Sabina (INFP/ISFJ)
She/Her, 32y/o, Gamer, Writer
Multi-fandom blog so expect:
Assassin's Creed, CoD, Dragon Age, HP, PotC, BG3 etc.
"Currently" in love with:
Cpt. John Price,
Ben Barnes,
Crawford Starrick,
*!Dreamcountess is the best of friends!*
PS. There might be NSFW so proceed with caution.
(was MsNevermiind)
…happened on my “off week” when I had to focus on another project, but it felt wrong not to go through the prompts once I had the time, so here’s a compilation of all 7 days✨🤍✨
It’s been some time since my last post and there’s been a few more additions to my Emmrook collection, both personal and for friends and lovely Fade members✨🤍✨
Some of these Rooks belong to @sofiemystique , @palenecromaniac , @emmg and a shared son with @andthekitchensinkao3 🤍🤍🤍
Thought I make a master post with all my Emmrook sketches so far for all the lovely new followers, but turns out I can only include 30 images and I have way more than that :’D
edit: I got flagged so I removed all explicit content, so… those can be checked on Patreon🤍
• summary – you and price meet up off base. you fuck lol.
• rating – 18+ [mdni]
• wordcount – 4.6k
• warnings – fem!reader, praise kink, breeding kink [i'm being so fr it's in bold], unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], price is a whore for you <3, strong language
(let me know if i missed any warnings! ok hope you like <3)
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You had been off base for all of four hours.
It was supposed to be a weekend away from your colleagues and the cutthroat environment of a military job. You planned on enjoying a peaceful couple of days with the company of excessive amounts of alcohol, a spa, and that one situationship you had been dealing with for the past year.
So now, before your holiday even begun, you were already regretting even leaving.
You sat in a quaint little bar: complete with all the bells and whistles to make it seem like a 1920’s speakeasy. The light was dim, settling the room in a golden ambiance, as people conversed with each other, nursing crystal tumblers of dark liquor or caressing the thin neck of martini glasses.
You reclined into the plush leather sofa beneath you, a glass of— as the familiar bartender described it— your usual in your hand. You swirled it around your glass, watching the liquid slosh against the sides as your “situationship” rambled on about something (you had stopped paying attention five minutes ago).
“I mean, he drove to work in a Porsche and I drove a Jaguar,” Max downed the rest of his beer. “I think we both know who has the superior taste in cars, don’t we?”
“Mhm…” you hummed, taking a sip of your drink.
Max had never been the most interesting person— hell, he was actually really fucking annoying. His only redeeming quality was that you could fuck him and not feel guilty about leaving the next morning. Convenience, really.
Max peered at you over the rim of his pint glass, cocking his head to the side as he placed it back onto the table. “Something on you mind?” He asked, sounding genuinely worried.
You looked up at him, slightly startled. “Oh, no, sorry. It’s just been a long day—”
“Okay, great, now can I finish my story?”
You blinked at him as he continued, rambling on with no real punchline to his story— he was just trying to make himself seem richer. At this point, you were cringing. Embarrassing.
After a while of putting up with… whatever the hell Max was even talking about, you excused yourself. You popped to the bathroom, drawing out the process of washing your hands by a good five minutes, before reluctantly exiting the bathroom.
You collided with a wall.
Well, it wasn’t a wall. The wall was a man.
The body you crashed into immediately steadied you: two strong arms wrapping around your upper body, pressing you gently to a taut abdomen. You gasped out as the wall, smelling strongly of bergamot orange and whiskey, settled your firmly on your feet and held you within arms reach. Large hands gripped your shoulders, completely enveloping them.
You screwed your eyes shut, waiting for a drunken insult of some kind. “Shit, I am so sorry—!”
“Sergeant?”
You looked up, locking eyes with your captain. Captain John Price, the man responsable for leading your taskforce.
“Captain? I… I am so sorry.” You rambled, taking a step out of his reach and fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt. “I wasn’t looking where I was going—”
He laughed, deep and melodic. “S’all right, love. You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh, none of that crap,” he smiled, nudging you softly. “John’s fine. Or Price, if you really prefer it.”
