johnpricearchive

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Price: stay close and follow me

Me, twirling my ghillie suit: whatever you say captain 🥰

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Such a bear > <

₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧

captain price photo dump! :3 yes these have all been collecting in my camera roll. 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

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You know that mole Price has on his nose?

gif credit eurodynamic

I want to smack it with my lips 💋

That’s it, that’s what this post is about

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Nasty older boyfriend John price who waits until the hot, leaking tip of his aching hard cock is pressed right up against your cervix to say “theeere she is. There’s the girl I’ve been wanting to kiss all night.”

Nasty older boyfriend John Price who calls every creampie “painting the nursery”

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High Rise

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Canon i was the piercing 😋

okay so barry sloane had an eyebrow piercing in the early 2000s… do we think canonically young captain price had one too 👀

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Oh okkk?? 😍😍 I need a cowboy price in my life

light study with cowboy Price

alt version + ref used:

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I'm sorry? 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

Price who gets a little older and finally retires but is BORED OUT OF HIS MIND.

He's right around 50, give or take a few years, and years of active duty plus a shot to the leg made it so that he can't do his job the way he used to, and damned if he's going to ride a desk and watch the rest of his team flit in and out doing what he should be doing. So he takes the pension and leaves.

It's less than a month of trying (and failing miserably) to sleep in, starting (and failing miserably) to grow a garden, reading and smoking cigars on his porch (that part goes all right) before he's about to rip his hair out. He ends up takin a job as an adjunct professor at the local university, teaching history.

And he ADORES it, so much more than he thought he would. He gets paid to run his mouth about World War II, something he would most definitely do for free, and he finds it surprisingly rewarding to interact with the students. He always loved taking care of those under him, and this is another version of that. He's a natural born leader, and while teaching is less regimented, it still fulfills something in him.

Another unexpected perk? You.

One of his more attentive students, always sitting in the front row, eyes wide and focused on him -- always on him. You hang on his every word during lectures, jotting down notes and asking questions, offering observations. You're bright, funny when the opportunity arises, and the way you just listen to him so well ... you're young enough to be his daughter, but beautiful enough for him not to be too bothered about it.

Not that it matters anyway. Nothing will ever happen, he knows that. He's your professor, he's sure you see him as an old man, if you even see him as a man at all.

What he doesn't know, however, is that you don't only listen because you're a good student. You listen because he's got the hottest voice you've ever heard, you pay attention because sometimes the dress shirts he wears stretch a little too tightly over his broad, well-muscled shoulders. You hover at his desk after class and ask him questions because you're genuinely curious, sure, but also because that close, you can smell him -- a rich tobacco scent that you're pretty sure you could become addicted to.

"Excellent work, as always," he tells you in that low, gruff voice one day during his office hours. You'd stopped by to get him to take a look at a rough draft of an essay you were writing for him. "You've definitely got an interesting point of view, sweetheart."

He glances up at you, a small, tight grin on his face, and you positively beam at him.

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, the pet name, and he was just about to smooth over it, a quick apology, but when he saw how your eyes lit up at the tiny bit of affection, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

After all, it doesn't really matter, does it? He tells himself again that nothing will ever happen. And if more little names slip out, if maybe he hovers a little too close over your desk when you have a question in class, or if his shoulder brushes against yours when you're reading something in his office? Well, then that won't matter either, will it?

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Don't let the prices inside no matter what he tells you.

sorry saw this post but now all i can think of is an overeager price on a date.

look at him. he's just so happy you're finally giving him a shot

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alpha!price who gets tired of hearing his omega talk down on herself all the time. clearly his gentle words and fading bite behind your ear isn’t enough to convince you that you’re worthy of being his

so he’ll try another method

and if that means driving you up to his fishing cabin in before his rut hits, setting you loose in the forest so he can hunt you down before the sun rises, then so be it. and if he has to refresh that mark, drawing blood and yowls from your that, then so be it.

and he’s not above keeping you locked up in the bedroom when his rut finally hits, might as well cut out all that silly talk about how you should leave him so he can ‘find someone better’ because you aren’t leaving!

