#john price x reader

[shotmrmiller]

response to this but it got so long and ig im in my throuple era rn

@xoxunhinged i listened to one (1) song on repeat while writing this on the phone

okay yeah wait or just

it's ghost x price first.

Big burly men taking up too much space in the little coffee shop you work at or something and they're there like clockwork too. Every wednesday and friday, 8 am, usually the first clients of the day and all they order is a regular cup of joe. Plain. You offer alternative sweeteners, powdered creamer, but no dice.

Plain black. Like the occasional smudge of eyeliner(?) around the bigger one's eyes.

They're cute, in their own way. John is a blend of rugged charm and seasoned wisdom. The other, Simon, is mysterious. Guarded. Speaks only to his companion.

The pet names start to get to your head. Of course, you reason that John's just not from around here. His calling you sweetheart from across the room to grab your attention must be English.

But logic cannot stop the heat from licking up your cheeks when he does. or when Simon calls you something different altogether eventually.

"Mornin', pet."

It's even more gut-twisting when you catch glimpses of the occasional PDA: A large hand curling around an even bigger jean-clad thigh. Faces so close they could kiss (Waterboarding couldn't get the fact that you've rubbed your thighs together at the thought of them actually kissing out of you) and the fact that Simon's usually sharp gaze softens around the edges, pale gold whispering against the puckered pink of a barely visible scar beneath his face mask.

A couple. They're a couple. It's bittersweet, that feeling settling in your chest. Like dark chocolate coating your tongue. Honeyed nectar of love, the bitter bite of it not being your own.

Maybe it's time to go out with your friends to the bar.

Things take a nasty turn when Simon, out of the both of them, had come in alone and propositioned you on crisp, saturday morning.

Oh, the acid in your stomach felt like it was corroding the walls of your esophagus as it rose. You don't remember much of what you said but it'd been loud, vitriolic. You'd been so furious. Hurt that they had something so sweet, something they could call their own, and here comes this big dumb oaf looking for a piece of warm meat to stick his cock into on the side.

Your manager sent you home for the day.

And home you were headed, well more like the bus stop, stomping away and across the street but the hand that wraps around your arm to keep you in place is John's. (You'd been actually fighting to get away and he hadn't even tightened his grip enough to hurt. embarrassing.)

He clears things up. Tells you to forgive Simon, he's not the most verbose or eloquent with the words he does choose to speak. "He's good at receivin' orders instead of givin' 'em. isn't tha' righ'?"

The "yes, sir" that comes out of Simon is immediate. Obedient. Submissive. (gagging, i actually slammed the desk with my fist rn) A man who knows his place because it is etched in stone. Your teeth grind like rusted gears to keep from turning into a pool of liquid in broad daylight.

"What he meant," he roughly clarifies, "is that we would like you to share our bed." your face burns hot enough to sting. "If you want," John continues, limpid blue eyes fixed on your own.

He looks rather handsome in his uncertainty.

They don't even let you go home to wash and clean up when you nod. (Or shave. Simon had very audibly scoffed at your complaint about that. Said something crass about eating lollipops off the carpet)

The dynamic had been exactly what you'd expected it to be in the bedroom. When authority spoke, Simon listened. Intently. Without hesitation. When John ordered Simon— who'd sat with his broad chest curling around your spine, cocooning you in warmth and the faint scent of smoke, mahogany, and leather— to hook his hands behind your knees and pull your legs up to your shoulders, he'd done so in an instant.

The subtle burn of your hamstrings stretching pulled a hiss from your kiss-swollen lips.

"Bit o' pain with pleasure never hurt anyone, eh, sweetheart?" The deepened rumble of John's voice vibrated in your chest and made your toes curl.

Simon's steady breaths are drowned out by your shuddering ones when John puts his mouth on you, the prickle of his facial hair tickling your sensitive, heated skin.

The burning stretch of your muscles is nothing compared to the sweet sting of two fingers sinking into your hot sex. Pleasure wells in the corner of your eyes when he curls and scissors them while his slick tongue swirls your clit languidly.

He sends you over the edge with practiced ease, shaky limbs, and unsteady mewls. The kiss he plants on your still pulsing cunt is tender, as are your now unrestrained legs.

And he slants his lips-- still dripping slick, dewy beads collecting on his beard-- over Simon's whose mask is now long gone, his erection coming to sit heavy on the fatty mound of your pussy. You can feel the heat of his cock even through his clothes.

A saliva strand connecting them two snaps as he pulls away, glancing down to look at you, sweaty and unkempt, glassy eyes shamelessly staring back.

"I'd let Simon get his turn but," hands weave up your shirt and inside your sports bra while John's grab your legs and wrap them around his thick waist, "gotta prep ya first."

(?)

That comes back to mind after your limbs feel like cold syrup, warmth dribbling from your puffy lips and falling onto the damp bedsheets beneath your arse cheeks.

The question answers itself when Simon slots himself between your aching legs, uncut cock fat and hefty.

(dis)Respectfully, you feel thoroughly used and even now, that doesn't look like it's going to go in easy.

"Easy, love," John's voice comes from above you, "He won't hurt ya. Isn't tha' righ', Simon?"

Simon, who's dark eyes hadn't moved from where John's spend still steadily flowed, cut to him instantly. "Yes, sir."

He hums, a low, raspy sound. "How 'bout you tell our bird tha'?"

A rough hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressed on your fluttering pulse. "I won't hurt ya." His grip tightens, and the swoosh of blood roaring in your ears is deafening.

Much.

The world around you fades, senses attuned only to what's currently wrenching your swollen walls apart, going in, in, and in, it feels never-ending, it's so much, too much, until--

Your stomach clenches, it feels like it's folding in on itself, and a sharp feeling radiates below your navel.

Lips kiss your sweaty temple. "That's all there is. Did so well, eh, sweetheart? Took 'im real good, like you were meant for it."

His cock drags along your over-sensitive, raw nerves in a way that has fire licking up your spine as he pulls back. "Easy, Simon. You'll get your fun from me," John assures.

Your cunt clenches unbidden at that, vise-like around Simon who quietly groans.

The first roll of his hips pushes the air from your lungs, the second blanks your jumbled mind, the third has your nails sinking into whoever's forearms are beside your head, and the fourth has you confusing John's glittering eyes with stars.

And then he places your feet flat on his chest, his weight folding you in half, pinning you in place. Nowhere to run.

Your teeth clack when he thrusts firmly, tip of his cock sitting firmly against the plug of your womb.

"Easy does it, love. Jus' be good 'n take it," John mutters into your ear.

As if you had any choice.

After, when you're completely spent, they tell you to lay back, head propped up by a mountain of pillows, but to keep your legs open, let them see that pretty pussy, they want to see their cum spill out of you.

You thought the fucking Simon gave you had been rough. What John gives him from behind is attempted murder. He grabs at Simon's hair like it's the scruff of a bellicose dog. Pins him in place with his words, growled, thunderous, then his grip. Simon doesn't bare his crooked teeth once.

When your tired hand slithers down to between your legs, tips of your fingers smearing cum around your swollen flesh, arousal surprisingly panging deep in your core, the sheer force of John's thrusts rocks the bed with enough force to crack the wall and Simon whines like a dog in heat.

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141... "tell me you need me" and/or " I don't want you to stop"

Okay. Okay okay okay okay. When I first read this prompt, I genuinely thought I would write something really sweet and soft. But I also have free will. I am an independent individual. I make the choices here. Are they sweet? Yes. Are they soft? A bit. Is this mostly spice? Yes. Yes it is. I will not ask forgiveness.

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, non-descriptive sex, praise, fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Say it, love. I want to hear you say it.”

Everything in you is buzzing. It is loud, as if a hive of bees dwells beneath your skin. Each touch John gives you is electric. A zing of pleasure that rockets outward until the tips of your fingers and toes tingle.

“You don’t play fair,” you whine, sinking against him, surrendering to his touch.

“Never do,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.

You reach up to touch him, to hook your arm around the back of his neck. You need to anchor yourself before you fall over the edge. His fingers are expert things, moving in little circles between your legs. It is agony. And so very sweet.

John seizes your wrist. Brings your arm back to your side.

“No,” he says. “You can’t have that yet.”

“Why not?”

John’s lips brush against your throat. “Tell me you need me. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” He lightly bites. “Promise.”

You swallow hard. The words are forming, but they are only air. Slipping away with each stroke of his fingers.

John pauses. And that sets you off instantly.

“I need you, John,” you gasp.

“That’s my girl.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle’s fingers thread lightly through your hair. It’s a gentle touch. One that sends a shiver through you.

Your hands roam, touching everywhere. There is skin beneath your fingers. It is taut, slick with water from the shower. Kyle is warm too like a good blanket. You could wrap yourself up in him.

Kyle returns to your hair, working in the shampoo. You close your eyes and sink into the feeling. He has one arm around your waist as if you’ll run off.

“Don’t stop,” you moan. “That feels good.”

Kyle’s soft laugh comes from behind you, and then he guides you under the spray, washing away the shampoo.

“Need to get the rest of you,” he purrs, those strong hands of his grasping your waist, spinning you around to face him. “Where should I start first?”

He traces one finger along your jaw and down the side of your throat only to descend to collarbone and the curve of your breast. He goes lower. Lower still.

You grasp his wrist, arching into his touch.

“Here?” he asks with a smug smile.

