#reader x captain man

[coraline-jones353]

I would like a x reader oneshot request on Ray Manchester/Captain Man ❤️ from Henry Danger !

The true parents meeting

Heyy y'all quick thing please I beg you all, add some information with your request 😭. It's hard enough to find time to write but finding time to brain storm an idea?? Crazy long.

Also oh my goodness this is I think my first request?!??

Ray x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, hating on Henry's parents (ngl they sucked and that's a hill I'll die on)

Summary: At Henry's graduation party Y/n, his god mom comes to his party from out of town. Henry comes in late to his party and ofc his parents aren't worried, but Ray and Y/n are. Henry seizes the moment to get his actual parents off his back and to make them both happy, together.

Y/n is Henry's god mom, she attends everything and I mean everything, his kindergarten graduation? She's there. Birthdays? There. Christmas? There

She's good friends with Henry's mother. When her friend broke down crying saying she doesn't want a baby Y/n even offered to adopt the kid after she had given birth. That obviously didn't happen but she did get offered the position of God mother, meaning if something were to happen to her friend and husband then she would take care of Henry and Piper.

I had flown in for Henry's graduation party and of course to watch him graduate. I had just flown in from California on a business trip. I am absolutely exhausted and need a ride to the Hart's house where I will be staying for a week to catch up with them.

Of course the Hart's were busy so I took an Uber to their house. I arrive in about 10 minutes and am so excited to see my kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I open the door expecting Piper and Henry to be on the other side but I am met with an empty house. I look around before deciding to just call Henry and see where he is.

"Hey Hen, where are you guys? I made it to your house but none of you are here." I say into my phone, rather annoyed. "Oh shoot, I forgot you were coming today, I'm at work right now and Piper is spending the day with one of her friends at the mall. I bet you're tired from your plane ride so just take a nap and I'll be home in 3 hours or so, ok?" Henry says at a pretty fast pace sounding almost out of breath. "Well ok I'll see you then kiddo." I say hanging up the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After his graduation me, him, and piper had tons of bonding time. I took them to the movies, zoo, aquarium, I even took them out to eat multiple times. I told them about my adventures I've had since last year and asked about their life. Separately I asked Henry about his superhero life, he couldn't hide that from me after my second visit after he became a hero.

This time though it wouldn't just be a visit, Henry decided to give up being a superhero for a while and live with me and travel when needed. He had gotten a job at the same company I work at so this worked out great.

The parties in 1 hour and I'm helping with the decorations and getting Henry ready for his big night.

Just then this absolutely dazzling man walks into the venue. " Uh, excuse me sir, I just have to check if you're invited. The party doesn't even start for about an hour." I say looking at the clock. "Ray Manchester, at your service darling. I'm here to help set up for the party I'm Henry's boss." He says with the brightest and flashiest smile.

I feel my insides melt, that wonderful smile. I gotta ask him what toothpaste he uses geesh. "I'm Y/n Henry's god mom." I say shaking his hand and pointing him over to the streamers that need to be put up.

Later in the night people start arriving but we're just missing one person. Where the fuck is Henry?!?

Just as my phone goes to his voicemail he walks into the venue. I storm over to him getting ready to blow up but Ray is over there before I even took two steps.

"Where were you Henry" Ray said with a stern expression as I stood next to him cornering Henry. "Jasper had this bucket he wanted to get at the medieval fair and he didn't wanna go alone." Henry says seemingly out of breath. "That is no excuse you could have been in danger and we wouldn't have known!" I yell at him.

After scolding Henry he asked me and Ray to be in charge of the Chinese auction. Throughout the party Henry had been doing little things to get Ray and Y/n to talk. First asking if I want punch and telling Ray to get me and him a cup. Then saying that were so alike and asking Ray to show off his muscles to me, which he did happily. Then at the end of the party he asked us both to help clean up.

"This was a great party, thanks guys." Henry says pulling us on for a group hug. He then asks to talk to Ray alone pulling him into a corner.

"Dude, ask her out." he says as he pushes Ray's arm teasingly. "But she lives outta town and I can't leave." "Then have a long distance relationship but you won't know if you don't try." Henry pleads.

"Hey Y/n, do you think I could take you out on a date?" Ray says suddenly losing all confidence. I look at him to see if he is sincere as he stares at the floor. "Yes Ray I will go out with you."

And yes I did ask for his toothpaste he uses Crest.

