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thebeesatemyknees · 7 months

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141 AND HOW THEY ARE WITH SOMEONE WHO THEY DISCRETELY AND SECRETLY LOVE. LIKE MAYBE NOR A HIDDEN RELATIONSHIP, BUT MORE LIKE BEST FRIENDS AND THEY LOKE READER BUT READER DOESN'T KNOW. IDKK

141 secretly in love with their friend

Word count: 2k || No warnings || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns "you"

Simon Riley, who always chooses to sit next to you. It’s not even that he lets you sit next to him, no – he goes out of his way to sit next to you. When you’re hanging out in a pub, with him and a bunch of mutual friends (mostly the rest of 141), he lets you choose a seat while he goes to get your drinks. Once he’s back, he places your glass in front of you and tells you to budge up so he can sit next to you. Though, after a few times, it became a routine and you naturally began to make some space for him. Others also know to leave at least one seat beside you empty. If someone forgets, or isn’t privy to this unspoken rule – Simon slaps their shoulder and wordlessly points to a different chair. And so far, no one’s had the balls to tell him no.

He’s a master of dark humour and dad-jokes, and he tells them no matter what reaction he’ll get. He’s used to people rolling their eyes at his puns, but he doesn’t really care. However, with you? It's different. He closely observes your reactions, taking note of things that genuinely make you laugh and things that seem to make you uncomfortable. He catches himself yearning for your reaction, wanting to make you laugh. While in a pub with friends, he keeps telling jokes and adding sarcastic comments, but does it so quietly that only you can hear them. And when he manages to make you laugh, he has a hard time hiding the proud look on his face.

He gives you the “scary dog privilege” and goes out of his way to make it obvious that you’re under his protection. He’s not possessive nor aggressive towards others, but he can stand his ground and you’d have to be absolutely crazy to willingly get on his bad side. So whenever he’s home, he comes with you to all the places you frequent and makes sure all the regulars see that you’ve got a big, scary-looking man at home. They don’t have to know you’re just friends. Honestly, he’d like everyone to think that you’re together. That would keep all the wrong people, all the creeps away from you – that’s what he tells you after not correcting a stranger who commented on you being a cute couple. He then watches your reaction closely, wanting to figure out how you feel about the idea of being together. Whether he has a chance, or should he back off.

If you playfully flirt with him, he smugly reciprocates. As much as he likes puns, he doesn’t use pickup lines, but his witty, flirtatious comments are enough to make your face feel all hot. And he always tells them in the most deadpan manner possible, while looking at you with a half-lidded, almost lazy, look in his eyes. And he doesn’t look away, wanting to see your reaction. To see the smallest twitch of a smile in the corner of your lips. To see you roll your eyes at him or turn away with a blush creeping on your face. He wants to see if you meant it. If you’re willing to take it further.

John Price, who does a bunch of domestic things with you and for you. He makes your friendship feel as if you’ve been happily married for the past 20 years. He rarely goes back to his own flat, most of the time staying at yours. It started with him popping by for a cuppa or to fix something. Now, however, you go grocery shopping together, he has his own drawer in your wardrobe, you have movie nights that you don’t even have to invite him to. You don’t actually live together, he sometimes stays at his place to keep the sense of normalcy. But then you wake up and find him in your kitchen, sleepily drinking a cup of coffee after letting himself in with the spare key you gave him. Fresh bread lying on the counter next to him, as he scrolls through news on his phone. He greets you and stands up to start preparing breakfast for both of you.

He lets you borrow his clothes. Though, that’s a bit of an understatement. He wants you to wear his clothes. That’s why he started to “accidentally” leave his jumpers and shirts at your place. Once you officially let him have a drawer in your wardrobe, he brings all of his best, most comfortable jumpers, even going as far as spraying them with his cologne, in hopes that you'll find comfort in them while he's deployed. He also keeps an extra jacket in his car, though he only offers it to you if he’s not wearing one himself. He won’t admit it, not even in front of himself, but giving you the jacket he’s been wearing ignites a warm feeling inside his chest.

If you playfully flirt with him, he doesn’t flirt back, suddenly getting more serious instead. He might laugh quietly, but sometimes he looks downright annoyed with your teasing. At least that’s what you think. In reality he’s just worried, overthinking the situation while a sombre feeling sets in the pit of his stomach. He feels like he’s betraying you. Here you are, feeling comfortable and safe enough to joke with him like this, while the only thing he can think of is to make you his.

Kyle Garrick, who takes you out as often as possible. He organises lots of platonic (please end his misery) dates. If either of you wants to check out a new place or simply go to your regular spots, he immediately calls you. Cafes, arcades, shops, parks, galleries, bookshops. At some point, it might make you think that he doesn’t have that many friends, but no. He just chooses to spend time with you over anyone else. While eating out, you often get into arguments over who’s gonna pay the bill. He jokingly tells you that he needs someone to spend the “military money” on, but he really just wants to see you enjoy yourself properly without worrying about the expenses. To see you, being taken care of. And he’d be so damn happy to be the one to do that.

He’s also very attentive to your likes and dislikes. While walking through shopping centres, he takes note of things you seem to want but end up putting back on the shelf. That being said, he’s the best gift giver. And it’s not just expensive gifts. Honestly, he rarely gets you pricey things, worrying that it might overwhelm you. But he doesn’t stop himself from getting you knick knacks, your favourite snacks, or even simply picking some flowers for you when you go on hikes.

While deployed, he sends you short letters, sometimes adding some local sweets as well. He knows it would be much simpler to just text you or call you, which he does, but he believes that handwritten letters are more meaningful. The first time he tells you that, you roll your eyes at him. He then asks, pretending to be deeply offended, if he should stop sending them since you dislike them so much. No matter your response, he’d be sending them anyway. And if he ever finds out that you kept all of his letters tucked away safely in a box somewhere in your room, he will have a hard time hiding the tears welling up in his eyes.

If you playfully flirt with him, his brain short-circuits. The best he can do is huff a laugh quietly and reply with a simple “alright” as he looks away from you, trying to play it cool. He doesn’t flirt back, simply because he can’t. His face gets all hot, sweat suddenly coating his palms. Did you mean it? Are you teasing him? Did you finally find out about his feelings towards you? His heart is just as frantic as his thoughts. He shakes his head and tries to casually change the topic, which only makes him look more suspicious. You, oblivious to his internal torment, probably interpret his reaction as discomfort, which makes you step back and avoid flirting with him again. This, in turn, leads him to even more panic, worrying that he’s lost his chance, as he tries to bring your conversations back on the more flirtatious track.

[Sorry to my Scottish readers, you might feel a bit excluded here. Anyway, Johnny still takes you on a fun road trip!]

Johnny MacTavish, who takes you on spontaneous road trips. If you’re not from Scotland, he takes you there to show you his hometown and places he used to go to with his family when he was a kid. He picks you up and drives north but takes an indirect route, stopping at different locations that interest you. You get stuffed with snacks that he prepared for the road and lose both your voice and your hearing from how loudly both of you sing. Throughout the whole trip, he discreetly takes care of you, casually opening the car door for you, making stops so you can stretch your legs, making sure you’re not getting cold. And so, instead of getting to your destination in seven-ish hours, the trip itself takes you two days. You stop midway and find a decent room in a small inn, ending up sharing it together. He keeps his distance, but he has a hard time stopping his eyes from lingering, finding great pleasure in looking at you getting comfortable and ready for bed. His voice gets low and calm while you talk, letting the late hour lead your conversation towards more meaningful, intimate territory. Next day, once you get to his childhood home, he introduces you to his family, and at some point you catch his mum giving him a strange look. When you ask, he tells you he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. However, what you don’t notice is that he turns away while saying it, trying to hide his reddening face from you. You might be oblivious to his feelings, but his mother figured out that her son is head over heels for you the moment you walked into their house.

He tries to teach you some Scottish phrases. You don’t really use them, worried that it would sound strange next to your regular, very not-Scottish accent. But then one day it slips out of your mouth. Maybe you got annoyed with him, which wouldn’t be surprising considering how often he teases you. The moment the words leave your mouth, a wide grin spreads across his face. He cheers like a lunatic, picking you up and twirling around with you in his arms. [And let me make myself absolutely clear – even if you’re a bigger person – you’re in the air. All you can do is dangle your legs above the ground and hold onto him for your dear life. His muscles are for practical purposes, not just visual.]

If you playfully flirt with him, he shamelessly flirts back. With one simple comment, you unleash absolute chaos upon yourself. Hopefully you’ve got more pickup lines up your sleeve, cuz you’ll really need them. To this point, he was keeping himself in check, making sure not to overstep any boundaries. But once you flirt with him, it’s a green light, game on – he’s not stopping anytime soon. He’s a very open flirt too. He’ll use the most cheesy pickup lines on you, a wide smile permanently fixed on his face. Seeing him wiggle his eyebrows at you doesn’t even surprise you anymore. He’s also a rather physical person, so you’ll have to get used to him leaning in and playfully bumping your shoulders or knees together, or constantly resting his arm around the back of your chair.

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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months

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Father’s Friend! John Price Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Forbidden Romance, Age Gap, Implied Smut, Brief Descriptions of Smut, Cock Warming, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cum Inflation, Stomach Bulging, Teasing, Older Man/Younger Reader, Pet Names, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

He tells you to keep quiet when you’re being intimate; he silences you with a sibilant “Shhh,” when your moans get too loud, telling you to “Keep your voice down, Sweetheart. Wouldn’t want your dad to walk in on his precious little angel getting fucked by his best friend.”

He’s a tease, too. “Or, maybe that’s what you want. Want me to fill you up and send you out there with your belly pumped full of me. Show em all how much you like getting speared by an older man’s cock.”

And if he finds it you’re going on a date with someone who isn’t him — WHOO, that will NOT end well for you.

He’ll bend you over the nearest sirface and pound into you. Gently enough that you can still walk after the encounter, but hard enough to remind you who you belong to.

“Can he fuck you like this?” John pants, teeth gritted and eye twitching as he feels you clenching around him, speechless. Drooling onto the cover of your bed beneath you. His hand slides up your front. Presses into your stomach. He growls as he feels himself there, his tip throbbing inside you. “D’you think he can make you feel like this?”

And when your date arrives to pick you up, he watches you walk, a hand placed over your stomach to hide the bump formed there, your thighs together pressed together to try and stop John’s semen from leaking into your underwear. And John watches you, a thin, sly smile on his face as your gaze finds his. He waves you off, knowing you’ll back. For more. For him.

