RUGBY PT.3

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RUGBY PT.3
(throws price's arm into your enclosures so you guys won't tear me apart 😊🫶)
everyone go in egg’s comments and thank her right now
(looks at gaz) he needs to get slobbered on!!
it's a new year, so i wanna try something new (a month late lol) where i make a little post for all of the fics i enjoyed each month!
this is gonna specifically be for fics that were also written that month, but if you wanna see more of my fic recs and favs, i have em all organized on my recs blog, here!
if you have any fic recs of your own, feel free to send em my way here or on my sideblog- i love finding new fics and writers!
aheheh. have a wip 💕💖
Thinking of- nay, dreaming of- barracks bunny soap.
mmm, yum, food
SoapxEveryone ever, Ghost x Pining (nsfw):
Simon knows he’s a slut the second he sees him. Pretty face and nice smile like that, he has to be. He’s proven right less than an hour after meeting ‘Soap’ when the whore leans over to the recruit next to him as they’re told to spar and drawls, I bet I can take ya, big boy.
He does, gets the man on the ground in 5 seconds, but the way the other man grabbed him, tried to pin him down by the wrists, makes it obvious that feisty little Johnny Mactavish will be taking it in a different way later that night.
Simon goes to bed wondering if it’s happening right then, while he’s palming himself over the covers.
His eyes seem to be glued to Johnny, watching him flit around the base without a care in the world, pearly whites shown off to anyone that approaches him, always quick with banter, a flirty comment here, an innuendo there.
The men eat it up. They’re like hungry dogs the way they trail after Johnny, tongues hanging out, haplessly hoping for a taste. A late night pressed together in the showers, a storage closet with plush lips wrapped around their pricks. An invitation lower if they’re lucky.
Simon doesn’t usually take to knowing anything about the private lives of his subordinates, but he’s always walking in on Johnny’s little… meetings… for some reason. There have been too many times catching Johnny quietly closing another recruits door, licking something sticky from the corner of his mouth, or stumbling out of a storage closet after Simon walks past someone, making him loathe the sated and smug expression on their face.
He should’ve reprimanded Soap about a dozen times now. Should’ve written him up, but every single time Soap’s small smile widens as he lights up, turning towards Ghost with tousled hair and a light blush tinging his cheeks, greets him with an, “Lt! Fancy seein’ you here.”
Simon, without fail, turns around and walks the other way.
What he would like to do is shove the man back into the wall, drag him to his office and wipe that smile off his face. Press Johnny into his desk and make him beg, plead for Simon to put him in his place, cry for forgiveness. He’d spank his ass raw, really make him regret giving it out to whoever gave him attention that day.
“This is what a little slut like you deserves,” he’d say, relishing in the was Johnny gasps his name. He’d make the man choke on his cock, savor the way his throat constricts around it as Simon shoves it to the back of his throat.
“Someone needs to shut you up,” he’d growl, “God knows you still manage to talk ev’ryone’s ears off, even with your mouth stuffed as much as it is.”
Johnny would whine around his dick. Simon would have to stop him from jerking off, press the toe of his boot down on Johnny’s croch before he can pull his underwear down.
He wouldn’t let the man cum. Not at all. Maybe get him close a couple times, really make those tears run down his rosy cheeks, but he’d cut it off with a twist to the hair and a command. Johnny would follow it every time, Simon would make sure he did.
He’d pull the man all the way to the base of his dick, make his nose nuzzle into the hairs down there. Maybe keep him there until he gets docile enough that he keeps coming back, nice and pretty and all for Simon, too whipped to seek cock anywhere else.
Instead, he follows Johnny with his eyes. Fist around the head of his dick late at night, furiously moving up and down until he’s raw.
He doesn’t let it interfere with work, keeps the burning anger down when he sees another man leaning over Johnny, cocky smile that Simon knows will be rewarded later. Doesn’t do anything as he sees Johnny pull yet another recruit into a private bathroom. Bites his tongue whenever Johnny winks at him.