You nodded, hiding a small smile. “Alright, Price.”
Price looked you up and down, taking in your attire and the way you had dolled yourself up. He let a small smile fall onto his lips as he leaned back against the standing-table he was situated at, elbow across it.
“Who’s got you dressed all nice, love?”
You rolled your eyes. “I was meant to be on a date, but it isn’t going well at all.”
His smile faded. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing major,” you said with a shrug. “Just an old… friend. He loves to talk about himself, and he hasn’t asked about what I’ve been up to since I got here.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Two hours.”
Price let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly. “Sounds like a right arsehole, that one. Why don’t you just head on home?”
“I’d feel guilty—”
“You kill people for a living, sergeant,” Price quipped, grabbing his whiskey tumbler and raising it to his lips. “I doubt you’d feel guilty about leaving this tosser.”
You watched him take a sip of his drink, licking the liquor off his lips as he placed the tumbler back down. You sighed, realising that he was probably right, before squaring your shoulders and setting a determined look on your face. Price laughed at your expression.
“I’ll tell him I’m leaving.” You said.
Price chuckled, giving you a wink. “You go do that, love.”
You left Price and crossed the bar, to where Max was sitting on the couch, smiling at his phone. He was typing fast, and didn’t even look up when you cleared your throat to get his attention, now standing just a few feet from him.
“I’m leaving,” you said simply. “Thanks for… the company, I guess.”
Max looked up, shutting his phone off and shoving it into his pocket as he got to his feet. “Are we not gonna fuck?”
The words leaving his mouth sounded horrid, and you withheld a grimace at his desperate tone. You shook your head, “No, we’re not.”
He scoffed. “So this has been a complete waste of time, then?”
You stared at him, dumbfounded as he shoved past you and vanished out the door. He left you with the bill and, not only that, but he was your ride— and you heard the unmistakable sound of his Jaguar revving it’s engine and tearing off down the street.
You blinked, dumbfounded, at the door, trying not to let the stinging of embarrassed tears fall from behind your eyes. With a frustrated sigh, you were about to head to the bar and pay when Price stopped you, walking into your path.
“Come on, love. I’ll take you home.”
You shook your head adamantly. “Price, no, I’ve gotta pay—”
“I’ll put it on my tab,” he said simply. “Now, come on. I’ll take you home since that fuckwit wants to leave a lady stranded here.”
He ushered you gently out the door, a large, warm hand on your lower back. He didn’t let you protest: he just simply guided you out into the chilly night air. His body heat was warm against your back as he led you towards his car. His smell was intoxicating. You had the sudden urge to just whirl around and rub yourself all over him, collecting his scent like a cat.
Um, what the fuck— suddenly crossed your mind.
When you both reached his car, he opened the passenger door for you and allowed you to slide into the seat, before closing it and moving to the other side, clambering into the driver seat and slotting the key into the ignition, the car rumbling to life.
Once out onto the main road, he cast you a quick glance, both hands on the wheel, running his thumbs along the seam of the wheel’s curve. “We’re you staying?”
You gave him your address, and he raised a brow. “A penthouse suite, eh? We are clearly not being paid the same.”
You laughed, warm in his car. You smelt that same scent of bergamot citrus and whiskey floating through the car. It was tainted with cigar smoke and mint. You wanted to get the smell tattooed into your fucking brain.
The drive to your flat was comfortable. You talked with Price as though he was an old friend and not your boss. He seemed to enjoy your company, too: sparing subtly glances in your direction whenever you laughed, or whenever you got particularly excited when telling him a story. His eyes twinkled.
A few minutes later, Price had pulled up outside your building, killing the engine and hopping out of the car. You went to protest, but he moved and opened your door, beckoning you outside with a small wave of his hand.
“I’ll be walking you to your door, sergeant,” Price said, almost sternly. “I’m a man of my word. I said I’d take you home, so I will.”
