Just saying thank you for writing that 09 domestic simon <3 Scrumptious. Devoured it on the first read. You encapsulated all that will ever matter in a husband. Came for domestic simon, stayed for the rest of your writing on your blog. I know good writing and creativity when i see one :>
oh my goodness <333 this msg means so much to me I hardly know what to say! I hope I can continue to provide- though I tend to be a bit inconsistent LOL.. but thank you so so much for the kind words! I only hope to improve :-)
‘09 ghost has been on my mind lately. I just see him as such a domestic man and doting lover! Very chivalrous and a “That’s my wife!” mentality fs.
Wouldn’t forgive himself if you were to open your own passenger door after a date, and prior to that he was practically leaping over the hood of the car to open the door before you got out. Tsking at you as he takes your hand and walks you to the entrance of y’all’s favorite chain restaurant because you best believe he’s splurging with an appetizer and dessert. “Anythin’ for my girl” he’d smile.
And on the very rare occasion that he has the day off but you’re the one stuck at work, your stress almost instantly vanishes when an assault of lemon scented cleaner and bleach fills your senses. Ghost definitely enjoys wearing the pants in the relationship but damn does he take the role of malewife seriously. The house would be cleaned from head to toe, a stick of incense burning (because he appreciates their stress reducing aroma), and burgers resting in the microwave. Because if he's one thing but a lovestruck man it's the king of the grill.
And when he's on deployment during the cold, dead of night- the thoughts he procures of you barely hold a flame to the actual warmth you could provide him. The cheesily posed polaroid of you he begged to take burns a hole in his pocket and his hands claw to retrieve it. A pining sigh being breathed from him as his palm comes to rub at his brow. Finally, he begins to warm up now that his thoughts are plagued of you and how he can spoil you when he gets back home.
Virgin König who was scared to touch you at the beginning of your relationship, but is now too eager to feel any part of his skin on yours.
Even the thought of you touching yourself clouded his mind when he didn't see you. The way your legs would part and you'd tease yourself, delving between your slick folds to satiate a carnal hunger acquired during the long distance. What did you think about? What were you imagining he'd do to you? How was he doing it?
He's come a long way since you started dating though. From being able to cum just from your hand running against his clothed cock. The fabric of his pants stiff with his hardening length that twitched from whatever touch you would provide. Your digits rubbing against his covered tip before tracing down the base of him. The teasing sensation only made him more excited before he would cum prematurely and he'd then beg his apologies. You would finally release his half-hard erection from the restraints of his pants and soiled boxers, and use your tongue to lick at the mess he made.
"D-das ist too much! Please schatz..."
Now he aches to be inside you in any way at any time. A thirst he would quench when you returned to one another and he would show you how much he missed you.
Starting with his tongue between your thighs. Moaning at the taste of you before suctioning his lips around your clit and using the whole length of his tongue to eat at you. The noises he made were louder than your own. His arms would be wrapped around your thighs and gripping at your flesh as his tongue alternated between providing fervored licks to your clit and thrusting between your walls. When your legs would tighten around his head he would groan into your heat, providing a vibration that helped to push you over the edge. He would then raise his head to look at you with low hung eyes, drunk with a type of intoxication that showed its proof on the tip of his nose to the bottom of his chin.
By this point he's getting desperately needy. His cock almost impossibly hard and thrusting slightly into the comforter as his finger works into you. The movement of his hips being a subconscious signal as he could only think about replacing the now two fingers he used to work you open with, with his cock.
When he finally starts to fuck you he is just much at your mercy as you were his. His hands are cupped on the back of your knees as he presses you down into the mattress. His hips meet yours with a lewd squelch as he tries to hide his whimpers from you, which you don't appreciate.
"Let me-let me hear you König" You encourage as your hand comes to cradle his masked face. Though his visage is more often than not concealed from you, you can see right through him. Over under and around him as he is like an extension of yourself. The both of you giving your all to one another.
He breaks into a cacophony of mewls and grunts. His breath hot on your neck as his pace significantly increases. The bedframe knocks against the drywall as the boxspring squeaks alongside it. You can hear the neighbors bang on the wall in response, but it doesn't seem like König cares. He's too absorbed in the way your slick folds envelop his aching length. His words are unintelligible, you wonder how he can barely think straight as his cock rams into the sensitive patch of nerves within your walls.
He's not thinking straight though. His hips move in a sloppy pace, the speed faltering as he moans into your ear. "Ja. Just for me. Just mein-"
He grinds his pelvis against your sensitive clit as he's practically bending you in half while he rails into you. Ushering words of praise as he watches your face twist with pleasure. "Will you cum for me? Bitte mein Liebe. It'd make me so happy."
It isn't until he feels you spasm around his cock that he allows himself to come undone. Fucking his leaking spend back into your cunt as you whine with overstimulation while he breathily laughs from exhaustion and a sudden dopamine boost that you both share.
(a/n: yes I want to make my lover a home cooked meal. yes I want him to wrap his arms around me while I cook. also I was this close to putting nsfw but I may just make a part two)
tags: husband!price, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, f!reader
Word Count: 1.8k
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Price who comes home to his doting wife standing in front of the stove. A roaring pot of boiling water being salted by your delicate hands which form a harsh pinch on the granules before releasing them into the porcelain dish.
He watches from the door as you slowly canter your hips, humming along to the soft melody of Al Green from your distant record player. His cheeks contort with a smile when he hears your abysmal attempt to recall the lyrics. Startling you out of your unaware serenade when his hands catch in the fabric of your dress to wrap around your waist.
"Smells good." He comments regarding the dish. His face is buried in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of garlic, rosemary, and other spices that coat the house in its aroma. Your own fragrance of vanilla overwhelms his senses as he sighs into the crook of your neck.
"It's not nice to sneak up on someone like that..." You chastise, knowing the irony that lies in your statement being as stealth is not something your husband is unaccustomed to. "Could've burned myself." You add, half-heartedly scolding and rolling your eyes as his arms tighten their purchase on your hips.