For the rest of the evening, all Price can think of is you trying to go about your business knowing that you harbour a secret in your stomach; namely his cum sloshing around inside you. He can just imagine the surprise on your date’s face if you decided to get intimate with him, only for him to tear your underwear off and find you already wet with another man’s cum oozing from your hole and rolling down your thighs in thick globs.

John’s life has been a series of high-action, adrenaline-filled moments. But none of those compare to when the two of you are hiding your forbidden relationship from everyone around you.

Price’s unwavering love of cock warming has almost led to the two of you being caught multiple times; namely when you’ve been sat on John’s lap, squirming as his dick lays nestled deep inside you, only for someone to come bursting through the door, making you jump, tighten around John. He has to try and stifle the guttural growl clawing up his throat you’re squeezing — milking — him in your moment of panic.

Luckily, John’s ridiculously large desk - the one you’d often remarked he only got to comfortably fuck you on - hides what lays beneath the surface of this particularly dark and colossal iceberg. It conceals the outline of John’s cock inside you, the material of your shirt seemingly too thin for the job.

John dismisses the person who rudely interrupted you. Sure, they gave the two of you a strange look upon seeing you sat in John’s lap, but as far as that person’s concerned, that’s all it is. Flirting at most.

John’s interest in you isn’t purely sexual, though. He cares for you. Truly and utterly. You remind him of the feeling of first love — the one he never got.

He takes you out to fancy restaurants, ones far enough out of town that nobody knows who either of you are, letting you act open with each other. Hand holding, forehead touches, fingers running up your thigh, quick kisses, slow kisses, kisses that stray into dark waters.

Speaking of a hand running up your thigh; John’s classic, default move whenever you’re at a crowded event together (especially in the presence of people you know). You and John always sit beside each other, which always leads to his hand slipping beneath the tablecloth and up your leg, stopping only when he reaches the warmest spot — the inside of your thigh.

And he does this all while maintaining conversations with other people while you’re left mute and wanting.

Of course, he always delivers.

He’ll pull your underwear to the side and start toying with you. Gently, at first, his pace slow as not to attract attention. Then, when your face starts to get red and your voice is but a string of whimpers, he leans in, closely, so you can smell his cologne that charges hundreds by the drop, feel his beard tickling the side of your face, and whispers: “Don’t get yourself all worked up, Love. We’re with guests, after all.”

John will never let you cum under these circumstances. He’ll take you to a nice and isolated room and have his way with you until you’re having to lean on him for the rest of the evening, his arm about your waist and his semen pooling in your underwear. Heavy. A mistaken gesture of friendship.

If anyone ever did get suspicious of your relationship, John would tell you immediately.

“I can’t risk losing you,” he’d say, stare solemn. “We’ll have to keep our distance — just for the time being.”

God forbid you start crying, otherwise he’s on his knees, taking your hand in his and pressing long, deep kisses to your knuckles, his breath nigh-frantic and hot against your skin.

“I promise, Darling, this is only temporary.”

It would have to be, because John can’t go two minutes without thinking of you, needing you.

He sees something that’s your favourite colour in a shop window ? There you are, in the forefront of his mind.

You still interact with each other, of course, but you can’t be as close to one another as you’re used to being. As you’d like to be.

John can only watch you as you fraternise with other guests, party-goers, your father’s lawn party a hit. And yet all he can think about is having you by his side, fingers interlocked and looking down at you with all the love he’s never been able to give to anyone else.

These avoidant periods usually always end with John coming to your door and knocking profusely, his visage that of a man who’s seen nothing but ghosts all his life. And he takes you in his arms, pressing kisses to every inch of your face, leaving the two of you gasping for breath by the end of it, his eyes filled with adoration he’s never known and will only ever know for you.

Usually, you can expect a mountain of gifts to be waiting for you after your suspicion avoidance era ends - a collage of everything John collected that reminded him of you in your absence.

Some of it he purchases solely for you to wear for him and him alone, to put on a show for him. Sure, it’ll get torn off shortly after, but John can’t deny that you look like a present wrapped up just for him to unravel, to ravage.

Clothes, jewellery, accessories, shoes; he watches you wear them out and about. Something about seeing you wearing things he’s bought for you sends him feral — the fact that you’re drenched in his wealth while nobody else knows what lies beneath the surface. Beneath the layers of satin and silk and silver are the remnants of the night before. Teethmarks, bruises, scratches; the etchings of hours of pure, uninterrupted love-making. Breathless confessions, promises of a life together where you don’t have to hide your love.

Every outfit, every coat, is the disguise for many a night more.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

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Smash. (dbf!Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, heeeeeefty age gap (reader is 21, Price is 47), teasing, daddy kink, rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mutual pining, this is filthy age gap Smut and you’ve been warned. (Sorry if I missed any.)

Summary: Captain Price is your dads best friend and you’ve been crushing on him since you were a little girl.

I know this isn’t a request but I’m procrastinating :)

“Oh come on sweet pea, you haven’t been home for a family barbecue in three years now!” Your dad begs you on the phone. You’ve been off at college for three whole years. You haven’t made too much time to come visit, but there’s a reason for that.

Your step mom.

She’s awful. Uses your dad for his money, cheats on him constantly. At this point, you think she’s just a cover for something. You sigh, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Fine. But you better keep your hound on a leash.” You groan. “Hey. Be nice Y/N.” He rolls his eyes on the other end of the phone. “She doesn’t show her teeth, I don’t bite.” You smile cheekily. He can’t see it, but he can hear it. “Oh lord. What I would do without you.” He laughs. “Live a happy, stress free life.” You giggle. He laughs on the other end. “I’ll see you on Saturday sweet pea. Don’t forget, we had a pool put in since you last came, don’t forget your bathing suit!” He smiles. “Alright dad, I’ll be there. Love you, bye.” You laugh as you hang up the phone.

“That girl, gonna be the death of me.” Your dad smiles as he hangs up the phone. He’s sitting at a table with his best friend of twenty plus years, Captain John Price. “Is that Y/N?” He smiles. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to get her to come home for the barbecue this weekend. Finally got her to agree.” He laughs. John nods his head, taking a drink of his beer. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.” He smiles. “You’ll see her this Saturday. She’s been nothing but a pain in my ass for these last few years. Since she was 17, I think.” He laughs. “How so? I don’t have any kids so I don’t really know how they work.” John laughs. “Oh boy. She’s just a young woman. Moody, bossy. The girl has been boy crazy since she was 15.” He laughs. Placing a hand over his face. “Absolutely hates her step mom. Every time they’re both in the same room together I just want to strangle them both.” He rolls his eyes, tipping his beer up. “Although these last couple years she’s been super wild. Going out drinking, getting herself into trouble. I’ve seen more than 2 boys on her stupid Instagram she doesn’t know that I know about.” He sighs. John nods. “You think you were maybe too strict with her?” He asks. “Probably. But you live and you learn I guess.” He laughs. John finishes lthe rest of his beer.

You turn the wheel toward the parking lot of your apartment complex. It’s only about 30 minutes away from where your dad is, but you’ve been busy with school. Your car comes to a halt as you climb out, gathering all of your items and heading upstairs to your room. You pick up your phone, dialing your best friends number. “Hey.” You smile. “Hey Y/N, what’s up?” She asks. “You know how I’ve told you about the family barbecue’s I’ve had in the past?” You say. “Oh. You mean the one day a year you spend ogling at your dads best friend that I’ve heard alllll about?” She chuckles, making you blush. “Yeah, my dad convinced me to go and they installed a pool last year. So.. we need to go bathing suit shopping.” You mumble. “Is this finally the year?” She smirks. “Hopefully. You should come with me, get a good look at him.” You smile. “Alright. I’m down. I’ll come get you in 20 for the mall.” You smile. “Okay.” After saying your goodbye’s, you hang up.

When she arrives, you gather up everything you need, walking down the old metal stairs to your apartment. Feeling them buckle underneath you slightly, yeah the apartment you lived in wasn’t too up to date. But it was nice.

Your dad was really strict, and this time you’d spent away at college had been the most fun you’ve ever had. He wasn’t monitoring your every move, couldn’t tell you what to do 24/7, and you could come and go anytime you wanted. No curfew. Maybe it had to do with your dad being a retired military man. But he was strict and sometimes he could get a little mean. Everyone knew it, and nobody was surprised when you left. You open the door to her car, sitting down and closing the door after you pull your leg in. You put your seatbelt on and start talking about anything random as she pulls out of your apartment complex to head toward the mall. The drive is pretty short, it passes by incredibly quick because of the small talk you’re making. She pulls into the parking lot and the both of you make your way inside to your favorite stores.

When you finish shopping, you make your way into the food court, choosing what you want to eat. Eventually, the both of you are just sitting down at a small table. Listening to everyone else talking around you.

“So what’s so special about this guy anyways Hm? How old is he?” You blush at her question. “Oh god. How old is he?!” She laughs. “47.” You mumble. “Jesus! He’s older than your dad!” She laughs. “Yeah I know. And.. I don’t know. Ever since I was old enough to understand what a crush was, it was always him.” You shrug. She smiles. “Even still?” She asks. “Yeah. I’ve had one boyfriend that lasted like 2 months. That’s it.” You smirk. Taking a bite of your food. She smiles. “Because you’ve been so in love with this guy? Shit. You were legal 3 years ago, why didn’t you try sooner?” She asks. “When I was 18 I got into a big fight with my dad and I haven’t been home since.” You laugh. She nods her head. “Gotcha.”

“Also not to mention he’s a Captain in the Military.” You laugh. Her eyes widen. “Damn. I don’t know him but I’m in love with him too.” She laughs. “You will be.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.

—

The day of the Barbecue approached fast, and your best friend canceled on you because she was sick. You were driving alone, nervous. Anxious to see John again. Your stomach was curled up, waves of nervousness shooting through you. You hadn’t gotten over these feelings that you’d had for him for a long time, you thought you would. But now? You were convinced they’d never go away. At this point you knew it was more than just a dumb crush, but admitting that meant defeat and you wouldn’t yet. You wouldn’t cave just yet. As a little girl you dreamt of him day and night. Never boys your age, not even in high school when you hit puberty and had a crush on everyone. Nobody stuck. Nobody but John. Your dads best friend who was completely out of your reach.