Ignoring the heat in your cheeks, you allowed him to gently lead you across the foyer and into the lift. You hit your floor level and as the doors closed, you suddenly became aware of how close you and Price were to one another. You could feel his body heat. You could feel the gentle brush of his chest against your back every time he breathed.
Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol coursing through your veins, but you suddenly felt hot. Like, underwear getting wet kinda hot. In the corner of the lift, you shifted your legs, pressing your thighs together as the lift travelled upwards.
No way you’re horny right now, you thought as the lift doors opened.
You were quick to depart, hurrying down the hall and reaching your door in record speed, fumbling to get the keys out of your purse. You felt Price sidle up behind you. When you finally got the door open, you pushed it and stepped into the doorway, flicking the light on before turning and looking up at Price.
“Thank you so much for bringing me home,” you said sincerely. “And I am genuinely sorry if I ruined your night.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You didn’t ruin my night. I’m always here if you need me, love.”
You bit your lip. The way he said that was way to hot for the way you were feeling right now. You could feel the flush creeping up your neck, and it seemed that Price took notice.
He cocked his head to the side, appraising you. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, reaching a hand out and placing it heavily on your arm. It was a solid form that was warm and strong and you had a sudden urge to just bite it.
What the fuck.
“Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You said. Liar.
Price raised a brow, looking at the way you squirmed under his gaze. Now, he wasn’t stupid by any means— he could read your body language like a book and it made a triumphant smile flicker across his face.
He shifted the hand on your arm and dragged it to your chin, gripping it carefully and lifting it, forcing you to look up at him.
“What do you want, love?”
You blinked at him.
He tutted. “Don’t get shy on me now, sergeant. Tell me what you want. What’s getting you all worked up, huh?” He stroked your jaw, your cheek, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You like the way I talk to you? You like when I call you love?”
You let out a quiet whimper, nodding. He smiled down at you, leaning in as though he was about to kiss you. But he stopped, mint and whiskey laced breath fanning across your face.
“Use your words when you speak to your captain.”
You swallowed. “Yes.”
“Yes…?”
“Yes, sir.”
He hummed, pleased. “That’s a good girl.” And then pressed his mouth to yours. It was possessive— his tongue breached past your lips, plunging desperately into your mouth as you tried to keep up. You wound your arms around his broad shoulders, sliding fingers into his hair and gripping the strands. He groaned into your mouth, pushing you further into your flat without breaking the kiss.
He slammed the door shut and locked it blindly, opting to move you around and slam your body up against it. He cupped your jaw with one hand, shifting his other to run down your side, brushing over your hip and settling on your upper thigh. He squeezed it as he slid one leg between yours, jutting his knee upwards and pressing it against your clothed core.
You let out a strangled whimper, choking on the possessive nature of the kiss as Price pressed your body against his knee, using the hand at your hip to help you move against it. You stuttered on a moan, breaking the kiss to take some short breaths, the pressure on your core alleviating the building sensations.
“This what you want?” Price grinned against your jawline, placing kisses there. “You want me to make you feel good, love?”
You nodded desperately, moaning out a pathetic “yes, sir,” before he was whirling you around and guiding you deeper into your flat. He eventually found your bedroom, and pushed you onto the bed. Your back hit the silken sheets, and he wasted no time in following you; pressing his body to yours and immediately reattaching his mouth to yours hungrily.
As the two of you kissed, he gently began to pry your clothes from your body. He slipped your shirt off, making quick work in popping off your bra. He moved down, planting kisses along your chest and across the swell of your breasts. He then drew his tongue, hot, over your right nipple before taking it into his mouth. You moaned loudly, huskily, gripping at his hair as he sucked. He moved to your left one, and repeated the process until you were a whimpering, needy mess beneath him.
After a moment, he leaned back and admired the hickeys he had created over your soft skin, running calloused fingers over them.
“This okay, love?”
You nodded, reaching up and looping your fingers around his belt. “Yes, sir.” You whined, finally managing to undo the buckle on his belt.