You’re needy. And his hand between your legs is bliss.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you reply.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Oh. Fu—fuck, love. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Johnny groans loudly above you, his head tilted back in ecstasy. Behind you, the television is on but the sound is muted. It bathes the bedroom in a blueish glow. Johnny isn’t paying attention, and you’re not either.

You are settled between his legs, your mouth full of him.

This is a craving. A vice. Johnny is always the one giving. He loves to do it. Loves to shower you with affection and as much pleasure as you can handle. But you have the control now. You’re the one making him squirm. Making him writhe and whimper.

It’s lovely this feeling. The power is perfect.

No wonder Johnny loves doing this so much.

He groans again, the arm next to his side, fist clenched. His other hand rises, and tentatively brushes against your scalp. Johnny’s eyes are closed. You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s doing.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, almost absently, as if speaking to the air.

You continue. Tasting.

His hand against your scalp strengthens, fingers tangling in your hair. His grip is fierce.

“Don’t stop,” he repeats. “Don’t want you to stop.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“That’s not what you say. You know this, love.”

Simon grasps your chin between thumb and forefinger. He squeezes slightly, tipping upward. You are unable to look away. Unable to move. Those dark eyes with pale eyelashes drive a spear through your heart every time.

It’s maddening.

You lick your lips and Simon follows the movement. He examines your mouth, and then his thumb brushes against the underside of your bottom lip. It sends a little shiver through you. Simon is powerful. Strong. He could easily break you, and yet he can be so gentle.

“I’m not gonna ask again.” Simon draws you closer and leans forward as if to kiss you. He doesn’t though, simply holds there, awaiting an answer.

He won’t give you what you’re seeking just yet. Not until you say the magic words.

“Tell me you need me,” he murmurs.

That is all Simon wants. To be desired. To be needed. He loves to hear it from your lips, especially like now when the two of you are tangled in each other. Other times, it’s simple things like reaching something on the top shelf.

And you will tell him.

You always do.

“I need you, Simon.”

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[dmitriene]

john price fucking you in his gift, soft lace ripped around your soaked pussy, still hugging your bouncing ass that plops down on his hairy thighs with gentle slaps, your glossy folds spreading open around his fat cock, leaving strings of your sweet slick.

lacy bra rolled down, straps dangling below your shoulders to reveal your jiggling tits, nipples perky and drool soaked from where john suckled on them, teasing till they're all swollen and sensitive, making you whimper charmingly when he tugs at them with callouses of his fingers, fondling on your doughy breasts.

a pretty piece with thin flowers that looked as if they're bloomed on your supple skin, but not as pretty as you, bouncing on his fat cock while his gift get's all messy on you, these fabrics worthing nothing in comparison to your hazy eyes that roll back in your skull everytime john's thick tip scrapes your sweet spots.

making you dig at his hairy, burly chest, shaky fingers clinging roughly to the graying hair and almost making john hiss, as you remind him of clawing kitten, the blue spark of his eyes blackening as he watches at the wet mess on his untidy pubic hair, your slick pooling and making his cock all shiny and dripping, your silken walls pulsing.

his wide palms stroking delicately along your pliable curves, listening to the wet plaps your pussy is making when sucking his throbbing cock back again, tiny hole tightening with coiling heat in your tummy, trembling thighs all tacky with a soppy mess you created.

and john never seen anything more pretty than you, the shiny, sweaty skin and your tensing muscles, the messed underwear that still halfly adorn your body, making him feel like he's revealing some sparkly gem, as he sinks his fingers in the meat of your hips, leaving sunken imprints on your flesh.

grinds his cock against your spongy spot as he keeps you seated fully on his throbbing cock, hearing how your little moans grow in pitchy wanton whimpers, trying to claw at the juncture of john's shoulders, where he stretches his neck, brushing his lips against your wrist, as you arch when your cunt suddenly clamps harshly and gushes with rhythmic clenches.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[tojisun]

john finds love again there, in the palms of his mistress. she is a lot younger, all bright-eyed with untamable dreams. she speaks and the words fall like honey; like nectar, or ambrosia, and john pulls away always starved — his mouth bubbling with froth, his eyes razor-sharp to try to find where else can he place his mouth, needy for even just a drop.

he waxes in her presence. she laughs and giggles, tiny trills of beautiful chimes. john never gets tired of the way she sounds; of the way music pulls from her throat, spilling into the canvas they've made on the bed, and permanently etching the vibrato on his heart until john feels like he is twenty-one again, getting his first tattoo on a drunken whim.

she makes him feel young.

she makes him feel old. she dances to songs that john doesn't recognize. the tempo in them is a lot faster, the lyrics packed with metaphors he can't understand, but she pulls him into her space anyways, moulding the two of them together, and he finds that he didn't even need to worry — they have a rhythm pulsing within them and she coaxes it out with such strong familiarity, he forgets that there are years he's spent, a lonely voyage, before her soul was even formed.

he is complete with her, and the admission feels wrong like a confession made from within the flesh of a church. he knows there is penance to be made — his wife, greying with him, had long since pulled away — but he also knows that when he chooses, when he is asked to recite the lord's prayer, there is only one person john would think about. there is only one name that would itch the tip of his tongue, begging to be sounded out.

that night, he pulls her close, breathing her in. she smells like dew and ozone, and sweet chamomile.

"do you want to run away with me?" he asks, only half-joking because john may not be an honest man but he knows she deserves an honest love, so he will forge it from the shards of his broken home and sand down his edges so she can melt into him softly.

but she huffs, pressing her cold nose on the cut of his jaw — but she huffs, finding peace in his chaos — and says, "i thought you'll never ask."

the better half of his soul, there, meeting him in between.

[veritasangel]

Co-Pathetic

ft. Simon Riley, John Price / pt.1 Keep me close

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw content {mdni} (reader is price's wife)

↣ threesome, piv (unprotected), creampie, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, cum eating, oral (reader & john receiving/simon giving), simon is a desperate mess.

wc: 4.8k ↣ this is a pt.2 but it can be read alone. (still gotta proofread)

It had been a day or two since yours and Simon’s encounter, neither you, John or him had made any specific reference to it. A few jokes passed, but for the most part, everything continued as normal, which you were more than happy with.

You know Price was curious though, he can't help but want to know what his missus did with his best soldier.

You were enjoying the warm water, letting it cascade over you, your eyes peacefully closed when you felt a pair of hands drift up your waist and across your front, a familiar beard resting against the crook of your neck.

"G'morning love," he murmured, his voice low and gruff from just waking up. “You didn’t wake me.” 

"Wanted’ to let you sleep in- you deserve it." you say tenderly to him.

Price's hands tightened slightly around you, pulling you back against him. "Mhm, you're too good to me," he said, his voice softening. "But I missed you too much to sleep in." He nuzzled against your neck, his beard tickling your skin. "Let me help you wash, yeah?"

His hands reach for the body wash, squeezing some onto his hands as he starts to wash your body, his hands moving slowly and deliberately, as if he's trying to memorise every inch of you. He pays extra attention to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making them harden. He leans down and whispers in your ear, "I've missed these."

“Really? You were practically hugging them all night.”

Price chuckles, his chest vibrating against your back. "Well, I want to appreciate them more now that I’m awake." he says, his voice playful. He continues to wash you, his hands moving down to your stomach, then to your hips. He pauses, his hands resting there for a moment. "Did Simon take care of you for me?" he mumbles, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, “Where’d he touch you?”

You laugh softly, turning around to face him as you too took some shower gel and ran your hands across his broad chest, “It wasn’t like that, I took care of him, not the other way around....So you don’t need to leave any marks as I know you're thinking it.” you smirk up at him.

“He didn’t touch you?” John says, surprised, hands gently rubbing circles along your hip.

“Well he fucked me.”

“And that was it?” John says, bewildered by this revelation. “Well I also gave him a blowjob.” you add.

John’s jaw drops slightly, “I give him the greenlight with my precious wife and all he does is have you suck him off and then fucks you?” John tuts, shaking his head.

“Well we agreed it was to help him relax.”

John looks like he’s had the biggest shock of his life, “Okay and? He couldn’t have even gone down on you as a thank you?” he says as he washes the soapy bubbles from your smooth skin. “Ungrateful fucker.” he adds, “I’ll have to show him how to take care of you. Make sure he actually knows how to please a woman.”

You laugh a little, shaking his words off as the two of you clean one another, Price even offering to wash your hair because he knows how much you like it when his hands massage your scalp.

Gentle touches and sweet words filled the shower as the two of you took the time to enjoy the moment together, basking in the love you both feel for each other. He rinsed your hair, the comforting silence only being broken when he pipes up again, “Wait so how many times did he make you cum then? John asks, not able to help himself.

“Once-”

“Once? Oh absolutely not.” and before you can say anything he’s already out of the shower, grabbing a towel.

“Baby! You didn’t finish rinsing the conditioner- John!” the only response being the closing of the bathroom door behind him.

So much for offering to wash your hair

You can’t help but shake your head with a small laugh because he’s always so dramatic.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

You didn't find out where he went but as the evening rolled around, you quickly learnt the gist of it.

Especially as you were sprawled out on John’s lap, legs kept open by one of his hands as the other explored your folds, ring finger teasing your entrance, before pushing two fingers inside, curling expertly inside you. Simon’s eyes glued to how effortlessly his fingers slid inside.

Price leans in, whispering huskily against your ear, "You like this, don't you? Being watched by Simon while I pleasure you?" His thumb finds your clit, circling it slowly, making you gasp.