You pulled into the driveway and noticed cars already in the driveway, pulling up as close to the car in front of you as possible. You hop out, deep breath leaving your lips as you start for the backyard where you could hear everyone. You open the gate, the loud creak that it makes gives away your arrival and all eyes are on you. There’s nothing but silence for a minute until your dad hollers that you’re here. He rushes over and gives you a hug and a lot of the already tipsy women start commenting on how much you’ve grown up, how you’re a woman now and not just a kid. When you’re done being bombarded by everyone, you spot John sitting in a lawn chair, beer in his hand. “Come on sweetheart. I’ll show you what we got to drink.” Your dad smiles. You dig through the cooler and end up grabbing a beer. You’d need the liquid courage to get you through this entire day. You followed your dad over to where he’s sitting and smile at John. “Hey Kiddo.” John smiles. “Hey John. How are you?” You smile. “I’m good. You?”

“Good. Just going to school.” You blush. He’s so perfect. So fucking attractive. You just want to jump him right in front of everyone here. You talk a little more with him before your dad calls him away from you to talk about something else with the grill.

You get caught up in conversation with a few other women there, avoiding your step-mom like she’s the plague.

—

A sigh leaves your lips. You’re sitting at a table inside, drinking a beer. You’ve had a little too much to drink, feeling a little tipsy. Everyone is already passed out or gone home. Tonight did not go the way you wanted it to go. You wanted to talk to John more. Wanted so badly to get to know him more. You’ve pretty much given up on it. Sure he’s probably already gone home for the night. You hear the sliding glass door open and your step-mom walks in. “Y/N. Will you please go keep John company? Your dad is drunk and I need to take him to bed.” You nod your head. Those are the first words she’s spoken to you all day. You stand up, going out to the back yard. There’s an older woman, her husband, and John left. “Hey sweetheart.” She smiles. “Hey.” You smile. You sit on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water. John is in the pool and she’s laying on the concrete. “Howcome you’re here all alone sweets?” He asks. “Oh.. I don’t know. I invited a friend to come but she wasn’t feeling too good.” You explain. She nods. “You don’t gotta boyfriend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh god no.” You laugh. She looks at you. “Why’s that?”

“I’m surrounded by college guys, not exactly a fan.” You smile. John is listening, intrigued. “Your dad keeps talking about the boys on your secret Instagram.” She smiles. “Secret?” You smile. “I don’t have a secret Instagram.” You laugh. “Oh, he talks about it.” She smiles. You look confused. “Weird. The only guys I have on there are friends.” You laugh. “Just friends?” You nod your head. “Yeah. I need to take down those pictures down actually.” You laugh. “Why’s that?” She smiles. “They always pretend to be my friends and than they get weird. Catch feelings or something.” You laugh. “It’s cause you’re a real pretty girl. They probably just want a piece.” She smiles. “It’s always after they find out I’m a Virgin.” You mumble. John almost chokes on his bourbon that he has, eyes widening. His body is rigid. She laughs. “Wow. That’s actually kind’ve impressive.” She smiles.

After talking a little more, she drags her husband home. Leaving you and John alone. Something that makes your stomach flutter. “The advice she was giving you. Don’t take it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You look up at him. “She.. is a little..” he waves his finger by his ear. You giggle. He notices the way you react to him. “You’re a real pretty girl you know? Don’t rush into anything. Find a guy who will treat you right.” He nods. You nod your head. You pull your shirt off, sliding into the water. You give him a good view of your bathing suit. “Can I ask you for some advice?” You bite your bottom lip. He nods his head. “Yeah, Cmere.” He nods his head. You swim closer to him, leaning up against the wall where he’s sitting. “What’s up?” He asks. You sigh. “Do you think I’m immature?” You ask. He narrows his eyes. “No. I don’t think so at all. I think you’re actually pretty mature for your age.” He smiles. You nod your head. “Why?” He asks. “Well.. I like this guy but.. he’s quite a bit older than me.” You blush. “How much older?” He asks.

“I don’t know if I should say..” you blush. “No older than your dad I hope.” He chuckles. You look down, crimson creeping up your cheeks. His eyes widen and he coughs on his liquor. “Jesus- how much older?” He asks, wiping his face. “Few years..” you mumble. “Older than me?” He asks. “Around the same age I think.” You breathe. “Just… don’t tell my dad on me, please?” You bite your lip nervously. He laughs, looking down. “What the hell do you want with a guy my age anyways? Do I know him?” He asks. You blush, looking down. “Yeah. Pretty well actually. I’ve liked him for a while.” You breathe. He laughs. “Jesus Christ.” He breathes. He runs a hand over his facial hair, seeing the way that the water drips off of him has you clenching your thighs together. “You have any advice?” You say nervously. He looks down. “Don’t go for it.” He laughs. “Hm?” You say. “Men my age will only take advantage of you.” You’ve moved closer and closer to him. “Would you take advantage of me?” You swallow hard, looking up at him. The way you look up at him is far from innocent. “I-“ he freezes. “John?” You whisper. “Yeah?”

You swallow hard. “Would you?” You breathe. He looks down. You’ve crept even closer to him, and when you’re right in front of him, he’s losing his mind. You breathe. His eyes widen and he’s silent for a minute. He sets his glass down, reaching his hands out and grasping your hips. He pins you to the concrete wall of the pool, hand resting on your throat. “You’re a good girl. Such a good girl, you don’t need to be with a guy my age.” He breathes. You whimper, tilting your head back. The way that you react to him shows him more than he needs. He moves his hips closer to yours and you clutch his sides for dear life, whimpering out when he ruts his hips into yours. He spins you around, until you’re leant over the pool wall. Crying out when he tugs on your hair. “Who is it darlin?” He breathes. “Because the way you’re reacting to me…” he trails offs. You’re panting out, he’d thrown you for a curveball. Sending you straight into a daze. “Use your words love.” He growls. The feel of his hips pressing into you, his hands on you. “It’s you- since I was a kid-“ you pant. Your eyes are watering, wanting so badly for his hands to be on you. Just as his fingertips graze over your bathing suit between your legs, breath hitching in your throat, he pulls away. “Look at me.” He helps spin you around. “As bad as I want to… Your dad is my best friend.” He breathes. You nod your head, as bad as it hurts you, you understand. You’re still breathing hard, as he creates a few more inches of distance, reaching out to run his finger along your bottom lip, loving the way you react to him, parting your lips even more. Closing your eyes and tilting your head back just slightly. It’s a small gesture but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You swipe your tongue over his thumb. The taste of his skin is amazing, even when it’s mixed with chlorine.

He bites his lip, pulling his hand away. “Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. It’s quiet, you almost miss it. When he says it, your body lights on fire. Having him touch you, his hands on you. It’s almost too much for you to handle. When you finally pull yourself out of the trance like state he’d put you in, he’s moved a couple feet away from you. Which is perfect timing. Your step mom makes her way out of the back door, sending John a smile. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go.” You narrow your eyes at her. “What?” You ask. “It’s nearing nine, you need to head on home.” She crosses her arms. “Uh.. I think she’s been drinking.” John looks at you. “That’s not my problem, she’s not welcome to stay here. Our guest bedroom is my office now anyways.” You roll your eyes and John can see the attitude on your face as you look up at her. “Have a good night John.” She smiles at him. “Remember, the couch is always open.” John expects you to be a little more upset than you are. But you aren’t. You step out of the pool mumbling out a “fucking bitch.” Under your breath. John smiles at your aggression. “I can give you a ride home?” John asks. “I’m sure I’ll be fine John, besides, I think you’ve had more to drink than me.” You laugh, wrapping a towel around you. He smiles, climbing out of the pool. His body is soaked, drips of water sliding down his chest. You want to drool at the sight of him. sliding a t-shirt on. His cargo shorts were soaked but he didn’t care. “Honey, I’ve got twenty plus years of drinking on you.” He laughs. “Takes a lot to get me drunk.” You smile. John is about to offer again, the door opens. This time it’s your dad. “Hey. I didn’t know you guys were still here.” He smiles. “Yeah. I would’ve stayed longer but Y/N caught the wrath of your wife.” John raises his eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

“Told Y/N she wasn’t welcome to stay.”

Your dad looks down at his feet. Glancing back at the door. “She’s just.. in her own space. You know? You understand, right Y/N?” He says. Your lips part slightly. “Cmon Y/N. You can stay at my house.” John nods his head. You send your dad a death glare, following after John. “Oh and uh.. it’s not really my place, but letting your daughter who’s been drinking drive home on her own and choosing a woman over your own kid.. dick move.” John shakes his head at him, sliding his hand over your lower back and walking through the wooden gate with you.

He walks you out to a large truck in the driveway, it’s brand new, shiny black with leather seats. He opens the door for you, helping you up inside. He rests his hand on your thigh until you’re settled, closing the door once you’re inside. He makes his way around the front, opening up his side and climbing in. He starts it, backing up out of the driveway. The way his hands grip around the steering wheel, veins popping out on his hands. He’s sexy, it’s hard to ignore. You bite your lip, clenching your eyes shut. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the throbbing between them. John feels bad. He’s upset by the fact that your own dad treats you that way, and allows his wife to treat you like that. What bothers him the most? Is how unbothered you are by it. How you seem so used to it, you don’t even care anymore. “You don’t deserve that, you know?” He mumbles. He reaches his hand across the center console, resting his hand on your bare thigh. His hand is warm against your cold skin, and for once in your life, you could give that stupid bitch a hug for doing what she did. She got you alone with John Price. The guy you’ve been crushing on since you were a kid. “I know, but it’s normal to me. You see why I haven’t showed up for any gatherings?” You smile. He nods his head. “Yeah, definitely. I had a lot of respect for your dad until tonight, can’t believe that.” He rolls his eyes. “Like your little attitude you threw, bet you’ve got more fire in you than that.” A giggle leaves your lips, and he smiles at it. “Oh yeah. She’s brought out the absolute worst in me.” You smile. He gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, not missing the way that you slide down into the seat unintentionally. Your body was begging for his touch, wanting his his hand to creep up just a little bit higher.