[rosegolden13]

You had long since lost track of what Captain John Price was yelling in your face. Yes, you had almost gotten yourself killed on the latest mission. Did you regret it when you realized you’d have a limp for a bit? Yes. Did you regret it now, hearing that gruff accented voice directed at you? Hell no.

Even during debriefs, you could get lost in the gentle rumble of his voice. But this right now was something different. His words were biting, filled with an intensity that you normally only saw in the midst of missions- not on base and not directed at you.

You bit down on the soft plush of your bottom lip and a moment of silence settles over you. His icy blue eyes bore into yours. It’s like staring down a dog that’s about to snap its teeth at you again. Needing to fill the silence, you gave a quick response, “What was that last part, sir?” This’ll piss him off more but that’s what you want.

He stares at you a moment, processing your audacity before exploding once again. “Bloody fuckin’ hell, Sergeant! You don’t listen to me here, you don’t listen to me on the field. It’s a fuckin’ miracle you’ve survived this long. Pull that shit again, I dare ya, girl. What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is a low growl as he steps closer, like he’s about to reach for the back of your neck and jostle some sense into you.

Your cheeks are flushed at this point. There’s no denying that or the subtle ache between your legs. You let out a slow breath, spotting movement in your peripheral and meeting Soap’s gaze. He seems to see right through you, a cocky smirk on his face. “She’s got the hots for ya, Cap’n. Tha’s wha’s wrong with her.”

Price stares at you a moment more, completely taken aback as he reassesses you. And then he turns around, muttering something about not getting paid enough. You stand there mortified before chasing off after Soap to berate him for outing you like that.

[dumbbitchgalore]

John Price is a muncher.

And that is a fact.

Old Man!Price on the other hand is a devourer.

This man has got so much practice under his belt that he has no reason to boast about his sex life and skill to anyone. So when you decide to give him a chance seemingly bored with the recurring playboys that you're dated coupled with your inclination for older men, Price didn't seem like a bad option.

Sure he's given up trying to dye his hair, letting the grey strands sprout from his head and beard, and he's developed a pudgy body that puts he's once muscular physique and brute strength to shame but he makes that all up with his skill.

Old habits die hard, and John's thirst to satisfy a willing vunt has never really been satiated in his life time. And your obedient cunt makes his addiction ten times worse than it was.

You'll be squealing under him, begging, pleading for a break but his hold on you never lets up.

John will simply chuckle, stuff his nose into your sopping, warm pussy, inhaling the scent like it was a god-mandated order only for him to go back to lapping at your cunt like the bastard he is.

He won't let go, not until he's had his fill.

[starsofang]

Price loves his sweet wife, all smile and charm, all pretty and wits. But oh, does he love when she gets mad.

He doesn’t mean to get you riled up, but he also doesn’t mean for his pants to get all tight and uncomfortable when it happens. He doesn’t mean a lot of things, actually—just like how he didn’t mean it when he told you about an old broad that made numerous attempts to sweeten him up down at the bar his crew often resided.

There was no broad, nor was there anything but drunken laughter shared with his men.

But the sight of you, his precious wife, spouting out annoyed curses, rolling your pretty eyes until they nearly fell out your head, yapping on about how you’ll happily stomp that bitch in the curb the next time you see her? It’s like injecting him with a poison that had his dick growing so hard in his pants he could feel its own pulse.

Price had already married you, practically got on one knee to pop the question the moment you two met, but seeing that nasty side of you stirred something sinister in him. Naturally, he did everything he could to lure it out just to ease the aching need he had for you.

Sex with you was already spellbinding, but when you were flushed hot with bitter jealousy, pretty hands pressed firm against his chest as you slammed your hips down on his weeping cock in a repetitive motion was a sight he wished he could frame forever.

He’d never tell you that most (all) times, he was only telling you little, white lies to get your rage pumping. It was his dirty secret.

You certainly never seemed to mind taking it out on him, which was exactly the goal. Hell, you even let him paint your walls pearly white as an apology for getting so worked up, something so utterly rewarding to him.

He loved this calm life with you. Wouldn’t change a thing about it. But the occasional angry wife, spitting burning fire and only egging him on? Yeah, that was something he didn’t mind becoming a routine, so long as his cock was the thing you were using as your release.

