price please domesticate me

sideblog for COD thirsting. | man im just here to play dolls, and make old men kiss | he/him/it | 20 | 18+/mdni

[rawme-price]

Its about time I make an intro post, huh?

HI EVERYONE!!! my name is rommy (sounds like rawme lol) and I use he/him and it/its pronouns pls. Im an aroace trans guy in practice, but in fiction i do love my men <3 :] im chronically obsessed with the 141, and my main content is hybrid posts, smut, and deaddove! I really try my best to answer asks, but it can be difficult, so please have some grace!

Feel free to use my stuff as inspiration! Pls tag me if u post it!!

As always, I want to keep this blog a safe space, so here's a general rule: be respectful. If you wouldnt say it to someone's face you probably shouldnt comment it, and if you wouldnt say it off anon you shouldn't say it at all!

Finally, some house keeping!

NEVER USE MY WORK FOR AI. NEVER. Im strongly against AI, including those who support it.

THIS BLOG BY FAGS FOR FAGS AND IF U DONT FUCK WITH THAT PLS FUCK OFF.

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[rawme-price]

Hi Rommy, I'm trying to start writing again after a VERY long break. I feel like the chapters for the fic im working on are too short. What sort of min word count do you aim for when looking for/writing a multi part fic?

*grabs you and holds you by the face*

listen to me. listen. There is absolutely no minimum word count unless you want there to be. Your chapters can be 200 words for all I care. The purpose of a chapter is to achieve a goal of telling a story. If you can do that in 200 words good! If you need 15k, good!

I don't look for specific word counts when reading a fic, im more concerned about the actual contents of the story. Do what makes you comfortable and what you feel is needed for your story!!!!

[rawme-price]

No thoughts just price finding reader with a broken down car in the middle of nowhere.

You had been staring hopelessly at your engine for...far too long. Of course you were too damn foolish to learn anything about cars before taking the backroads home from a long trip, too tired to deal with traffic.

Which is how price finds a cute thing on the side of the road, soft eyes full of tears, so obviously in need. You stare blinking at the headlights of his old, beat-up and dirt covered truck. The kind of car that's been put to use.

"Sure, I'll help you out love," he smells like cigarettes and dirt, grin sleazy. You have half a mind to tell him you've got it handled, but the thought of someone worse has you only fidgeting with your hands when he adds "but you need to help me out a little first."

Your knees ache where he has you knelt against the dirt road, out in the open for anyone to see. Still, you unzip his pants when his hand smoothes over your nape, glancing up nervously.

"Go on, c'mon– there you go." He praises lowly when you pull his cock free. The first thing you notice is the smell. Musky, sweaty, too much but you have no choice but to acclimate when his hand holds you firm. "Want yer car fixed, eh? Or i could give you a ride."

Tentatively, you lick the very tip of his dick. Salty, bitter. Your first instinct is to gag, but the longer it sits...the more you enjoy it. That subtle aftertaste. A bit earthy, a bit on the raw side. Before you can stop yourself, you're dipping down to lick a stripe from base to tip.

"Ahhh there you are, knew you'd like it, runt." Price groans, shoving your closer to his crotch. He let's you lick at it to your heart's content, but pulls you away with a tut when you go to swallow him down. "Got something better for you."

His cock rests against your face, thick and heavy and dripping precum over your forehead. One large, calloused hand splays over it, creating a warm cavern between palm and face for him to rut into.

It's fucking filthy, this stranger rutting his sweaty cock over your face, smearing it in the stench of his musk. You can't do anything besides whine and take it, tongue rolling out to give him just that little bit more, occasionally tasting his balls on a deep stroke.

"Mmmghh– fuck– so damn obedient–" he moans, leaning fully against his truck and pulling back enough to shoot ropes of cum over your face. Marking you with him.

Finally, he steps away, doesn't bother to tuck himself back in his pants before stepping to the side to piss.

He snorts at your disgusted expression "lucky I'm a kind man. Gimme a second, yer car just needs a jumpstart."

[rawme-price]

No thoughts just fucking inexperienced!ghost and he's absolutely starstruck.

He can hardly believe it's real. you of all people on top of him, pressing him into the bed by his shoulders. You, the fucking beautiful mechanic that he's been crushing on since you yelled at him two months ago.

"Mmhhh, so well behaved, baby–" you moan, hips moving against his languidly, working his cock in and out in deep strokes. Ghost swears you look like an angel, the soft light of his lamp back-lighting you in a halo.

"Ah– ah– mmghh– please, love–" ghost whines, hands running along your skin like he can't decide where to settle. Switching between your chest, waist, thighs. Rough callouses digging into you like he's trying to make sure you stay.

