Winning Them Over

Okay so is this kinda inspired by my own wishfull thinking? Yes absolutely. Do I give a damn? Absolutely not. Warnings? Age gap (reader 23/John 35) / Reader lives at home / kinda rushed because I want it out of my system :)

Ever since covid you and your friend had a Tinder Night every two weeks, to help you with your never-ending singleness. And when she moved across the country to move in with her boyfriend, the Tinder Nights got digital. And by now you've also broadened your horizon to Hinge.

But one evening bored out of your mind by the selection of boys, your friend — plus her boyfriend who tries not to be invested but is failing very badly — and you decide to up the age to 30 to 40, for shits and gigs of course.

And after an evening of swiping and giggling about the creepy dudes who put their minimum age to at least 23, you kinda forget to put the age back to your five-year rule. Until you get a notification of Hinge a couple of nights later.

John has liked your photo! Match to continue the conversation.

You hesitate at first. From the small picture, the notif gives you you can see that the guy isn't 25 of something. Opening the app, you scroll through his profile.

He's... handsome. You're not going to deny that with short brown hair and a pretty mighty moustache and beard, he kinda gives you puppy vibes as his eyes radiate kindness.

His profile says he's 35 and in the army. Pretty tall too. And his prompts are pretty hilarious too. At least... you think so.

You send a screenshot to your friend of his answer to:

I'm totally obsessed with: Sleeping in a freshly washed bed.

You: Oh he's... like ADULT adult Your friend: That answer comes across as if he is going to give you tips about the airfryer

And against your better judgement... you match with him.

The conversation is awkward at first (from your side at least) but slowly and surely you start to warm up. His jokes are horrible and dad-jokey but make you smile anytime he sends them. He's the first person you text and the last one from whom you check if you have a message before going to sleep.

After a week he asks you out to dinner. He wants to meet you and see if you match each other in real life. And you agree.

So that Friday, after work, you get all dolled up and you ask your mother to drop you off so you can drink a cocktail or two and don't have to worry about driving.

When you walk into the restaurant your breath hitches. There he is, waiting patiently for you. He's wearing a simple white button-up with the sleeves rolled up his arms and dark slacks. Effortlessly handsome.

John rises from his seat when you approach and hugs you, a wide smile on his face. He pulls the chair out for you, like the gentleman he is, and asks about your day.

To your surprise, this is the first date you truly enjoy. John is attentive and seems to really pay attention to you and what you say. He asks about you, your job, and your life. Of course, you do the same. he's a very interesting man and his job is just amazing. He explains he's a captain in the British Army but that he's on desk duty until his injury from his last deployment has healed. He can't say a lot about his job as a Captain, but what he tells you sounds all so brave.

Without even realising hours have passed and the restaurant staff is not so subtly urging you to pay and go home. You want to grab your purse to split the bill. But John gives you a stern look and pays instead.

"You really didn't need to do that", you say as he drives you home, feeling kinda guilty that he paid the bill.

John gives you the same look as before. "Darling, my mother raised me right. And she would give me a stern talking to if she knew I would let a lady pay on the first date."

"Fine", you huff, "but next time I pay!"

"Next time huh?" He gives you a cheeky smile.

You feel your face heat up and choose to say nothing, opting to look out of the window.

John stops in front of your house and gets out to open the car door for you. He walks you to the front door and you hesitate for a moment with the key in your hand.

"I would love to invite you in for tea but..."

He nods understanding. "But you have roommates that are probably asleep by now. I get it."

Pursing your lips, you embarrassingly scratch the back of your neck. "No... I still live with my parents."

John's eyes widen with shock for a second before he masks it. "Ah. I see."

This is it, you think, I've blown it.

"It's a bit too early to meet the parents, isn't it?", he jokes and you let out a sigh of relief. You nod in agreement, a smile forming on your face.

Standing up on your tippy toes, you press a kiss against John's cheek. His beard prickles your lips but you don't mind it.

"Thanks for tonight. And thanks you for driving me home", you smile softly. "Text me when you get home safely?"

John nods and you wait before entering your home until John's driven away. Once inside you sigh deeply.

How are you going to explain to your parents that you're dating a guy who's seriously twelve years older than you?!

second part

*taps microphone* Captain John Price. that’s all, thank you.

John is so inordinately desperate to be back home after five months in God–knows–what–town within God–knows–what–country that he hasn't the time to take off his fingerless gloves before he fucks them into your sopping cunt, having just barged into the bedroom where you were coherently enjoying your book, now unable to recall what the last word you read was because the cloth over his palm is bullying your clit, his fingers are curling and tugging at your walls to get you to squirt for him so he has a better reason to put them in the wash, and you're whining and whimpering, just trying to figure out how he's been all this time.

"An– and did you manage to–" you choke on the words as his brutal fingers continue their crusade, hand plummeting beneath your panties, skull bumping the headboard enough to creak the bed like an old door– "eat plenty? Or do you want me to whip you up some– oh– oh– fuck– John!"

"I'm fed, lovie." He pants at the raw sight of your cunt split open from his fingers, noticing the way you can barely keep your eyes from rolling back, stomach binding and twisting as you audibly squirt over his palm, wincing at the fuzziness you feel in your bulged clit as his thrusts plateau.

"Let's focus on feedin' you, 'ey?" He leans to pinch a kiss from your pussy, the stunning girl she was for him, and relishes in your faux–drunken state as he palms the same hand he just used to shoot pleasure up your spine against his crotch to get himself throbbing and turgid for his beautiful wife.

"You gonna be good and throat my cock, sweet woman?”

| Masterlist |

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE IN CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE (2019)

getting stood up -or ditched- by ur stupid boyfriend and desperate for a way home cause a lil bunny can’t walk home alone at night so as a last resort, you call dads bsf price, who is more than happy to pick up his best friends little girl xx and he can’t drop her off without showing her what a real man is

ps: i absolutely adore your writing x keep it up bby

a defeated little sigh slips from your glossed lips as you stare at the text message, received fifty minutes after you’d sent the first one.