On the stove lies a pot boiling with its now added component of rigatoni. To its side is a sizzling pan that has been providing the house with its encapsulating smell. John eyes the skillet. The melted butter works to caramelize the now translucent onions coated in sparse flakes of red pepper and rosemary. A wooden spatula wielded in your hand stirs the minced garlic cloves, doing your best to prevent their quick to burn nature.
Price loves your cooking and you love to cook for him. Seeing as his face melts into bliss when he tastes what magic you have cast on something as simple as a chicken pot pie. Or the way his eyes bulge when you reveal that a dish he has been scarfing down like a starved dog over the past several months contains mushrooms.
Ever since that day, he has not once argued about an ingredient in your cooking. Even as he eyes the tomato sauce being added to the pan, knowing he is going to suffer a severe case of heartburn but almost welcoming it, as he knows it will accompany an array of flavors he will be holding up his plate for more of.
"M'sorry love." He relishes. "Been looking forward to this all day. N' watching you from the door just made me miss ya' even more."
You scoff at his cheesy comment, placing your left hand to rest on his forearm that is draped around you as your right stirs at the still hard noodles.
You lay your utensil down and lean back into his embrace. Closing your eyes as you feel your bodies link together like a puzzle. One piece being a head taller than the other, but fitting together nonetheless. You sway with your husband to the tempo of the song playing in the background. His body is warm against your back, being stripped of his tactical gear and left in a black cotton shirt tucked into the waist of his same toned cargo pants, the legs of which are folded above his combat boots.
"How was work?" You ask, eyes still closed and body entangled in him. He regards your question with a low hum, feet lightly stepping side to side.
"Hm, the usual. Told some of the boys we could treat em' to dinner sometime. Be nice to get together, maybe show you off a lil'?"
He lightly pinches at your sides while pulling you closer to him. The scruff of his beard dances against your skin as he attacks your neck in quickly scattered kisses.
"John!" You laugh while attempting to distance yourself from his assault. Only to be swiftly turned around where you find his blue eyes smiling fondly at you. The warm tinted light from a nearby lamp casts soft shadows on the crows feet that crinkle near his eyes. The edges of his smile lines sharpening the more he beams at you.
There's not a place on Earth he would rather be.
For the longest, he distanced himself from love. Only finding that unachievable compromises would be asked of him, and due to his work, he was never able to fulfill those wishes. It only put a strain on his and his partners' relationship. He learned to deal with the lack of intimate companionship over the years. Just having the bond of his brothers in arms till he would return to his empty flat and scrounge up whatever microwaveable dish hadn't gone freezer burnt or remnants of leftovers left in his barren refrigerator. Until he met someone he could incorporate into the unpredictable schedule of his life.
The first time you cooked for him he was floored. Joking about how he'd have to hire you as his personal chef and saying how he could only dream of coming home to this every week. You had brought the ingredients to his apartment, insisting that you would treat him to a hot meal if he helped you, which he gladly agreed to. He stood slicing carrots and celery while you stirred a pot of chicken stock, placing sprigs of thyme and bay leaves into the broth as the chicken roasted in the oven, soon to be shredded and added to the pot. Said pot being three times bigger than your head.
"You trying to feed the whole squadron?" He'd teased. To which you only responded with a light snicker, knowing that in making such a large portion would provide him with leftovers for the rest of the week-and then some.
Several years later you now stood in your shared home, a simple wedding band adorning the both of you two's hands. Price's socks litter the shared space until you have to reprimand him to pick them up. Him responding with his own accusations of how you frequently leave your bra on the couch as well as your adversity to keep your hair ties in one place. What can you say, it's just more convenient when they're around the house.
The two of you's cleaning habits aren't the only thing that could use work though. The decorations are an obvious clash of one person who enhances the space with homely, comforting pieces, and another who has a hard time letting go of secondhand artifacts. And after Price's constant defense of his 'live laugh love' banner hanging on the wall of the kitchen, you began to give in to the cliché relic.
A more than familiar tune begins to play from the record player.
"Oh my God" Price's teeth shine through his grin as he picks up on the melody as well. It's the song you shared your first dance together to.
His coordinated hands move to your hips, your own responding by wrapping around his neck. You gaze up at him. The quickening of your heart makes its frequent appearance as he looks down at you. The butterflies you feel every time you look at him have yet to diminish their strength over the years. Even as you heard stories of the dreaded period following the honeymoon phase where couples do nothing but bicker, your heart remained the same.
The only thing you can focus on is his hickory-toned voice humming to the lyrics of the track. The vibration rumbles through his chest, making its way to your ear resting upon him. He sways with your body against his until you are replicating the dance from that night. Since that night he has always made it apparent you were his first priority. He protects and serves you, as you have brought a peace to his life he didn't think was possible.
"Y'know on my way home," he began "saw this woman with her kid. Maybe 5 years old. He was sitting on a bench while she was on the ground tying his shoe. He was swinging his leg, reading some comic book to her. Poor lasses feet barely touched the ground!" He lets out a breathy laugh before pausing for a moment. "Just got me thinking."
"About?"
"Bein' a dad." He stated, kissing the temple of your face. "Making you a mum."
You smiled into his chest. John knew you wanted kids, and he did too. The time just never found itself convenient. And even now there are uncertainties, but the knowledge you have that John would be an excellent father left you planting seedlings of the idea in his head when you had the chance. Passing by a pair of cute baby shoes in the store. The ring of adolescent laughter when you'd visit the aquarium. Or even a dress you would buy, waiting for your husband to compliment it before mentioning the garment worked as a maternity piece too.
Something had been pulling at his paternal strings lately, however. He yearned to fill the house with the both of your makings. Leaving your marks in its foundation. Whether that be with the rug you both haggled for at the flea market. The broken spring of your living room couch, product of an intense wrestling match between you two. (In which both parties were considered victorious by the end.) Or the poolhouse-toned blue paint that made its acquaintance on the crown molding of your bedroom wall. (Also caused by some spout of play fighting or whatever attempt Price had to get his hands on you.)
You leaned back to search his face, only finding a look of great fondness pulling at his features. Your palms came to cradle the sides of his face before a smile stretched on your own.
