ămy daddy didn't love me so i guess i've moved onto you
đ pairing: captain john price x fem reader
đ tags: nsfw, daddy kink, undefined age gap, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, both reader and price have a daddy kink that they indulge in with very little discussion, allusions to reader having a bad relationship with her father (but nothing concrete), price uses a lot of pet names for reader and also calls himself daddy several times
title is inspired by the song peter bogdanovich by my queen CMAT
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
If thereâs one thing you know, itâs that youâre damn good at your job.
You have to be in order to survive in this ridiculous goddamn base. There are protocols to be followed, risk assessments to carry out, weapons and equipment requisition requests to send off, and you have to handle almost all of it for Task Force 141. Thatâs one thing about working with the military â theyâre all about action, and rarely have the patience to fill in their paperwork, and then when they do itâs never done properly.
Youâre patient when you need to be, willing to push when you have to, and you make sure shit gets done. Itâs not an easy job; you work your ass off, and itâs often thankless. Most of your job is done behind the scenes, whether thatâs requisitioning on-the-fly tactical or strategic airlifts, liaising with other units, or trying desperately to smooth over any little problems that might crop up with the higher-ups.Â
Itâs challenging and exhausting, and you love it, but damn, it can be fucking infuriating. Working in a male-dominated environment is a little bit soul-destroying, with every condescending comment and lascivious gaze that lingers over your body. But none of that matters, because you donât need male approval to excel at your job. You donât need male approval for anything.
You repeat it to yourself on the daily, which is something that youâve never had to do before. But before, you werenât working with Captain John Price.
Heâs not⊠rude, per se. If anything, heâs always coolly polite. But itâs obvious, so obvious, that he just barely tolerates you. Heâs gruff, short, to-the-point, and never speaks to you outside of brusque orders. It takes weeks for him to start trusting you with even the most basic of files, and even then chunks of information are often redacted. And it shouldnât matter; youâve worked for men like him before, you know how it goes, and if anything heâs one of the better ones.
In the beginning, when you had first been assigned to the task force, Price had not been happy about it. It had been a tough transition; your assignment had been approved by Laswell in order to take some of the strain of liaising off both her and Price, but the Captain hadnât been too pleased about it. He had seen you as a sort of interloper, a silly little pencil-pusher sent in by the brass to do the grunt work of administration that no one else wants to do.
But you work hard, you always have done. And maybe⊠maybe, part of the reason that you end up busting your balls so hard is because you wantâ no. Maybe you need his approval. Youâd prefer not to think about it; itâs easier to throw yourself into your work, and pretend that youâre doing it for you.
Youâre not even sure how it started, but at some point, Price starts looking at you differently. Maybe he realises that youâre competent at your job, or maybe he just needs to get used to you. Maybe, you hope, heâs finally starting to realise that youâre good at what you do; that you can be an asset to the team, so long as they actually work with you.Â
Whatever it is, he eases off. Stops being such a hard-ass, starts giving you space to do your thing. Eventually, he starts delegating too â stops hoarding the work like a miser, and finally starts treating you like youâre capable of something more than just photocopying.
Heâs not a bad boss, not by a long shot. Heâs kind, determined, patient when it matters, with a wry sense of humour. Heâs also fiercely protective over his team, and that includes you now.Â
But heâs also older, by at least fifteen years, and heâs not always the most diligent with paperwork. Typical man of action, youâve seen it a hundred times before. Thereâs always something more important to do, and while heâs always so cognisant of your workload and careful not to add to it, he is also all too happy to let you take the reins when it comes to bureaucracy. You like to think that youâve proved yourself to him, but maybe he just respects competency.
That should be it.
But youâre so ashamed to admit that even when Price stops treating you like youâre a hostile target, you canât stop hoping for his attention. Your mental chants of I donât need male approval for anything, I donât need male approval for anything become a daily thing, and sometimes a several-times-a-day thing.
Because the thing is, Price can be a difficult man to please. Heâs always so busy that he doesnât have time to give you the approval that youâre straining for, but when he does it gives you the most shameful warm glow in your belly.Â
A brief nod or a low grunted âThanks, sweetheartâ is enough to fuel you for days now. Even better is when youâre walking along beside him, briefing him on the latest update from the higher-ups, and he leans his head in towards you as he listens intensely, sometimes even laying his large palm against the small of your back. Ostensibly, itâs to lead the way and guide you out of the path of the running cadets, but it just toes the line of professionalism and you flounder under the touch.
Itâs stupid. Youâre stupid. Heâs just a coworker, and you need to keep your issues to yourself.
âââ  ïœĄïŸâ: .✠. :âïŸ
Youâre perfectly self-aware enough to admit when youâre in a bad mood.
You start the day tired, and when you check your reflection in the mirror first thing that morning youâre greeted with the sight of a big, fuck-off pimple on your chin. Itâs big, itâs throbbing, it practically has its own fucking heartbeat. You barely restrain the urge to pick at it, though you can feel it even when youâre not looking at it.
Your mood doesnât improve when you get to the small kitchenette by your office and find that someone has used the last of the fancy French Vanilla flavoured coffee that youâve stocked for yourself. As if thatâs not bad enough, your little stash of chocolate digestives you keep for yourself for emergency bad days have disappeared too.
You clench your jaw and continue about your business. Whatever. You can survive without your coffee and chocolate.
Your resolve falters when you see the pile of paperwork on your desk, but whatever. Itâs all part of the job. A little chocolate biscuit to nibble on would definitely make your job easier, but youâre a big girl and youâre just going to have to go without.
Then you get the phone call. One that makes you want to bang your head against your desk hard enough to knock yourself unconscious so that you donât have to deal with this.
Itâs time to update the TF141 personnel files. Orders from above, since thereâs been significant changes to medical and surgical history in the last couple of months from injuries on missions.
 Normally, thatâs not such a big deal. It just involves updating their medical and technical files, making sure that nothing major has changed with regards their addresses or other personal information, even though a big portion of it ends up redacted anyway.Â
And, naturally, updating their photographs for their files.
You start easy.Â
Gaz is happy to come to your office when you text him, and he stands obediently for you as you take his picture. Heâs gotten a metal plate fitted in his kneecap from the last time his file has been updated, and he sits and chats easily with you as you go through his information. Heâs a sweet guy, and so easy to talk to, and you sigh with the knowledge that no one is going to make your job as simple and leisurely as Gaz just has.
After he leaves, you target Soap. He comes to your office as easily as Gaz, but heâs significantly more difficult to photograph.
He just keeps smiling, no matter how many times you tell him to quit it.Â
âItâs a personnel file photograph, not a photo for your Instagram.â You sigh, irritated. âI need you to have a blank, neutral expression. Itâs like a passport photo, Sergeant. Itâs for a government document.â
âCanât help it, lass.â Soap says easily, that stupid grin not even dimming. âI see a camera, I smile. Itâs muscle memory.â
You think that your irritation is only encouraging him, which only worsens your mood. In the end, you donât get a single usable photograph of him for his file. You have to give up on him, swearing that youâll come get him to try again later. He leaves your office still chuckling, like he thinks your frustration is cute.
You have tougher targets to tackle.
The difficult part isnât even taking Ghostâs photo â the difficult part is catching him in the first place.
You spend almost three hours trying to track him down (because he wonât read your texts and your phone calls go unanswered), wobbling all over base in your stupid high heels and somehow missing him by mere moments every time. You arrive in the gym, the mess, the firing range, even the barracks, only to see the manâs enormous broad back disappearing out of the other door as soon as you get there.
You can only assume that Soap had given Ghost the heads up that you were on the prowl with a mission and a camera, because the lieutenant is avoiding you like the goddamn plague.
So yeah. Youâre in a real bad fucking mood. But you canât help it â some days your job is entirely thankless, and your mood drops so low that you feel like going home and crying. But you canât, and you donât want to show weakness in front of these military idiots, so all you can do is lock your jaw and go about your business the best you can.
You go back to your office, jaw and fists clenched tight, and collapse at your desk with your head in your hands. You have to take a few deep, slow breaths to try and calm yourself, but then you make the mistake of checking your reflection and your mood sinks lower again when you see that the stupid pimple on your chin has worsened.
God, this is just not your day. You have to get these stupid files updated, or itâll fall on your head.Â
Eventually, you reluctantly stand up. Thereâs no point moping; you have a job to do, whether you like it or not, and your next victim is Captain Price.
You walk to Priceâs office swiftly, your feet aching in your stupid heels. You wish you had worn something more sensible, but⊠well. Even subconsciously, you want to impress.
When you reach his office, you throw the door open and march inside without even bothering to knock.Â
Price is sitting behind his desk, and his head snaps up as soon as you walk in. His expression is set in a hard scowl, though it softens when he sees who it is. You guess you donât exactly pose much of a threat, so he sees no use in posturing.
âI need you for a moment.â You bite out, allowing the door to slam shut behind you.
You hear Price sigh, before he leans back and settles into his chair, making himself comfortable. Heâs wearing the same dark compression shirt that he usually wears for training exercises or to the gym, and heâs recently groomed his beard down too. He looks good, though it takes a colossal amount of effort for you to not notice, because you have other things you need to focus on right now.
âHello to you too, love.â He grunts, wiping a hand over his eyes. âWhatâs the problem?â
You struggle not to react to that, his low voice both soothing and igniting something in your blood. You take a breath, try to calm down. Youâre a professional, and youâre not here to embarrass yourself in front of the captain.
âIâm updating personnel files,â You say, and this time it comes out calm and steady, âI need to take a picture of you.â
Priceâs gaze lingers on you, his stern brow softening a little. For a moment, you think that maybe this is actually going to be easy. That heâll just stand up and take the fucking picture, so that the two of you can go back to your jobs and relax for the rest of the day.
But thenâ
âJesus, kid.â He sighs, already shaking his head. âIâm up to my eyes right now. Leave it âtill tomorrow.â
For a moment, you donât react at all. You just stare at him, letting those dismissive words settle over you. Heâs already looking back at his paperwork, mission briefings and maps littering the desk, and you feel so effectively dismissed. You feel small, so silly and stupid standing in front of him in a way that you havenât felt since you first started working with the task force. You had thought that you were past this, that you had earned some meagre sort of respect from him.
âI need it done today.â You say, and your voice comes out a little hollow to your own ears.
You donât need male validation. You donât. But damn, youâve had a rough day and the fact that your captain isnât even bothering to look at you makes you want to cry.
Price sighs, and rubs at the crease between his eyes. He looks just as tired as you feel.
âYeah, well. I donât have time. Tomorrow.â
You swallow, pursing your lips. Heâs so effortlessly dominant, which means that his careless dismissal stings all the more.
âI have to get the whole team done,â You say, struggling to keep your voice firm. âSoap wouldnât stop smiling for the camera, I couldnât find Farah anywhere, and Ghostââ
Price gives a sharp, derisive snort. âForget Ghost.â
You scowl. âI need to do the whole squad.â
âNot Ghost.â Price repeats, this time slower and with more emphasis. âSimon doesnât do photos.â
You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Youâve been working alongside the task force for a while now, and youâre familiar with Lieutenant Rileyâs penchant for covering his face. Itâs not something you have a problem with â usually.
âThereâs no reason for him to be the exception to personnel photos, Captain.â You say through gritted teeth. âEveryone else is being photographed. The task force might be covert, but Lieutenant Riley is no moreââ
âChrist, enough.â Price snaps, his voice a deep boom that has your mouth closing with a click. âThe One Four One is my squad, in case youâve forgotten. I know these lads, and Iâm telling you to leave it out.â
You stare, a little taken aback by the harshness in his voice. He hasnât been this sharp with you in months, not since you had started to prove yourself competent, useful. Now, you can see the warning signs of his bad mood; the circles under his eyes are pronounced, his skin dull in the ugly fluorescent lights of his office. He looks exhausted, his skin lined and dry like he hasnât been drinking enough water.