“i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight, i forgot about it and now i am busy, sorry!”

you weren’t sad he couldn’t make it, of course, you would’ve appreciated it if he’d at least warned you about his little slip of memory, but if anything, that little mistake only sealed your mind even more — it’s not like you were a couple, you’d only been on a date once, and this was supposed to be the second one. clearly, he wasn’t interested, and you weren’t either, but you’d been left alone waiting for him for more than a hour, like an abandoned little bunny. you didn’t deserve this, you deserved a princess treatment.

nibbling on your bottom lip, you stood outside the building, the night breeze cold against your bare thighs as you considered your options — you couldn’t possibly call your father, he’d be livid with both the guy for living you alone at night, and you for ending up in this reckless situation. also, you didn’t want to make him worry too much.

so, your baby pink nails clipped against the screen as you recklessly quickly typed the number of the only person you trusted the most, the only one you could think about that could come and save you. only tree ringings passed by, before you heard his deep, gruff and rough voice from the other side of the phone.

“hello?”

your heartbeat immediately increased, effected by his low tone, beating faster and nervously. he sounded rougher, huskier.

“sir?” you tried to swallow down your heart, poor thing trying to flutter outside of your chest — your cheeks were painted red, covered by a warm and bright blush.

“doll?” you caught the slight urgency in his voice, though it sounded controlled and steady as always. a few seconds of silence passed after his reply, and you imagined him glancing down at his wrist watch, before muttering out “what’s wrong?”

“i’m fine, im really sorry to bother you at this hour—“

“you never bother me, sweetheart. what happened?”

you hesitated, looking down towards your mary jane white heels “can you please come pick me up? im alone and i didn’t wanna call my father cause he’d get angry, pretty please?”

you bit your lip, torn between relief and regret for deciding to call him without even thinking twice. maybe he’d been sleeping, tired after work—?

“where are you, princess?”

“outside of a restaurant, i’ll text you the address, okay?”

the sudden rustling of fabric and the light jingle of keys echoed from the phone, and you could picture him standing up, his broad, muscular body walking towards his door “wait for me, doll, be there in a few”

less than ten minutes went by when you recognized his old fashioned car, driving up to a halt right in front of your place on the sidewalk. you mentally prayed and thanked God for sending you your personal knight, the rumble of the car’s engine the only sound around the otherwise peaceful and too silent air.

you quickly opened the passenger’s door and got inside of the car, immediately filled with the familiar scent of cigars, tobacco and expensive cologne that swirled around you.

“thank you for coming, sir,” you were nervous, you felt embarrassed, and he could see that, under the dim light surrounding the car, his sharp and intense eyes never left you, taking in the way your fingers fidgeted together, hands resting on your lap like a squirming bunny that couldn’t handle being too close to him.

even in the dark your blushing cheeks were so bright, he could see them, red and flushed — with one large hand gripping the steering wheel, he leisurely admired your short dress, before starting the engine and driving away.

“who do i have to kill, mmh?”

you almost gave out a smile, but only shook your head at him. “no one, sir, im okay”

“date stood you up, bunny?”

you loved his nickname for you. it made you blush and heart flutter.

there was no point in telling him a white lie. with a soft sigh, you leaned your head back on the seat. “it wasn’t a date..he’s not even my boyfriend. we’ve gone out once and today we were supposed to have dinner together. but he clearly wasn’t interested since he texted me that he’d forgotten and was apparently too busy to tell me instead of ditching me and leaving me all alone”

john kept driving, and you dared a shy glance towards him. he always radiated confidence and strong masculinity — he was so handsome, so respectful and manly, the manliest man that existed. he was a real man, the one you truly wanted, and no one could ever take his place in your heart, your poor heart was aware of that. a little, sweet and too young girl falling for a man too old for you, old enough to be your father.

only then, a glimpse of an amused lazy grin appeared beneath his thick, dark beard, littered with gray on the right spots. he shook his head once, focused on the road, “stupid kid, he was. he’s merely a boy, love, boys his age don’t know shit about how to treat a sweet bunny like you, sweetheart. dumb dog”

you blushed more at his words, clenching your bare knees until they touched, your thighs exposed and filled with goosebumps provoked by the chill night air and his deep voice.

“doesn’t matter, it can happen. im not sad or anything, just…it feels mortifying. he could’ve at least texted me, you know? could’ve just told me he didn’t want to go out anymore. makes me feel like im insignificant. that’s why i’ve never liked guys my age.”

you couldn’t even stop that last line from slipping out of your glossed lips, at that point, you’d just been rumbling to him. he remained quiet, listening to you as he drove, and you recognized the familiar ice cream place, the trees and local church that were close to your neighborhood.

“bunny, that kid was an asshole, ‘s not your fault. an angel like you deserves a real man who knows what he wants and what you want. not some idiot” he punctuated the last word with a gruff chuckle, the sound vibrating around the tiny space between you. “don’t waste time with people like him. could pay him a visit, if you want”

“please don’t sir” you quickly said, your lips already curving in an entertained smile, “we’re never gonna see each other anymore, anyway”

“made my bunny stay outside all alone at night, could send him to jail. gonna make him be real busy behind bars,” you knew he was being playful just to make you smile, but his voice sounded even lower, deep and rough, with a hint of threatening to it. “why didn’t you call your dad?”

you hesitated, blinking at him from under your long lashes, puppy dog eyes shy and timid as you shrugged “he would’ve gotten man at him for leaving me alone and at me for ending up in this situation, always finds a way to blame the victim.”

you saw him shifting gear, and without even realizing it, you were already on your main street. tilting your head towards the darkened mirror, you recognized your front porch, standing in the dark with no lights on. your dad must’ve been asleep, or maybe was waiting for you to come back in his room. but from the windows, you saw that all the lights were off.

“im glad i called you, sir, thank you for coming and helping me. i really don’t know how to thank you” you turned towards him again, giving him another smile.

“was a pleasure, bunny, no need to pay me back. just seeing you in this short dress is enough.” he turned off his car, smirking lazily at you with a look that made you shiver and turn into flames, flushing red and warm. you wanted him so bad, you felt bad for how much you wanted him.

you swallowed, fluttering your lashes at him, grabbing your purse and pushing your heels down, as if reminding yourself that you had to say goodbye and go. “w-well, then, thank you again, sir,” blushing like shooting stars, like the bright rays of the sun, you leaned closer to him, wanting to give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

as soon as you leaned over, you felt his hands grab your waist, tugging you by your hips and pushing you against his lap. you almost squeaked, and your lips found his mouth, instead of his cheek. he waisted no time throwing your legs on his sides, making you sink against him, practically straddling him. the sudden contact made you press your mouth more firmly against his, muffling a little sound as a rush of warmth spread between your legs.

he trailed his hand over your neck, until it tangled in your long hair and grabbed a fistful of it to tilt your face against his. he kissed you hard, almost violently, like a starving, animalistic man. you whined against him, throwing your hands around his neck, the pain in your scalp from how much he was pulling your head mingling with pleasure.

you parted your lips slightly as he pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, licking every free inch until it pressed against yours. his free hand trailed under the hem of your sundress making you whimper and cling closer to him. you felt the cold metal of his rings against your bare thigh as he gripped your flesh, brushing his hand up and down until it reaches the hem of your panties.

you skipped a breath, tilting your head to give him more access as he devoured your lips, crashing against them in a feverish kiss full of bites, tongue and teeth.

