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cmncisspnandmore · 4 months

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Coming Home To You: part 2

Pairing: Captain John Price X Wife! Reader

Warnings: Dirty talk, mentions of past animal abuse (nothing graphic) Allusions to smut.

Word Count: 4694

Catch up here: Part 1

The alarm interrupts your dreamless sleep, the incessant beeping growing louder and louder the longer you ignore it. You pry your eyes open, as John’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you backwards against his chest. His breath tickles the base of your neck, as he presses a kiss to the top of your shoulder.

“Mmm… Morning, Love,” John whispers, his voice thick with sleep. Your hand reaches out connecting with the off switch on the clock silencing the beeping.

“Morning, are you feeling better this morning?” You ask, turning over in his arms, your face pressing into his bare chest.

“I am..” he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Do you need any help with the chores this morning?”

You pause for a moment, mentally going over the list of things you need to do this morning. “I wouldn't mind some help, if you’re feeling up to it that is.”

“And miss the opportunity to watch you walk around in those tight jeans? I wouldn't miss that for the world,” he muses, letting you go as he sits up in bed. You push up on your elbow watching as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, the muscles in his back flexing as he stretches. The silvery scars that are scattered along his back from years of combat stretching and pulling as he moves his body from side to side. Trying to work out the kinks in his stiff muscles after sleeping.

“Cheeky old man,” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Old man?” John retorts, turning towards you, blue eyes narrowed in mock offense. “I may be older but I am still young enough to keep up with a minx like you,” his voice is low and husky as he crawls over you. His muscled arms on either side of you now, caging you in against the bed. His knees pushing your thighs apart as he shifts his weight to one arm, using his now free hand to gently wrap around the base of your throat.

Blood pounds in your ears, as John stares down at you, his tongue flicking out to wet his pink lips. A small smile plays on your lips as you wrap one of your much smaller hands around his wrist, ensuring it stays firmly in place. John's eyes darken slightly, as he gently squeezes with just enough pressure to make you gasp. The veins in his arm are pronounced as he leans down pressing his lips to yours. Stealing the air from your lungs, with one soft slow kiss.

The kiss lasts only a few moments, before the weight of him is gone. A shiver now wracking through your body at the lack of body heat. You sit up, cheeks flushed, your hair wild and falling into your face at your sudden movement. “Hey!” You call out, as John's fleeting form disappears from the bedroom into the adjoined bathroom.

His deep chuckle is all you hear as the door softly clicks shut.

“Tease!” you call as you stand from the side of the bed. Heading over to your dresser, you yank the dark wooden drawer open harder than you should. The skittering of your heart from the heated moment fizzling out as you search for something to wear. The sun starts to filter in through the bay window, the sky painted pink and orange in the morning glow. You were now late to start chores. And on top of being late you were now incredibly frustrated with the man who has spent the last 3 weeks away on some remote mission.

As you shove your feet into the tightest pair of jeans you own, the bathroom door opens. Even with your back turned you can feel John's eyes on you, so you make a point to wiggle your ass as you pull on the skin tight fabric. Once the jeans are securely buttoned you pull on your shirt, a low cut all black shirt that shows off your cleavage and turn towards your husband.

He leans lazily against the wall, dressed in his usual heather gray t-shirt and dark wash jeans. His hair is pushed back, still in need of a cut after coming back from his deployment, his blue eyes trailing the length of your body. A small smirk on his lips as he takes in the shirt you’re wearing.

“Something the matter Love? You look a little flushed,” He muses.

“No,” you turn your nose up at him, brushing by him on your way out the door. He wanted to be a tease? Well the road worked both ways, and playing hard to get was your speciality.

John's hand skims your waist as you walk by, but you quickly jog down the stairs, out of his reach. The warmth from his fingers lingering on your skin as you make your way to the kitchen. You hear his footsteps on the stairs as you reach for your muck boots, still covered in mud from the rain last night. You lean down, pulling them on one at a time,your hands quickly becoming covered in dirt.

As you pull on your second boot, a sharp smack across your ass causes you to jump. You gasp standing up straight to come face to face with the smiling man you called your husband. “Jonathan Price!” you scold, brows furrowed as you glare at him.

“I couldn’t resist the perfect opportunity,” he chuckles, as you punch his chest. His much larger hand grasps your wrist as he tucks you into him. Your bodies pressed against each other, as your heart hammers in your chest. One arm winds its way around your waist as he leans in, his face angled towards you, your lips centimeters away.