[ang3licsins]

thinking about olderbf!simon coming back home after a long and tiring mission just to pull you into his lap and say “i missed ya today, darlin’.. ‘m, needa hold ya. cap’n told me ya texted, askin’ when i’d be home..” because under that cold and rough exterior, is a man, that is human with FEELINGS. :(🖤

[waltermis]

I miss them 🥹🥲

[floralpascal]

NSFW, 18+

John Price always convinces himself that he means it. He’s not the kind of man who breaks his promises.

“Just the tip, love,” he groans, positioning himself at your entrance. Your desperate nod and pleas for him only spur him on.

He swears that he’ll restrain himself, that he’ll keep his promise. He just wants to feel you bare, if only a little. He’s a man of iron resolve — he should be able to control himself without a problem…

But he never was good at keeping this promise when it came to you.

Instead, he finds himself balls deep in your heat, fucking you furiously. The way you’re screaming his name in ecstasy would make him break any promise if only to give you more pleasure. When his cum has painted your walls and you’re both coming down from your highs, he can’t even find the decency to feel sorry for it.

“Fuck…” you groan, pulling him down to kiss you before begging, “Just… just do it again. Please.”

John smiles. With a low, seductive voice, he teases, “Just the tip, yeah?”

[machveil]

hubby Price driving you around at night like a newborn baby when you can’t sleep. radio turned on low, the rumble of the car surrounding you, his big hand gently pawing at the meat of your thigh. he takes turns slow, drives under the neighborhood speed limit - you’re the only ones out right now anyways. once you’re drifting off he takes the long way home, carefully parking before unbuckling you. big bear of a man, cradles you in his arms as he scoops you up, makes sure the car door doesn’t slam as he closes it. carries you all the way to bed, tucking you in all delicate. he doesn’t want to risk waking you up by crawling into bed so soon, instead he goes to sit in the living room for an hour or so, just to be sure, doing some light reading before he joins you

[luminni]

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not used to it huh?" He grins

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

"Uni?" he questions, one eyebrow raised

"Stuck in grad school" you confirm

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

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

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

"Leave?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edit: I did write more pt.2

[coraline-jones353]

Hii is it okay if I request Ray Manchester x Single Mother reader?

A little more info on her is that she works as a CEO and people think shes intimidating and scary due to how strict she is but in reality she only wants whats best for her coworkers and child

The way she met Ray was either through junk n stuff or maybe Captain Man thinking she was evil

Feel free to skip this! No worries :)

Omg thank you so much for the details, there a life savior. Since this is a request it will get pushed to the top of my drafts so it should be done soon!

A Ceo's World

Summary: Y/n is a single mother of a lovely young lady, melody. She's a big CEO in Swellview. She needs a particular object that can only be found at Junk n stuff for her daughters 10th birthday, or so she thought.

Warnings: Cuss words, made up singer for this, scheming kids

Y'all idk about this one I think it's shitty 😭

While driving to Junk n stuff all I can think about is how stupid I'm about to look. I had to drive to this random store just for some shirts and pins. The lengths I go for this kid I swear. Me, a well respected woman is about to go get merch from this random kid creator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sigh as I walk into the store. I scan the room and find nothing. Great, I think to myself now I have to go ask someone for help.

I look around for an employee and see a man at the counter. He's charming. Beautiful dark brown hair and omg his muscles. He looks like he works out in his free time. And I don't see a ring on his finger.

Today Mr. Gooch was out sick and there was no major crime, only Jeff so Henry aka Kid Danger just went to handle that alone. That left Ray there alone to handle the store.

This is bullshit, Ray thought to himself, I should be out there fighting crime and kicking ass but instead I'm stuck behind a counter for a fake store. Ray dramatically grabs a newspaper from the stand outside and sits in his chair, putting his feet up and relaxing.

Just then a customer walks in. Ray looks up from his magazine to see the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, hell she's even hotter than Henry's mom. She looks serious and is in business attire, she's got to be important. But he swears he has seen her somewhere. Perhaps in a commercial? Or maybe on a billboard? He scrambles to his feet and rushes over to his customer. A little too quickly he realizes as he almost trips over his feet on his way over.

"Hi I'm Ray, Manchester, Ray Manchester." He says in a frantic way like his words are racing to leave his mouth before he can even take a breath. "Hello, I'm Y/n L/n. I'm looking for merch for my daughter. It's from this singer, uh I think her name is AppleCore?" I say looking around for the familiar green shirts with a red apple on them. AppleCore is a famous girly pop singer that is popular around now. Many girls will come in the store just to try to find any "vintage" merch of hers. They come in, singing all her songs and shopping for apple stuff.

