sword without the skull, olive branches extending through its frame. a part of you far more distinctive, more tolerable to remember than thought of the girl who had decided to have it etched into her skin. And now your captain can see both of those on you- in you- and shamefully, you let lurid fear bite into you, thoughts snapping with teeth, breaking down the glass bars that composed the cage you made. Price may never kiss that tattoo again during the long nights, now look at the memories you’d made with a lens tinted by hatred. “nice to put a name to the face,”

he murmurs, wrapping the bandage to compress the wound, once, twice, thrice around your waist. Hauls your arm around his shoulder and begins the trek to the rendezvous point. one arm was pressed just above where he knew your tattoo rested, no mind to whatever blood trickles in the cracks of his fingers. “ill see you back at burningham, love,” its like your submerged in water now, eyes blurry with seawater and ears deafened by the tide filling their crevices. with the last of your energy, you tug yourself towards price, fingers tangled in his, doubling over and feeling the bandages settle under the layer of fat and muscle on your ribs. letting yourself dream of him for what seems to be your last time, fingers tangled together, pretending that your gasps for air were nothing more than laughter echoes against crashing waves on british shores, letting fresh saltwater air tangle you hair and travel your windpipe.

by the time the captain scoops you up, you’re far too deep in oceanwater, back against rocky seafloor. “stand strong, soldier,” and even through his gruff voice, you still notice the way it almost begs, song of prayer tucked away deep in his voicebox . some words he had hidden. price pulls you closer with his arm, fingers clawed and desperate, and the world crashes against you all at once.

[struckd0wn]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓: 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲- 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞

Captain Price had taken you under his wing at request of Laswell. You were just a private, new to the world of working as a soldier but Laswell saw something in you, something she knew John could nurture.

Price didn't pay you much mind at first, helping you train and answering any questions you had. After a month or so is when his feelings for you changed.

First when he took you out for a long range weapons lesson. He watched you as you layed on the ground, aiming your weapon at the targets the two for you had set up. His eyes gravitated twords your ass, finding himself pleased with the way your pants hugged the curve.

Then when you practiced hand to hand combat. You wore a white t-shirt and some loose shorts, the fabric stuck to your figure. Mid session you had poured some water over your head to cool off, the water wet you shirt, making it see through. The rest of the time you trained he found it increasingly hard to not just fuck you on the mat right there.

The shirt you wore clung to you, revealing your collar bone and some of your chest to him. Each time you'd go in to fight he hold his breath, grabbing your waist in his large hands to pull you down onto the floor. John's heart raced as you wrapped your legs around him, flipping over so now he was under you, effectively straddling him. He could barley contain himself as you huffed over him, catching your breath as you steadied yourself with your hands on his abs.

Price couldn't get you out of his head, sitting in his office, unable to get any paperwork done. Eventually he gave up, standing abruptly from his desk chair, leaving his office to find you. It was early morning around 2am, most soldiers would probably be asleep at this time. John didn't care, he knew you'd answer to him.

He found your room, banging on the door, waiting for you to answer. You shot out of bed immediately, rushing to open your door. You thought it might be an emergency, not even think about how you only had your underwear on. You opned your door to see the Captain standing there, wearing a t-shirt and some jeans. "Captain Price? What's going on?"

John was on you within an instant, grabbing at you bare waist, pushing you further into your room while shutting the door behind him. His hands slide down you sides, fingers almost breaching the band of your underwear. John's lips smash into yours, tongue darting out to shove down your throat.

The back of your knees meet the edge of your bed, John pushes you down against it. He left wet sloppy kisses on your stomach, trailing up to your chest, then neck. "I trust you won't tell anybody about this," Price whispers lowly into your ear while unbuckling his jeans. "We wouldn't want you to get in any sorta trouble, would we?" He asks, hand sliding down the front of your boxers, fingers running through you folds. To his excitement you're already leaking for him, pulling out his hard cock, stroking it with his unoccupied hand.

John slowly pulls down your boxers. You whince at the feeling of the fabric brushing against your sensitive t-dick. He rubs his hard cock along yours, teasingly pushing the tip into your pussy. "Fuck you're so wet already, how long have you been waiting for this?" He asks you, looking you in your eyes

You hide your embarrassed face from your captain. "Since that night Laswell introduced me to you..." You admit. The confession makes him smile, his cock finally slipping into you with ease. Your moan is muffled by your hand, and although John would love to hear you, he didn't want the other to.

The captain is ruthless with his thrusts, holding your legs against your chest as he fucks into you. He watches his length push in and out of you, groaning as his cock is covered in your wetness. "You slut, dreaming about your captain fucking you. How many times did you get off to the thought of me touching you?" He teases, watching your blissed out face from above. "Dose it feel better than you imagined? 'Cause hell, you feel about 10x better then I could have ever thought." Prices hisses through his teeth, nails digging into you thighs. You nod your head stupidly, going dumb on his cock. You can feel each vein drag along your wall, the curve of it pushing into you g spot.