“I’m sorry for being a bloody tease, I'll make it up to you. You’re always such a good girl, and you deserve to be worshiped. Not some quick before chores fuck. Wouldn’t be a proper man if the first time I had my way with you after being gone was a quick shag before we rushed off to take care of the chores.” He murmurs against your lips. A red blush creeps up your chest, painting your cheeks the same color as the sunrise.

“i..I” your brain short circuits as he closes the distance between your lips. For a moment you forget how to breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean into the kiss. His lips are warm and soft against your. His beard tickles your cheeks and chin as he squeezes the flesh of your hip, almost hard enough to hurt. His fingers left red impressions on the skin there, but you didn't care. You had missed him. You missed the way his rough fingers felt on your skin, the way his beard tickled your face when you kissed.

Even though he had physically come home to you last night, he was somewhere else mentally. He wasn't the playful and often a little grumpy man who doted on you last night. Ast night he was the broken, soul battered man who witnessed too much death. Too much pain for one lifetime. And even though you loved that part of him as much as you did the rest of him. When he was stuck in his own mind, battling the invisible monsters inside his own head. There was always this air of distance around him on those days. The days where he was physically in front of you but somewhere else entirely mentally were hard. The days where no matter how close you got to him, you still weren’t reaching him made your chest ache.

So in the moment, standing in the early morning glow of sunrise, you felt at peace again. The raging storm of uncertainty that plagued you when he withdrew into his own personal hell was calmed. The hollow aching hole in your chest you felt everytime he walked out that door for deployment was filled.

You used to think that your mother was crazy when she told you that one day you would meet someone whose soul spoke to yours. How one day someone would come into your life and your heart would be theirs before your mind got the chance to say no. It wasn't until you met John that you understood her words.

“ ‘mustn't keep the animal’s waiting, Sweetheart..” he whispers against your lips, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. He was right, you had a barn full of animals to feed and turn out. “Promise as soon as we’re done, I'll make it up to you..” he smiles, pressing one last kiss to your lips.

“You better,” You mumble, your brain still struggling to keep up from the rush of emotions that bubbles in your chest.

The old wooden door that leads to back door creaks as it scrapes along the worn porch. The soft breeze is warm against your skin as you both step out into the morning glow. The view from the back porch was your favorite. The acres of rolling pasture behind your house always looked peaceful as the sun rose over the horizon. The tall grass swaying in the morning breeze, as you take a deep breath.

There was nothing better than the smell just after it rains. The old red barn stands tall just off to the side of the house. No more than 50 feet from the side of the porch, the paint faded and weather worn. You had no idea how old the barn was exactly, you knew it dated around the same age as the house but there was no clear record of it being built. But it was one of the selling parts of the house for you. As soon as you saw it without seeing the inside of the house you had declared that this was your forever home.

This was the place you wanted to spend the rest of your life. John had just laughed, turning towards your real estate agent and telling them to put in an offer, despite the agent's reservations about buying such an old property. The agent had tried to talk you and John into buying one of the newly updated row houses in the bustling city but you had your heart set on the countryside. He had even gone as far as explaining that the house and barn were terribly out of code and would need costly repairs.

It was your little slice of heaven.

Pulling open the heavy wooden doors, you’re greeted by the sounds of shuffling animals as they rise. The sheep are all clambering to their feet as you walk towards them. A series of bleating comes from the group as you lean against the pen door.

“Good morning ladies!” you call as they all shift around the pen, a chorus of baa’s their response.

John makes his way over to the pen, carefully climbing over the wooden fencing. You watch as he hops into the pen, the sheep scattering to make way for him to walk through. You watch as he pulls open the small sliding door on the side of the barn. It leads into a fenced in pasture that you often kept the sheep in, during the rainy season so they could run into the barn for shelter. “Alright Ladies, out ya go!” he calls as he waves his arms at the flock. The sheep shove and push each other as they flee from his waving arms out the small door towards the open pasture.

After all the sheep have left the barn, you climb over the fence, your boots squelching in the muddy dirt floor of their pen. “We should lay some straw out, try to soak up some of this water, i don't want any of their hooves getting abscessed,” you glance down at the wet ground.