But he stopped you, gently pushing your hands above your head before he dipped down and kissed you again. The way he licked into your mouth made you squirm, fingers flexing beneath his strong grip. He released your arms, running his hands along the bare skin and all the way past your shoulders, over your breasts and along your sides.
His eyes never left yours as he popped the button on your pants, pulling them down your legs and throwing them across the room. When the cool air of your room hit, you realised just how wet you were— favourite pair of underwear, soaked through. Your face lit up in embarrassment as you felt Price’s eyes drift down your body.
“S’all for me?” Price uttered, finger skimming the edge of your underwear. He hooked his finger beneath it and let it go with a snap against the plush fat of your thigh.
You felt hot all over when you mumbled out a “yeah.”
“Yeah?” He pulled your underwear down your legs, dragging his hands heavily along your skin alongside it. Like your pants, he flicked your underwear across the room. Then, his hands were on your thighs and in the blink of an eye, you were flipped over.
Price lay on his back, arms wrapped around your thighs. You straddled his chest, hands resting on his pecs. Your fingers brushed through his chest hair as he looked up at you, an expectant look on his face. Your stomach flipped.
“Price…” You whined.
“Sit on my face, love.”
You hesitantly shook your head. “I don’t want to hurt—”
“Come on, darling,” Price drawled, tugging you forward. “You won’t hurt me.”
You let out a stuttered sigh as your thighs rested either side of his head, and you slowly sank your aching cunt down onto his face. You huffed out a load moan when he licked a stripe up your folds, before plunging his tongue right into your dripping heat. You snatched at his head, pulling his hair as your hips shifted against him— his nose nudging your clit, his tongue drawing animalistic sounds from your mouth.
“Price—!”
“That’s a good girl,” Price uttered against your core. “Ride my face, love. Take what you need.” He had an iron grip on your thighs, helping you rock yourself against his mouth. “Such a pretty, wet cunt. Tastes so fucking good.”
You moaned at his words. Your captain speaking to you like that with his face drowning in your cunt. What the fuck—
“P-Price…” You breathed. “Gonna… gonna come.”
He moaned against your cunt— the vibrations making that coil in your stomach tighten. He squeezed your thighs, running his tongue up your folds and swirling it around your clit, repeating this action a few times.
You felt yourself drawing tight, a thin sheen of sweat gathering across your bare skin. “Price—”
“I know, darling, I know,” he said. “Come for me. Come in my mouth like a good girl, yeah?”
“Yeah, fuck, Price—!” You came with a moan of his name, gushing into his mouth as your hips stuttered against his face. You felt him groan beneath you, tongue working you through your orgasm.
After a long moment, Price re-surfaced— shifting you carefully onto your back and hovering over you. You smiled hazily at him, seeing his beard slick with you, shiny. He hummed, pressing his mouth to yours.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you, sergeant?” He said into your mouth.
You could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. You hummed a response, too busy stroking his facial hair, feeling your own arousal sticky on your fingers.
When Price pulled back, his lips were flushed and his dark eyes glassy. His eyes scanned your face.
“Price?” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone.
“You gonna let me fuck you?” He grumbled, deep and low from his chest. “Gonna let me fill this pretty cunt?”
Your eyes widened momentarily as he shifted his gaze down your body. You arched off the bed when his hands went back to travelling down your sides. He sat back on his heels, spreading your legs as wide as they could go, warm hands on your inner thighs.
He stared at your dripping core, and you watched him harden even more in his pants.
“Such a pretty cunt, eh, darling?” Price ran two fingers along your folds, collecting a shiny mix of your arousal and his saliva. He brought his fingers to your mouth and shoved them roughly passed your lips. “Tastes fucking heavenly, too.”
You choked on his fingers, moaning. Wrapping your tongue around them, you noticed his pupils dilate even more as he watched you.
“Jesus…” He pulled his fingers out, then began tracing them along your core again. He watched his fingertips slip between your folds, and then watched the way you writhed in anticipation each time his fingers skimmed your aching hole.
“Fuck, just— Price, please—” You warbled, body hot. You could feel your arousal leaking out of you, pooling below your arse on the bedsheets.