"Yeah. I think I'd like that." You brought his lips to yours, embracing him in a tender touch as you laughed into the kiss. Your hold on one another tightened. Knowing that Price was ready to take such a giant step now made you giddy as you imagined him holding his future child, playing make-believe with them, and cleaning up their bumps and bruises from playing in the yard.
"Can't believe you're saying yes to a baby before a dog, John." You both laughed before you turned your head at the smell of burnt garlic.
"Shit!" You quickly grabbed a wooden spoon to stir at the red mixture before turning the stove off.
"Don't tell me you lost your touch already, sweetheart?"
"You were distracting me." You declare, pointing your spatula at the towering man. "Just get the bowls from the cabinet and set the table, yeah?"
"Of course, hun." He mocked.
You glared a burning look into the back of his before he did as instructed, your temper cooling as you poured the pot of soft noodles into a strainer.
You and John were able to turn a house into your home. Soon the floor and walls would be sheathed in memories of your family. One of the first being your dinner of a burnt tomato rigatoni pasta.
Tags: sick!simon, sub!simon, dry humping, p in v sex, penetration
Summary: Simon is sick and thinks he knows how to break a fever with the help of his girlfriend
Word count: 1.4k
Read here on ao3!
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He only had a small cold. Or at least, what was a small cold. And of course he acted like a helpless animal, asking you to feed him, bring him an assortment of medicines, and help him walk to the bathroom where he would then, ask you to bathe him. A cheeky smile that he hardly tried to hide displaying on his face.
You of course, didn’t mind caring for your afflicted boyfriend.
“You can’t take another Benadryl, Simon. You just had one.” Simon always prided himself on his flawless immune system. Now that his body has been compromised by harmful bacteria he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. But thank god he had you. For the past two days all he could do was mumble and groan from the couch. Exasperated “ehhgg’s” and whines of sickness filling the living room as the over 6 foot man struggled to lift his arms, begging for your help with the remote.
That’s why it surprised you to feel the searing warmth of his arms wrap around your waist as you stood in the kitchen. Your working hands coming to a stop on the meal you were preparing.
“Si- You’ve already contaminated our living room! I’ll be damned if I’m next…” You argued while attempting to shrug out of his grasp, finding your efforts ineffective. Over the past couple days you had made a valiant effort to sanitize the house and frequently wash your hands. You know Simon would take care of you if you fell sick, but you also knew that the idea of wallowing in the two of yous illness together was appealing to him as well.
“Mm, needa break this fever-” He murmured while burying his face into the crook of your neck. Laying hot kisses in his wake.
“Then let me make you a cup of tea. Or go take a warm shower don’t-!” His hands began to roam your body. Grasping at the skin of your stomach before moving to knead at your chest.
“Not what I had in mind” His words came out breathless. Whether that was because of his aroused state, his clogged sinuses, or both, you weren’t sure. But the needy grips his calloused hands laid on your body began to have an effect on you.
“You can go a few days can’t you?” Simon responded with an unconcerned hum, a low groan soon leaving the back of his throat as he grabbed your hips. Grinding his half hard erection against the flesh of your ass.
“You’ve been so good t’me. Can you help me some more?” His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, rutting the length of his bulge languidly against your backside. “Please.” He whined.
His hand came up to your neck, his index and thumb taking your chin and turning your face to meet his. It was too late to save yourself when his lips met yours, his tongue greedily working the wet room of your mouth as his hands massaged your breasts.
You sighed into the kiss, accepting the hunger that overtook you as well as the heat that gathered between your thighs. You soon gasped into Simon’s embrace as he was now turning you to face him, one hand resting on the back of your thigh as the other moved behind you. Haphazardly pushing the cutting board to the side so he could swiftly lift to place you on top of the counter. The cold stone of the counter caused you to arch your back as you pushed your chest into Simon, who now hurried to remove your top and bra. Exposing your hard nipples to the cold of the air that had previously worked to cool Simon’s fever, which only proved to be a futile attempt as the crimson on his cheeks only grew.
Simon pulled your waist so his erection could meet your clothed core. His eyes hung low with a fevered lust as you moved your hips to work against him. The both of you moaning as Simon hung his head forward between your chest, releasing sinful whimpers as he urgently rutted into you.
“Need ya’. Now” He demanded. Your brain began to cloud with its own brand of Simon induced fog. He was so desperate that you only wanted to provide for him.
Your boyfriend hooked his fingers around the waistband of your shorts pulling them down alongside your damp underwear to your ankles. Kicking them to the floor as he lowered his boxers and sweatpants, Simon revealed his hard cock, the tip smeared with a bead of pre-cum that you reached to run your fingers against.
He shuddered at the sudden attention from your delicate touch. His body was practically on fire. Having to separate himself from you only caused him to become pent up, needy for any attention that you would provide his weeping cock. Your hand wrapped around his length as you stroked him with expertise. Heavy breaths flooded the room. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter to steady himself as you worked his shaft. Your left hand came to cradle the side of his face. ‘Poor thing’
You twisted your hand around him, your thumb swirling the sensitive skin of his head as you whispered in his ear. “Is this helping you hun?”
His head nodded fiercely against your neck. “Mmm Mhm, thank you-” His delicious whines filled your ears as he began to lightly shake. Your own sex was becoming neglected when your left hand lifted his face so his eyes could meet yours.
“Can I fuck you,” he near but begged. “I can take care of you too.” His lips connected with yours for a passionate kiss. Butterflies spread in the pit of your stomach at his adoration for you. It wasn’t often he got like this but when he did you happily let him succumb to his urges. He parted his mouth from yours, a string of saliva connecting to your now glossy lips, and Simon still pumping himself into your hand. “Make you feel good.” He enticed.
You nodded your head when he took the head of his cock to swipe between your folds. Circling the slickened tip around your swollen clit and dragging it back in between your folds. His hands came to rest softly against your lower waist, thumbs digging into the crest between your thighs and torso. He began to push his length into your hot walls, his eyes closing to keep him from cumming right then and there.
“F-fuck” He sputtered pushing himself deeper into your core.
