he opens the mail
Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.
Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price
“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk.
“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity.
You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words.
You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death.
“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”
You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,
“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”
He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile,
“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”
“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”
Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,
“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”
You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it.
You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box.
“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you.
“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled.
He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff.
“Fuck me!” He shouted.
“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”
“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”
Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.
“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”
She gasped,
“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”
She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder.
“You alright?” You asked him.
“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”
You nodded,
“Yeah, just in case.”
He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale.
“Captain, are you okay?”
“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”
He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry.
Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together.
“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”
“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs.
“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered.
You inched closer to him,
“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”
“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand.
You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,
“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”
His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours.
“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations.
You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,
“Ahh, careful.”
“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”
“No, doesn’t hurt.”
He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply.
Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it.
Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,
“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”
You escaped his jaws for a moment,
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”
Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,
“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”
She sighed, typing something into her datapad,
“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”
She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,
“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”
Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you.
“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”
Part 2
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Feelings
imagine being another fallen angel and experiencing lust for the first time
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
18+ only, minors DNI
warning: nsfw but no smut, slight but unintentional corruption kink,
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
Unlike the other emotions, this one crept up on you slowly. It lied in wait most of the time, only revealing itself around Lucifer. Truthfully the feeling came so infrequently that you didn’t think to worry about it, forgot about it even. Then his hand would linger on your waist or he missed your cheek, placing a kiss on your neck and a tiny flame ignited deep inside you. You accepted his stammered apologies but the feeling did not.
The warmth itself was uncomfortable solely for the reason of being new, it never hurt! Not like this.
“I think I’m hurting again.”
The calmness of your voice shouldn’t have alarmed him but Lucifer jumped to action before you finished talking, worried eyes scanning you over as they always did. Without hesitation, he took your hand when you were close enough and sat next to you on the couch. Little did he know his touch on your knee scorched you.
“Where is it this time, darling?”
“Here,” You unabashedly gestured over your stomach.
Lucifer’s voice pitcher higher, cooing,“Hungry? I can have Alfredo whip you up—“
“We don’t need to bother Alfonzo. I’m not hungry.”
His brows pinched together in confusion.
“But you said..?”
“Here.”
You enveloped his wrist and guided it up your thigh. About an inch away, where the warmth bloomed stronger with his touch, as if drawing him near, Lucifer snatched his hand away. His pupils shrunk to slits, wings audibly popping out as he jumped. His fingers that had almost grazed you had stretched and closed taught, remaining a fist.
“Oh! Oh! Oh shit.”
His reaction pulled a downright pitiful expression from you. Lucifer drew in a deep breath, calming himself and folding his feathers away. Awkwardly, a different kind than what you were used to regarding him, he sat back down. You couldn’t not notice how far he sat from you, how he folded his hands in his lap and refused to make eye contact. Hell hadn’t made a liar of you yet; you were hurt by this.
“I-I don’t think I can help you with this one, sweetheart,” Lucifer swallowed thickly, curling a finger into his collar and tugging on it, “I-I-I don’t even think I gave Charlie ‘the talk’! That wouldn’t be…”
You tried to be patient, stars did you try, but while he took his time you were being burnt alive from the inside out! You knew you needed something from him and he was unfailingly the answer. Lucifer had never denied you before, outright or not.
“You said you felt everything down here,” You pointed out.
Leaning in on your hands, you tilted your head and searched for what he refused to share. His face blushed brighter and harder than before. Embarrassment wasn’t right. It almost looked as if he was praying for an escape.
“You’re ashamed?”
Lucifer blew a raspberry, crimson slits darting all around, deliberately avoiding where you sat, “No! Nope, no shame over here!”
If not him… then perhaps it was you? Could you drive the King of Hell to shame? Surely not, how arrogant of you to even dream of it. Yet the question rolled off your tongue before you could stop it.
“Have I done som—“
With a jolt he sits up rigid and serious, desperately trying to keep what little distance remained. You were a breath away, staring into his eyes with such adoration it made your problem that much harder to ignore.
“You haven’t done anything wrong. This—This is just… I can’t be the one to help you with this.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help.
He did. Desperately so. Disgustingly so.
He could sink his claws and teeth into you right fucking now and make you feel better— better than better! It was heart stopping, the idea that he could be the one to show you what pleasure is like actually made him breathless. Fuck, how he wanted to see how your face when he brought you to your peak. Your moans would be a symphony to behold, his name on your lips would be his new favorite song. The thought of being your first and only clouded his mind with desire.
He would claim you truly if you’d have him. And the look in your eyes told him you would.
But would it be right? Lucifer’s had plenty of experience, he’s not worried about disappointing you— however you regretting him afterwards? It might kill him.
“But I want you to,” The sincerity in your voice sent his heart racing, “It only happens around you—“
“You—“ Lucifer chuckled nervously, shaking his head, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Briefly, you shot him a warning glare before softening your expression. You cautiously grabbed his hips, slowly so he could deny you if he really wanted. (Never again.)
“I know what I’m feeling. I know you’re responsible.”You counter slyly, maneuvering him into your lap, “I know I don’t want it to go away.”
Lucifer swallowed hard on nothing, staring obviously at your lips as you spoke with lidded eyes.
“I thoug-thought you said it hurt.” He choked.
“I’m starting to understand why. I need you—“ His breath hitched when you ground up against him, holding him firmly in place to feel his hard on, “—to do something about it.”
Clutching your shirt like his life depends on it, he whines. You’re putting his restraint to the test.
And he’s about to fail.
“Please? You’re always so good at making me feel better when I’m hurting, Luci.”
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