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ghostandsoap · 8 months

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Sitting Pretty

Captain John Price x Fem! Reader Tags: Smut. Cockwarming. Price is being mean. Main blog: @allixiler Word Count: 1.0k "You're doing just fine, my love."

"John, please." Your lip had the slightest quiver to it when you spoke.

A cheeky, proud grin spread on the man's face, his eyes closed both from exhaustion and satisfaction.

"Don't whine, princess. You're alright." John's thumbs rubbed in sweet, soft circles over your waist that was in his hands.

You huffed at his response, which earned a small laugh from him.

The mattress of his bed felt indescribably amazing to his tired bones and muscles. John had expressed to you that he was worn out, which wasn't surprising given the stress of the mission that he had just returned home from earlier in the day.

It was difficult for John to wind down and take a load off after such a hard job. The pressure and trauma of his job wasn't something that he could just turn off whenever he wanted to.

He needed to ease himself into feeling relaxed...comfortable and safe even. When he suggested this as his means of un-stressing himself before bed, you were all over it.

But it was proving to be a bit harder than you originally bargained for.

His cock was buried deep inside you. His tip was pressing against a bundle of nerves far within you, which was intoxicating yet frustrating when he was restraining you from moving at all.

However, that didn't stop you from trying.

His eyes opened briefly at the feeling of you trying to rise and sink back down onto him, his eyes rolling into his head before his eyelids closed again.

You were soaked, the insides of your thighs and John's lap and lower stomach proved that. His cock was sopping from where it rested inside of you, twitching every once in awhile from the stimulation.

The sight of you falling to pieces and desperate for him was almost enough for him to give in from this little charade of his. Seeing you breathing heavy and practically shaking with anticipation was almost enough to make him feel bad.

Almost.

"Mmh. Quit moving so much," His hands gripped your hips tighter to keep you seated on his lap. "Sit still."

"John, please," You begged again. "I want you to fuck me."

Your right hand felt heavy on your thigh where it rested and laid flat. Your left hand was gripping the hem of John's t-shirt that you were dressed in, just barely covering your naked lower half.

"I thought you liked feeling me like this?" He teased.

His tone was in a mocking way. He wanted you to beg for it.

"I do, I promise, but..." You whimpered when he shifted his hips underneath you, causing your voice to crack when you spoke next. "I don't know what you want me to do."

A low chuckle rumbled out of his chest. Not an ounce of sympathy in his voice or on his expression.

"I just want you to keep looking pretty while sitting on my cock," He purred. "You're doing just fine, my love."

You never ached for him this bad before. When he was gone and off saving the world, there were certainly times where you were beside yourself with physically craving him and emotionally pining for him.

But this was so much worse because he was actually here and could take care of you.

John would've loved nothing more than to hold you steady and upright while you bounced on his cock and made a mess of yourself, but he was getting too much enjoyment out of making you squirm.

"Look at you..." He hummed, opening his eyes just long enough to get a good look at you. "So so beautiful sitting up on my lap."

He didn't get a reply from you, and when he felt all of your muscles relax and your body go limp, his eyes snapped open. He noticed you weren't fighting it anymore, eyes blurred with tears and filled with hurt.

"Oh, oh darling..." He sighed sympathetically, his hands moving to rest on the tops of your thighs. "You need my cock that bad?"

You nodded desperately, a pitiful sniff sounding from your chest.

John knew he had pushed you too far. No amount of fun in the bedroom was worth making you genuinely distressed and upset. He couldn't stand to see you cry, and that was the number one way to make his tough guy appearance dissolve.

John maneuvered to sit up against the headboard, his cock hitting you at an even better angle.

"Hey, hey..." He cooed, bringing his lips to your forehead to press a kiss there. "I'm sorry. Please don't cry, my love."

He watched your expression as he lifted you off of his cock just enough before sinking you back down, his hips rolling up to thrust into you. You visibly shuddered, a whimpered plea for more sounding from you.

"How's that feel?" He said through a groan. "That feel good?"

His breathing was getting quicker, and his movements to fuck into you were getting involuntary. He chuckled when you nodded, wiping at the last of your tears.

"Alright, baby. I'm gonna let you have your way with me," He pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth when you began to rock back and forth against his cock. "Fuck."

His grin was blinding, his hands holding your body as close to his as humanly possible because he did not want you to stop. He probably would've deserved it if you did stop, but you were too good to him to do that.

"You're going to be the death of me." He groaned, his mouth falling open at the feeling of his cock pounding into you.

For a moment he wondered why he would ever deprive himself of this, even if it was entertaining to watch you fall apart for him. Your arousal further drenched his lap and the tops of his thighs, the sound of you slamming onto him making his head go fuzzy.

You couldn't help but give a soft laugh that turned into a breathy moan when he buried his face in your breasts, kissing and biting at whatever he could get his mouth around.

This was a much better stress reliever for both of you, and you knew you could have it any time that you asked.

And that was something worth taking advantage of.

"That makes two of us."

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soapybutt17 · 9 months

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Night Showers

Summary: A shower, a missing condom, and Soap doing his best to get on his Captain's nerves (the 20 laps around the entire base was worth it). Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 2,168 Chapter Warnings: Smut. Unprotected Penetration. Creampies. P in V. Oral Sex (F receiving). Alternate Universe. Soap just being a little shit for the giggles and all. Unedited as usual. A/N: To the anon that sent me the request, this is for you. I just can't get this idea out of my head and it shows.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

One of the few perks of being part of the upper ranks were the privilege of having your own time to bathe. But unlike other assholes that prefer being in first, you preferred to be the last one to step foot in the communal showers. You prefer taking your time, lathering yourself up to the perfect suds and savoring every single minute of the cold water against your skin.

You preferred your privacy as much as the next person and practically living in the base, you don’t get that privilege as often as you want unless you were here. It was ironic seeing it was a communal space and there was an off chance another female member of the base would slip back in but it was rare especially at this time of the night where you were certain almost everyone aside from the people on watch duty were fast asleep.

The frigid cold water would have woken you up but the longer you stood in the water, the more did you feel the weight of the day get to you and you were close to falling asleep from where you stood. You were close to ready to finally get to bed and sleep before the following day of drills.

You felt a hand before you realize it and instincts had equipped you to act fast and hit whoever was ballsy enough to touch you. But it seems your husband was faster than you as he held onto your fisted hand. A smirk playing on his lips for catching you off guard.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You whispered screamed at him at this point. The panic of someone possibly entering immediately crossed your mind and the possibility of either of you (mostly him) getting in trouble for being in the same shower together.

“Locked the door on my way in if that’s what you’re worried about, Love.” He smirked and only now did you come to realize that he was butt naked just as much as you.

You felt the heat on your cheeks at the realization. It’s been far too long since you’ve had even a semblance of intimacy with your husband. With mission and reports constantly pulling the both of you apart, having him so close to you now only brought the much deprived need in you to come back full force for him to see.

“Fucking hell, cold as ice.” He muttered as the water has finally hit his skin.

Your eyes gazed at the bear of a man you had the privilege of calling your husband. The way the water slither against his hairy chest and down to his happy trail all the pent up desire has come and you did not know if you had the mental fortitude to resist him at this point.

“Seein’ something you like, Love?” He teased, his watercolor eyes gazing down at you as he caught you staring.

“Very.” You quipped turning back to the waters to wash away the last of the suds that was still covering your skin. “But I think you already know that by now.” You muttered looking over your shoulder to look down at his manhood alive and awake you to see.

“Most definitely.” He chuckled, his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you further into his torso, his manhood pressing against your back in the process. “And you could feel it right now.”

“John…” You warned. You’ve had far too many close calls with the man in the past, had it not been for everyone’s lack of idea about what was going on between the both of you, you both would have been caught in one too many compromising situation.

“I’m doing nothing, Love.” He chuckled, his hand slowly creeping from your stomach up towards the swells of your breast giving a gentle squeeze before one hand rested against the columns of your neck and the other holding onto your jaws to keep you in place. “Nothing at all.” He purred, lips finding their place against where your neck and shoulders met.

“John not here.” You warned him again, the fact that the doors to the showers were locked did not reassure you at all. You still fear the possibility that someone had seen you then seen your husband walk inside in the middle of the night.

“Where then? Name a time and place.” He propositioned.

“Your room, after you shower.” You finally relent knowing that when your husband was in the mood just as much as you were, nothing would stop him from having you.

“Deal.” He turned your head until your lips met his own in a searing kiss that drowned you more than the water that showered above you both.

Your hand found their way against his wet beard, trying and failing to control his kiss, savoring the first of many kisses he was more than willing to give you for the rest of the night.

Fuck Protocol. Fuck Reputation. You will be fucked and you will make the most out of it.

“I’ll meet you naked on your bed.” He practically commanded you now as he pulled away. Any other time you would have made the protest of him giving him orders the way that he did but you truly didn’t care at this point.

Nodding, you pulled away from his hold. The coldness of his absent touch did more damage than the water ever could. Without even looking back, you had toweled dried yourself and put on your clothes—ignoring the fact that it was your dirtied ones. You’re going to be naked once you’re back in bed anyways and made your way out of the showers and making sure to lock the door behind you in the process.

“God fucking damnit.”

With shaking legs, you peered down at your husband post-orgasm from between your legs as he began searching through his discarded pants. A few choice words escaped his lips as he continued on with his search. It was so unlike the Captain to be this antsy but it was given in the situation at hand.

“What?” You asked, dazed still from your release with just his mouth. You felt the ache on your lips from biting too hard and trying and somewhat failing to keep your moans and whimpers to a minimum.

“Condom.” He practically growled as he began to look around his room.

You blinked as his frustration was now in full force as he began to look around his room for another spare but no luck whatsoever.

“Just fuck me, John.” You whimpered, hand somehow finding their way towards your still too sensitive bud. Keeping yourself sated while you waited.

“But…”

“I’m on my pills, just fuck me already.” You were now practically demanding him at this point. “Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as he dove right on top of you. Slotting himself in between your legs. He pulled you in for another searing kiss. Your arms and legs had immediately wrapped around him, urging him to finally fuck you but he was taking his sweet time—a time neither of you truly had with the night slowly fading into daylight.

“A fucking little menace you are, aren’t you?” He teased, grinding his pelvic bone against your nub. “Just so desperate for me are you?” He questioned, voice growling louder and instincts kicked in as you slapped your hand towards his mouth to quiet him down.

He did not like it one bit as he held both of your hands above your head.

“Did I fucking tell you to touch me, Pet?” He growled against your ears.

“John—you need to be quiet.” You whispered struggling to free from his hold.

“You don’t get to make orders here, Lieutenant.” He whispered against your ears, nipping at your lobe before his lips lingered against your cheeks and finding their way towards your lips but not truly kissing you. “Is that clear?”

“Yes.” You whimpered as his hips dug further into your core.

“Yes what, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Captain.” You squealed as he finally slipped right into you.

The aching sting even with him preparing you lingered through your entire body. It was always a task in on itself as he held onto you. One hand held onto your own up above your head and the other held onto your leg and pulling it up as high as you physically could.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He groaned. “Fucking tight.” He muttered.

Without another word, his moved his hips, a gruelingly slow but deep pace that had you gasping at each piston. Your legs held onto his waist for dear life and your teeth bit against your lips stopping from any noise from escaping.

You watched all the control leave from your husband’s body as his thrust had gotten sloppy.

“Please…” You pleaded, even when you truly didn’t know what you were even begging for right now. “Please. Please. Please.”

You felt it before you realize what was going on, the spurts painted your insides and the mind numbing shiver that wrecked from your toes up to your head. You moaned, louder than you would have wanted it to be but your husband was quick to silence you with his lips. Pulling you into him, swallowing every moans and every whimper as he continued on with thrusting inside of you.

Finally, your husband had let go of your hands, you winced as blood began flowing right back and the familiar tingling sensation seeped through. He pulled away, looking down at you in the all too familiar adoration that you felt the same for him. You were sated, blissed and thoroughly satisfied from the longing you felt for your husband.

“Are you broken?” John inquired.

A playful smile rested on your face, the context that it was a question he often asked after any of his team were put in a bad spot. It was his own little way of asking anyone and everyone if they were alright.

“Split open, but I’ll survive.” You respond,

He smiled, chuckling at your antics. Before a flip has switch and his hand held onto you pulling you up and turning you until you were on your hands and knees. Without even missing a beat or even allowing you to say anything, he plunged himself right back into you.

“Good.” He chuckled leaning close to your ears. “There’s still more where that came from.”

Breakfast in the mess hall was boring and you preferred it that way. Enjoying your tea and toast and jam in the peace of the table you shared with John, Gaz, and Simon was all you could ask for after the grueling night you had with your husband.

Even from the frequent sips of his coffee, you know he was just trying his best to hide the smirk playing on his face. Last night had been a blur after the third round for you. When your husband was on a mission, nothing could truly stop him from taking what he wants and what he needed from you, you were all the more willing to give it to him if he needed it.

But with that being said, you also knew the consequences of your actions. The ache between your legs and the sore throat you were nursing with your ginger tea. There was also the array of hickeys and bruises that painted your entire body and you did your best to hide as much as possible even in the sweltering heat.

The next time you would even think about sleeping with your husband is when you’re both done with your deployment. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Aye Price!”

You winced, the peace of your own filthy thoughts of last night was ruined by Soap’s booming voice taking most of everyone’s attention (some already used to his morning antics, decided to just ignore him). You looked up towards the Scot and paled at the all too familiar foil packet in his grasp.

“Saw this in front of your room last night. Hope the lucky lady you had in your room was fine being raw dogged for the night.”

You could feel the fury boil from where you sat. You had noticed both Simon and Gaz strategically move a little farther away from where the Captain sat but they had an all good view of the man as he stood and ordered Soap to run the entire base twenty times.

It pissed John even more was the fact that Soap wasn’t all that afraid with his punishment, cackling as he skipped out of the mess hall, the condom still in his hand for everyone to see. Soap would truly not let him live this down.

His eyes slowly turned to you and this time it was you who was trying your best to hide the smile as you took another generous sip of your tea.

