was just thinking of price punishing his younger gf, by having her naked body pressed to the floor, and her ass perched in the air, just a few feet in front of his desk. he nudges her knees apart, so he can get a better view of her pussy. and he just goes about doing whatever the fuck he does, and he has her there for hours-- her knees aching and back sore from the sharp arch that he's put her in.
john looks up from a piece of paperwork, and he can see the way her pussy flutters; see the way her stomach heaves softly, the soft pushing movement making her pussy leak; juices pooling from her hole, down her swollen folds, and then to her inner thighs. she's creamy and slick; literally dripping onto the carpet, and john is suddenly salivating. and she's been a good girl, no complaints and minimal whines and pleas-- that he can't help but push back from his chair, knocking it over in his haste to get to her.
she's too out of it to really comprehend what's happening before she's mewling out, thighs quivering almost violently as his tongue is suddenly thick and hot against her pussy. john swallows down her slick like a man starved, each curl and pull of his tongue full of her cream, and he rumbles deep in his chest like some kind of beast. his large, meaty hands grip the fat of her hips almost bruisingly as he devours her quivering cunt, her taste has him feral. she babbles mindlessly, her eyes rolled back; clit fat and stiff in his mouth.
and it takes him an hour or so to finally pull away from her pussy; she's a pile of overstimulated flesh, her plush little mouth parted and saliva dribbling down her chin, she looks like she's going to pass out but the only thing john does is push his thick, long cock into her pussy and fuck her into the carpet, her knees sliding and burning. this was a punishment after all.
Hii hope you're doing well!! Could you do one for the boys that have a vampire s/o?
The idea has me giggling and kicking my feet 🤭
A/n: I genuinely LOVE this idea, so expect more posts with vampire spouse
Main Masterlist | COD Main Masterlist
Price
The man swears he’s seen everything in his career… until you hissed at sunlight through the blinds and vanished under the duvet like a burnt marshmallow.
Keeps blackout curtains in the whole house now. “Looks like we’re livin’ in a bloody submarine.”
He doesn’t even flinch at your feeding habits. If you need blood, he’s calm about it. “Take what you need, love. I’ve been shot worse.”
The first time you bit him mid-kiss, he went, “Oi— warn a man next time, yeah?” but didn’t actually stop you.
Calls you “his nightshade” when you’re both alone. Smokes cigars on the balcony while you perch next to him, fangs catching moonlight.
The rest of the team thinks he’s aging backwards because he looks too well-rested lately. Little do they know your nightly feeding keeps his blood circulation immaculate.
Ghost
Doesn’t bat an eye. You could tell him you sleep in a coffin and he’d just grunt, “More legroom than a bunk.”
Secretly loves that you’re always cold — he likes resting his hand against your cool skin after missions when he’s overheated.
He caught you once sipping from a bagged blood pouch in the kitchen and just said, “You couldn’t’ve put that in a mug? Looks like you’re drinkin’ Capri-Sun for psychos.”
You tried to bite him once. He stared at you silently through the mask. “You sure you wanna risk that, love? I bite back.”
You two have an odd bedtime dynamic: he’s the shadow; you’re the night itself. When he wakes from nightmares, you’re already awake, tracing his heartbeat like it’s your favorite sound.
Soap
At first? He thought you were joking. Until you actually turned a wine glass full of blood and went, “Cheers.”
Screamed. Out loud. Then immediately asked, “...Wait, so does that mean you sparkle or burn?”
You chased him around the house hissing just to mess with him. He low-key loved it.
He keeps garlic in the pantry “just in case” — not to ward you off, but to feed you drama.
Makes every pun. “You’re suckin’ the life outta me” — “Thirsty for me again, eh?” — “Careful, love, my blood’s 90% caffeine.”
When you nuzzle his neck and your fangs graze him, he freezes, grinning. “Go on then, make me yer snack.”
Gaz
Curious and cautious. The kind who’ll research vampire biology at 3 AM just to understand you better.
Buys you sunscreen with SPF 900 “just to try.”
If you so much as blink at someone’s neck during a mission debrief, he gives you a quiet side-eye. “Don’t even think about it.”
Keeps you on a strict “consent feeding” rule — he’s willing, but not if you sneak it in.
Loves watching you move in low light — says you look like liquid shadow.
When you purr near his pulse, he goes completely still, but then chuckles, “Alright, fine. Just don’t turn me, yeah? I ain’t ready for eternal taxes.”