"But I don't think he should be allowed to touch." Price adds, mockingly, “He had his chance and he blew it, didn't he?”

But Simon's eyes are hungry as they rake over your body, taking in every curve and dip. He licks his lips, his gaze lingering on the spot where Price's fingers disappear inside you.

Price smirks, following his gaze. "He wants a taste, doesn't he?" He leans back slightly, looking between you and Simon. "What do you say, love? Should we let him?"

“Mhm.” you nod, but Price shakes his head with a grin, “See, I don’t think so, but....since you're both being so greedy." He pulls his fingers out, leaving you aching. "Simon, why don't you come here and clean these?"

Simon eagerly moves closer, his eyes locked onto Price's glistening fingers. He takes them into his mouth, sucking them clean, his eyes never leaving Price's. "Good lad," Price praises, a smirk playing on his lips. "How bad do you want it?"

"Bad enough to beg?" Price continues, raising an eyebrow. He looks at you, then back to Simon, "Go on, show us how much you want it."

Simon's gaze is fixed on you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Come on, Price. You know I can give her what she needs. Look at her, she's practically begging for it herself with how soaked she is."

Price laughs softly, trailing his fingertips along your thigh, but never where you want it. "Oh, she's definitely eager. But I'm enjoying watching her squirm too much." He leans in, nipping at your earlobe. "Maybe later, hmm?"

But Simon isn't backing down, his hand reaching out, brushing against your thigh. "Please, Price. I swear I’ll fucking worship her, just let me-"

Price catches Simon's wrist, squeezing it tightly. "Careful now. Don't make promises you can't keep." He leans in, voice low. "And remember your place here."

Simon leans back, a smug smile on his face. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Having us both at your mercy. Making me beg for a taste of what's yours. Because deep down, you want this just as much as I do. You want to see me worship her, to see her fall apart under my touch."

Price's fingers return to your core, stretching you out as he moves his digits, "Perhaps. But that doesn't change the fact that you need to earn it." He turns to you, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I think we should we make him work for it, don't you?"

“I don’t care who does what, just please somebody touch me-” you whine, Price’s fingers constantly pulling away anytime you started to enjoy his touch.

Price laughs, a deep, rumbling sound. "Patience. Good things come to those who wait."

He speaks lowly to Simon, "I don’t think you deserve to touch her yet but I don’t want to neglect my baby soo you can use this-” Price leans over to the bedside table and pulls out your vibrator.

"I don't need a stupid device to make her cum, I can do it myself." Simon scoffs

"Too bad." he says mockingly, "Guess you should've kept this attitude the other day." Price smirks at Simon's visible frustration, "Vibrator or nothing."

Simon sighs dramatically, reluctantly taking the vibrator from him. "Fine, fine. But later on, I get to use my mouth." He turns it on, the hum filling the room, and settles it against your clit, watching you intently.

"If you earn it."

You moan as Simon starts moving the vibrator, your hips bucking slightly. Price watches, his gaze intense. He leans in to kiss you, softly, lovingly.

Simon forced to watch with his cock hardening in his pants as he holds the vibrator right where you want it, absorbing every sound that escapes your lips.

Price deepens the kiss as his hands wander your curves, settling on your breasts, squeezing them every now and then, before giving a gentle tug to each nipple. "You look so fucking beautiful like this, love."

Simon's free hand also starts to get bold, lightly tracing patterns on your inner thigh. Price instantly breaking the kiss, an eyebrow raising at Simon. "Hands to yourself unless I say otherwise." He growls, before turning his attention back to you.

Simon retreats, laying on his front so he can get a closer look at your slick covered pussy, whilst using the vibrator. Your soft moans filling the room, music to both of their ears.

Price smirks, looking down at Simon. "Comfortable there, Si?" He trails his fingers down your stomach, making you shiver. "Don't get too used to it though."

"Well can you keep her fucking legs open then because I can't if I'm not allowed to touch." Simon grumbles, watching as your legs keep threatening to close from the sensations on your clit.

Price grabs your thighs, holding them open wide, exposing you completely to Simon. "Like this?" he asks, a dangerous edge to his voice. "Is this what you wanted, Simon?"

Simon nods, mumbling a thank you, his eyes locked onto your folds and your needy hole, looking so desperately like it wants to be filled. He increases the setting on the vibrator by one, making you moan louder, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

"You look so beautiful like this, angel. Spread out, eager, ready..." Simon’s voice trails off, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

"She does, doesn't she?”

Simon has to grip the bedsheet with his free hand as watches your tremors, taking in every soft sound you make. Your legs shake and your breath comes out in short gasps as he presses it further against you, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Simon, please- so so good-"

He's practically humping the bed from how desperate he is. He leans forward, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Let me taste her, Price. Just once. I promise I'll be gentle."

"pleaseplease..." you pant, your body writhing, needing that sweet release you know the vibrations will give you.

Price chuckles, ignoring Simon's words as your body trembles under his grasp, obviously getting closer to the edge..

Your body convulses as the orgasm washes over you, a loud cry escaping your lips. Price holds your legs open, watching as Simon's eyes widen, taking in every moment.

Simon keeps the vibrator on, steady, even increases it once more. If he can’t touch well he’s sure gonna have fun in his own way.

“Simon!” you practically shriek from the unexpected, continued stimulation.

He watches, entranced, as your body twitches and jerks with each passing second. The vibrator never lets up, pushing you higher and higher. You can feel sweat beading on your forehead, your breaths coming in short pants. "John, baby...please..." you manage to breathe out, your vision blurring slightly in the haze as you look up at him.

Price smirks, looking over at Simon. "Seems like my girl is a little sensitive today. Maybe you should stop before she gets too overwhelmed."

"I don't think so. I have a lot of orgasms to make up for., don't I?" Simon says, as Price keeps your shaky legs open whilst you whine at the sensations.

Price raises an eyebrow, "I suppose you do owe her a few as a thank you. Well, I guess we'll see how long she can last then, won't we?" He leans down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss.

Simon’s leaking with so much precum he can feel it as he continues this relentless assault on the sensitive nub. Your body writhes as the vibrations course through you, barely able to get a coherent word out as you cling onto Price's hand whilst another wave quickly hits you..

Simon watches, entranced, as your body quakes again, licking hi lips in anticipation, "Fuck, you’re gorgeous when you cum." He looks up at you, finally turning the vibrator off "The glowing look really does it for you." he adds as Price allows your legs to close.

Simon however, doesn't bother asking this time, diving right in with no hesitation. He holds your legs open himself as he laps up your juices.

Price chuckles, watching as he does so, "Greedy little thing, aren't you?" He strokes your hair, looking back down at you. "You alright, love?"

“Still sensitive-” you whine a little shakily as Simon's tongue works your folds.

Price smiles, "I bet you are." He leans down, softly kissing along your jaw. "But you'll take it anyway, won't you?"

You nod as your thighs close around Simon's head, back arching as you squirm on the bed. Price grips your hips, holding you in place. "None of that, love. Be nice, let him have his fill."

"S'too much-"

Price leans down, whispering in your ear, "Take it like a good girl. Show Simon how much you can handle."

Simon practically growls as his tongue explores your pussy, gentle kisses to your clit as he tries his best to be nice, not wanting to go too overboard on you. Grinning to himself as he tastes you. “Tastes so fucking divine.” Simon groans mostly to himself as he finally frees his cock, stroking it as he eats you out like a starved man.

Price watches intensely, feeling a stir in his own pants, "Look at you, driving him wild." He leans in, nipping at your neck. "Do you like seeing him like this, love? So desperate for you?"

You nod, whimpering as Price and Simon keep you held down for him, "Sii, please- God, fuck-Simon please-."

"What was that, love? I didn't quite catch it."

"You guys are both pricks." you manage to joke, instantly shutting up as Simon pinches your clit in response.

Price laughs, "Watch your mouth, sweetheart. Or I might have to find something to fill it with. Speaking of...since Simon’s so desperate for a taste of you, maybe I’ll let him taste you on my cock later.”

Simon looks up, licking his lips. "You know I’d do it" He grins, diving back in, his tongue relentless as it slides inside you, your body tensing at every swipe.

Price leans in, "That's it, love. Cum all over his face. Show him what a good girl you are." His cock twitches in his pants, but he waits, he’ll have his moment later

Simon sucking your clit, sends you over the edge, your climax washing over you, a loud moan tearing from your throat as you cum. Simon lapping it up eagerly, not missing a drop as his lips glisten with your juices.

Price watches, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Good girl," he praises.

Simon honestly looks like he’s about to go in for more so Price reaches for his hair and gently pulls him away, “Let her breathe.” he warns.

Simon pants, looking up at you both, his cheeks rosy and a bead of sweat beginning to form. "Fuck, that was amazing." He grins, licking his lips. He finally straightens up, his cock covered in pre, looking red and achy, desperate for release.

Price looks at Simon's cock, then back to you. "Think we should let him get a proper release too, love?"

He watches your nod, saying "Alright then. Only because my beloved wife says so."

Simon grins, leaning in to kiss you and you can taste your own arousal on his lips. "Thank you." he mumbles, tongue meeting yours and gently stroking your hip.

Price watches as Simon feels you up during your kiss, his erection resting against your thigh.

"You gonna help him, love?" Price asks, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. And as you both kiss, one of your hands travels down his scarred chest, over his stomach and lower. Your hand smears the precum along his tip as you begin stroking him.

