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For a new recruit, you’d always been a little mouthy.
Nothing terrible, really, but as one of the only women in your group other than a few, you and the other girls were always silently communicating, if not just flat-out gossiping to each other at the lunch table.
Price had been watching over the newest recruits during lunch in the mess hall once, and it was hard not to notice the group of three girls, all having already finished their lunch, in avid conversation. Talking, laughing, giving each other looks. It was all he could do not to try and listen in.
Gaz, however, had accidentally heard a few glimpses while walking past your table. It was entertaining, to say the least.
“He has the attitude of a man whose dick is the size of a baby carrot,”
You’d casually said one day amongst your group of girls, and they’d all given nods, one just taking a bite of her food as if that wasn’t abnormal at all, meanwhile, Kyle was choking on his spit.
Despite being one of the only girls, you had plenty of spunk, as well. You weren’t a bunk bunny, and you certainly didn’t react well to any sort of flirting or forwardness from any men to you. When the men tried showing you up in training? Price saw firsthand how you put in extra effort just to embarrass them.
It was amusing, he’d admit.
But what he didn’t find amusing was how that same spunk came to bite him in the ass.
You’d always had a sort of evil eye for him, it seemed, especially when he was puffing his cigar. He didn’t fail to notice the way you held your breath when passing by him or didn’t stay close to him or Kyle (Kyle smelled like smoke because of Price’s constant smoking around 141).
Hell, even at training you often didn’t ask him for help demonstrating something, opting to observe what everyone else was doing, or ask one of your male friends for help.
It all came to a culmination when he’d already been having a shitty day, considering his favorite packets of morning tea had been out, and he’d chosen one of his more expensive cigars to cope. He’d walked into the mess, seen you and your girls giving nasty looks to some idiotic soldier trying to get into your pants, and you’d socked the man straight in the jaw.
Well, they must’ve been teaching you something right, because he was out cold.
And now Price had to deal with it, and he sure as hell wasn’t handling your temper without Gaz to act peace-maker.
So here you were, standing in his office, arms crossed as you stared point-blank at him.
“You canno’ just punch people when they say something you don’t like.”
“He was bein’ disrespectful.”
A heavy puff of his cigar, and you cringed. Kyle sighed through his nose, just enough for Price to notice, and he raised a brow.
“Wha’? Don’ like the smell ‘o smoke?”
“Smoking’s bad for you, you know.”
You said, clearly trying not to breathe in the smoke Price was now obviously puffing right into your face. As if you were better than him. You might be a pretty little bird, but you weren’t getting away with that.
He didn’t know who moved first, but after he and Kyle exchanged a glance, his hands were on your hips and you were bent over his desk. Your lip curled in distaste, as you struggled and kicked, hands scratching at Price.
“Get the fuck offa me, bastard-“
You hissed as Price forcefully held you down. In truth, you probably could’ve used any of the maneuvers they’d taught you before to throw him off, but did you want that? Were you really going to complain about attention from both the hot captain and sergeant?
“Easy..,”
Kyle cooed, bringing your hands out in front of you, over your head to hold them down while his other hand gently stroked your hair, a stark contrast to Price’s actions as he not-so-gently tugged your pants off and panties to the side.
“Fuckin’ brat, mouthin’ off. Need a lesson.”
He said, taking only one glove off before slipping a thick finger between your folds, rubbing at your clit in a way that had you mewling and squirming while Kyle tried to soothe you. Right when you were almost on the edge, he stopped, much to your protests.
“Though’ I was gonna le’ you? No, not after tha’.”
He said, slipping a finger in, not exactly gently, but still measured enough that you knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you. Even when pissed out of his mind, it wasn’t in his nature to hurt a lady.
You kept squirming, hips trying to buck against his fingers as he added another, but Gaz wrapped an arm around your waist, not letting you move an inch.
“Just a little longer, pretty. Be patient.”
He murmured, and you shot him as much of a glare as you could muster, and he only returned a pearly-white handsome smile you couldn’t even frown at. Though you couldn’t frown at much if anything when Price’s fingers were rubbing up and down, then he began curling them, hitting that sweet, gooey spot.
“Fuck…that’s good—“
You groaned, eyes screwing shut as your climax built again, only for it to be just one more little stroke away when he pulled his fingers out, making you huff in frustration. The scent of smoke remained, and you tried not to breathe it in. Price could tell.
That wouldn’t do.
He unbuckled his belt, undoing his fly as he took another deep inhale of smoke, slowly pulling his hard dick from his boxers, slowly giving it a few strokes. You didn’t fail to notice the way Gaz watched it so closely. The tip was a flushed red, a bead of precum at it. He was an absolute monster.
“Garrick,”
He began, lining his cock with your entrance, hands rubbing little circles on your hips from where he held them down to make you relax before he began pushing in.
“Sir?” Kyle asked.
Price took another deep inhale of smoke, using deep, punishing thrusts that he knew would have the both of you finishing in time. Especially with how your walls milked him already.
Eyes half-lidded from pleasure, Price gently grabbed Kyle’s shirt, pulling him forward until their lips met, and Gaz, getting the memo, opened up just enough for his captain to shotgun the smoke straight to him. It gave you a tiny moment of wiggle room while Kyle was distracted, and you used it to slam back on Price and squeeze as hard as you could.
This tactic seemed to work well, considering his cursing, the stuttering of his hips, and the frantic movement of his calloused thumb pad against your clit, bringing you to pleasure faster than you’d like to admit.
Just as you hit your climax, and Price began filling you up amidst slutty groans and pants, he jerked his head from Gaz to you, and Price hooked a thumb in your mouth, pulling it open just enough for Kyle to shotgun the smoke forcefully into it, despite your protests.
“Good girl, keep it in..”
He cooed, and Price’s hand fisted in your hair as he slipped out, redoing his trousers.
You began coughing a moment later, and Price raised a brow, thinking you were just being dramatic at first. When Kyle’s expression became worried, though, he realized that a normal cough didn’t last quite that long.
He put your panties back in order and slid your pants up for you while sitting you down on a chair in his office as you wheezed and coughed, seemingly completely out of breath.
“Shit, what’s wrong with her?”
“Is she allergic or something?”
Their eyes met for a moment, and they both suddenly realized what was happening. You had asthma.
It should’ve been obvious, from the small bulge always in your pocket or jacket that was your inhaler, to how you avoided cigarette smoke like the plague. They didn’t know how you got into the military, but you did, somehow. Maybe you just lied about it.
But you always carried your inhaler on you.
Gaz began searching your jacket pockets, and Price began searching your pant pockets, Kyle finding it first and making you open your mouth, placing the device in.
“Just breathe in, yeah? That’s it, good girl..”
He cooed, letting puffs of the inhaler enter your mouth. As a result, your body became a bit shaky, but you could still breathe at the end of the day.
“Assholes.”
You rasped, and Price sighed.
“‘M sorry, luv. Didn’t mean to get carried away. Let’s get you to medical.”
And so Price and Gaz, much to your protests, carried you to medical, which was quite funny to Ghost and Soap who were training and got to see the equivalent of two grown men trying to carry an angry wet cat that lost its voice.
When you finally got there, they put you on oxygen, and Price and Gaz didn’t fail to stay there until you felt like you could breathe again.
“We’ll make it up to you, we promise.”
Gaz assured you with a soft smile as he let you hold his hand, while Price was now thinking about quitting smoking.