You realise, a little too late, that you might have been pushing your luck by insisting on something as silly as personnel file photos. TF 141 had only returned from deployment at the beginning of the week, and Price has no doubt been drowning in reports since.
âThis is why I told Laswell you werenât necessary,â His snarl is entirely unlike him, and he rubs his face furiously, his palms rasping through his beard. âI donât need someone coming in here and making demands of my squad forâ for fucking photographs.â
You inhale shakily through your nose; to your utter horror, you can feel your eyes burn with hot wet tears. Itâs stupid â youâve dealt with far crueller words from far harsher men. The nature of your job often puts you in the firing line for frustration, and when it bubbles over itâs frequently directed at you.Â
But this⊠this feels different, for some reason. Youâve been working your ass off to try and earn some recognition from Price, to show him that youâre a valuable asset to the team, and so his sharp, frustrated dismissal of you cuts deeper than it should.
You hate that your eyes are burning like this. You donât want Price to think of you as useless, or as the silly little girl who was put on the team by the brass who canât even do her job right. He was just starting to think of you as competent, and it hurts your ego to have to go to him for help with something that you should be more than capable of handling yourself in the first place.
âRight,â You say, and even youâre startled by the sharpness in your tone. âFine. Forget the file updates, then.â
You step forward, jaw clenched hard, and toss the files youâve been carrying around all day onto his desk. They hit the surface with a smack that feels uncomfortably loud in the tense silence thatâs fallen over the room.
âIâll tell the higher-ups that youâre handling it.â You continue, your voice coming out brattier than youâd like. âSince obviously I have no idea what Iâm doingââ
âOh, donât do that.â Price sighs, as though youâre the one being unreasonable. âWhat Iâm saying is, if youâre going to work with the team, you have to understand the teamââ
That, you think, might just push you over the edge.
âDo you think Iâm stupid?â You snap out, and Priceâs mouth closes. âDâyou think Iâmâ that Iâm some kind of idiot?â
Price blinks. It seems like youâve managed to take him by surprise, as though your bad mood rivals his just enough to pull him out of his own grumpy form entirely. He opens his mouth again, but youâre not ready to hear him speak again just yet.
âIâm here because Laswell put in a request for me to work with you and your squad, Captain. Iâm considered an asset to the teams that I work with,â Youâre scowling thunderously, all the tension and frustration thatâs been mounting all day spilling over. âAnd I donât have to put up with being dismissed and unappreciated when I know that I would be respected in other squads for the work that I do.â
Price raises his hands, a frown creasing his brow. âKid, thatâs notââ
Usually, being called âkidâ by Price has a warm glow settling in your stomach that youâre absolutely not interested in examining, but this time it only lights an infuriated fire in your belly.Â
âDonât!â You snap, your breath juddering unsteadily. âGod, you think I enjoy being treated like an idiot? You think I havenât had to deal with this from men my whole career? My whole life? Even my fatherââ
To your abject horror, a lump forms in your throat and you canât finish that sentence. Your eyes are hot with unshed tears, and youâre pretty sure your lip is trembling.Â
Price stands, his stern expression slackening into something like uncomfortable surprise as he moves to step around the desk.
âHey,â He soothes, lifting his hands. âIâm not your father.â
âI know that!â You snap, irate. Youâre frustrated with yourself, embarrassed at what youâve unintentionally given away. âI wouldnât want you to be!â
Priceâs expression flickers, as though he canât decide quite how to react to you. Youâre more than aware that youâre being childish, but you find yourself unable to temper your overreactions. In the face of your tears and your frustrated anger, Price looks like heâs at a loss.
âAll Iâve done is work hard, and tried to take the burden off you to make your job a little easier.â You continue before he can interrupt again. âAnd all I get in return is stress, and my chocolate biscuits eaten, and breakouts, andâ andââ
âKidââ
âThe only person who wasnât an absolute dickhead to me today was Garrick,â You rage, on a roll now. âEveryone else has just been soâ and look how bad my skin has gotten from the stress of having to deal with men who want to act like childrenââ
Price watches you with an expression that is plainly bewildered as you gesture at the stupid pimple thatâs been throbbing on your chin all day. You donât even think youâre making sense, too lost in your frustration and humiliation to be properly aware of what youâre saying.Â
âYour⊠skin.â He repeats, a little disbelieving.Â
You whirl away, agitated. Youâre not getting your point across well, and Price must think youâre simply demented.Â
âHey,â He says slowly, approaching from around the side of his desk. âI didnât mean to suggest that you werenât doing a decent jobââ
âWhatever.â You mutter, running your hands over your skirt in an attempt to straighten out the creases. âWhatever.â
Itâs too little, too late. Heâs always been a bit of a hardass, and youâve always tried so hard to please him, to impress him. But you canât bear to make a fool of yourself like this any longer.
âIâll leave the paperwork to you. Update it, or donât. It doesnât matter.â You say shortly, turning on your heel and marching towards the door.
âWait,â Price calls out. His voice is firm, echoing with the grim certainty of a man who is used to being obeyed.
But youâre not one of his soldiers, and his command falls on deaf ears. Your skin is still prickling with humiliation; you donât think youâve ever been so desperate to get away from the Captain before.
âSweetheart, just wait a minute,â Price says, and this time you can hear the exasperation in his voice. âI understand that youâre stressed, thatâs normal. Everyone gets stressed in this line of work. But you canât just go and get your knickers in a twist because some of the lads are beinâ difficultââ
âMy knickers are none of your business!â You yell. Truthfully, itâs more of a shriek, high-pitched and unsteady enough to have Priceâs eyes widening and darting towards the door as though worried about someone overhearing from the corridor.
âWhoa, okay,â Price says with the air of trying to soothe a spooked horse. âYou're right. Your... knickers... ain't my concern. But helping keep this squad running smoothly is, and that can't happen if my admin is on edge."
âOh, give me a break!â Youâre beyond on-edge now, sailing right into fury. âYou ignore me most of the time when you're not on deployment, you dismiss me when Iâm just trying to do my job, but now youâre telling me you need me to not be on edge?â
Youâve reached the door now, your hand clenched tight around the doorhandle as you take one last moment to turn and look at him. Heâs stepping towards you, no doubt with the intent to stop you before you can leave, but you donât plan on giving him the chance.
âKid, just hang on a damn minuteââ
âSort the files yourself, or do whatever you want.â You bite out, yanking the door open but pausing in the doorway. âI donât even care anymore. Itâs your squad, you do it.â
Price takes a breath, visibly fighting for patience. Truthfully, you donât know how he hasnât lost his head with you already. He was already exhausted and in an obviously bad mood when you had stormed in here, and it couldnât be more obvious that youâve just made it worse with all of your frenzied anger and borderline hysteria.Â
The fact that Price is staying calm and level even in the face of your stress-induced meltdown only makes you feel all the more ridiculous. You wish he would get angry, that he would snap at you like he had when you had first walked in â at least that way you could pretend that you donât notice the way his stressed scowl had melted into a look of concern as soon as he had seen the tears welling up in your stinging eyes.
âAnd you donât have to wear that stupid hat, weâre indoors!â You yell, your voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.
You just have enough time to see his hand reach up to touch the brim of his boonie hat before you hurriedly bolt out of the room, escaping into the corridor before he can stop you.
âââ  ïœĄïŸâ: .✠. :âïŸ
ââ just thinking that maybe Iâd be better suited with another team, thatâs all. I heard Kortacâs liaison is approaching maternity leaveââ
âThat position is going to be filled internally,â Laswellâs voice is calm over the secure phoneline, a stark contrast to the shaky undertone of stress in your own. âBesides, organising a transfer like that is more trouble than itâs worth.â Thereâs a pause, then a sigh crackles over the phone. âYou still havenât explained what happened. As far as I can see, you were doing good work there.â
Yeah, you think sourly, because all you see is the paperwork end of it.
â... Internal conflict.â You mutter, playing with the fraying edge of your sweater sleeve.Â
Thereâs a long pause, protracted enough that it makes you squirm. You know what sheâs thinking â in your line of work, itâs impossible to avoid clashing with some of the big dominant personalities who are used to getting away with whatever they want. But youâve always been able to handle it, well-versed enough in diplomacy to know when to stand your ground and when to bow out to avoid unnecessary strife.Â
âInternal conflict.â Laswell repeats, her voice as bland as youâve ever heard it. âMeaning?â
God, it feels like youâre disappointing your mom or something. You scrub a hand over your face, pacing in the living room of your small apartment.
âI know how it sounds,â You say, âButâ they donât want to work with me. Thereâs only so much I can do if Iâm being met with resistance at every cornerââ
âYouâve worked with resistant squads before,â Laswell interrupts. âItâs part of the job.â
âYes, butâŠâ You start, before trailing off.Â
She has a point, of course. It is part of the job. Thereâs no way to professionally explain to your superior that the reason this assignment is so difficult is because you have a mortifying crush on the Captain of the Task Force. Itâs making you stupid, making all the stupid bullshit that youâre usually able to look past feel so much worse, especially because all youâve ever wanted was Priceâs approval.
Another sigh. This one, at least, sounds a little more sympathetic.
âLook,â Laswell says, and this time her voice is a little gentler. âIâve never given you an assignment that I didnât think you could handle. Whatever is going on, you need to sort it. Youâre a capable girl, and the One Four One is far from the most difficult team youâve had to deal with. There might be some big personalities there, but nothing that you shouldnât be able to tackle.â
âMhm.â You grunt noncommittally.
âSort out whateverâs going on with you.â Laswellâs tone leaves no room for argument, her suggestion falling just short of a command. âIf whatever issues youâre experiencing continue, Iâll talk to Johnââ
âNo!â You blurt.
God, you canât think of anything worse. Youâve already made a show of yourself in front of him, the last thing you need is for him to learn that youâve gone crying to Laswell about the whole thing. You donât want him to think of you as any more of a useless little girl than he doubtlessly already does.
âNo,â You repeat, calmer this time as you clear your throat. âIâll⊠sort it. Sorry to bother you with this, maâam.â
Laswell hums, and you can imagine her eyes narrowing. Judging by the wind whistling in the background of the call, sheâs not anywhere near her cushy office. Youâve interrupted her on whatever assignment sheâs on, and sheâs been kind enough to listen to your silly little complaints for at least fifteen minutes of her valuable time. You feel more ridiculous than ever, and you pinch at the bridge of your nose.
â... Right.â She says. âFine. Keep me updated on the situation. I want a sitrep by the end of the week, understood?â
âYes, maâam.âÂ
You understand whatâs not being said. Laswell expects you to work your own shit out, but you can hear the concern in her voice when she demands an update. All you can do is agree. Laswell has been by your side throughout your whole career, always having a hand in your assignments and your progression, and sheâs always been an advocate for you and what youâre capable of. Now, after this conversation, you feel silly for getting so overwhelmed in the face of what is a relatively minor obstacle.
âGood. Iâll speak to you then.â
You hum, wish her goodbye and good luck, and hang up the phone.
For a long moment afterwards, you sit in silence in your living room. God, how did all of this spiral into such a mess?
For the last few days, youâve been avoiding the base entirely. You have a few PTO days built up, and youâve taken the opportunity to just chill out. Itâs the first chance youâve had to relax properly in months, since you had started working with the task force. The space is good, and itâs needed.
You get out of the headspace of work, and reports, and files and requisitions and debriefs, and instead treat yourself with full body self-care. You exfoliate, you moisturise, you use a hair mask, you take bubble baths. You even catch up on the trashy Netflix romance series that you had put on hold for ages, just waiting for some free time to indulge.
And you almost, almost, forget about why youâre hiding away in your little flat in the first place.
But your third day off creeps around, and you canât help but feel as though your little bubble of isolation is about to pop. Thereâs only so much time away from the office that youâre able to swing, and the longer away the more you feel that your position on the team is untenable. No matter how you currently feel about the task force and your place with them, youâre not willing to let your hard work go down the drain just because youâre too cowardly to face them again after your little meltdown.
So, you go back to work after your little break away.
