“Old dog’s can’t learn new tricks, price” Soap would grin across the table. Ghost’s low chuckle followed like smoke. “Bet the missus is bored stiff, Captain.”
Price never rose to the clear ragebait in front of the boys, but the words..stuck. You were younger, gorgeous, and God— always eager for him… yet a small, ugly part of him wondered if they were right. He’d never exactly been the adventurous type in bed—solid, thorough, but not… inventive.
So he cornered Gaz one night after drills.
“Need a favor, Sergeant.”
Gaz raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”
Price rubbed the back of his neck, face already red with what he could only pin as embarrassment. “You’re good with the ladies. I want lessons. Real ones.”
Gaz blinked, then a slow, wicked grin spread. “You want a demonstration, Captain?”
Price’s jaw flexed. “Please..”
That’s how you ended up here—naked on the bed, thighs spread over Price’s lap while Gaz knelt between your legs like he’d been invited to dinner.
Price’s big hands were firm on your waist, keeping you pinned back against his chest. “She’s sensitive.” he muttered, almost clinical, but you could feel how hard he was against your lower back. “On with it, sergeant.”
Gaz’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry. “You ready for this, love?”
You nodded, already wet and aching just from the sheer thrill of the situation.
Gaz didn’t waste time. Two thick fingers slid through your folds, spreading you open. “First thing—don’t rush. Get her nice and wet.” He rubbed slow circles over your clit until your hips jerked, then pushed two fingers inside, curling just right.
Price watched every movement like it was a briefing.
“There’s a spongy spot here…” Gaz pressed upward deliberately causing your whole body to jolt. “Right there. That’s your target.”
He started pumping—steady, focused strokes that dragged over that spot again and again while his thumb kept pressure on your clit.
Price’s voice was rough in your ear. “Breathe, sweetheart. Let him work.”
Your orgasm built fast—embarrassingly so.
“That’s it..” Gaz praised, voice low. “She’s swelling up. See how she’s pulsing?” He added a third finger and the pressure inside became unbearable. “When she starts trying to close her legs, don’t let her. Keep going.”
Price’s hands moved to your thighs, holding them open. You came with a broken cry, but Gaz didn’t stop. He kept fingering you through it, rough and relentless, and suddenly everything felt tighter, hotter, like something was about to—
“There..” Gaz growled. “Let it go, lovely...”
With a whine, a gush of wetness flooded out around his fingers, soaking the sheets and his wrist. Price made a low, filthy sound behind you as he watched you squirt for the first time in your life.
Gaz eased his fingers out slowly, letting you ride the aftershocks, then lifted his soaked hand to show Price. “That’s the spot. Consistent pressure, curved fingers, and you don’t stop when she comes.. you keep going until she gives it to you.”
Price’s breathing was ragged. His cock was nearly throbbing against your back.
Gaz wiped his fingers on your inner thigh, then met Price’s eyes. “Your turn, Captain.”
Price shifted you forward, laying you down properly. He kissed the inside of your knee, voice low with promise.
Imagine sleepy cockwarming with John Price like UGH HOT.
You’re well and truly asleep in your bedroom when you hear the door creak open. You’d be more worried but you’re so comfy, you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much. Besides, more than likely, it’s just your partner, John.
You don’t even care when the intruder climbs on top of you and starts pulling down your bottoms.
You only start to care a little when you hear the sound of a zipper, but you immediately melt back into the bed at the familiar sound of John’s gravelly voice, mumbling into your ear.
“Shhh. Jus’ me, love.” He presses a kiss below your ear and you feel him slip inside your hole. Once he's fully inside, he drops his entire bodyweight on top of you, pressing deeper into you and nudging that one spot that especially makes you squirm.
"John.." You push your hips back into him and bury your face in the pillow.
He huffs, not moving except to press you further into the mattress, "G'back to sleep."
You wish you could squirm at least a little bit to get some more stimulation going, but you're completely stuck.
What makes it even worse is when he falls asleep and you just know that he won't be awake for another few hours.
Soap's mouth went dry the moment he saw you smiling, flushed and giggling with your husband Ghost, stunned at seeing such a beautiful woman up close, he had to blink and nudge Gaz, whose jaw practically hit the floor.
Price blinked, directly caught off guard the moment he saw Ghost give you a small, gentle smile which made you flutter and tuck away shyly.
Soap just couldn't help it, he smiled, all charming and nudged Ghost.
"Is your wife single?"
He teased, wiggling his eyebrows, the last thing he saw was your face turning concerned and Ghost's fist suddenly very close to his face.
...
"Huh?!, where am I?"
Soap sat up, wincing on the hospital bed, checking his surroundings stunned and not feeling a side of his face.
''the hospital mate'' Roach spoke amused.
