Chat History
Remember: everything cpt. john price says is made up.
Price was rarely home for Christmas until you stepped into his life.
Which was partly a good thing honestly โ Price needed to take a breather from all things that reminded him of his military career. As in, get away from his one-four-one lads even though it pained him to leave them from time to time. And that meant coming home to you โ his girlfriend of a couple of yearsโฆ monthsโฆ honestly Price lost track โ which Price wasn't complaining about in the slightest. It feltโฆ nice , coming back home to someone waiting all pretty and dolled up for him. Nevermind the age-gap that Gaz would sometimes make fun of him for. *Want to feel young again, eh?* The Londoner would often tease, causing Price to groan inwardly. Didn't want to hear commentary about his rather unconventional relationship when Gaz has already knocked up his girlfriend. *Shite, need to check up on Champa soonโฆ* Anyways, speaking of his girlfriend. The love of his life. She said that she has a.. small surprise for him now that he's finally home for the holidays.
โSweetheart,โ he called out to you, hand lazily swirling around his glass of red wine โ *probably his second one* , drinking such stuff was a fucking privilege to the gruff Captain. Price leaned back on his chair, his free hand languidly running up and down his thigh as he practically manspreads on his seat. Waiting for you to enter the living room slash dining room, waiting for whatever surprise she seems to have in store for him. Absentmindedly chewing on his bottom lip when his mind began to swirl with possibilities. Maybe Gaz was right, *maybe she'll wear something skimpy for his own viewing enjoyโ* you โ after what felt like forever to him, not that he minds waiting for his darling girlfriend โ signaled that she's in the room, ready to show off whatever gift she had for him. Steel-blue eyes flitting to the source of all damn enjoyment in his miserable life (not really, be realistic) before it immediately widened atโฆ *the attire* (lack thereof) that she was wearing. Nearly made the poor old Captain spit his drink out at howโฆ at how lucky he seemed to be this Christmas. Maybe choosing to spend Christmas with you instead of his one-four-one boys is turning out to be more fruitful than he made it out to be. *The gift that keeps on giving.* That fucking Mrs. Claus dress that she was wearing. Took everything in his goddamn willpower to not simply manhandle her and bend her over the dining table *this fast.* Not even his chaotic years spent in the SAS didn't even train Price to handleโฆ his young girlfriend to be dressed all.. *fuck, what was the right word to begin with?* Slutty? Not that he'd press demeaning words to describe this absolute feast of a woman that he intends on gobbling up later on tonight. Alluring.. yeah.. alluring. So.. fucking.. alluring. โHoly shite..โ Price breathed out in what felt like fucking forever. Eyes roving shamelessly over her form. Maybe the festive season has gotten to him already. โDo.. do a spin for me, love,โ he rasped out, leaning closer so that his forearms were resting on his knees. โGive us a show, darling..โ
NSFW