"Oh yeah I know what you're talking about, but we don't sell that here." Ray says "Oh I could have sworn she said it was here." I say looking around again. Ray watches your eyes go back and forth, up and down, his store hoping to find what it is she wants even though he knows he doesn't have it.

"Well I'll just look up the shirt and find another store." I say shaking my head at my daughter's misinformation.

"Wait, wait.. Do you think I could have your number?" Ray says in a panic as you make a bee line for the door. "My- my number?" My eyes widden in shock at his sudden interest in me.

"Yes. You're very gorgeous and I'd like to get to know you more." Ray explains with a dazzling smile.

[oceantornadoo]

you’ve got a certain captain wrapped around your finger and he’s more than glad to be there.

it’s a celebration of your one year on the team, drinks galore at your favorite local dive in london. johnny insisted on a half-circle booth and as the person of honor, you’re smack dab between him and your captain. your captain who’s been paying your tab all night long, waving off your hands as you try to reach for your wallet.

“lieutenant, give us a dance.” gaz says with a smirk on his face. ghost, on the other side of johnny, is one too many drinks in to move, which means it’s john’s turn to scooch. except he’s leaning his head on the worn wooden backing of the booth, lost in thought. he’s seen you naked in safe houses and shared showers, so why does it feel so obscene to lift yourself over his lap? there’s barely space between his massive thighs and the table, necessitating callused paws to guide your hips over his own. it’s the scrape of denim on denim, your ass firmly over his crotch for a whole second, before he pats your hip to push you all the way. “thanks, cap.” you turn with a glimmer in your eye and he dips his hat like a gentleman of old, making you giggle in your drunken stupor.

you used to hide reactions like these, suffocated by the rigid emotional walls of the military. but now, the team’s given you a safe space to be yourself: a titan on the field and a human with emotions off it.

gaz bows to ask for your hand and you accept with a curtsy. the two of you are the best dancers on the team (not a hard competition to win) and entertain johnny with twists and turns on a dance floor of your own making. he calls out instructions in that grumbly accent of his, causing you to cry with laughter in gaz’s arms. two things happen at once: you go down on the dance floor and simon lurches off the booth. johnny catches him with quick reflexes but you’re not as lucky, landing in a pile of gaz’s limbs and your own.

someone strong lifts you up with hands tucked under your armpits, inducing a ticklish squirm you subdue with years of experience. gaz is up without help, pushing simon back from the other side so he’s straight up again. “righ’ l.t., time to get ye home.” johnny’s strong but the weight and uncoordination of a drunk simon requires gaz’s help as well. “happy anniversary, angel!” he yells out as the three stumble out of the bar and (hopefully) back towards base.

“think he’ll be ok?” despite your alcohol levels, you whip around back towards john, throwing him off guard with raised eyebrows and hands out to steady your shoulders. “man’s a human tank. i’m more worried f’r gaz an’ soap. you ok?” you nod convincingly.

sure, in your year on the team, it’s been necessary to touch your captain. hands brushing over your shoulders as he reaches for his favorite coffee cup in the highest cupboard. fingers crossing as you pour over reports into the wee hours of morning. a fist bump here and there. he slaps his men in the chest but with you he squeezes your shoulder, a movement with longer contact and more thought required. tendons and sinew coming together to acknowledge your own with practiced hand eye coordination. you don’t read into it - he’s just avoiding touching you in an uncomfortable area. you’re familiar enough to initiate it first, a friendly squeeze to his bicep after a rousing pre-battle speech. but touching him has never been like this.

you ask him to become your new dance partner and he does, hands cradling your waist with splayed fingers. your own on the breadth of his shoulders, hard and never ending. instead of the joyful twists you did with gaz, john rocks you slow and steady to the crooning beat of an 80s love song.

“didn’t know you could dance, cap.” he shrugs and it echoes through your grip on him, magnified by a hundred. “every man should be able to waltz.” there was a word he wanted to say after his last and you can’t figure it out, the staccato ending bitter in your ears. instead of pressing, you’re content to sway back and forth. it calms your spinning brain. “got any loved ones yer celebratin’ yer anniversary with?” it’s an oddly personal question, but you doesn’t acknowledge its strangeness. you sway a bit with him before answering, stepping a half foot closer.