Price groans, "Mhm, good girl." He leans in to you both, capturing Simon's mouth in a filthy, messy kiss, tongues tangling together, sharing your taste. It's downright nasty, trails of saliva connecting their lips as you pull back a moment to watch.

Simon moans into the kiss, his hips jerking as you stroke him faster, his cock leaking more. “Fuck cap’n please let me inside her one more time-”

"Beg properly."

"Please, Captain Price. I beg of you, let me fuck your wife one more time. I'll make her feel so good, I promise. Please, fuck- please." Simon pleas desperately, looking between the two of you, his cock feeling so neglected.

Price pretends to consider the request for a moment before a knowing smile crosses his face as he nods, "Only because you asked so nicely."

"Without the condom this time?" Simon quietly adds, avoiding eye contact.

“No.”

“Please, I’ll pull out-”

“You won’t.”

“I will.”

Price raises an eyebrow, "Are you trying to negotiate with me, soldier?"

"I'll pull out just before or I swear you can shoot me in the leg." Simon says, tone shaky from the lust threatening to consume him.

Price smirks, "Deal. But if you don't, I'll aim a little higher."

"Okay well don't go that far." Simon jokes.

Price chuckles, "Then don't make me." He turns to you, "You alright with this?" you nod as Price shifts you off his lap, adjusting you so so you’re comfortably laying on the bed, Simon in between your legs.

One of your hands instinctively reaches out to rest on Price’s sweats, running your fingers along the outline of his erection through the fabric. Price groans softly, "Behave, love. This is about Simon getting his turn." he looks down at you, “I’ll take care of you after he’s had his fix.”

“I can do both.” you mumble just as Simon lines up at your entrance, looking at you with hunger in his eyes. "Ready, sweetheart?"

"Please, Simon-" you say softly, "Want it so badly."

He pushes in, inch by inch, until he's fully seated. "God, you feel incredible." Price watches, his hand covering yours, pressing it harder against his bulge. "Make her feel good, Simon."

Simon begins to move, slow and steady at first, building up speed as you match his rhythm, your breath hitching with each thrust. Price leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, his hand never leaving yours, guiding it to stroke him through his sweatpants.

“You feel so much better like this, without the condom, can actually feel your walls clenching around me, shit- it's soo good.” Simon groans as he increases his pace, lifting your legs up high enough to rest on his shoulders so he can angle himself deeper.

Price breaks the kiss, looking at Simon. "I can tell she likes that, give her more." he encourages Simon. Something about seeing his wife with one of his best soldiers was really doing something for him and he'd be lying if he said this would never happen again.

Simon complies with Price's words, bullying his cock into you, his balls slapping against you with each thrust as you let out a string of curses, along with constant pleas of Simon's name.

Your hand frees Price’s cock from it's restraints, giving it some attention as Simon practically bends you in half when he leans down to kiss you, his cock constantly hitting that sweet spot from the position.

Price groans, watching, "Fuck, yes. Just like that." he guides your hand, showing you exactly how he wants it as Simon sloppily kisses you, can hardly focus with how good your pussy feels, how well it takes him in. His tongue dances with yours as he continues to pound into you.

Simon whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. He kisses along your throat, biting occasionally as his cock swells inside you, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He leans up again, capturing your mouth in a desperate kiss

“Ahh si- filling me so well, thankyouthankyouthankyouu”

Simon's thrust intensify, his pace increasing. His hips snap forward, burying himself deep inside you with each thrust. His grip on your legs tightens, using them to pull you onto him as he pistons in and out, his movements becoming almost frantic. His breath comes in ragged gasps, mingling with your moans as he grinds against you, hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back. 

His cock slides in and out of you, coated in your arousal, creating a lewd, wet sound that fills the room. His lower body grinding against your clit, with every movement he makes, the pressure building with each movement. His balls slap against your ass, the sound echoing in the room. His fingers dig into your flesh, leaving marks as he chases his release.

“Simon, please, I'm so so close-” you whimper, clinging onto him as if he's the only thing grounding you right now.

Price leans down, whispering in your ear, "Cum for him, love. Show Simon how good he's making you feel."

Simon's eyes lock onto yours, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his own climax. "Fuck, baby...you feel so fucking good. I'm gonna- god-"

Your pussy clamps down around Simon's cock as you scream your release, stars bursting behind your closed eyelids. Your body shakes and trembles, your nails digging into Simon's arms as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure. A string of unintelligible words spill from your lips, lost in the fog of ecstasy.

It takes everything in Simon to let you ride out the waves of your orgasm and not explode. Eventually pulling himself out and lowering your legs as he shoots ropes of cum across your stomach.

Taking a brief moment to breathe before being unable to resist and having to run his thumb along your stomach, coating it in his release as he brings it up to your lips.

You open your mouth, sucking Simon’s thumb clean without hesitation and he groans at the eye contact before collapsing beside you on the bed, one hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on your waist.

"You tired, love? Or can your poor ol' husband get some love too?" Price teases.

“I can do one more.” you whisper, still catching your breath.

Price grins, "Good girl." he removes his sweatpants fully as he climbs on the bed, not wasting any time as he hovers above you, teasing your folds with his tip. "I'll be gentle, yeah?" he says softly.

You nod, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him in closer. "I love you."

Price smiles, one hand caressing your cheek as he pushes into you slowly. "Love you too, my beautiful wife."

Price enters you inch by agonising inch, savouring the feeling. Once fully seated, he pauses, letting out a content sigh. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, his tongue exploring yours as he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one designed to draw out your pleasure. He grinds against you as his hands roam your body, caressing every curve, every dip, as if committing it to memory, even though he already knows he has every inch of you mapped out. 

His cock slides in and out of you, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You can feel every ridge, every vein, as he moves within you. His thickness stretches you, filling you completely, yet it's not enough.

You want more, you need more. You tilt your hips, urging him to go faster, but he maintains his torturously slow pace. He leans down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your core.

Simon watches as his breathing finally steadies, he knows he made you feel good, but also knows that Price knows your body better than he does, of course. And it’s evident with how he picks up on every small twitch of your body.

Price whispers words of love and devotion in your ear, his voice husky with emotion. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you palpable. "More," you pant, your fingers digging into his back. "Faster, John. Please."

Price obliges, picking up the pace slightly, but still keeping it slow and steady. "Like this, love?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounds into you, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. With each thrust, he brings you closer to the edge, your bodies moving in perfect sync. 

"I'm close, baby," he grits out, his voice strained. "God- can feel you are too."

You nod, your body tensing as you climb towards your peak. "Yes, John, fuck- yes, ah, so good!"

He reaches down, his thumb finding your clit and circling it, pushing you closer to the edge. "Cum with me," he commands, his voice hoarse.

Your body quivers, your inner muscles pulsating around him as you cry out his name, tears pricking your eyes. Price lets out a guttural groan, burying himself deep inside you and staying there, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his hot sticky cum.

He leans forward, kissing away your tears. "Shh, it's okay, love. I've got you," he murmurs softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. He slowly slides out as he holds you close. One of your hands reaching out to find Simon so he feels included.

Simon takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. "You two are beautiful together," he says softly. "It's so sweet it's fucking sickly."

You laugh softly as Price smiles too, kissing your forehead before sitting up, “You said you’d taste her on my cock didn’t you?” he teases Simon, a smirk crossing his face.

Simon grins, eagerly leaning forward as he takes Price's semi-hard cock in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip, collecting your combined flavours. He sucks gently, taking it further into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing out. Simon hums in approval as he takes him deeper, the vibrations sending shivers down Price's spine. He pulls back, his tongue lapping at the length, cleaning every inch.

You lean down too, joining Simon, your tongues tangling as you share the taste of Price's cock.

You both take turns licking and sucking along it, your tongues occasionally meeting, sharing a kiss before moving back to your task. Your heads bob in sync, your hands working in tandem, stroking and caressing Price's length.

“Alright, alright- Think you two have cleaned it enough. Better stop now before we get worked up again.” Price half jokes.

Simon pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he says with a grin.

You all share a laugh before laying back on the bed together. Price wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. "Tired, love?" he asks softly.

“Mhm.”

“Yeah m’exhausted too.” Price yawns.

“Probably because you’re an old man, now.” Simon mumbles.

“Hey!” Price laughs as he leans over you to whack Simon’s arm.

“Kidding! Kidding, chill.” he laughs, before taking a deep breath, “I need a shower.”

“Me too.” you mumble.

Price stands up and picks you up bridal style, “Come on then, let’s get you into to the shower.”

Simon stands up as well heading towards the door, ready to leave the bedroom when you stop him, “Wait, Si- Where are you going?”

“To shower?”

“Our shower can fit three, you’re more than welcome to join.” Price winks, carrying you in.

And Simon smirks, shaking his head as he follows you both in, shutting the bathroom door behind you all.

༄ this took forever to finally finish so it would be greatly appreciated :)

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[ink-n-shadow]

sending the 141 dudes "i just finished masturbating" out of nowhere ;0

i just realized i read your request wrong, gin </3 but pls enjoy this one while i work on your actual request😚

[ FINISHED ] 𝜗𝜚 the texts where the CoD men text you after they finish jerking off

𝜗𝜚 characters: simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, john price, kyle “gaz” garrick 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), allusions to oral sex, consensual swapping of nudes/videos

[thedivinetexts]

Ghost sharing you with the rest of the 141, simply because he honestly can't keep up with your sex drive. Ghost fucking loves you, but he isn't in the mood that often. It's a wonderful thing when he is — he always gets you sobbing from pleasure with his nice, thick cock and dirty words spilling from his mouth — but it just doesn't happen much. Between his chronic pain flaring up or his ptsd rearing its head he finds it a little difficult to want to fuck you as often as you'd like him to. He knows you're more insatiable than him and he feels guilty sometimes, not being able to keep up; even though you have never and would never complain about the infrequency of sex.