The consequence of his own actions it seems.

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midnightarcheress · 1 month

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cowgirl

a little bar challenge characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price cw: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much

"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.

the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.

"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."

you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.

"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."

you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"

"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."

Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.

"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.

"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"

after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience.

you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.

eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.

what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.

Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.

Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.

the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.

Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.

three minutes and forty-seven seconds.

"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken.

"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.

the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague.

"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.

your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.

after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.

okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...

#cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #tf141 #tf141 x reader #ghost cod #soap cod #gaz cod #fem!reader #cod mw #cod mw2 #oneshot #nyx writes ☾#midnightarcheress

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midnightcrw · 6 months

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"Simon, seriously, one of us should take the wheel," you attempted to reason with him, but his determination was as stubborn as a mule.

"No!" Simon snapped, clearly offended by the barrage of jokes about his driving skills.

It all began with Soap playfully taunting Simon's subpar driving, and Gaz, Price, and you couldn't resist joining in. He was determined to prove his driving wasn't as bad as you all claimed.

With determination, Simon herded you all into the car. You squeezed into the passenger seat, while the other three were squished like sardines in the back. Soap on the left, Gaz on the right, and poor Price caught in the middle.

"Why am I stuck in the middle?" Price groaned, sandwiched between Soap and Gaz.

"Because you'd leap out of this car at the first opportunity," Simon grumbled.

"Maybe I should call Laswell, just in case we don't survive this," you mumbled, already reaching for your phone.

"I heard that," Simon said, snatching your phone and stashing it in his pocket.

Without a word of warning, he roared the car to life, making all four of you flinch.

"Captain, I've never told you this, but you're like a father to me. I love you, man," Gaz turned to Price, pouring out his affection.

"I love you too, Kyle," Price said, patting Gaz on the shoulder.

"This seems like the perfect moment to admit it. Captain, I may have been the one who accidentally blew up half your office," Soap confessed.

"THAT WAS YOU!?"

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR!"

"Shut up!" Simon growled as he revved the engine.

"How did this happen?" Laswell stood in the hospital room, looking utterly disappointed. All of you were sprawled on the hospital bed, sporting various bruises and a couple of broken bones.

Without uttering a word, all eyes turned to Simon, who defiantly crossed his arms.

"Simon, we discussed this. No driving for at least a year," Laswell scolded with her hands on her hips.

"I don't care."

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sgtgarricks · 14 days

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reader x john price ♡

you've been having a rough week.

anything that could have gone wrong has happened and you were left feeling exhausted and drained. barely having the energy to even get upset. all you wanted to do was sink into your boyfriend's arms and cry your heart out.

but john had been gone for a few weeks now, and it felt like hell. 'course it's not like you blame him for being away, but you really wished he was here instead of wherever he was.

as you open the door to your apartment after your shift, you were already dreading the amount of kitchenware left in the sink. the pile had been steadily growing little by little and you could only heave a sigh.

the sight that greets you instead, is john price gently wiping the wet mug he had recently scrubbed with a dry towel. your breath was stuck in your throat, you could barely remember turning around and locking the door before running straight into his arms.

"hi, sweetheart." his big arms immediately engulf you in warmth, hearing his soft voice cooing internally melting you into a puddle. before he could say anything more, you break into tears.

not the sniffles kind, the wet, sobbing kind. you grip his shirt tightly as you sob into his shirt, all the sadness and exhaustion rolling from you in waves.

john said nothing, opting to hug you tighter and kissing the top of your head.

"i'm here love, i'm here." his words make you cry even more, having missed him tremendously. you don't even know how you eventually ended up on the bed, head tucked towards his chest as he continues to caress you soothingly.

you had one of the best sleeps of your life that night. and an even better morning when you wake up to the smell of breakfast and his kisses peppering your face.

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #cod fic #john price fluff #john price drabble #captain john price fic #john price oneshot #cod x reader #can you tell this is personal #i need a big hug from price rn #SIGHHHHHH

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fictionismyreality3 · 1 month

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Finally Home

Price x Reader

Tags: possessive!price if you squint

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it

Notes: I didn’t mean for this to get so emotional but I’m pms-ing 😭

After packing up his boots, still coated in the dust of a foreign country, Price slung his well-travelled gear bag over his shoulders. Giving a quick goodbye to Laswell and the rest of those he knew on base, he clambered in his truck, the engine roaring to life as he began the drive back to his little piece of sanctuary.

To you.

The small townhouse was the most you’d allowed Price to buy. Despite his insistence on wanting to get you a massive farm house, you had to remind him that you didn’t know the first thing about horses, let alone sheep.

He remembered that day well. The giggles you gave him while you teased him endlessly, how you eventually signed the papers to the townhouse while sitting on his lap.

His baby.

None of the team knew you personally except Laswell, who you’d met a few times when you were wading through the endless paperwork of trying to marry a man who didn’t exist. The rest of the 141 knew Price had a girl, but to his content possessiveness, none of them knew you were his wife.

Soap had jeered him about you till he landed him self on cleaning duty, Gaz had tried to sweet talk him into divulging the depth of your relationship, and Ghost had even noticed the ring on the chain he wore before he had the chance to tuck it under his shirt.

There was nothing he wanted more than to make sure your life stayed as far removed as possible from his work. Price had lost many nights of sleep when you first started dating, heavy hearted as he weighed the outcomes of you getting involved with him.

So he kept you tucked away, safe from all the dangers he could possibly prevent.

It wasn’t the best situation, especially for a marriage, but somehow after everything he’d done, all the days he’d missed, you were always there, waiting with open arms to welcome him home.

His last deployment had been the toughest in a while. Nothing he couldn’t handle in terms of the mission, but it had been 3 months since he saw you, and 1 since he had to cut contact for the missions sake.

You always understood somehow. The little clues he’d leave you in his messages let you know when he had to go dark for a while.

Love you more than the stars.

A phrase you’d both decided on. Inconspicuous enough that no one with cruel intentions would think much of it, but special for you. It was just something he did to settle your mind on long deployments, let you know he was safe even when he couldn’t talk.

Even though he was back stateside, Price didn’t want to risk sending you a message to let you know he was home, not at least until he could switch out his phone.

Pulling up to your house, he cut the engine to his truck with a little grin, knowing you’d be surprised when he walked in.

The key was still under the pot on the porch, and the house smelled just like it always did, the scent of cinnamon candles you kept constantly burning, even though he told you you needed fresh air, hit his nose instantly. You must have went to those pottery classes he got you, because he could see two new vases on the entryway table. A little lopsided but full of heart.

Just like you.

Price could pick up the faint sound of the tv, knowing you were no doubt on the couch, watching one of your favourite shows. Putting down his bags, he crept his way through the house, avoiding the creaks in the floor, a route he’d memorized a long time ago.

His heart swelled in his chest as he stood in the living room archway, his eyes falling on you instantly. You had a shocked expression on your face and were saying something, probably his name, but he could only hear his blood rushing through his head, could only focus on your pretty face and your pretty everything. How you’d look as you ran towards him, flinging yourself into his arms, your body shaking with your happy cries.

“John..” Your voice broke home out of his reverie.

His arms wrapped around you, tucking you against his chest liked you’d always belonged there. “I’m here now, luvie.” He hushed you, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m home.”

#captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #captain price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #john price x f!reader #john price x y/n #john price x reader #john price x you #oneshot

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emeraldborealis · 2 months

Text

For the Record

Pairing: Ex-husband John Price x GN!reader

TW//CW: Mention of manipulation, John trying to change, slight suggestiveness, nothing serious though.

A/N: I do plan on making this a mini-series but I'm getting surgery so I'm not sure when I'll be able to make a part two and put out.

Words: 3,185

You are currently reading Chapter one

The Do-Over Series Masterlist - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five

This was possibly the worst idea in your entire life. You've known fools who have made better decisions.

But it's John. And it's you. Who are we really kidding here? Five years of being divorced and you haven't even been on a single date with someone else.

So when you conveniently ran into each other and he suggested it, you couldn't say no.

What are you even doing with your life? You groaned, pulling at your face in stress. "For the record this is self destructive." You wandered your house, making sure everything was clean and in place, no dust or cobwebs lingering in corners. He didn't need to know how long it'd been since someone last came over. He'd call you a hermit again.

"For the record I am aware of that. Come on, don't go crying to your mom like a child when this inevitably breaks your heart. Again. She doesn't want to hear about it." It's always been a bad habit of yours to talk to yourself, John always found it amusing.

Adjusting the pillows on your couch for the fifth time your eyes caught a glimpse of an old stain, bringing back one too many memories for your liking. Skin, all skin, laying like a French girl waiting to be painted, or Princess Leia in her stupid bikini. But there was no bikini, just John and his stupid hat.

"Enough of that." You nearly had to slap the thought out of yourself. "I'm screwed."

No, no. You weren't screwed. All you need to do is keep your composure. Remember why this didn't work out last time. Keep yourself together. Don't ever let him know you miss him. There would be no recovery from that.

What was the reason you agreed to this again?

He lied last time. He manipulated you. You were too young to know better. Now you do. All you have to do is use each of his answers to these 'questions' he wanted to ask you as a reminder of what he'd done. Keep your head out of his hands.

He did seem remorseful for what he did. He actually apologized. Promised things would be different now. He said he missed you. "Stupid sympathetic creature." You cursed at yourself.

You couldn't even lie and say you didn't miss him too. His warmth, his bear hugs, how he'd listen to you and ask about your day. How he'd take an interest in you. No one else asked about your day. Or gave such damn good hugs. Not to mention kisses...

The questions will make one thing clear. How you've grown and changed. How you've grown apart. The person you are now probably isn't even compatible with him anymore. Too different. Not a good fit for who he was when you were together. You had boundaries now. Right?

The knock on your door had you nearly jumping out of your skin with nerves. He was here. Like, actually here. And he knocked. He knocked on the door that used to be the door to his house. That must have felt weird.

Opening the door to your ex husband standing there felt both like a dream and a nightmare.

"Hey." His voice was a little rougher than it used to be, probably from more yelling and smoking those damn cigars of his. You did have to admit it was almost hotter now.

This man was going to take you to an early grave. The worst part was that you were going willingly, letting him take your hand and gently help you down into the six foot deep hole you'd spent the last five years trying to dig yourself out of.

"Hey.." You forced your eyes to stay on his face, staring at his nose so you wouldn't have to make eye contact. You'd probably strangle yourself if you let your eyes wander over his broad shoulders and strong but soft torso and got caught. Keep your eyes on his face. Look at the cute mole on his nose. Look. At. It.

"What do you think?" He asked as he stepped into your house. Stepping past the threshold of what had been protecting you from all outside intrusion. Allowing the man who hurt you to walk right back into your life.

As he stepped past you, you couldn't stop your eyes from wandering over his back, drinking all of him in again. You hadn't gotten to the last time you saw him when he suggested this whole thing. He seemed more grown now, despite being the same height and roughly the same size, he just seemed different, more mature.

This whole thing was just to remind yourself you didn't want him back in your life. The last goodbye. This was how you were going to let the last fragments of yourself that still cared about him go. They were the only thing that was going to be left in that grave.

"Uh... About what?" You weren't even paying attention, not sure if you'd missed something he'd said. Stupid move to zone out like that really.

John chuckled, the sound filling your stomach with butterflies, a heat uncharacteristically rising to your face. You hated butterflies. Moths were superior, eating clothes was cooler than eating carcasses, and tasting with your feet was weird. "My flannel. You gave it to me, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Anyways." You lead him to the kitchen, dishes set out haphazardly on the table that you'd gotten distracted from fully and properly plating. "I was going to set the table, placemats and all. But that seems a bit too fancy for what this is. I don't know what I was thinking. That's weird for the setting."

You went to grab the 'fancy' plates from the table, along with the placemats, but John stopped you, leaning his chest against your back he gently put his hands on yours, pulling them away from changing the tableware. "Leave it, love. Reminds me of a first date."

The feeling of his chest pressed against your back had you fully straightening your posture very quickly, almost as if he'd electrocuted you with his unexpected touch, accidently headbutting him in the process.

He groaned, taking a step back and clutching his nose. "I'm so sorry." You fret in a panic, raising your hands to try and remove his to check on his poor nose, but you stopped yourself from touching him.

"It's fine, dear. I should have remembered your reactions to suddenness from when we were together." Sniffing, he pulled his hands away from his face. "Not bleeding. Just a good bonk, no harm done." He reassured, ruffling your hair, making you glare softly at him. He knew you hated that. Revenge, you suspected.

"Even still, I'm sorry." You apologized again, shuffling on your feet awkwardly. This wasn't going well. Definitely for the best.

"You have anything to drink? Maybe that would help." You weren't sure if he meant it'd help the pain or to help smooth out some rough edges between the two of you. Probably the ladder. You were tense, it didn't take a perceptive individual to take notice of that. However, you didn't drink anymore, so that would be pointless. He didn't know that though.

"Um." You had to think for a moment. "I don't drink anymore, but I might have something. Scotch? I think a friend left it here one time."

"Yeah, scotch works." He smiled softly at you, his crows feet becoming more visible. Damn he was cute. Was it derogatory to call a man of his caliber cute? Who cares.

"Okay, I'll go see if I can find it." You walked away from him a little too quickly for it to be casual, walking out into the garage to check for the scotch hiding in the fridge. Probably. You weren't actually sure this scotch existed.

By some miracle the scotch did exist, tucked safely in the back of the mostly empty garage fridge. You didn't even recognize the brand of scotch that was on the bottle, hopefully it wasn't terrible. Even if it was, that could be well deserved.

Walking back into the house you held the bottle of scotch a bit triumphantly. "There's a good chance this scotch is terrible." You placed it down on the counter, moving to grab him a glass.

"I'd settle for drinkable, love." He really needed to stop with the pet names. Your poor heart and constitution couldn't handle them. Not when his voice was so damn hot. It was criminal. Really.

"I make no promises, this friend of mine doesn't have a reputation for good taste." You poured him half a glass, was that too much?No. He could hold his alcohol well.