He gasps when you clench down, hips bucking up and head tossed back. He settles down as soon as quick as it started, thigh muscles clenched to stop himself. He doesn't want to ruin it, doesn't want to disappoint you.

"Ah! Fuck– whoah, hey, si. Simon–" you have to grab him by the chin and force him to look at you. Fear and uncertainty under that heavy curtain of lust, insecure about everything, about this with you. Your lips press to his jaw, quick, almost sweet before you pull back to smile "hey, it's okay. You can move, I promise you'll be fine"

His hips give the smallest twitch in anticipation, but he holds back to ask "what– what if it's wrong? What do I do?"

"Then I correct you," you shrug, grinding back into him slow.

"Oh." Ghost stares for a moment, processing. Slowly, his hands creep down to your hips, grip tightening like the springs on a trap "okay."

That's all the warning you get before he's physically moving your hips, your entire body, for you. The thick muscle on his biceps bulging with the force, first replicating your movements then slowly adding his own thrusts. "Ah– ahh, okay, that's good, si— FUCK!"

he angled your hips just right, hitting that spot inside that you had been avoiding in hopes he came first. A hint of that confident soldier you know slips through when ghost chuckles, shuffling his shoulders to pound that sweet spot relentlessly.

Ghost is staring at you with stars in his eyes while he fucks you stupid on his cock, brows knit together and flushed down to his chest. Thankfully, he cums first, and it's in that desperate chase to ride out his own orgasm that you do too, having to catch yourself on the headboard to stop from face-planting against him.

"Fuck, good boy, simon. So good for me, yeah?" You mumble lazily– wait. Surely not.

You roll your hips to confirm, almost shocked when you ask "holy shit, are you already hard again?"

Ghost groans under you, thrusting up hungrily "never stopped."

Oh you are so fucked and you are so never letting ghost go.

[rawme-price]

do you think the 141 boys would work out at a high or low end gym, or just at home when they're off duty?

Ohhhh okay I don't go to gyms but!!!

Price works at a high-end gym for the sole purpose of liking the clean, fancy showers. Also flirting with the young influencers there. He is the kinda guy to groan for every single workout.

Gaz prefers the local gym near his apartment, reasons that equipment is all the same anyways. Same with soap, though he occasionally meets up with gaz to jog around parks...and jerk eachother off in secret.

Ghost....doesn't go to the gym. He dissapears into the woods and when he comes back he has a nice pump. No one knows what the fuck he does out there. Soap thinks he's lifting rocks, gaz thinks he has whole ass gym equipment out there, price knows not to ask when it comes to ghost.

[rawme-price]

I read the Ghoap fic you posted on AO3 and oh my god it was so incredible. I think you wrote it so well in recognizing the harms of those types of relationships and it floored me. It was kinda a breath of fresh air from the growing purity culture I’ve been seeing online (not that purity culture doesn’t come from places of good faith, but it’s a bit much sometimes) and I loved the writing style and the story.

Omg thank you!!!!!(*≧∀≦) !!!

I was honestly sooooo nervous about posting it bc it's so different from my usual content on here, and I wasn't sure how people would react!! It was actually so fun writing something "longer" even if it was only 1k words...

Anyways I wanna write longer stuff soon! I mayyyy have a gaz x reader in the works...Just gotta figure out the shit with my car (;_;)

[rawme-price]

Thinking about octopus mer!price who's decided intern!reader is his mate.

Truthfully, the sanctuary had thought his tank was escape-proof after the whole nikolai debacle. Shame on them for not realizing an octopus mer can never be bound to a place except through choice of leverage.

Because now you're left to deal with price showing up anywhere throughout the sanctuary because he wants to keep an eye on his "mate"

How the hell he even made that decision, seeing at your field of study is sharks not octopi, you have no idea. One day you're walking past the octopi enclosure and the next two thick tentacles are circling your legs and pulling you closer to him.

If ever an employee comes across his empty tank, the first step is to call you and nine times out of ten that's exactly where he is.

[rawme-price]

Price isn't stupid, he sees the way ghost looks at you. As if you aren't prices, as if he has the right to look at you like that.

Eye's dragging along your skin in the middle of a meeting, practically fucking undressing you in his mind. Even when you mumble to price behind closed doors "he's just a bit odd, sir. Nothing like that."

Sure, you've noticed it too. How ghost lingers on the swoop of your neck, or his hands tighten on your bicep for just a split-secind before letting go. It could very well be a crush, or infatuation, or desire. But you don't tell your captain that, no need to cause stress when you'd turn down your lieutenant anyways.