Takes a while for him to come to terms with it. Takes a bit longer for him to decide on what he thinks is the only suitable option; let his mates, the men he trusts with his life, have their way with you. Starting with the one he trusts most.

It's nerve-wracking the first time he lends you to Captain Price, some cynical part of him worried that you'll like it a bit too much and decide Ghoet isn't worth sticking around for. Ghost shouldn't have been worried though — Price sends along a video of him fucking you, assumedly recorded just seconds before. The noises you make are loud and filthy. You're clearly cockdrunk and almost incomprehensible when you whine. But when Price growls the question in your ear, you don't hesitate.

"Tell us who you belong to, sweetheart, go on. Who owns you, darlin?"

"S-Simon!" You moan, nearly sobbing it out. Ghost's hand is on his clothed cock as he watches you cry and squirm. "Ah, 'm Simon's! Please, please, fuck, please!"

Price chuckles and the video cuts just as his hips speed up. A moment after Ghost is finished watching, a text pops up underneath it.

> Got yourself a good one.

[frudoo]

A non Zombie apocalypse 141 poly

They find another survivor looking for supplies and decide to make her their wife.

I went a lil crazy on this one ngl

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con but nothing sexual. Fem!Reader.

It was that colossal motherfucker you saw first—the one you almost wasted an arrow on because of that creepy skull mask he wore. The big bastard was raiding your shelter, a little storage room in what used to be a department store. Believe it or not, the mannequins you placed outside of your hideout were enough to deter the zombies away, so you had a pretty good thing going. That was before this dumb brute decided to ruin all your hard work and steal your canned goods.

     Your plan was to shoo him away and tell him to piss off, but he wasn’t having it. No, instead, he made you carry your own supplies back to his shelter, where there were three other men to feed. Fuck, you had enough food to last yourself about three months, but now, with these giant men who no doubt have massive appetites? You’re lucky if it’ll last a week. 

     You’re sitting on a raggedy couch between the pretty man with the ball cap and another with a stupid overgrown mohawk now, arms crossed with a foul look on your face. Across from you sits the fucker with the skull mask, and beside him in an ancient recliner is a bearded man wearing a weird hat. Every now and then you let out an annoyed huff, earning yourself a pointed stare from each of them.

     “Are ye gonna eat summat, or jus’ pout like a wee baby?” Mohawk Man asks you through a mouthful of lukewarm spaghetti hoops. 

     You flip him off without even looking at him, earning a few snickers from the other men. If you weren’t so pissed off at all of them, you might have allowed yourself a little smirk. In fact, you feel the beginning of one curling at the corner of your mouth, until Ball Cap™ pulls you into his lap and traps you there with his strong arms. You yelp and try to shimmy out of his grasp to no avail. You go to bite him, but the second your mouth opens, a spoonful of beans gets plopped inside.

     “Swallow,” Skull Guy commands, covering your mouth with one wide palm in case you decide to try and spit it out.

     You glare at him the entire time, but still obey his explicit order because you truly are hungry. You give up on trying to escape the pretty man’s grasp, letting your body go limp. It’s probably wise to save your energy, anyway.

     “Good bird,” he praises mockingly. “Now, since you’re through bein’ a brat, I’ll introduce everyone. 

     “M’Simon. Tha’ there,” he points at the one with the mutton chops, “is John, or Cap’n, dependin’ on his mood. Beside you’s Johnny, but we call him Soap. The one you’re sittin’ on is Kyle. We call him Gaz when he’s bein’ a dick, though.” 

     You nod like you’re paying attention, using his distraction as an opportunity to steal the can of beans from his hand. It’s a weird group, for sure, but aside from the fact that they’re thieving bastards, it might be nice to have more humans to help protect you from the hoards of the undead. It’s a step up from mannequins, anyway. Perhaps it also helps that they’re all insanely attractive.

     “Wha’ aboot ye, hen? Go’ a name?” Mohawk Man—or, Johnny, apparently—asks with a cheeky grin. 

     Before you get the chance to tell him your name, the one with the mutton chops, John, interrupts you. 

     “No matter, is it? We’ll call her our wife soon enough.”

     You nearly drop the can of beans when you process the words that just came out of his mouth, choking on the bite you just took. Kyle pats your back until your little coughing fit ceases, and Simon wipes the sticky residue from your mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. None of them, you observe, are as baffled by John’s statement as you are. It makes a weird feeling churn in your gut.

     “A-all… all of you?” You stammer nervously, then start again with a lilt of confusion in your voice. “Wife?!”

     “Yes, dove, all of us,” Kyle confirms, confiscating the can of beans from you and setting it on the ground. 

     “Aw, don’t look so scared, sweetheart,” John stands from his place in the old recliner, stepping in front of you and lifting your head up to look at him with his pointer finger hooked beneath your chin.

     “I take good care o’my men. We’ll take good care o’you, too.”

[starsofang]

Tow-truck driver!Price who you call in the dead of night when your car breaks down. You’re lost, stuck in the middle of a long road trip to visit your family with hours left of your trip, scared and alone.

Tow-truck driver!Price who reassures you on the phone, listening to your hysterics, talking gently as he tells you he’s on the way and he’ll be there as soon as he can. It’s the first time you’ve broken down and needed your car towed, but Price was shockingly sweet when comforting you.

Tow-truck driver!Price who shows up just as he said, and you’re surprised he’s not old or ugly like you expected. In fact, he’s handsome, clad in an old work shirt that hugs his burly frame, jeans that shape an ass even you’re jealous of, and beat up boots to top it off.

Tow-truck driver!Price who greets you with a kind smile, aged crow’s feet crinkling in the corners of his eyes, teeth barely hidden from his facial hair. And, oh, his voice is nice. Gravelly yet soothing. It instantly puts your nerves to rest, and you watch him load your car up with a much lighter heart.

Tow-truck driver!Price who offers you a ride to your destination. You say no, you couldn’t possibly ask him for that. You were still a few hours from home, surely you can call a cab. But Price refuses to leave you alone in the middle of the night. A pretty bird, out ‘ere all alone? C’mon, I’ll take ya.

Tow-truck driver!Price who you end up in his truck with. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and the entire time while he drives, the banter is consistent. The two of you fall into conversation the whole way, him smiling and you giggling. He’s sweet, almost too sweet, but you find yourself more into him than you should be for a stranger you just met.

Tow-truck driver!Price who watches your face crumble when your destination comes close and you realize you don’t have the money for the ride like you thought you did. Price is willing to negotiate, though. He’s a nice man, especially to pretty birds. Of course he’ll help you out. That’s okay, sweetheart. You can put that pretty mouth to good use instead, hm? Won’t charge ya a dime.

Tow-truck driver!Price who pulls off to the side of the road, cock nestled in the back of your throat, head thrown back against the seat. His large hand firm on the back of your head, forcing you to take it all. And oh, you’re doing so good for him. Taking it all like a good girl. He might just have to keep you when you come back from your family visit.

Tow-truck driver!Price who’s greedy, even after shooting ropes of cum down your throat only minutes before. He has you perched on top of his lap from his seat on the driver’s side, hands digging into the plush flesh of your ass to bounce you on his cock, smacking it harshly every time it sets off the horn by accident. What a sight you are, too. Moaning like a bitch in heat, so desperate for his cock that you’re practically drooling for it.

Tow-truck driver!Price who has you dazed and content in the passenger seat afterwards, finishing the trip to your family’s as promised. You didn’t think he was going to dump you off and let you walk the rest of the way, did you? No, he’s a gentleman. Besides, he’s already decided in his head that you’re his now.

Tow-truck driver!Price who drops you off, walking you to the door like the man he is, before heading on the long journey back. He saves your number in his phone, only texting you when he’s finally home. You didn’t think that was the last time I’d see you, did you? Let me take you out to dinner, sweetheart. My treat. And who are you to deny him after he treated you so well?

[grlpartdoll]

errrmm idk i have been feeling sluggish and kitty-like all day so I decided to indulge in some fantasies. poly141 with kitty reader who's just a wild, feral little sleepy princess. *mdni* and also be aware of mentions of violence as well as tiny bits of smut! I scribbled this like a madman with his poetry back in the days, under candlelight, breathing feverishly, needing it out of me like some kind of demon needing to be exorcised. So needless to say it's not perfect, not reread, not corrected. Just some raw piece of my messed up lil head! Okay ^___^ Oki enjoy.

It's no secret that you're the team's secret weapon — some half-wild failed scientist experiment that left you more animal than human. Most people don't know exactly what it is you do, or what has been done to you, but they know that if even Ghost is afraid of you, then they better stay in your good graces.

You're a small thing, compared to those men, though in the real world you'd probably be deemed average sized. But next to them, you're tiny, small, even. You play coy and gentle and kind, never having to lift a finger because your boys do it all for you.

Sometimes you will simply drop, lay in a ball, and catnap. Even if it's during training, or in the mess hall, or meetings.

One time, Price was there with his whole team, including you of course, and you were going over training with the new recruits, and talking about how their lives would be from now on.