Alejandro
Oh he thrives on it. Calls you mi vampirita or mi oscurita.
Says it’s “sexy” that you could kill him but don’t. “Makes me feel special.”
Keeps red roses around just because he likes the aesthetic with your fangs and pale skin.
He’ll let you feed off him sometimes — dramatic about it, of course. “Go on, mi amor… take my life force… oh— wait— gently, gently!”
Brings you cold bottled blood from the base cafeteria like it’s a romantic offering. “For my queen of the night.”
His soldiers have learned not to question why their Colonel’s neck sometimes has mysterious marks under the collar.
Graves
The second you told him, he blinked once and said, “So… you’re tellin’ me my wife runs on premium red?”
Didn’t freak out, just started making practical plans: blackout curtains, refrigerated storage, “fang-safe” toothbrushes.
When you get too hungry and your eyes glow, he teases: “Better not look at me like that when I’m wearin’ white, darlin’.”
Once joked he’d start a BBQ joint and name it “Stake & Fang.”
You caught him trying to sharpen a wooden spoon once. “Emergency prep,” he said, stone-faced.
But every night before bed, he lays beside you, tracing your cold hand with his thumb. “Guess I’m the only man who sleeps next to death and calls it heaven.”
König
At first he thought your late-night habits were just insomnia — until he woke up one night to find you drinking from a blood bag like it was Capri-Sun.
He froze mid-blink. “…Mein Gott… you’re serious?”
Didn’t scream, didn’t run — just stared, wide-eyed behind the hood, then asked:
“Do you… brush your fangs? Like teeth?”
After you explained everything, he became obsessively careful with you — always checking if you’re fed, if you’ve slept, if you’re cold (you’re always cold).
He brings you his hood to sleep in because it “holds his warmth.”
If you ever get hungry while cuddling, he immediately tilts his head. “You can bite me, schatz… just… not too deep, ja?”
Then flinches anyway and blushes so hard when you actually do it.
He once fainted when you bit him a little too well. You had to tuck that mountain of a man into bed.
Keeps rosaries and crosses around the house not to protect himself - he thinks they look pretty on you.
When you get grumpy or restless at night, he just whispers, “Komm, meine Fledermaus (come, my little bat)” and pulls you into his arms.
He sleeps half the night with your head on his chest and your fangs grazing his neck, just so you can hear his heartbeat.
“If it helps you sleep,” he says softly, “then take it.”
(unedited) captain price nsfw alphabet with p-links, 𝒶⸺𝓏
𝒜 = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) : john, as i've stated before, is very touchy. he likes having his hands on you in any way that he can. so he'll pull you to his chest as the two of you catch your breath and run his hands along your body, pressing kisses to the crown of your hairline. you usually end up dozing off before john does and so he takes the initiative to grab a warm, damp cloth and clean up the mess of cum between your thighs. after he's done, he'll hop right back into bed and pull you flush to his body, sliding his hands along the expanse of your thighs and counting each beauty mark and mole along your body in the dim lighting of the room until he eventually falls asleep. [connected to this post and this one as well!]
𝐵 = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) : john's favorite body part of his would have to be his hands. they're big and calloused from work and he enjoys gently grasping your hips with them when he pulls you in for a slow kiss. he also adores how much you love them as well, his hands swamping yours whenever the two of you interlock fingers with each other. now john has an obsession with your lips, for him, they convey your emotions much better than words ever could. he can tell when you're annoyed with him by the purse of your lips. can tell when you're feeling shy by the slight upturn of the corner of your mouth. can tell when you're being sassy and sarcastic with the cute smirk that'll grace your lips and also when you're feeling sad by the way your lips curl in on themselves to form a line, and perhaps that's not a body part but it's his absolute favorite.
𝒞 = cum (anything to do with cum basically... i’m a disgusting person) : john's cum is pearl white in color and it's sticky and thick and there's always so much of it when he cums for the first time. the taste of his cum is slightly salty but it's not overbearing, you love the taste of him. price prefers to cum inside of you rather than anywhere else, this only started after john saw you holding your friend's newborn baby in your arms, it's been john's mission to impregnate you since then. [connected to this post!]
𝒟 = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) : it's no secret that john is older than you, there's an obvious age gap and some people may sneer at your relationship (as you're in your mid to late twenties and john is thirty-seven.) during playful banters between you and john, your go-to "insult" is always, "old man", "yes, daddy." or something along those lines. and despite himself, price always finds that he's thick and hard in his pants. he won't ever tell you that though.