John pulls into his driveway, quickly climbing out and making his way around the truck to your side. “Sorry, haven’t got the running boards for it yet. They’re on back order.” He explains. “That’s okay, I can jump.” You giggle. John helps you down from the seat, fingertips lingering a little longer than they should on your hips. John feels his phone vibrate in his hand, ignoring it as he leads you up to the front door. When you step inside, you smile. He’s got a very nice house. “Wow. It’s really pretty in here.” You smile. “Pretty?” He laughs. “Yeah, pretty. I like it.” He passes you a hoodie he’d been wearing earlier that morning. Assuming you had no other clothes to sleep in. You thank him, and he shows you to the bathroom so that you can change. He changes too, finishing before you. He sits down on his couch, finally taking a moment to look at his phone. It’s a message from your dad.

I don’t appreciate what you said about what happened today. Involving yourself in our business. What happens between my family is to stay within my family.

John thinks for a while about a reply. But eventually decides to just leave it alone and ignore him. He’s pissed off. You don’t deserve it. This was an entire new side of your dad that he’d never seen before. A side John didn’t like at all, it really made him want to re-evaluate his entire friendship. He no longer had the same respect for the man he did originally. The best thing about him was his daughter. You. John thinks for a minute. Running his fingers over his facial hair. You come back from the bathroom, wearing only his sweatshirt. As you pass by him, he stops you, grasping onto your knee and pulling you in front of him. “John…” you mumble. “What are you doing?” You mumble. “Just.. admiring you sweetheart.” He looks up at you, pulling you into him. Looking at you. You look down at him, biting your lip nervously. He grasps your thighs, tugging you further. You straddle his hips and his fingers slide up your bare thighs. Sliding slightly under the sweatshirt. He expects to feel panties, or your bathing suit, but his eyes widen when he feels nothing. He brings his hand between your legs. “I thought..” you pant, clutching onto his shoulder. “I thought you said you-“ he cuts you off when his fingertips touch your opening for the first time, the first time you’d ever been touched by a man. A gasp leaves your lips and you’re soaking wet. Coating his fingers when he’s barely even touched you. You like him more than he thought. “Yeah, maybe what your dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He smirks. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart.” He rubs gentle circles over your clit, making you moan out, rocking your hips into his touch.

“John?” You mewl. He looks at you, a smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Will you have sex with me?” You whimper. He swallows hard. “But you’re a virgin sweet girl.” You nod your head. “I know- but I’ve saved it for you.” You breathe out. “I only want you John. I want you to take it.” You rock your hips into his hand more, body shaking at the intensity of him touching you. Your skin is hot against him. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. He bites his lip. He wraps his hands around your waist, lifting you up. He walks down the hallway to his bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot and laying you down on his bed. “I don’t have condoms or anything.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You breathe. “I want to feel all of you.” You breathe. Your desperation is turning him on. Nobody has ever shown him anything like this. John hasn’t been with a woman since he was in his mid twenties, and he gave up on relationships and women. Trashed the idea completely. But you.. you came into the picture. Pretty black bathing suit. Smooth skin, innocent eyes that helped conceal such a dirty little secret. So young and pretty, and you wanted him. You were desperate for him. Begging him to take your virginity even. John’s breathing is a little sporadic, he’s nervous too. It’s been so long. He doesn’t even really remember sex. You make him feel young again, and he’s a little worried he might ruin this.

He keeps touching you. Kissing and biting at your skin, running his fingers over your opening and eventually sliding them into your slick hole. Sliding them in and out of you, scissoring them until you’re squirming, begging him for more. The way you say his name. Caught somewhere between a moan and a mewl, it kicks his body into overdrive. His cock is rock hard, throbbing against his leg. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Nothing ever really got to John anymore. Not until now. “Do you think you’re ready for me, princess?” He smiles down at you. You’re completely naked now, tits on full display for him to tease. He’s been toying with them for a while, sucking and swirling his tongue around them. You’re soaked, body begging for him. You nod your head eagerly. He pumps his cock, using your wetness to help lubricate himself. He lines himself up with your entrance and you keep your legs spread for him. He watches you for any discomfort or any signs that you’re going to stop him, but you don’t. You hold your legs open, biting your lip. Excited that he’s going to take your virginity. Your pussy is wet enough, he doesn’t have to stretch you too much. You feel slight pinching as he inches deeper and deeper into you, but a moan leaves your lips when he bottoms out. Your hands jumping to clutch at his bed sheets. “Are you okay?” You nod your head. “Yes- yes!” You whimper. “I feel so full.” You whimper. Your eyes are watering slightly and it hurts more than you want to admit, he can tell. But you’re so excited to be having sex with him, those fantasies you’ve been having for so many years finally coming true, and they’re so much better than you ever thought they’d be. He rocks his hips back and fourth, hearing you cry out as he does. He smirks. Hoping you don’t notice how much he’s enjoying seeing you such a mess.

You’re crying after a few thrusts, tears streaming down your face at the overstimulation you feel. It only took you a few minutes to cum for the first time, his thumb moving back and fourth against your clit until you started crying, and he finally let go. Him giving your body what you had so desperately wanted, for so long. Your body gave into him right away, tightening around him and soaking his cock. He bites his lip, thrusting into you still. “So pretty..” he smirks. “That’s it.. cry for me sweet girl.” He bites his lip, thrusting a bit harder than he had before. Another sob leaves your lips, your body shaking. “I’m gonna cum again!” You cry. He leans down into you. “Look at me sweetheart.” He breathes. You look up at him. “Watch me when you cum.” You lazily nod your head, eyes watery. Your tears are shiny in the moonlight dipping through the curtains and his lower stomach is clenching up tight. Knot wound up in his stomach. A cry leaves your lips, your fingers gripping onto the sheets tightly as you cum again, this time, he groans out. Hips stuttering to a stop as he finishes inside of you. The feeling of you clenching down around him is too much. And he rests his head on your chest. You run your hands through his hair, something you had dreamt about doing for so long. He’s panting, coming down from his high. “Fuck.. did so good for me sweetheart.” He breathes. He collapses on top of you with a groan. Once he relaxes, he slides out of you with a gasp. He lays next to you, holding onto your hand. You’re panting hard. He stares up at the ceiling, in shock. He just took your virginity, his best friends daughter.

He took it, your virginity.

He blushes hard as he stares up, still in shock. No woman has shown John any attention in years, how lucky is he that a woman as pretty as you likes him? Let him touch you even. He sits up, getting up to clean himself up. He takes a deep breath, drinking the sight of you in. You look so pretty in his bed. When he finishes cleaning up, he cleans you up the best he can. He slides his hoodie onto you, trying not to wake you up. He lays down, pulling a blanket over the both of you, pulling you into him. Your hair smells amazing and he breathes out, feeling an ache in his chest. Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he wonders. What happens if he falls in love with you?

The next morning, you wake up to his side of the bed being empty. You sit up, groaning as the muscles in your legs and lower stomach burn. He really did a number on you last night. You rub your eyes tiredly, taking a deep breath. Your cheeks are burning, the thoughts from last night running through your head. You’re going to have to face him again, see him. The man who took your virginity. The man who you’ve had feelings for forever, that you could no longer hide. Just as you’re about to stand up, John walks in. He’s holding a glass of water. “Here.” He smiles, passing it to you. He holds his other hand out, he’s holding something. You open your hand and he places medicine in it. “I know you’re probably sore, baby.” He runs his hand up your thigh. You take the medicine, drinking some of the water. When you’re finished, he takes it from your hand and sets it down. “There’s coffee in the kitchen too. I made it.” You smile. You go to stand up, but your knees buckle underneath you. He catches you before you topple to the ground, a gasp leaving your lips. You can feel his warmth from the night before spilling out of you.

“What? Are you okay?” He asks. “I.. yeah. Just..” you look down. He swallows hard when he sees it. “I tried to clean you up the best I could…” he mumbles. “Fuck that’s so hot baby.. I need to walk away.” He laughs. You look up at him, seeing he’s turned his head. “You don’t have to..” you mumble. He looks at you, eyebrows raised. “You.. want me to fuck you again?” He blushes, trying to hide it. You cover your face with the sleeve of his hoodie, blushing. He smiles, reaching forward and pulling it away from you face. “All you had to do was ask baby.” He smiles, reaching for the buckle on his belt. He’s already dressed. You’re blushing hard, avoiding eye contact. He chuckles at you. “Blush for me princess, makes you so cute.” He leans down, his nose nudging against yours. He grasps your thighs and slides you to the edge of the bed, pushing his jeans down his legs enough to where he can get closer to you. When he slides in, you gasp. It feels much more intense than the night before. He tilts his head back, swallowing hard. His adams apple bobs and you blush even harder, moaning as he rocks his hips into yours. You’re still covering your face with the sleeve and he grasps both of your hands, leaning over you to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me..” he moans. “You’re so fucking pretty baby, such a pretty girl.” He gasps. Hips rocking into yours. He’s trying not to be too rough, he knows you’re sore. Your hair sprawled out on his bed, it’s something he wants to see forever. He knows you’re young and as selfish as it’d be of him. He needs to make you his. No matter what it takes.

—

The cup of coffee in your hand is heavenly, he was a master at making coffee. The seat in his truck is warming up, and you’re comfortable as he drives to your dads house. When he pulls up, you look confused. “Where is my car?” You ask. John shrugs. “Don’t know. That’s weird.” Your growl. Opening the door to his truck. “That fucking bitch.” You mumble. John grasps hold of the column shifter, throws his truck in park and gets out, following after you to the front door. He holds back a smirk when he sees you walking with a slight limp, legs still shaky. So bold yet so weak for him. You knock on the door and tilt one of your hips out, resting your hand on it. He likes it. Angry mom behavior.

Your dad and Step-mom answer the door, giving you a surprised look. “Hey Y/N.” Your dad smiles. “Where is my car?” You ask. He looks at your step-mom. “I thought you said she came and got it earlier?” He asks. She pouts. “I’m sorry, it was in my way so I had it towed.” He laughs. “Oh that’s okay sweetheart. I’m sure she’ll understand.” You’re fuming and John can see it. “No, it’s not fucking okay. Are you kidding me?” You’re seething. “Watch your mouth young lady.” Your dad warns. “Or else what? Huh? What the fuck do you have in mind exactly? Kick me out? Say I’m not welcome? Pick your stupid whore of a wife over me? Oh wait.” You roll your eyes. “You’re paying for these goddamn fees.” You point a finger at her. “Hey, Y/N. It’s okay. I can give you a ride home for now.” John reaches out to grasp your arm. “John..” you groan. “It’s not your responsibility.” You mumble. “It’s my fault for trusting my car over night with a lying, cheating, skank, whore roaming around.” You growl, taking a step toward her. John steps forward, pulling you back. “Come on, I’ll take you home Y/N.” John tries to tug you away but you don’t budge. “She’s a big girl John. Let her fight her own battles.” Your dad looks at him. John crosses his arms, looking unimpressed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t let her fight this one. She looks like she’s about to tear your wife’s face off.” John looks at him. “This is none of your business.”