He doesn’t manage to keep it in when he hears the men talking, though. Loses it when he hears “he’s cute, but fucking annoying. Someone needs to teach the bunny his place.”
He tears the idiot a new one, has the man on toilets for a month. Doesn’t miss the way Johnny’s eyes widen with awe, his jaw just a bit slack as Ghost ensures that nobody dares insult him again.
Damned if he lets anyone else teach his slut a lesson.
in my head, evil scientist lady in tspf is just moira overwatch from overwatch
going to mcdonalds* to celebrate 2k what do u all want🍔🍟(part 1)
💀 Ghost/Reader
🚬 Price/Reader
🧼 Soap/Reader
🧢 Gaz/Reader
👑 König/Reader
*a full illustration/minicomic with the man of the hungry masses' 'choosing!
part 2 will be to decide the flavor 🍽️
Blood in the Wine
Chapter Two: Reflections
A/N: thanks so much for being patient with me getting this chapter written. Happy Valentine's Day! xoxo
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: blood mention, bruises, mild self harm (hot water), nudity mention, victim blaming (kinda), mild dubcon (compulsion) nothing too major in this chapter
Songs to listen to: Absinthe by iDKHOW and Social Climb by iDKHOW
---
You were drowning. Gaz's hands were simultaneously your only lifeline and the things dragging you down deeper. Price's eyes bore into you. You shivered, whether from his cold gaze, the loss of blood, or just the plain waves terror you felt ebbing deep below, you weren't sure.
minute 1 into this: i'm gonna give him more tats! :)
hour 4 into this: grumble grumble making my life harder than it should be grumble grumble
thank you to everyone who sent in suggestions!
ahahahahahahaha yes yessss good
I’d go w e a k in the knees if Price did this, with a sprinkling of nsfw intentions, pretty please
“a kiss after grabbing the other’s arm and pulling them back close”
❤️❤️
You get 3 implied sprinkles, this is so much sweeter than i expected, sorry anon! hope you enjoy anyway
Price x Reader (nsfwish?, sweet and sappy, price gets a kiss):
Valentine’s snuck up on him. He wasn’t used to keeping track of most holidays, was horrible at celebrating valentine’s the few times he had a significant other during that time of year, so he only realizes it’s coming up in a few days when he sees Soap tape a badly cut out heart to Ghost’s jacket.
He’s…not sure if he should care that it’s valentine’s day. He hasn’t in years past, even when he maybe should’ve, but he’s never had someone… well, someone like you.
It’s not that you two are together or anything, you’re just, something. Have been something since you found his favorite hiding place, since he started bringing blankets to said hiding place so he could press you down without getting dirt on your back.
You two don’t even talk about it outside of those times, few and far between, but you do share glances, knowing smirks. He’s definitely stared at your ass a little too much to be completely subtle.
So he probably shouldn’t care about Valentine’s day, but a little part of him wants to. Wants to see your face light up when he gets you flowers, or wants to take you out to dinner. An actual, fancy, nice dinner. Show you that he can clean up, be presentable, a gentleman.
He’s last one to the briefing room, everyone already seated, Simon to Soap’s right—he should keep an eye on that—you right next to his chair at the head of the table.
“Want a kiss, Captain?” He freezes. He can’t exactly compute what you just said, out loud, in front of everyone, in that voice that’s whispered in his ear, praised him, begged him for more. For a terrifying second he doesn’t know what to think, and then you’re unfolding your hand to reveal a Hershey’s kiss in your palm and the rest of the men in the room are chuckling as he huffs and makes his way to the front of the room.
He goes to your room later, finds you laying on your bed with a book open. You’re completely engrossed, only noticing him leaning in the doorway after a good minute.
“Captain, what do I owe the pleasure?” you say as he walks over, closing the door behind him.
“I think I was offered a kiss,” he replies, smugness dripping through his voice. He sits down on the edge of your bed.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry they ran out,” you tease, he can’t help but chuckle at your audacity, “should’ve taken it earlier.”