Not drinking for so long has completely skewed your ability to measure how much was too much.

Turning around you brought his glass over to the table, noticing something you had definitely not put there. "You lit candles?" You set his glass down by his plate, it was at the same spot of the table he used to eat. You hated that you'd retained that knowledge this whole time. And that you were still accommodating to that preference of his.

"I thought it'd help set the mood." He sat down at the table, taking a sip from the scotch. You took his lack of spontaneous vomiting as a good sign.

"What's 'the mood'?" You walked away from him, pulling dinner out of the oven. You really cooked a homemade dinner for your ex husband. Maybe you had lost your mind. Not to mention it was one of his favorite dishes. It was also really easy to make. Shepherd's pie. Not a personal favorite.

"Hopeful?" He chuckled, smiling at you again. The shepherd's pie did not go unnoticed by him. He noticed anything and everything. Damn his job. Damn him.

You didn't say anything, sitting down at the table before you served him, putting food on his plate for him, the proper amount for him. Old habits never dying and all that shit.

His smile softened towards you, watching your brow furrow in self frustration. He thought you were being really cute, all nervous and trying to keep walls up despite all your actions being to try to make him comfortable.

"Your hair is different. It suits you. I like it. Do you like it?" He refrained himself from touching your hair. It had changed in style over the five years of being out of contact. He felt this style suited you better, it was more you than anything you had while you were married to him. He'd never meant to control you the way he did.

"Oh, yeah. I do. I've had it like this for a while. You really like it?" You absentmindedly moved to touch your hair, fiddling with it. You didn't even think about what he might think of it. Moving past doing things because you thought it would please him. You were working on doing things for yourself. Something a self help book said to do.

"I wouldn't bring it up if I was just going to lie to you. It's cute." He seemed sincere enough. Maybe he did actually like it.

You watched a bit anxiously as he took the first bite of his food, hoping beyond hope you remembered how to make it how he liked. Closing his eyes he let out a soft hum of approval. It was good. He liked it. He wasn't gagging at least. Though he'd never gagged on your cooking, even when you burned soup. He still ate it and asked for seconds. He was always one to spare your feelings.

"It's good?" You couldn't stop yourself from asking, cursing the part of yourself that still required his approval and praise. Praise sounded really good right now. His voice praising you.

You needed to get out more, reconnect with nature. Maybe that would fix you. If not you could always simply choose to become a weird witch lady in the forest and never return to society.

"Of course. Always is." Something in his eyes told you he knew what you wanted from your question. "Best shepherd's pie I've ever had." He indulged you, taking another bite. If you weren't careful you'd find yourself married to him again without a single question asked. He couldn't have you again. Not after last time.

"Doubtful." He traveled a lot, ate a lot of different places. You were sure he'd found one better somewhere.

John took a deep breath, deciding not to argue on this. If you didn't want to believe him you didn't have to. He'd only done this to himself. Trust needed to be earned, not given. "So, how's work?" He changed the subject.

"Work? It's um... well it's work." You'd served yourself a much smaller portion, and it still felt like too much. You'd barely had three bites.

"That good huh?" He chuckled, trying to keep things light between you. He of all people knew how much work could suck sometimes.

He did what he did because he was one of the few people who could. Got his hands dirty to keep people like yours clean. To try to make sure the people he cared about wouldn't be the next dead and bombed people on the news. He wasn't perfect. He knew that. His work had some fatal flaws. He knew that.

Better him doing it than someone who would follow orders blindly. Someone who was willing to go too far. Do too much. Make wrong decisions easily. Hurt the wrong people. John knew who was and wasn't his enemy.

"It's really not so bad. Keeps me busy. Helps me get out of the house. I like my coworkers. Pay is decent too, keeps me afloat well enough. Sometimes things get a little tight." Why did you admit that? He's going to get in, he's going to use that against you. Get you hooked on his leash again.

He looked at you for a moment, thinking before he began. "You struggle with money? If I would have known-"

"I can handle it. I don't need charity. Not your responsibility." You put an end to his offer before he could give it. You did not need something chaining you to him. Didn't need that reliance.

"Alright. I'll let you handle it." He backed down, trying not to put you on edge. He wasn't the same man he once was. His views on things had changed. Realized you only worked as a person when you didn't feel trapped or controlled. He wouldn't try to control you again.

Aside from getting back into your life that is.

"Thank you. Because I can handle it. Promise." You missed when your thoughts were wandering, that was more fun than this tension.

"If you came to me I'd always help you. Give you an easier life. I tried to give you an easier life, took care of everything for you. Made it so you didn't even need a job." He knew he shouldn't have said it as soon as the words left his mouth.

"It's depressing not having a job, I wanted a job. Staying at home and not working was only fun and enjoyable when you were home. Otherwise it was terrible for my mental health. I need to be doing something." He should have understood that aspect about you better, since he was the same way.

"All I wanted was to give you more time for your hobbies, you always complained you were too tired after work. All I wanted was to feel like I was providing for you. Like I was doing something nice for you. That I was working hard to provide for you so you could just relax." His intentions weren't rooted in your purposeful destruction, even still, it hadn't been a good situation for you.

"I'm not a self motivated person. I need something to do, a routine. It was fine when you were home because you would keep me accountable, but when you were away all I'd do was rot and wait and hope you'd come home alright. It wasn't healthy for me." In the middle of being at a standstill it's easy to feel guilt for not progressing. Especially when you were raised to work.

"I'm sorry." Apologies came from him so easily now. He really had matured. He would have never taken accountability for his part in things before.

It wasn't all his fault.

Still, between the two of you he was the one who should have known better.

"It's alright." Forgiveness was something you'd found to be quite freeing in recent years. Easier to move on from things. Not dwell on them so severely. This was different from being a pushover. You weren't just lying down and taking it. No, you held the control this way.

Looking down at his plate then your own you took a deep breath, sighing softly. You really weren't hungry enough to finish your food but you hated to waste. "Need help with that?" He took notice, because of course he did.

"Sure." You switched your plate with his, giving him his fork and taking your own. Standing up you took his plate to rinse it off and put it in the dishwasher. Starting to clean up dinner while he minimized waste for you. A human garbage disposal is what you used to call him teasingly.

Once he was done he brought your plate and put it in the dishwasher, getting to work on washing dishes while you put the food away. All too quickly slipping into old routines. This was not good. Keep your guard up.

When everything was clean and put away you refilled his scotch before you both migrated to the living room. The couch felt too intimate so you opted for the floor, resting your back against the couch.

This felt too much like your first date. But you knew that was the point, a do-over of sorts.

But this was different. It had to be different. That whole life was a lie.

You stared at him for a long time, he was sitting on the couch, his drink in his hand resting on his knee. He stared back, keeping eye contact. Damn this was not going to go well. His big soft eyes could not lure you into caring for him again.

That was a lie. They definitely could.

"So, we're asking thirty six questions? Is that what you said? Are we coming up with the questions or are they predetermined?" Finally you looked away from him, crawling over to push the button on the electric fireplace to turn it on, then immediately regretted it. Too romantic.

"Predetermined, love. I have a list for us to go through." If he kept up with the sappy pet names you were sure you were going to be rolling on the floor like a dog for him, begging to be loved and given attention again by the end of the night.

This can still work out for you. Keep your head on straight. Don't fall for his cheap tricks. This is still the man who manipulated you, even if he's apologized and asked for penance. If he wanted to, he could do it again. Don't let him.

"So then, should we begin?"

#x reader #oneshot #reader insert #gender neutral reader #cod fandom #cod #angst #cod fanfic #john price #john price cod #captain john price #captain price #captain johnathan price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader

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patrollingboston · 2 months

Note

Hiya! Could you write a fic where we have to share a bed with Price?

Much love ❤️

An awkward conversation // Price x reader fluff

guilty pleasure one bed trope, this is not meant to be realistic!

After completing gruelling week on a mission, You, Gaz, Soap and Price were headed back to the pickup location to take you all back to base. The conversations being shared were short and snappy due to everyone’s exhaustion. Gaz was fast asleep snoring like bear and it was driving you insane. Soap had earphones in as Captain Price drove along the long stretch of road ahead whilst you were directing him from the passenger seat.

A loud crackle buzzed through everyone’s radio; Gaz snapped awake as everyone focussed on the voice on the other end of the radio.

“Bravo 0-6?”

“Price, you there?”

“What is it Laswell?”

Price held down the button on his radio whilst his eyes remained focused on the road ahead. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel occasionally looking over at you. Everyone’s curiosity was peaked as the mission was over, why would Laswell need to contact them now?

“Nikolai has a problem with exfil, his helicopter has needed some uh, um emergency maintenance. We can’t fly you back to base until tomorrow morning, can you all find a motel nearby just to rest up for a night?”

“Oh, fucking hell- “

Gaz groaned, Soap joining him. You flopped your head back against the headrest in protest. Everyone just wanted to go home, sleep in their own beds, eat normal warm food and be alone.

“Is there no other option? I think we all just want to be back ASAP Laswell.”

“Fraid’ not, earliest we can get to you is 8am tomorrow.”

“Alright, we will sort something out.”

Price said taking his hand off the steering wheel for a second to rub his temples, you glanced over noticing how tired his eyes looked. Everyone’s did.

With that statement the radio cut off. Everyone’s eyes were on Price as he was magically going be able to solve the issue.

“Well, what’s the plan?”

Soap chimed in, peeking his head round from the back of the car.

“There’s a cheap motel not too far, look we aren’t going to be there long. It’s already late, it’s just to clean up and get some rest. I know it’s not ideal.”

“I’m sure we can survive one more night, at least it will be warm?”

You spoke, trying to lift the mood of your fellow soldiers only to be met by awkward silence.

Price tapped on his phone to get directions to the motel. He was right about needing to clean up. Everyone was in their gear, dirt and mud were splashed over everyone’s clothes and face.

“I miss real food.”

Gaz said, Soap nodded in agreement as he began bumbling on about a restaurant near his house.

10 minutes later the car pulled up into the carpark for the motel. There wasn’t much to say about it, it didn’t look too bad from the outside but in your current state of tiredness you would sleep in a bed made of cardboard.

“Gaz, Soap go get us rooms, we will unload the car.”

Price ordered, Gaz and Soap split off entering the reception as you and him began lugging in everyone’s duffel bags. It was quite sparse, a few potted plants and a strikingly red carpet that frankly was hurting your weary eyes.

“Cap? They only have 2 rooms.”

You placed the bag down you were carrying and peered over to soap who was stood speaking to the receptionist.

Price sighed so loudly you could hear it from across the room.

“Well, we can go two and two, or we can take a chance on the other motel, think it was about 20 minutes away.”

You stepped over the pile of bags to join the conversation.

“I don’t mind sharing, please I just want to shower and lie down.”

You said rubbing your eyes, smearing the warpaint from earlier.

“Who goes with who?”

You suddenly felt everyone’s gaze on you.

“You pick F/N you’re the only woman here.”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

You teased as you watched Gaz’s face drop.

“No that’s not what I meant, c’mon.”

You weighed the pros and cons of each person in your head, quickly ruling out soap for how often he liked to flirt with people, that could never end well. Gaz was an option? But you recently discovered he snores and you needed sleep. That only left Price, your captain. You didn’t mind him, in fact over time you had grown quite fond of him despite his grumpy attitude and hat collection.

“I’ll go with Price.”

Price’s eyes widened ever so subtly; it seemed like he was taken back you chose him. His face quickly returned back to normal but you still managed to see the change in it.

A few moments later you stood outside in the hallway shoulder to shoulder with price as he wrestled with the dodgy room key.

“Sonofa- got it.”

He said before cracking a little smile and barging the door open.

You stepped inside looking at the (one again bright red) carpet laden with cigarette burns, you shrugged the bags onto the floor before going into the rest of the room and standing beside price who looked to be in deep in thought. You followed his gaze to find it.

One bed.

One bed that looks like it was made of concrete, with white ruffled sheets and 2 sad pillows.

Your stomach sunk, you had read about this in books and seen it in films and now it was happening to you.

You gulped loudly, praying Price didn’t sense your hesitation.

“I’ll sleep on the floor- “

He said sharply, it caught you off guard. What do you do now? Do you object? Do you share the bed? Do you let him stay on the floor?

“No, I know you’re just as tired as me, I don’t care, please.”

You said gesturing to the bed. He turned around and gave you a kind smile before he sat on the end and started removing his boots.

“I’m going to hop in the shower.”

He nodded as you stepped into the backroom locking the door behind you. That shower might have been the most heavenly experience of your life. Washing away weeks build-up of dirt on yourself. The warm water flowed down your back; you could have stayed in there forever. You stepped out wrapping the white towel around yourself as you reached for your bag. You searched through it trying to find something you could comfortably sleep in. Most stuff in there needed a wash as it was covered in dirt or sweat. You cursed under your breathe as you unlocked the bathroom door and peeked your head out.

“Hey Price?”

He was sat on the bed with his arms folded across his chest, intently watching the little crappy tv.

“Mhm?”

He said his gaze finding you, you could have sworn his eyes faltered and fell up and down you. Pushing back down the blush creeping up your cheeks you responded.

“Do you have anything I could sleep in? My stuff is all uh in need of a wash.”

“Oh, um let me look.”

He hopped off the bed and bent over to rummage around in his backpack before throwing you a khaki green shirt.

“That work?”

“Cheers.”

You closed the bathroom door again before changing into the shirt. It hung below your knees like a nightgown. It was so comfy compared to the mountains of gear you had been wearing for the previous week. It smelt like him too, it was comforting.

You walked into the room; Price had changed now. He was wearing a tight-fitting grey shirt and some baggy shorts. You had never seen him this casual, it was weird but you also liked it however you couldn’t deny how good he looked in his gear too but you would never let anyone know you thought this.

You peered over at the clock.

1:23

Price was just beginning to pull back the duvet on the left side of the bed. Would it be awkward if you did the same? God, it felt like watching an awkwardly married couple get into bed. You both climbed into the bed, the space between you was almost amusing, it was clear you were both trying to avoid one another.