Still. Price has always had a possessive streak. Wants to warn ghost off.

"Seriously, I can't hide these for shit. Someone's gonna find out." You grumble, inspecting the dark hickeys high up on your neck.

"No rules about having fun, sergeant." Price rumbles mildly from his place on the bed "just to scare off any cubs sniffing around, eh? No need to put my name on you...yet."

It seems to have the opposite affect, because the day ghost sees them for the first time is the same day he pulls you aside after lunch. You already have a rejection on your tongue when—

"Are you safe, sergeant?"

What.

"What? Sir, I don't— what?" You stumble, not having expected...that.

"Are you safe?" Ghost asks again, firmer. He brushes two fingers over your bruises. Not jealous, but inspecting. "I know you and cap have been getting close...is it...consensual? Are you okay?"

"What– oh my god— yes! Yes, I'm fine." You wave a frantic hand, eye's wide when you realize what ghost is asking you. "I'm safe, it's fine. Yes, I want to be there."

Then, you laugh and add "actually, the marks are because of you. John got jealous, you starin' and all."

"I see" ghost narrows his eyes, nodding to himself. He offers you a quick pat "im here if it ever isn't safe. Cheers."

Huh.

....wait. how did he know about you and price!?

[rawme-price]

Lovvveeee what you posted on ao3, excellent as always!

Omg tyyyy (∩´∀｀)∩

I was honestly so nervous posting it bc I really want to improve writing long fics in general as well as that specific style. So I figured id sit down for 2hrs and write what I could!

It's much more difficult than anticipated (;_;) only 1k words....idk how you authors manage such high word counts but I'll figure it out!!!

(Also to anyone who might go read it. Pls pls pls mind the tags it isn't a happy fic.)

[rawme-price]

No thoughts just ghost scrounging around your apartment during culinary finals...

Truthfully, he's been going mad with the constant smell of something in cooking in your apartment. All the vents are connected, and it just so happens your kitchen vents directly into his apartment.

Meanwhile, you're stressed about these goddamned potatoe cubes. You swear you've cut at least fifty pounds of potatoes and it's still not perfect! Because you were raised right, you refuse to let any go to waste.

Thus. The plethora of potato-based foods currently piled in your fridge. You're halfway through losing your mind when you hear a knock on the door, having to take a moment before calmly asking "...WHAT!?"

Silence, but you can hear the boards outside creak. "....yer makin' soup?"

What.

You open the door to find your neighbor of whom you've never talked to standing blank-faced at your doorstep. Simon, he introduced himself as when you had been given his mail by mistake.

Simon leans further into the doorway with zero care for manners, nose lifted up like a dog to scent the air "...and mashed potatoes?"

"Uhm. Yes. Look, I don't have time for this, I have exams and—"

"Can i have some?"

"...what."

"I'll pay you. Name your price."

Simon is onto his third serving of soup and shows no signs of stopping, rumbling about the spices you chose and how nice it is to taste something again. It's...nice, having him there. Feels closer to the crowded class kitchen you're used to.

Thats the first time you cut perfect cubes.

From there, it's tradition to invite ghost over for any of your practical studying. A presence that doesn't demand attention, allows you to settle into a focused mindset. You decide to keep him around.

The fact he's working through your frozen leftovers at an alarming rate while paying you an obscene amount has nothing to do with it.....definitely not.

[rawme-price]

Ghost and the secretary on base have been dating for the past three months, everyone knows this.

Well...everyone but you two.

It's painful for everyone else involved, watching you happily approach ghost with a "hey, si. We still on for tonight?" When most people go out of their way to avoid the creep who wears a skull mask all the time.

Really, it's so obvious you like ghost. You always carry around two lunch boxes, one packed specifically for ghost because "that poor bloke would survive on raw spinach and dog food if I let him."

Not to mention how physically affectionate you two are. The most physical ghost is with others happens on the field, pats on backs and rough bicep grabs in a show of military solidarity. But with you? Gaz swears he's seen you and ghost hold hands when you walk back to your cars at night, and soap has walked in on you and ghost cuddling in an empty meeting room multiple times.

But when anyone asks about it, you just smile and wave a dismissive hand "ah, simons a good friend, that's all."

As if you're completely blind to the way ghost only relaxes around you. How he waits for you at doorways and saves trinkets he finds to give to you at lunch. Its so damn obvious ghost is infatuated with you, and you him.

Or, that's what everyone thinks.

The truth? You and ghost had tried dating, when you first realized how well you clicked. It just felt like the thing you ought to do. Anyone else would've.

Only. Dating made ghost freezes up over everything, made you feel weird and trapped, made everything wrong and bad. You almost cut contact before coming to a solution.