“Sure there are absolutely none left?” he raises his eyebrows. You purse your lips, scrunch your eyebrows together, pretend you’re thinking real hard. Endearing.
“Nnnope, maybe next year,” you smile sweetly at him, like you’re not being a nuisance, like you know that he loves it.
“Ah, then I came here for nothing,” He shakes his head in mock disappointment as he gets up to go, almost turning all the way around before there’s a hand on his wrist.
He’s pulled back down easily, ends up on his elbows, caging you in. You don’t seem to mind, smirk still pulling at your lips as you pull him down, give him a little peck.
“Tease,” he chuckles as he leans back in, presses his whole body into you.
He asks you to be his valentine the next morning, and you laugh and say yes on the condition that he spends the whole year planning since he asked you so early.
Can I get a combo of "A kiss from someone the other didn't think thought of them that way" "A kiss stemmed from jealousy" & "An angry kiss in the rain" from the Kiss Promt list perhaps? W/ Price × reader idc if it's sfw or not. Ya girl just needs a lil angst 🤤 I may be asking for too much but..😶🌫️
two ppl asked for kissing in the rain so i’m combining it into this! Happy valentine’s yall im eating so much chocolate
Price x reader (MOSTLY sfw (i’m reading this back there’s one lil implied fantasy whoops im so sorry im keeping it tho), age difference, lil’ angsty with a happy ending):
He shouldn’t’ve entertained it in the first place. As soon as he noticed the way you stared at him he should’ve pulled you aside, stopped talking to you, anything to nip it in the bud. It’s wrong on so many levels, he’s your superior, he’s training you, he’s…significantly older.
He doesn’t do anything to stop it, though. Can’t even bring himself to care about the age difference when his mind wanders to what his hands would look like wrapped around your waste, what you would look like pressed into his pubic hair, throat constricting around his—
It’s a problem now. He has to shut it down.
It’s valentine’s day and he’s sitting in his office, pouring over papers utterly alone. It doesn’t get to him, really, it’s just… not a fun day.
His head shoots up at a knock on the door, and then his heart sinks as you step into the room. It’s in his stomach when he glances down to see you holding a single rose in a tiny round glass. Where the fuck did you get a rose on base? He doesn’t say anything as you place it on the edge of his desk, stays quiet as you confess your feelings, eyes sweet and hopeful.
Any why wouldn’t you be hopeful? He’s indulged you too much, indulged himself. Allowed smalltalk to led to deeper conversations, let you sit on the roof with him as he smokes, told you to call him John, put his jacket around your shoulders when you got cold. He’s been so fucking stupid, and now you’re here with a red rose on valentine’s day and he has to break your heart.
You’re crying as you leave his office.
He’s pulled to the party against his better judgement. Ends up standing in the corner, talking to Soap and Gaz as he looks at the pitiful cut-out hearts and streamers taped to the ceiling. Last minute decorations since it had to be moved inside when it started raining. He ruefully thinks that that’s apt.
He’s trying to ignore you across the room, stop his eyes from wandering over everytime Soap goes on another tangent. He’s failing miserably. He thought he had more control, but you’re dressed up—taking advantage of one of the only times you don’t have to be in uniform—and surrounded by other recruits. Your friends, he guesses as he pushes down the jealous twinge in his stomach everytime you smile at one of them.
You look…happy. Genuinely happy, the kind of happy that makes his heart skip a beat every time he draws it out of you. That should be good, he knows he should be glad that whatever you were feeling for him was just a schoolyard crush, but it just makes his blood boil.
He tries to convince himself it’s fine. He’s not thinking about you. He’s not regretting every action that led him here—and he’s definitely not thinking about the rose he has tucked in a shelf in his desk where nobody else can see it—as one of your “friends” takes the liberty to wrap an arm around your lower back to lean in and whisper something in your ear.
But his feet are moving as soon as he sees you leave the group, following you into the small kitchen on base, effectively blocking you in as you try to refill your drink.
You feel him immediately, stiffening up, turning towards him with wide and confused eyes.