Until then, everyone but Price had been quiet, simply looking out for him from behind. Until Gaz felt a tug at his sleeve. As instinct went, the recruits' eyes followed you as you rubbed your eyes, a slight pout on your face as you whined quietly that you were sleepy. Like a cat, you stretched yourself wide a long, though even with your arms up, you didn't surpass the men's heights. Arching your back, you pushed yourself up against him, quietly mewling that you wanted your bed.

Scouting the room, he noticed every seat was occupied, so he simply scooped you up, sent that little secret gaze to Price that told him their princess was sleepy, and simply left.

As the recruits toured the barracks, they found gaz and you splayed across one of the old, vintage couch, with you practically disappearing under Gaz's sweatshirt, your little hands (paws) buried underneath it, with your face shoved in his chest.

On another day, while you were showing the recruits how to spar, paired up with Ghost, you got into a particularly scary position, with him cornering you, with his arm around your throat, and you made that tiny, distressed noise in the back of your throat, and that was all it took for him to let go.

You immediately scampered away once Ghost was done telling the recruits how to do what he did exactly, and dismissing them. You were a bit skittish, like a cat, and when cornered, you often bit— went wild again and scratched eyes out, or anything that you could reach, really, and it often put you back into that violent little headspace. You didn't particularly like that headspace — ironic, that you were in the army, sure, but what else were you meant to do with what you were given? — but since it was Ghost, you let him, though unable to swallow the little noises that escaped you.

And he feels horrible for it — because he never wants to hurt their sweet little girl, and god forbid you actually start to fight back again like you did at first.

So he goes to search for you when he's done, cursing underneath his mask when he can't find you. He eventually does, though, finding you curled up in your room, in the adorned little crate Price and the guys had gotten you. When you got into a particularly bad headspace, you would go into the crate (an old habit instilled in you from your old keeper, who would always put you in the crate if you so much as argued with him) which had been covered in pillows and blankets and little string lights to keep you occupied and your mind empty.

You're curled up in there, holding a little ghost plushie to your chest, murmuring a song.

He sits beside you, and speaks to you, slowly coaxing you out until you're curled up in his lap and putty in his hands once again.

It always takes you a few days to come back to normal, but it's always worth it, because Ghost likes his little kitty.

It's no secret, also, that Price likes a desk pet. That he prefers doing paperwork when you're sitting with him, at his feet, your head serenely splayed across his leg.

That's what you exchange for him filling out your mission reports — he gets some company, and you get to go blissfully head empty when he scruffs you and you kneel for him.

As for Soap, he likes the wild little you, so he takes you with him on runs, where it often ends with him chasing you through the woods surrounding the base, and playing games with you. He will play at any games you want until you're all knackered out, whining for him to carry you when you head back for base. This is how you end up forming a routine with Soap, who naps with you every morning until the sun is finally fully up. Price and the others don't particularly think the habit is healthy — to sleep so much, but it's Soap's fault! He's the one who got you running after him, and from him, all over the base! It's his fault you're such a sleepy, tiny little lass. He feels bad to let you sleep it off alone, duh!

But alas,

When you're on the field, you're a completely different person. The best in your field— some might say. This is why, despite your silly antics, and your quite inconvenient sleep schedule, the team keeps you around. (And because they're quite literally crazily in love with you, but.. no one says that. It's casuuuaaaal.)

On the field, you're too active, you swing too hard, claw too deep, and exhaust yourself. And even then, you keep going. You keep running. You're a marvelous sneak artist, getting past thousands of guards. You're a perfect trickster, all it takes is puppy dog eyes and quivering chin from you for enemies to get you inside their strongholds. You're their best sharp shooter, and their best fighter, despite how wild and almost animalistic your fighting style is. You always get the job done, and always do it without hiccups.

But sometimes, of course, not everyone can be perfect. Sometimes, you have so much adrenaline and so much rage built up in you that once the mission is done, you have a hard time disconnecting, you have a hard time stopping your fists from pummeling into an already dead man's face.

You kick and bite and scratch the whole way out as they rip you from dead, cold bodies. Which is exactly why you and the boys have a safe home, where they take you after missions, and fuck you pliant and sweet, bringing you back to the sleepy little wandering creature you are around base.

Soap is the best at it, though, always going full nights at a time with you. Price can go two rounds, maybe four if he's angry with something (never you), Ghost maybe five if he's very pent up and you've been bratting at him, but Gaz and Soap are always the ones that manage to fuck you back into your place the best.

Gaz will be softly murmuring at you, cooing and mumbling sweet words to you while his cock is ramming into your sweet, slick little tight hole, always breaking your walls with the kindest, most softest words, even if each of his thrusts are seemingly bullying your hole into taking him deeper each time he pulls in, and out. In, and out.

But Soap is the one who outdoes your wildness, who bites and scratches like you do, who will let you ride him until you're spent, and then ask for more, bouncing your limp little body on his cock until he cums for the eighth time that night. He's the one who meets every each of your kisses with just as much ferocity, letting it become more of a fight then a sweet, loving gesture — forcing his tongue into your mouth, licking your teeth, nipping at your lips, just plain nasty and gross, until you're both panting and drool is covering both of your chins.

Anyway. I just think it would be a cute little thing, to witness them all match you in different ways.

[libingan]

soft price moments??? soft price moments!!!!

price who is so gentle towards you only!!! he doesn’t even try to hide it, he likes to show off how you get special treatment from him :)))

price who speaks to you with such a soft tone, always ensuring his words are soft and calm. even when you’ve managed to upset him, he never raises his voice or allows anger to seep into his words.

price treats you as if you’re made of glass, always hovering nearby and tending to your every need with meticulous care. he refuses to let you lift a single finger, insisting on doing all the work himself.

okay, maybe he’ll let you help out, but only with the lighter work! anything else, he’ll insist on doing on his own!

naturally, price’s gentleness towards you extends into your bedroom activities :)))

price fucks you so slow, yet so deep, thick cock filling you up to the brim while his hands begin tenderly caressing your body, whispering sweet words of love and praise into your ear…

“takin’ me so well, love… so good for me, yeah? god, you feel so amazing… that’s it, sweet thing, tighten up around me…”

even when you beg and plead him to go faster, try to convince him that you can take it, he won’t ever budge! he’ll click his tongue, gently grabbing your face to lean down and silence your pleas with a passionate kiss.

he would never ever think of hurting you! even if it’s all consensual, even if it’s something you enjoy :((( he just cant, his heart cant take it :(((

price reserves his rugged and formidable demeanor for the battlefield, never bringing that facade into your home. In his eyes, you are the epitome of purity and the most cherished presence in his life. the mere thought of accidentally tainting you is something he cant bear.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I'm in a roll....

The 141 in grey sweatpants. 🥵

You're in a roll? Me too. A brioche roll. Or maybe a Hawaiian roll. Or rolled inside one of Price's many cigars. Kidding (not really). I knew what you meant.

And grey sweatpants...yes please! I am salivating over here. Literally drooling. And it's only grey sweatpants. No shirts. No shoes. Just sweatpants and muscle. (my god I need to go touch grass).

These are...spicy. How could they not be? It's our favorite men in nothing but grey sweatpants.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, swearing, invitations for sex, dirty thoughts, sexual situations, married life, fade to black

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“It’s bedtime. Bath. Pajamas. Teeth.”

“But Dad! Lucy and I—”

“Bed.” You grin into your glass as John ushers the children out of the living room. “Come on you two. I want to kiss your mother.”

“Ew. Gross!” the kids screech in unison.

The trio disappears down the hallway. You hear water running and the laughter of your children. John eventually emerges thirty minutes later. He runs his hand over the top of his head, sighing heavily.

When he enters the living room and notices you, he grins mischievously. His body is on full display. Broad chest with a lovely dusting of dark hair that trails downward to disappear beneath the band of his grey sweatpants. John is all thick muscle. A wall of strength. You’ve always loved that about him. How he seems to take up so much space or the way he crushes you with his body when he goes in for a snuggle.

John plops down on the sofa beside you. The moment his ass hits the cushion, John grabs for you. You giggle, playfully pushing at your husband as his weight tips you back, pinning you to the sofa.

“The kids,” you protest with a whisper.

“They’re sleeping,” he replies just as softly, keeping you pressed beneath him.

John goes in for a kiss. It is sweet. Slow. Deep. Completely indulgent. There is so much of him. And his scent is everywhere. It fills your lungs. Makes you weak.

Your lips part and John slips his tongue inside. You start to soften, to lean into his kisses. Each is salt-laced passion. A tease for later. He might have you pinned against the couch, and his tongue down your throat, but John will move this behind a locked door.

As John goes in for another kiss, the sound of a door unlatching comes from the hall. John freezes and you go still beneath him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters.

Pushing up to a more seated position, John addresses the offender with a raised voice. “You best be in bed.”

There’s a gentle squeak, and then a door closing.

John sinks back down, resting his forehead against yours. He sighs heavily, and you give him a quick kiss. He returns it, and then snakes an arm under your back. He hauls you up and into his lap. You straddle him, hands pressed against his firm chest.

Through the sweatpants, you can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. John’s hands roam downward to cup your buttocks, squeezing.

“Ready to take this elsewhere?” he asks, grinding his hips upward.

You have to stifle a moan.

“Please, John.”

With a light slap to your ass, he lifts you off his lap and onto your feet. The ground is solid. Steady. But then John’s hands return, and then you’re away, being guided down the hall to your bedroom.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You snuggle into the couch and crack open your paperback book.