"Yes sir, it feel..it feels good. Please keep going." You beg. Price obliges, hammering into, the both of you nearing orgasm.

"Yeah baby,that's it. Take my cock you little slut." He rambles on. Your legs shake and you come undone, spraying you liquids all over his cock and lower abdomen. The captain pulls out of you, letting your legs go before releasing his hot cum all over your stomach.

[waffles-art-writing]

Platonic!Task Force 141 X Medic!FtM!Reader

——————————-

Summary: You just wanted a quiet evening to fill out paper work, but you get a surprise visit by the team. They say you’re just like your brother, Price talks to you after you stitch up the boys.

Proofread: Yes when I was half asleep :) - so not really

Pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 x Medic! FtM!Reader

WordCount: IDK

Age Rating: 15+ preferably

Codename: Stitch

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: swearing, light description of injury, normal COD talk, banter, yelling, pissed off reader. Reader is Trans!

Request: YES! Thank you so much!

—————————

You tap your pen on your desk as you read over numerous files, all of them stating similar words to many questions. One of the younger medics is cleaning up the medical wing while you have locked yourself away in your office, shutting the world out as you pinch the bridge of your nose. You drop the pen on the dark oak desk, grabbing the files and storming out of the office, you are reading over a particular file in hand. Written in messy chicken scratch on the patient sheet is ‘Sergeant Mactavish’ and ‘Sergeant Garrick’ . You know them both, well. Too well in fact, yet they don’t know too much about you. You’ve patched them both and the rest of the 141 far too many times for you to count.

Price recruited you for your skills with field medicine, you weren’t always a medic. You were once in communication, but your brother convinced you to become a medic when he showed you some tips and tricks. Which you ate up like a starved animal. You never knew how much this would help further your career in the military, especially after witnessing the tragedy that has left a deep wound in your heart for the rest of your life.

You rip open the curtain that conceals a bed fromt he rest of the medical ward. Your hands clutch the papers in hand, arms crossing over your chest. “What the fuck did you do?” You sneer, your voice low as you eye the two sergeants, Ghost is watching from the side, Price next to him with a small smirk. “Oh hey doc!” Soap cheers, trying to keep you from blowing a fuse. Gaz is sitting there quietly, his hand clutching the side of his arm. “The first patient file I picked up is yours, Mactavish! And you have the heart to include Garrick on this horribly written excuse of a reason as to WHY! You both have either a bullet or knife in your arms!?” You yell, your voice cracking slightly as you growl at them both. Ghost is silently thanking whatever god is out there, that he’s not the one being scolded this time round.

“And YOU!” You spit, pointing at Price and Ghost with the papers, your hold on the flimsy sheets causing them to crumple. “You left them unsupervised?! How idiotic are you guys!?” You slap the papers down on the side table, grabbing some gloves out of their box from the wall. Pulling them on, you're seething. “I’m sorry Stitch… we didn’t mean to actually get hurt…” Gaz quietly mumbles as he looks at you from the other side of the Soap. They are both seated on the edge of the medical bed, Gaz by the foot do the bed, Soap up by the head of the bed.

You grit your teeth as you turn around. You’re slightly shorter than all the men in the room, not by much, but still shorter. Price can see how much like your twin brother you are, the same concern when it comes to caring for the team, the same rage that fuels you when someone has done something idiotic. “It’s fine… No, actually it's not! It’s not fine! You’re both grown men for Christ's sake, you both gotta learn how to stop being children.” You huff out as you stand in front of Gaz, he’s the one that got clipped by the bullet on his bicep. Your touch is soft when you work on cleaning the injury. “Look Lad, we didn’t mean to-” Soap goes quiet when you stare at him out of the corner of your eye. “You have the same look as your brother…” Soap states.

They all knew your brother, he was one of the field medics that helped them in the past on a few missions and especially when they got back. They always went to him for his help, but when the chopper got shot down that he was in, they couldn’t find anyone else they could trust to come on the missions. That is until they found out he had a twin, Price knew of you, he promised to your brother to help you through everything. He was one of the main supporters to help you through your transition, even teaching you how to shave. Which was an experience and half. Many small cuts on your jaw…

“Yeah well, I am his twin after all Mactavish” You huff, gently applying gauze to Gaz’s arm and wrapping it securely in a bandage. “Thank’s” Gaz states quietly, you nod as you change the gloves to a clean pair to start working on Soap. Price is talking to them both, Ghost adding a few things here and there while you just quietly work on stitching up the Scotsman’s arm. You securely stitch up the wound, giving Gaz his knife back after cleaning it. “Now, you two gotta stop doing stupid shit.” You growl as you finish wrapping Soap’s arm. He nods his thanks as he moves his arm around a little, a small wince forming.