𝐸 = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) : okay, price isn't the type to sleep around, he's had some occasional flings here and there, but that's about it. that doesn't mean he's inexperienced though, john puts in work. he studies your reactions and what you like. a delicious roll of his hips has him hitting that spongey little spot inside of you. licking his thumb before planting it on your clit to rub quick figure eights, has your thighs shaking and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer, and whispering lewd things in your ear and kissing you all sloppily in his pussy drunk state? has your cunt leaking all over the place. john price knows how to fuck and make love, he's perfect.
𝐹 = favorite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) : hm, john's favorite position is called the 'g-whiz' it's a stupid name lowkey but it gives him the perfect view to watch your face as you fall apart over and over on his cock. it also gives him access to your g-spot and your clit as well. three birds with one stone (he loves watching your tits bounce too.)
𝒢 = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) : it's a mix. there are times when the two of you are going at it like bunnies and perhaps bump heads a bit too hard. or maybe one of you trips while pulling off a piece of clothing-- there's going to be obvious laughter. during softer sex, where john's thrusts are deep and rolling, slow and intimate--- his gaze is always so full of his adoration for you and it leaves you breathless at times. he kisses gently, whispering words of love to you and smiling at the tears that sting your eyes. so yeah, he's a mix.
𝐻 = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) : john, before he met you, wasn't really sexually active, and so he didn't keep up with grooming himself, there was no need for him to. he was out in the field for weeks on end at a time and when he was off the field all he wanted to do was relax and sleep as much as he could before he had to go back out for another mission. after he met you, however, he wanted to groom himself. not that you seemed to care, nor had you ever complained. but he did it anyways. so, price's hair is brown, nicely trimmed, with no scraggly hairs in sight.
𝐼 = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) : please, john is madly in love with you and he himself knows it and he loves to make it known to you often, even outside of sex. price loves keeping eye contact with you, whether it's through a mirror, while you're riding him, or in any other position that allows the two of you to be face to face. he loves watching the small ticks in your expression as he grinds his hips into yours, cock sinking into you at the most excruciatingly slow pace he's ever gone. loves the way your cheeks flush and your cunt squeezes him when he calls you his, "pretty girl." this man also says 'i love you' often, and it's always so genuine, you never grow tired of hearing him say it. (he definitely doesn't kiss your chin when you give him an annoyed pouty look at his slow pace, he definitely doesn't apologize and speed up either.)
𝒥 = jack off (masturbation headcanon) : i find it hard to picture price masturbating, but i believe he does so when he's away from home for weeks on end, but it's not mindless masturbation like most men are prone to doing. john, when he's away from you for long periods of time, gets almost…needy?? in a way. this man misses you like no other, he misses the smell of you, your loving touches, your smile, your cooking, you pulling him to the living room floor to dance, your horrible singing when the two of you shower together and god he misses the sound of your voice. and this feeling is all so new to him and it's almost overwhelming.
so when price has the downtime, he calls you, it's a spur-of-the-moment call and when you pick up, he can hear the thickness of sleep in your voice; he feels selfish and a bit foolish, he was acting like a horny teenager. however, after hearing the excitement in your voice and the surprise, he can only smile and ask how everything has been at home. who would've thought that the sound of your voice, all sleepy and soft would get him hard and thick within his cargos? who also would've thought that john price would unzip himself to pull out his rigid cock, tip leaking with pearlescent pre-cum and pulsing in his large hand. yes, john ends up fucking his fist to the sound of your voice, humming and grunting softly to signify that he's listening to you, thighs tensing and heart hammering in his ribcage. i mean, what you don't know won't hurt you.
𝒦 = kink (one or more of their kinks) : hear me out, roleplay, please! wait, think about it, perhaps it's not full-on roleplay but it's something of the sort, john gets a raging boner when you call him 'captain price' mockingly or 'sir'. another would have to be breeding, john wants to knock you up so bad it's almost an obsession, would love to see you swollen with his child, most definitely says something along the lines of. "good girl, wan' t'get you pregnant so bad. you'd like that, hm?" during sex. a mild voice kink? loves the sound of your voice and almost always cums instantly when you beg him to fill you up.