“my family and i are celebrating on my next leave. i would celebrate with my close friends, but it’s hard to explain my position without telling them classified information.” he nodded knowingly. the music changes to a faster song but he keeps your peaceful tempo, his chest brushing your own through your well worn civvies. “no’one else?” you shake your head before realizing the implications of what he’s asking. there hasn’t been anyone else for a long time, even before you joined the team. work was busy. once you joined, it felt somehow wrong to seek companionship outside of the four men who’d been gifted to you. one more than others.

“no one else, cap.” his fingers are tracing the small of your back. you can’t tell if he knows or not. before he can say anything, you turn the questions on him. “you got someone you’re going home to?” his eyes meet yours, dark blue and smoldering. “got everythin’ i need righ’ here.” you jump a little at his words. they sober you up instantly as you realize you’re slow dancing with your superior, prolonged eye contact past what’s socially acceptable. he doesn’t let you go too far, tightening his grip on your waist. “had ‘nough?” you nod and clutch your stomach for the full effect. “take me home?” he grabs his coat and dumps it on your shoulders, the intoxicating mix of pine, soap and musk seeping into your pores. john leads you back to base with a hand on your back the whole time.

-

“c’mon, got t’ make sure you’re tucked in alrigh’.” he’s in your barracks room, private thanks to the privilege of your position. you don’t sit down on the bed but he does, seemingly exhausted by the night’s activities. “i knew you were old, but wow.” you nudge his foot to make him look up. when he does its like he’s aged five years, with a scruffier beard and deep wrinkles. “john?” you’re drunk. that’s why you say his name, why you reach out to smooth a crease on his forehead. all the while he’s quiet, content to let you play with his face.

“i’m sorry about last month.” it rolls off your tongue unbidden.

(last month. half a bottle of whiskey in his office. your ass on his desk, his hands on your waist. his beard meets your chin but before he can kiss you, you turn, letting his lips meet your cheek. “i’m sorry.” it comes out as a gasp. he doesn’t say anything, scraping his beard against your cheek. “don’t worry about it.”)

“why’d ya say that?” he murmurs. you shrug. “you seem agitated in my presence. thought it might help.” he gives you an old man groan, peeking an eye out from his hat as you giggle. “y’r killin’ me sweetheart, so i’m askin’ this once. you into this or not? i’ll go home right now.” he’s closer than you thought, almost face-to-stomach.

you pull him closer by his beard until he’s resting against your torso. the angle has to be unflattering with how you’re looking down at him, but he’s not running away screaming. “are you into me even though i turned away?” he bites out a ‘yes’ automatically. you owe him an explanation.

“i got scared. i don’t want to jeopardize my place on this team.” in a move credited to a boot camp instructor somewhere, he flips you so you’re under him on top of the covers, arms pinned by his own. “y’r permanent on this team. no matter what.” you blink at him unbelieving. “laswell picks who comes and leaves. my words are jus’ a suggestion. i’ve barely any influence.” you hardly believe that but when he’s on top of you with these sapphire eyes, it’s hard to deny him.

you kiss your captain slowly like you’ve been wanting to do for months. he captures your bottom lip with his teeth, sucking like he owns your mouth. the pace ebbs and flows, from sweet to possessive in a matter of seconds. “john, oh fuck, john.” you pant out in between kisses. he moves to your neck, sucking the soft skin there. “you gotta promise me.” you nudge him until he gives you his hand. you twist him into a pinky promise, something he didn’t know existed. “i promise, baby. now let me give you your anniversary present.”

-

idk what this is. i’m tired and hungover. pls enjoy.

[dumbbitchgalore]

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

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

And you're no exception.

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

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

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

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

John sighs as tears roll down your flushed cheeks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let's go to a lake house, Birdie.”

[goaskangel]

doggy with old man price !

he’s so gentle everytime things escalate between you two. even through his scratchy beard and bigger body, he really takes his time with you.

 trailing and guiding your body to the bed, just sitting on the edge as he kisses you, squeezing your delicate hands. john takes his time until you moan into his kisses, pushing your fingers into his larger thigh. you crawl to rest your head on your side of the pair of the pillows, allowing him between your legs. 

tips of your fingers dig carefully into his jaw as you kiss him softly before playfully turning to your stomach, “wan’ it like this, john.” pawing at his fitted pants from behind. 

amused by your sudden jest, he complies. “y’er lucky this old man’s still got some stamina. some girl ya are…” he rubs soothing circles on your eager lifted hips. finding himself interested in the dips and curves on your ass and chubby body, he undresses you. still gentle, leaving pecks on your exposed skin.

his groans send butterflies to your stomach. what he was doing, what he was admiring, is completely unknown to you. you soon find out when you yelp at the unexpected nudge against your drooly pussy. a familiar high reaches john as the tip of himself disappears inside you, pulling a broken whine from you. when he picks a certain pace, you just can’t help but writhe against his hips and moan continuously.

a burning heat just below your naval blooms carefully as his pace rubs his thick cockhead into your raw, sweet spot. “so go–od, john…!”  your hands are fisted impossibly tight as you rest your head on your arms. his deep growls and groans turn loader, more breathy as he loses energy but stays determined.