“John-?”
“Your friends seem pretty comfortable around you,” comes out before he can stop it.
“W-what?” You look cute when you’re confused, nose scrunching up as you take a step backwards. It only serves to make him angrier.
“Just thought you needed a reminder of appropriate relations,” he growls, crossing his arms as your confusion starts to morph into anger, “I was prepared to let your little stunt go earlier, but if you’re slutting yourself out all over base-“
“Fuck you, Price,” you push past him, out the doors towards the barracks. The look on your face is seared into his brain, there was only a second of anger before your eyes were welling with tears and you just looked broken.
He’s chasing you before he can think. The rain is heavy, immediately soaking through his clothes straight to his skin but he doesn’t fucking care. He catches up to you easily, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to say something, but you’re yelling at him before he can figure out what to say.
And he knows he’s cruel, and he knows you should hate him, he knows they were just your friends, and he overreacted, and you don’t say it, but he knows an old man like him really really doesn’t deserve someone as sweet and caring and honest as you. Someone who would confess their feelings on valentines day, who would bring him a flower—nobody’s ever gotten him flowers before—who would stay up late to listen to his old stories, and continue to sit there with him when he got quiet as the memories got too painful.
He just can’t say that. Because he’s too old for you, and it’s not allowed, and he’s too much of a chicken. And you look so beautiful, hair matted to your head, a couple strands sticking to your face as you yell over the rain. So he does the only thing he’s thinking about right now, grabs you by the waist and pulls you in.
You stiffen for a second, hands coming up to his pecs, and he thinks you’re going to push him away, yell at him some more. He thinks that this is all he’ll ever get of you, but then you’re melting against his, pulling him closer, as your lips start to move against his.
Your lips are red and swollen when you break apart, and he can’t tell if the wetness is from the rain or his spit. He rests his forehead against yours, winds his arm around you.
“‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he whispers, hoping that he’ll never have to let you go again.
another kiss prompt
a kiss to make up for an argument
a dominating kiss to end an argument
a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness
a kiss against shoulder blades as arms wrap around from behind
a kiss against the shoulder after waking up beside each other
a kiss to distract
a kiss against tear stained cheek
a kiss on the brow
a kiss where they’re both covered in blood
a kiss after one muse has killed for the other
a kiss after one muse has injured the other
a kiss between enemies who should be fighting
a kiss between exes who meant to walk away
a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling
an adoring kiss because the other is rambling
a kiss to end sexual tension
an angry kiss
a tearful kiss
a kiss to prove a point
a hesitant kiss
a kiss from one muse who should be afraid of the other
a kiss from a muse who the other should be afraid of
kisses scattered along hardened jaw to try and sooth
a kiss as if trying to answer a question
a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort
a kiss from someone the other didn’t think thought of them that way
a kiss that says thank you
a kiss on the corner of the mouth, hoping for more but expecting nothing
an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between them
a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep
a kiss against the cheek after discovering the other is napping
a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotion
a kiss to comfort both parties
a kiss stemmed from relief
a kiss to make the other believe professed feelings
a possessive kiss to remind the other who they belong to
a possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other
a kiss stemmed from jealousy
a kiss to make someone else jealous
a biting, passionate kiss
a kiss against the neck which feels more like a bite, teeth bruising skin
a desperate kiss as if they are convinced they’ll slip through each other’s fingers
a kiss to make each other feel alive
a kiss stolen away in a corner, ignoring crowds
a kiss after being pulled into an alley to have a moment to themselves
a kiss after grabbing the other’s arm and pulling them back close
a kiss to convince the other to stay
a kiss like they’re trying to convince the other to love them
a hopeful kiss in the rain
a desperate kiss in the rain
an angry kiss in the rain
a possessive kiss in the rain
a playful, happy kiss in the rain
a passionate kiss stemmed from previous heartbreak in the rain
a kiss in the rain to make up like it’s a damn romcom
a kiss in the rain filled with the foreboding of a goodbye
a kiss to make the other stop being stubborn
a kiss after treating a wound
a defiant kiss
a kiss between partners in crime in front of someone they hold captive
a kiss to anger a third party
an adrenaline filled kiss shared after committing a crime
a surprise kiss just because the other couldn’t stop thinking about it
I won’t be putting out any fics for valentines, but I will do a couple prompts from here!