“sir, sir—“ your words were muffled by the kisses, but you didn’t want to stop, you only wanted him, to feel him and to be with him.

he parted only for a second, looking down at you with a hungry, dark gaze “shhh, shhh doll, don’t wan’ anyone to wake up, huh bunny?”

he grabbed your chin, pressing his mouth heavy against yours. “you know how hard it is to see you going out like this, how badly daddy wants to have you all to himself, mh?

your breath grew heavier, and you could only nod at him, breathlessly, doe eyes glimmering, big and innocent and so needy.

“look at you…so fucking innocent, such a good girl, no one deserves you, angel. gonna be the death of me, looking at me so innocently, when I know how much you want daddy to have his way with you, don’t you, bunny? a needy bunny on my lap, fuck,”

you nodded again, whining and hiding your head against his neck when his hand lowered between your legs, tracing your inner thigh with a steady movement, like he wanted to savor it, take his time, but couldn’t wait any longer. “yes sir, wan’— wanna be with you, I—“

“know you do, bunny, i know sweet thing. only this old man knows how to treat you like the princess that you are, made of sugar. shit, having to talk to your dad when you’re around, acting like i don’t wanna throw his little girl over my shoulder and have my way with her, having to hold myself back. you on your little skirts that make me go mad, your fucking ribbons…”

you bit your lip and shuddered against him, blushing shyly at his words, that made your heartbeat quicken, go faster. he always treated you so well, like he was your bodyguard, like you were his little princess. a little helpless mewl left your lips, as you sought for his lips again, pressing another kiss on his mouth, that he quickly deepened — the kiss filled the car with lewd sounds, his tongue heavy and wet against yours, but you wanted more.

“please sir, please, anything,” you whimpered, and he cooed at you, letting out another deep chuckle that vibrated against your chest. your lips were puffy and red from his mustache and salt and pepper beard that scratched your skin.

”what do you want, doll? mmh? come on love, use your words, know you can.”

you were too shy to ask him or to address what you wanted, hoped the way you fluttered your lashes innocently could speak for you. “just you, daddy..and, and…”

he softened his hungry gaze when you trailed off, and caressed your thigh. “daddy can’t give you that now, love. you deserve more than a stolen moment in the midst of chaos. and definitely not here” with a gentle tug, he brought your hand to his lips, pressing soft kissed on your knuckles. “wanna get off on daddy’s thigh? like a good bunny? mmh?”

you nodded again, shyly yet eagerly this time. lifting the skirt of your sundress to shift your position, he sat you on his thigh, coming in contact with the denim of his jeans, and you shivered when you felt the muscle of his leg against your clothed clit. john leaned back, playfully patting your lower back.

“alright bunny, hands on my shoulders, like this; good girl. now, just move your hips, back and forth, like this— yeah. good girl, like this, fuck, can feel you, see? ‘s not hard, angel” his hands were heavy and secure on your waist, steadying your movements as he guided your hips to buck against his thigh.

you were new to the sensation, didn’t know how to move, but the friction made you whine slowly, almost inaudibly. not to his ears.

“feels good, bunny?”

“mmmhh” you nodded, rolling your hips against his thigh, searching more of that strange feeling. you lowered your head, your cheeks growing red, a bright blush that he could almost taste on his own lips. you were shy, inexperienced, a virgin, and john was the only one who could teach you everything you needed to learn.

“that’s it baby, make yourself feel good. take your time,”

“don’t know how—“ you whined, desperate for his help. his hands ached on your waist, wanting to hold you, to undress you, to grasp every inch of your soft skin with his rough hands. and it was torture, seeing you like that, whining and needy for your daddy’s help, having to physically stop himself from touching you freely :(

“you’re doing so well f’me, bunny, good girl, find out how you like it, yeah, sweetheart, you should see yourself right now. pure sunshine,” he squeezed your hips and you yelped, letting out a soft whimper, your thighs clenching against his, as you tried to steady your movements, your clit brushing against the denim and making your panties grow damp.

the familiar sound of your ringtone startled you, and you almost screamed when it echoed through the dark space of the car. you stopped your movements, catching your breath. blinking as if you’d just woken up from a dream, you crouched yourself towards the passenger seat and hastily grabbed your phone, taking it out of your pink purse.

dad. his name sparkled on the screen, and you felt john physically tense against you, the muscle of his jaw thickening when he saw his name. begrudgingly, you picked up, holding your phone against your ear with a loud heart thundering in your chest.

“dad?” you tried to breath normally, your cheeks felt burning hot, and your voice was shaky. “im…im almost home, yes, it went…”

you dared a shy look at John, whose jaw was clenched, and whose hand still hadn’t gotten off your bare thigh. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, I have the keys yes. You can go to sleep, im fine”

when he hung up, you loudly swallowed. you couldn’t believe what you’d been doing. straddling your dad’s best friend’s thigh, in his car. there was no way you could look at him in the eyes after that. your face blushed like it was on fire, and your eyes looked down at your ruffled skirt,

“I—I— thank you, sir Price, I’ll be going now—“ you stammered, your heart pounding like it never had before. you tried to reach out for your purse, but john quickly grabbed you by your chin, keeping your face in front of his — his think fingers sprawled over your jaw, and his voice was almost animalistic, a bare growl when he spoke against your lips. he was pissed, he felt like a dog who’d just been teased with a bone, just to have it taken away from him right before his eyes.

“when i do finally get my hands on you, doll, nothing and no one will take you from me, understand?”

you nodded, breathless.

“understand, doll?” he repeated, again, making you flinch with pleasure.