You manage to slink into your office mostly unseen, other than polite helloâs from other admin staff as you slip through the halls. Your office is far from prime real estate when it comes to office space on base â itâs well out of the way, down several corridors that no one ever goes down, and once you get past the main thoroughfares you donât come across anyone. Even still, it feels a little like youâre doing a walk of shame, but you walk with your head held high before you finally get your office door closed behind you.Â
To your surprise, your desk is clear. Typically, any slight break away from your desk results in work piling up on it, just waiting for your attention once you get back. You donât know what to make of the absence of work; you canât help but wonder, somewhat uncomfortably, if Price had taken your words to heart and dealt with all of the paperwork himself.
You check the drawers of your desk too, just in case, and come up empty yet again.Â
Well. Okay, then.Â
You sign into your desktop, waiting for the encryption program to load before accessing your emails. Thereâs a lot to catch up on, so you spend the next hour or so organising your to-do list in order of urgency.
You get lost in making your little lists, allowing yourself to relax into finding order in your schedule. You barely even look up until thereâs a soft knock on your office door, and by the time youâve raised your head the door has opened and Farah has slipped inside.
âOh,â You straighten up in surprise. âCommander. What can I do for you?â
Itâs a surprise to see her, especially since you hadnât received any email correspondence. Your office is tucked away down a remote corridor, and soldierâs usually prefer to just email you their requests rather than make the trek down.
Farah offers a polite smile, approaching your desk. âI hear you are taking photographs.â
Your smile slips a little. âOh. No, actually, I wasnâtââ
âCaptain Price said I was to be photographed,â She says, pulling the chair out opposite you and watching you expectantly. âI tried to find you yesterday, and the day before, but I believe you weren't on base.â
You shift, feeling abruptly rather awkward. âRight. I wasâ Price said that to you?â
âMhm.â Farah leans back in the chair, her dark eyes alert as they track over your face. âHe said that you have been stressed.â
You feel your face heat, mortified. Oh, god. How embarrassing. Has Price given the team a goddamn debrief on your little meltdown? Farah tilts her head as though she knows what youâre thinking, and a tiny smile quirks at the corner of her lips.
âThatâs all he said,â She says. âThat, and that we should try to make your job a little easier.â
âOh.â You shift, embarrassed and awkward. âIâ Listen, I had a⊠rough day at work a few days ago, thatâs all. Iâm notâ things are fine.â
Farah just nods as though thatâs perfectly convincing, and you find yourself wildly appreciative of her for a moment.
âSo, then,â She says, and raises her eyebrows. âThe picture?â
You canât find a way to explain that you had thrown that particular responsibility right back at Price in a fit of pique, but it turns out you donât have to. Farah produces a slim folder that you hadnât noticed her holding, and you realise with another flush of embarrassment that itâs her personnel file.
âThere wasnât much to update, just a recent blood work test.â She says as she lays it on your desk.Â
âThatâs⊠thanks.â You say weakly, taking the file in hand. You flick through it briefly, feeling something in your stomach squirm at the sight of Farahâs details all filled in â Priceâs handwriting is unmistakable, the small neat blocky letters standing out amongst the messy scrawl of Farahâs medical report.
You dig out your camera, still a little flustered, and direct Farah to stand against your plain white-painted wall. Sheâs an easy subject to photograph; she stands perfectly still, unsmiling, and you get the perfect picture after only a couple of attempts.
âLovely,â You murmur, flicking through the pictures. âThank you.â
Farah hums. Youâre expecting her to dismiss herself, and it takes a moment for you to realise that sheâs still lingering. You glance up, blinking, only to find that sheâs standing with her lips pursed, obviously considering something.
âThe Captain is worried about you.â She says, as though itâs the most natural thing in the world. âIs everything alright?â
You gape at her like a moron, camera still hanging loosely from your hands. You feel uncomfortably seen; thereâs no way that Farah could know what happened, but sheâs looking at you with an awful lot of sympathy right now.
âWhat?â You squeak.
âYou fought?â Farah speaks slowly, obviously conscious of overstepping her boundaries. âI donât mean to pry, itâs justâŠâ
âNo, thatâs okay.â You say hastily. âWe didnâtâ there was no fighting, exactly.â
She just nods, as if youâre making perfect sense, then smiles politely. She gathers herself up and steps towards the door, and you feel your head spinning as she turns to go.Â
âYou look tired,â Farah murmurs, low enough that you almost miss it. âWhen Price wants to fix things, let him.â
âMhm.â You nod quickly without really hearing her. Youâre pretty sure youâd agree to anything right now just to escape the knowing intensity of Farahâs gaze. âYeah, of course.â
After Farah leaves, you feel like you need another day off. Itâs all you can do to just sit in your comfortably padded office chair and groan like a moron, because Jesus Christ youâve made such a mess of things.Â
It was bad enough when you were pining like an idiot from afar; youâve had crushes before, and you know that you would have outgrown it eventually. But then you had your stupid little meltdown in front of Price, and revealed more than you intended, and all of a sudden youâve made yourself into a fool in front of the squad youâve tried so hard to impress these last few months.
You have to try hard not to spiral. In fact, itâs a challenge not to cave and grab your phone to call Laswell all over again to demand a reassignment right this second. You have a pretty good idea of what sheâd say to you in response, but still, the impulse remains.
All you can do is put it from your mind. You potter about, printing Farahâs photograph so you can tuck it neatly into her file with a paperclip, and then decide to start replying to the many emails that have built up in your absence.
The emails vary in tone, from polite enquiries to not-so-polite demands for you to solve some administrative issues, and you sigh quietly as you respond to some of the more snotty messages from upper management. And if youâre a little bit passive aggressive, then you donât think anyone can blame you.
Your mind has finally quietened, focusing on your work as the buzz of your thoughts settle down, when another knock sounds out from your door. This one is firmer than Farahâs soft knock from earlier, and a little louder, though this time you donât look up from your screen.
âCome in.â You call, chewing at your lip as you struggle to keep the wording of your email civil.
Youâre half-expecting it to be Soap this time around, or maybe one of the recruits hoping to get you to sign off on their leave. So when you finally glance up only to catch sight of the broad, thick-shouldered figure of Captain Price stepping into your office, you think you might go into cardiac arrest.
Email abandoned, you half jolt to your feet before changing your mind mid-movement and attempting to sit back down. It ends up being a humiliating sort of jerky motion, and you pray that he somehow missed it entirely.
âCaptain.â You wheeze, your voice coming out a little weak.
Priceâs cool blue eyes dart over your face and then down the length of your body, and you become suddenly, mortifyingly aware of the state youâre in. You might not want to admit it, but your wardrobe definitely changes when the Captain isnât on deployment. Instead of professional trousers, you wear your tight knee-length pencil skirts and fitted shirts, and totter around in your heels. And itâs silly, but⊠well, you canât help but notice the way Priceâs eyes follow you when you dress like that, and you like his attention on you.
Except today, you hadnât been planning on running into Price. You hadnât planned on seeing anyone, so you had dressed for comfort â youâre wearing a pair of frumpy grey wool trousers and a super over-sized soft purple sweater that practically swallows you whole. You havenât even done your hair nicely, and you curse yourself. This has to be the least sexy youâve looked in months.
âDâyouâve a moment, love?âÂ
His voice seems loud in the quiet of your office, even though realistically you know heâs only speaking in a murmur. In the quiet days youâve spent alone in your apartment, youâd almost forgotten how lovely and low and gruff his voice is, and you feel your toes curl in your shoes at the sound of it.
Itâs not as though you can refuse him, though youâre already embarrassingly aware of the way in which you had stormed off the last time you had seen him.
âYeah.â You swallow thickly in an attempt to strengthen your voice, but it still comes out high and thready. âSure.â
As if he had just been waiting for permission, Price steps into the room properly and closes the door behind him. All of a sudden, the room feels a little claustrophobic. Price is a big man, broad-shouldered and thickly built with a soft layer of fat cushioning those hard muscles, and you canât help but feel as though his presence is sucking all of the air out of the room.
But still, he approaches slowly, like youâre some kind of feral cat. Those sharp eyes of his are still tracking over you; he never misses a beat, and you know that heâs taking stock of you in the same way he would for an enemy out on the field. You feel raw, uncomfortably vulnerable. You find yourself wishing wildly and ridiculously that you had worn your usual fitted shirt and pencil skirt, or at least put on a bit of makeup.
âYou look rested.â He notes, coming to a slow stop just in front of your desk.
You suddenly curse your last minute choice to stay seated, because now Priceâs big body is towering over you in a way thatâs honestly making your head swim a little.
âYeah.â Your voice is a little hoarse. âI guess.â
Price nods, inhales through his nose. A moment passes before he clears his throat and reaches out to place a handful of files on your desk. Despite the plain manila envelopes, you recognise them for what they are almost immediately; the personnel files for 141.
âFinished âem off for you while you were gone.â He says gruffly, as though it were no big deal. âNearly had to nail Soap down to a chair for that damn photo.â
You stare at the files for a long moment, making no move to open them. You find yourself totally, utterly lost for words.Â
âThis isââ You start to say, and truthfully youâre not sure where youâre going with that. You think youâre about to thank him, but he doesnât really give you the chance to.
âWhy donât we talk?â He says, and motions to the dinky little couch in the corner of the room as if he owns it.
You hesitate a moment, a little peeved about the effortless way he takes command in your own office, but relent and push yourself up from the desk. You donât make eye contact with Price as you step around him, walking to the corner, but you can feel his eyes on you all the same.
 The couch had come with the office, and you donât even really want to think about how old it is, but you sink down awkwardly onto it anyway. The cushions are worn and threadbare and the springs creak gratingly when you settle your weight onto it, but itâs fine. It does the job.
Youâre half-expecting Price to drag the spare chair at your desk over so he can sit opposite you â youâre not expecting him to step right up next to you before he drops down next to you, sighing as his thick thighs spread wide.
You barely bite back a squeak, a little bewildered. Youâre not surprised that heâs asked to talk to you. Your behaviour had been wildly inappropriate, and you couldnât exactly protest if heâs decided to caution you or something.
But you had expected it to be a more formal affair; sitting together on the pathetic, dingy little couch in your office feels entirely too casual for the dressing down youâre sure youâre about to receive.
âThink weâre due a discussion about the other day.â He says, gentler than you had been expecting.
You avoid his eyes, though you can feel his stare boring into the side of your face. Ugh. Time to eat humble pie, you think miserably.Â
âIâm sorry, sir.â You keep your voice as dispassionate and prim as possible. âMy behaviour was unprofessional and entirely unacceptable, and I have no excuse. It wonât happen again, I assure you.â
Itâs as professional an apology as you can manage, and you chance a quick side glance at him to see his reaction. Your stomach sinks when you see that his brow is creased in a frown, and you panic a little at the realisation that your apology hasnât helped matters at all.
âWell,â His voice is gruff enough to elicit a little shiver from you. âI wasnâtââ He clears his throat. âI wasnât looking for an apology.â
That finally makes you turn properly, your eyes darting nervously over his face. Heâs already watching you, his blue eyes searing under the brim of his stupid hat. Heâs trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him; the salt and pepper bristles of his moustache and chops are neat and shortened. He looks good, though you try not to notice. He doesnât look as dehydrated or drained as he did a few days ago either, though he still leans into the couch with an air of quiet exhaustion.
âPaperwork has never been my favourite thing in the world,â He confesses with an air of chagrin thatâs painfully endearing to you. âAlways found it a pain, to be honest. Puts me right out of sorts. I was⊠short with you, the other day.â
You frown, making yourself small on the couch. âYou said I wasnât necessary.â
Price winces, then reaches up and pulls his boonie hat off his head so that he can drag a hand over his short-cropped hair. Though you had insulted it only the other day, it strikes you as odd to see him with a bare head.