“Y/N is my business now.”

Your dad looks at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. John can see the little devil in your eyes. “You let your daughter go home with a man twice her age, what do you think that means, hm?” You smirk. His eyes move back and fourth between you and John. He shakes his head. “John wouldn’t do that. He respects me too much.”

“No, I don’t respect you at all after last night and today. You treat your own daughter like shit.”

Your dad looks at him. “Yeah but that doesn’t mean that you’d..” the smirk on your lips. The hint of mischief in John’s eyes. “You slept with my daughter?” Your dad is fuming. John swipes his hand off on his jeans. “Yeah. I fucked her. Took her virginity actually. Made her cum all over my cock. And you know what my favorite thing is actually?” He pauses. “When I fuck her again, tonight. I’m gonna make her call me daddy too.” Your dad is still fuming. “You mother-“ your step mom stops him. “It’s okay, just forget about her.” She mumbles. “Cmon John.” You grasp his arm, finally pulling him away. You both get into his truck.

John drives for a minute, pulling off of the road onto a back road, where nobody can see anything. You’re silent for the whole ride, and after he parks, you finally take a deep breath. “Holy fuck I can’t believe that.” You say, eyes wide. “Yeah I know.. I took it too far I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighs. “Are you serious?” You look at him. A laugh leaving your lips. “We finally put them in their place.” You laugh. “What you said? Was so fucking hot.” You say, still in shock. John laughs. You look at him, moving over the center console to straddle his hips, smashing your lips to his. He grasps your hips. You rock your hips into his, desperate for his cock again. He shoves his foot into the metal pedal, his seat sliding all of the way back with a cranking noise. He’s kissing you back with just as much force as you’re kissing him with, his hand grasping on your shirt and squeezing you into him as tight as he can. You have your hands wrapped around his neck, and he pushes your shorts down your legs, the ones you had on the day before. He unzips his jeans, pulling his cock through the hole. You hover over him, sinking down onto him with a moan. His mouth muffles it. When you pull away, rocking your hips into him, he relaxes. Letting the pleasure take over. “Oh fuck yeah baby-“ he gasps. You’re bouncing your hips into him faster, leaning in to kiss him as hard as you did before. He’s moaning into your lips, thinking about how dirty this is. However he got himself in this situation, he’s happy. You make him feel young again, so fucking crazy. You pull away, resting your forehead against his. Panting hard as you keep a steady pace. You moan out. Tilting your head back. “Fuck-“ he reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your clit. “Say it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You ask. “Say it.” He pants. His hand connects with your bare ass in a harsh slap. “Say what I want you to say baby..” he smirks. You blush hard, “Daddy…” you pant. He bites his lip. Tilting his head into the seat behind him. “Fuuuck.. that’s so fucking hot princess.” He groans. You lean into him again. And he looks at you. “Fuck.. I love you.” He breathes. Chest heaving. His eyes widen after he says it, he doesn’t mean to. You kiss him again, steadily rocking your hips into him.

He’s right at his peak, and he knows you are too. “I love you too.” You say it when you pull away and the sparks that shoot through him, it’s too much. He’s right there, so close. He starts to lift his hips up into you, groaning out. “Oh fuck- Daddy!” You cry out. “Yes baby, I know you’re so close. Cum for me.” He breathes. “Cum on my dick again baby-“ he’s breathing so hard, it feels so good. He feels like he’s about to pass out. “Daddy- yes! So close. So so close.” He tears a cry from your throat as you reach your high, eyes shutting tightly and he moans out, jumping back as your pussy milks his cock of everything he has to give you. Flinching as you rock your hips into him once for good measure. You rest your head on his chest, and he runs a soothing hand over your back. The both of you still breathing so hard.

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Hey, look at me.” He mumbles. You lift your head, eyes drowsy. “Do you mean it?” He asks. “What?” You ask. “Do you love me?”

You blush, looking down. “John.. I’ve been in love with you. For years.” You mumble. “You’re sure it’s no crush?” He asks. “No, it’s no crush. I’m in love with you, John. Have been.” You mumble. He pushes your hair behind your ear. “I love you too. And I can take care of you baby. You can come live with me, I’ll make sure you have everything you need.” He breathes. You smile. “John, I can’t leach off of you like that. It’s no fair.” He rolls his eyes, lifting his hips to adjust himself, earning a gasp from you. “Leach? No. I want to take care of you baby. You’re a princess, you deserve nice things. You deserve to be treated with respect. Let me take care of you. Help you get through school.” He smiles. You blush, kissing him again. “I’ll help you get your car back, we can start moving your things this weekend. I want you. Forever. And I’ll never ever let anyone come between you and I. Not ever. I’ll never treat you the way everyone else does.” He holds your head against his. “Promise?” You raise your pinky up and he takes it with a smile. “I promise. Now Cmon.” You smile. “Okay, Daddy.” You smirk. He swats your ass playfully making you jump into him. “Ah!” You giggle, sliding off of him. He groans out as you do. You slide your shorts back on, climbing off of him and back into his passenger seat.

How you went from a shitty family barbecue to this? You’ll never understand.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #captain price #mw2 smut #john price #price x you #john price x reader #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #alejandro mw2 #johnny soap mactavish

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euovennia · 1 year

Note

headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)

anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3

pt. 2

fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:

let's get one thing straight

becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task

while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend

the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone

i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself

and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone

but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack

cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before

naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave

but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare

think 👁️👁️

he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him

it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"

to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)

but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."

he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"

he does not spit it out

from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him

the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him

these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking

he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it

and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own

and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is

so what does he do?

he tries to block you out

it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity

and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)

and the two of you become quite chummy

well

as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost

instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you

it's a surprise

a delightful one

but still a surprise

his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is

despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts

so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold

it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!

anyway

simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic

you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it

he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off

he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover

but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself

maybe having a friend isn't all that bad

and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue

until one day you don't show up

while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now

you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry

even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?

but you don't show up the next day

or the next

and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry

and a little sad and worried

but mostly angry

who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)

if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face

he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room

he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you

but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks

you got yourself sick

tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you

which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine

you nearly cry in your haze of sickness

you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much

ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship

it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days

but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday

which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks

but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"

and most times you say yes

but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)

but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free

gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man

when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary

imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling

i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway

it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it

like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in

and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand

cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."

then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot

it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you

especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission

you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment

seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?

and honestly?

you're not quite sure yourself

you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to

maybe one day you'll ask him yourself

maybe you won't

doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend

even if he doesn't refer to you as the same

he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same

regardless

you two are very much attached at the hip

what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person

he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem

soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him

gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door

price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out

it's sweet really, the friendship you have

it warms your heart thinking about it

and it warms his too

even if he won't admit it

he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to

because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend

and he's glad it's you

6K notes · View notes

inkbybambi · 7 months

Text

dbf!john price shotgunning his cigar with you —

words: 5.2k rating: e warnings: smoking (cigarette/cigar), age gap, shotgunning, pet names and praises (darling, good girl, pretty girl), handjob, blowjob/deepthroating, cunnilingus, fingering, price is a consent king, panty stealing. please let me know if i missed something! notes: oh my god, this is pure filth. as always, minors dni as this work and my blog are 18+. dbf!trope makes my brain go fuzzy. enjoy!

he finds you in the bathroom, blowing smoke out the open window, half-empty pack of cigarettes by your side on the counter you're perched on, lighter tucked inside.

you're frazzled as he opens the door — as is he, assuming no one would be in the bathroom.

it's a habit you picked up from too many nights out with friends. you don't like how it tastes, but it's comforting and familiar and so you seek it out when overwhelmed or nervous.

and you are.

captain john price, your dad's best friend since before you were born.

he came over unexpectedly — or, unexpectedly to you, your father seems to have been anticipating him.

he's dressed down in civilian clothes — you've mournfully never been able to see him when he's in his gear — but he looks like a god damn greek god. he's so fucking attractive, you're convinced it's ruining your life.

boys have asked you out, here and there. but none of them have that beautiful mustache or eyes that crinkle in the corner when they smile or the ability to look fucking delicious puffing on a cigar.

you want to devour him.

you need to.

"sorry, love," and you have to suppress the shiver that crawls down your spine at the pet name. "didn't realize anyone was in here."

he lingers in the doorway, before stepping in and closing the door behind him, going to wash his hands.

"i could've had my panties down," you say back.

jesus fucking christ, what's wrong with you?

he seems to be biting back a smile, turning off the water and drying his hands. his eyes catch yours, glittering in the light, darker than before.

"wouldn't that have been a sight," he muses, pulling a cigar from his coat.

you swallow and shift as you feel arousal leak out, panties growing wetter by the second. you bring the cigarette back to your lips with a shaky hand, barely inhaling before you're coughing out the smoke, tears pricking your eyes at the sting.

he tilts his head as he regards you. you're beginning to feel like prey.

"may i?" he asks, nodding his head towards where the lighter is tucked into the pack, as he slips the tip of the fat cigar between his lips and fuck, you want to see his mouth against your pussy, licking into you and smearing your cum all over his stupid, attractive mustache and —

"s-sure," you squeak, fumbling for the lighter and holding it out to him.

he looks downright predatory as he steps into your space, slotting himself between your slightly parted legs, forcing them open so he stands between them easier.

he's so fucking close.

"go on, then," he says, a bit muffled, rolling the cigar with his teeth to settle it in the middle of his mouth, dark eyes never leaving yours.

you put the mostly-smoked cigarette between your teeth and use both hands to flick the lighter.

it takes an embarrassing amount of times before you get a steady flame going. a large hand wraps around your wrist as he holds the lighter steady, bringing the tip of the cigar down to light it.

you watch, enchanted, the tip glowing red. he leans back, one of his hands falling to settle on your knee as he uses the other to hold the cigar, taking it out to blow the smoke to the side.

"it's a nasty habit," he says, cigar back in his mouth as he pulls the dying cigarette from your mouth, the butt tinged with your lipstick.

