After a long day at work, Nik likes to get Price to unwind in his lap, listening to the Captain vent his frustrations while softly finger fucking him. He loves seeing Price’s thick thighs straddling him, the grip he held to keep himself from shaking too much. Nik always had him though, a gentle hand guiding soft hips closer before snaking up his back and pulling him in for a kiss. Price felt spoiled beyond repair for the cards having dealt him such an amazing man.
Price🚬: Transportation logs were- oh fuck, ngghh…
Nik🚁: Use your words моя любовь, try again for me.
Price🚬: The ngggh- logs were incorrectly dated, oh fuck Nik! And I- I spent the afternoon re-filing th-them-mmnh…
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During his Lieutenant days, Price was definitely caught jerking off by MacMillan, the first time being a complete accident. Still awake after a tense mission and emergency evac, he was simply relieving stress, not expecting anyone of consequence to hear him at 2:00am. Macmillan, just as rattled as his Lieutenant, had been pacing the halls and Price was- particularly loud when he was a younger lad. Macmillan wanted to hear more of those pretty sounds, despite knowing what taboo things the higher ups might think. He almost chuckled at the way Price scrambled to hide himself upon hearing the click of the door, and seeing his commanding officer staring at him with no clothes on. He couldn’t pull the sheets over fast enough before the man was sat at the edge of his bed, pulling them back.
“Today stressed you out, aye John?”
A beat of silence, Price trying to hide the way his legs shook when he answered.
“Y-yeah- Mmhhm, sorry. Yes Sir…”
Macmillan didn’t care about formalities when it came to Price, still, he found it admirable the lad was trying to keep professional despite the position he found himself in.
“I was worked up too lad, clearly not as much as you.”
“Sir I-”
“Shh, lay back down boy…”
“Ok…”
Price was speechless, in awe of how Macmillan took what he wanted and when he wanted, consequences be damned. He felt powerless to do anything but comply to the much larger, more muscular man who was now hovering above him. He shifted and gulped nervously, the sheets now completely off the bed, exposing his half hard cock and quivering knees which Mac placed a settling hand over. Mac ran his hand up Prices thighs until he reached up and gripped the base of his cock, making the Lieutenant gasp and hic.
“Can’t have my Lieutenant worked up like this can I? Need you sharp lad, so I’m gonna take care of ye. I’m not blind son, I’ve seen the way you look at other lads, at me… I’d be lying if I said I’ve never entertained the thought… If you want me to stop, squeeze my hand twice.”
Needless to say, MacMillan got a lot more of those pretty noises from Price until he was shooting blanks. He held the lads legs open anytime he tried clamping shut, teased his nipples as he came down from each orgasm, and cleaned him up after the 4th one. Price was a sweaty, shocked mess, unable to process what just happened, only floaty feeling like he’d just taken ecstasy. Mac didn’t redress him, Price thought it could’ve been a power play until Mac shifted him over and got in the bed, tossing a leg over Prices waist and pulling him close to his chest. He felt the kiss on the back of his head, and the encouragement whispered in his ear.
“You did so good today John, my John. You made me proud, you always make me proud son. Try and get some sleep now, I’ll keep you warm.”
~~~
Yeah idk I feel like this was the start of a lot of Prices kinks. I haven’t posted in a while and felt guilty so here y’all go, not my best work but I’ll get back in the groove after vacation next week.
Realistically, if Soap survived, he’d still be dealing with major head trauma and all the nasty effects coming with it. I feel like seizures would not be an exception, so the team adapts, learns to handle them. Once discharged from the hospital, Soap was prescribed Keppra to help the seizures but due to the severity of the injury, it could only help so much…
Price had the most prior experience with seizures, having seen numerous on the field and having worked with soldiers with epilepsy before, though they worked more from an office than on the field. Soap was different, they couldn’t risk being unprepared if he seized during a mission, which Price had reduced in the meanwhile so he could acclimate slowly. He taught Ghost and Gaz how to spot and help if Soap had an episode, and the three became his “PTE Pit Crew” as the Sergeant would joke.