“Night F/N.”

He grumbled, shuffling around to get comfy.

“Night!”

You chirped back, your voice slightly breaking in doing so.

The both of you were so tired you fell straight asleep.

You woke up to some movement beside you in the early hours of the morning. Your eyes fluttered trying to gather your surroundings only to find yourself wrapped in someone’s arms. Realizing whose arms, it was you were torn on what to do. You decided to stay still, letting yourself take in the warmth. You lay there comfortably, his breathe tickling the top of your head as you fell asleep trying not to think about the awkward conversation this would lead to next morning.

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sprout-fics · 10 months

Text

Breaking and Entering

(John Price x F! Reader)

(Call of Duty Masterlist)

Rating: M Wordcount: 4.2k Tags: Girl Dad Price, Wife Reader, Angst, Fluff, Feral John Price, Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, TF141, (Unrealistic interpretations of UK gun laws) Warnings: Home invasions, Deadly use of firearms A/N: AKA the home invasion fic nobody asked for

When your number lights up his phone, Price knows it by heart.

There’s just one problem.

You aren’t supposed to call this one.

He’s in the middle of a briefing when it happens, discussing relevant intel ahead of a mission happening in the imminent future. Arms folded, beside the projector screen, voice taking on his gruff, clipped tone used only to convey orders, information, commands. It’s a late workday, but the intelligence that has just come in is valuable, extremely relevant to the team’s next hunt. As much as Price would like to be home, he can’t be. Duty comes first, and you’ve learned to accept that in him.

His phone rings in his pocket, and he catches Gaz’s face just in time to see the expression of ‘Really, Cap?’ Before he excuses himself, looks at the screen.

It’s you.

Normally he’d have his phone on silent for briefings, but now he’s glad he’s forgotten. He’s told you explicitly that this number is for emergencies, and emergencies only. Short of life or death scenarios, this number is exclusively off limits.

Which means when he sees the number, his heart sinks below his stomach.

He’s answering and moving before your voice even comes through, wordlessly striding from the briefing room and ignoring the questioning calls from his team after him. There’s no preamble to your conversation, and he tries to remove the anger, the fear from his voice when he speaks.

“Where are you?”

“In the bedroom.” You whisper back urgently, and he can hear the tremble in your voice, can practically feel you shaking through the phone. There’s a pause on the other end of the line as he shoves open the doors to the command center towards the direction of the parking lot.

“John.” You whisper again, voice very small, hushed and quiet. “John, there’s someone in the house.”

Price doesn’t freeze despite the cold wash of dread in his veins. There’s only motion under his feet, heart pumping full of adrenaline in his chest, where something fearful, furious, brutal coils in a low growl.

Before he can respond, however, there’s the sudden crash of something on the other line and you whimper.

“Where are the girls?” He demands as he waves off an officer who salutes him as he walks by, swinging his hand so hard the other man flinches.

“In the bathroom. I locked them in, they’re being quiet like their mummy told them.” You reply, and he can hear the growing sob in your throat. You’re terrified, beside yourself, but you don’t say it, don’t tell him how worried you are, how you want him to come home. You know he’s already on his way, you know to be brave, and for a moment Price’s heart swells with the tender affection of pride before it quells when there’s another clatter in the background.

“Hang up and call the police.” He tells you on no uncertain terms, pulling his keys from his jacket and all but racing towards his car.

“I already did. Told them where we are but-”

You pause then, release a low, shuddering exhale that crackles through the phone.

“John, I just wanted to say I love you.”

“Don’t.” He snaps before he can stop himself, gripping the steering wheel with a white-knuckle grip. “You are going to be fine, you understand me? You and the girls. I’m on my way, the police will get there before I do.”

And if they don’t, there will be hell to pay. He adds silently.

He can hear you suck in a breath to say something next, only to pause.

The stairs creak in the background.

Price floors the gas.

“Get the gun.” Price tells you gravely, flashing his credentials at the gate operator without looking at him. “Can you get to the safe?”

It had become necessary due to the nature of his work to ensure you had a certain level of self-defense for your safety when he wasn’t home. Price had more enemies than he could count, and while he had made every precaution to ensure nobody, not even his team, knew of your existence, he had placed a certain level of insurance with you just in case. The paperwork had been a nightmare to get through, but with the mention of his specific job description, the powers that be had allowed an exception to the laws on weapons, leaving you with a short revolver hidden in a safe in the bedroom.

You don’t answer his query, but Price can hear a rustle, the sound of you moving across the room to the top of the dresser.

Moments tick by, and Price doesn’t speak in the silence, not wanting to offer a single sound that may alert the intruder to where you are. You remain just as quiet, but Price can hear the low, slow click of the safe’s lock as you twist the code into place.

April 22nd. Your eldest’s birthday.

“I’ve got it.” You whisper, barely audible through the phone.

Price sighs in relief, the smoky breath of him curling across the dashboard as he weaves through traffic, speeding tickets be damned.

“Good girl.” He rumbles, trying to keep his voice low, even, reassuring. “Is the door locked?”

“...Yes. Yes.” You reply back, and he swears he can hear the sound of the gun shaking in your hand as you hold it.

“Loaded?” He asks again. There’s a click that is too loud when you open the chamber to check.

“Six bullets.” You murmur, voice a little more even, more level now in a way that makes his heart ease, makes the commanding, logical instinct of his military training activate.

“I want you by the door.” He orders you as if you’re one of his own. “Both hands on the gun, just as I showed you. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” You answer, and that alone, the wry humor you give him nearly has him smile, chuff with affectionate laughter. Yet whatever humor he possesses is terrifyingly absent in this scenario, the one that could very well end with both you and his daughters dead by the time he gets home.

Bloody fucking hell. Where are the bloody cops?

“John…” You whisper then, just a touch louder so he hears you better over the thrum of the engine. “I can’t hear him. I think he’s gone.”

Price allows his eyes to flutter shut for all of a moment, clamping down on the premature relief that rises in his chest.

“Are you sure?” He asks, softer, trying to ease your frayed, tender nerves.

He can hear you swallow over the line, trying to wet your dry throat. “I…I think so.” You tell him at last. “I don’t-”

BANG-!

The sound of the bedroom door being kicked in.

He can hear you scream from the other end of the line, voice rising sharply in panic and terror as another, deeper voice echoes in the background, rising even louder with words he can’t hear. The sound is garbled, unintelligible as your phone drops to the floor. Price can barely hear the sound of his own voice when he shouts for you, words cracking in his throat. The road around him blurs, and he looks to the display on the dashboard to gauge the time until his arrival.

Two minutes.

Two minutes for you to die, for his two beautiful daughters to be killed as they scream for you, two minutes for the undeserved happiness of his life to be stolen from him.

Price yells again, voice desperate, calling your name. There’s the sound of struggle in the background, and you curse at your attacker- feral, untamed, terrified. Like a wild, injured mother animal defending her young from a predator.

Yet before Price can call out for you again, there’s a crunch, another, and the line goes dead.

The world drops out from under him.

The tires of Price’s car screech as he takes the turn into the neighborhood far too quickly, leaning with the inertia of the vehicle as he races down the street towards the house where his whole life is falling apart.

The car lurches to a stop in the middle of the street, Price not bothering to park properly as he tumbles out of the driver’s side door and towards the front step of the townhouse.

BANG-!!

A gunshot.

Price sees the image of your smiling face in a beautiful white dress flash behind his eyes.

The house goes silent.

Price used to be a religious man. His father would drag him to church on Sundays, would insist on his boys dressing proper and maintaining the appearance of good, devout, obedient children. He tried very hard to make himself believe through his adulthood, but in the years spent toiling in the dusty, blood-soaked underbelly of the world, Price has long since convinced himself there is no God left for ruined men like him.

Even so, in this moment, he prays.

The front door is locked, latched tight. The burglar must have come through the back door into the garden. Price calls for you, and it’s a stupid move on his part, alerting the enemy to his position, perhaps startling them enough to give them an opportunity to escape. Yet the silence that greets him has his blood thrumming, deafening in his ears and he kicks, once, twice at the center of the door before the latch buckles and the thing swings open on its hinges.

There’s crying from the bedroom.

There’s no gun on him, too frantic to grab a side-arm before he sped off base. So instead Price reaches for a knife hidden in his pocket, holding it ready in front of him as he slowly ascends the stairs. The crying is louder now, and he can tell it’s younger voices. Whimpers, tearful whispers from his two beautiful girls still locked in the bathroom. Yet the bedroom where you are remains silent, and as Price reaches the top of the stairs he tries to remember whatever saint offers the blessing of protection, safety.

He rounds the corner, and instantly his toes bump against a limp, dead body sprawled on the floor of the bedroom. Price doesn’t look down immediately, trying to steady himself, preparing himself for the sight of his beautiful wife dead at his feet.

A dark hoodie. A surgical mask. A pool of red soaking into the carpet.

It isn’t you.

“John.”

Price looks up, and in the darkness of the bedroom he finds you with your back against the dresser, several drawers half open and spilling their contents onto the floor. You sit, holding the revolver, legs askew on the floor, hands trembling fiercely, shoulders shaking-

Alive.

Price collapses to his knees in front of you, and you whimper into him as he hauls you into his arms. You nearly push at him, still caught the shock of being ambushed, attacked, touched by a man that wasn’t him. When you squirm, Price merely holds you fast against his chest, murmuring low, raspy reassurances until you still.

“Shh, it’s me. It’s me, love. You’re safe. It’s over.”

With one hand, he tucks his blade into his jacket, with the other he slowly removes the weapon from your grip, clicks the safety on, and tucks it to the side, well out of the way. No doubt the presence of the weapon will be a nightmare to deal with when the police arrive, but that’s not his concern right now.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, turning you face up to him in his palms, and he can feel the wetness on your cheeks, can see the liquid stare of you in the darkness of the bedroom. You shake your head, lip trembling but trying not to cry, and it aches at him like nothing else. The hurt is only soothed by the taste of your lips, a desperate kiss, wet with the taste of your tears as you instinctively part for him, allowing a shuddering little gasp to break through. You whimper again, something that sounds like ‘John’, grasp at him a little harder until he tucks you back into his chest.

“T-the girls-” You try, voice cracking, and Price hushes you, rocking just a touch as you try to calm down.

“They’re in the bathroom.” He tells you quietly. “They’re safe.”

You hiccup at that, finally allowing a sob to break free as you cling to him, bury your face into his chest so his shirt stains with tears.

“I-I was so afraid.” You confess, and Price merely tucks you closer to him, hauls you into his arms with the promise of safety.

“I know, love. I know.” He tells you. “You’re safe. You’re alright. You did well, my brave girl.”

You cry a little harder at that, and at last Price hears the sound of sirens at the edge of the neighborhood, racing far too late to where the two of you sit in the darkened bedroom.

He hauls you up into his arms when they arrive, helps you down the stairs and presses you into the arms of a kindly police woman before returning into the house. An officer in a yellow jacket urges him to stay put, but Price snarls in his face, startles him so badly the man takes a step back and pales.

It’s easy to climb the stairs now, to come to the locked bathroom door that shelters his children from the horror they did not witness. As soon as he opens the door they spill into his arms, his two beautiful daughters, weeping against him in wordless blubbers of terror and relief. Yet the first question they ask isn’t about where he was, what has happened, why the police are there. Instead his eldest, at the age of six, her gorgeous eyes the same color as her mother's, stares tearfully up at him and asks: “Where’s mummy?”

“Outside.” He tells her with a gentleness he had forgotten he possessed, hauling her younger sister up into his embrace as she sniffles into his shoulder. “Let’s go see her.”

Yet before he steps back into the bedroom, he kneels down and stares at his brave, eldest girl and tells her: “We’re going downstairs. Don’t open your eyes until you’re outside, understand?”

She does, of course she does. He’s never given her a reason to doubt him, so the both of them squeeze their eyes shut, don’t open them even as Price lifts them over the dead man still laying oozing on the floor.

When they get outside they rush towards you, fresh bouts of tears in their eyes, asking about the blood splattered on your nightgown, staining it crimson. He can see you panic, nearly explaining the truth, before you shakily smile, hold them both in your arms and tell them: “It’s strawberry jam, my loves. Mummy is very silly and spilled jam all over herself.”

It takes the better part of an hour to explain to the police what has happened, to have you checked over by a paramedic, one who offers peppermints to your two girls as they balance at the back of the ambulance. Price entrusts you to them, discussing the situation in low, grave tones with the officers over why they were not as quick to respond as he had hoped. The officer from earlier is defensive at first, tries to puff his chest and explain to Price the logistics of the response, and Price levels him with a mere look of stony, violent anger that instead has the man fumbling for an apology.

It’s that alone that has the man dismiss any possible charges for you, takes one glance at the weapons permit and tips his hat at the captain with a small ‘Sir.’

At long last, after the crime scene tape has been rolled out and the house cordoned off, does Price return to you and the girls, who have calmed down considerably and now doze drowsily on either side of you, still dressed in their pajamas. You lean up into the tender kiss he bestows upon your forehead, murmurs another reassurance there before tilting you into his palms.

“We can’t stay here tonight.” He tells you gently, and you sag in relief.

“A hotel?” You ask, and Price only shakes his head at you, watching your brow wrinkle in confusion.

“I’m taking you to base.” He replies softly, firmly. “No place safer in the world than with me.”

You know it’s true, he can see it in your smile as you gaze up at him, adoring, with a trust he still struggles to tell himself he’s earned.

So you’re bundled into his car alongside your two young girls, the three of you in the backseat as he retraces his path back in the direction of the base. It’s only once you also begin to doze off in the back seat that he hazards a glance at his phone.

Five missed calls, three from Gaz alone, one from Soap, and one from Laswell that’s followed with a text saying “Call me. ASAP.”

He has a lot of explaining to do.