âShouldnât have said that.â He mumbles, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hat hang from his hands. âYouâve been great these last few months. Donât know what Iâd have done without you, sometimes.â
Youâre stupid. Itâs the only reason you can think of to explain the way blood rushes to your head and turns your face hot, your whole body going hot and prickly in response to his low praise. You fidget, glance away, and pray he doesnât notice.Â
âYou know Iâm no good at deskwork,â He says, and leans in a little closer like he thinks youâre not listening properly. âDonât have the head for it. I think youâre the reason the team runs so smoothly in the first place, love.â
The flattery is being laid on a little too thick, but it works. You fall for it entirely, a warm glow settling over you like a blanket, wrapping around you tight and soothing the jagged edges of your anger and anxiety. You hate that youâre so easy to appease, a couple of sweet compliments and assurances falling from your Captainâs lips assuaging all that upset that youâve been carrying around with you for days now.
But still, part of you isnât quite willing to let go of the sting, the hurt that his words and his harsh tone had caused.Â
âIs this you apologising, then?â You ask, watching him from the corner of your eye.
He smiles, close-mouthed. âYeah. It is. Not doinâ too good, am I?â
âYouâre doing okay.â You murmur, before deciding to try to be a bit cheeky. âBut you can keep going, if youâd like.â
Price laughs, rich and warm and low. You donât think youâve ever actually heard him laugh in all the months youâve been working with the task force, and the sound of it rumbles right into your bones, settling something inside of you and finally allowing you to relax. No longer tense with stress, you melt a little into the corner of the couch.
âShouldnât have snapped at you,â He says slowly. âYou do good work. Great work. You shouldnât feel like youâre not a valued member of the team.â
You swallow thickly. You feel too warm, your head swimming a little. His attention feels too heavy, heating your blood and going straight to your head.
âI overreacted,â You mumble reluctantly. âI shouldnât⊠your hat isnât stupid.â
That gets another bark of laughter out of Price, and he slaps a hand down onto your knee. The contact makes you jolt, eyes widening, but Priceâs hand doesnât shift. His palm is so large, spread across your thigh as his fingers curl over your knee. The touch feels almost scorching even through the thick fabric of your trousers.
All of a sudden, your tongue feels very thick in your mouth. The hand on your knee is not in any way suggestive; itâs chaste, innocent, just resting there like a reminder that he wants your attention on him (as if it could be anywhere else). But your nerves are jangling all of a sudden, every one of your senses straining towards him as you hold your breath.
âThe hat isnât the problem,â Price mutters, though you barely hear him. âI wanted to ask you about something else you said, love. Something you said about your father.â
That has some of the heat in your veins cooling, your eyes blowing wide. âIâ what?â
To your bewilderment, Priceâs cheeks have reddened beneath the whiskers of his beard and moustache. Despite his clear chagrin, he doesnât break eye contact with you, his thick fingers squeezing cautiously around your knee.Â
âDonât mean to overstep,â He assures you quietly. âAndâ and donât mind me if Iâm talkinâ nonsense. But I know that youâve been working so hard, and youâve got a tough job. Canât be easy. And I just wanted to say that if you'd like some⊠guidance â someone to steer you on the right path, that isâ well, that Iâm here if you ever want to talk."
Oh god. You feel your mouth go dry.Â
Itâs funny, because even though Price isnât even yet forty, heâs always seemed so much older. Maybe itâs the weight of the responsibility that he carries on his shoulders, or the battle-hardened icy blue eyes, or the paternal sense of protectiveness that he shows over his team. Heâs always been like an almost father figure for the squad, regardless of age; youâve seen the way heâs so protective over Ghost, the way he claps Soap on the back or shoulders in praise to boost him up, the way he beams with pride when Farah excels, the way he always makes time to guide or give advice to Gaz.
Itâs sweet. Heâs always been sweet, so aware of the personalities on his team, even when heâs acting like that typical military authority figure.Â
"Sounds like you want to be my daddy." You mean to say it in a derogatory fashion, laughing as though it's ridiculous, though when it comes out you can hear that itâs missing some of the sarcasm you had intended.
Price reacts instantly. He reels back, eyes widening, the pink in his cheeks flares into a deep red flush, and you see his chest heave as his breath catches. You hadnât been expecting a reaction like this; Price looks as though the words have hit him like a physical slap.
âJesus. Thatâs notââ He says, and the gravelly hoarseness in his voice is a shock. âThatâs not what I meant.â
Thereâs a moment of charged silence. Fuck, what have you done? Why would you say that? Why would you say that, to the captain of your task force? Hadnât you embarrassed yourself enough in front of him the day you had had your silly little meltdown? Itâs like you just canât keep your damn mouth shut around him, like your brain turns to mush the second he looks at you and you just lose the run of yourself.
âIâm sorry.â You blurt. âI shouldnât have said that. I donât know whatâ I didnât mean it.â
The next silence is even worse than the last, tension humming between you like a live wire. Heâs so close to you that his scent fills your nose â a blend of sweet cigar smoke, sharp gunpowder, and a heady masculine musk. You feel so fucking stupid, and more than a little panicked. You donât think you could survive the humiliation of having to call Laswell and beg for a reassignment twice in one day just because youâve completely humiliated yourself in front of the Captain again.
Price swallows, the sound painfully loud in the silence.
âRight.â He says slowly, before coughing roughly to clear his throat. âMm. âCourse. I didnât mean toâ perhaps I overstepped. Since you mentioned your fatherââ
âI donât want to talk about my father.â You say swiftly.
God, you feel like your issues are out on display with a big damn spotlight. You feel so pathetic, so damn pitiful, as though your desperate need for approval and affection from an older male authority figure is written across your forehead.
But if your issues are on display, then so are Priceâs, because you canât help but notice that the vibrant red flush on his cheeks hasnât faded. If anything, that deep flush has spread down his throat and over his chest; you can see how the skin thatâs stretched over his pectoral muscles is glowing crimson beneath his shirt.
A niggling boldness begins to creep in, and you find yourself straightening on the couch. You turn, bring one of your legs up on the couch so that you can turn your whole body towards him, one of your elbows resting on the back cushion of the couch.Â
Priceâs eyes sharpen when your body turns towards him, and his body draws tense. Those cool blue eyes dart over you, and youâre surprised to see heat in them despite your oversized purple jumper and unflattering wool trousers. The whisper of his fatigues brushing against the fabric of your own trousers is both a distraction and an invitation, your thighs sliding surreptitiously against each other.
âWhat if I did mean it?â You blurt out before your courage can flee you.
Price goes so still it looks preternatural, even the breaths in his chest slowing.Â
âKid.â He says, and it sounds like a warning.
You donât heed it, adjusting yourself so that youâre shuffling closer yet again. You donât think youâve ever been so close to him, his scent and his body and his heated gaze filling up your consciousness until heâs all that youâre aware of.
âWhat if I meant it?â You ask again, the whisper coming out low but charged.Â
Price takes a breath that sounds like a groan, and it surprises you. You hadnât expected that reaction; it sends a trickle of heated desire running down your spine, and youâre startled by how much you want him in this moment.
âDâyou know what youâre asking for?â He asks, the gravel in his voice flooding wet heat between your legs.Â
His carefully laced words linger in the space between you, daring you to accept, to shred the formal boundary that looms between the two of you. You get the sense that youâre walking a fine line here, that youâre getting close to the point of no return.Â
âYes.â You breathe, although youâre not entirely sure that you do know what youâre asking for. All you know is that heâs so close, and heâs staring at you with an expression of such hunger that itâs making you feel weak.
Price moves fast for such a big man, and all you can do is let out a soft sound of surprise when one of his big hands wraps around the back of your neck to pull you in. A deep, guttural sound escapes him when his lips crash into yours, his mouth demanding and greedy.
It feels like you go both lax and rigid simultaneously, before you positively light up. The hand that Price has wrapped around the back of your neck keeps you grounded, and before you can stop yourself youâre burrowing closer. It feels like the tension, your childish argument, the sexual friction â everything has culminated to this electrifying moment, where Priceâs full lips are consuming yours, the hair of his beard rubbing over your cheeks and chin and keeping your nerves straining towards him.
The kiss doesnât start out slow; it skips straight to hungry, fast and dirty, with Priceâs big hands on your hip and the back of your neck, holding and guiding you. Overwhelming.Â
Priceâs big fucking body is leaning in, caging you against the couch. The wide shoulders and barrel-chested mass of him pressing you into the cushions is just short of breath-taking, but itâs not enough. You want to be right up against him, under his skin.
You swing your leg over Priceâs, and climb up into his lap. His thighs are thick beneath you, wide and muscled, but youâre still hesitant to fully settle your weight against him. You just want to be closer, to feel the heat of him pressed against you, but the second you start moving Price grabs at your hips and pulls you down properly, uncaring of your weight.
âIâve beenââ You manage to say in between kisses, your words muffled and a little wet. âIâve been working my ass off, for the squad, for you, and you never say or do anythingââ
Price grunts, grappling with his sudden lapful of you. His eyes meet yours, and in them, you think you might see the spark of admiration, for your brave stupidity if nothing else.Â
âSh, I know,â He says as he grips at your hips under your oversized jumper, encouraging you to settle down your full weight on his thighs. âI know, love, youâve been working so hard. What would I do without you, huh?â
And the thing is, youâre a very capable woman. Youâve had to be, in order to survive in your line of work. You know that youâre capable, you know that you do good work, you know that you help keep the wheels greased and everything moving behind the scenes for the 141, but even still, Priceâs praise sinks into you like warm honey.
âWatching you walk around in those tight little skirts, Christ.â He hums, and his big palms land on your ass and squeeze there suggestively. âAnd those heelsâ completely impractical for a military base like this.â
You wheeze a laugh, clutching at his shoulders. It feels completely surreal that youâre currently perched in your Captainâs lap, with his big shovel-like hands groping your bum as he nips at your lips and confesses that heâs been watching you. It goes straight to your head, makes you dizzy, makes you wish wildly that you had worn one of those skirts for him today.
Oh, you could get used to this. Realistically you know the size difference between you two isnât that immense, but Price is built like a man whose reality is all war, and when he shifts beneath you his muscles roll, unwittingly showing off his physique. You think you could stay here forever, feeling safe in a big manâs lap, cushioned by his body as he tells you that youâre valuable, and important.
âFuckinâ hell,â Price groans, nipping at your lower lip before capturing your mouth wholly again. âYouâre a handful.â
Youâd love to argue that â you like to think that youâre perfectly measured and sensible, after all â but youâre already squirming in his lap, your legs spread wide over his thighs. Arousal pools in your stomach, makes you slick your knickers, and you canât stop the slow grind your hips trace against his thigh.
Priceâs breath shudders out of his chest, and his hands clench tight around your hips. âHang on a sec,â He breathes, âHold on. Iâm stillâ Iâm still your Captainââ
You think that itâs meant to be a warning, or at least a word of caution about the precarious situation youâre in regarding professionalism and inappropriate workplace relationships. What youâre doing right now is ridiculous, after all. Youâre still on base, youâre in your office, and if the two of you get caught you donât even want to think about the consequences. The fraternisation rule shouldnât apply here, since youâre only considered part of the team by a mere technicality, but even in your lust-hazed mind you can still recognise that sitting on his lap and kissing like this at your workplace is wildly inappropriate.
But if it is a warning, it doesnât work. The reminder of his authority only inflames you further, and a quiet whimper is torn from your throat when you rock against his lap.
He swears, and beneath you his cock stirs in his fatigues. You can feel the way it fills out where itâs pressed against the seam of your trousers, right between your legs. You reflexively squish your thighs together, tightening them around his hips.
âChrist,â He grits out like a curse. âAlright, then.â
He moves quickly, his hands secure on your back as he lunges forward, flipping you over so that youâre laying on your back on the shoddy, worn-down couch. You go so easily âÂ
youâre soft now, pliable and eager to please, and he could direct you anywhere he wanted.