Ghost spent the most time with Johnny, and got used to the tells; the way he’d go quiet or start to slur his words in the middle of talking, the far off gazes at seemingly nothing, and the smacking of his lips like he was chewing on 5 pieces of gum at once. The aura phase became easy to spot, and Ghost could usually convince the stubborn Sergeant from his chair to somewhere safe and quiet. Typically, he’d take Soap to his quarters or Prices office, whichever was in closer proximity at the time.
Price never needed a debrief, he could always see it in the lads expressions when they came hobbling in. Ghost would unwrap his arm from Johnnys waist and lay him onto the office couch, where Price would settle him into a safe, recovery position with a pillow under his head before calling Gaz to bring Soaps medical bag from his quarters. The seizures always started the same, rolled back eyes and head jerks before he’d start stuttering incoherently and drooling. Ghost was always quick to wipe away Johnnys saliva before he could aspirate on it. There was no glamour in it, certainly no dignity (in Soaps mind at least) but it was his reality now, and the team would be damned if they ever let Soap feel embarrassed or lesser than for it. They never complained or made him relive those uncomfortable moments, only ever saying how stellar he was for fighting through such hell with such a strong heart. There wasn’t much to be done while waiting for Gaz beyond keeping Soaps airway clear and keeping him from hurting himself. The team had seen it during particularly bad episodes, sudden jerking of his limbs hitting something or himself, his head banging off a hard surface and causing migraines, or his body thrashing so hard he felt sore and exhausted for days after. They never wanted to see those days again. Ghost kept time, the 90 second mark being about when Gaz showed up. He’d done a surprising amount of ‘EMT esque’ work back on the police force, and it came in handy for times like these. He had experience administering oxygen, setting up cannulas, and most importantly, deescalating situations with irritated or confused patients. A post ictal Soap was both in this situation, and getting medication in him could be difficult. After a rough seizure, it was typically Ghost putting Ativan under his tongue when they knew Soap couldn’t swallow yet. More often than not however, they had to resort to IV sedation, leaving him knocked out on the couch for at least a couple hours. Anytime the post seizure apnea showed its ugly face, Price rubbed his back and patted (good old Price pat™️) until he gasped back to a steady breathing rhythm.
They all stayed, providing their own reassurances to Soap, even if he couldn’t hear yet. Ghost absentmindedly massaged his temples while Price and Gaz went to grab coffee for the three, a long night awaited them. In the brief time Ghost had alone with Johnny, he took the opportunity to fuss over him and pull up his mask to kiss the top of his head. Everyone knew of their relationship but he wasn’t one for public displays of affection.
They’d also quickly learned to decipher whatever slurred nonsense came from the sergeant upon waking. Like how the groaning of…
“Auughh… wththhll… hppnd… whrmi…”
Could be translated to…
“Auughh, what the hell happened? Where am I?”
He was still a perfectly capable soldier, still Johnny, when his meds cooperated and he kept his noggin safe at least. Although none of them liked seeing the massive scar on his temple, they liked seeing their teammate alive.
~~~
Oh my God I need to stop typing but I may make another part to this with full dialogue amongst the team. Ohhhh post Makarov TBI Soap, how you have my heart…
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Omegaverse but the alphas are also capable of producing milk, but only for their omega(s).
When an omega is claimed and bonded by their alpha, both body chemistries are changed. An omegas scent becomes stronger, more distinct to their alpha, with new variations signifying their nutritional needs. The alphas body produces milk based off this, supplementing their omegas diet with whatever they weren’t receiving enough of. If their omega is getting too skinny, their milk will contain more fat, if they’re dehydrated, it will be more watered down. Feeding schedules vary greatly between bonded omegas, some needing hardly any in a month, some needing 3 a day, though their alpha could always tell when they were overdue for one.
I could speak more on this if anyone is interested but all this to say Omegaverse Poly141 where Price has all the lads gather in the communal nest after a long day for a feeding. They always fight over which two get to go first but everyone gets what they need.
Any excuse I can make to get the task force sucking on Prices nipples, I will make…
Exhibitionist NikPrice and Voyeur Taskforce headcanon where after a successful mission, Price rewards the lads by letting them watch as he gets railed by Nik. Nik delights in making the Captain expose all his pretty noises and beg for release with teary eyes and stuttered breath. Their favourite reward days however, are the days they get to watch Price riding Nik, muscled thighs working up and down as both men’s hips gyrate to get the perfect angle for release. Or the days they’d get to help Price finish as Nik pounded into him, each taking turns to stroke his fat, throbbing length until he made a mess in one of their faces. Nik tells Price to be good for him and clean his teammates up with his tongue, making him swallow every bit of his spend while keeping eye contact. It was the best incentive for their hard work on the field, and Price loved to give…
I could go on and on about this but yeah, this is what I be thinking about at 7:30am…
NikPrice Headcanon AKA John being self conscious about his weight and Nik having none of it.