“yessir”

“good girl,” he rasped the word against your lips, before pressing a soft kiss on them. “now, goodnight, bunny, hop back to your pen.”

dbf!price who buys you pretty little skirts, knowing how much you love them, just so you can wear them at family dinners that he’s invited to.

dbf!price who rubs at your clit under the table, gently pinching your thighs because you’ve gotten so good at controlling your reactions and he enjoys seeing you jump a little

dbf!price who likes flustering you, asking if you have a boyfriend. his eyes blazing with amusement as you stutter out a ‘no’.

his finger sinking into you in a slow, shallow thrust. and right before you’re about to cum, his finger leaves your wet cunt :(((

dbf!price who after dinner offers to drive you to a friends house, knowing the two of you are going to end up fucking in his car.

stuffing you full of his cock as he tells you how naughty you are. and how good girls don’t fuck men twice their age :(((

dbf!price who laughs at how wet you are, spanking you softly as you writhe against him.

“what would your parents say if they saw you like this, hm?”

dbf!price who uses the excuse that your dads always out of town to check up on you. fucking you in every flat surface of your home and when he comes over he likes to remind you how many times he made you cum there.

i need him :((

cw: john price x f!reader - older man/younger girl; smut; smidge daddy kink; meet cute or smthn

thinking about being moderately creeped out when the waiter came your way and told you that your tab has actually been settled by that gentleman over there.

and you’re quite hesitant to look around and acknowledge the gentleman’s presence but your friends are whooping, making kissy faces and being so embarrassingly obvious at their own checking-out that you bit the bullet and turned around, dutifully ignoring the lump lodged in your throat—

oh.

well, that’s one good looking man, sure. kind of young for your taste though, if you’re being honest but if he’s treating you and your friends, then you guess that’s—

the man beside him turns, meets your gaze, and shoots you a sultry wink.

his scruff and his hair is a mess of salt and pepper, and he’s got crinkles around his eyes as he smiles, and he’s got tan skin like he just spent a summer in greece while you were honest to god killing yourself for your capstone as your graduation is coming close, and—

“yeah,” your friend laughs, all sleazy. “he’s your type, ain’t he? a fucking dilf.”

oh.

so that younger one is—

god, he’s almost twice your age then if that kid’s his son. what the fuck that’s—

“please shoot your shot before we lose this group-sugar daddy,” another one of your friends chirps and that forces an ugly snort your way but mr. dilf doesn’t even look turned off by the way his smile just grew and- oh god, he’s standing up and he’s moving close and—

“hey, sweetheart,” he says and honestly the british accent is just uncalled for.

“hi,” you reply after being jabbed on your side.

his scruff dances as his humour bloats. he nods his head to the group and turns back at you.

fuck, yeah okay so— “thanks for that, by the way. you didn’t have to.”

he shrugs. “i wanted to. ‘sides, all that money ought to be spent on a pretty thing, don’t you think?”

pretty thing — does he mean you?

that…

that honestly does it for you.

your cheeks tingle with warmth as shyness creeps in. you feel yourself slowly clamming up, still so painfully unused to being the point of attraction. no one has ever liked you above your friends, but there he is, so suave and beautiful in his tan and charming in an honestly concerning way as he pours all his attention to you. not them but you.

“do you want to, uh, go somewhere? show me around or something?”

he huffs a fond laugh and offers his hand — big and callused, with a scar drawn across his whole palm — and says, “thought you’ll never ask.”

he pulls you up. “name’s john.” he tips his head back to his table, one that’s now bar of the other patron. “that was my son, lucas.”

you didn’t even notice that john’s hand has left your own until you felt it on the small of your back.

“and what about you?”

“huh?” you ask, trying to focus on not tripping on your feet.

“what shall i call you, sweetheart?”

“oh,” you say, blinking, before muttering your name.

john hums something deep in the base of his throat.

“beautiful.”

and, somehow, you know that he doesn’t just mean your name but he means you.

.

(it ends with you on his hotel bed, speared open by his cock. you’ve never been this wet before, walls all loose and squelching as he fucks it even deeper, punching the head into the pucker of your cervix.

john is all quiet grunts, animalistic as he devours you.

jesus, this man couldn’t truly be almost twice your age — how the fuck is he moving this way?

he fills you up to the point of tears, and fills you up even more, pushing and pressing in until he’s all snug in you, his pelvis flushed to yours. you feel so full. so stuffed that you couldn’t even moan right, raspy breaths all that could puff out of you.

“s’good!” you hiccup, sobbing, twitching at the drag of his cock as john pulls out only to choke on your own voice when he fucks in.

“jo-hnnn, s’good! s’good!”

“yeah?” he grunts, scruff tickling the shell of your ear. “y’feel so good ‘round me, darling. tight like a vice. christ, has no one ever fucked you open? stretched you out good?”

you shake your head, whining because no. no one’s fucked you this way. no one’s filled you this way. and if they did, everything’s been overwritten by john.

and his thick fingers and wide palms and his fat cock, fucking in, in, in.

“oh, darlin’,” he croons, his skin slapping against your own. “don’t worry, then, love. daddy’s going t’fix you up, ‘kay? daddy’s going t’make you feel so good, i promise.”

daddy—

fuck.

fuck.)

Think I need someone older

Think I need someone older, just a little bit colder. take the weight off your shoulders, think I need someone older ft. ex boyfriends dad John Price tw. age gap [reader is 22 and John is in his mid-late 40s], oral sex [male and female receiving] mentions of cheating [not by price or reader], insinuation of multiple rounds, PIV sex, creampie, mentions of a bitchy ex-wife, fem!reader, female anatomy, illusion to toxic and psychologically abusive relationship a/n. this turned out a lot longer than i anticipated it to be or i intended but when i started i just couldn't stop. price also works in security in this. this is also the first ime in ages that i have written something this long, so i apologise if it non-sensical or it makes no sense. word count.  3769 banner by @kaitsawamura

ex boyfriends dad John Price who had grown to hate the man his son at become, he was spoiled and entitled and thought he was gods gift to mankind always looking down on others and it was all because of his ex-wife. The woman worshiped her son, saw him as her prized possession, she did everything for him. Washing, cooking, cleaning and never punished him for anything he did and turned him into the monster he was today. John had tried to change her ways, tried to punish him and instill some discipline and human empathy into him but his wife wouldn’t have any of it. If John took his electronics away for misbehaving, his wife would give them back in 5 minutes. If he grounded him for any period of time, he knew all he had to do was ask his mom if he could go out and she would immediately tell him yes and to be safe and have fun. Any time he showed disrespetful behaviour, to them and to the other people she would always say ‘boys will be boys’. It was one of the many things that led to their eventual divorce when their son was 15. They shared custody and anytime his son was over Price tried to correct his behaviour, believing it was never too late but all of his work would be undone anytime he would go back to his mothers and by the time his son was 18 and stopped coming over as mandated by the courts, it was too late. Now his son only came round when he wanted something or was in the type of trouble he didn’t want his mother to know about. 