Heâs too large to be climbing on top of you on a couch like this, but somehow it doesnât even matter. Now that heâs above you, holding himself up with those strong arms on either side of your head, he looks down on you with an expression that you donât know what to make of. His eyes are still intense, but the lines around them are softened as he stares down, his gaze tracing your face.Â
âYou think I havenât been looking?â He asks, and his voice isnât as harsh or gritty as youâd been expecting. Itâs softer now, fond, almost. âHow could I fuckinâ miss you? Always so pretty, always workinâ so hard. âCourse I noticed.â
When his fingers creep beneath your big purple jumper, you launch into helping him remove it, eagerly stripping it off so youâre laying in your bra. Itâs one of your simple utilitarian ones, and you curse yourself for not wearing a sexier one.
But Price groans at the sight of your simple white cotton as though itâs premium lace. His palms are rough as they trace up your sides, the callouses on his fingers coarse against the soft squishy flesh of your belly. He leans forward and nuzzles at your ear, kissing behind your lobe before scraping his teeth along your jaw until heâs kissing messily at your mouth all over again.
âSo gorgeous.â He says, his voice a low rumble that has your nerves buzzing. âI was too mean to you before, wasnât I? Too harsh, when all you were trying to do was help.â
âYes.â You whisper, though you feel a little bit petulant for it.
âLet me make up for it, darling,â He whispers back, and it sounds like a plea. âHm? Iâll show you how good youâve been.â
Youâre nodding before he even finishes, desperate. God, yes. Youâre not even sure what it is that heâs offering, but you know that youâll take anything that he has to give you.
Heâs looming over you, so large, as his hands fall to the closure on your work trousers. His fingers are so thick that he fumbles with the delicate button and little zip, and it takes him a couple of tries to pull it open and down. When heâs got it, he shucks your trousers off easily and tosses them aside, then stares down at you in your ugly shapeless underwear as though youâre wearing something else entirely.
Even though youâre laying unclothed and vulnerable, squirming and wanting, Price is so slow to get moving. He doesnât grab at you, or grope greedily, or take impatiently. He acts as though heâs got all the time in the world, leisurely looking you over as though heâs committing you to memory.
âNeed you to say it,â He says, strained like heâs trying to hold himself back. âNeed you to say it out loud.â
âWant you to show me how good Iâve been.â You say immediately, your desire leaving no room for shame. âWant you to look after me.â
The request comes out a little bit plaintive, and Price sighs out before ducking his head and kissing you again. Heâs so much more affectionate than you had ever imagined, and you feel as though youâre drowning in it. His attention is like a warm blanket, settling every craving youâve ever had.
âI will,â He breathes like itâs a promise. âOh, I will.â
His palms are rough and hot as they drag over your skin, deceptively gentle as he reaches your tits and pushes your bra up so that he can knead at the soft flesh there. He doesnât even bother to unclasp it, impatient enough that shoving the cups up so to free your breasts is enough for him.Â
He bends his head down, and licks a stripe over your nipple. His tongue feels scorching against you, like youâre hypersensitive to his touch, and he groans against your skin as though heâs tasting something incredible.
You writhe, hips arching up in search of some kind of friction, but Price doesnât give it to you. Heâs too distracted, peppering dozens of kisses over your tits as though theyâre something precious even as his hands coast down your back to grope at your ass again where your plain cotton underwear is riding up.
âSo pretty, ainâtcha?â He groans against your chest. âFuck, even when you were walkinâ around with a face on you like a slapped arse, I thought you were the sweetest fuckinâ thing Iâd ever seen.â
âCharming.â You snap, but thereâs no anger in your tone anymore. In fact, you donât think thereâs a lick of anger anywhere in your whole body anymore, like Priceâs hands and mouth on you have washed it all away.
All the brattiness, and the prickliness of your bad mood, is entirely forgotten now that youâre laid out and squirming beneath him. You can hardly even remember what you had been so stressed and angry with him for.
He finally reaches around to unclasp your bra, then tosses it to the side to let it slump sadly to the floor. His next target is your underwear, pulled from you roughly enough that you think the fabric might tear even as his hands cradle the plush flesh of your ass like itâs a treasure.
âMm, so gorgeous, princess,â It seems like the name just slips out of his mouth, and you feel your whole body draw tense and hot. âSo lovely, and I bet you taste even better than you look⊠like sugar, my sweet girl.â
Jesus Christ. You think your whole fucking body throbs, blood pounding and nerves straining as you wish so desperately for him to touch you. You canât handle him talking to you like that, so fondly, as if you havenât just acted like the biggest brat in the world for several days straight.
You can hardly even reconcile this man with the usual stern, gruff man that acts as your Captain, and you let out a choked whine of bewilderment as he slides down your body.
Your thighs are clamped together, shy under his gaze despite how desperately eager you are. You want this, you want him, but you canât help but feel so mortified by the vulnerability of being nude beneath him on the couch while his big formidable body is still entirely clothed.
Priceâs fingers stroke against your hip, his tone low and rich as his lips find your throat again. You can feel his tongue darting out against your skin, his hunger so palpable now that itâs infectious.
âLet daddy see you,â He croaks against the hollow of your throat. âSpread your legs, sweetheart.â
Itâs not like you could ever say no to that. The request sends liquid heat shooting straight to your cunt, making you hot and sticky. You spread your thighs, and feel embarrassment flare when thereâs a squelch as your cunt unsticks. Andâ Jesus, Priceâs eyes fucking light up, and you realise that heâs clocked your reaction to his honeyed words, the way he calls himself daddy.
The kiss he gives you is claiming and hungry, consuming your lips with a fervour that leaves no room for doubt about his intentions. Itâs a taste of both command and reverence â in equal measure. When he pulls away from your mouth youâre breathless, still gasping softly even as he pushes himself down the length of your body.
In the blink of an eye, heâs there â between your welcoming thighs, his hands resting securely on your soft hips, as much a lifeline as a promise of whatâs to come. Your pussy is already sloppy, slick and wet in anticipation of him. He shoves his head between your thighs, using his thumbs to spread apart your folds and just look at you.
Your back arches at even the suggestion of his touch, feeling his breath ghost over the heated slick flesh of your cunt. Despite your obvious willingness, and his apparent eagerness, he doesnât immediately touch you.
You crane your neck to see that heâs staring at your pussy as though the sight of it is earth-shattering. His gaze drinks you in, heated blue eyes taking in the sight of your swollen sticky folds, no doubt throbbing invitingly under his attention. Youâve never seen a man look so hungry, like heâs about to risk anything for it. A dark, groaned "fuck" escapes him as he kneels between your spread legs, head bowed as if in reverence.
"Daddy needs a taste, sweet girl," His deep voice a heavy rumble, vibrating against your soft inner thighs.Â
It takes a beat for you to realise that heâs holding himself back, that heâs essentially asking for permission to lay his mouth on you, but then you gasp, âYes, fuck, yes, pleaseââ
Price takes it as the enthusiastic invitation that it is and bursts into movement immediately, reaching out and guiding your legs wider so that he can muscle in between them properly, before leaning in and finally getting his mouth on you.
You choke, hips aching as you try to spread your legs even further. Price drags the flat of his tongue along the seam of your cunt, groaning as though heâs savouring the taste of you, before wrapping his arms around your thighs to keep you all spread open for him as his tongue rasps over your sensitive flesh.
You want to call out for him, but his name stalls on your tongue. What would you call him â Price? John? Captain? Daddy? You think you would die if you said it out loud.
Then his tongue finds your clit, and your thoughts scatter. He flicks the tip of his tongue over you, back and forth, then flattens it to grind eagerly. You had thought, given the way he had taken that moment just to look at you before heâd pressed his mouth to you, that he would start slow. But instead, he gives you everything he has.
You cry out as he devours your cunt, his bushy eyebrows pulling up in delight as you give him your first moan. While your legs had spread wide in the beginning, eager to let him in, you now close them tight around his head to keep him in place. You have a brief, hazy thought that maybe this is an asshole move of you, a little like if a man were to hold your head down while you were sucking cock, but Price doesnât seem to mind. If anything, judging by the snarl he lets out when your thighs close around his ears, he likes it.
You toss your head back against the worn couch cushions as jolts of white-hot heat spread from where his mouth is working at you, playing with you, tongue painting long, broad strokes up and down your pussy.Â
Your cunt is syrupy hot, throbbing as his tongue rubs relentlessly at your clit. Youâre so fucking wet, and you canât help yourself from rolling your hips more assertively into his mouth. Youâre leaking on his mouth, his tongue, your slick drenching his cheeks and his beard.
Seized by a sudden urge to watch, you clumsily raise your head so you can look down. It feels entirely illicit, watching Priceâs head between your legs as he buries his face so enthusiastically into your folds. His eyes flash as he glances up, the bottom half of his face hidden entirely in your pussy as his jaw works, the soft hair of his beard tickling your sensitive inner thighs.
With a jolt, you realise that one of his hands has fallen to his lap, his trousers hastily pushed open. Heâs fisting at his dripping cock, red and angry and still begging for release against the thick dark hair of his stomach. Sticky pre-cum leaks from his flushed head, pooling into his skin and clothes as his cock bobs and twitches at the sounds of your moans.
The sudden realisation that Price is getting off on this, on the taste of you and the smell of you and the way youâre whining, sets you aflame. He grunts, one of his big handâs wrapping around his throbbing skin to pump his length to the rhythm of his tongue inside of you.
âOh, oh fuck,â You press your lips together, stomach pulling tight as his tongue thrusts up inside of you, âFuck, fuck, fuck thatâs so good, oh god, Captainââ
âYeah,â Price grunts, his words all wetly muffled, his arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep you in place as he feasts on you, sucking on your clit like itâs a sweet. âI know, baby, I know.â
Heâs so accommodating, so nice to you. You tilt your hips up and grind your cunt into his mouth, sighing in satisfaction as his tongue drags along your clit before dipping to lick inside of you. He barely even shifts when you hump your pussy into his face; he only opens his mouth wider, licks at you more enthusiastically as though your desperation is contagious.Â
Your belly goes hot and tight, and a high-pitched whimper is torn from your throat. It feels as though youâve been strung high and taut for months now, and your breath catches at your imminent orgasm. Youâve just been so stressed, and having Price hunched over you on the couch like this with your legs thrown up around his shoulders as he licks and sucks at you so eagerly that it has your eyes rolling in your head feels like itâs curing you.
You think, somewhat madly, that an orgasm like this, with Priceâs mouth sealed over your cunt, will solve every damn problem you have right now.
âWanna come, wanna come, Jesus fucking Christ, please pleaseââ Your chest heaves as you scramble, one of your hands reaching down to cup Priceâs head to keep him in place, face buried in your cunt. âOh god, please make me comeââ
Maybe itâs not fair to be so demanding of him, but to his credit Price responds with restless enthusiasm. You double over in pleasure as he heeds your broken little pleas, your nails scraping into the couch as you cling on for dear life. His tongue swirls over your clit quickly and with fervour, tight circles to make your vision go blurry.
Youâre lost in the sensation of his hot, wet mouth in your cunt, the way he licks into you like a starving man tasting his first meal. It feels like a sensation overload, as though youâre just completely lost to your own desire, but you just want more of what he is offering.Â
You grab his hair again and pull him closer, greedy with need, and he hums in affirmation as he allows you to guide his mouth to exactly where you need it. Arching your hips up, you grind into his mouth, chasing your orgasm. You groan, eyelids fluttering as you wrap your other leg around Priceâs shoulders, up around his neck, and his hand snakes around your thigh to anchor you there.
Priceâs fingers are gripping at your hips, surely hard enough to leave bruises there. You smile, almost deliriously; you could live with some souvenirs from tonight.
Your feeble gasps start to spiral into whimpers as that hot coil begins to tighten in your belly, and your toes start to curl. When your climax finally hits, it does so with a sense of relief that almost knocks you flat. Your body winds tight then releases, and you convulse in a wave of shudders that has you sobbing out loud.
Your chest heaves as you sob, squirming as Price licks at your clit insistently. It feels like your breath has caught in your chest, your toes curling so hard that your feet cramp. Youâre panting like a damn dog as your orgasm rocks through you, until the waves of it subside and you can finally get a full breath again.