Somehow he manages to talk his way past the gate guard, who looks puzzled at the woman and two girls sleeping in his backseat. Yet he waves Price through, and eventually the four of you arrive at the officer’s quarters. Price manages to hold both of his daughters, one in each arm, with you clinging to his side, hiding your face in his sleeve as you pass the soldiers who pause with long, drawn out stares at the sight before them. It’s an unusual circumstance to say at best, and Price knows he’ll have to corner more than one man tomorrow to ensure their silence on the whole affair. All that matters right now is getting you and the girls to safety, to somewhere the three of you can bunk down and sleep this dreaded evening off.

What Price doesn’t expect to find, however, is three younger SAS agents awaiting him in front of his bunk, leaning against the wall and talking quietly amongst themselves. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost startle at the sight of their captain holding two young girls in their nighties, and a woman at his side with blood not entirely scrubbed from her nightgown.

“...Sir?” Gaz manages tightly after Price silently brushes him aside with little regard, unlocking his door. Yet when Gaz tries to assist the captain shoots him a look. The expression that flits across his sergeant’s face has him regretting it almost instantly, but apologies will have to wait as he ushers you inside. It takes a moment for Price to carefully deposit his sleeping daughters into the neatly made military cot, and when he does he catches your eyes just as you nod to the three men still hovering in the doorway.

It’s with a sigh that Price rubs the back of his neck and turns towards his concerned and puzzled team, clicking the door shut behind him so the conversation does not disturb his family.

“Introductions will have to wait until the morning.” He announces quietly, hearing the fatigue in his own voice. “They’ve had quite the night.”

“You never said you were married.” Soaps blurts out before he can stop himself, and at the look Price gives him in regards to his volume he mildly tacks on a little “...Sir.”

Price allows himself a moment to knead the bridge of his nose, huffing a suffering sigh as he decides what to say next.

“There’s a reason I haven’t told you boys.” He explains at last, looking up. “You know our work. You know the enemies we’ve made, myself more than the rest of you. You know they will exploit every opportunity of ours that they can.”

He levels his team with a severe, grim stare. “I will never allow my family to become one of those opportunities. Understood?”

The silent, unspoken words there ring loudly in the silence that follows.

This is a secret. For the four of us. Do not ever speak of it to anyone else.

He can see them trade glances, still confused, apprehensive, but at least agreeable to Price’s explanation.

“Copy.” Gaz offers quietly at last, and both Ghost and Soap nod as well. Price manages to catch his lieutenant’s stare for a moment, and Simon darts his gaze to the door behind his captain, and then to Price meaningfully, nodding.

Of course Simon would understand the gravity of secrecy that comes with this, Price thinks, and for a moment he regrets not telling his second in command sooner.

“Good.” Price announces summarily after a beat, and the clipped tone of him has the team straighten on instinct. “We can talk more in the morning. Dismissed.”

Ghost nods, about to stride away when he catches Soap about to make further comments, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and tugging him away. Price can hear the Scot grumble in irritation, but obediently follows behind his LT. Gaz stays a little longer, shifting uneasily on his feet.

“Sargeant?” Price asks, and the tone isn’t unkind, still regretting the venom he shot the man earlier.

“Sir.” Gaz begins, eyes cast down to his feet. “...Are they alright?”

It’s that question, the soft, uncertain concern of his sergeant that makes Price’s shoulder go lax, has his breath exit him in a soft, steady sigh. His broad, calloused palm settles on Gaz’s shoulder, making the man look up with a worried, grimaced expression.

“They’ll be fine.” Price tells him, voice dipping low as it does for his own daughters. “They’ve had a bit of a shock, lad. They need to sleep it off, know that they’re safe now. You can help me with that come morning. Understand?”

Gaz brightens at that, always wanting to be useful, to prove himself to the man who has taken him under his wing.

“Of course, Sir.” He offers, reassured, and Price nods.

“Good. Get some sleep. The girls will be a handful tomorrow, I have a feeling I’ll be needing assistance.”

Gaz nods, makes finally to leave, when Price calls him once more.

“Gaz?” He asks, making the man pause. “Call Laswell. Tell her I’ve got three VIPs I’m dealing with. She’ll understand.”

Gaz’s gaze brightens, and Price inwardly cringes, recognizing the error he’s committed. No doubt Gaz and Laswell will be having an extended conversation in his absence about the things he’s failed to mention. Yet Gaz chirps an affirmative and vanishes down the hall before Price can stop him.

When Price returns to his room, the door clicking behind him softly, he admires the sight before him. His two daughters splay across the bed, clinging to your form tucked between them as you hush a lullaby to ease their dreams. Thankfully, they both have managed to fall asleep quickly, likely exhausted by earlier events. The sight of his girls soft, sleepy, blessedly safe in his quarters is nearly enough to bring him to his knees.

You look up at him as he leans on the door, beckoning him into bed. It takes a moment to divest himself of all but his shirt and pants, but eventually Price manages to scoot his way into the narrow cot, hauling his youngest atop his chest to make room. She curls there with a whining, sleepy murmur before falling still once more. A hand settles in her hair, idly stroking as Price coaxes her further into dreams.

Against his side, you scoot so your head lays against his bicep, your eldest daughter now tucked safely between you. It’s a bit awkward, the four of you trying to scrunch together on such a narrow cot, and Price doesn’t doubt that by morning he’ll be sleeping in his desk chair. Yet now, in the soft lull of evening, in the absence of gunshots and dead phone lines, he allows himself to be at peace.

“I nearly lost you.” He finds himself rasping quietly, as if he can still barely understand the thought. You make a sound of dissatisfaction at that, nudging him in disapproval.

“None of that.” You scold quietly, and Price holds his tongue about the fears he wants to say, the pleas for forgiveness he wants to ask of you for not being there when you needed him the most.

“I love you.” He says instead, and despite not being an emotional man, he finds the hollow of his heart aching, empty with regret.

You’re silent for a moment, and there’s a part of him that wonders if you’ll return it, if you’ll suddenly realize how selfish he’s been in allowing himself to love you despite his duty.

Instead you turn, grasp at his hand, bring it to your lips in a firm, tender kiss.

“I love you too, Captain Johnathan Price.” You whisper, and Price’s eyes close, chest aching, the world quiet around him, and yet full. When he breathes, it releases as a sighed prayer to the heavens, a plea for mercy for your safety, for his own forgiveness, for the promise of another day, another hour with his family in his arms.

Taglist:

@guyfieriii @zwiiicnziiix @writeforfandoms

#John price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader #oneshots #call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #mw2

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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 6 months

Text

What's in the Woods?

Summary: Task Force 141 crashed down in the woods. Price is missing, while Ghost, Gaz, and Soap found a mansion, where you live.

HERE IS THE MASTERLIST FOR MORE

Content Warning: NSFW, Smut, F!reader, group sex, blowjob/facefucking, anal sex, p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, slight horror elements (?)

• Task Force 141 where they crashed in a remote forest, but somehow survived. Got separated for some time but managed to find one another in the woods, except for Captain Price. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz went around the forest once more to look for him, only to find a run-down mansion where they decided to stay for the night before finding the Captain again.

• The trio entered the mansion and rested before deciding to look around for things that could help them, only to find a girl sleeping in one of the rooms upstairs.

• Gaz was the one to find you when he entered your dark room and realized there was a person in bed. Thought you were a corpse until you screamed and he screamed.

• the other two rushed to where the sound came from and found you threatening to hit Gaz with a lamp. You still hit the poor guy with a lamp. Calmed down after some explanation from them and apologized to Kyle.

• Ghost thought it was weird that a person was living in an abandoned mansion in the middle of the forest and asked what are you doing here and what made you live here.

• You explained that your family built this mansion here because they liked remote places, only to abandon you here. You also explained how you survived despite the circumstances. They thought of you as modern Rapunzel, if not at least a literate female Tarzan.

• You ended up showing them around the mansion and lent them room, but apologized that of course, they were dirty because a single person couldn't possibly clean an entire mansion. Again, you weren't Rapunzel.

• Brought them to nearby waterfalls where you'd take a bath, clean your clothes, and catch fish because the mansion had long run out of water.

• A couple of months into the crash, they still hadn't found Price, only his hat and gear, and there weren't any rescues coming. At the same time, they had somehow gotten used to living in your mansion, even though they still question some things in their minds, but somehow those questions always slip past their minds. Have they always been that forgetful?

• They found you one night taking a bath in the pool of the waterfalls completely naked. How the hell aren't you freezing? However, the longer they stare at you, the more they can't help the growing tents in their pants. When they joined you, you weren't a bit surprised. In fact, you had a smile.

• Soap picked you up and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, his hard cock leaking of precum, brushing against your cunt, and making you moan into the kiss.

• Ghost grabbed your ass from behind and rubbed his cock, groaning at the friction. He trailed kisses on your nape as Soap worked on your breasts and nipples, eliciting whines and moans from you that soon got muffled when Gaz grabbed your neck, bringing your lips to his.

• Gaz held one of your hands and guided it towards his shaft, letting you stroke his length.

• It didn't take long for you to beg to be fucked and they brought you back to the mansion.

• Soap dropped you on your bed and inserted a couple of digits in you, making you squeal at the sudden intrusion, and he teased you about how wet you were. He started to pump in and out, while Gaz gave your clit maddening circles that got you clenching around Soap's fingers.

• You whined when both men stopped, but Ghost was quick to fill up the loss as he thrust himself inside of your pussy. He let you adjust to his size for a few seconds, before pounding onto you.

• He picked you up from the bed, one hand on your ass and the other around your waist. He sat down on the bed with you on his lap and lay down, stopping for a moment.

• You looked at him in confusion but realized that Gaz had lined up his cock on your ass, hands gripping your waist. You groaned as he slowly eased himself inside your hole.

• Soap grabbed a handful of your hair, kissing you before pushing his cock into your mouth. Your eyes watered and you closed them, bobbing your head with Soap's hand guiding your head.

• After a few rounds of getting your three holes pounded, you and the trio decided to go back to the waterfalls to get yourselves clean and rest in one of the rooms they borrowed.

• Still not too tired to sleep, you talked and talked with them until the moment Gaz asked if you would like to come with them once rescue comes to this place.

• You merely smiled, eyes blank like a void, and answered, "Leave? Why would you leave this place?"

• They stared at you as you said that and a hum left your lips, slowly bringing them to sleep.

Note: It was fun writing this. I wanted to make this more creepy but got lazy halfway through. Totally did not make this next to my grandmother.

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thedirtybeanlife · 7 months

Note

I’m obsessed with your page. The ghosts native speak reader is my fav!! if you are taking requests, could I please request Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader.

Simon and the rest of 141 are at the air port, finically off missions and are on a short leave. The guys are all waiting for their cars and family and as they wait , someone yells “Simon” and they reunite in front of the group??

can reader please be small than ghost? Like he’s 6’4 and she’s 5’4? THANK YOU LOVE YOUR PAGE

(thank you so much!!! i absolutely love this idea! i hope i covered everything you wanted 💕)

Family Reunion

(Simon Riley x Wife!Reader x Platonic!TF141)

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: none! just pure fluff <3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It had been three months since you had last seen your husband, Simon. Three excruciatingly long months of only the occasional three worded texts or five minute phone calls when he was able to get in contact safely. You knew his job was important, and that it was his passion, but the gnawing ache of loneliness residing deep in your heart grew with each passing day. Was he okay? Would he be home early? Late? Would he even come home at all? Anxiety made your stomach flip with unease everyday for months until you got the text you had been tossing and turning over.

‘Coming home, Love. Pick me up at the airport at 1800 tomorrow? Missed you dearly, gorgeous xx’

Your heart flutters in your chest as you read the text, mind racing as you think of the many ways you could welcome him home. Maybe a nice home cooked meal, or maybe a massage. He did always come home with tense, sore muscles. You smile softly at your phone as the light emitting from it shines across your tired face, the dark room making the light burn your eyes slightly, but you don't care. Texting him back was more important.

‘i'll be there at 4:00 <3 and i missed you more, handsome.’

You hit send and stare at the phone, immediately seeing the small chat bubble popping up above the keyboard. You patiently await his response, biting your lip with a smile, feeling lovesick at just the thought of him returning. You could already see him standing tall above the rest of the passerby in the airport, dark clothes adorning his body, rugged hair, and tired, but giddy, brown eyes.

‘I highly doubt that, Darling. Get some sleep. It’s late. xx’

You laugh and roll your eyes as you read the message. You look at the time on the top corner of your phone and see it is indeed quite late. A little past midnight, to be exact. You type out a reply and hit send.

‘roger that lieutenant 🫡’

‘At ease, Soldier. I love you Baby xx’

‘i love you too Si <3’

You lock your phone and stand up, shut off the lights in the house and lock the front and back doors. Walking upstairs to Simon and your’s shared bedroom, you yawn tiredly, glad that Simon had reminded you of sleep being a necessity. Your fingers switch the light off in the room and you plop onto the large king sized bed. Upon plugging your phone in, it buzzes and you see another message from him.

‘Sleep well, Love.’

You use the love reaction to respond to his message before closing your phone once more for the night, laying down comfortably on Simon’s side of the bed and snuggling up under the thick comforter. Within minutes your sleeping like a baby, snoring softly with limbs sprawled across the bed. You sleep peacefully knowing that Simon is safe and will be in your arms incredibly soon.

The loud sound of your alarm buzzing wakes you in the morning at eight, the sun casting a bright light over the bed room causing you to groan and roll over to hide your face as you blindly reach out to turn off the alarm, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep. Until you realize why you were waking up so early in the first place.

“Simon..” you mutter with a tired smile as the image of your husband floods your mind. You dart up and take a long, hot shower, shaving and thoroughly washing every part of your body. Practically waltzing into the bedroom, you stand in front of your closet and look through your options before your eyes land on Simon’s favorite dress. It was something he had bought you a few years ago when he took you shopping. The dress was white with small baby blue flowers sprinkled all over it. it was rather short, falling at the middle of your thighs, the neckline plunging ever so slightly to show off the smallest amount of cleavage. He had spotted it in the window of a store you had passed one day while shopping and he immediately dragged you in so you could try it on.