~~~
I feel like Nik’s immediate goal upon John coming home for leave would be fattening him up as much as possible. He likes seeing the Captain a bit softer, fuller. He cooks a whole array of foods for Price, obviously beginning with the full English breakfast each morning. He did politely have to ask the 141 to watch what John ate on base, what he most preferred, and how he preferred it made. It’s why John smiles each time he sees the eggs perfectly runny, or his toast with blueberry jam on one slice and raspberry on the other. For the amount of chaos a single Russian man could accomplish, he was surprisingly calm and skilled in the kitchen. Price can do simple meals, on the run meals but Nik wants his man spoiled rotten while on leave.
He doesn’t let Price come into the kitchen unless it’s to taste test or to fondle Nik from behind while he fills Pirozhkis and heats up a soup broth for Pelemini. Price has grown fond of the surprisingly rich and savoury meals Mother Russia has to offer; making Nik beam ear to ear anytime he goes in for another bowl of Solyanka, or falls into a food coma on the couch after one too many slices of Medovik. He loves carrying Price to bed, feeling the added weight of his labour in the kitchen, of the love, attention, and caring he put into each meal. In the early days of their relationship, Price would get self conscious in the days leading back up to deployment, seeing the weight gain through an anxious and judgmental lens. Nik was fast to shut that mentality down with each night sat next to Price, feeding him through protest while providing soft reassurances and affirmation.
Nik🚁: Another bite Solnyshko, I know it’s your favourite.
Price🚬: I go back in 3 days Nik… I’ve already gained-
Nik🚁: Ax! нет, none of that my love. You are perfect…
Caught up in the panic of looking ‘fit enough’, Price always forgot how easily he could shed it off after only a couple months on base. He always returned home safe and sound; and far too skinny for Niks liking. Price is not surprised to see a dining room full of food upon his return. He is however, surprised to see Nik had invited the rest of the Task Force to join. It was presented to John as a celebratory dinner for another successful op, but it was really an excuse to get Price to eat more. It made things easier when he saw Soap begging for seconds, or when Ghost would have a literal mountain of food on his plate and inhale it like a vacuum, then there was Gaz who took every opportunity to wave food in Prices face tauntingly, like he was missing out on the best thing in the world. With Niks cooking, it was no exception, and he smiled watching Price finally pull the tray of Shashlik off the grill and take 3 for himself.
I’ve been so busy moving and packing, and haven’t had the time to post anything recently. Hopefully once I’m in my new house, I can start to post more.
The best I can offer in these trying times however is a smutty PriceGaz thought I had the other day…
Price absolutely finger blasting Gaz until he’s a weeping, muttering mess, desperately humping the air and whimpering “Daddy-oh fuck-nggh, Dad please…”
Price had been jerking off with his other hand and came undone right then, spilling his load and mixing with Kyle’s; currently shot across his tummy.
Kyle all but melts at the afterglow praise, where he’s settled against his Prices chest, enjoying the indulgent yet sweet filth coming from the generally stoic Captain.
“Such a pretty and innocent little thing for a Sergeant, my Sergeant, my Kyle... My beautiful baby boy, you took daddy’s fingers so well, and those fucking whimpers and whines- God, they sounded like heaven. Let me get a good look at you my little one, so perfect for daddy…”
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Price is the kind of man who gets genuinely upset if you shave your bush. Don’t worry, he’ll still eat you out from dusk to dawn, it just isn’t the same… You roll your eyes any time he’s between your legs and lets out a sigh like he’s lost a loved one.
Y/N: sighs What is it now John?
Price🚬: I thought you cared about the environment love, I thought you cared about preserving nature…
Y/N: The hell does the environment have to do with you sucking my pus-
Price🚬: The deforestation love! Look at the deforestation. Baby, your perfect little hairy-
Y/N: Oh for the love of God John, it’s gonna grow back in like two weeks! Knowing me, probably one…
Price🚬: That’s still one week without your perfect rose garden…
Y/N: They aren’t all perfect. A rose has thorns.