From one second to the next your nerves turn red-hot and oversensitive, and you clamp your thighs shut around Priceâs ears and whimper-whine pathetically. Mercifully, he gets your unspoken message easily, and finally pulls back, chuckling breathlessly to himself as he pushes your legs apart in order to retreat.
âFuck,â He says, and his voice comes out as harsh and gravelly as youâve ever heard it. âJesus Christ. Knew youâd taste sweet, knew that youâd come so pretty.â
The praise practically slams into you, ripping through you like a forest fire. It feels like youâve lost your breath all over again, and ridiculously you suddenly feel shy.Â
âIâThatââ You start to say, but you still feel a little fuzzy-headed from your orgasm and your thoughts fizz away like TV static.Â
âMhm, I know, sweet girl.â He murmurs hoarsely as though you had said something coherent.Â
When Price finally sits up, you blink hazily. He had been all hunched over you, crammed into the corner of the couch in order to squeeze himself between your thighs like that, but now that heâs straightening back up again youâre reminded with a tired jolt just how big and broad and strong he is.
A small, self-conscious part of your brain screams at you to close your legs. Your thighs are still spread wide, your cunt on display; youâre still all sloppy and wet, spit-slick and dripping, all puffy from the attention Price had lavished on you with his mouth.
But instead of closing your legs, you let your thighs fall open a little wider and shift restlessly under his intense gaze. Your desire makes you stupid â how could you ever experience anything as mundane as self-consciousness when heâs staring at you like that? Heâs looking at you like he wants to fall atop you all over again, and you feel yourself throb â you feel so empty, your body craving something to fill you.
And Price notices the way you keep yourself all spread for him, the way you donât make any move to cover yourself. Beneath his beard, his face splits into a wide smile, the apples of his cheeks practically glowing with pride.
âOh, my girl, you're so pretty. Just the loveliest girl in the world with your beautiful face and your hair all wild like that.â He leans in then, and presses a hungry kiss to your mouth. He tastes salty-sweet, the iron tang of yourself lingering on his lips. His beard is wet too, practically soaked through.
You gasp when he pulls back, overwhelmed by the kiss and the praise and the electric aftershocks of your orgasm. âYour beard is wet.â You observe dumbly.
He chuckles, as though youâve said something terribly endearing. âOf course it is, sweetheart. Thatâs all you.â
You mumble a little incoherently, mostly because youâve just spotted the way his trousers are still unbuttoned and his hard, swollen cock is jutting out from the band of his boxers. Itâs angry looking, the head of it so red it looks a little painful, and you feel a sudden urge to return the favour seize you.
But when you reach out, Price is quick to grab your wrist. He transfers his grip to your hand swiftly so you donât feel as though youâre being held down, his wide palm and thick fingers winding around yours.
âDonât have to do that, love.â He grunts, shifting. Heâs looming over you, hips tilted towards you and his wide shoulders blocking out your view of the office. âDâyou think you could take me?â
It takes you a moment for your slow, stupid brain to catch up and process what heâs asking you. Then you nod swiftly, eyes widening. You're wet and sticky and so so empty, and you have no doubt your body is so ready to take him inside.Â
Youâre still a little limp and drained from the satisfaction of your orgasm, but you keep your thighs spread and wait eagerly for him to touch you again. He doesnât keep you waiting long; he coos softly at you as he adjusts himself, kissing your tummy then up your sternum and back to your throat. The soft, sweet kisses distract you as he presses his hips between your thighs.
You gasp softly, your clit sensitive enough that when his cock rubs against it, you jolt. Despite the overload of sensation, you find yourself grinding back against him, so desperate for something. As if he can sense what you need, he presses a kiss to your jaw and dips a hand between your thighs. Two thick, calloused fingers circle your clit for a moment and make you whimper, only to dip lower and press inside you.
His fingers are larger than yours, but they still slip into you so damn easily that itâs embarrassing. You barely even feel a stretch, your body so eager for him that your cunt practically sucks his fingers up.
The worst part is the way Price laughs, all soft and breathy as he rubs his callous-roughened fingers into the spongey walls of your cunt.Â
âOh, fuck,â He murmurs, his lips dragging over your overheated skin. âYeah, youâll take me just fine.â
You burn with embarrassment, but you still donât close your legs. Itâs silly, but thereâs still an element of pride as his fingers rub against the soft inside of your pussy; you want him to see how much you want him, how well youâll take him. Itâs obvious how wet you are, and you hope heâs imagining how good youâll feel on the inside.
âNeed you to turn over for me, love.â He murmurs, gripping at your hips and easing you over so that youâre on your belly beneath him. âThatâs it, arse up. My knees arenât what they used to be. Make it easy for me.â
You usually would make a joke about that, some sort of jab about being old before his time, but you simply donât have the mental capacity for it. Youâre too busy dropping to rest your weight on your elbows as you stick your ass up towards him, arching your back and hoping you look pretty.
He doesnât waste any more time, much to your relief. Your mouth drops open with a sigh as you feel the blunt head of his cock glide between your slick folds, tapping once against your clit just to watch the way your legs jerk, then finally lining up with your entrance and pressing lightly in. His cock notches, catches, then slides in so slowly that it makes you want to scream.
âGotta let me in, petal.â He says, using his grip on your hips to pull you back onto his cock in increments. âRelax, relax.â
You had wanted this, youâre more eager than you think youâve ever been for anyone in your life, and yet Price is a big man and the stretch makes your breath stall in your lungs. Your cunt is sucking his cock in further with a hunger thatâs almost embarrassing, even as you wince a little at the feeling of being stretched out to your limits. Though youâre wet and eager and ready, two of Priceâs fingers briefly testing inside werenât quite enough to prepare you for how fat his cock is.Â
Your head is spinning. Youâve never taken a cock this big with so little stretching, but neither you nor Price are patient enough to wait. But the stretch feels good, and you find yourself wheezing like a moron as he presses inside inch by inch.
âFuck⊠you alright, love?â Price breathes, adjusting his knees on the couch behind you and wrapping his hands around your hips. The motion only succeeds in shifting him far enough away to make you aware of the feeling of him sliding into you again. You both groan, and you feel Price twitch, deep inside you.
âFuck,â You moan, breath gasping out of you. âYouâre fucking huge.â
It feels like youâre learning for the very first time what it really means to be full. For a few seconds, it feels like you canât even breathe. It feels like his cock is lodged somewhere in your belly, forcing the breath from your lungs as he nestles his way deeper into the eager clutch of your body.
âAm Iâ sâit too much, honey?â He asks, his voice rough and low as his hands squeeze at the flesh at your hips. âNeed me to take it out?â
âNo!â You blurt, and your body clenches up hard as though youâre trying to lock him in and keep him from escaping. âDonât you dare!â
His cock still feels so big, and when you tighten up as hard as you do it almost feels as though heâs fucking impaling you. Price groans as though heâs been shot, and his head lowers so that heâs burying his face into the space between your shoulderblades. His body lowers too until his chest is pressed to your back, joined at the hips as he rocks inside of you.Â
âOkay,â He grunts, and you can feel his chest expand as he takes a breath. âOkay, love, but you need to relax. Youâre going to squeeze my cock right off.â
âSorry.â You try to do as he asks, taking a deep breath and allowing your body to go limp and pliant. He grunts in appreciation, and you feel his whiskery beard rasp against your throat as he presses a kiss to your neck as if to reward you.
Your spine is still taut from the pressure of being all stretched out around his cock, and you reach back clumsily to grasp at his belly, the soft fabric of his shirt rucking up between your fingers. Price reaches back and grabs at the neck of his own shirt, tearing it over his head then tossing it aside. Your eyes are all hazy and a little blurred from your overwhelmed tears, but you look back over your shoulder and blink frantically in an attempt to get a proper look at him.Â
God, heâs so big and strong, his chest furred with a layer of brown hair curling in whorls over his nipples and down over his belly. You feel yourself pulse in response, your mouth dropping open in a thoughtless gasp of desire. Heâs exactly the kind of man you think of when you think of masculinity, and your belly tightens in anticipation when he presses all up against you, heavy and hot.
When he begins to pull out and press back in, the noise you make is utterly pathetic. It feels like he cleaving you in two, carving out a space for his cock every time he fucks back into you. Heâs cautious at first, conscious of hurting you, but when your thighs close around his hips he grunts and begins to pick his pace up.
âChrist, youâre tight,â Price says, his voice all rough and muffled against your shoulder. âAnd you're all mine, love, my own sweet girl, ainât that right? And daddy's gonna love you so good, isnât he?â
âYes,â You gasp stupidly, pressing your face into the couch cushions.
Typically, you find that doggy style can be a position thatâs a little detached â usually, you like seeing the face of the person youâre fucking. But right now, with Price plastering his whole hairy body against your back as he ruts into you and the sweet filthy words heâs murmuring to you, this position feels so far from detached that it has your head spinning. It feels like heâs blanketing you, the heat from his skin igniting what feels like an inferno between the two of you. Sweat beads at your forehead, and you moan softly as Price begins to fuck you properly.
Youâre bouncing against the couch, clutching at the cushions as your body moves under the weight of Priceâs powerful thrusts. The sound of it is sloppy and wet, your bodies smacking together quick and hard. And fuck, it feels good. His cock is hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you, and your entire body jolts with pleasure every time he pounds back in.Â
Itâs enough to make you squeal, your nails scrabbling desperately for purchase on the threadbare couch cushions in an attempt to stabilise yourself. Your nipples are sensitive from Priceâs licking at sucking at them, and your toes curl as your tits are pressed into the rough-textured cushions, electrifying your nerves to the point of almost too-much.Â
The noises you make are entirely undignified, and you struggle to muffle them into the couch. Little burbling ah ah ahâs are being torn from your throat every time Price fucks into you, the sensation of his furred balls slapping against you with every thrust has your eyes rolling.
Your body is all loose and pliant from your earlier orgasm, and you whimper as though youâre being fucked absolutely stupid. Itâs not that heâs fucking you all that hard, but heâs filling you up so deliciously and knowing that itâs him, your Captain, the man that youâve worked so damn hard to impress and to please, makes you feel like youâre going to explode. Even through the haze of desire and pleasure, a little part of you is still so aware of making him happy. You keep your back arched, practically waving your ass up in the air as he fucks into you.
âTell me how you like it, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.â Price says in a low, rough purr. His chest is still pressed to your back even as the two of you pant and sweat as you rock together. âTell daddy how good he's making you feel.â
Jesus Christ, Price feels like a fucking furnace against you. It feels almost as though youâve been glued together, your skin sweat slick as he ruts into you like an animal. Your lungs are burning, and your mind is completely scattered. Getting fucked like this feels feels primal, an exchange of power through pleasure; youâre aware that heâs asked you a question, but you can hardly string two thoughts together. All you can do is squirm and whimper in below him as his weight pins you in place.
âGood,â You groan, vaguely aware that tears are leaking from your eyes and soaking the couch beneath you. Your vision is blurred, and you canât even see straight. âI justâ itâs so muchââ
âI know,â He rumbles. âBut you can take it, canât you? Youâve been so good, sweetheart.â
The praise does exactly what heâs hoping for; you practically melt into a puddle beneath him. Your thoughts are slow and sluggish, and your jaw hangs open as you fucking drool. Even still, you manage to nod your head clumsily. You can take him â it feels like a point of pride to prove it now, to show off how good you can be.
Priceâs rhythm is practically machine-like, and you make a quiet sound of pure appreciation when his cock slams into that gummy spot inside of you that makes you lose your breath. Itâs as though he takes note of it, because from that point on he stays absolutely jackhammering into that little spot, making you see stars and have to bite your lip to stifle your moans. His balls would slam against your clit in a repeated motion that made your underbelly tighten like a coil so close to snapping.
He groans every time he sinks into you, his growls rumbling into your back and ratcheting up the intensity another notch. You feel lost in a sea of sensation, moored only by the places of contact between you and Price. Your hips are humping back against Priceâs cock unconsciously, unable to help yourself and unable to get enough of him.