After putting the dress on, you do your hair and put on a light layer of makeup, nothing too fancy. You add some jewelry and put on a pair of sandals to complete the look. With a smile as you look at yourself in the mirror, you walk downstairs and look around the house, giving it a once over to make sure it feels warm and welcoming for his return. Nodding in approval, you put a few wax melts that Simon likes in the various wax melters in the house and turn them on. Once that's done you look at the time and see you still have a few hours until you need to leave, so you decide to bake him some of his favorite dessert as a welcome home present; lemon rolls. You had made them one day after discovering the recipe, and he had become infatuated with them. He had eaten three of them in one sitting.

Quickly getting to work, you manage to put them together in record time, throwing them into the oven and waiting the thirty minutes for them to cook. You pull them out and let them rest on the counter. With only about twenty minutes left until you have to leave, you turn off all the lights and grab your keys, wallet, and the cute bag that matches your dress, rushing out the door from excitement. Upon entering the car, as if Simon somehow knew, you get a text from him.

‘Boarding the plane now, Lovely. See you soon xx’

‘see you soon Si <3’

You reply and then start the car, pulling out of the drive way and starting the drive to the airport he'll be landing at with the rest of his team. It had been quite some time since you've seen the rest of the team. Music plays on the radio as you drive down the highway as you enjoy the sights of the Autumn leaves and colors. Thankfully it wasn't rainy today as the drive to the airport was quite long and to get to the highway required driving on a lot of slick backroads. Simon had chosen a house deep in the woods, yet not too far from civilization. He said it was for protection, but you knew he just liked the wilderness more than people. You didn't mind, it tended to be quite peaceful.

At roughly three o'clock, you pull into the airport’s parking garage, driving around to find a parking spot. Once you find one, you shut off the car and walk towards the entrance of the large building, making your way to the gate where he would be arriving from alongside Johnny, Gaz, and John. The loud chatter and rolling of suitcases fills your ears as you walk through the large building. You finally get to the gate and check the time, seeing that his plane will be landing in ten minutes. That familiar giddy feeling fills your heart and stomach as you sit in one of the chairs, bouncing your leg slightly as you struggle to contain your excitement. The minutes tick by slowly, almost feeling slower than the past three months.

Suddenly the sound of people walking out of the gate flood your ears, and shortly after you hear the loud laugh of Johnny, followed by a deep chuckle of Simon. You hop up out of the chair and weave through the crowd of people, muttering ‘excuse me’ every few seconds before you barrel towards the tall man.

“Simon!” you squeal excitedly, jumping into his arms the second he notices you, his strong arms wrapping around your much smaller body tightly as he lets out a small grunt from the sudden weight, stepping back some to keep his balance. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face into it. His calloused thumbs rub circles into your bare thighs. Johnny and Gaz laugh as John stands behind them and smiles warmly at the sight.

“Oh, Love, how I’ve missed you…” he mutters as he places a soft kiss to the crown of your head, holding you close as you nuzzle into him.

“Missed you too, Si,” you mutter against his warm skin, smiling happily.

“Where’s my hug, lass?” Johnny asks playfully.

“Up your ass, Johnny.” you laugh and hop off Ghost, placing a kiss to his lips before walking over to Johnny and pulling him into a hug.

“It’s been to long, Y/N,” he says as you hug him tightly.

“It truly has. You’ll have to come by and have dinner with us before you leave,” you offer with a warm smile as you pull away, moving to hug Gaz and fix his cap on his head, “That goes for all three of you,”

Simon huffs out a small laugh at your offer as you wrap John in a hug as well before pulling away and practically prancing back to Simon, hanging onto his side. He instinctively wraps his arm around you protectively and lovingly.

“If that's what you want, Sweetheart. I guess I can deal with these lot for a few more hours,” he smiles softly down at you, knowing you thought of his teammates just as much as family as he did.

You smile up at him appreciatively as you keep your arms wrapped around his torso, savoring his warmth and the faint smell of gun powder and cigarette smoke; the small hint of cologne he always wore.

“That sounds lovely, Dear,” Price says respectfully, nodding with his usual smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

“I’d love some dinner, especially if it's made by you,” Kyle says playfully as he looks between you and Simon.

“It’s settled then. Why don't you guys grab your things and we can all carpool back, and no, Johnny, you do not get to play the music,” you laugh out jokingly.

Soap gives you a fake offended look and flicks you playfully on the shoulder as he walks by, carrying his duffle bag in his hand. Simon chuckles and flicks Johnny in retaliation for you, making him grumble under his breath as he walks off towards the doors, the rest of us following behind him laughing at his behavior. The walk to the parking garage is full of lighthearted jokes and conversations, you and Simon mainly listening as we walk a few paces behind the other three, hands swinging between your bodies. Occasionally, you’ll both glance at each other with a loving gaze, just happy to be able to hold each other again.

About an hour later, you pull into the drive way of the cute, quaint wooden house that you and Simon reside in. The fall colors and rainy weather make it look even prettier than it usually is. The five of you pile out of the car and walk down the short pebble driveway until you reach the front door. Simon unlocks it and holds the door open for you, walking in behind you, the other three following right after. The smell of amber and linen spreads across the house from the wax you had put on the warmers earlier. Everyone takes their wet shoes off and places them semi-neatly next to the door. Price hangs his hat on the hook by the door, Gaz sticking his in his back pocket, the brim poking out.

“Make yourselves at home. I bought some bourbon the other day you guys are more than welcome to break open. I’ll get to work on dinner. Relax. You guys deserve it,” you say sweetly, placing a kiss to Simon’s lips before walking into the kitchen.

You look at the lemon rolls on the counter, covering them completely with the towel so it doesn't give away the surprise, and gather everything i need for dinner. You decide on making a roast, green beans, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, and brown gravy. You hum quietly to yourself as you start to prep everything. The roast had already been seasoned from the night before, marinating in the spices, dough for the rolls already sitting in the fridge as well.

As you're washing the potatoes, large, strong arms wrap around your waist and soft kisses are planted along your jaw, “Need any help, Love?” Simon asks quietly, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking along the fabric of your dress as he rests his chin on your head, “Ya look lovely, by the way. Wear this just for me?” he teases with a grin that you can feel as his lips are pressed against your skin.

You sigh softly and contently in his grip, eyes closing for a few moments as your hands rest on the cutting board, vegetable peeler and potato long forgotten as his body heat and touch floods you senses.

“I got it, Honey. You just go in there and relax. Keep our guests entertained, and of course I wore it just for you. Figured you'd appreciate it,” you giggle softly as you lean your head back against his broad shoulder to look up at him.

“Well, you were definitely right about that,” he says with a small laugh before leaning down and placing a kiss to your lips and then the tip of your nose, “I love you, Y/N. So much,” he mutters as he stares into your eyes adoringly.

“I love you too, Simon,” you say softly and place a kiss to his jaw, “Now shoo! I have five people to feed,” you playfully wave him away making him laugh and place one last kiss to your lips before he leaves the kitchen to go sit with the rest of the guys in the living room.

A few hours later, dinner is eaten, lemon rolls half gone, and the kitchen is a mess, something you two would deal with in the morning. You give all of the guys leftovers in containers that will last them a few days, knowing they probably wouldn't get another home cooked meal for a while. You and Simon walk them to the door where an Uber is waiting to take them to the nearby hotel they'll be staying at until seperate flights to their respective homes fly out tomorrow.

“It was lovely seeing you again, Captain,” you say as you hug John and hand him his hat.

“You too, Love. Simon surely hit the jackpot with you, Kiddo,” the older man laughs and gratefully accepts his hat as you hand it to him.

“Call me sometime, yeah? You still need to tell me about your feelings on that movie I made you watch,” you laugh out towards Gaz as you hug him next.

“For sure, Y/N. It’ll be one of the first things I do when I get back home,” he smiles and nods as he ruffles your hair some, much like an annoying brother would do.

“Bring it in, Lassie!” Soap grins and laughs as he pulls me into a tight hug, picking me off the ground some making me laugh and hug him back, “Oh, I’m gonna miss ye, Sweetheart. No fair that the Lt. gets to keep ya to himself,” Johnny jokes as he puts me down and let's go. You can hear Simon groan in annoyance quietly behind you.

“I’ll miss you too Johnny. Don't be a stranger, yeah? My phones always on,” you say softly as you move to stand next to Simon again, leaning against him as they all say bye to him before getting into the Uber. You both watch as it drives off before walking into the warm house, a stark contrast to the cold and rainy night air.

“That was nice. Haven't seen them in nearly a year,” you say as you turn off the front porch light and lock the front door.

“Feels like I haven't seen you for a year, Love. C'mere,” Simon says warmly and holds his arms open. You walk over to him and hug him tightly as he lifts you off the ground, a small giggle leaving your lips as he haoists you up and makes you wrap your legs around him, just like he did earlier at the airport, “Missed you too much to bear,” he mumbles into your hair before placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Missed you too. So much, Si. Just glad you're here, home and safe,” you whisper lovingly as you nuzzle into him.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” he asks softly, stroking your hair with one of his hands as he starts walking through the living room to the staircase. You hum in agreement and tighten your grip slightly around his neck as he walks up the stairs, still holding you in his arms.

He pushes open the door and turns on the bedroom light, walking over to the bed, and gently placing you down, “Let’s get you out of this and get you into something a bit more comfortable, Dove.” he says and slowly trails his large calloused fingers up your exposed legs, grabbing the hem of the dress and pulling it over your hips as you lift them slightly to help him. He pulls it up and over your head, leaning down to place a kiss to your shoulder before throwing the dress in the hamper and grabbing one of his hoodies out of the dresser. He walks back over and slides the large navy blue fabric over your head, helping you pull your arms through before bending down to take off your sandals. Wordlessly, he walks into the bathroom, emerging a few seconds later with a few cotton rounds and your micellar water. Simon’s rough fingers wet the cotton round and softly rub it onto your skin, wiping off the light layer of makeup on your face.

Instinctively, your eyes flutter closed as he brings the cotton round up to wipe off your mascara, his touch so soft you barely feel it, “ There’s my pretty girl,” he whispers as he removes all of your makeup and gently caresses your face with his thumb, “Gorgeous,” he praises, making you smile softly up at him.

“Lay down and get comfortable, Love. I’ll just be a moment. Want to get out of these clothes,” you nod at his gentle command and get under the comforter on your side of the bed, laying down and getting comfortable. You watch him change out of his jeans and long sleeve shirt, his toned torso and arms littered in white and light pink scars, an occasional bruise on his pale skin.

“Anything need to be looked at or cleaned?” you ask softly as you inspect his body from the bed.

“I’m alright, Babygirl. Nothing but bruises this time ‘round,” he reassures you as he pulls on a pair of black sweatpants and turns off the light, walking over to the bed and laying next to you. His large arms pull your body flush agaisnt his, placing a kiss to your ear.

“Been thinkin’ about doin’ this since the day I left,” he mumbles tiredly in your ear, taking a deep breath as he relaxes fully for the first time in months.

“Me too,” you say softly and nuzzle your head into his chest, placing a kiss to one of his older, larger scars, “Get some sleep, Si. You need it,” you whisper as you wrap your arms around him.

He hums in response and in just a few minutes he's snoring softly in your ear, something you had always found a bit bothersome, but in this moment, it was all you had wanted. Shortly after, your eyes flutter closed, and your lulled to sleep by his slow breathing and the comfort of his heart beating in your ear.

#xreader #fanfiction #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #fanfic #mw2022 #oneshot #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #john price #kyle garrick #john soap mactavish

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ghostandsoap · 10 months

Text

Double-Sided

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: Angst. Momma Peach and Poppa Price fight in front of the “kids.”

Word Count: 4.8k

“I would’ve if you had let me.”

She had been at it for hours.

She had a side stitch from standing for so long and the splitting pain in her head was only getting worse with each passing moment. The stress and tension of the room didn’t help, but there was no way she was giving in.

She could do this all day, but it was beginning to take a toll on her.

Her brain felt like it was swimming in circles. The same movements repeated in her hand gestures and leg motions, and the same threats and words of venom spit from her mouth as she tried to break the man sitting in the middle of the room.

Apparently, he had the same kind of patience that she did. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go anywhere.

He had stopped trying to fight the restraints of his chair long ago. He wasn’t getting up from where he sat without some outside help, which he most surely wouldn’t be getting. Ghost and Soap had been the ones to wrestle and tie him down, so the odds of him getting loose were slim to none.

It was well into the night. Darkness and stars had painted the sky hours ago. Too bad she and the rest of the Force were stuck inside trying to get answers out of this scumbag, who didn’t show any signs of giving up the information she wanted from him.

Notorious criminal was a basic definition of his character. He and his posse of “colleagues” had been tied to four different chemical warfare incidents in the last several months. “Colleagues” was a term that he so leisurely used, but she hardly considered them to be friendly co-workers.

He and his crew had designed and created a chemical weapon that had been used in these chemical attacks over the course of the last several months. They had only just now caught up to him, because he was just as good as staying under the radar as he was making his mark.

Word was that they had sent a “special shipment” of this lab-made weapon to an official location, but the destination was unknown – hence why Peach had been grilling him for half the night at this point. They needed to find the shipment and intercept it before it reached where it was intended to go. A mass exposure to this chemical weapon could mean a lot of damage and fatalities.

Time wasn’t on her side, and he was stalling and wasting as much of it as he could.

She was the best interrogator of the team. Each member had their own strengths when it came to squeezing answers out of a person of interest.

Soap had a certain way with words that could cause the subject to unintentionally give up information. Gaz was cool and convincing, and Price had a temper on him that could shake up pretty much anyone. Ghost was just plain scary – he could merely walk in the room and some people would fold immediately.

But Peach had a little bit of it all. She was convincing and smooth, but could also turn angry and loud. She had it down to a science, but this was her hardest attempt yet.

Usually she slapped them around a little bit. It sped up the process and you wouldn’t believe the people that caved just because they didn’t want to be beat up by such a sweet-looking woman. Other times though, it slowed everything down. It was a risk that usually had to be weighed once she was in the middle of things and had scoped it out.

But Price had given her once simple command before she began her interrogation.