ex boyfriends dad John Price who met you for the first time at his son's 21st birthday, he didn’t plan on staying long and was only going to show face, put some money on the tab for his son and give him his present. And there are you, a pretty little thing wrapped in the arms of his asshole son and he decides to stay just a little longer than he planned to talk to you. You are oh so sweet when he talks to you, telling him you had heard good things about him from his ex-wife and son (which he instantly doubted, his wife was still bitter he went through with the divorce and his son saw him as this hard-handed father always dishing out punishments he believed he didn’t deserve), you voice is positively dripping with syrup and John feels his heart pick up in a way he hadn’t felt in years. But as he walks with you, he watches. Closely. Watches the way you're never too far away from his son, how you talk to nobody but him, how your eyes are always searching for his son in the room, how you rub your hand up and down your arms to comfort yourself as you watch his son talk, no, flirt with every other woman in the room. It makes something in his gut twist itself into knots because his son as this absolutely beautiful and sweet girl right there and he was just throwing it away

ex boyfriends dad John Price who meets you a few times in the next year, in cafes or supermarkets or even just when you’re out for a walk in the local park, you always look so pretty especially in the warmer months when you’re out and about in little summer dresses and short skirts, the warm summer sun shining on your skin and giving you a gorgeous glow,  and you are always so so nice to him, making conversation with soft smiles and wide eyes but he notices you're a littlemore skittish, always checking your phone and looking around you anxiously as if someone was watching you, how your clothes start to get a bit more conservative the little hints of your gorgeous skin now being hidden behind long sleeves and trousers. When he asks if you’re okay you give him a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and tell him everythings fine, the feeling he had in his gut when he first met you gets worse. He knew something was wrong and though he couldn’t pinpoint what it was he knew it had to do with his son. 

ex boyfriends dad John Price who hasn't seen you for a few months since he last saw you in December, the last time he saw you all the warmth had drained from your face and your eyes and though you were smiling there was an undeniable sadness and pain just rolling off you in waves. It broke his heart to see someone who was once so full of life become lifeless, like all the light and warmth that had radiated from you when you first meet was sucked out and replaced with a deep darkness that penetrated the very fibers of your soul. When he see’s you again, its Spring and the world has started to gain a bit more of its colour back, and so have you. You’re in a local bar, your friends surrounding you as you laugh and drinkand dance, John watches from the bar. Watches the way your eyes light up and your smile finally reached your eyes, the way your cheeks are dusted in a small pink hue as the alcohol flushes your skin. He smiles as he brings his whiskey to his lips and turns away from your group, who unbeknownst to him were trying to convince you to go up and talk to him despite the fact that he was your ex-boyfriends dad. They rolled their eyes and shoved at your shoulder every time you tried to brush them off, saying what better way to get revenge against your cheating, toxic ex-boyfriend than to sleep with his dad? And with the encouragement of another shot you decide to go ‘fuck it’ and walk up to the bar, sliding in comfortably beside John your hand falling right beside his your pinky finger brushing against as you turn your head to look at him only to find him already looking at you, his eyes raking up and down your body. He wasn’t going to admit it out loud, at least not to you at this very moment, but gods was he glad you were showing a little bit of skin again, the tight crop top you had on giving him the perfect view of your cleavage and leaving the delcious skin of your sides exposed while the short skirt you wore hugged the curve of your hips in such a teasing manner that he just wanted to reach out and palm the fat with his big hands just to feel it squish between his fingers, and your thighs gods he just wanted to bury his face inbetween them and feel the fat press against his head. 

ex boyfriends dad John Price who smiles at you, warm and welcoming, eyes twinkling with mischief and mirth as he greets you with a friendly ‘hi’, you give him a flirtatious smile and a ‘hi’ back. You quickly fall into an easy conversation, catching up with one another and skirting over the glaring question of what happened. You talk about your classes and how glad you are to be graduating soon and, saying how you’ve already secured a graduate position in one of the top companies within your industry and he tells you some stories of his time in the military and when he tells you about a scottish man called ‘Soap’ you can’t help but giggle and ask how he got that name and when John tells you its classified you pout at him and he damn near pulls you in for a kiss right there. Time flies by so quickly when you’re talking to him that you don’t even notice your friends leave, your best friend sending a text letting you know everyone got home safely and to use protection and not to do anything she wouldn’t do (which causes you to roll your eyes and John can’t help the dirty thoughts and images that flashes through his mind when he sees it), or how the numbers in the bar keep dwindling down until its just the two of you left and the bartender gives you a cheeky smile as you close out your tab (John insisting on paying for yours as well). 

ex boyfriends dad John Price who insists on walking you home when you’re ushered out of the bar, his hand casually slipping around shoulder as he pulls you against him, using the fact that the spring night is chilly and you didn’t bring a jacket out with you and he just radiates warmth, which instantly spreads through you at his touch. Starting in your cheeks, causing an adorable flush that quickly spreads through your entire body settle deep in your stomach and your core. You continue to chat as you walk, more stories flowing between the you and you flush even brighter at the big belly laugh he lets out as you share your drunken stories from freshers week when you first started university. Before you know it, you’re outside your apartment and you dwindle for a bit conversation dying down but neither of you wanting to say goodbye yet. It takes a nothing more than a few nanoseconds for you to decide to invite him up for a drink, telling him you had a bottle of 15 year old single malt your father gifted you for being accepted into your dream job after college and he accepts even quicker.

ex boyfriends dad John Price who follows behind you, his hand in yours and his heart beating rapidly in his chest feeling like a goody teenager as he crosses the threshold of apartment, he doesn’t even let the door fully close before he’s turning you around and pinning you to it. One hand gripping your hips and the other cradling your jaw like you are the most precious thing in the world, completely contradicting the way he kisses you. Its deep, harsh, bruising and full of passion, lips slotting against yours like they were always meant to be there. The kiss is absolutely intoxicating, one hand reaches out to fist at his shirt while the other tangles in his hair at the back of his head, your grab is a little tighter than you expected and tension at the back of his skull causes a moan to ripple from deep in Johns chest and spill into your mouth and you arch into him, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him, your hand moving from his chest to grip at his shoulders. You dig your nails into his skin beneath the soft fabric of his shirt as his hand moves from your hip to grab at your ass and pull you against him, his hard cock pressing into the plush of your stomach through his jeans. John pulls away from the kiss far to quickly for your liking and you go to chase his lips but he quickly buries his head in your neck, lips pressing against your pulse point as you pant and move your neck to give him better access to the skin, his teeth graze your skin as the kisses turns to bites and the moan you let our is absolute music to John’s ears.