“Simon, please” Your legs lifted to wrap your calfs around his back. Your heels now digging into his ass to encourage his strokes. Simon got the message and pushed the rest of his cock into your begging cunt. Engulfing him with a boiling heat as you began adjusting to his size. He began to move in and out of you. His eyes locked to yours as he provided your pussy with slow, hard thrusts.
Each slap of his skin against yours elicited a moan from your lips that he returned with animalistic grunts of his own. 2 days too many away from your perfect cunt, and he was never a man of patience.
Your pussy squelched as he dragged the full length of his cock out of you before bottoming out again. His hand moved to the back of your head, bringing you in for a messy kiss while the other moved to your clit. Simon was amazed he had even lasted this long and as his orgasm began to approach its horizon he worked to bring yours to as well. You gasped into the kiss. His hand quickening its assault as his thrusts entered you at a new angle. Simon pistoning his cock against the patch of nerves that lay within your walls, your hold on him beginning to tighten as he talked you through your imminent climax.
“Cum on my cock pretty girl. I know you need it. I need it.” His words came out in a gravel like tone. He couldn’t hold it in any longer when your cunt began to spasm around his shaft, milking his own release from him as the coil in your stomach snapped. You threw your head back, your mouth falling agape as Simon growled against your neck. His hot seed filled you with a satiating intensity.
“So,” your breathing now labored, “So good Si.” Your hand came to massage the back of scalp as he littered your neck with kisses.
It wouldn’t be until another 2 days when he denied his involvement in your oncoming fever. His own having been broken when he suggested a new at home remedy to cure you.
Tags: porn with plot, non canon compliant, slight gore, angst, angst/comfort, reserved price, medic!reader, switch!price, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex, unprotected sex
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: Captain Price doesn't want to seek help for an afflicted wound caused while on a mission. When he does, he learns that doctor's visits aren't so bad if you are acting as his nurse.
Read here on ao3!
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It had been less than a day since the mission at the Embassy had to be aborted. Nearly all of the task force had been injured to some extent as evacuation efforts were initiated. With this came more stitches and sutures than you could handle as you tended to civilians in urgent need of care while simultaneously patching up your team.
It was an honest to god miracle that your team didn't suffer any fatalities by the looks of their injuries and their bone-deep exhaustion that had peaked once you made it back to home base. The base was quiet. Ghost and Roach sat on a couch in a dark corner off to the back where they polished their guns and took inventory, both suffering from a sprained leg or ankle that was accompanied by other bandaged appendages yet insisted on getting back to work. Gaz paced the floor, operating his neck from side to side in mechanical like motions to ease the crick in his neck as he impatiently glanced at the sling that contained his right arm. Though most of the men had endured some moderate to low level of blunt force trauma, Soap laid in the infirmary of the medical bay as he had suffered a skull fracture. Thankfully, the injury could have been far worse. No surgery was needed and he was prescribed a dosage of Tylenol for the pain as well as being advised to stay on a lengthened bed rest while the injury healed. Soap, of course, argued through a slurry of words that became incomprehensible after a professionally administered amount of hydrocodone. Thus, increasing his level of inebriated rage at the idea of taking leave which would be discussed at a further date. And most definitely argued against.
Price miraculously remained unharmed. Apart from some scratches and bruises to various parts of his body, of course.
"Captain, are you sure there's nothing you need my help with?" You were fatigued beyond reason but this was your job, and sometimes that included 36 hours of no rest. It was your responsibility to make sure the task force was in prime health and that meant putting their needs above your own when called for. Your efforts didn't go unnoticed by any means though. In fact, many offered their help in the infirmary even though their medical knowledge consisted of first-level basics and the handy usage of a tourniquet. They all however, thanked you for your assistance. And if not verbally some would provide a kind yet limp smile or a hand on the shoulder as an acknowledgment of your work.
Price, however, typically resorted to a firm but simple nod. The man now sat in his office revising a map of the area, glasses set low on his nose, and red sharpie hanging out his mouth in place of his usual cigar. You had just passed by to check in for the nth time if he really was okay when his eyes raised above the rim of his glasses to meet yours. It was a gruesome mission and although he was your experienced captain, he was notorious for writing off bloodied abrasions as a casual sore
"Positive." He declared. You weren't going to force him into the medical bay but you did want to stress the consequences of an untreated injury.
"Mm'kay Captain, but just so you're aware an untreated wound will only mean more doctor's visits." You commented with a fox-like smile.
Unimpressed.
Price responded with a low hum of acknowledgment as he averted his attention from you. You guess that the idea of being in your presence was less egregious than you predicted. Or maybe he just didn't care to bother with your theatrics, which was the more plausible explanation.
*
2 more days had passed when everyone had seemed to return to the swing of things. Though still restricted in their abilities, now was the time to talk strategy in a mundane routine of meetings. Some of which you weren't required to attend as they pertained to the personal performance of the other soldiers. And though the idea of peaking in while Price grilled his subordinates was appealing, there was work to be done in the infirmary.
The time seemed to pass slower the more you looked at the clock. Eventually, 1:39 became 1:50, which became 1:58, and then 2:03 until you decided your frequent glances only seemed to put some sort of curse on the damned thing. You were brought out of your self-induced frustration by a knock at your office door that connected to the infirmary.
"Come in." You said before seeing an army green hat fill the windowed slot of the door. "Captain! I'm really hoping you aren't here to tell me I was right because I am not afraid to tell you 'I told you so-oh-'" Your eyes widened at the sight of your superior walking through the office door with an obvious limp that caused him to clutch the handle of the door, his gaze trained to the ground as he spoke.
"Yeah, yeah. We can get the whole squad in on a celebration after you fix this damn leg-!" He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth after mistakenly applying pressure to his right leg, which now showed a visible blood stain.
You moved quickly to place yourself under his shoulder. Moving your hand to grab at his side and the other to hold his arm as you supported the part of his weight that he couldn't bear. He then laid on a wheeled bed with a long sigh and taut eyebrows that drew together from the pain.