Asks are completely open, feel free to send me one from this list or one that you’ve been craving (pls send with pairing and sfw/nsfw, thx!)
happy almost valentines yayyyyyyy
Ok but I can't stop thinking about Price covered in lipstick kisses.
Just, this man covered in red kisses 🥰
aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA
SFW Captain Price x You (kiss time! nb!reader) :
• You don’t usually wear make-up, it’s a thing of convenience, more than anything. Just too much of a hassle on base, you don’t even have any in the barracks.
• You do, however, keep your bag in the sparse one-bedroom you rarely get to visit. So when you spend one of those few nights there, you’re dolling yourself up to do nothing.
• It doesn’t even pass your mind as you hear a knock on the door. You swing it open to see your captain, looking sheepish with a bag of take-out in his hand. An excuse. His eyes widen when he sees you, fingers going slack around the plastic take-out bag, almost dropping it.
• You two do this sometimes, both getting too lonely to handle leave. It had started after a breakdown, you sobbing that you couldn’t save everyone, and him wrapping you up in a hug before inviting you over to watch stupid movies and not think too hard.
• “Isn’t it past your bedtime, sir?” You ask. He chuckles, shaking himself out of his trance and pushes inside with a “I should be askin’ you the same thing,”
• It’s comfortable, if not unexpected, sitting on your couch with him watching TV. His arm is slung around the back of the couch behind you, occasionally asking about whatever show you chose. He doesn’t stop glancing over, though. Can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your face. It takes a couple minutes for you to break. Turning to meet his gaze and huffing out a “What? Do I have something on my face?”
• “Y-yeah,” you’ve never heard your captain stammer, “you’re ah…wearing make-up.” You pause, and then can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of your throat. “You wan’t me to share?” You ask before you can stop yourself. It’s the look on his face that actually makes you do it though, the blush that rises high in his cheeks as he doesn’t say anything.
• Before you know it you’re leaning over, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. He chases you as you pull away, gives you a confused expression when you giggle again at the red staining his lips. Then you’re running to the bathroom, grabbing your lipstick and reapplying.
• He ends up with red kiss marks littering his face, right above his beard, his nose, next to his eye. He’s patient, allows you to have your fun and snap a picture before he’s hoisting you up and claiming your mouth as he walks to the bedroom. If you send the picture to Gaz, well, he’ll never know.
OR
• You’re halfway through your eyeliner when you get the text, Soap inviting you out to drinks with the 141. A rare, but very exciting occurrence. You don’t think anything of it as you finish up your make-up, get into something a little more fun then you’d usually wear around the 141 and head out the door.
• It’s a good night, Soap meeting you with a “lookin’ bonnie” and a wink. The drinks are flowing, you quickly go from tipsy to drunk. It’s fine, you feel safe. Price doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second. Every time you look over, he’s already staring at you with an indecipherable expression.
• You’re coming out of the bathroom when he corners you, closer than necessary, alcohol on his breath. “Look nice,” he murmurs, hand sliding to the small of your back. There’s always been something between the two of you, glances shared, late night conversations that someone walked out before they became more. It’s not your fault that you lean into him, answering with a bashful “thanks,” as you wind your arms around his neck.
• You realize your mistake immediately, trying to rub the red off his lips and he chuckles. He elects to lead you out a back exit instead if going back and facing your team. His face ends up littered with kiss marks before you two reach your apartment.