Price laughed lowly, before sinking two fingers into your desperate cunt, right up to the knuckle. You keened, a high-pitched moan filtering between your lips at the intrusion. His digits were thick, dragging against your gummy walls, stretching you open with obscene squelching noises.
He cooed at you as he added a third finger. “Take it, darling. Such a good girl taking all three, aren’t you? This pretty cunt’s so good for me. Just for me.”
You moaned and wiggled against the bed as he pumped three fingers inside you. You felt full, satiated. Your slick was dripping down his hand, his wrist and sliding into the hairs along his forearms.
“Making such a mess, and I haven’t even given you my cock yet…” Price drawled as you fluttered around his fingers, hips bucking.
“Price, sir, need you to fuck me.”
He didn’t relent the movements of his fingers, and you felt your second orgasm building strongly within you. He tutted, clucking his tongue as he thrusted his fingers into you. “Want you to come on my fingers first. You can do that, can’t you, love? Come all over my fingers before you can come on my cock.”
You whined, forcing yourself to nod and nod and nod as your orgasm towered over you, looming like a shadow. “F-fuck, m’gonna—”
The words died on your tongue as your orgasm ripped through you, a blinding pressure released from your abdomen. A wet gush of arousal flooded beneath you, and you felt it. As you shook, legs trembling, chest heaving, you heard Price chuckling to himself as he retracted his dripping fingers.
“Such a messy girl,” he mused. “Look what you’ve done.”
You used your remaining strength to look down at where he was— his shirt splattered with your arousal, wet dripping onto his lap. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Price prevented you from shying away. He dragged himself up your body and placed kisses as he went— ending his exploration by settling a deep kiss to your mouth.
“You gonna let me fuck you now? You deserve it, don’t you? Been such a good girl for me, letting me eat that pretty cunt.”
Such lewd words coming from your captain’s mouth— a man of such impressive status and honourability— was slightly disconcerting. However, you couldn’t find into yourself to care, nor think about the HR nightmare the two of you were in the midst of causing.
All you were focussing on was ripping open your tear-lined eyes and watching as the captain— your captain— shed himself of his dress shirt and then his pants. When he pulled down his boxers, you literally tossed your head back and moaned, much to the amusement of Price— who chuckled lowly at you, gripping his cock at the base.
“Want it that bad, darling?” He mused, leaning forward to run the head of his cock up and down your glistening folds.
“Yes, fuck—!”
“Ask nicely,” Price placed a couple of soft kisses along the underside of your jaw. “Good girl’s ask nicely, don’t they?”
You whined out some pathetic excuse for a please, lifting your arms to thread your fingers into his hair as he hovered over you. His body was heavy against you: the weight of his cock firm against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
Price lined himself up with your dripping cunt, slowly pushing in. He released a low groan from the depths of his chest as his cock slid into your tight heat, your cunt fluttering around him. You joined him, breathing out panting moans as he sunk deeper and deeper.
With one final push, Price’s cockhead was nestled up against the plug of your womb, pulsing within you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily.
“You feel… Jesus Christ— you feel so good, love. So tight around me,” his voice had a whiny undertone. “Can I move, darling?”
You nodded, full. It’s like you could feel him in your chest.
With a deep grunt, Price dragged his cock all the way out until the wet tip of him rested at your entrance— before he pushed back in roughly. You jolted, moaning as he set a pace that you hadn’t at all been expecting. You felt the need to be stabilised, your hands groping across his shoulders, down his back, along his arms. Your hands travelled down his torso, feeling the rigid planes of muscle and wiry hair.
Price panted in your ear. “Such a— fuck— such a good girl. Being such a good girl for your captain, darling. Making me— hngh— making me so proud.”
Your stomach and cunt fluttered simultaneously at the praise, eliciting a moan from both you and Price. He was truly fucking you into your bed: the mattress creaking along with the bed frame; the cushioned headboard knocking gently against the wall. Somewhere across your apartment, your radio was playing— you’d left it on before you left for the evening— and Breed by Nirvana was playing. Fitting for the occasion, considering—
“Fuck, gonna come in this tight fucking cunt,” Price groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna stuff you full ‘o me.”