You looked at him with a regretful expression. A silent apology for the mocking mixed with a tinge of disappointment that he was in this situation to begin with. A situation which you had predicted, and given his avoidant attitude, told you that this injury didn't happen on base. You began to roll the stiff cargo of his pants up. Doing your best to be gentle as possible while fighting the adrenaline that told you this wasn't going to be good. The now rolled-up hem of his pant leg began to expose the bleeding wound, the touch of the material eliciting a searing hiss from the man below you.
"Shit, Cap'." You whispered. To call it a gash would be an understatement. What may have once been a gash was now a raised laceration that had become inflamed. You donned your surgical gloves before placing a tender hand to the reddened lump on his leg. Price bit his cheek at the pain as a yellow-like fluid began to leave the wound. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?" You questioned, the disappointed gaze returning to your eyes.
"S' just a flesh wound." He dismissed with a wave of his hand.
"An infected one... you aren't as dumb and dense as all that so I figure you were just too stubborn." You turned to gather your supplies to dress and disinfect the area when you realized his wound looked too gnarly to have only developed in 3 days. "Captain, what happened on the field? Whatever caused this would have caught your attention sooner." You knew the most likely explanation for the worsened state of the wound was, but to hear it from the horse's mouth would give you confidence in your treatment as well as a chance for him to feel guilty about not approaching you sooner.
He sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "To tell ya' the truth I didn't notice it at first. Just a sharp pain n' a scratch." He glanced at you before returning his line of sight to his leg. "It was right after the explosion. The one that sent the debris towards me n' Soap. He was bleedin' real bad and by the time I got him to you the heli was comin' in. Forgot about it is all...till now."
You returned to the marred limb, gauze placed in both palms of your gloved hands. "It's most likely shrapnel lodged below the skin. I'm going to drain the abscess and remove it, okay? You want something to hold onto?"
Price chuckled, "No love, I don't think a styrofoam 'stress ball' will help either of us, yeah?"
So stubborn... You leaned in to drain the wound of the puss and blood that now seeped down his calf. Apart from the initial jolt of pain and the strained muscles of his hands on the railing that caused his veins to take a defined shape, Price remained relatively still. You used forceps to remove what you discovered was a bomb fragment from his leg and applied saline solution followed by sterile gauze.
The fragment itself was maybe no longer than an inch, making it a bitch to have it pulled out of one's body. Regardless, having any foreign object pulled out of the body wouldn't be a blast.
You turned back to your superior, an animated smirk on your face in an attempt to revive the now solemn mood. "All right! You've been a good boy Captain. Let me get you a sucker and some gauze for you to dress it with later. Of course, I would offer to do it myself but you'd probably prefer to deal with it on your own." Your tone was light but Price still disregarded your observation. "And some antibiotics. Twice a day for a week." You placed the bandages and supplies beside him and turned to return your instruments to their cabinet.
A hushed "Thanks" was all you heard before turning to see that the injured soldier had left the infirmary.
*
Another long day of being planted in your office went by. Price's injury report was added to the list of paperwork that piled on your desk. Begging to be completed or nonetheless, acknowledged. As you were going to return to your office from checking on Soap you noticed the gauze that laid on the bedding Price occupied. Which also reminded you to add the changing of those sheets to your to-do list.
The time was past 11 o'clock pm already. He was sure to be in his room. You exhaled a breath of irritation. Not only will he not help himself, he won't ask you (the professional) for any either. You grabbed at the bandages and began to march to his room.
When you reached the door of his living quarters you lifted your hand to knock but hesitated. He ought to learn the consequences of not taking care of himself. Or listening to medical advice. You thought, but quickly dismissed the idea of abandonment. You were only six inches away from the door and saw the orange tinted light that shone from the bottom crack of the entrance. With a lid of ignorance placed on the bubbling nervousness in the pit of your stomach, you planted a quick but low knock to the door. That was an awful knock... There's no way he heard it. Or maybe he's asleep. You waited a few moments before raising your fist to knock again when the door opened.
Behind the door stood Price in a black cotton shirt and long pajama pants. His face wore a quizzical expression before eyeing you up and down and groaning at the sight of the gauze.
"It's nearly midnight," He spoke in a low, sleep glazed tone. "You planning on haunting me in my dreams too? I can't do with more nightmares, love."
A quick flush spread on your face before replying, "I think that would be called a dream, Cap'. Plus I saw the light on so don't act so exhausted."
"S' just my nightlight." He said with a blank face.
The crickets that chirped outside the base suddenly became deafening as a silence settled between the two of you. Before you could properly react he interjected, "M' joking... you gonna come in?"
A smile spread across your face as you entered his room. You would have never made fun of him for actually having a nightlight. You're sure it could provide comfort to anyone, especially the scarred soldiers of 141 who typically kept to themselves. It was good, however, to see that his funny bone remained undamaged.
"Okay well, you know the drill. Get on the bed soldier." The phrase suddenly sounded more on the nose than intended. If Price had noticed your somewhat suggestive choice of wording, he didn't make it apparent and did as he was instructed. As he crossed the floor you took in the scene of his room. Relatively clean. Actually, really clean, and not much decorating the walls apart from some photos and a few select 80's band posters. On his desk sat a lamp that lit the room a soft but not overbearing orange that allowed for the shadows of the room to make their home for the night. Next to the lamp were his dog tags and a notebook with a pencil sticking out of the bottom acting as a bookmark. Hopefully I didn't interrupt him.
Price cleared his throat from across the room. "You planning on snooping some more or are you gonna get t' work?"
You scoffed before placing yourself on the floor next to his cot. Price sat on the edge, his leg propped up and pant leg already hiked to his knee.
"You know you're very presumptuous Captain. Not even a please." You placed his leg in your lap before removing the bandages from his leg. "I'm not your personal nurse, and if I didn't know any better I'd think you planned this from the start." You teased.
"Yer' delusional love." Love "You caught me, I got a piece of bomb caught in my leg so I could hear ya' talk nonsense for an hour." He finished with a light laugh.
You both fell into light conversation as you worked to dress his leg. You frequently cast your eyes up to look at the man above you. The light of the lamp mixing with your iris, creating a new hue that Price began to familiarize himself with.
Before you could finish, you noticed Price reach his hand behind his neck to massage at the muscle with a strained expression.
"I'm gonna get you something." You began.
