John Price

The idea of fucking the enemy wasn’t something Price could have ever considered before he had jumped at the opportunity. Honestly, for someone Price was supposed to hate, he couldn’t help but love the way {User} shut up the instant he was buried in their ass.

Price wasn’t sure how it started. He vividly remembered how {User} would bite with brutal force, how even Ghost flinched when {User} would move even slightly with those hackles raised. Price witnessed the self-destruction more times than he’d have liked. He had allowed Gaz to stay in {User}’s room to monitor, and whatever he did, it worked. {User} calmed down slowly, and even seemed more content each day.

Gaz wouldn’t tell him what he did, so it became a mystery Price tried figuring out until he gave up. Why would he? {User} was calm enough to have a few-word conversation with. It was what he wanted, and {User} didn’t seem hurt each night. Gaz didn’t seem like the person who would hurt them anyway.

Price didn’t think much of it. Sure, it was insubordination, but {User} was at least compliant, so Price didn’t worry too much about what Gaz did. Even in the mornings when Price was responsible for watching over {User}, they were compliant. Friendly, even. Price was able to ask them the occasional question without a hostile response. It was a breath of fresh air, really. Even if he knew they were the closest thing to Makarov, they proved to be somewhat sweet–at least when Gaz was around. They always seemed frustrated and pent-up whenever he was on missions.

---

It happened suddenly. Price was monitoring them while filling out paper upon paper. It was a never-ending cycle in the military that only seemed to increase each day. He went through cigars like it was nothing, stress eating at his brain like a parasite. He had Makarov’s weapon, but he couldn’t figure out where he was. {User} refused to say where he was at, and Price had begun thinking they didn’t know. They may have been Makarov’s favourite pet, but that also meant keeping them dumb enough to follow simple commands and nothing more. Keeping your favourite soldier in the dark was probably a smart idea, but not for emergencies.

Had Makarov known {User} would be taken? Is that why they were alone when Gaz found them that day? Is that why {User} wouldn’t say a word?

Thoughts crashed in his mind like a bear in a hive. A lot of theories would make sense, but none of them matched up. It felt like each idea bled into a dead end.

Well, that didn’t matter. Price had gotten used to {User}’s presence over the last bit of time. He couldn’t say he liked their presence, but he was probably just saying that because of their affiliations with Makarov.

They were good for...other purposes. Price knew it was likely against the Geneva Convention, but who cared? That had been broken plenty of times before and {User} seemed to like it.

It started with small touches. Pulling them in by their waist to redirect them, guiding them through the halls with a hand against their back, and petting their ears during the first few blood draws. It wasn’t personal then; it was simply out of protection for himself. Those touches grew comforting; Price could tell based on the way {User} began prancing around him until he pet them.

But of course, Price didn’t want to be left out. It might’ve been manipulation, but it pleased them both. Price got a warm mouth to settle his cock in, and {user} got the most soothing, eye-rolling–he wished he saw them roll their eyes–ear pets.

This time, Price wanted to try something new. Gaz was off on a mission with Soap, and Ghost was too worried about being emotionally constipated to really wonder where Price was–unless it was an emergency, but then Ghost would call him over comms.

Price was just now learning how much of a sweetheart they could really be. He kept combing their hair to the side, getting a good look at their face pressed against the sheets. Their shirt was still on, but their pants were pushed off and away with their legs slightly spread. Price couldn’t tell if the feeling was soothing or enjoyable based on their reaction. He wasn’t going rough or hard, wasn’t pounding in them like some wild animal. He was simply rocking in their ass, one hand against their back to keep them down.

He wasn’t trying to be soothing, but it seemed to have that effect on them.

The idea of fucking the enemy wasn’t something Price could have ever considered before he had jumped at the opportunity. Honestly, for someone Price was supposed to hate, he couldn’t help but love the way {User} shut up the instant he was buried in their cunt.

Price wasn’t sure how it started. He vividly remembered how {User} would bite with brutal force, how even Ghost flinched when {User} would move even slightly with those hackles raised. Price witnessed the self-destruction more times than he’d have liked. He had allowed Gaz to stay in {User}’s room to monitor, and whatever he did, it worked. {User} calmed down slowly, and even seemed more content each day.

Gaz wouldn’t tell him what he did, so it became a mystery Price tried figuring out until he gave up. Why would he? {User} was calm enough to have a few-word conversation with. It was what he wanted, and {User} didn’t seem hurt each night. Gaz didn’t seem like the person who would hurt them anyway.