"you're one to talk," you say, slowly and carefully bringing your fingers up to slip through his belt loops, pulling him that much closer.

he moves willingly.

"you ever smoke a cigar?" his voice is deeper, rougher.

you look to him, doe-eyed and glassy, voice soft.

"no, never."

he makes a noise of thought low in his throat and it goes straight to your cunt. if he presses just a bit closer, your hips would be flush together.

his hand — warm and comforting — slides up the base of your throat to hold your jaw, fingers pressing into the hinge.

"open up, darling," he murmurs. your mind goes blank, white noise in your ears and static in your head. you immediately open your mouth, and he makes another noise in his throat. it sounds like approval.

"good girl," he says — purrs — and you know he feels the way you swallow at the pet name, the praise. he crowds in that much closer and you feel the outline of his cock, half-hard, in his pants. you inhale through your nose, fingers tightening in his belt loop.

he inhales the cigar deeply, the tip burning a bright red, orange, yellow, and he pulls away and keeps his mouth sealed. he holds the cigar to the side, as not to burn you with any falling embers, moving to slant his lips over yours. he blows the smoke into your mouth, tongue pressing against yours for only a moment before he's pulling away, closing your mouth.

he nods towards the window after he deems that you've held it for long enough, and you blow out a small trickle of smoke. heat licks at the base of your spine.

"how's it taste?"

fuck if you know, too busy remembering the feel of his lips against yours, the way you felt his cock harden as he licked into your mouth. but the taste lingering on your tongue is heady — earthy and spicy and like something you abso-fucking-lutely should not be doing.

"i don't know," you whisper, other hand going to his waist to cling to him, legs tightening around his hips. "better," you add on, eyes dark and needy as you press into him.

he feels the heat of your cunt through your panties, the way you're sopping into the cotton. you're wearing a dress, one that shows off the tantalizing line of your collarbones, the dip of your sternum to your breasts, a slit in the side that shows a flash of your thigh when you walk.

he wants to fucking destroy you. sink his teeth into every available inch of your soft, sweet flesh. he wants to make the mark so deep that it bruises for days, possibly scars. he wants to know what your skin tastes like, especially between your thighs. wants to hear the way you cry and whine and beg for him, and he would give in so easily.

a man of his caliber, steadfast in the chaos of war and operations, thinking on his feet and willing to do whatever it takes to come out on top — he's brought to his knees at the prospect of having you, pressing you into his bed every morning and leaving you pliant and satisfied. the pleasure lingering just long enough to tide you over throughout the day until he gets home and gets to fuck you again, bury himself in your wet heat and watch as his cum spills from your puffy pussy, all slick from his mouth and spend.

he hums in this throat, bringing the cigar back to his lips to do it again. you straighten up that much more, eager as your eyes flit to his mouth, mouth already open in anticipation. he'd laugh at your eagerness if he wasn't so hard.

he moves his hand to wrap around your throat, watching as your eyes darken from the pressure. his mouth is on yours once more. you paw and grip at his shirt, as he moves to cradle the nape of your neck. he tilts your head to the side to seal your mouths together.

all pretense is dropped.

the cigar falls forgotten into the basin of the sink, a growl in john's throat as his free hand goes to your waist, fingers pressing in enough to bruise. he licks deeper into your mouth, your brain going fuzzy from the slick heat of his tongue dragging against yours.

he bites and nips at your lips, soothing it over with his tongue, and you dare to do it back, eyes fluttering open as you capture his bottom lip with your teeth, biting ever-so-slightly.

his eyes are nearly black.

trailing his mouth down the curve of your jaw, he situates you enough to pull your dress up to bunch around your hips. a pathetic whine leaves your throat as he pushes you away enough to pull the straps of your dress down, exposing your breasts to his eager mouth.

"so fuckin' beautiful," he pants against your collar, your head tipping back to give him better access.

you reach for his belt, cock pressing hard against his zipper. an animalistic sound reverberates through him as the clink of his belt echoes through the bathroom, the only other sound buried among sharp, short breaths and groans.

"darling — " he starts, moving as if to draw your hands away. a noise of protest stops his movement, as he pulls back to look at you, trying to clear his mind enough to talk.

"you don't have to," he says, voice wrecked but so, so soft.

your fingers continue their path, belt unbuckled, deft movements opening the button and carefully pulling the zipper down over the prominent bulge.

"but i want to," you whisper back. you'd give him anything he wanted, if he asked.

he takes a good, long moment to study you, palms surprisingly soft as they cup your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. the sincerity shines through so clearly in your eyes, bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as your fingers dance around the waistband of his boxers.

you'll stop if he wants you to. you’ve never been with someone who’s cared so much about your comfort, but his eyes are warm and a smile pulls at his lips, and your heart thumps a little harder between your ribs.

you lean up enough to drag your mouth over his jaw, kissing the tip of his chin, his beard tickling your lips. "please?"

he swallows hard, exhales through his nose before his fingers thread through your hair and pulls you in for a heated kiss, more teeth and tongue than before.

"go on, darling," he mumbles against your cheek, and he feels the smile that stretches on your lips as you push his boxers down enough to free his cock. you look down with rapt attention as your fingers curl over his length, thick enough that you can't touch the tips of your fingers together. he's hot in your palm, and he's so fucking big. your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you.

"yeah?" he asks against your jaw, seeing your hand around him. his tip leaks pre-cum, and you drag your hand up to draw your thumb over the slit, watching as it spreads.

"yeah," you reply, dazed, unable to stop touching him.

he grips your hand to pull you off, chuckling at the pathetic noise you whine out, his name dripping in a tone that makes him ache. he doesn't say anything, and you lock eyes as he laves his tongue in a stripe over your palm, damp as he brings it back to wrap around him.

you pump your hand, adjusting your grip a few times until his breath hitches, burrowing into your neck and grazing his teeth along the column of your throat. you tilt your head to press your lips to the side of his head, gripping him more firmly and starting a rhythm of steady strokes.

"'ve thought about this," he confesses, gripping the counter beneath you. he's trying not to fuck up into your hand.

"did you get off to it?" you're breathy and dizzy, torn between focusing on how his dick feels in your hand — something you've been wanting for a while now — and the way his mustache and lips feel against your skin. it's awkward, and your rhythm falters here and there, but he isn't complaining.

"absolutely, i did," he answers, and it thrills you. pre-cum steadily drips from his slit and gets mixed in with your strokes. it's obscene, the sounds his cock makes as you get him off. he's breathing and groaning right against your ear. you think you could cum from the noises alone.

"christ," he grits out, teeth more insistent on your jaw. "doing so well for me, pretty girl. feels so fucking good."

the praise warms you, making you eager to please, eager to be good.

he drags his mouth from your jaw down to your throat, nipping and licking over the skin until he groans, and you feel his dick pulsing in your palm. he grips your wrist for you to stop. you do, but you tighten your hold on him as well, not willing to let go just yet.

"'m gonna cum, darling, fuck," he growls into your shoulder, trying to gain his composure. it's been so long since anyone touched him, and he's almost desensitized to the way he fucks his own fist. the fact that it's you with your hand wrapped around him, possessive and needy? he's surprised he's lasted this long.

"mouth?" you ask quietly and he has to blink to clear his vision, pulling back enough to see your eyes, nose brushing yours.

"hm?"

"can you cum in my mouth?" you offer again, and he damn near spurts all over you at the suggestion. "easier to clean up," you rationalize.

you're not wrong, but god damn.

price takes in a steadying breath, then pulls back to look at you, face cupped in his hands. your eyes sparkle, lip caught between your teeth and you blink up at him with glassy, wide eyes. he pulls you in close to kiss you, far softer than anything before. he takes his time licking into your mouth, savoring how you taste — the remnants of the cigar is faint, but it’s there. it isn’t frantic or urgent, and it makes your heart ache. your free hand rests on the side of his face as you kiss back, trying to convey something you don't quite wish to name.

he drags his lips from yours, smearing them across your cheek and down your jaw, to the sensitive skin behind your ear. he bites gently at the lobe, voice rough and accent thick.

"right. on your knees, then."

he steps away just enough for you to slip from the counter to the floor, eyes dark as he watches each moment pass, not wanting to miss a single thing.

as you settle on your knees, he tucks a few errant strands of your hair behind your ear, ensuring nothing obscures his view of you. he cups your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you brace your hands on his thighs, blinking your hazy eyes as you try to focus on his face instead of the way his cock hangs so close from where you pulled him from his boxers. you draw his thumb into your mouth with your tongue, and he presses down, a firm pressure. your lips close around the digit, gaze never wavering as your tongue swirls around it gently before sucking, his breath catching.

"c'mon darling," he says softly, drawing his thumb from your mouth and spreading the spit clinging to it across your lips. "don't make me wait too long."

you grip the base of his dick with one hand, taking a moment to lick around the head, gathering the pre-cum that drools from the tip. you dip your head down to lick a broad stripe from the base to the tip, drawing him into your mouth.

he groans low in his chest, one hand bracing on the counter while the other threads back through your hair, gripping on the side of a little too painful, but it feels so fucking good as you open your jaw further to accommodate his size, feeling each inch push into your mouth and to the back of your throat.

"mind your teeth, love," he notes, voice raspy and hoarse. you take a chance, grazing your teeth lightly on the sides of his cock, and his fingers tighten further.

"careful," he admonishes, the heat in his eyes licking down your spine. "be a good girl for me, yeah?"

fuck, you'll do anything he asks if he continues to call you that.

you pull off his length to lap at the head with small kitten licks, keeping your eyes on him, making sure he's watching when you take him back into the wet heat of your mouth, fingers digging into his thigh more firmly for balance.

you take him as far down your throat as you can manage before you choke, using your hand to pump what doesn't fit in your mouth. you move your mouth up and down his cock, working in time with your hand, each glide coating him in your spit, making it easier to take him.

he can't take his eyes away, pleasure numbing his system, entranced as he sees how good you take him, so eager to please. your mouth feels divine, the tip nudging the back of your throat, feeling the way you swallow around him.

"that's my girl," he praises as you take more and more of him each time, until you're able to remove your hand entirely and press your nose to the thatch of curls at his base.

"jesus christ, look at you, so fuckin' beautiful," he grits out as your throat pulses around him. you choke and sputter, pulling off him entirely, breathing heavily. your mouth is a mess, spit dripping down your chin, his cock soaking with it.

"don't hurt yourself," he breathes out, carding his fingers through your hair affectionately.