You writhed beneath him, back arching off the bed and aching nipples brushing against his chest. You were getting close, judging by the way that familial coil was tightening in the depths of your belly. Tighter and tighter as he fucked his fat cock harder and harder into you, deeper and deeper against your cervix.
A thin sheen of sweat lay across your skin, glowing. Price didn’t care, clearly, as he peppered kisses across your chest, sucking bites onto the base of your neck as he rutted into you, hips slamming against yours. You felt one of his large, warm hands slide from your waist and across your pelvis, settling a finger on your sensitive clit.
You whined, and he shushed your gently. “Take it, darling, take it. I know you can… come on.”
Price rubbed tight circles against the bundle of nerves as he fucked you, hitting that same spot within you that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids and whimpering his name repeatedly.
It only took a couple of seconds for you to reach your peak.
“Price, m’gonna come,” you gasped, trembling and snapping your eyes open. “Please, sir—!”
He groaned, gruff and pleasure-strained. “That’s a good girl, darling. ‘Course you can come. Come all over my fucking cock and show me how much of a good girl you are for your captain.”
Yeah, that was it.
You came, for lack of better words, violently. You legs shook, knees trembling as you arched your back off the mattress. Your body pressed tight to Price’s, his cock angling deeper as he fucked you through your post-orgasmic haze. Your breaths came in pants, face flushed and clit throbbing.
Price meanwhile was nearing his peak as well. He was fucking you into your silken sheets like a scene out of some kind of porno— large hands gripping at your waist, your thighs; eyes travelling hungrily down your body to where his cock repeatedly entered your tight hole. His cock was completely slick with you, his pelvis and lower stomach splashed and glimmering with your arousal.
“Gonna fill you up so good,” Price groaned, eyelids fluttering for a moment. “Come so deep in this cunt you’ll feel me for weeks— ruin you for any other man, eh, love? That fuckwit from the bar has nothing on me.”
You didn’t even have the energy to moan like you really fucking wanted too. Everything he was saying was going straight to your aching cunt, and it was probably sending you to an early ovulation. You felt like you craved him.
Price suddenly grabbed your hand, bringing it downwards to where his cock slammed into you. He pushed your fingers around your hole so that you could feel where his fat cock entered you over and over again. You moaned at the feeling, just as Price knocked your hand aside and folded you in half— pressing your legs up against your chest. A mating press.
He was huffing now, drawing near his climax as another one built within you.
“One more time for me, love.” He said and Jesus Christ you didn’t need to be told again.
Another orgasm overtook you before you knew it was there: drowning you and leaving you gasping as you gushed around him, hands gripping the back of his neck for support. You sighed out his name, airy and exhausted, as his thrusts began to lose rhythm.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he uttered. “So good for me. Now ‘m gonna fill this cunt so good— shit— fucking breed you nice and full. Might take, eh, love? You’d love that wouldn’t you? Love being all nice and fat with my kid, and I’d fuck you whenever you wanted— hngh, Jesus— give this needy cunt my cock whenever you wanted.”
These words were coming out of your captain’s mouth… Soap is never going to believe you.
Price let out a low, almost whimper of a sound as he thrusted sloppily a couple more times. “Take it, darling, fuck. Take my come. Fucking take it like my good girl. So proud of you.”
He came with a shudder and a deep groan: warmth flooding your insides and splashing deep into your cervix— helpful thanks to the fact you could feel him in your guts.
The both of you breathed heavily in tandem until his cock softened inside you and he pulled out carefully. His come oozed out of your hole, and he shoved it back inside with two fingers.
Price cleared his throat. “I’m gonna have to do a lot of paperwork to get us out of whatever mess we’ve just put ourselves in.”
You sighed. “Let’s not talk about work when you’re knuckle deep in my pussy.”
Price stopped talking, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips.
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