“breathe, lovie.” you nod at his words as the only weight on you increases when he lays you flat to rest atop you. 

“take it, baby. f’me. mhmm.” john’s voice only gets louder as his face is js behind your ear. he’s got you in prone bone so all that runs through your head is john, john, john. his fuzzy body and deep noises as well as being so deep inside of you all numb your mind. his cock plunges in and out of you at a regular pace again. your own noises getting muffled until he quickens to stop. your moans about how good he feels on you, how good he feels inside of you make him weak as thick, milky goodness releases in you. he gropes your squished tits as he groans into your neck. such a good bird for him, even at his old age (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

masterlist

[deunmiu-dessie]

divorced!john price who lets his daughter and her best friend (you) stay at his house every summer without fail. divorced!john price who leaves the two of you home alone more often than not when he's deployed. divorced!john price who spoils the two of you when he is home, by taking you out to restaurants and going shopping. divorced!john price who should see you as a second daughter, and treat you as such. divorced!john price who feels like a dirty old man for not thinking that way. divorced!john price who's wanted to feel your cunt wrapped around him since the moment he laid eyes on you. divorced!john price who swears to let his fantasies be nothing more than they are. divorced!john price who gets a text from his daughter during his early drive back that you had arrived sooner than she did. divorced!john price who gets home only to find you sprawled naked across his bed, playing with yourself and moaning his name. divorced!john price who can't help but swallow thickly at the sight of your messy pussy ruining his sheets. divorced!john price who clears his throat, voice gruff, "d'you wan' help sweetheart?"

he knows he shouldn't be doing this, knows that it's wrong, but the taste of you is addicting. warm and sweet against his tastebuds, innocent and needy. the precise but shaky roll of your hips against his mouth is driving him insane as well⸺ and the only thing he can do is watch. watch as you fall apart on his tongue while he grinds himself against the edge of the bed. listen to the muffled sound of your moans and pleas as he takes you higher and higher only to slow down his ministrations and ruin your orgasm, your slick, soft thighs trapping him against your swollen, drooling cunt. john can't help but groan against you, tongue lashing out to flick your engorged clit, when he finds your teary face, your head shaking back in forth. "m-mr. price! mmf--! please! i can't, need t'cum."

and maybe he shouldn't have given in as easily as he did, but god he's jerked off to the thought of this exact moment for what feels like an eternity. "all y'had to do 's ask, luv."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ - 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒!

[yeyinde]

Homeless, broke, and without anywhere to go, you turn to one of the oldest professions in the world. But your first John—and rather aptly named, too; John Price, he tells you, but expects you to call him sir—is anything but introductory.

See, he has a solution to all your problems. A little quid pro quo. Nothing you weren't already setting yourself up for—sex, submission. But instead of nameless, faceless men, he'll be your only patron. And in exchange, he'll give you shelter—a place of your own to stay—and food. Protection.

And all you have to do is satiate his voracious appetite.

Fair, right?

(oh, if only you knew.)

Tired of sourcing his meals every night, John can't really believe his luck when he finds you wandering around, all alone. Sweet thing. Ripe for the picking. And that he does.

Picks you up off the street and carries you home where the doors lock from the outside, and the windows are barred. You'll fight him at first, he knows. Try to escape. It's just in your nature, isn't it? Something that needs to be weeded out with a firm hand.

But by the time he's done with you, you'll beg him to let you keep the collar (and the ring) on.

Quite happily, too, because every part of you—from the very blood in your veins and the desperate little thudthudthud of your rabbit quick heart—belongs to him, after all.

[gothghostiie]

something babysitter!reader waiting for price to drive them home while he's on video call with one of his friends, the little one in his lap, tapping around on the screen; until it somehow does something to make the screen go weird. he chuckles and shows you, inevitably holding the camera right onto you for a moment and showing you before turning it back on him. all you hear from the phone now is a curious hum. "who's the lil' tulip on the couch?"