âI wanna come again,â You say, and it comes out in a demanding sort of whine. Itâs a little humbling to hear yourself and realise that you sound so honest to god bratty, but you canât bring yourself to care when Price is apparently in such a giving mood today.Â
âYouâre gonna come, love.â He promises. His voice has that tone to it, the one youâve always tried to ignore during work because it makes you so horny. The authoritative one, when it drops just a bit in pitch, when it sounds just a little like a threat.
But despite his promise, he doesnât change his steady pace. Youâre just this side of overwhelmed, but you still need more to push you over the edge into the second orgasm thatâs simmering in your lower stomach.Â
âPlease, daddy,â You let the name pass your lips on a whimper, finally giving in and calling him by the title heâs so clearly craving. Heâs fucked all the shame out of your body at this point, leaving you with nothing but white hot desperation. âPlease, please make me come againââ
âFuckinâ Christââ
Priceâs arm reaches around your front, and youâre startled when his big palm wraps around your throat. You think for a moment that youâre about to get choked, but no pressure follows. He just grips you there, gentle and secure, before using his hold on you to pull you back against him so that heâs rutting up into you at a speed thatâs overwhelming in the best way. His other arm reaches around your belly so that he can rub at your clit as he rails you into the couch. His soft grip on your throat ensures that no matter how much you try to squirm your way back into meeting his thrusts, youâre forced into stillness.Â
Itâs exactly what you wanted, and it has you wheezing and hiccuping out moans on every stroke. Itâs better than you ever could have hoped for, and youâre nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly as he strokes at your clit hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking.
You know that youâre already starting to shake, trembling from head to toe. You canât even keep your back arched anymore, though you donât think Price gives a shit because he just nuzzles at the base of your shoulder as he fucks into you. Between his cock and his fingers, everything just feels too much but your body is strung taut as you proverbially climb higher and higher.
âOh god, Iâmâ yes, yes, yesââ You chant, your voice high and reedy and so damn needy.
Then the world falls out from under you. With one last whimpering moan, your body convulses beneath the heavy weight of your captainâs big body. Your vision practically wipes out, and you squeeze down around Priceâs dick and pulse. Your whole body rocks with the flood of pleasure, the warm fuzzy feeling that makes you feel as though youâre losing your mind. You know that your hips are twitching madly, simultaneously trying to get more and less as you get overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you through it all.
Youâre still coming down from the sweet release of your orgasm when Price practically tears himself away from you, leaving you cruelly empty and clenching around nothing. You let out a sharp sound of loss, startled that heâs pulled away so suddenly, and you find yourself slumping bonelessly against the couch now that his hands are no longer supporting you.
The wet shlurping sounds from behind you prompt you to glance lazily over your shoulder from where your face is smushed against the cushions, and youâre blessed with the sight of Price tugging his cock furiously behind you. His cheeks are bright red as he stares at the mess heâs made of you, his jaw soft and his mouth open as he pants.
He sees you looking, and whatever expression is on your face seems to be his undoing. He takes in your tear-clumped eyelashes and your dazed expression, and you can practically see the moment he hurtles over the edge. He practically snarls, his nose scrunching in a way thatâs unexpectedly adorable right as his cock gives one fat pump of thick white come, then several smaller sputterings that collect in a creamy puddle right at the base of your spine, just over the swell of your ass.
You sigh, your eyelids fluttering lazily shut as you relish the feeling of his hot come hitting your skin. You still canât manage to pull yourself together, feeling loose and floaty like youâre on another fucking planet entirely. Youâre only distantly aware of his big palm rubbing gentle circles on the small of his back; you think for a second that heâs just trying to soothe you, until your fucked out brain catches up and you realise that heâs rubbing his come into you like itâs goddamn lotion. Your cunt gives a tired throb at the realisation, fluttering as though itâs sad that he didnât come inside.
âFuckâŠâ You hear him rumble from behind you, then a hot heavy weight settling over you yet again. This time, he pulls you back into his arms to hold you tight against his chest.Â
You go perfectly limp, curling into him and nuzzling into his sweaty hairy chest. Despite yourself, youâre reminded of cuddling with a massive teddy bear. All you can do is hum, basking in the affection and hardly able to think at this point after heâs turned your brain into a slurry of feelings without thoughts.
âYou okay, love?â Price asks. You can feel his nose nuzzling against your temple, though you canât quite summon the energy to open your eyes again. âDid I go too hard on you?â
Your legs are still shaky, your hamstrings aching and your back throbbing a little from the pounding youâve just taken. But Price is being so lovely and soft, so gentle with you right now. His hands coast over your hips, your back, your waist, squeezing a little bit just because he seems to like the way you feel in his hands.
âShhh,â You drawl shakily. âDonât make me think right now.â
A low chuckle, and you feel his broad chest rumble with it where your head is laying atop him. His fingers run up the length of your spine, the touch making you shiver. He touches you like youâre delicate, a stark contrast to the way heâd just fucked you into your sad little office couch. It makes something in your belly squirm.
âAlright. My girl just needed to switch off for a while, hm?â He murmurs, and you can hear the clear undertone of amusement in his voice. âHow are you going to finish out work today if youâre all sleepy like this, huh?â
That wakes you up a little, and you finally blink your eyes open again in order to look up at him. An edge of panic is beginning to creep in as awareness comes back to you, and you take a deep breath as your hands curl against his chest.
âOh my god.â You blurt, eyes growing wide. âIâ weâre at work!â
âSharp as ever, darling.â
Not even Priceâs lazy wryness can distract you now. You try to wiggle off the couch, already craning your head around in search of your clothes, but Priceâs thick arm locks tight around your middle and keeps you pressed to him.
âWe have toâ oh my god, we have to get dressed, what if someone walks inââ
âShh, shhh, I locked the door when I came in,â Price grumbles. He doesnât appear too impressed with the way youâre attempting to wiggle away, but it doesnât matter so much; even with one arm heâs perfectly capable of keeping you pinned in place against his chest. âLie back down, love.â
Slowly, you let yourself relax back into him. Itâs hard to hold onto your panic when heâs so obviously unbothered, so you end up hesitantly snuggling back up against his chest as his arms come up to close around you. Despite his encouragement, youâre unsure whether or not youâre allowed to be touching him like this. But his hands donât stray from you, not even once, and gradually you return to your previous state of being a puddle of limbs and pliant muscle.
âThatâs it, relax.â He coaxes, clearly pleased now that youâre melting back into him.Â
âI have so much work to catch up on.â You grumble, though you have no intention of actually going anywhere now that heâs given you the greenlight to stay like this.
His chest vibrates beneath your cheek, and you realise heâs chuckling again. It feels good, and you sigh softly as your fingers stroke lightly over the defined shape of his soft pecs.
âYou think I wasnât capable of keeping the ship afloat for the couple of days you were gone?â He asks, one hand stroking over your flank then dipping lower to flatten his palm over your left asscheek. âI finished out those little files you were stressinâ over. No picture of Ghost for his, but like I said, thatâs standard.â
You had known that he had finished updating the files for you when you had seen Farahâs, but hearing it straight from his mouth is something else entirely. You purse your lips and lower your eyes, still embarrassed about your little freak out despite his apologies.Â
âThank you.â You mumble.Â
You try to hide your face in his chest again, but a large hand on your jaw stops you by tilting your head back and forcing you to look at him. A thumb strokes over your cheek, and then heâs leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth. You respond tiredly but eagerly, still hardly able to believe that your boss that youâve been mooning after for months is being so affectionate and intimate with you.
Price pulls back slightly so that your lips are just barely touching, breathing each otherâs air for a moment.
âAsk for help when you need it, sweetheart.â He murmurs, his lips dragging over yours. âThatâs what Iâm here for. We help each other with the workload, alright?â
âYeah,â You breathe, leaning in eagerly in the hopes of getting another kiss. âAlright.â
Price smiles, his cheeks going all full and round as his eyes crinkle, and you feel your heart throb so violently it feels as though it jumps right up into your throat. He leans in and kisses you again, soft and sweet as his beard rasps against your chin.
You want to stay like this forever, wrapped up so warm and cosy and safe in his arms. He makes you feel so safe, like youâre valued and appreciated, and you canât even feel bad about being lazy because he so clearly doesnât want to move either.
âLet me come home with you tonight,â He says suddenly, and you feel his bicep contract as he squeezes you closer. âYou have an apartment off base, donât you? Iâll⊠why donât I cook you dinner, hm? Want to show you how much I appreciate all the work you do.â
Thereâs a pause, then he adds cautiously, âIf Iâm not being presumptuous, that is.â
You canât stop the shy smile from overtaking your face. Heâs so sweet, and being on the receiving end of this kind of attention from him is more than you ever could have expected. Ridiculously, he seems a little nervous as well, and you come to the slow realisation that he had been vulnerable with you as well when it came to his interests when he had fucked you.
âI thought this was you appreciating the work I do.â You say coyly, glancing pointedly at all of your bare skin pressed up against his.
âMm. You do a lot of work, and Iâm very appreciative.â Price murmurs, squeezing teasingly at your ass.
You giggle despite yourself, relishing the light-hearted air between the two of you. At the sound of your laugh, Priceâs expression brightens further; itâs strange, seeing your usually stern, stressed captain being so sweet with you. Youâre so used to seeing him with that flinty determined look in his eyes, or barking orders, or with his eyes sagging with exhaustion after a long deployment only to return to a pile of mission reports. Seeing him like this, with those soft eyes and a fond smile, makes your heart feel as though itâs beating out of rhythm.
âI said Iâd look after you, sweetheart.â He murmurs, and this time his voice is missing that teasing undertone from before. He sounds so earnest now, almost painfully so. âYou just need to let me.â
Yeah, you think to yourself as you let yourself succumb to the drowsy haze thatâs been tugging at you, allowing your eyes to slide shut as you nuzzle into Priceâs bare chest. You think letting John Price look after you might just be the easiest thing youâve ever done.
18K notes
·
View notes
EXPERIENCE (m.)
könig x inexperienced!reader
tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn
cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting
note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!
;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man
9.5k
When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didnât know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby.Â
You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away.Â
He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work â which was seemingly all the time.Â
On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that.Â
He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be â probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military.Â
You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didnât even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about.Â
The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friendsâ behest to call yourself an Uber.Â
By the time you reach your apartment building, youâre still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do.Â
âItâs not going to come any faster,â an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.Â
âYou scared the shit out of me,â you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.
âYou should be more aware of your surroundings then,â he says, âEspecially when you are intoxicated.â
You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by.Â
You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasnât unusual to have them stare at you â didnât mean you liked it.Â
You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight.Â
âWhat floor?â he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.
â3,â you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, âYou live on 3 too?â
He shakes his head but doesnât say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesnât give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open.Â
He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you.Â
You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance.Â
âWhy are you following me?â you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, âYou said you donât live on this floor.â
âYoung recruits are tools,â he supplies simply, âI am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.â
That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.
âThank youâŠumâŠâ you clear your throat and look at him expectantly.Â
âKönig,â he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider.Â
âKönigâŠâ you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, âInteresting name. Where are you from?â
âAustria,â he replies almost mechanically, âI will be going now.â
You donât get to say another word before heâs stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart â when did that start up?Â
You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. Youâd had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole.Â
You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did.Â
So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. Youâd been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it.Â
ButâŠyou hadnât considered an older man. Like König.Â
At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So heâd been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didnât make him any different from men your age.Â
As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did.Â
The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartmentâs gym on the ground floor, and there he is â sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name.Â
You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large youâre sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot.Â
You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up.Â
As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them.Â
âQuiet,â you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, âYou are disturbing everyone.â
The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, âS-Sorry, Colonel,â one of them utters.
âColonel? Is that high ranking?â you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later.Â
Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches.Â
You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind.Â
You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on.Â
He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.
âYouâre doing it on purpose now!â you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it.Â
âI told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,â he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself.Â
âHow is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?â you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on.Â
âYears of training,â he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, âYou never gave me your name.â
He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesnât want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you.Â
But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.