Price🚬: Well yours certainly will now…
~~~
This has been a PSA brought to you by bushman! Price
Not a request, I just wanted to say that your post about opossum y/n was one of the best things I've read today, thank you! I owe you my firstborn. (˵>ᗜ<˵)
(I really lovee opossums.)
Thank you so much! And so sorry for the late response! I’ve been working on a collection of various hybrid soldiers and how their traits would come about in the 141. It’s been a super fun project researching different species. I’m torn on my next hybrid fic though… Should I write Y/N as a Lyrebird, or an Arctic Fox?
A more twisted take on my Exhibitionist! Price and Voyeur! Ghost Headcanon.
AKA
Price roughly fucking Soap in front of a tied up Ghost as punishment for insubordination…
Price🚬: So, you won’t listen to your Captain Simon… You can listen to your Sergeant instead.
Soap🧼: L.T- hnnghh, please… Sir it- it’s too big Sir! It h-hurts!
Price🚬: I’ll make it fit dove, you’ll get used to it, just like your Lieutenant might get used to following orders. Isn’t that right Simon?
He’s so taunting with his tone it drives Ghost mad. Were he not tied up to Prices office chair, he’d struggle between the choice of knocking out Price and getting his poor Johnny out of there, or tying Price up himself and showing him who the Sergeant really belonged to. He’d fuck him tenderly, gently, but with the passion of a man who sought nothing more than his partners own ecstatic pleasure and euphoria.
But, he was tied up to Prices office chair, watching Price fuck him hard and intense, with every inch pounding into Soap leaving him whimpering and teary eyed. Ghost couldn’t bear to see him in pain or in the arms of another man, so he just nodded obediently and mumbled with eyes locked onto Johnny, his Johnny…
Ghost👻: Yes Sir… Won’t happen again…
Price stopped immediately and slowly, carefully pulled out before running a tender hand over Soaps ass and whispering something in his ear. He helped the lad up and into his clothes before gently ushering him over to Ghost, who immediately takes him into his arms. Both were speechless and Ghost could only hold his Johnny close as Price led them out of his office with a final comment…
Price🚬: You’re a lucky lad with that one Lieutenant. He’s a tight little babe isn’t he? Stay in line and he can stay your tight little babe. Goodnight lads…
~~~
Full disclosure, I’m literally writing this on…
🌀✨🍄Mushrooms🍄✨🌀
Like I’m tripping right now and the peak has put me in a devious and creative mood so here you go…
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Thinking about Hybrid 141 and imagining being an opossum hybrid in the task force. Opossums play dead as a last resort to deter predators, however it’s more so an involuntary response where they simply pass out from fear.
The first time you played dead was during a mission where a bullet had whizzed by your skull, narrowly dodged by your frantic scrambling before you went limp on the ground, making it appear you’d been hit. Price was first by your side, unable to properly see or hear you breathe from how shallow it was. The rest of the team finished the firefight before they ran to your immobilized body. Your eyes and mouth remained slightly open. Soap was a Collie hybrid and could smell the scent of death off you the strongest, although it was feigned.
Soap🧼: Y/N! No… no no no FUCK! C’mon, stay with us Y/N!
Y/N: Whaa? They all down? Oh good, my eyes were starting to water from being open so long…
Price🚬: But you just- you were just- we saw you get shot! You fell to the floor in a fucking heap Y/N!
Y/N: Ohhhh that, yeah I fainted
Price🚬: You- wha? Fainted?
Gaz🧢: Mate, we just saw you get shot in the skull.
Y/N: Narrowly, it missed me by a fucking hair, can’t hear bloody nothin’ out of my right ear…
Soap🧼: No offence mate, but you smell like rotting flesh.
Ghost👻: Agreed…
Y/N: Yeah, I don’t wanna talk about it… Let’s get to exfil…
~~~
If you know how an opossum scents themselves, you’d know why Y/N stays behind the group for the rest of the walk with their stride resembling more of a waddling penguin than opossum.
I’m also just imagining something spooking Y/N during training and Price just walks up to them like…