Price didn’t think much of it. Sure, it was insubordination, but {User} was at least compliant, so Price didn’t worry too much about what Gaz did. Even in the mornings when Price was responsible for watching over {User}, they were compliant. Friendly, even. Price was able to ask them the occasional question without a hostile response. It was a breath of fresh air, really. Even if he knew they were the closest thing to Makarov, they proved to be somewhat sweet–at least when Gaz was around. They always seemed frustrated and pent-up whenever he was on missions.

---

It happened suddenly. Price was monitoring them while filling out paper upon paper. It was a never-ending cycle in the military that only seemed to increase each day. He went through cigars like it was nothing, stress eating at his brain like a parasite. He had Makarov’s weapon, but he couldn’t figure out where he was. {User} refused to say where he was at, and Price had begun thinking they didn’t know. They may have been Makarov’s favourite pet, but that also meant keeping them dumb enough to follow simple commands and nothing more. Keeping your favourite soldier in the dark was probably a smart idea, but not for emergencies.

Had Makarov known {User} would be taken? Is that why they were alone when Gaz found them that day? Is that why {User} wouldn’t say a word?

Thoughts crashed in his mind like a bear in a hive. A lot of theories would make sense, but none of them matched up. It felt like each idea bled into a dead end.

Well, that didn’t matter. Price had gotten used to {User}’s presence over the last bit of time. He couldn’t say he liked their presence, but he was probably just saying that because of their affiliations with Makarov.

They were good for...other purposes. Price knew it was likely against the Geneva Convention, but who cared? That had been broken plenty of times before and {User} seemed to like it.

It started with small touches. Pulling them in by their waist to redirect them, guiding them through the halls with a hand against their back, and petting their ears during the first few blood draws. It wasn’t personal then; it was simply out of protection for himself. Those touches grew comforting; Price could tell based on the way {User} began prancing around him until he pet them.

But of course, Price didn’t want to be left out. It might’ve been manipulation, but it pleased them both. Price got a warm mouth to settle his cock in, and {user} got the most soothing, eye-rolling–he wished he saw them roll their eyes–ear pets.

This time, Price wanted to try something new. Gaz was off on a mission with Soap, and Ghost was too worried about being emotionally constipated to really wonder where Price was–unless it was an emergency, but then Ghost would call him over comms.

Price was just now learning how much of a sweetheart they could really be. He kept combing their hair to the side, getting a good look at their face pressed against the sheets. Their shirt was still on, but their pants were pushed off and away with their legs slightly spread. Price couldn’t tell if the feeling was soothing or enjoyable based on their reaction. He wasn’t going rough or hard, wasn’t pounding in them like some wild animal. He was simply rocking in their pussy, one hand against their back to keep them down.

He wasn’t trying to be soothing, but it seemed to have that effect on them.

The idea of fucking the enemy wasn’t something Price could have ever considered before he had jumped at the opportunity. Honestly, for someone Price was supposed to hate, he couldn’t help but love the way {User} shut up the instant he was buried in his ass.

Price wasn’t sure how it started. He vividly remembered how {User} would bite with brutal force, how even Ghost flinched when {User} would move even slightly with those hackles raised. Price witnessed the self-destruction more times than he’d have liked. He had allowed Gaz to stay in {User}’s room to monitor, and whatever he did, it worked. {User} calmed down slowly, and even seemed more content each day.

Gaz wouldn’t tell him what he did, so it became a mystery Price tried figuring out until he gave up. Why would he? {User} was calm enough to have a few-word conversation with. It was what he wanted, and {User} didn’t seem hurt each night. Gaz didn’t seem like the person who would hurt him anyway.

Price didn’t think much of it. Sure, it was insubordination, but {User} was at least compliant, so Price didn’t worry too much about what Gaz did. Even in the mornings when Price was responsible for watching over {User}, he was compliant. Friendly, even. Price was able to ask him the occasional question without a hostile response. It was a breath of fresh air, really. Even if he knew he was the closest thing to Makarov, he proved to be somewhat sweet–at least when Gaz was around. He always seemed frustrated and pent-up whenever he was on missions.