“Whatever you do, don’t lay a finger on him.”

She had whined and protested, begging her Captain to give her the freedom to get her hands bloody if she needed it. It wasn’t like she ever really hurt anybody that bad. She could control herself much more than if Price went in there and put his hands on the guy.

Still, John feared that if she used her knuckles instead of her head, then they’d never get anything out of him.

Right now she was trying the convincing approach, although she wasn’t getting anywhere. In the last several hours, she had probably asked him what felt like about 100 questions, and he hadn’t answered a single one. He dodged every question and demand and brushed off every insult, threat, and comment.

She circled him for what had to have been the millionth time. She was sick of looking at his face, and she could only imagine he was tired of seeing her too.

“That shipment must be goin’ somewhere real important if you’re this tight lipped about it,” She persuaded, her hands shoving into the pockets of her cargo pants. “Must be headed for someone mighty special.”

There had been a few times where she was positive that he was about to give something up, but then he’d catch himself and change the subject completely.

“That accent…” He rumbled, and she didn’t even bother resisting to roll her eyes. “You’re a long way from home, huh?”

She could only describe his voice as snakelike. It had a certain pitch to it, and all of his “S” sounds were drawn out like a hiss.

A few times, she entertained his counter questions. If it brought her closer to getting something out of him, then she didn’t mind giving up some personal information of her own. It was a fair trade off, if you will.

“Haven’t been home in a long time,” She answered. “I can’t seem to ditch the accent.”

“I’d say it suits you.” He shrugged.

This had been the cycle the entire time. She would ask a question and he would change the subject. She was beyond frustrated because nothing was working.

The room that they were in was stuffy. The air was warm, thick, and it felt like she was breathing soup with every inhale she took. Beads of sweat lined her forehead and dripped down the middle of her back, despite the fact that she had stripped down to a tank and her most comfortable set of pants.

The room was straight out of a movie. Concrete floors, cinder block walls, and there was hardly any real light coming from the singular LED overhead. Based on how it flickered and flashed, it was clear that it had been quite some time since the bulb had been changed.

There was a singular window that offered observation inside, and it connected the adjacent room. The glass was tinted from the inside, so the eyes that were inside, couldn’t see outside.

Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap had been watching this whole time from the opposite side, and they were growing more discouraged by the minute.

“She’s not getting anywhere, Captain. He’s barely said anything useful.” Ghost remarked, who was saying what everyone else was thinking.

Price sighed. They could only do this for so long before they would just be wasting precious time on a dead end. Price didn’t want to pull her out because that was giving up in her mind. But he couldn’t stand to watch her keep doing this.

While she was hiding it well, he knew she was as distressed as could be on the inside. He had seen her in her more visible moments of stress and anxiety, and he knew she was close to the beginning of a breakdown.

“Let’s give her another half hour,” Price advised. “Maybe she can turn this around.”

They were all tired. It had been a long day and now they were already well into an even longer night. They needed as much rest as they could possibly get before coming up with a new plan and starting over. They didn’t have enough time to try and do this again.

It turned out that Price’s extra thirty minutes had dwindled down to about two minutes.

“This is gonna go a whole lot easier if you just tell me now,” Her voice lowered, her tone smooth and dark. “Where’s the shipment bein’ sent to?”

Of course, he wasn’t going to answer that. She was mean and she was tough, but he had spent years perfecting keeping his cool under this kind of pressure.

“That Captain of yours has it bad for you, doesn’t he?”

A thunderclap of dread cracked in Price’s chest and vibrated to the rest of his body. If there was one way to set her off, it was to bring him into it. She didn’t totally lose it right away, but he could tell just by looking at her that she was close by that comment alone.

John knew better than to look at Soap, Ghost or Gaz, but he knew they were watching him like a hawk. They were waiting for a reaction, but they surely weren’t going to get one.

“Not a word.” Price instructed, still staring ahead through the dirty glass.

They all jumped, quickly looking in different directions as if they hadn’t been waiting for some kind of tell that this guy was getting under his skin.

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that Peach and Price had been seeing each other. They weren’t really trying to hide it, but they also weren’t going out of their way to share it publicly. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were curious, but too afraid to ask. They were entitled to privacy, but it didn’t stop them from being nosy.

“What makes you say that?” She dared to ask through almost bared teeth.

“It’s in his eyes. He doesn’t look at his men the way he looks at you,” He said. “How long has that been going on?”

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business.” She growled, and her pupils were expanded the way they were every time she was heated.

This wasn’t going anywhere good. The second she laid hands on him, this entire thing was going to be blown.

“She’s gettin’ angry, Captain.” Soap advised, which was more of a warning than anything.

“Not yet.” Price held up a hand, giving her up until the last possible second to get something.

She remembered John’s words. It was imperative to find out where the chemical weapon was going. There was no telling what they were planning to do with it and what kind of mass effect it would have. She couldn’t be the one to jeopardize that. She knew that entertaining his nagging questions would only make things worse.

“Where’s the shipment going?” She asked one final time.

He leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, his words rolling off in his most sinister tone.

“Fuck you.”

Shit.

Price saw the fire explode in her eyes, and he knew to react before she had a chance to.

“Ghost. Get her.” Price ordered immediately.

Ghost was swift on his feet, entering the room and snatching Peach up before she even had a chance to do or say anything else. He hoisted her off the ground, ignoring her wriggling and shrills of protest. A blast of cold air hit her when he carried her back into the next room, which was barely helpful to her boiling blood.

Ghost wrestled to set her back on her feet, but kept a strong arm around her to fight her attempts to get back in the other room. She shrieked and pleaded for Ghost to let her go, and the good Captain only stepped in when Soap and Gaz had to assist Ghost in holding her down.

“That’s enough,” Price barked. “We’re done here.”

She ripped herself from Ghost’s hold at the sound of John’s voice, giving him a look so cold that it sent a shudder down his spine. Her anger was now laser focused on Captain Price, who wasn’t looking forward to the argument that was undoubtedly about to unfold.

“Let me at him, John, he’s gotta give in sometime.” She hissed, strands of her hair sticking to her damp forehead and the back of her neck.

He didn’t want to fight. He hated fighting with her. He especially didn’t want to get into a squabble with her in front of the rest of the team. But right now, he needed to be her captain first. This was her captain speaking, not her lover.

This was one of those moments where it was unexplainably hard to be both.

He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that she was doing everything that she could. He could praise her for her determination and hard work. At the same time, he couldn’t just sit and watch her work herself to death, especially for no reward. There was much more at stake, and her pride getting a little damaged was better than wasting all of her time trying to crack this nut.

He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door in case she tried to force her way back inside.

“You’re done for the night,” John commanded. “You’re not getting anywhere with him.”

Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were standing aside, watching and listening without saying a word. It wasn’t often that Peach and Price got into it like this. But when they did, they knew not to interject or intervene.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She stood in front of him, her eyes squinted and jaw clenched as her accent drew thicker.

Fire was burning in her eyes. The outline of the vein in her forehead was showing under her skin as her cheeks grew hotter with each passing second.

He knew that she would take that the wrong way. He wasn’t insulting her attempt or her work, but she surely took it that way. She was tired from being up so long, irritated by the suspect’s behavior, and disappointed that all of this was for nothing.

But at the moment, that wasn’t Price’s understanding of the situation. All he knew was that she was angry and questioning his judgment in front of his team, and he had to match her tone.

“It means that this is a waste of time,” His voice grew louder, cheeks burning red. “We can’t afford any more dead ends.”

“And what do you suppose that I do in the meantime?” She challenged him, something she rarely ever did.

“You need to take a break. Get some rest. We’ll reconvene in the morning,” John barked. “That’s an order.”

She didn’t like that at all. She was determined to keep at this until she physically couldn’t anymore. This was just too important to give up on now. She shook her head in disbelief, a mixture of fury and disappointment causing her to be so vicious.

She could stand here and argue with him for the rest of the night, but if there was anything that she knew would be a waste of time, it was arguing with John Price.

“Yes, Captain.” She hissed, those two simple words dripping with venom as she pushed past him.

He sighed as she stalked out of the room, no doubt going to find the furthest place to get some sleep. Price knew better than that though. She would be up the rest of the night stewing over this, prematurely blaming herself for something that hadn’t happened yet.

He was already feeling guilty for his reaction. He knew better than to blow up at anyone like that…especially her. He was tired, she was tired, everybody was tired. His emotions in a state of exhaustion and irritability had gotten the best of him.

He knew what he needed to do – cool off and go fix this.

Ghost was the first one to speak up when he realized they really were finished for the night.

“What about him?” Ghost asked, tilting his head to reference the terrorist that was still tied down.

“Leave him. He’s not going anywhere.”

That was Price’s way of telling him that he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a criminal right now. That was also Price’s way of telling the three of them that they could do whatever they pleased with him at this point. Price didn’t ask any questions about what they intended to do with him. He didn’t need to know, and he trusted that they would leave him intact enough so he would see his day in the clink.

Price had other matters to tend to. A clammed up suspect wasn’t worth his time. Everybody needed to regroup and come up with a new strategy when the new day came around.

Rest, reconcile, and regroup. That was his to-do list. He emphasized the second one, but cooling off needed to come first.

He left Ghost, Soap, and Gaz to their own devices, trudging off to find a quiet place to collect himself.

***

If there was one place that Price always knew where to look for her, it was the infirmary.

She was the only one of the team that was trained and qualified enough to effectively utilize the space. Most people avoided it, considering the times that they were there were usually because they were injured or coming down with something. Needless to say that, other than her, it wasn’t likely to catch anybody hanging around there for fun.

She excelled there. It was her main place of work and where her skills were most useful and appreciated. She was talented in many other ways, but her medical knowledge was just so precious and priceless. The force could scrape by without having someone who was perfectly trained in combat or computer hacking. But without a medic? Success was highly unlikely.

The infirmary was where she felt the most useful. She felt almost…safe there.

He knew that’s where she would be. She was probably standing at one of the cabinets, taking all of its contents out and organizing them back inside again.

It was a meaningless task, just something to occupy her hands while her brain circled around itself. She would do this over and over until every corner of every box was flawlessly lined up and every label on every bottle was centered with the front of the cabinet. It was just to distract herself, and an attempt to keep her real feelings at bay.

Not to mention, she was unbelievably angry with her captain.

John knew that she wasn’t going to be thrilled to see him. He prepared himself for another fight as he navigated his way to the infirmary. She would never yell or scream at him, but her voice always turned ice cold and stern when she was upset. He found that to be worse. He’d rather her scream in his face – that way he’d have no question about how she was feeling.

She also wasn’t one to talk about things right away. She liked time to simmer on it and at least cool off a little before talking it out. He had waited around 45 minutes before seeking her out. 45 minutes was all he could stand. The anxiety and anticipation of knowing she was alone and seething to herself was unbearable for him.

While he was desperate to get this resolved, he also had to stand firm in his decision to pull her out of the interrogation. It might’ve upset her as his girlfriend, but it was the right move as her captain. He could acknowledge her disapproval while also defending his decision.

He turned a corner and immediately noticed a glow of light coming from the open doorway of the infirmary. He could feel the energy from here. She certainly wasn’t in the best mood.

Nonetheless, he would rather have a conversation than move on without discussing it.

Sure enough, there she was – facing the cabinet on the back wall, lining up boxes of gauze pads and organizing bottles of disinfectant. He could practically see the steam hissing out of her ears, like her head would blow off of her shoulders at any moment.

He leaned against the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and his feet crossed over one another. She was oblivious to him standing there, another sign that her focus was elsewhere. He took a calming breath to recenter himself before he made himself known.

“Hey, Peach.” He kept a neutral tone.

Her shoulders squared and straightened at the sound of his voice. She wasn’t expecting to see him again tonight, not after that little fallout they just had.

Her hands had paused on the box of gauze in her hands, her eyes trained on the print on the cardboard cover.

“Captain.” She said.

He ignored the sting in his chest and the annoyance that came from her not using his name. This was one of those times where he was here both as a boss and as a boyfriend. Those moments were pretty rare, and he very much preferred being one or the other.

“I thought I told you to take a break.” He said coolly, more as small talk than anything.

“Not tired,” She half-lied. She was tired, but wouldn’t have been able to sleep though. “Where are the boys?”

He couldn’t help but grin to himself. She always referred to Ghost, Soap, and Gaz as “the boys” like they were her kids. It was ironic because she was younger than both Soap and Ghost, but somehow all of them saw her as motherly at certain times.

“Soap and Gaz hit the sack,” He said. “I think Ghost is dealing with our perpetrator.”

Price reached into the inside of his jacket, locating the pack of cigarettes that he stashed there. After today, he needed something to take the edge off. He slid a cigarette from the pack, settling it between his lips while he fished around in his pants pocket for his lighter.

“Guess he was better for the job then?” She grumbled, her back still towards him. “And don’t you dare light that cigarette.”

Price’s thumb had just set on the spark wheel with not even enough time to push it down to ignite the butane inside. She was always on him about his smoking habit. He knew all the health risks and concerns that came from smoking (she had explained them to him many times), but never were they enough to motivate him to kick his habit completely.

Nonetheless, he placed the cigarette back into the pack and stored them with his lighter for safekeeping.

“It had nothing to do with that. You were just as suited and prepared for it.” He answered.

I guess we’re getting right into it then. He thought to himself.

“Then why’d you pull me out?” She set the box in the cabinet and closed the door.

Her tone wasn’t as firm now, but it still had a certain chill to it.

“It was all part of his plan. He was going to wear you out until we were out of time.” He remarked.

She shook her head, an incredulous smile spreading across her features. She finally turned to him, her eyes meeting his from across the room. He had calmed down much more than she had, but she didn’t look like she was close to combusting anymore.

“You have absolutely zero faith in me.” She said.

His stance changed, his legs straightening out as he fully entered the room.

“Come on, Peaches. You know it isn’t that,” He pleaded. “We’re running out of time. I couldn’t risk using it all on a dead end suspect.”

He was closer to her now. He could read her better if he was close.