Gaz was stifling a laugh, Price sighed, done with living and Ghost was on the corner like a scolded child while you looked over to Soap with a gentle, concerned expression.
"You walked into that one y'know?"
"Gaz shut up"
Which made Gaz directly burst in laughter, Price put a hand on his face, clearly done with this team and their amusing shit that always took a soft giggle out of you.
"Roach would agree with me"
Ghost grumbled on his side while you turned to look at him with a fake mad expression
it’s a known fact that price’s wife packs his lunch every day when he’s on desk duty. soap always used to ask what the “missus” had made, getting his hands on the box you have packed for your husband.
( nowadays, you pack enough for four hungry men anyway, you’ve seen how starved they are all the time, how they eat your sunday roast like a pack of wolves. )
today is no different, the little bento boxes are labelled. a little skull for ghost, a bar of soap for soap and a little hat for gaz. and your husband gets a bento box with a love note on it, like every day.
you always put something sweet in there, and he always takes the post it note and saves it in his desk drawer. it works, you’re shy as a mouse at the best of times, and writing these notes and making this food is the way you really show affection.
“your missus has outdone herself this time.” soap says, as he opens up the first box to the smell of steaming curry, probably butter chicken with the way it looks. the box underneath has small dumplings, john knows you’ve been obsessed with filling them yourself, the soup is completely your own recipe.
price blushes, face going red. he looks away to see ghost already hungrily going for the food with a spoon, the rice halfway complete. gaz is taking a photo, probably to send to his own girlfriend as inspo. you and her really get along.
johnny leans on simon’s shoulder, and nudges to split a dumpling.
it’s nice like this.
until he sees the folded up paper at the bottom of his final box, taped to the bottom.
he opens it, why wouldn’t he, there in the mess room.
he opens it, and slams it closed. not here.
it’’s a photo of you, angled, in the lingerie he brought you last month. pink and red, cherries littered on the straps. it’s lacy, and he hasn’t seen you wear it before.
he excuses himself to his office, his cock already painful from the glimpse. his hands hiding it as he shuffles into the room.
the locks clicks, and he takes his cock out, thick and heavy. and unfolds the photo.
it looks good. you look good, the lace cupping your boobs, cunt wet already. your hands tease your clit, and he’s so painfully hard from just looking at the photo.
february 14th. of course you’d do that. you’d be too shy to do anything at home but this? an image, you could do that for him.
his hands smear precum over his cock, and he starts rubbing it, desperate for relief. your cunt wouls be so fucking tight around him, but you aren’t here. you’re at home, twenty minutes away. and he has meetings.
it’s not long before he comes, with spurts of white cum that he tries to desperately keep a hold of. his hand doesn’t grip as hard as you, it’s not as warm as you, fucking hell.
he’ll fuck you right when he gets home. but for now the image of you is enough, teasing him.
no one really understands how it happened... how a man like john price - captain, composed, always ten steps ahead - ended up married to… you.
not that there’s anything wrong with you.
it’s just that you’re…
you lose things while actively holding them.
“john, have you seen my phone?” “…it’s in your hand” “…oh!” you don’t even look embarrassed. just relieved.
you’ll start telling a story.
get halfway through, “…wait what was i talking about?” and just laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever
you get distracted mid-task constantly.
you’ll be making tea, then somehow end up reorganising the sugar, then forget the tea entirely. price finds a cold cup sitting there 20 minutes later.
you misunderstand phrases but just roll with it
“we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it” “…cross” “…yeah that’s what i said”
you ask questions that genuinely make people pause
“if i drink water upside down, where does it go?” johnny will answer, “…your stomach??? “…huh”
because here’s the thing.
you are ditzy
but john fucking loves it.
he loves when you call him strong just because he opened a jar for you
like it’s the most impressive thing in the world.
he loves the way your eyes light up, all soft and fascinated, when he explains something simple like he’s just told you the secrets of the universe.
he loves when you get confused, that little crease in your brows
the way you tilt your head. “…this left?” and how you immediately relax when he corrects you
he loves when you get distracted. how you start one thing and end up somewhere completely different. how the house is full of half-finished tasks and soft little traces of you.
he also loves when you're fucked so dumb face first into the bed that you drool all over your pretty pillows.
he also loves when you're so fucked out you can barely think but your hips are instinctively moving back to meet his.
he also loves when that pretty little mouth of yours is finally being useful when he pushes his cock past your glossy lips.
he also loves when you go cross-eyed and your tongue lolls out of your mouth and your limbs start to shake.
most of all he loves that you need him! that he needs to be there to open your jars and explain things and find the things you've lost. you especially need him to dick you down so good you forget your own name!
All you can feel is John. The soft bristles of his beard rub against the nape of your neck. His hairy, warm body pressed against your back. His large, strong hands, one holding your thigh, the other gently squeezing your tits.