No definitions. No words or labels for what you are. Friends, lovers, something in between or something completely different.

It's the happiest you've ever been with someone.

[rawme-price]

Thinking about gaz who has a mortifyingly intense crush on the medic the 141 tend to work with.

Which usually isn't a problem, he can stumble through conversations well enough so long as he doesn't get distracted staring at your hands patching someone up. Gaz has made sure to keep his crush tightly contained, no need to humiliate himself with that.

That of course, all goes out the window when he's shot twice in the stomach. Blood loss and adrenaline have the sergeant fully convinced he will be dead before you manage to save him.

Might as well confess, right?

"Love, i– i need to tell you something–" he mumbles, trying to grab your arm but being swiftly held down so he doesn't get in the way. "I always liked you. Really liked you."

For a split second, like a fucking amateur, you freeze.

Gaz doesn't notice, already rambling further "you're perfect, yknow? Christ– nights I've spent thinnking about thos' hands of yours. Wanna feel them wi'out gloves–"

"You're losing blood, sergeant." You mumble quieter than you would, trying to rationalize his behavior as nothing more than momentary delusions.

"M no' lying—" gaz huffs, head tossed back but still lucid enough to catch your implication. Not lucid enough to stop himself when he says "can't fuckin' get off to normal shite anymore. All medical porn, innit? thinkin' about you, sometimes just imaginations enough—"

"Sergeant." You warn mildly, pressing at his wound just that bit harder. Retribution for your burning face.

"Mghh! Fuck— keep doing that, love. Need my last breath to be under your hands—" gaz groans, truly having lost it now because you can see the way his cock twitches in his trousers. "Press a little harder, please—"

Ah. The drugs worked.

Gaz goes limp under you, and quietly you thank whatever above that you were the only ones to hear that. Face burning, you finish patching him up to drag to emergency evac.

"Almost had me fooled you felt the same, sergeant." You whisper, completely unaware that kyles comms have been on the whole time.

[rawme-price]

dubcon gazghostreader where ghost and reader are like UNCOMFORTABLY touchy with gaz and talk about his organs and stuff 🙏🤤

Love the concept of gaz being their enrichment who gets flustered by their weirdness and maybe tries to lean into their methods...( ´∀`)

Oftentimes it's just fleeting comments, not all of them as violent as outsiders may think. Like when you watch him disassemble a rifle and hum "nice work, kyle. Wouldn't find a speck of blood on that if you wanted to kill me."

Or when ghost gifts him a knife on a random Tuesday while passing him in the halls, muttering "thought of you while cleaning this."

Some of the worst best moments are when you and ghost feel particularly frisky and decide to team up. Both of you cornering him against a counter, mumbling to eachother while ghost slips a thick, warm hand under his shirt to press at his fuzzy abdomen "good muscle, would taste nice, I bet."

"We'd have to fatten him up." You comment, slipping a hand down to squeeze his thighs in appreciation. "Pretty thing deserves a good meal."

All the while Gaz's face is burning under your attentions. He always got so damn flustered when ghost would do it, now you? It's like you guys want him to be half-mast all day.

Oh and if gaz ever corners you, bites at you're neck and groans "fuck, you'd bleed so nice for me." He barely gets a moment to bask in the flustered squeak you let out before bodily hauling him to ghosts bedroom like a cat with a fresh kill.

Turns out, you and ghost love feeling like prey just as much as he does.

[rawme-price]

Hi!! (this is a diff anon and you don't have to respond to this if you don't want)

But I just wanted to say have so much fun at the ZOO!!!

I love the zoo so much too! But I struggle with anxiety and never did anything fun by myself until I made the exception for the zoo despite being so nervous and it was 10/10. I've gone solo several times now and it has really helped me become more comfortable doing fun things alone

I hope this isn't too much oversharing but I just wanted to send you some love and support!

So from one stranger to another I'm so proud of you for doing something like this!!! Enjoy the zoo!!

Oh my gosh tyyy 🥺🥺 I was having so many second thoughts and almost talked myself out of it last night!!! But im really committed to going!!

Im getting my stuff packed now and queueing up a few posts bc I plan to be there a long time (long drive so you KNOW I gotta make the most of that gass money) and I plan to take my sketchbook!!!

I dont wanna accidentally doxx myself, so I might not show photos unless I think its safe, but im down to share drawings tomorrow!!!!((o(^∇^)o))

Anyways YAYYYYY zoo time!!!! (*^▽^)/★*☆♪

[rawme-price]

Recently been thinking about ghost kidnapping reader after the death of soap....