"i want you to..." but you're too embarrassed to say, never having been in this position before. never wanting to do it before.

price is patient, waiting for you to continue.

"want me to what, pretty girl?" he rumbles when you need more prompting. "don't be shy," he adds, content with cupping your face and taking in how you fit so nicely in the palm of his hand.

you shift uncomfortably, before your eyes linger on his cock, dripping with your spit and the last remnants of your lipstick. you feel empty without him in your mouth.

"fuck my throat," you voice, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

he looks proud — why had you been so shy in the first place? — thumb brushing over your cheek. he seems to be debating for a moment, before he squats down to your level, grip firm on your jaw as he draws you in for a filthy kiss before he's standing back up, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips.

"you tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop, yeah?" he asks, and the authority in his voice makes heat pool thick in your belly, aching to be filled. you nod, tongue sticking out to taste him.

before you're able to get your mouth back on him, however, he pulls you away. you whine low in your throat in protest, but his hold is firm.

"tell me."

"if i need to you to stop," you begin, leisurely stroking his cock — needing to always be touching him — "then i tap your thigh twice. sir," you add on as an afterthought but he snaps, pushing the head of his dick back in the welcoming heat of your mouth.

"gonna fuckin' ruin me, i swear," he growls, keeping a firm grip on your hair and waiting for you to drop your jaw, driving into your mouth when you do, slipping deeper with each thrust.

you grasp his thighs, never breaking eye contact. your eyes water the deeper he gets, but you'd rather cry your mascara off before tapping out.

his thrusts are rhythmic, measured — the sound of him fucking into your mouth bordering on pornographic. he pushes you down further, until you're choking, gagging, tears and saliva spilling down to your chin. your nails dig in hard, but you don't tap out.

"oh, fuck," comes his choked-off moan, hips snapping harder, rougher. pre-cum coats your tongue with each thrust, until he's burying himself fully down your throat, your nose pressed against the base of his cock.

it's wet and messy and you gurgle and cough around him, but you love it. his resolve is cracking.

"i can cum in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah?" he checks one last time, shuddering as you only moan in agreement.

he pulls back until the head is resting on your tongue. you open your mouth so he can see as he jerks the rest of his length quickly, a few more times before he spills against your tongue. thick streams of his spend coat your tongue. he thrusts weakly as he cums, riding out his orgasm, a frisson of pleasure sparking through him.

he pants as he withdraws his softened cock.

"show me," he commands, and you obediently open your mouth enough to show him the cum gathered on your tongue, preening at the noise of approval that rumbles deep in his chest.

"swallow."

you close your mouth to obey, licking the edges of your lips for good measure, before opening your mouth again so he sees.

"good girl," he rumbles out, swiping your bottom lip before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. "c'mere," he says, reaching for you to pull you up, crowding you against the counter.

you wince as your legs protest, aching with how long you were on your knees, but then you're being sat back on the counter, pulled into price's warmth as he kisses you again. you grip weakly at his shirt, letting in him relish the taste of himself clinging to your tongue, cradling the back of your neck.

"such a good girl," he says, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your dress to hook into your panties, dragging them down your legs and over your ankles, stashing them in his pocket.

you'd flush if you weren't so embarrassingly turned on, wondering and wanting to know what he plans on doing with them.

he pushes your dress up over your hips, spreading your legs to expose your glistening, sticky folds — desperate — and drops to his knees.

"look at you," he says, breath fanning on your thighs, teeth nipping lightly at the skin there. you whimper, one hand on the edge of the counter to keep you steady, the other moving to grab onto his hair, silky and gorgeous and feels so good between your fingers like every other part of him —

you try to focus on him, fucked-out before he's touched you, raising your hips to entice him closer, needing his mouth and tongue. he presses his lips to up closer, stifling a laugh, and you'd make some bratty remark if you weren't so worked up.

he looks at you as he laves his tongue over your slit, drawing up between your folds before circling your clit. your nails scratch at his scalp, head falling back as your mouth opens in a silent moan, panting out breaths.

john's warm hands grip at your thighs, keeping you still, licking leisurely between your folds and clit, a pleased hum low in his throat that you feel, sparks spreading through your veins.

"j-john," you whine out — soft, so you can't be heard — and his eyes snap to you, focused and determined. "please," you add, trying to draw him closer with the hand tangled in his hair, feeling like you're going to fall to pieces.

he presses a kiss to your hip, before he buries his mouth in your folds, and you keen. his grip on you tightens, his nails digging in hard enough to leave indents. you can't roll your hips like you want — need — entirely at his mercy as he licks through your folds, occasionally swirling around your clit, sucking on it lightly.

it feels so fucking good, biting your lip hard enough to taste blood to stop yourself from crying and moaning out. you settle for shuddering breaths, blearily blinking down at him, moving your hand to the nape of his neck, keeping him close, delirious with pleasure, never wanting it to end.

his tongue pushes into you and your grip on the counter falters, slipping and falling back, head knocking against the mirror. you whimper for an entirely different reason, pain blossoming where your head hit, and you're almost brought to tears when john pulls his mouth away, standing up and gathering you in his arms.

his lips are shiny with your slick, arousal coating his mustache, eyes blown black. he cradles the back of your head so gently, careful with his touch as he straightens you, tilting your head back to look you over.

you've never been one to pout but you are now, bottom lip out as you grip at his shirt. your palms are sweaty, but his shirt isn't slick like the counter. you feel like you could cry if he doesn't get back on his knees, finish what he started.

"y'okay?" he murmurs gently, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, down your temple, to your cheek, nosing your face to align with his, taking advantage of you pouting by nipping at your bottom lip before easing you into a gentle kiss.

you nod in reply, his free hand skimming up the length of your thigh, the fragments of arousal still swirling through your body.

"want you to fuck me," comes your shy request. you've no idea why you're shy — his dick was in your mouth minutes ago and he was eating you out like he'd be happy to die between your legs — and yet.

he presents you with his middle and ring finger, pressing them against the seam of your lips.

"suck."

you're hesitant, if only for a moment, but it's enough of a moment for john.

"be a good girl, now," in that fucking throaty drawl, and you're helpless, opening your mouth to let him do as he pleases with you. a satisfied smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as his fingers drag over your tongue, pushing to the back of your throat.

wrapping one hand around his wrist, you watch him through glassy doe-eyes, swirling your tongue around his thick digits as best you can, swallowing and drawing his fingers deeper.

"there we are, sweetheart," he praises, and he feels your unsteady breath, "not so hard, hm?"

you want to bite him, whine and whimper and cry until he fucks you with his tongue or even the fingers shoved down your throat or his cock that's sitting half-hard back in his jeans.

but you don't, because you're a good girl.

strings of spit connect his fingers to your lips as he withdraws them, and he marvels at his drenched fingers. he drops his hand between your legs, circling your clit, causing you to grip at his arm.

"when i fuck you — and i will fuck you — " he starts, voice wrecked and low and addicting, "it's going to be in my bed so i can hear all those pretty sounds you make and fuck you until you're ruined."

he captures your mouth in a filthy kiss as he pushes his fingers in your cunt, buried to the knuckle. you cry into his mouth, his tongue licking against yours, swallowing the sound. his fingers are so thick, stretching you better than any toy you have hidden away in your bedside drawer.

he lets go of your head to lean down onto the counter, crowding into your space further, anchoring him. you pull away from his mouth to wrap your arms tight around his back, fingers gripping at his shirt, burying your face in the crook of his neck. he drags his fingers in and out, making you feel every inch.

your teeth make home in his shoulder, finding it damn near impossible to stop the noises rising in your throat, little whines and moans, feeling like fire is curling in your belly, sparking hotter and hotter with each thrust.

he hooks his fingers up, easily finding the squishy part inside your cunt that makes you see stars.

"oh, you like that," he says. not a question, because you can hear the smug fucking smirk pulling at his lips.

he thrusts his fingers hard, alternating between hitting that spot and pistoning his fingers, dangling you over the edge of an orgasm. you'll never be able to use your own hand again — now that you've had your blood ripped open and devastating pleasure injected into you.

"such a pretty fucking cunt," he growls against your temple, moving his thumb to press against your clit. "so wet for me, so needy." he switches to hit that spot inside you with each thrust of his fingers, thumb circling around your clit.

"fuck, john," you pant against his neck, thighs trembling as he draws you closer to your orgasm.

you can't say much more than that, dragging your teeth along the exposed line of his neck, mewling as you damn near drown in the pleasure.

"want you to soak my fingers, baby, show me how much you need it."

it doesn't take more than a few more thrusts with his fingers deep inside before you're clawing at him, pressing your face to his chest. you try so hard to bite back your moans, but white-hot pleasure shoots through your entire body, vision going black and starry as you gush around his fingers, cumming harder than you ever have by yourself.

the pleasure comes down to simmer, grip loosening, coming back to your senses. he slowly withdraws his fingers from your cunt, your arousal dripping down to his wrist, under the band of his watch.

you watch as he licks the evidence of your orgasm off the back of his hand and between his fingers, before drawing them into his mouth to suck them clean. his eyes never leave yours.

he drags them out as slowly as he dragged them from your cunt, savoring every drop he could get.

you grab for the front of his shirt, boneless and sated, and he comes willingly as you bring him in for a kiss, happily tasting yourself on his tongue. he takes the time to kiss you, softer and softer until you inhale a breath and let it out, body no longer strung tight.

with a kiss to your cheek, he leaves you sitting on the counter as he rifles through the drawers and cabinets until he finds a washcloth, dampening it under the faucet.

carefully — and so, so gently — he cleans up the sticky mess between your thighs, almost reverent in his touch. he moves to clean his mouth next. he pulls you from the counter after, helping you steady yourself and dress you to look presentable, but keeps your panties tucked in his back pocket.

"you okay?" he checks and you think you're in love with him.

"perfect," you reply, throat a bit scratchy, nuzzling under the curve of his jaw.

opening the door, he guides you out first, palm warm on your lower back. he moves to go back out to your parents, while you're determined to crash into a post-orgasm nap.

he pushes your hair back behind your ear, leaning down low enough to murmur, ensuring no one else but you can hear him.

"one of these days, i want to know what my cum tastes like dripping out of your cunt."

he leaves you like that, his signature smirk painted on his lips, turning and walking down the hallway, while you stare at his broad form retreating, wondering how soon you can get him back between your legs.