Soft, breathy moans escape you. John lazily fucks his cock into you. You could so easily fall asleep like this. It's just so comforting, being wrapped in John's arms. Of course, the way his cock rubs against your G-spot helps.
You squeak softly when John pinches your nipple, breaking you out of your haze. John laughs roughly in your ear.
"Can't have ya fallin' asleep on my cock, baby. Ah- fuck, ya feel good." John groans, steadily grinding his cock into you. "Yer doin' good, darling."
You moan, high and needy. John pulls your thigh back and over his, spreading you open for him, giving him access to your clit. He gently rubs, making sure that you feel good, too.
Your orgasm sneaks up on you with no warning. You convulse, choking on whines. John fucks you through it, gently, slowly. He's not even fucking you, really. He's making love to you.
John spills inside you with a strangled groan, and he stays there. You let him. It's a Saturday anyway, you can afford a nap.
Referring to the the 141 guys as your boyfriend for the first time - how they would react
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
He's sitting on the couch, sketchbook in his lap and a pencil resting in his hand. He's been working on a new sketch of you for the last hour.
Meanwhile, you're across from him, scrolling on your phone.
All of a sudden, you nudge his foot with yours, "Babe, babe, babe." You launch yourself on top of him, shoving your phone in his face, "Look at this."
He has to squint to see what you're trying to show him. The text on the screen says 'Show this to your boyfriend-' but he's too busy completely ignoring the second part of the meme, instead focusing on the 'boyfriend' part.
"Boyfriend?" He grins and pulls you into him, letting his sketchbook and pencil drop off to the side.
"What?" You frown and look back at your phone, then back at him.
"Ye called me boyfriend." He skims his hand up and down your back, "Ye've never called me it before." He nuzzles your head, "Ah'm yer boyfriend." He coos happily.
"Yes, yes you are." You roll your eyes, but snuggle into him, happy that he's happy.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle and you are at a bar on a date. It's not his typical choice for a date night but your dates always tended to be pretty spur of the moment, just like your relationship.
"Sorry, I have a boyfriend." Kyle could hear you talking to the bartender, "That's him, right over there." You point your finger over your shoulder. When you see his eyes on you, you smile and wave.
Immediately, he's out of his seat and next to you. He wraps his arm slightly around your waist, leaning into you, "Hey, dove." He smiles. The bartender quickly and thankfully slips away.
You turn into him, "Was that necessary?"
"Yup." He kisses your cheek, "They were flirting with you."
"Yeah, they were. You worried?"
"Mmm." He pretends to think about it for a moment then shakes his head with a grin, "Why would I be worried? You called me your boyfriend. No guy could be worried after that."
"Don't be so smug, Kyle." You slip out from under his arm.
He grabs the drinks off the bar and follows after you, "Bit hard not to be after that show!"
You flip him off and he can only grin in response.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Not once in his life had Simon ever expected to be called 'boyfriend'. It was a totally new experience for him.
"M'home." He calls out as he slips through the front door of your shared flat. Your cat immediately comes to greet him by weaving in through and around his ankles.
"Hey! There's my handsome boyfriend!" You pop your head into the entrance hall with a grin. You slip your arms around him, "Hi."
He swears he feels his heart actually skip a beat at your words as he struggles to process them properly, "Hi," He mumbles.
"How was your day?" You tug him further into the flat, apparently not having noticed what you said.
He blinks slowly, then shrugs, "Was good, I guess." He rubs a hand on the back of his neck, then decides to just broach the subject, "your...boyfriend?" He feels like he's shouting and whispering all at the same time.
"That's you. My boyfriend." You coo, even as you lean down and pick up the cat at your feet, waving the cat's paws around. You stop when you finally see his face, "Something wrong, Si?"
He forces himself to shake his head, swallowing, "No- Not a thing." He ducks his head to hide the flush he knows is spreading down his neck and walks off. He doesn't want to let you see how much you affect him. You'll never let him live it down.
But at the same time, he hopes he'll never forget your face when you greeted him. He'll die happy if he only gets to see that look every day for the rest of his life.
Captain John Price
As always, John is an old man. It doesn't even occur to him to call himself your boyfriend because it feels like something a lovesick teenager would label their first relationship. That's probably why it surprises him so much when you do it.
You're in the living room when you say it while you're on the phone with one of your friends. John is in his office doing paperwork when he hears it.
"Yeah, John, my boyfriend-"
At first, he swears he misheard you, so he ignores it.
Then you laugh and say it again, "Yeah, he's the best boyfriend I think I've ever had. I might marry him actually." You must think he's not listening. Or you do and you just don't care.
He almost chokes on his tea from the shock. Then he starts looking for engagement rings.
If you're gonna marry him, he might as well be on the same page.