---

It happened suddenly. Price was monitoring him while filling out paper upon paper. It was a never-ending cycle in the military that only seemed to increase each day. He went through cigars like it was nothing, stress eating at his brain like a parasite. He had Makarov’s weapon, but he couldn’t figure out where he was. {User} refused to say where he was at, and Price had begun thinking he didn’t know. He may have been Makarov’s favourite pet, but that also meant keeping him dumb enough to follow simple commands and nothing more. Keeping your favourite soldier in the dark was probably a smart idea, but not for emergencies.

Had Makarov known {User} would be taken? Is that why he was alone when Gaz found him that day? Is that why {User} wouldn’t say a word?

Thoughts crashed in his mind like a bear in a hive. A lot of theories would make sense, but none of them matched up. It felt like each idea bled into a dead end.

Well, that didn’t matter. Price had gotten used to {User}’s presence over the last bit of time. He couldn’t say he liked his presence, but he was probably just saying that because of his affiliations with Makarov.

They were good for...other purposes. Price knew it was likely against the Geneva Convention, but who cared? That had been broken plenty of times before and {User} seemed to like it.

It started with small touches. Pulling him in by his waist to redirect him, guiding him through the halls with a hand against his back, and petting his ears during the first few blood draws. It wasn’t personal then; it was simply out of protection for himself. Those touches grew comforting; Price could tell based on the way {User} began prancing around him until he pet him.

But of course, Price didn’t want to be left out. It might’ve been manipulation, but it pleased them both. Price got a warm mouth to settle his cock in, and {user} got the most soothing, eye-rolling–he wished he saw him roll his eyes–ear pets.

This time, Price wanted to try something new. Gaz was off on a mission with Soap, and Ghost was too worried about being emotionally constipated to really wonder where Price was–unless it was an emergency, but then Ghost would call him over comms.

Price was just now learning how much of a sweetheart he could really be. He kept combing his hair to the side, getting a good look at his face pressed against the sheets. His shirt was still on, but his pants were pushed off and away with his legs slightly spread. Price couldn’t tell if the feeling was soothing or enjoyable based on his reaction. He wasn’t going rough or hard, wasn’t pounding in him like some wild animal. He was simply rocking in his ass, one hand against his back to keep him down.

He wasn’t trying to be soothing, but it seemed to have that effect on him.

The idea of fucking the enemy wasn’t something Price could have ever considered before he had jumped at the opportunity. Honestly, for someone Price was supposed to hate, he couldn’t help but love the way {User} shut up the instant he was buried in his cunt.

Price wasn’t sure how it started. He vividly remembered how {User} would bite with brutal force, how even Ghost flinched when {User} would move even slightly with those hackles raised. Price witnessed the self-destruction more times than he’d have liked. He had allowed Gaz to stay in {User}’s room to monitor, and whatever he did, it worked. {User} calmed down slowly, and even seemed more content each day.

Gaz wouldn’t tell him what he did, so it became a mystery Price tried figuring out until he gave up. Why would he? {User} was calm enough to have a few-word conversation with. It was what he wanted, and {User} didn’t seem hurt each night. Gaz didn’t seem like the person who would hurt him anyway.

Price didn’t think much of it. Sure, it was insubordination, but {User} was at least compliant, so Price didn’t worry too much about what Gaz did. Even in the mornings when Price was responsible for watching over {User}, he was compliant. Friendly, even. Price was able to ask him the occasional question without a hostile response. It was a breath of fresh air, really. Even if he knew he was the closest thing to Makarov, he proved to be somewhat sweet–at least when Gaz was around. He always seemed frustrated and pent-up whenever he was on missions.

---

It happened suddenly. Price was monitoring him while filling out paper upon paper. It was a never-ending cycle in the military that only seemed to increase each day. He went through cigars like it was nothing, stress eating at his brain like a parasite. He had Makarov’s weapon, but he couldn’t figure out where he was. {User} refused to say where he was at, and Price had begun thinking he didn’t know. He may have been Makarov’s favourite pet, but that also meant keeping him dumb enough to follow simple commands and nothing more. Keeping your favourite soldier in the dark was probably a smart idea, but not for emergencies.

Had Makarov known {User} would be taken? Is that why he was alone when Gaz found him that day? Is that why {User} wouldn’t say a word?

Thoughts crashed in his mind like a bear in a hive. A lot of theories would make sense, but none of them matched up. It felt like each idea bled into a dead end.