ex boyfriends dad John Price who feels a little guilty about what he’s doing, the rational part of his brain at war with the emotional part, telling him it’s wrong and he shouldn’t be doing this, apart from the fact that you were more than 20 years younger than him you were also his son ex-girlfriend for gods sake and maybe part of him was doing this to spite his son and maybe you were doing the same thing, he didn’t know the details of what happened you didn’t elaborate when you told him you had broken up just after new year, maybe you were just doing this for revenge to screw with his son, to show him what he missed but the emotional part is screaming at him that this is right, that right there is where he’s meant to be. He found you attractive, had since he first saw you, but it was more than that he thought you were amazing and kind and so so smart, he enjoyed every second of the small amount of time he got to spend with you idly chatting when you meet, you made his heart beat so erratically in his chest that he was sure it was going to rip out of this chest but he wouldn’t even mind if it meant he go to give it to you for safe keeping  because he knew there was no better place it than in your hands. Eventually the rational side wins and John’s panting as he pulls back from your neck, pupils wide as he looks in your eyes. You see a hint of hesitation in his eyes, and something inside you shrinks back a little and the heat that had been pooling inside of you was slowly turning stone cold but the way John rubs his tumb against your cheek stops it from flaming our completely. His voice is quiet as he ask if you want this, he’s still breathless as the words pass it lips and you barely hear it but when it registers in your brain you are instantly saying ‘yes’ and nodding your head.  That’s all he needs for his emotional side to win and he is pressing his lips to yours once again and his hands are gripping onto your thighs as he easily hoists you up into his arms as you wrap your legs around his waist.

ex boyfriends dad John Price who doesn’t even take you to the bedroom, instead he gently places you on the sofa as his hands reach out to remove your shirt, throwing it over his shoulder hapazardly (you notice in the morning it’s hanging of the edge of your lamp shade), his lips trailing down your throat and across your collarbone intermittently changing from kisses to bites to sucks something akin to pride blooming in his chests as the purple marks bloom across your skin. Heat blooms where his lips touch and you grind up into him, the fabric of your skirt having rid up when he lifted you and being bunched around your hips leaving your panties and pussy exposed and allowing you to seek a delicious friction as your clit nudges against the fabric of his jeans through your panties, it helps that the fabric is tented from Johns hard cock. The moan you let out is almost pornographic from just the simple movement and John groans at the sound, moving his hips to meet yours as you grind just to hear it again. 

ex boyfriends dad John Price  who had planned to take his time with you, to learn exactly what made you come undone underneath him and to draw out orgasm after orgasm from you until you were a trembling mess who couldn’t even remember his own name, he wanted to make you moan and scream until your throat was raw and watch those pretty little eyes roll to the back of your head as pleasure overwhelmed your body, but he could feel the wetness of your underwear through his jeans and the way you nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his shirt so hard he was sure they would leave little crescent indents on the skin and bruises that would last days, ones he would proudly show off and he decided fuck taking his time. He quickly removed his lips from your skin and you mourned their loss but the feeling was quickly replaced with pleasure as he moved down and presses a kiss to your clit through your underwear as John hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls them down your thighs once again throwing it over his shoulder haphazardly not caring where they landed as his hand wrapped around your thigh and he dove into your pussy. He licks at your clit, tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves and pleasure shoots through your entire body, sparks lighting up your nervous system and it feel like every nerve comes alive more the fire inside of you heating up to a new degree with every swipe of his tongue and as John presses a finger to your entrance gently to your entrance, at first testing the resistance before slowly pushing into you and curving in such away it presses against your g-spot and its almost like he can directly inside of you with the precision he hits it at. The pleasure causes a moan and an ‘oh god’ to tumble from your lips and your eyes roll black, which John watches from between your legs and as your head falls back against the arm of the chair he nips gently at your clit the tiny bit of pain causes a whine to tumble from your lips and a smirk forms on Johns lips

ex boyfriends dad John Price   who says “eyes on me sweetheart” and the ways the words tumble from his lips, deep and rumbly and dripping with heat that almost makes you melt. And oh god the vibration against your clit has you almost seeing stars and pushes you closer to the edge but you quickly snap your head back so you can look down at John who presses another kiss to your clit as a reward but then he pulls his finger from inside you and for the briefest second you think you’re being punished but he replaces his mouth on your clit with his thumb and starts circling your clit while he raises the rest of his body to give you a bruising kiss, your tongues mixing together as you taste yourself on him and with one last flick of his thumb John feels you tense underneath him as your orgasm rocks your body. You feel like your whole body is on fire, little fireworks lighting up every single nerve ending you have and causing you to moan into John’s mouth, your fingers scramble to to hold onto something, anything to ground you, eventually tangling in the fabric of John’s shirt as you ride out the wave of your orgasm. Your chest heaves as you come down from your high and you separate your lips from John to mumble the words “you have too many clothes one”, he chuckles at you and ducks down to place a kiss against your pulse point again before sitting up and pulling off his shirt first and then reaching down to unbuckle his belt, his jeans and boxers joining the mess of clothes all over the floor. Your eyes scan his body, his years in the military and security doing wonders for his body, corded muscles bulging in his arms as he brings his arms down on side of yours head forcing you to look him in the face once again where you’re meet with inquisitive and teasing eyes as he asks “like what you see sweetheart?” 