𝐿 = location (favorite places to do the do) : don't really see john being too much of an exhibitionist but the two of you have had sex outside at a park, while on a picnic. you had crawled into his lap and kissed him softly, pleadingly, blinking your pretty little lashes at him and i mean; who is he to say no to your greedy little cunt? however, he prefers to do it in the comfort of your shared home. ♡
𝑀 = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) : your teasing. whether it be playful or sexual it always riles price up. it's one of the many things that he loves about you, your sense of humor. and you express it well, not just through your actions or your words but also through your eyes, they're always so expressive and glittering with light mischief that he can't help but sweep you off your feet, throw you over his shoulder, and carry you into the bedroom.
𝒩 = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) : hurting you in any way, there are some things he's a bit lenient on if you like it; like choking and light slapping but other than that, it's a no for price. man loves you too much to do anything of the sort.
𝒪 = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) : as much as john loves having his cock buried down your throat, watching as you stare up at him with tear-stained cheeks, your mouth and chin covered in spit and his cum— he enjoys eating you out. he loves the taste of you on his tongue, loves to overstimulate you, loves to control your orgasms, loves to hear you beg and roll your hips on his tongue. if john could he'd spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs, large hands gripping the fat of your hips to keep you still as your thighs quiver and your pussy pulses from being too sensitive, he would. well shit, i guess that should be one of john's kinks too then, huh?
𝒫 = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) : price is usually slow and sensual, with fervent deep strokes, tender kisses, and whispered murmurs of love. what can he say? he loves showing that he loves you in all that he does. however, on the days when he comes home after a mission gone awry or being away for a long time in general, he's gonna be fast and rough; using your body any way he pleases. on days like this, he prefers you in 'doggy style' or even the 'mating press', and immediately gives you cuddles afterward though, telling you briefly of his mission as you run your hands through his hair. ♡
𝒬 = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) : hm, john isn't one for quickies, i mean he doesn't mind a quickie, the park sex that the two of you had was a quickie after all. but i believe he much prefers proper sex, that way he can pull orgasm after orgasm from you and take his time as well.
𝑅 = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) : john is down to try something at least once, especially if it's something that you want to try. not too long ago, you handcuffed price to the bed and edged him until he had literally begged you to let him cum, it was quite the sight and he's down to do it again.
𝒮 = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) : give this man two good rounds, and then he's tuckered out. however he doesn't mind if you're still reeling to go, he'll pull you onto his lap and let you ride him until you're sated. or even make you ride his face, he could never deny you anything after all.
𝒯 = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) : y'all hear me out once more....vibrating panties. rahhhh, hold on hold on. you guys use it when you're out on walks, at restaurants and sometimes even at dinners with your friends. man gets bricked up at the sight of you squeezing your thighs together, breathless and completely out of it. however, in the bedroom, price is all you need, the man is much better than any toy.
𝒰 = unfair (how much they like to tease) : teases you often, whether it be with overstimulation, ruining your orgasms, or even having you beg him to let you cum. the man, believe it or not, likes to see your eyes water and your lips pout. loves that he can get his sassy, fiery wife all squirmy and pleading with just a few strokes of his tongue.
𝒱 = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make) : john is not shy, he'll tell you how good you're making him feel, not with just his deep, guttural groans, but also with words. price is the king of dirty talk and he does it unknowingly, he most definitely curses when he's moaning as well, drawn out 'fucks' and at when your pussy squeezes him tight, he'll say. "shit, sweetheart y'r pussy s'made for me." calls you the lewdest names known to man, but says it so lovingly that you can't help but be turned on even more than you already are.
𝒲 = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) : has definitely had you suck him off while underneath his desk while on a computer call with laswell. poor baby, his face was pink from holding in his moans, especially after you buried him to the hilt down your throat. totally didn't get caught or anything.
𝒳= x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) : the picture speaks for itself. ♡
𝒴 = yearning (how high is their sex drive?) : you guys, price is 37, atp? he's 40, it may not be as it used to be when he was younger but! he puts in the work and most times tires you out before he tires out.
𝒵 = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward) : it takes awhile for price to succumb to sleep, no matter how tired he is. so it's usually you falling asleep first. he lays there, holding you close and running his hands along your back and then further. he'll drift off to the sound of your slow breathing and the steady rhythm of your heart. ♡
૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : the full alphabet! ahem, i enjoyed doing this
The night was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt earned. The hum of the old radiator in the corner, the faint whistle of the wind brushing past the windowpanes. Outside, the street was still — their little slice of safety carved out after years of chaos.
John’s arm was heavy and warm across your waist, his breath slow against the back of your neck. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and calm beneath your palm where your hand rested over his. It was one of those nights where everything finally felt right — the two of you tucked into each other, cocooned in soft blankets and the lingering scent of laundry soap and pine from the candle you’d lit earlier.