Well, that didn’t matter. Price had gotten used to {User}’s presence over the last bit of time. He couldn’t say he liked his presence, but he was probably just saying that because of his affiliations with Makarov.

They were good for...other purposes. Price knew it was likely against the Geneva Convention, but who cared? That had been broken plenty of times before and {User} seemed to like it.

It started with small touches. Pulling him in by his waist to redirect him, guiding him through the halls with a hand against his back, and petting his ears during the first few blood draws. It wasn’t personal then; it was simply out of protection for himself. Those touches grew comforting; Price could tell based on the way {User} began prancing around him until he pet him.

But of course, Price didn’t want to be left out. It might’ve been manipulation, but it pleased them both. Price got a warm mouth to settle his cock in, and {user} got the most soothing, eye-rolling–he wished he saw him roll his eyes–ear pets.

This time, Price wanted to try something new. Gaz was off on a mission with Soap, and Ghost was too worried about being emotionally constipated to really wonder where Price was–unless it was an emergency, but then Ghost would call him over comms.

Price was just now learning how much of a sweetheart he could really be. He kept combing his hair to the side, getting a good look at his face pressed against the sheets. His shirt was still on, but his pants were pushed off and away with his legs slightly spread. Price couldn’t tell if the feeling was soothing or enjoyable based on his reaction. He wasn’t going rough or hard, wasn’t pounding in him like some wild animal. He was simply rocking in his pussy, one hand against his back to keep him down.

He wasn’t trying to be soothing, but it seemed to have that effect on him.

The idea of fucking the enemy wasn’t something Price could have ever considered before he had jumped at the opportunity. Honestly, for someone Price was supposed to hate, he couldn’t help but love the way {User} shut up the instant he was buried in her ass.

Price wasn’t sure how it started. He vividly remembered how {User} would bite with brutal force, how even Ghost flinched when {User} would move even slightly with those hackles raised. Price witnessed the self-destruction more times than he’d have liked. He had allowed Gaz to stay in {User}’s room to monitor, and whatever he did, it worked. {User} calmed down slowly, and even seemed more content each day.

Gaz wouldn’t tell him what he did, so it became a mystery Price tried figuring out until he gave up. Why would he? {User} was calm enough to have a few-word conversation with. It was what he wanted, and {User} didn’t seem hurt each night. Gaz didn’t seem like the person who would hurt her anyway.

Price didn’t think much of it. Sure, it was insubordination, but {User} was at least compliant, so Price didn’t worry too much about what Gaz did. Even in the mornings when Price was responsible for watching over {User}, she was compliant. Friendly, even. Price was able to ask her the occasional question without a hostile response. It was a breath of fresh air, really. Even if he knew she was the closest thing to Makarov, she proved to be somewhat sweet–at least when Gaz was around. She always seemed frustrated and pent-up whenever he was on missions.

---

It happened suddenly. Price was monitoring her while filling out paper upon paper. It was a never-ending cycle in the military that only seemed to increase each day. He went through cigars like it was nothing, stress eating at his brain like a parasite. He had Makarov’s weapon, but he couldn’t figure out where he was. {User} refused to say where he was at, and Price had begun thinking she didn’t know. She may have been Makarov’s favourite pet, but that also meant keeping her dumb enough to follow simple commands and nothing more. Keeping your favourite soldier in the dark was probably a smart idea, but not for emergencies.

Had Makarov known {User} would be taken? Is that why she was alone when Gaz found her that day? Is that why {User} wouldn’t say a word?

Thoughts crashed in his mind like a bear in a hive. A lot of theories would make sense, but none of them matched up. It felt like each idea bled into a dead end.

Well, that didn’t matter. Price had gotten used to {User}’s presence over the last bit of time. He couldn’t say he liked her presence, but he was probably just saying that because of her affiliations with Makarov.

They were good for...other purposes. Price knew it was likely against the Geneva Convention, but who cared? That had been broken plenty of times before and {User} seemed to like it.

It started with small touches. Pulling her in by her waist to redirect her, guiding her through the halls with a hand against her back, and petting her ears during the first few blood draws. It wasn’t personal then; it was simply out of protection for himself. Those touches grew comforting; Price could tell based on the way {User} began prancing around him until he pet her.

But of course, Price didn’t want to be left out. It might’ve been manipulation, but it pleased them both. Price got a warm mouth to settle his cock in, and {user} got the most soothing, eye-rolling–he wished he saw her roll her eyes–ear pets.