#ink by bambi #john price #john price/reader #john price x reader #john price/you #john price x you #john price smut #john price fanfiction #john price imagine #john price cod #cod john price #dbf!john price #modern warfare smut #modern warfare imagine #smut fic #cod mw2

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deadsetobsessions · 20 days

Text

Some night, he flew above the twinkling lights of Blüdhaven’s buildings, wind rushing through his hair and the feeling of weightlessness pushing at the curve of his back.

There were a multitude of things that Dick Grayson appreciated, loved, Bruce for. One of those things would always be that his adopted dad allowed him to fly once more, even after his parents’ wings were cut.

In the air, he was home.

In the air, Dick Grayson felt like he was living up to, flying alongside, the Flying Graysons. Every flip, every trick he used to go faster, to fight better, felt like his parents were there guiding his every move.

Time healed his hurt, but still, the hole in his heart remained.

So when one of his best friends, a ghost vigilante by the name Phantom, asked him if he wanted to see his parents, he froze like a deer in bright white headlights.

“What…?”

Phantom did a flip in midair. “Wanna see your parents? They’ve been asking if they could talk to you.”

“My parents… are ghosts?” That was the least pressing question he had right now, but it was all his mouth could speak.

“Kind of. It’s complicated,” Phantom side-eyed him. “It would require going into the zone.”

And just like that, Dick understood. After the Amity Park came onto the map and the Justice League fixed the human and alien and meta rights violations that were happening right under their nose, Phantom had permanently closed all access to the Zone. Save, of course, for himself and a few magic users, who all refused to anger the King of the Dead.

“The only way you’re getting to my people now, is through me. Should anyone try to get into the zone, without my permission… I will make sure that you and your family’s afterlives will pay the appropriate price.”

No-one wanted to test his threat. The afterlife is something few fucked with and came back whole.

The Phantom they’d seen on the news then was incredibly different than the one in front of him now. Dick knows, understands now, that it was because Phantom trusted him. After years of being denied help, years of struggling all by himself to keep reality from collapsing while avoiding getting experimented on by humans understandably closed his heart.

“You’d take me into the Zone?” Dick didn’t know what he was feeling. Hope, fear, trust, touched, happiness, something.

A lot of things.

Danny shrugged. “Yeah. I trust you,” he said as he glanced back at Dick-at Nightwing. “Only you, though. No one else.”

The question that remained was whether Dick trusted Phantom too. And considering the fact that the ghost king ironically saved his ass from being killed a couple of times meant, “Yeah. I- I’d love to.”

Danny smiled, all pointed teeth and solemn trust. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Now?!” Dick stood up anyways, his heart in his throat. Danny held out a gloved hand.

“Yeah, now. Haven’t you heard that death waits for no one?” At Dick’s concerned look, Danny added, “Don’t worry. You won’t actually die. You’ll come back whole and alive, I promise.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go, then!”

——

Clark Kent threw himself out of the window, Superman suit already on.

Seonds later, he was hovering in front of Bruce’s shadowy form on top of a gargoyle.

“Clark,” Batman greeted in his gravelly voice, irritated. “What.”

“Batman, Nightwing’s heartbeat- it disappeared!”

Bruce’s heartbeat stuttered.

#dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #Clark Kent #Superman #Danny: I trust this guy #dick who has actual social skills: oh shit he trusts me #I just think dick would miss his parents #and that they’d stay ghosts bc they died and then their son went I’m gonna murder the guy #but then he went into vigilantism #if I had a kid who did that I’d be so stressed I’d haunt their asses myself

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babygirl-riley · 5 months

Note

Hii🌸 if u don't mind would u pls write for simon w fem reader who's having a difficult pregnancy??:'( if not that's ok, luv ur stuff btw🩷

In Sickness and Health

Simon’s heart breaks when watching going through your first pregnancy

A/N: Omg i watched my old co worked go through a hard pregnancy. It never looks easy no matter how it is going. I love this idea too ❤️

Warnings: sickness, pregnancy, hard pregnancy, underlining depression, arguments, marriage, soft!simon, husband!simon, dad!simon, fluff, little angst, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

When you found out you were pregnant, it was obvious. No period. Your cravings became intense. You threw up every fucking morning. Simon and you were excited that you were pregnant, people encouraging you that the morning sickness would pass. Instead. It came harder and longer. You cramped all the time, you bled once. Thinking you lost the baby when in fact you didn’t. Doctor reassured that it was normal in some women.

However, both of you didn’t expect the pregnancy to get harder than what people said it would have been. Your mom even said that what you are going through isn’t what she did. You are through your third trimester and nothing changed. Eventually your midwife came to put fluids in you since you couldn’t hold anything in. Throwing up was your new aesthetic. It got harder for you to work so you had to quit your job and stay home. Best friends with your toilet, you slept there day and night until your body grew bigger.

Simon was ordered from Price to stay home until the baby arrived and settled. Price heard from Simon about how the pregnancy has been not the best. You been up all night not being able to sleep from being too hot to throwing up to not being comfortable. Which caused Simon not to sleep, due to being worried about you. He would hold your hair up if you were too tired to even notice it was falling inside the toilet. Simon would wash your hair as you cried. Shushing you to keep you from having a panic attack.

You hated all of what was happening to you where you couldn’t enjoy being pregnant. Counting the days not to see your kid but to have her out. It was like you were hating the fact of everything no that was happening. Feeling like a curse then a miracle. Simon was the opposite even though he was heartbroken to see his love going through only hardship, the thought of having a mini both of you made him warm inside. Bringing it up once had you excited until you would hurl once more.

Simon would bend over backwards for anything you needed. Needed a bath Done. Needed a craving. Done and done again. Needed to be carried to the bed. Done. Needed a belly lift. Done. Anything was possible for Simon if it was for you. Nothing would stop him from helping you.

Was it perfect? Not always. Even when you both were tired and exhausted, you would fight, he would always be right by you. No matter what the fight was about, lately things that were ridiculous.

You both finished a fight and made up as he pet your damp hair, rubbing his other hand on your swollen belly. You were laying on his chest in bed, having your belly rest on the comfort of the mattress.

Sweat consumed you, your body working overboard on making your child and keeping you from not dying from everything else. It was silent before you sobbed. You were done, nothing for you. Your feet hurt. You felt like a whale. And your husband hated you. You’ve been only a bitch since you got pregnant and you were done.

You kept repeating in your head that he truly didn’t want to be here that you were just an excuse of a wife. That he never wanted to help you. That he wished you were gone. All because he didn’t get you your pebble ice. Simon had to leave the house for a while and what did he bring back? The stupid fucking ice. You called him a coward for leaving and not say anything about you said just for him to gift you?

Simon’s heart broke when your son burst out, your body shaking. Concern written on his face as he made your face turn to him. “Love what’s wrong?”

You cried harder as you laid your face in his shirt. “I want her out. And I feel terrible that I don’t want to do this anymore. That I have been a bitch. That I can’t stop throwing up. That this whole pregnancy hasn’t been what people have been saying.” He listened to you rubbing your back in soothing patterns. “I’ve been a terrible wife. I can’t believe I have been awful to you. You only been kind and generous and loving.”

Simon shook his head. “I could never do what you are doin’ dove,” He said quickly as he rubbed your shoulders. “This pregnancy is not been the best for ya.”

You sobbed harder as you clenched your hands into his shirt. Simon started to hush you quietly and soothingly. “You don’t deserve me.”

Simon froze from the comment, he used to say that to you at the beginning of your relationship. Telling you that he is a monster and that he would plague you with his darkness. That you were the angel and he was a demon, instead you showed him that he was the opposite. He was just lost in a broken world of his. Simon knew you were not like this. Not confident. Angry. Negative. No, you were the opposite of all of it.

Simon scooted so he would have you sit up against the frame. “Don’t you say that.” He said sternly.

You scoffed. “It’s true, I called you mean things. I said mean nasty things that are not true. Just over ice? Like how…”

“Stop,” He said stopping you dead in your tracks. “I know you didn’t mean it. Never have you showed me that. Baby,” He watched as your lips trembled, as your skin paled. “I know you love me, you are in pain just like I was. Let me help you bring yourself back as you make our child. You’re almost there love.”

You inhaled deeply as you looked away. “I’m sorry,” You turned to him and placed your hand on his cheek. “I love you Simon.”

Simon smiled and grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I love you too. This is through sickness and health yeah? We promised each other that. So that is what gonna happen.”

You laid back down on him, your heart swelled with joy. You didn’t know how you got such an amazing husband. But all you knew is that he was your soulmate and you were his.

Another month went by and the baby was in distress from your body. She would be a month and half early which could lead into problems. However since your was fighting off too many things it wanted the baby to come out. You laid in the hospital bed as they induced you to push your baby girl out. You cried as Simon held his hand on yours and a cloth against your forehead.

“You got this mama,” The gynecologist announced looking up at you. “She is almost there!”

You looked at Simon concern written on your face and his. “It’s al’ight mamas. ‘M right here.” He whispered soothing you by brushing your damp strands back.

With a couple last pushes you heard a wail. Immediately relief went through your body as you laid all the way down into the bed. You panted as nurses and the doctor tended to the baby. Simon watched back and forth between you and the baby. “Go-Go see her.” You whispered gulping air.

You watched as he gave you a concerned look then nodded. You watched as he looked over the shoulders and smiled. Your heart fluttering. One of the nurses came to look over you. She said something but you couldn’t hear her. You felt nauseous and weak, lightheadedness coming in full swing.

The nurse called out as you felt your eyes roll. After that it was dark, you felt like actual sleep took hold. When you woke up, you were in a different room in the hospital, mouth was dry. When you looked over you saw Simon asleep with your baby girl against his bare chest.

You smiled. “They have been so cute,” You turned your head to see the doctor walking in. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and coughed a bit. “Thirsty.”

“I bet. You had a blood clot form after giving birth to your baby girl. It can be common and could cause from your body being on overdrive to fix you. You are on blood thinners so take it easy. You have a healthy baby girl, she might be a little smaller than usual but that is expected from a early birth,” she explained looking over your vitals. “Your husband knows what to do. Just get to know your baby and rest.”

That you did, Simon once again by both you and both of your baby girl. Never have you felt so much relief and love. You smiled as Simon changed her diaper humming softly to her. In sickness and health. Is all you thought of as he gave you a kiss handing you your baby girl.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley imagine

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