You drifted somewhere between sleep and dreams, body loose and at peace, until everything shattered in an instant.
John jerked upright with a violent gasp, the sound tearing through the stillness. Sheets tangled, his breath came fast — ragged, animal, terrified. You barely had time to register it before you heard the metallic click of the bedside drawer, the glint of metal catching the streetlight through the curtain.
“John—” you rasped, voice rough with sleep.
But he was already moving, the training kicking in before consciousness had caught up. The pistol was in his hands, the barrel trembling as his chest heaved. Sweat glistened on his forehead, eyes unfocused — seeing something that wasn’t there, somewhere far away, where you couldn’t reach him yet.
Your heart hammered in your chest, not from fear of him, but for him. You knew that look. You’d seen it on the worst nights — when the past found its way into your bed.
“John,” you said again, quieter this time, gentler. “It’s me, love. You’re safe.”
He flinched at your voice. The gun wavered — pointed squarely at you now, your bare chest exposed in the moonlight. You forced yourself not to move too fast, not to tense. Every instinct screamed at you to freeze, but you couldn’t leave him lost in that nightmare alone.
“Look at me, Price,” you whispered, inching closer, your palms slowly rising so he could see they were empty. “It’s me. You’re home.”
His breathing hitched, a strangled noise caught in his throat. His eyes darted around — scanning, searching — but not seeing. You swallowed hard, heart aching.
“You’re not there,” you murmured, voice low and steady, the same tone you used when patching him up after long missions. “You’re not in the desert. You’re not in that room. You’re in our bed. Our home. With me.”
You moved an inch closer, slow enough to give him time to process each shift. Your hand came up — trembling, but sure — to wrap around the barrel of the gun. His knuckles were white, muscles locked in survival mode.
“Easy, John. Breathe with me, yeah?” you said softly. “In… and out.”
He hesitated. A flicker of awareness passed through his eyes — confusion, then fear, then a fragile recognition. You could see the war behind his gaze, reality and nightmare wrestling for control.
“Love,” you whispered, using the name only you ever called him. “It’s me. Please. You’re safe.”
Finally — finally — his grip faltered. The gun lowered, the weight of it shifting as you carefully took it from his hands, setting it on the nightstand out of reach. His chest was still heaving, breath sharp and uneven. You reached up, resting your hand against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.
His skin was clammy, his body trembling. He blinked hard, eyes darting over your face like he was counting features, checking each one off a mental list until he could believe it was really you.
“Christ,” he croaked, voice breaking. “I almost—”
“Shh.” You shook your head, leaning forward until your forehead pressed to his. “You didn’t. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
He shuddered, a sob caught somewhere deep in his chest as his arms finally came around you — desperate, crushing, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. You held him back just as tight, running your hands up and down his back, whispering soft reassurances into his hair.
“You’re safe,” you murmured again and again, the words like a lullaby. “You’re home, John. I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”
Gradually, his breathing began to slow, the tremors in his hands easing. He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes red-rimmed, his expression open and raw.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered, voice cracking around the words.
“I know,” you said. “I know, love.” You brushed your thumb across his cheek. “You were just dreaming. Nothing’s going to hurt you here.”
He nodded faintly, though his gaze lingered on your chest — on the pale scars that cut across it. His hand came up, tracing the edges gently with a reverence that made your throat tighten.
“Always forget how strong you are,” he murmured, fingers ghosting over the healed skin. “You’ve been through hell too.”
You smiled softly, covering his hand with yours. “That’s why we make a good team.”
He huffed a weak laugh, the sound muffled against your shoulder as he settled back down. You pulled the blankets over both of you again, his body curling around yours protectively even as exhaustion dragged him back under.
You stayed awake a little longer, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the faint crease between his brows easing bit by bit. You pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered one last time:
“You’re home, John. I’ve got you.”
The gun stayed where it was, untouched. The house was quiet again — peaceful, finally — and this time, when sleep came for both of you, it was gentle.
The fact I dispise seeing certain headcanons about Price where he doesn't understand technology at all? And they call him old too?
Like... He's in the military, the SAS I know for sure he would be kept up to date fully of all of the newst gadget, always researching and learning... Price is fucking intelligent as hell.
Price is 37 THIRTY SEVEN, for crying out loud that isn't even old. If you think that's old then... Idk