Everything is in order. You have a glass of wine, a bowl of snacks, the tableside lamp on, and a cozy blanket. It’s late, but it’s officially the weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax.

“Reading out here?”

You glance up, and find Kyle in the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall. He’s shirtless. Without shoes. Just him, his freshly showered skin, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Kyle absently scratches at his chiseled stomach, head slightly tilted as he waits for your answer.

You can’t help but focus in on every line of muscle.

“Babe,” he prompts, laughing.

“Sorry?” you reply, blinking.

Kyle laughs again, the sound sweet. He strides forward, coming to a stop beside the sofa. He taps the side of his mouth. “Got some drool.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you giggle, checking with a quick wipe with the back of your hand.

Kyle’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it.

“Can I join you?” he asks, already lifting the blanket.

“You’re not going out with the boys?”

Kyle shakes his head. With one hand he lifts the blanket, and with the other he grabs your legs and lifts. He slides in, and drapes your legs over his lap before returning the blanket to drape over your body. Keeping one hand under the blanket, Kyle rests his hand on your inner thigh. It stirs heat in your core.

“Tomorrow,” he yawns. “Simon has a sick kid.”

“Bummer.”

Kyle shrugs, draping his over arm over the back of the couch. His hand on your thigh is a brand, and it’s only made worse when he starts massaging.

“Is it a spicy one?” asks Kyle, nodding toward your book.

Yes.

“Maybe,” you say slowly.

Kyle smirks, and then the book is out of your hand.

“Kyle!” You reach for it, but he twists, blocking your forward momentum.

He examines the pages in front of him. Heat rushes into your cheeks. As he reads, his eyes widen.

Kyle’s mouth drops open.

“What?” you prompt. You try to snag the book but he blocks you.

He glances at you. “Are you aware of where he’s putting that gun?”

“It’s fictional.”

“When you ask me to recreate things—”

“Kyle—”

“—is this what you’re talking about?” His gaze goes from you to the book and then to you again. “I’m down for a lot of things, love, but I’m not sure I’m down for that.”

Pushing off from the couch, you snatch the book out of Kyle’s hands. He surrenders it easily, a smile on his perfect face. The blanket is a crumbled mess beside him, but that’s not what you’re focused on.

The grey sweatpants have shifted, exposing more of the deep v of his pelvis. But it’s not just that. Kyle is hard. That is very clear.

He leans against the back of the couch, throwing both arms out to rest over the top. Flexing his hips, Kyle puts himself on display.

“I’ve got something else I can put inside you.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

A delighted shriek comes from the kitchen.

Johnny emerges, completely unbothered even with the two children in his arms. He has the oldest child, who just turned five, sideways and tucked under one arm. The boy has a wicked smile of his face even as he wiggles, trying to free himself from his father’s grasp. It’s fruitless.

The other child, a boy of three, keeps shrieking with delight even as Johnny lifts him into the air by his ankle. He is upside down, arms flailing, his brown hair hanging below him.

Johnny doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even break a sweat. He carries the two of them like it’s nothing.

He’s almost completely naked except for a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. They show off the deep v of his pelvis, and the dusting of dark hair that spreads over his chest and descends downward. You’ve touched that chest so many times. You know it as well as you know yourself.

Johnny’s gaze is on the television, watching the football match. The kids still shriek and playfully claw at him. But he remains unbothered.

Sitting there on the sofa, you consider that a third kid might not be so bad. You’d give him a small army if he asked.

Johnny glances away from the television, and when his gaze lands on you, it is entirely knowing. Heat curls in your belly, and his smile widens.

“Found these gremlins digging in the pantry,” he says, indicating the kids by hoisting the three-year old higher into the air and squeezing the other tighter against him.

Both kids giggle manically.

“After brushing their teeth.” Johnny tuts. “What’s to be done?”

Both children continue to giggle, not answering their father.

“Sounds like it’s time for bed,” you muse.

The children groan.

“But I’m not tired,” moans the five-year old.

“Too bad,” laughs Johnny. “Come on.”

He doesn’t put them down. He carries them like that all the way to their bedroom. Even from your spot on the sofa, you can hear their manic giggling. After a while, it quiets down, and Johnny emerges from the hall.

Instead of sitting down on the couch next to you, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television.

“Not interested in the game?” you ask.

“Nope. Want something else.”

His sultry smile tells you enough.

Slowly, he approaches, coming to a stop in front of you. He offers his hand, and you take it. With little effort, Johnny brings you to your feet, and hauls you close. Your free hand immediately rises, pressing against his chiseled stomach.

“What is it that you want?” you murmur, already knowing the answer.

His hardness presses against your belly, his voice going low and gravelly as he speaks. “I’d like to spend some time between those gorgeous thighs.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever I very well please.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

This is agony. A terrible joke.

Simon is right there. Sweaty. Shirtless. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.

He’s completely in the zone. Heavy metal blares through the stereo’s speakers, drowning out the sound of his gloved fists striking the punching bag. Morning light pours in from the open window, giving Simon an ethereal glow.

You watch from the doorway, chewing on your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him. Simon is all muscle, and not in a gym rat way. He is thick everywhere. You want to lick the sweat from his skin, to drop to your knees before him, and tug those grey sweatpants down.

You know what you’d find. And it sounds delicious.

But he is in the zone. And you won’t disturb him.

Pushing down the naughty thoughts, you start to turn away, to return to the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast.

The music abruptly cuts off.

“See something you like, love?”

Simon’s raspy voice draws you back to the room. With one hand on the doorframe, you meet his gaze, and promptly melt into the floor. He has a cocky grin on his face, and his shoulders heave slightly from exhaustion.

You lick your lips. “Always,” you reply, fingers digging into the wood.

Simon’s gaze scans you. You feel exposed, like he can see through your clothes. It’s knowing. Amused.

“What is it?” you prompt, staring just as hard as he is.

Simon removes one glove and then the other. He tosses them to the side, never taking his eyes off you.

“Come here,” he says.

You don’t move.

Simon arches a single eyebrow. Instead of repeating himself, he gestures with one finger, indicating that he wants you to come to him.

Heat rushes from your cheeks down to your toes. Slowly, you peel yourself away from the door, heading for him. Simon’s natural swagger is alluring, and those sweatpants sit so low.

Just one tug. That’s all it would take. And you’d be able to take him in your mouth.

As you approach, Simon reaches out, grabbing your waist, tugging you close to him. You instinctually hook your finger in the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Simon smirks.

You inhale deeply, savoring the manly musk of him.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Not for breakfast,” you sigh.

“For something else then?”

You nod.

Simon leans in but doesn’t kiss you. He holds back slightly, lips curved into a hint of a smile. “Want to hear what I have in mind?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Simon presses his thumb on your bottom lip. “I can fill that mouth.” His thumb drops away from your lips, and trails over your chin before brushing over your stomach. “And belly.”

His gaze stays on you. “What do you think of that, love?”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[chaosandmarigolds]

Coco, coco! What's it like being an EMT- let me translate it into something that I think is funny or at the very least entertaining

So hypothetically, you're fresh out of EMT school- ten weeks and you're ready to take on the world. You get hired on a private ambulance company that runs mostly IFT's, however with some begging and pleading you get placed on the 911 (emergency call-in) bus

That is where you meet retried military medic, the first thing he does upon meeting you? casually quizzing you.

"Mmhm albuterol, what's it's class."

"Uh...um, beta-2 agonist."

The medic who insists on going to get at least three energy drinks from the local gas station before the first call rolls in

The retired medic who would really only speak to you if he was correcting you if it is nudging your hands down when doing compressions, or taking the radio to do the call in 'correctly'

The medic pays for all of the fast food because he 'has the money to spend'

The medic who gave you a silly callsign for a name when you first met, but you use it out of respect and as does most, yet the same the medic who gives his name with a smile to the pediatric patients before telling them that his favorite dinosaur was a pterodactyl

The retired medic who calls you private as a joke, telling patients 'that's my private' to earn a little laugh

The war-hardened man who lets you play the most girly-pop music in the bus, sometimes requesting the name (he really likes that one 'Sabrina woodworker' song, coffee as he thinks it)

The medic who requests you whenever he can, as he does get to play favorites, shrugging it off as he wants someone 'competent'

The retired man who sits outside of the bay once the shift is over with a cigar

"Those kill you."

"No shit?"

The same man that puts himself in between you and the drunken slur of a man when the patient gets agitated

Was the same one who cries in the bus after losing a patient, scolding you for being too calm as you try to convince yourself that it was alright

(WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T HEALTHY COPING!?! Anyway, idk what this is.)

Also!! The medic who takes you out to drinks with his old team and apparently there was a miss-communication on what the label 'partner' was

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi hello good day! May I order an extra spicy mille-feuille with a side of mocha coffee for John Price please?

bakery menu

want to order your own dessert? the bakery is still open! always accepting prompts especially from call of duty and formula one! get kinky! get sexy! order up!

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by capt. john price!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, rough sex, wife!reader, husband!price, age gap (20s/40s), doggy style

price had a pretty wife! price had a pretty wife! johnny said in a sing-song voice when price returned to base after a "sabbatical", the other men knew what was up the moment he took off his gloves and there was a shiny gold band on his left ring finger.

captain jonathan price of task force 141 had bagged himself a missus!

while johnny's comments were juvinile, it was all in good fun. price never talked about you a lot on base. off base, the boys of 141 had met you and eaten your cooking. but, price kept you close to his chest.

he didn't want anything to happen to you.

when johnny gave him a shove of congratulations, price narrowed his eyes at the younger man, "i am still your captain. don't forget that mactavish."