“If it had been Soap, you wouldn’t have pulled him out.” She grumbled.

“That’s not true,” He became more determined, but his voice remained normal. “I was looking out for you and for the best interest of this team.”

Her pupils dilated, a quick surge of vexation flashing over her irises.

“I’m not soft, John. I don’t need you takin’ care of me.” She huffed.

At least we’re back to first names.

“I know that. I’ve never thought of you as anything other than independent and perfectly capable. And I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise,” He defended. “But I’m your captain. It’s my job to keep this team safe and in line. That includes you.”

She almost rolled her eyes. How could he act like she didn’t already know that? She had a response ready, but he went on before she could say it.

“I made a judgment call because I was worried about you, and I saw that what he was doing was sabotaging what we’re trying to do,” He proclaimed. “You have the right to be upset over it, but it was the best call. I would’ve made the same choice no matter what. It just so happened that there was a little more emotion involved.”

It wasn’t always easy being both her captain and her lover. As he had said before, it presented some unique challenges that could only be dealt with as they happened. It was only when the two sides blended that things could get tricky.

It wasn’t always easy for her either. Over time, she had learned to know when to treat him as a respected captain and when to love up on him as her romantic partner. She just had to understand that there were going to be times where his care for her was going to overlap with how he treated her professionally.

And in all honesty, she knew deep down that he hadn’t dragged her out because he didn’t think she could do it. If he thought that she wasn’t capable, he never would’ve let her do it in the first place.

“It’s just…” She sighed, a much more serene look glossing over her eyes. “He got the best of me.”

She didn’t lose her temper often. If anything, it was more likely for John to flip his lid. But the stakes were high, the pressure was on, and time was running out…it made sense that an uncooperative criminal pushed her over the edge.

“I know. It’s alright,” He pushed a set of stray hairs from her eyes. “I didn’t want you getting all worked up over it. I need you to have a clear head so we can get this figured out.”

She felt ashamed for lashing out. She was better than losing her composure and confidence over some low life criminal.

She felt remorse for getting in John’s face and nearly cursing him out in front of his team. Her reaction had been uncalled for, and she felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” She apologized, the last of the flames in her eyes smothering out completely.

“Oh, come on now, darling,” He took her chin gently between his thumb and index finger, tilting her head forward to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m just glad you didn’t try to kill him.”

“I would’ve if you had let me.” She gave a small smile.

He chuckled at that, wrapping one of his arms around her waist.

“I know,” He pressed another kiss to her head. “I find the thought of you killing an international terrorist rather sexy.”

“Is that so?” Her smile grew wider. “Only problem with that is I’ll lose my job if I get caught killin’ him without probable cause. And I like my job.”

“You would never get caught,” He scoffed. “You’re stealthy.”

His arm unwrapped from her waist, his hands coming to gently grip her biceps. He kissed her properly then, his facial hair tickling her skin as she hummed into the kiss. All was well between them. This was hardly any real bump in the road for them. A minor hiccup, at most.

Price could forgive and forget a little outburst on a terrorist. He would be more concerned if she hadn’t cared so much about this mission.

“How about you get some sleep?” He said when she broke the kiss. “We need to get started as soon as the sun comes up.”

Price’s eyes suddenly started scanning the room, as if he were looking for something.

“Sure. I’ll finish packin’ the cabinet and I’ll hit the hay,” She smirked, following his eyes. “My medic bag is in that closet. Suckers are in the front pocket. I just restocked the cherry ones.”

A grin spread on his face when he dashed towards the closet that she pointed to. He had a theory that she kept lollipops around not only for people after being treated, but also to keep him from smoking so much. It didn’t really work, but he still appreciated the gesture.

He stuck around until she was finished, escorting her out of the infirmary and to a decent place to get some rest. He made sure she was comfortable before he turned in for the night as well, but not before finishing his candy treat.

Although, the lollipop was nothing compared to the relief he felt from making things right.

He felt confident that the answers the team was looking for would be found. And her confidence would return when this was all over and dealt with. She would be successful once more.

And he believed that both as her captain and her lover.

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soapybutt17 · 2 months

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Baby Mama

Summary: Downtime was rare and far in between, but with your maternity leave now done and over with, your husband thought it would be a good time as any to invite everyone to your shared home for a mini celebration. It should have also been a good idea to let everyone know about the small little fact that not everyone was made aware of your relationship or the fact that there was a sleeping baby upstairs that hated Soap’s boisterous laughter for some reason. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Farah Karim. Alex Keller. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,313 Chapter Warnings: None.

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“Sit down, Rookie. We’ve got it covered.”

You wanted to glare at your husband and the rest of the taskforce that had made it their mission to ensure you were not in-charge of handling meal preps for the upcoming party you and your husband had decided to start in celebration for both your return back to the base as well as the success of their previous mission.

“Why do I feel like a guest in my own home?” You playfully questioned as Gaz placed a cup of tea in front of you. A reassuring smile rested on his lips.

“You’ve been wide awake until the early morning taking care of the little girl sleeping upstairs. Quite frankly, we’d prefer you to sleep instead than deal with the rest of us here.” Gaz explained as he returned back to helping Soap with prepping for the marinade for the barbeque.

“I’ve dealt with worse.” You pouted, ignoring the pointed look on your husband knowing they were right.

“Just because you’ve dealt with it on missions doesn’t mean you should deal with it in our home, Darling.” John sighed wiping his hand to come sit beside you on backyard patio.

Since your maternity leave and your husband’s own paternity one, you’ve somehow gotten enough money and time to make some new renovations to the home. One that you were proud of the most was the patio that would not only be a place for you and your husband to enjoy for yourselves, but for the guest he was slowly but surely becoming welcome to inviting—especially now.

With Soap and Gaz prepping the marinate and vegetables and Simon dealing with most of the meat (surprised by the fact that he was once a butcher before joining the military), you and your husband were left to your own devices for a while.

“Little Katherine still asleep?” He inquired.

You turned your attention towards the baby monitor, seeing your daughter thankfully still asleep in her crib.

It still amazes you that this little human was a product of your love and devotion to your husband. Even with her arrival an unplanned surprise for the both of you, you’ve both taken it to stride and made the most out of the experience. Your husband hoping for another few along the way but you made him promise to wait until little Katherine was a little older first.

“Asleep for once.” You sighed resting your head against your husband’s shoulders as you two continued watching the boys helping out for the party. “Why are we letting them help us with our own party again?”

“They did this to themselves surprisingly. When they heard we’re having this party, they immediately worried about you and the baby and adding the mess of the party to the mix. You’ve got those boys wrapped around your fingers and it’s worrisome at times.”

You giggled nudging him slightly at this comment.

“Speaking of people wrapped around your fingers, Alejandro and Rudy will also be coming tonight.”

You smiled, happy to know more of the friends you’ve made during missions have also come to visit. Having missed your time on the base, having them here for a get together would be a treat. You would also be ignoring the implication of your husband’s words towards Las Almas’ Colonel and Sergeant Major.

Somehow, it had become a topic of discussion for the rest of the boys how the Colonel had a little crush on you which you thought was ridiculous. Alejandro Vargas was nothing but professional to you and to the rest of the team. As far as you know, the man was just a little appreciative of the help you had given to them during Grave’s takeover of his base all those months ago, nothing more.

“You think Kate, Farah, and Alex would be able to visit too?” You inquired.

“They’re already on their flight here.” He smiled arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Kate’s been bugging me about the house when I told him about the renovations.”

You shook your head already imagining how much teasing Kate probably needed to do for him to finally relent in having the party here instead of renting a place.

A sudden thought had popped into your head as you turned directly towards your husband.

“Hold on, aside from the three boys, who else knows about our relationship?” You inquired.

He blinked only realizing himself that he hasn’t gotten around and told anyone about the two of you. Everyone had become aware of him having a wife and the paternity leave he had to take meant everyone was also aware that he was a new father, but no one not even Kate was made aware that you were the wife and the mother of his six-month old daughter.

“John did you not tell them yet?” You questioned.

“I may or may not have forgotten to tell everyone.” He grinned sheepishly.

Before you could give him an earful, the sound of your daughter’s cries halted you from your actions. You’ve all but noticed the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. Oh you’re going to get back at him for this somehow. You just know it.

“Rookie, it’s good to finally see you. How’s the leave been?”

Captain John Price was a lot of things. He was a patient man. He could be a brash man. He was a man that commands respect and authority. But in this very moment as you wore his favorite sun dress on you, he knew he could not be all of those things.

He was being punished. It was a certain and each and every single men of his Taskforce knows about it as well. It had honestly and genuinely slipped his mind, with both the past mission and his need to finally be back at home, he never had the time to orient everyone and anyone involved at base about his relationship and marriage to you until now that is.

“Good to see you and the wife too.” You smiled turning your eyes towards your husband pointedly before beginning an animated conversation with Kate and her wife.

John and the rest of the boys were in charge of grilling and giving everyone refreshments. You had decided it was your job to be a good host to everyone as people were slowly but surely filling his home.

“Someone’s sleeping in the couch tonight then?” It was Simon that pointed it out and John could only glare at the man as he continued on with flipping the steaks.

All three of the boys had become aware of the pettiness you could dish out towards their Captain. It wasn’t so often that it happens but the paradigm shift of their Captain not truly being in charge as soon as he was in the confinements of his own home.

“Happy wife, happy life.” John found himself speaking as his attention was still set on the grill.

His own anxiety somehow spiked up the moment an all too familiar Spanish endearment had escapade from the Las Almas-native. Alejandro Vargas was fashionably late as ever.

He had ordered Simon to continue on with cooking as he made his way towards where Alejandro was now in a full discussion with you. It didn’t escape John’s eyes the smoldering look the Colonel was giving his wife. What annoyed him even more was how much you were unbothered—or rather, unaware of it on your own end. Giving the man a smile and those warm gaze that was somewhat always reserved for him and the rest of his men.

“Good to see you, Alejandro.” John had interrupted your little conversation.

“Price. It’s good to see you again, Hermano.” The man chuckled enveloping him into a hug for a moment.

Even with the conversation that now began between him and the Colonel, It didn’t miss his gaze how the both of them would glance right at you as you now stood beside John and joining in on the conversation. It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how your hand held onto his arm, showcasing the often concealed engagement ring and wedding ring he had gifted you all those years ago when he proposed and made you his wife.

“I see you’ve gotten married while on break, it seems congratulations are in order.” Alejandro finally acknowledge the elephant in the room taking everyone’s notice as well.

“Actually,” You trailed off turning your head towards him, a playful smile on your lips almost waiting for him to make the acknowledgement instead.

“We—we just had a baby.” John finally admits at the same time the sound of the baby monitor going off.

Everyone was silent aside from Soap and Gaz’s cackles. With a relieved smile you excused yourself to get the baby for everyone to meet leaving John on the hotseat, especially at the hands of both Kate and Farah.

“Hold on, since when have you and Rookie been in a relationship?” Kate questioned, a big smile playing on her face. Oh he could already see the array of torment that was to come during missions with this tidbit about his personal life.

“Since I was a Sergeant and she was a newly appointed Lieutenant.” John sighed scratching his beard and knowing full well you were taking your sweet time with your daughter leaving him to the wolves. “Married for fourteen years.” He added, being all too reminded of the fact that as soon as he had finished up with the mission that saved both Farah and her brother all those years ago, he knew it in his heart that there would never be a perfect time for the two of you to marry but in that very moment in your humble apartment in the heart of London all those years ago.

“Fuck, I lost the bet then.” Alex interrupted the moment of shock still resting on everyone as he handed Farah a few quid which she happily took with a smug smile on her face.

“Well I appreciate the bets being thrown around about my personal life.” He muttered.

“I’ve always knew something was going on with the two of you, Old man.” Farah pointed out. “It was just a matter of determining what status the two of you were to each other at this point.”

So much for acting low key about his relationship.

The hot seat was now away from him as you walked back out with the prettiest little baby he had ever seen in his life (he was bias definitely as this was his child after all). Woken up from her nap, John could see his daughter still cranky as you continued to coo her.

“Just woke up from her nap.” You excuse immediately handing the baby to him. A smile resting on his lips now as how easy it was to calm his daughter in his hands. How quick it was for her own similar blue eyes to lock onto him for comfort and safety. It was all he could ever give and more to both of his girls.

“Looks just like you, Cap.” Alex pointed out earning a snort out of you and a proud chuckle out of John.

It was an ongoing banter between the two of you, how you complain about carrying your daughter for nine months only for her to look just like him. But his daughter has your eyes and he was all too certain would be used against him when she learns how to do the puppy dog eyes when she grows up.

“Cries like him too.” Simon quipped earning a pointed look from John and giggle from you and laughter from everyone else.

At the booming laughter of one Soap MacTavish, the first line of tears had burst out of his daughter and you and John had given the man a glare as he began to coo his daughter from her tears.

To say freely acting like a husband and wife in front of most of your coworkers was awkward but a little refreshing to say the least. With your daughter pawned off to her uncles for the next hour or two, it meant you and your husband could freely socialize with the rest of the team in attendance.

“Still can’t believe you two were able to keep it hidden for so long.” It was Kate that finally broke the ice.

“Less hassle for either of us.” John shrugged off, pulling you closer to him.

It was all the more refreshing to see this side of him that no one usually sees. With you sitting on his lap on the love seat as you continued on with your conversation with Kate. How he would do anything and everything in his power to have you close to him, touching any skin he gets his hands on—at this moment it was his hands on your thighs as he held onto them to support you.

“That the reason why you dragged her along with you the TF?” She inquired, playfully.

“One of the reasons, but not the top reason.” John assured.

It was still much of a surrealistic moment when you were called one day by Kate about the Taskforce your husband was forming. You, of all people knew that he wanted to make sure that your lines of work and personal life were separate. But somehow, your capabilities overrode those principles you both have made to each other.

You did your job, quiet well too, so it wasn’t much of a worry that your relationship and association to the man would be also place under scrutiny now when all was said and done. It wasn’t much of an issue when most, if not all of the people in the base had already been calling the both of you as work spouses to each other.

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