âSee you around, König,â you say as you step off.Â
He doesnât respond.Â
Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him.Â
It's as youâre making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König.Â
The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you canât deny you donât quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men butâŠthat was men your own age. König wasâŠolder than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldnât hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days.Â
Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You donât see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that youâre grateful for.Â
Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. Heâs wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual â beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. Itâs just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say â anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.
âHavenât seen you around,â you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesnât supply much of a response beyond that, âWhere have you been?â you try again.
âDeployed,â he finally responds after several seconds of silence.Â
You canât find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but itâs sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadnât considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it.Â
The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out.Â
You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasnât such a good time after all.Â
âWhat?â he snaps, clearly impatient.
âOh umâŠâ you clear your throat and slow to a stop, âN-NevermindâŠâ
He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, heâs nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen.Â
A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. Heâs maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on.Â
Itâs silent for a few seconds before he says, âI am sorry for the other day.â
You look up at him with wide eyes, âUmâŠwhat do you mean?â
âI was not polite towards you,â he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, âI took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. SoâŠI am sorry.â
âOhâŠâ you clear your throat and give him a smile, âitâs alright, König. I shouldnât have bothered you with something silly.â
He frowns at you, âSomething silly?â
âItâs nothing,â you assure him, smiling kindly at him.Â
He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once heâs alone.
Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadnât been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didnât want to do the same thing so soon after.Â
But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.
âHeyâŠâ you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, âWould you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?â
You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.
âWhat?â he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze.Â
You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, âUmâŠw-well, I justâŠitâsâŠI would like toâŠâ
Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before â even with him filling most of the space as usual.Â
âYou want to go out with me?â he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he canât seem to stop from spilling from his lips, âI am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?â
You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade.Â
He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and youâre slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you.Â
Itâs for the best, he assures himself.Â
It only takes a few days before heâs vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there.Â
It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him youâre just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you â clearly a little drunk himself.Â
You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that youâre not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before itâs replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before youâre batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes.Â
König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you â anything to prolong his time with you. Heâs never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life.Â
But he doesnât move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before youâre vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts.Â
You couldnât believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldnât believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again â a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasnât your first go around â and it always ended the same way.
But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldnât you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt.Â
You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings.Â
Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake.Â
As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep â you knew this wasnât going to happen.
You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.
âHow about a little prep, hm?â you ask softly.
He pauses what heâs doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, âOhâŠyouâre one of thoseâŠâ
He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, âOne of what?â
âYou want me to eat you out, right?â he scoffs, rolling his eyes, âThat shitâs gross, câmon just let me stick it in, already.â
It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate.Â
You donât even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.
It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because youâre in need of food â your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet.Â
After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you donât dare acknowledge his presence.Â
He doesnât give you long to ignore him, however, before heâs talking to you.
âHow was your little date?â he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge.Â
âWhatâs it to you?â you hiss, still not daring to look at him.Â
He scoffs, âYou went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?â
That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.
âWhat is your problem?â you snap, âYou rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,â you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you canât seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, âJust like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!â
By the time youâre done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close â almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you.Â
But he doesnât.
Itâs creeping up on midnight when thereâs a knock on your apartment door. Youâre curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you werenât really invested in but couldnât be bothered to change.Â
The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it.Â
You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision.Â
König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.
But the residual hurt from the last few interactions youâve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff.Â
He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you.Â
âUmâŠâ He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, âI think that we should talkâŠâ
âShould we?â you quip back.
He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch.Â
âI want to apologize,â he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, âWhen you asked me outâŠI-I should not have spoken to you like that.â
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, âIf thatâs all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I donât really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. Youâre not interested, letâs just move on from it. Iâll get over it.â
He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you donât understand â German, your brain supplies, helpfully.
âYou are wrong,â he says, âI do not want you to get over it because I am interested.â
The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, âWhat do you mean? You said youââ
âI know what I said,â he mutters, âI amâŠtwice your ageâŠâ
âSo you mentioned beforeâŠâ you reply.
âI do not thinkâŠyou should be with someone old like me,â he continues softly, âYou should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I donât find you attractive; I think youâre sweet and lovely. But it's justâŠour age differenceâŠâ
âKönig,â you stop him from continuing, âIâm capable of making my own decisions.â
âI understand that butâŠâ he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.
âIâve tried dating men my own age, König,â you say, âIt always ends the same â I send them home blue balled.â
He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, âWhy do you do that?â
âI donât plan toâŠâ you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, âitâs just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!â
âSucks..?â The question is soft and drawn out.Â
âHe wants to fuck my throat and wonât even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,â you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, âIâve never even let one of them go all the way.â
âYouâre a virginâŠ?â he asks.
You shrug your shoulders, âI guess. I mean Iâve had shitty oral and stuff butâŠâ
âI seeâŠâ he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, âWell, I would like to take you out for a date after all.â
You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, âReally? You mean it?â
He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, âDoes this weekend work for you?â
You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think heâs going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss.Â
You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldnât keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to.Â
With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.
You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip.Â
âWe shouldnât, liebling,â he whispers softly.
âWhy not?â you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, âDonât you want to?â
âI-I doâŠâ he assures, âI justâŠwant to properly court youâŠâ
He couldnât get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, âWow, you are a lot older than me, huh?â
You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience â the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before.Â
The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, itâs not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who donât know what theyâre doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it.Â
He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder.Â
He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely.Â
âOh,â he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, âYou are just so sweet for me, arenât you, little one?â
You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms.Â
You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan.Â
Sure, youâve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.
He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.
âYouâre so wet,â he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasnât meant for you, but then he tacks on, âDo you hear it?âÂ
âY-Yeah,â you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, âN-Never been this wet before, KönigâŠâ
That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, âIs that so..?â You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesnât move again and you whine, âHas anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?â
âJ-Just me,â you answer breathlessly without a second thought.Â
He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, âI guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?â
He doesnât give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you.Â
âA-Another, please, König!â you beg shamelessly.
âShh,â he hushes, shaking his head, âLet me work you open on this and then you can have more.â
You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him.Â
After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like youâre in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle.Â
However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him â the sight has his lips quirking up.
âRide my fingers,â he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.
You can tell heâs not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time youâve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didnât really do much for you so you never tried again.Â
König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away.Â
His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. Youâre growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that youâre not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements.Â
âLike this, liebling,â he directs softly, âGrind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?â
You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips.Â
âYouâre so precious,â he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, âYouâre going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?â
You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure.Â
He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.
You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.
You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.
Youâre absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip.Â
âYouâre soâŠbig,â you whisper breathlessly.
âI know,â he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.
âCocky,â you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches.Â
âN-Not cocky,â he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, âJust aware of my size.â
You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements.Â
He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasnât often that he got to indulge in someone elseâs hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience.Â
He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, âJust like that, little one, thatâs how I like it.â
You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties.Â
âLet me see you, liebling,â he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.
You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.
âSo pretty,â he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.
He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.
Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.
You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air â a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs.Â
His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until youâre completely bared before him. Heâs still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.
âTell me, liebling,â he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, âHas anyone ever eaten you out?â
You clumsily nod your head.
âWas it good?â he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.
âGuys always think itâs gross or somethingâŠâ you whisper softly.
He hums softly, âThat is because youâve been messing with stupid little boys.â
âYou gonna eat me out, König?â you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.
âWould you like me to?â as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.
You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it.Â
âTell me,â he says.
You whine, âY-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!â
He chuckles softly but doesnât bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt.Â
âO-Oh god!â you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you canât seem to quiet.
König is in heaven. Itâs not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.
âTh-That feels so good, König!â you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, âYouâre so good, so good, oh god!â
Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a manâs tongue on you.Â
He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, âYou taste so sweet, liebling.â
âKönigâŠâ you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, âPlease, please donât stop.â
You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You donât care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure youâd never experienced before.
He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you.Â
âWe can focus on that another time, liebling,â he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, âYou are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?â
You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, âNothing to be ashamed of, lieblingâŠI love it, I do.â
âReally?â you quiver out the question and he nods his head.
âYes, little one,â he coos, âIâm glad that I can make it feel good for you.â
You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You donât think youâve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you â you really should have been going after older men all this time.
He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin â firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; youâd always noticed the tattoos on his arms but youâd never really been given the opportunity to look.Â
âYouâre so handsome,â you whisper.
He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, âThank you, little one.â
When heâs completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. Youâd never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool.Â
âNow, liebling,â he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. Itâs hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, âYou have to understand something.â
âWhat..?â you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock.Â
âI am not like those little boys you were running around with,â he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, âI donât stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what Iâm saying?â
You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesnât stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum.Â
âThat means,â he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, âI donât cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?â
The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing â he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldnât wait to experience it.
âI want it so bad, König,â you beg softly, âPlease?â
âVery good,â he praised, âYouâre so good for me.â
He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.
The stretch is beyond anything youâd ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause.Â
âItâs okay, little one,â he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, âJust relax for me, donât clench up or it will hurt more.â
âI-Itâs so big, König!â you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.
âI know,â he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, âBut you can take it.â
You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch.Â
âGood, liebling, very good,â he coos, âJust let me in, nice and slow. Doesnât it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.â
Heâs right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and youâre cumming.
âO-Oh König!â you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.
âOh, thatâs good,â he grins, âThatâs perfect, little one.â
As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you canât even tell theyâre blue anymore.Â
âThat looked like a good one,â he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, âNow youâre nice and ready for me.â
You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.
Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, âM-More, König! Please!â
He knows you want all of him, want to know what itâs like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows youâre not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.
âNot yet, liebling,â he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, âLetâs work you open a little bit more, yeah?â
âNo,â you whine, âPlease, I want it all, König.â
âAww, I know you do, little one,â he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, âBut I know whatâs good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?â
âOkayâŠâ you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch.Â
You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you.Â
Before you know it, youâre watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer.Â
Youâre speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter.Â
âThere we go, little one,â he coos sweetly, âIâm so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.â
Heâs so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.
Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldnât have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good.Â
Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didnât seem to even notice how wet you were.
But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.
The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them.Â
âAre you going to cum for me?â he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.
You nod your head, âY-Yes! Youâre gonna make me c-cum again, König!â
He chuckles under his breath, âI know I am, little one. Iâm going to make you squirt.â
ïżœïżœC-Canât,â you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.
âYes, you can,â he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, âI can make you squirt, trust me.â
The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you.Â
âW-Wait!â you wail.
âWait for what?â he asks, but doesnât slow even a bit in his movements.
âF-Feels weird!â you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist.Â
âI know,â he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, âItâs supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. Iâve got you.â
Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like youâve never felt before crash over your body. Itâs long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs.Â
âThere we go,â he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, âSee? I told you you could do it.â
âKönigâŠâ you slur, feeling as if youâve been fucked completely braindead.
It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock youâve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his.Â
He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.
âWhat is it, baby?â he coos, âDick so good itâs got you in love?â
You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But heâs not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.
You have no idea how long youâve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.
âIâm going to cum, liebling,â he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, âWhere do you want it?â
âInside!â you immediately cry, not missing a beat.
He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. Youâre so sure itâs going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.
âIs it safe?â he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.
You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize youâre that close.
âOh, fuck,â König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.
Youâre panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. Itâs the best orgasm heâs had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out.Â
It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. Heâs trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.
âMein GottâŠâ he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, âThat was incredible, liebling.â
You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, âIt was, wasnât it?â
He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, âLetâs get cleaned up, yeah?â
âSounds good,â you agree.
The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing youâve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap.Â
âCan we do that again sometime?â You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you â which you were shocked about, but didnât complain.
He raises a brow and chuckles, âYes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.â
You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, âCan weâŠstill go on that date..?â
Heâs quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, âOf course, liebling. I would love to.â
You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that youâve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.
property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.
40K notes
·
View notes