ex boyfriends dad John Price  who doesnt expect or wait for an answer as he presses his lips to yours in another searing kiss, lips and tongues melding together its almost like you were trying to drain each other life essence out just through the kiss. When John pulls away from you, a string of saliva connects you and only breaks when he dips his tongue out to swipe across his lips as he checks in with you again to make sure that this is what you want and when you nod, he takes one of his hands by your head and gently guides himself inside you. The stretch is absolutely delicious and a moan rips through you, starting deep in your chest and falling from your lips before you can even stop it but John doesn’t want you to stop it instead he grips your chin and tells you to be louder that he wants to hear every little sound that tumbles from your lips and so you do. With every thrust inside of you and every circle of Johns finger against your clit your moans get louder and more uncontrolled every fibre of your being filled with nothing but pleasure and your mind numb to any other thought than Johns name and the pleasure he is giving you. You cum again with John inside you, your nerve endings lighting up like the sun itself as you clench around him, the tightness of your pussy clamping down on Johns dick causing a jagged moan to fall from John’s lips. He knew he wasn’t going to last, he was already so worked up from kissing you and eating you out that he knew he was going to cum soon. And as you clench around him again, a mini ograsm richocting from your last one, he groans into you neck and takes your hip into a bruising grip, fingers and nail digging in to the plush flesh, he can’t himself as she sheathes himself inside of you right up to the hilt as his own orgasm rocks through him and he fills you with his cum. Your both panting, your chests heaving as you both come down from your high with ecstasy and adrenaline filling your systems and you notice, John is still hard inside of you so you say with a smile, “another round?” which may have turned into 2, including a round in the shower as he tried to clean you up from the previous rounds. 

ex boyfriends dad John Price who decided that night that he wanted this to be more, more than just sex. He wanted you in your entiretly, he wanted not just your heart but your soul. He wanted to know every secret you kept hidden buried deepen inside you, he wanted to know the simplest most basic parts of you, your favour colour and favourite food, what made you laugh and smile and what pisses you off. He wanted to hold your hopes and dreams in his hands and support you to reach to them, wanted to hold your hand as you rose and comfort you when you fell. He wanted your happiness and your pain. He just wanted you. Every part of you, no matter how knarled and ugly you thought it was because to him you would always be the most wonderful creature the gods had ever created.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒, john price.

summary: john has spent years feeling like his desirability has faded with age, but when his daughter’s best friend starts making subtle advances, he finds himself unable to resist the temptation. cw: age gap, taboo relationship, unprotected sex, mild dirty talk, praise, porn with slight plot. g!n reader, female anatomy. wc: 2.3k note: i was inspired by the song 'colors' by halsey. those who get it, get it.

John isn’t old—not really. But some days, he feels it.

It’s in the way his knees ache when he stands too quickly. The gray creeping into his beard, a little more stubborn each year. The way people call him sir now, not out of respect, but because he looks like he belongs to another time.

He’s never minded getting older, never cared for vanity, but something about it feels heavier lately. Maybe it’s because his daughter—his little girl—isn’t so little anymore. She’s in college now, fully grown, filling the house with stories of her own life that no longer revolve around him.

He listens, nods in the right places, but he knows he’s fading into the background. A spectator to youth, no longer a part of it.

And then, there’s you.

You, her best friend. You, always at his house, curled up on his couch, laughing at things he doesn’t quite understand. You, in little shorts that ride up your thighs, oversized sweaters slipping off your shoulders, bare legs tucked beneath you as you steal glances at him over the rim of your glass.

At first, he thinks he’s imagining it. The way your gaze lingers when he walks past. The way you stretch, slow and deliberate, when you know he’s looking. The way your lips curl around the edge of your spoon when you eat ice cream straight from the carton.

Subtle things. Nothing he can call out without sounding mad.

But then there are the other things. The way you compliment him too much—that sweater looks good on you, Mr. Price… The way your touches linger, fingers brushing over his when you pass him a drink. The way your lips part just slightly when he speaks, like you’re hanging on every word.

He tells himself he’s imagining it, because the alternative is dangerous.

But tonight, he knows.

The house is quiet, his daughter out for the evening. You shouldn’t be here, not really, but you’d dropped by to return a book, your usual excuse. And now, you’re standing in his kitchen, wearing something too small, too sheer, something that tells him you knew exactly what you were doing when you came over.

“You don’t have to rush off,” he says, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t give you a reason to stay.

But you smile, slow and knowing, like you were waiting for him to ask.

The tension between you stretches thin, tighter with each passing second. You close the distance first, stepping into his space, tilting your head up to look at him. He can smell your perfume—sweet, warm, something that makes his pulse slow and heavy.

“You always act so polite,” you murmur, eyes flickering over his face. “But I think you like when I test you.”

His jaw tenses. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

You hum, fingers lifting to graze the collar of his shirt, featherlight. “I think I do.”

He exhales sharply, hands bracing against the counter behind him. He shouldn’t touch you. Shouldn’t let you get this close. But your fingers slide higher, brushing along the thick column of his throat, tracing the edge of his beard.

“Been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?” you ask, breath warm against his cheek.

Christ. You’re shameless. And worse—he wants to give in.

His resolve crumbles when you press onto the balls of your feet, lips barely brushing his. A silent invitation. A challenge.

He grips your waist, not gentle, not hesitant, pulling you flush against him. A sharp inhale, a second’s hesitation—then his lips crash into yours, swallowing whatever taunt you were about to whisper next.

You melt against him, fingers twisting into his shirt, pulling him closer like you’ve wanted this just as badly. He groans into your mouth, deep and needy, his beard rough against your soft skin as his hands tighten, feeling the warmth of your body beneath his palms.

It’s been a long time since he’s let himself take something. And fuck, you’re making it impossible to stop now.

You gasp against his lips, a sweet little sound that shoots straight through him, sending all the blood in his body rushing south. His cock, already straining uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans, presses hard against your belly, and he swears under his breath.

“You—” he starts, voice rough, but the words die in his throat when your hand slides between you, palming him through his jeans. A sharp hiss slips past his teeth. “—fuck. You’ve got no idea what you do to me, love.”

The endearment hangs heavy between you, thick with meaning, and the way your breath hitches tells him you felt it, too. You pull back just enough to meet his gaze through your lashes, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“…I think I know exactly what I do to you,” you murmur, voice dripping with sweet, teasing sin.

His control snaps.

In one swift motion, he spins you, gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting you onto the kitchen counter with effortless strength. You let out a soft, breathless laugh, hands clutching at his shoulders as he steps between your legs, settling his hips flush against yours.

“You’re a fuckin’ menace,” he growls, the words half-admiring, half-accusing, but his smirk betrays him. His hands slide up the heated skin of your thighs, thumbs pressing into soft flesh before gliding higher, slipping beneath the hem of your tank top.

When he pushes it up, his breath stutters.

Pastel pink lace. A delicate little bow in the center, nestled between the swell of your breasts. Fucking hell.

“For me?” he murmurs, voice lower now, rougher, as he dips his head to press open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, until he reaches the sensitive spot at the curve of your shoulder.