Hello! I just wanted to let you know that in your most recent price headcanons post, you made a note about him loving how your cheeks turn bright pink. While I understood what you meant and that he likes you being flustered when you write physical descriptors for the reader, it can feel isolating to those who do not fit into those physical descriptors and take way the enjoyment for them. We’re all human and we all slip up sometimes but I just wanted to let you know so it’s something you are more aware of in the future. Below I’ve linked a few resources about how to make reader inserts more inclusive ♥️
https://at.tumblr.com/flightlessangelwings/on-the-subject-of-white-coding-in-fandom-creations/ztvx4n9kpbgq
this brings up a good question i think i wasn’t conciously asking, but ig ill establish now?
i haven’t been separating myself from the reader insert, but i think i have been straying away from the descriptions of whiteness that exclude me personally as a poc. I haven’t, however, been as aware of descriptors that usually signify whiteness but don’t exclude me? because of that, i think i’ll consciously try to make my fics as non-descriptive as possible from now on. Even though i was writing myself in there its… not rly necessary ig? especially if my descriptions are only excluding poc
I’d love it in the future if yall could like, tumblr dm me with concerns if that’s okay with etiqette and comfortability, i promise i dont bite, i’d just love to be able to talk through these issues as they upset people, cause i’m still kinda iffy on how i’d like to best handle this in the future and i’d love to be able to have a whole dialogue about any issue that may arise. I may end up changing my mind and j making fics for black readers, who knows.
I probably won’t be answering any more constructive asks like this on my page. Feel free to send them in, i’ll absolutely read and think over them, i j won’t answer publicly. I just wanted to set this identity-less writing as a standard for the future on here.
I also edited the Price headcannon to take that out, i’ll go back through chapter 5 and the rest of tspf another time when i have the energy.
I’d love it if you could send me the rest of the resources you mentioned! thanks anon
When I say I love making things I mean things like this
i think price would be very good at giving spankings 👀 its the daddy energy
NSFW Price (daddy kink/spanking):
• He loves the way your ass jiggles, can’t get enough of it. Most of your punishments are him bending you over the nearest surface (his desk, his bed, his leg when there’s nothing else) and making your ass raw.
• Honestly, he just really likes your ass. It’s a problem. Before you two became a… *thing*, he was proper, made sure his eyes didn’t linger where they shouldn’t. Sure, he had to stop himself from staring a lot more than any superior should, but he kept it under wraps.
• And then he actually got you, knew what you sounded like mewling under him, what your ass looks like when it bounces on his dick, and he’s gone. After that he can’t stop himself from touching you as much as possible. There are too many times where you two almost get caught, or where he palms your ass as he passes you in the hallway, but he really can’t stop himself.
• He likes leaving marks, and since they can’t go above the collar there are almost always bruises between your thighs and on your ass. If it’s not finger prints from him using your ass to hold you down, its bite marks from him getting down on his knees—grunting as he does— and mouthing at your cheeks until he’s satisfied.
•His absolute favorite, hands down, is how cockdrunk you get when he spanks you. How you look up at him afterwards, eyes glassy, staring at him like he hung the moon and stars. Your panties are always soaked through, and half the time he can’t help but sink down to his knees, tongue lapping over your clothed pussy until you cum into his mouth
• He’d never tell you, but he loves it when you’re bad. Can’t wait for the moments you play footsie in the kitchen as the 141 is trying to have their (infrequent but nice) team lunches, or when you waltz into his office when he’s on the phone, doing your best to distract him (and succeeding more often than not).
• He takes any excuse to punish you, pushing you down, cigar hanging lazily from his mouth, and revealing your skimpy little panties. He always gives you exactly what you need, relishes in your little pants and whimpers as you beg for him.
•“Sorry daddy, d-didn’t mean to be bad,” you cry as his palm comes down. Crack. He can’t remember why he gets to punish you, but he really doesn’t care as he gets to watch your ass ripple.
• “I know, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his hand over the already blossoming bruise. “but you needta take your punishment like a good girl for daddy, yeah? Count for me.”
• He rocks against you, dick leaking in his trousers. You make it to 15 before you break, and he pulls you into his laps, kissing your tears away and telling you how good you were for him, how well you took it, so pretty for daddy
I’ve wanted to write daddy kink price so fuckin bad man tysm