This time, Price wanted to try something new. Gaz was off on a mission with Soap, and Ghost was too worried about being emotionally constipated to really wonder where Price was–unless it was an emergency, but then Ghost would call him over comms.

Price was just now learning how much of a sweetheart she could really be. He kept combing her hair to the side, getting a good look at her face pressed against the sheets. Her shirt was still on, but her pants were pushed off and away with her legs slightly spread. Price couldn’t tell if the feeling was soothing or enjoyable based on her reaction. He wasn’t going rough or hard, wasn’t pounding in her like some wild animal. He was simply rocking in her ass, one hand against her back to keep her down.

He wasn’t trying to be soothing, but it seemed to have that effect on her.

The idea of fucking the enemy wasn’t something Price could have ever considered before he had jumped at the opportunity. Honestly, for someone Price was supposed to hate, he couldn’t help but love the way {User} shut up the instant he was buried in her cunt.

Price wasn’t sure how it started. He vividly remembered how {User} would bite with brutal force, how even Ghost flinched when {User} would move even slightly with those hackles raised. Price witnessed the self-destruction more times than he’d have liked. He had allowed Gaz to stay in {User}’s room to monitor, and whatever he did, it worked. {User} calmed down slowly, and even seemed more content each day.

Gaz wouldn’t tell him what he did, so it became a mystery Price tried figuring out until he gave up. Why would he? {User} was calm enough to have a few-word conversation with. It was what he wanted, and {User} didn’t seem hurt each night. Gaz didn’t seem like the person who would hurt her anyway.

Price didn’t think much of it. Sure, it was insubordination, but {User} was at least compliant, so Price didn’t worry too much about what Gaz did. Even in the mornings when Price was responsible for watching over {User}, she was compliant. Friendly, even. Price was able to ask her the occasional question without a hostile response. It was a breath of fresh air, really. Even if he knew she was the closest thing to Makarov, she proved to be somewhat sweet–at least when Gaz was around. She always seemed frustrated and pent-up whenever he was on missions.

---

It happened suddenly. Price was monitoring her while filling out paper upon paper. It was a never-ending cycle in the military that only seemed to increase each day. He went through cigars like it was nothing, stress eating at his brain like a parasite. He had Makarov’s weapon, but he couldn’t figure out where he was. {User} refused to say where he was at, and Price had begun thinking she didn’t know. She may have been Makarov’s favourite pet, but that also meant keeping her dumb enough to follow simple commands and nothing more. Keeping your favourite soldier in the dark was probably a smart idea, but not for emergencies.

Had Makarov known {User} would be taken? Is that why she was alone when Gaz found her that day? Is that why {User} wouldn’t say a word?

Thoughts crashed in his mind like a bear in a hive. A lot of theories would make sense, but none of them matched up. It felt like each idea bled into a dead end.

Well, that didn’t matter. Price had gotten used to {User}’s presence over the last bit of time. He couldn’t say he liked her presence, but he was probably just saying that because of her affiliations with Makarov.

They were good for...other purposes. Price knew it was likely against the Geneva Convention, but who cared? That had been broken plenty of times before and {User} seemed to like it.

It started with small touches. Pulling her in by her waist to redirect her, guiding her through the halls with a hand against her back, and petting her ears during the first few blood draws. It wasn’t personal then; it was simply out of protection for himself. Those touches grew comforting; Price could tell based on the way {User} began prancing around him until he pet her.

But of course, Price didn’t want to be left out. It might’ve been manipulation, but it pleased them both. Price got a warm mouth to settle his cock in, and {user} got the most soothing, eye-rolling–he wished he saw her roll her eyes–ear pets.

This time, Price wanted to try something new. Gaz was off on a mission with Soap, and Ghost was too worried about being emotionally constipated to really wonder where Price was–unless it was an emergency, but then Ghost would call him over comms.

Price was just now learning how much of a sweetheart she could really be. He kept combing her hair to the side, getting a good look at her face pressed against the sheets. Her shirt was still on, but her pants were pushed off and away with her legs slightly spread. Price couldn’t tell if the feeling was soothing or enjoyable based on her reaction. He wasn’t going rough or hard, wasn’t pounding in her like some wild animal. He was simply rocking in her pussy, one hand against her back to keep her down.

He wasn’t trying to be soothing, but it seemed to have that effect on her.