"of course sir!" johnny laughed as he scratched his jaw, "just 'appy for ya!"

"so what's the plan now?" kyle asked as he gave his captain a firm handshake. in all fairness all three men were curious. you had the house, the ring, what was next for the price's?

price leaned back a little in his chair and shrugged, "well, we're tryin' for a kid when i get back. she's worried by the time i finally retire all her eggs will have dried up!" then gave a hearty laugh, "feels good bein' married to my wife. she a good woman!"

-

price was anxious to go home the second he left home for the next mission for the task force. so the day he got to return to his wife, he was all smiles as he took his belongings back home.

his cock was also painfully hard. he hadn't had the chance to relieve himself in a few days, so his cock was aching for a release. and no better place to put it than in his pretty wife.

he pulled up to the house that you two had been living in before you got married. he got his belongings and headed to the front door. when he knocked on the door, he heard the yapping of your dog.

"pumpkin! stop! down!" he heard your voice and smiled. when the door finally opened, he was instantly met with your arms around him. he held you as best as he could.

"hello, love." he smiled.

you kissed him off the lips and took his boonie hat off. you put it on your head before you giggled and took his hand. you brought him inside and price got a full view of what you were wearing.

the tank top was too tight and the sleeping shorts were too short. he made a face and said, "you've been wearin' that while i'm gone?"

you looked at him and said, "yeah? and the ring too!" then burst into laughter, "i'm joking, honey. i put this on for you. i was excited to see my husband."

price knew from the moment he met you, that he could never say no to you. he just loved you so much, it was almost an ache when he was apart from you.

he knew very well that you were leading him upstairs to the bedroom. he gave pumpkin, your german shepherd a pet and a promise they'll watch coronation street when he was done with her "mama."

price waved to the dog who was sitting there confused what her mama and papa were doing. he closed the door and you were on the bed, the tank top and shorts were off. leaving you in a cute mismatched pair of bra and panties.

you looked so adorable. it made price's cock twitch in his pants. such a pretty little wife. a wife he wanted to dick down and breed until you were nice and round with his children.

oh, he hoped you weren't stopping at one price baby. he was thinking at least three, maybe five if he can stick a pair of twins into you. (irish twins would just have to do if that didn't work! price was a man of many plans!)

he got out of his clothes, his hairy body made you drool. along with the strength in his muscles. you swallowed when he invaded your space and took off your under garments. it was like opening a present.

"my beautiful wife." he said. he took you and got you on your elbows and knees, even getting your pillow to put under your head. he took in the sight of you, back arched for him. ready to accept all he'll give you. he rubbed your ass “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

you whimpered against the pillow and felt your husband behind you. you held onto the covers under your head and sighed contently. your pussy was wet, he could clearly see that.

usually he had a cup of tea when he got home, but this was just as good. if not better. he knelt behind you and stroked his cock a few times at the sight of you.

his tip was leaky and his balls felt heavy. such a pretty sight, a submissive little wife (it was the only time you were actually submissive. price knew he married a firecracker!). he rubbed the slick tip up against your slit.

"pretty girl." he purred, then slowly sank into your sweet pussy. his hands on your hips as he pushed in. he heard a sweet moan and watched your back arch more.

"john. please." you panted as you held onto the covers.

"i got ya, love. always got ya." he started his pace, his thrusts were hard but steady. sex was rough, but it made it all feel so good in your bones. it felt like two parts of the same whole.

you were perfect for one another, even when he was breeding your sweet little pussy. he thrust against you, watching your ass jiggle at the force of his movements.

he felt the sweat dip down his back as he moved against you, his heart raced as he felt snug in his wife's pussy. you were just perfect, the most amazing little thing he had ever laid his eyes on. a gift from the heavens for him.

his sweet woman.

"john. please, i love you so much. i can't wait to start a family with you. you're perfect, i love you. you've made me the happiest i could be!" you whined into the pillow. you held onto it under your head.

"i love when you say my name, love. sounds so right on your tongue." he laughed as if he didn't have the most common name in the world. but the way it rolled off your tongue while he was balls deep inside of you made him feel good.

you whined in between your giggle as his soft words. even if his thrusts were hard. he melted you to your core and made you hot all over. it was erotic and it made you sweat.

the two of you continued to move together, his calloused fingers dug into the meat of your hips, enough to leave bruises.

"such a pretty girl."

the sex became harder, like a carnal need for the two of you to reach climax. for him to breed you, he pressed his chest against your back and wrapped both of those strong arms around your middle.

you whined and he panted heavily in your ear. he ached all over for you. his cock bullied into you and his breath was ragged.

"john."

"my girl. my wife." he purred and it sent you over the edge. like fire in your veins.

you clutched onto the bed under you, your back arched and you climaxed. you felt it take the air out of your lungs as he continued to batter your pussy. all in the name of growing your family.

your core throb as his continued movements. you panted heavily and let him get close to his own orgasm. his forearms clenched around you as he

he finished inside of you, and dropped his arms from around you waist. he slowed down and then pulled out. he took you into his arms and kissed at your sweaty neck.

"mmm, my good wife." he said with love in his voice. his cock was still painfully hard. one round wasn't going to make sure his little missus got knocked up! he rubbed his slick cock against your back and said, "perfect for me. we're gonna make a big family, love."

you smiled while still panting and held onto him tightly. you could feel your husband's love as he spooned you. he kissed your neck tenderly and you said, "get me some water and we can go again."

-

you rubbed your achy middle when you felt your son shift against your kidneys. you then poked your belly, "you calm down there." currently he was known as john jr. but you were convincing your amazing, lovely, handsome husband that there were more names than just john.

for now, he was known as peanut. you checked the noodles for the pasta dinner while price was chopping up the mushrooms for the sauce. his sleeves were rolled and those strong arms were on display.

you made a face,

you looked at pumpkin who was seated by your feet, waiting for her chance to have just one noodle. you chuckled and looked at price while you bent down a little to feed the german shepherd one of the penne noodles before you went back to the noodles

"i saw that." price said with a chuckle even if he back was turned to you. he was smiling however. he wouldn't expect anything different from you. when he finished with the mushrooms, he slung a bulky arm around your middle and kissed your cheek.

you turned your head to look at him and giggled, "i love you."

he kissed you on the lips then said, "i love you more. now and forever."

[rodolfoparras]

Cw: 18+, sub male character, dom male reader, titjob, feminization

Thinking about getting a titjob from a flat chested man, watching him desperately try and push his small pecs together in order to create some friction. His tits are sensitive to the touch despite not having much to work with, nipples hard under your thumbs, and whiners and whimpers escaping his lips as your cock and balls glide across his chest. You have to use lots of lube in order to set a steady pace of your hips , obscene squelching sound ringing throughout the room with every thrust. You even got your big rough hands pinching, slapping and squeezing his pretty little tits all while showering him in compliments

“got such pretty little tits princess” you grunt out, puncturing each words with a sharp thrust “going to cum all over them,” you continue to speak, knees firmly dig into the sides of ribs, thrusts turning more erratic as if you’re actually fucking him.

Your words has his hungry hole clenching around nothing, a sob trying to crawl its way up his throat as he realizes it’s going to be a while before he has your cock buried inside him

Soon tears start lining his pretty doe eyes and apologizes start tumbling past his mouth because he knows this won’t actually be enough to make you cum, and you watch the way he desperately tries to assist with his mouth, puffy lips eagerly suckling on your fat cock, letting you fuck his mouth like you would his cunt, balls obscenely slapping against his chin, taking you so far til his nose is brushing over the base of your dick, having his face mirror the mess he’s got on his tits: spit, lube and pre smeared all over it, looking so proud when he eventually manages to make you cum (even though it wasn’t for his tits but rather how he eager he was to make it happen)

[frogchiro]

Can we get some more assertive y/n; like an assertive power bottom? I like being soft and shy but sometimes I wanna be a lil prick who gets roughly plowed for bad behavior.

That's Hacker Girl for you! She loves to be dommed and turned into a whiny mess but she can be a little shit too!

Just imagine turning Johnny and Kyle into whining, begging messed because you refused to let them fuck you while on a mission. The job was supposed to be an easy in and out, just for you to download some data Laswell needed and get the hell out of there but the guys had...a bit different ideas which ended up turning on them.

All the shooting, all the running got to them, testosterone started to pump, no thoughts just pure hormones and while camping out they got hard :(( They thought they could grope you a little bit, make you all nice and soft, give them a hand job or two or preferable let them fuck and you made their release be so near and so nice until...you just stopped, why did you stop >:(

And why are you giggling? This is serious! You made them all horny and frustrated and you should help them out now, not jerk them off a bit and suddenly stop :(

But you just playfully sneered at them that they got themselves in that mess and it's their job to fix it. If they want to blow their loads now in enemy territory it's fine but wouldn't want they to wait until you got back to base and then got the full experience of fucking you?♡

Ofc they accept, they are still young bucks and the prospect of getting to cum inside a pretty girl delighted them and with the unintentional edging the release will be even sweeter!

Imagine their betrayed faces and how hard their balls twitched when they arrived in your room only to see you riding a tired and worn out Price as he weakly growls out that he's shooting blanks by now and you just look at all the men with a shit eating grin♡

What a vixen you are♡