“Take pain meds every four hours, on the hour… You don’t want to be chasing the pain like you always do…” you sigh, cleaning up the area. They all nod their thanks, taking the pain meds from you one their way out. Price stops just shy of the door. You turn to look at him, you notice he's staring at you. “Price?” Your voice is quiet, you feel like there's something on your face.

Price walks over, his hand coming up to your jaw. He’s noticed something, definitely. “Be more careful with that razor kid. Don’t wanna slice your neck open next time…” he sighs, his thumb running over the irritated wound on the underside of your jaw. How the hell did he notice that? You don’t have a clue, other than he just knows. “Yeah, I know… one of the rookies slammed open the bathroom door so I got spooked is all…” you chuckles lightly, shrugging as Price just smiles, shaking his head lightly. “You’ve done good kid… your brother would be proud.” He states, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Thanks… He would be happy to know I can still put the boys in their place even as a guy.” You laugh, Price chuckles along with you, he turns to leave. “You know where to find me if you need something, kid, see you at the debrief tomorrow at O-Six-Hundred.” He says over his shoulder, leaving you with a wave. You nod as you turn to walk back to your office, your hand subconsciously coming up to touch the small cut. You’re happy you have Price there for you, the team doesn’t seem to mind at all about your transition, if they even know anything about it that is.

Overall, working for the 141 has its highs and lows, but you still love them even if they drive you up the walls mad.

[delta-06]

Kinktober request closed!!

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[pfhwrittes]

riffing off the poll i reblogged re: your blorbos doing top surgery. so these are some vague headcannons on how the members of tf141 would look after a reader post top surgery.

pairings: gaz x reader, soap x reader, simon x reader (romantic), john price & reader (platonic).

warnings: gaz refers to reader as babe and calls the reader handsome.

note: i’ve written this reader to be a trans man but can be read as anyone who wants top surgery. also i am firmly in the camp that you DON’T have to have surgery to be considered transgender or to have your gender respected. fuck knows it’s a hard enough process here in the UK, i can’t imagine my healthcare being stuck behind what is essentially a paywall.

gaz would be a sweetheart. he’d get you drinks and painkillers. he’d move your cushions/pillows around as much as you wanted. he’d pretend not to see when you burst into tears over pain/relief/a weird sense of mourning and fear. he’d even help you to the bathroom and linger outside the door (unlocked, he’d insist on it being unlocked) in case you need help with anything. the man gets your favourite takeaway and doesn’t make a fuss when you only eat a little bit of it because you’re feeling a bit nauseous from the meds you’re on. checks on your drains and dressings and soothes you when you catch sight of the swelling. he reassures you with forehead and cheek kisses when you’re upset and reassures you with a gentle babe you’re so handsome and brave, i can’t wait for you to show off your chest when you’re feeling better.

price would handle it from a more professional perspective (i am not saying reader would be in the military but i am saying that the man deals with paperwork most of the time anyway so he’d handle it for your work). he’s already sent off copies of your medical note from the surgeon, he’s filled in the paperwork to get sick pay. less hands on than gaz (but that’s only because i can’t see price with a trans man in a romantic or sexual way) so he doesn’t overstep but as your friend he’ll bring you food if you ask and painkillers too. checks in with you and sends you book recommendations, music recommendations and the occasional meme (don’t try to tell me he wouldn’t send you memes. that man is a millennial he knows what a fucking meme is) when you’re well enough to complain about being bored.

simon would be kind of a dick about it. listen i don’t make the rules but he would. he’s supportive enough. he’d give you a ride back from the hospital and get you to wherever is the most comfortable but he’s a bit shit at looking after you (the man has no practice outside of emergency medical care). you’d have to text him to get you a drink or painkillers. healthy nutritious food? no. what flavour pot noodle do you want? never mind you’re getting a bombay bad boy because that’s all he’s got in the cupboard. emotionally he’s not great at expressing how he’s feeling about your recovery so he comes across as gruff but that’s mostly because he’s repressing a whole bunch of trauma and fear that things won’t go well. he won’t touch you apart from holding your hand when you ask because he’s worried he’ll mess up your stitches but still it comes across as a bit cold.

soap the darling man is just so fucking excited for you. it’s a bit much actually while you’re still recovering and yeah you end up snapping and it hurts his feelings a little but he’ll try to play it off as not a big deal. he’s just so happy for you (and for himself because he cannot wait to get his hands on you now that you’ll let him because your chest is the way you want it)! super affectionate, peppers you with kisses all over your face. he’s similar to gaz in that he’s all about making you as comfortable as possible and tries to preempt any requests you have (gets you bottles of water and can of irn-bru because that’s what he always wants when he’s feeling under the weather, grabs you as many snacks as you want). unlike gaz he’s enough of a freak to insist on being in the bathroom with you when you need to go, he says it’s to make sure you’re safe but he’s definitely using it as an excuse to touch you as much as possible until you’re fully healed up.