"I don't need anything."
You paused before looking at him, the playful impression on your face replaced with a more meaningful one. "I'm getting you something."
With that, you got up and hurried to the infirmary to retrieve a pain reliever. You returned with the pill and a bottle of water that he gratefully accepted from you. You took your place back on the ground beside his cot so you could finish your work on his bandage when you looked back up at him, "You think you’d be better on your feet considering how much you tiptoe around me." You tsk'd. "Could've avoided all this mess."
It was Price's turn to flush at the comment when he shook his head. "I don't 'tiptoe'."
"Oh. You tiptoe."
"I just try t' stay out of your way," He said, turning his head to the side to face away from you. "Maybe I'm just not a fan of doctors." He quipped, a smile plastering on his face.
You didn't believe that for one bit.
"Besides. I'm glad I didn't avoid it."
You finished your work when you craned your head to look up at him, his eyes already peering at you. You had always had pleasant conversation with Price, a consistent banter that seemed to dwindle in recent weeks. Thus, making you question his enjoyment of your easy-going friendship. As you locked eyes a new emotion appeared in his gaze. It wasn't annoyance, or anger, or any form of irritation, and it undoubtedly wasn't playful. At least from your interpretation.
He haunched his elbows on his knees as he leaned into the now diminishing space between you two, eyes scattering to explore the features of your face.
"Never noticed that." He spoke in a near whisper. Price raised a hand to brush his fingers against a scar that ran above your eyebrow.
You reached to feel at the now faded lance, your hand brushing against his own. "I hardly remembered I had it."
The proximity between you two encouraged thoughts you hadn't had the luxury to divulge yourself into for some time. It wasn't professional to cross such a boundary, especially with Captain Price. But until now, they had only been short-lived fantasies just out of reach.
Price wrapped his fingers between yours, joining your hands as his other came to reach for your cheek. You were sure of that look on his face now. It was want. Which now verged on the crest of need.
"Price..." You spoke.
You didn't want to be arrogant in assuming Price enjoyed this intimacy as much as you did. He was the one to initiate it, however, you knew that. So if he didn't mind crossing a few boundaries you weren't going to stop him. Both of his hands now cradled the sides of your face as you roamed your own to the inner part of his thighs above his knee.
Price sucked in a breath, he wasn't even sure if you reciprocated his feelings until a few minutes ago and now he felt like he was at major risk of complicating things between you two. Before he could morally battle with himself you brought your lips to his for a soft and testing kiss. A grin extended to his face as he deepened the kiss, his hands roaming to find home at the nape of your neck and into your hair. The stubble that covered the lower expanse of his face was sharp against your skin. His plush lips provided a nice contrast as the kiss became more fervent and you rushed to push off your lab coat. Your shoes having been discarded long ago as you made yourself comfortable in the private space of your Captain's room.
"Oi, let's get rid of this too hm?" You stood to remove your shirt with the help of Price's urgent hands who then worked the button of your pants undone till you were left in nothing but a bra and underwear. You were in a near bare state while Price remained in his pajamas. The only evidence of promiscuity being his red stained lips and the half-hard erection in his pants.
"This isn't very fair Captain." You laughed nervously while placing your arms over your body.
Price grabbed at your arms, pulling them from the skin they hid. "Nah none of that. Too beautiful not to let me see." You let your arms fall as he reached to remove his shirt which was then added to the pile of other "unnecessaries" behind you.
"You consider that even playing ground?" You ridiculed. But Price ignored the comment before pulling you to his lap. Thighs now straddling his hips as he began his assault of red love marks against your neck.
"Mmm what was that?" He questioned through muffled lips. The bra was next to be removed. Becoming too frantic to feel his touch, you wanted to provide whatever expanse of skin you had to him. Let him do what he wanted. And he gratefully accepted. His mouth latched to the bud of your hardening nipple while his palm moved to the swell of your breast. A soft moan left your lips at the sensation. His mouth lapped and circled the bud while his fingers twisted and pulled at its counterpart, sending a rush of heat between your thighs.
You ground against Price's lap to find that his erection had become rock solid. The man below you let out a groan as he toyed with your chest. Your hips moved back and forth to provide friction for both of you. The tip of his cock now rocked against your clothed clit, sending your head flying backward and your mouth agape. Price watched your face, his eyelids hanging low from the drunken euphoria you were granting him.
"S-so good" You stuttered. The pleasure was near drowning when the hand that laid on your chest disconnected. Leaving it cold until Price moved to focus the attention of his mouth where his hand once was. He rutted his hips up into your fabric covered core, allowing for his growled noises of pleasure to settle in your ears. His licks against your breast soon became bites that left an imprint of his canines against your skin. He then sucked at the reddened mark to ease the pain, alternating between sinking his teeth into you and pulling your nipple into his mouth. The pleasure was soon heightened by his hand moving to trace at your cunt. The fabric of which was now wet from what once was "dry" humping.
His fingers traced at your clit providing a sensation that left you shuttering above him but in need of more. Which he soon provided as the fabric of your panties was moved to the side to allow him access to your flesh. "I shoulda' taken you sooner" He breathed as his hand delved into your wanting heat. Gathering your slick with two fingers to then massage back into your bundle of nerves. A string of whimpers began to leave your mouth as his pace oscillated from quickened strokes to torturously slow. "Tell me what you need, love."
Your head was hot. You didn't think you could form words if you wanted to. His touch being the only thing your mind could wrap around as your desperate whines began to amplify. "I know sweetheart, but try your best."
You swallowed the pool of saliva that settled on your tongue. "More. Please Captain, I-I need it."
Price grunted at the use of his rank, knowing that he wouldn't be able to think of anything but this moment the next time someone addressed him. He complied to your wishes by taking one of his slick covered fingers and pushing it into your walls. Roaming the hot smooth flesh of your insides while he searched for the sensitive patch of nerves inside.
"You're swallowing me, love" Price watched as your body took in his finger, your pussy keeping him in a vice-like grip that made him groan at the feeling, only being able to imagine his cock disappearing between your legs in place of his hand. He needed to work you open though. Make you ready for him. He soon added in a second finger, glancing up at you to watch your face pinch together from the stretch.
