I Need John Price To Put Me In A Chokehold And Prone Bone Me. Sorry

It's so crazy to me when people write John Price as old and incapable of understanding technology because this man is literally in the special forces. I think not knowing how technology works would be a huge hindrance to his career lol. I live near a military base and have met a few service members who are Price's age or older and they are usually better with technology than I am lol. But yet I'll still see people writing in fics that Price likely needs help to send texts because he doesn't understand it.

For real. He's probably super savvy with tech. I mean all that gear they use, night vision, heat vision and all sorts of things.

I think it must come from young writers, when you're like 18-20 someone almost 40 is "old".

I'm in no way trying to dissuade people from writing for him or him being the older man in the x reader story, I just find it a bit frustrating and unrealistic that people write someone his age as some bumbling idiot with technology and other modern parts of life.

please PLEASE Can you write reader ovulating with Simon Riley, his dick would hurt by the end.

what happens to simon riley when you're ovulating (his dick would fall off if it were me tbh)

your sex life with simon is already active as is, so the moment you start ovulating, he's in trouble. serious trouble. you can barely keep yourself off of him. everything he does sends a throbbing want to your pussy.

manspreading? you're already on top of him, tugging his jeans down just enough to ride his heavy cock. his big hands find purchase on your hips, grunting lowly.

"fuckin' eager, huh?" he's only half hard by the time you're bouncing on him, and you don't get off until either of you can't speak, and you've ruined yet another pair of his jeans from the amount of slick and cum that stains the fabric.

rolling up his sleeves, seeing the way his forearms and veins flex? you're begging him to finger you, and he gladly listens.

"need me t'fuckin' fill ya full, don't ya?" bent over whatever surface of your house, stuffed full of his fingers knuckle deep as your walls clench around him. one orgasm isn't enough, two, three, four, five until you're babbling incoherently and spraying the front of his shirt with your release.

the thing men do when they reverse, placing one hand behind the passenger seat? belt, GONE. you make hasty work of his jeans just so you can suck his dick as he drives—bonus points if he's still reversing. half-way laid across the center console with a face-full of his throbbing cock, already leaking pre. he's a mess, whimpers spilling from his lips as he bites down on the plush flesh. he's pulling your panties to the side, burying three fingers deep in your cunt with ease at the sheer wetness of your pussy.

him, reading with glasses? you bet he isn't taking his eyes off a single page as he ruts into you from behind, book laid across your back slick with sweat. he might be a little mean, make you fuck yourself back on his dick, balls slightly slapping your clit enough to make your eyes roll back into your head. get a drop of cum on his book, and he'll punish you.

getting passionate about his interests? fuck in missionary so he can continue yapping as he toys with your clit and pounds into your throbbing cunt. his words are long lost on you—you don't even notice when his words start getting condescending.

"always gettin' in m'pants..." he grunts, the sound of skin slapping and mindless whimpers and mewls fill the room, "fuckin' slut, you tryin' to get pregnant? want me t'fill you? dirty whore..."

by the end of your ovulation phase, you might've definitely gotten knocked up, and his dick is no longer with us. (he still has his hands and face, ladies...)

something something being dragged to a bar by your friends for one of their birthday’s or something and being content enough to sit at the bar and read/write/whatever solitary thing while they go off to do their own thing

but you can feel someone sit next to you and when you turn to look he has the most piercing blue eyes and oddest hair cut you’ve ever seen but— if someone forced you to admit it, you’d say he’s cute at least.

anyway johnny of course tries to woo you and take you home with him that night but you cut him and his attempts off with a good natured laugh,

“heh, i’m sorry, but i only sleep with my husband. i don’t do romantic flings.”

“but ye don’ ‘ave a ring?”

“mhm, i’m not married yet.”

“yer single?”

“that’s right.”

and now he’s even more determined to get you home and covet you all to himself, for someone so sweet can’t possibly be adored by anyone else but him.

(it’s a problem when his task force’s eyes start to wander to you, though.)

Would you sit beside my dead body knowing a bomb was about to go off? Would you accept your fate to lay with me in the stars forever?

if i see one more post about headcannons that exclude gaz and replace him with könig, i'm gonna lose my marbles

⇧ this user is a whore for a fake marriage trope between price & reader for a mission

The torment on soap's face continues with more squish

He's starting to accept it

STOP CENSORING YOURSELF ON THIS WEBSITE. FUCK SHIT SEX MURDER ALCOHOL DRUGS FAGGOT DYKE QUEER TRANS BITCH SLUT WHORE SEX SEX SEX SEX!!!!!!!!!!!