You hum in affirmation, fingers threading into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He shudders at the feeling, at the way your hips shift, restless against his, seeking more.

His hands find the hem of your tiny little shorts, fingers hooking beneath the fabric with a quiet grunt. He gives them a sharp tug, impatience written in every movement.

“Hips,” he orders, voice thick, edged with need.

You obey without hesitation, lifting them eagerly, breath catching as he drags the fabric down your legs in one rough motion before tossing them to the floor. He’s barely paying attention to them now—no, his focus is locked entirely on you, on the delicate scrap of lace still clinging to your hips.

His pupils darken, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he takes in the sight of you, all wrapped up in soft, sheer fabric, the matching set he’s certain you wore just for him.

“Christ,” he mutters, running his hands up your thighs, fingers pressing possessively into warm skin. “You just had to be a fuckin’ tease, didn’t you?”

You smirk, shifting slightly on the counter, letting your legs spread just a little wider, an unspoken invitation. His jaw tightens, eyes flicking back up to yours, searching for something—permission, maybe, or control he knows he’s already lost.

A low curse rumbles in his chest as his hands move to his belt, unbuckling it with a practiced ease. The soft clink of metal echoes through the kitchen, followed by the slow, deliberate unzipping of his jeans. He shoves them down just enough, boxers sliding with them to mid-thigh, freeing his cock—heavy, hard, already leaking at the tip.

Your breath hitches, eyes flickering downward, but before you can say anything, he’s already moving. One hand gripping your hip, the other curling around the damp fabric of your panties.

“They’re too pretty to take off,” he murmurs, voice dark with something almost reverent as he tugs them to the side, exposing the wet heat of you. His cock twitches at the sight, at the way you shiver under his touch, at the way you’re already so fucking ready for him.

“Gonna ruin you just like this,” he breathes, lining himself up, dragging his thick head through your slick folds, teasing, testing. His forehead presses to yours, eyes heavy-lidded, dark with hunger.

“You want it, don’t you?” he rasps, nudging just barely at your entrance, enough to make you gasp. “Say it.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself against the solid warmth of him. His forehead stays pressed to yours, his breath hot, unsteady, as he keeps himself poised right at your entrance, refusing to move until you give him what he wants.

“Say it,” he murmurs again, voice deeper now, rougher. His cock throbs against you, thick and heavy, the head catching just enough to make your thighs twitch.

“Please,” you whisper, the word barely a breath.

His lips part, something dark and satisfied flashing across his face before he finally pushes forward, sinking into you with one slow, aching thrust. Your mouth falls open, a sharp inhale catching in your throat as he stretches you, your body molding around him, taking him in inch by inch.

“Fuck—” he exhales, his grip on your hips tightening, fingers digging into soft flesh. “That’s it… take it, love.”

His pace is slow at first, savoring the way you flutter around him, the way your nails press into his shoulders, clinging to him as if you’d fall apart otherwise. The fabric of your panties, still pushed to the side, rubs against the base of his cock with every movement, a delicious friction that makes his head spin.

“God, you feel so good,” he mutters, his lips brushing along your jaw, nipping at the delicate skin beneath your ear. “So fuckin’ tight around me.”

A broken moan escapes you, your hips rolling up to meet his, desperate for more. He grins against your skin, hands sliding up your waist before gripping beneath your thighs, angling you just right.

Then he moves—slow, deep strokes that have you gasping his name, your body trembling against his.

“That’s it,” he groans, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, how your lips part, how your eyes flutter shut. His own restraint is fraying, unraveling with every needy little sound you make. “Been thinkin’ about this, haven’t you? Been wantin’ me to fuck you just like this.”

You nod frantically, unable to form words, nails raking down his arms, your body burning beneath his.

He chuckles, voice laced with something dark, something utterly wrecked.

“Yeah,” he rasps, thrusting into you harder, deeper, his forehead pressing to yours once more. “Me too.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling deep in your belly as his hips snap against yours, slow and deliberate, dragging every inch of himself from your soaked cunt only to sink back in, stretching you all over again

Your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt, knuckles white, nails digging into the muscle beneath. He groans at the sting, at the way your body clenches around him like you never want to let him go.

"Fuckin' hell, love," he breathes against your lips, swallowing your moans as he kisses you, messy and consuming. "Look at you… takin’ me so damn well."

The words make your walls flutter, make him grunt as he buries himself to the hilt, keeping you pinned between the warmth of his body and the cool kitchen counter. Your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs, urging him deeper, harder, until you're nothing but gasps and desperate little sounds against his mouth.

His breath is ragged, his control slipping as he watches the way your body moves with his, the way your fingers tug at his hair, dragging him closer, as if you need him pressed into you, as if you want him to consume you whole.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, his voice raw. His grip on your waist tightens, his strokes turning more forceful, his cock hitting that devastating spot that has your back arching, a strangled moan falling from your lips.

"John—" His name breaks apart on your tongue.

"I know, sweetheart," he murmurs, forehead pressing to yours, sweat clinging to his brow. "I know—"

His hand snakes between your bodies, fingers pressing against the swollen bundle of nerves between your thighs, rubbing slow, tight circles. The pleasure spikes instantly, your body tensing, toes curling, the coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight.

"Come on, love," he encourages, voice rough, desperate. "Let me feel you. Let me have you."

Your breath shudders, your body bowing against his, and then you’re falling—pleasure ripping through you in waves, blinding and all-consuming. You clench around him, your walls milking him, dragging him to the edge with you.

"That's it—fuck—" His rhythm falters, his grip on you bruising as he thrusts deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he spills into you with a ragged groan, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he rides out the high.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your heavy breathing, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background, the warmth of his body pressing you down into the counter. His hands, rough and calloused, smooth over your trembling thighs, grounding you, keeping you there.

He exhales a quiet laugh against your skin, pressing a lazy kiss to your collarbone. "Christ, sweetheart," he mutters, voice spent, a little hoarse. "You’re gonna be the death of me."

You hum in amusement, fingers dragging idly through his damp hair. "Guess I should start making funeral arrangements, then."

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he pulls back just enough to look at you. His eyes are still dark, still hazy with what just transpired, but there’s something softer there, too. Something that makes your stomach flutter all over again.

His fingers ghost over your cheek before trailing down your body, adjusting your panties back into place with a satisfied smirk.

"You," he murmurs, brushing his lips over yours, "are trouble."