With the help of his second finger, he was able to find the exact spot he was looking for as he thrusted the digits into you, eliciting a blatant moan from you. His fingers scissored into you, now working to stretch you open as he curled in and out of your cunt.
"You think you're ready for me, or do you want to keep feeling my fingers in you?"
Your eyes met his as you fervidly nodded your head. "Need you."
It was your turn to take control. Pushing him back to lie on the bed you reminded him of the importance of recovery.
"You should do your best to avoid any strain, Captain." You saddled yourself above his aching cock, his length fighting against the fabric of his pajama pants and boxers that restrained him. "I wouldn't mind taking the reigns for you."
You leaned in for another passionate kiss, your tongues exploring one another's mouth as you both maneuvered to remove his bottoms. "Me neither, love."
He watched you admire his length with a smirk. The size almost made you wish he worked his fingers in you a bit longer if it weren't for the insatiable hunger you had for all of him to be in you. You assumed your position above him, letting him place his hands on your thighs which soon reached to grab at the flesh of your ass. You took his cock in your hands to spread between your folds. Gathering your slick to act as a lubricant before lowering yourself down him. You heard his breath shudder as his head breached your sex. The stretch was more than you could imagine and caused your cunt to burn as you slowed your descent on him.
"Take your time, sweetheart-!" Price grit his teeth at the torment your tight pussy was putting him through. He wanted to be patient and allow you to take your time but his desire was reaching its pique. He needed you just as badly if not more then he was leading on. The hands on your hips helped guide you down his shaft.
"Fuck, Price!" You softly cried, only being halfway down his length. Just as the stretch began to subside, Price dug his heels into the bed to thrust into you, causing you both to moan at the sudden pleasure. Your breathing picked up as you began to bounce on him, his hips pushing up into your cunt as you timed your rhythm to meet with him. Your hands came to wrest on Price's wrist as he watched your sex devour his soaked cock. Taking it in its entirety as he rutted into your g-spot.
You continued to ride his length. The pain was far from gone and only replaced with a feeling of your nerves being kickstarted. The fiery feeling spread through your arms and legs as you quickened your pace.
Price felt you clench around him and let out a whimper of pleasure. His hand moved from your hip to place his thumb on your neglected clit. He circled the slick bud, causing stars to blur your vision. He strengthened the thrust of his hips as your orgasm made its approach. Your legs shaking while the grip you had on one of his wrists was sure to leave a bruise.
"Let it out, love" Price encouraged in a thick glazed tone. "Cum for me darling, please." He struggled to keep himself composed as your cunt spasmed around him. A desperate moan left your lips as you ground against his pelvis to ride out your high. The nerves in your limbs fired off like sparks as Price let out a final grunt, filling you with his hot seed.
You rose off of him as your pussy elicited a wet vulgar sound before you collapsed next to him, his arm resting underneath your head as he placed his hand to your face. He let out a sigh as he placed his lips to yours once again. A tender kiss that told you a sincere thank you for caring for him as well as a message of his endearment to you. You smiled into the kiss before he separated to grab a rag to clean you both up with.
He returned and placed himself between your spread legs, using gentle strokes to clean up the mess he made. He apologized for finishing in you but was met with a dismissive hand from you. Clarifying to him that you were on birth control provided by the modern advancements in technology.
He smiled before cleaning himself off and coming to lay beside you.
"You know," he began "I think next time you should wear those gloves of yours."
You laughed at his out of left-field suggestion. "I try to keep work and play separate, actually"
"Pshht hardly!" He replied before falling into a fit of laughter. You rolled your eyes before slapping him against the arm. "Well at least not anymore..." He finished with a glance to the wall.
"Guess I'll just have to make more visits to the doctor then." He suggested before you drifted to sleep in his arms, knowing you'd have to plan a clean escape in the morning.
Touch starved Simon who rarely likes to give up control but is just so addicted to how good you can make him feel. The soldier who is quiet more often than not until he is underneath your fingertips and begging for you, for more of your touch. He was never one for words but his mewls and sounds of attention only make his begging face that more addictive. Edging him for what would feel like hours to him when in reality it had only been 20 minutes.
"Please please please please..." an endless mantra that coincided with his jutting hips that sought the warmth of your soft palms against his slick and aching length. Grunts and heavy breaths make their frequent appearance when your near burning tongue enters the mixture of torture you set on him. Sucking at the sensitive head of his cock and struggling to take much past that.
You weren't raised a quitter though. Simon's pleasure drunk state that was caused just by your hands and part of your hot mouth alone only spurred you on. The more you lowered yourself down him, the harder he screwed his eyes shut. An occasional gag leaving your dick filled throat as tears now ran down both of your faces. Simon's being from the agonous pleasure filling his senses, yours being from the struggle of keeping all of him down your esophagus. But you wouldn't have it any other way.
Simon had a clear view of your head bobbing up and down his length while you flashed your glossy eyes at him, occasionally closing them to focus on the task at hand. It wasn't until his 5th, "Can I cum? It feels too good, I need to baby." that you finally had mercy on him and quickened the already rapid pace at which you jerked him off. A string of gritted swears left him as he threw his head forward and came into your open mouth, a dark shade of red washing over his features as you swallowed his seed and went back to clean up the mess between his legs. He jolted his legs at the sensitivity but allowed you to continue only because you looked so needy to stay attached to him.
When you finally separated from him he was still trying to calm his accelerated heartbeat with harsh breaths through his nose. His hooded eyes lifted to meet yours when you gave him a soft smile and kissed his forehead. He would soon be further pampered with a cold beverage and a hot shower to relax the nerves you had just lit on fire.
a/n: so i haven’t written fanfiction in a whiiille and i don’t expect this to be great but i want to start somewhere. i heavily encourage constructive criticism and feedback!
Word count: 1,464
Read here on ao3!
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Ghost is someone who wants security. The vulnerability it takes and the safety that such intimacy like this provides, allows him to revel in this shared moment for as long as he desires.