Maybe you're related to his late love, maybe you just remind him of johnny. Your laugh, that smile, your hobbies or speech. Doesn't matter what set his sights on you first. When ghost decides to hunt, you're already as good as meat between his teeth.

You never notice him, not really. Lucky he chose a civilian.

Sometimes, you stop and stare behind you at the long stretch of sidewalk in the night, grip on your phone that much tighter. You never see him, he's sure of it, but it's the way you seem to tense up more and more often that has him palming himself in the dark. Smart thing, just like his johnny.

Ghost watches your apartment through the scope of his rifle two building away. Sure, he could plant cameras easily, but something about lying still on his chest quiets his mind into base instincts. Slowly grinding against the inside of his pants while you dance around you apartment, he knows you like the same music johnny did.

He picks at your personhood like a fresh animal skin he's already planning how to mount on the wall. A few cuts to removed the inconsistencies, a few stitches to mold you more like you should be.

You never notice the man standing in the dark corner of your rooms, too damn sure in the safety of your home. You never notice until a thick glove is covering your mouth and something sharp is pricking your neck.

When you wake up, it's chained to a bed in some basement. The clothes you've been put in don't quite fit, military and...bloodied.

When your captor walks in, lets out a sigh like its his first time relaxing in years and greets "good to see you again, johnny."

[rawme-price]

No thoughts just the 141 who's convinced there's something wrong with vulture hybrid!reader...

They've worked with you before on the field, gaz personally scouted you after a week-long op. Brilliant in combat, a deadly force. By all means, you should blend with the team.

Except...you don't, not really.

You're social, yes, but you seem to stutter around group meals. Something the team uses as a crutch for low-stakes bonding.

Gaz is the one to notice it first, how you always pick at your plate before eating it, as if trying to convince yourself to do so. You'll eat the meat after a moment, but the rest goes largely ignored.

So you're picky, that's no big deal as long as you're eating. Or, at least it isn't until Kyle and ghost step out for a smoke one night and find you rummaging through the trash.

You pop up with a bit of turkey from two days ago in your mouth, and stare them straight in the eyes before swallowing the rest of it, ruffling your feathers casually. "Evening."

"Sergeant. What the fuck." Gaz grimaces, stomach churning at even the thought of that taste. More than that, worried sick about what the hell drove you to eat that "are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" You very carefully try to remain casual.

"You. You just wait rotting meat. From the trash!" Gaz waves a hand between you and the dumpster "is the food here not adequate? Do you need substitutes? Special vitamins? What's wrong—"

"Better flavor, innit?" Ghost interrupts, lighting up a smoke and eyeing you almost jealously.

Gaz mentally notes to never let you or ghost to your devices on solo missions. Who knows what you freaks would do with a corpse.

"No. Absolutely not." He pinches the bridge of his nose, lip curled in irritation, before looking at you "if you want old meat, toss some in a container and keep it in your room or something, I don't care. Stop eating from the damn trash. can't have you choking on glass."

Ghost scoffs next to him, no doubt already planning to bully gaz for his "natural leadership" later tonight.

You're still a bit shocked it was...that easy.

No excessive groans of disgust. No demands to eat normally. Just, a safer alternative. Huh.

And to think you spent all those weeks convinced they would kick you out. Foolish you, they've been dealing with ghost for years.

[rawme-price]

i was rereading some of your omegaverse stuff, specifically the one w omega!reader having the nesting instincts of a rock and i feel that would also apply to ghost. maybe he likes making his nests in “hidden” areas like closets but then his actual nest is like. a blanket bunched up in the corner

Omega!ghost may genuinely have the worst nesting instincts of any omega you've met.

Oftentimes, when you and him are crawling through enemy territory, he'll offhandedly point at some place and say "perfect spot fo' a nest, sergeant."

Without fail, these "perfect spots" are random ass concrete stairs, a fallen and rotted tree, or on one occasion the inside of an industrial meat processing cooler. It all sets a pretty weird picture for what his actual nest is.

Still, nothing could have prepared you for the day he took you to his apartment.

Ghost has a bed, with a single blanket and pillow, but it smells of laundry detergent and dust. Definitely not a nest. No, the actual nest you find later in the night while searching for a spare blanket because christ his apartment is cold.

That's when you see it, the smell of a distinctly happy omega removes all doubt that this is the nest.

Two knives and a rifle. Just. Sitting on the floor of the closet.

You try to imagine ghost squeezing in, he'd have to tuck his feet a bit but it could work. More notably, this is one of the few times you've smelled his scent truly happy without any notes of anxiety.

You grab the blanket and pointedly don't comment on the nest.