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WOOFWOOFBARKMEOWMEOWPURRRRR🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

Never misses, even in style

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He doesn't know how to text emojis :( please be patient

That fucking Matt Lillard pic but it’s Price

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OMG THE SOCK ONES HAHAHAHSASHHA he would wear them proudly 😌✨

Some Weirdly Specific John Price Headcanons

—is a super competitive drinker (and once passed out on the street because he was trying to out-drink Ghost and Soap who were pranking him with fake alcohol)

—100% wears silly socks under his tactical gear that he got from Soap one Christmas and is now emotionally attached to

—main love language is quality time, but acts of service is a close second (pretty obvious one I’d say, like you just know that that is a man who gives princess treatment like no one else)

—super insecure about his age and appearance (very similar to Arthur Morgan for any rdr2 fans) even though he isn’t even that old, and gets annoyed whenever the rest of the force talk about things he isn’t familiar with

—used to believe in very traditional house roles, but after being with his ex-wife is now terrified of a woman being in control of the house (let’s just say that a lot of his possessions are now in ashes) and would much rather you be equals

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I wouldn't mind tbh 🤧

john and his pretty pregnant wife who he loves so much, doesn't let her lift a single finger.

coos about how you're growing his baby.

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RAWRBARKBARKWOOFMEOOOW

how I picture price’s body😩

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THIS IS LITERALLY MY DREAM OMGG 😩😩😩😩😩

Oh, to be John Price's missus... Slow living in Cotswolds... Owned a cottage and small horse farm because his missus used to work as riding instructor for children and give a tour around the village—that was the first time he laid his eyes on her.

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Only to imagine price's den makes me want to melt in his arms 😩

Something something bear!hybrid!Price something something breeding you full of his cubs…please?

I’m gonna do some RECYCLING here

Imagine Grizzly!Price introducing himself on the day you move in. And he’s never seen a bear like you before. You’re a bear for certain— the fluffy ears and tail, the scent of fruit and honey, it pulls out instincts he’d long forgotten about.

But you’re so little. And you have that funny little ring of fur around your neck. And that long tongue. And you can’t stand the cold. No hibernation instincts whatsoever.

A sun bear.

And he feels this tremendous itch when winter comes. He always feels this sort of dull ache— sleep is calling him. But he’s the kind of man who can’t help but keep an eye on everything going on around him. And you’re not prepping at all. Where are your crates of groceries? Your house has a cellar for God’s sake and he hasn’t seen anything go in there. Each time he sees you through your window, just enjoying yourself and ambling around the house— it’s like dry kindling is being tossed onto the embers around his heart.

He always felt this hard drive to nurture, to provide, to nest— he can’t stand seeing you so vulnerable and unprepared. And you’re so small! What’s going to happen once you get snowed in and you barely have enough to last you a week and a half?

Which is why he keeps coming around. Bringing his own things, preserves, jerky, canned goods— all under the guise of having “made too much”. Proving he has what it takes to care for you. You don’t really get it, he can tell from the look on your face, but you appreciate the treats.

He can’t get the image of you licking into a nearly empty jar of blueberry compote with your too long tongue out of his head. Of course his girl wouldn’t be wasteful.

Price only gets broodier as the dead of winter approaches. A blizzard is forecasted— and he all but demands that you stay at his place. He has a generator, firewood, a full larder— you don’t. You follow easily, like a dog rolling over to have its belly rub. What’s to protest?

He insists you sleep in his bed. Why waste the body heat when you could share? He barely has to prompt you before you’re rolling around, playing in his sheets, rubbing your scent everywhere. Sun bears mate year round, so you always smell just a little ripe and juicy— and it drives him crazy.

Having you in his bed, keeping you warm, feeding you…. It pushes him into that state of mind. You’re not in a man’s house anymore, you’re in a bear’s den, and his body knows what comes in spring, even if yours doesn’t.

He grinds up against you in his half-asleep daze, his nose buried in your neck as he mutters about what you’ll look like all fat and happy from overwintering with his cubs inside you. You might be a bit too small to take his cock at first, and it might be a bit of struggle to carry his brood, but you’ll have him to get you ready. He’ll look after you every step of the way, so just don’t worry your pretty head about it, ok?