That's why he takes his time with you. Degradation is something not suited for him, especially regarding this activity. You trusting him to this extent is something he could only dream of, regardless of those being a rare commodity for him. The gratuitous praise of sweet words lingers in the air like the wind from an open window on a humid day. This, however, enveloping you to a mind-clouding extent rather than just the surface of your skin. Your own insecurity getting in the way when your body subconsciously tries to conceal itself from the softened tower of a man atop you.
“Let me make you feel good. Let me thank you”
You are his rock. The one he trusts most to give his most vulnerable moments to. Whether that be from the aftershock of returning from a threateningly disastrous mission, sharing even the insecurities he has trouble not voicing to himself, or the moments like this where he has missed you so terribly he tries to weld you into his skin. He has more than enough to be thankful for when it comes to you. Like the wild daisies that grow from the foundation of abandoned and nearly dilapidated homes he finds when on duty.
You are the pink on his callouses and you stain a similar shade of rose against his semi cloth-concealed face. You are the good he has learned to find in the bad he thinks himself to be.
He raises his balaclava to display his lips and what is now closer to a 5-week shadow covering the lower half of his face. The sensation of his stubble only adds to the pleasure of the cherry-colored spots he leaves along your body. Sometimes, more so blackberry tinted.
As he traverses down the mountains and curves, the valleys and peaks of your body, he finally reaches your wanting heat. His butterfly white lashes open to give an almost pleading look, one that asks a question. Not being able to contain the unbridled lust no one but him can invoke, you buck your hips toward his touch and he lowers himself with a pleased hum till he is nestled in your thighs. A home he wished to return to as soon as possible anytime he was away.
“Please don’t tease Simon” Relinquishing his call sign you near but beg for him, hoping he doesn’t hear the needy break in your voice.
He doesn't see this as teasing though. Only making a moment he would never take for granted, last while.
"Patience comes with its rewards." He taunts.
Simon reaches his left arm under your leg to come up and rest on your lower stomach. As he lets his eyes drink in the display that is you before him, naked and red with wanton need, he brings his right hand to stroke between your folds. Moving upward as he gathers your slick and massages slow circles onto your neglected clit. “You’re so good to me sweetheart” he voices in a deep, molasses-coated tone. His ministrations remained at a tantalizing pace. One that kept you on the verge of stagnant pleasure.
A heightened gasp left your throat in response to the mess he was making with just his three fingers that laid on your bundle of nerves, moving back and forth and massaging said bundle between his digits. His speed picks up and the only thing you can think of is how only he can make you feel this way. And he is never in jeopardy of forgetting to remind you. A heat begins to form in your chest that carries to your ribs and limbs. The nerves that occupy your fingers being lit ablaze with accompanying rapid breaths that feed in the air around you in an attempt to blow out the flame. Simon picks up on your heavy and quickened breaths. The desire induced fantasies he procured of you to satiate a certain hunger of his while in the field didn’t fill up his head like the sounds you made now could.
Before you could register the gleam of anticipated regret in his eyes he removes his hand. “My god-!” you exclaim. Before you can beg his name the hand resting on top of your stomach moves to allow for his thumb to continue his previous work. His thumb now encircling your clit with less urgency than his dominant hand could provide, though still moving at a more than gratifying pace. “Just wait for me sweet girl” he breathed.
A new sensation was felt where he teased and traced around your entrance. Feeling how your hole clenched at nothing but the idea of him, any part of him, to be inside you.
“Who am I to keep you waiting?” he questioned before sinking his middle and ring finger deep into your cunt.
A moan escaped your lips as you wrapped around his fingers. “Fuck, just look at you.” The whimpers that left your mouth as he stroked along your walls began to compete with the squelch of your pussy as Simon continued to finger you. His digits slowly entered you to meet the perfect spot in your cunt that Simon had already memorized. Making sure to burn the most wanting parts of your body into his brain like a cd he listened to on repeat.
“Do you want another one?” he asked suggestively before lifting his stone-heavy eyelids to meet your gaze. His two fingers already worked perfectly inside of you but Simon always took more of a hands-on approach, especially when it came to you. The moan you let out was enough of a response for him as he rutted his finger into your walls against your g-spot. “I know sweet girl. You take it so well”
He had now worked in an additional finger that was soon found in the pulse grip you had his previous appendages in. A shaky moan leaves him before reconnecting his gaze with your own. Simon's pupils are blown and he thinks he just learned it was possible for a human to experience this much bliss. The pride he found in being able to make you feel good was unmatched to anything he had felt before.
“Don’t stop Simon!” you beg at him.
He pinches his eyebrows together and gives you a breathless smirk. “You know me better than that.”
Rather than quitting, Simon replaces his thumb on your clit with a languid stroke from his tongue. “You missed this too, yeah?” You jump from the sudden contact and can’t help but squirm under his perfect touch. His suctioning tongue works in tandem with his fingers that provide long and fervid strokes into your drenched cunt.
This is cloud nine for Simon. It’s all he needs. The reactions your body gives his own don't go unnoticed by his own senses when he begins to rut into the bed beneath him. “Because I missed this so much” Simon lets out shaky moans between your lips followed by a pleading of your name when the summit of your pleasure begins to approach.
“I missed this too baby. I missed you so much.” you say as you throw your head back and reach for the back of his head.
Simon continues to lap at you and groans into your sex, the added vibration sending your jaw falling open and a noiseless ‘o’ to form on your face. Your back arches as your legs begin to spasm around the soldier's head and a similar fire from earlier sets your nerves ablaze. Making its way throughout your body and stationing itself in the lower pit of your stomach.
With a final moan from a breathless Simon, his hips stutter into the comforter below as the muscles in his back begin to tense, taking him to his own summit of pleasure. He sucks at your clit with a hard passion as he helps ride out the both of your orgasms. He pulls away with a string of saliva connecting his chin to your pussy. Both of your wrecked states being proof of such a passionate and profane act.
You look up at him with an exhausted but content smile. That rose stain returns to his cheeks as he tries to cover the spot on the bed he made a mess of. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while-" he begins, but is cut off by your soft hush and loving gaze. He has no reason to be embarrassed, especially since you know it means for an eager chance at redemption from the masked man that is later to come.