“Probably for the best, I’d hate for one of them to become lame,” John replies, leaning down to turn their water trough upright again. The shiny metal tub caked with mud, “Should probably bring this out, give it a good sprayin’ while they’re out.”

“The hose should still be connected!” you call over your shoulder as you walk towards the pile of straw in the corner of the pen. Leaning up on your toes you reach for the pitchfork that's resting against the outer wall of the pen. You pull the metal pitchfork up and over the wall, a few pieces of stray straw falling into your hair. After a few moments the ground of the sheep pen is covered in a thick layer of straw, and your brow is slick with sweat.

You wipe your forehead with the back of your arm as you stab the pitchfork into the ground. Movement catches your eye as John walks in with the now clean metal tub, a small smile on his face as he walks towards the gate of the pen. “You got something in your hair,” he laughs softly, reaching over the fence and plucking the stray straw out of your hair.

“Hey! That was my new fashion statement, didn't ya hear? Straw is the new Gucci,” You wink.

“Oh i'm terribly sorry, allow me,” John laughs as he reaches down and tosses a handful of straw at you. The pieces of straw rain down on your, sticking to your hair and sweat damp skin. A startled squeak passes your cover your head from the raining straw, earning a hearty laugh from your husband. You slowly lower your arms, a devilish smirk on your lips as you reach down grabbing your own straw to launch at him. But he's faster than you, with nimble movements he hops over the fence and tackles you to the ground. A cloud of straw plumes into the air as you both fall to the now smaller pile of straw in the corner of the stall. During the fall John had spun you so he took the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, with you hugged tight to his chest.

Your laughter quickly fills the barn as you both lay there for a moment catching your breath. You’re both completely covered in straw, it's stuck to your hair, your clothes, John's beard, there's even a piece stuck to his boonie hat.

“Now we’re both ready for the runway, don't ya think darlin’?” John smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Oh yes, we’re going to win and be on the cover of Vogue,” you laugh lightly rolling your eyes. After a moment you push yourself up from John’s chest, looking down at him, the smile still on your cheeks. You gently reach up, plucking the straw from the brim of his hat, letting it fall onto his face.

John sputters and shakes his head trying to shake the straw out of his beard, “you cheeky minx.”

“Now you’ll definitely be on the cover of Vogue,” you smile as you clamber off him. Brushing your hands down your clothes in an attempt to get the stuck pieces of straw off you. From the corner of your eye you see John stand doing the same, once most of the straw is off both of you. He reaches out, hands wrapping around your wrist as he tugs you into his chest. He drops a kiss into your hair, before his fingers catch the bottom of your chin and he tips it upwards.

His thumb runs along your bottom lip softly as he looks down at you. His sky blue eyes flickering between your lips and eyes. “You’re something else, you know that?” He breathes, leaning in to press his lips against your.

“I’ve been told once or twice by this grumpy old man,” You smirk against his lips, earning a small scoff from him. As quickly as the kiss started its over, and John is already climbing over the fence towards the other side of the barn.

You roll your eyes, following his path, climbing over the worn wooden fence. Your muddy boots hit the packed dirt of the aisle with a resounding thump. The dirt was far more compact in the center aisle of the barn than in the pens with the animals. Years ago you had asked John if you could pour a concrete walkway, but he had never gotten around to it between his deployments. You wipe your hands on your worn jeans, brushing off the residual dirt, as you walk over to where John is standing.

His arms resting on the tops of a stall door, his boonie hat tipped downward as he looked at the small animals inside. “Love?” He looks over at you,”who are they?” he points into the stall.

You lean up on your tiptoes, peering in at the small animals. Inside lay 3 miniature donkeys. They stand together in the back corner of the barn, all huddled in a group. Their large ears flickering as they listen to your voices. “That's Donald,” you point to a skewbald donkey, his dark brown eyes watching you.

“The all gray one is Daisy,” you point to the gray one in the back corner, her head resting on top of the last one, a cream one, much smaller than the others. “And the smaller cream colored one is their baby, Duey. Aren't they cute?” You smile.

John shakes his head, he tries to look annoyed at the new additions to the barn but he fails. A small smile playing on his lips as he hears you introduce your newest pets. This wasn't the first time you have gotten animals while he was away. The last long deployment he went on he came home to a drove of pigs. It took him nearly 3 weeks to convince you that you couldn't keep 12 pigs at once, even if you had the space for them. He felt terrible when you had to say goodbye to 10 of the pigs you had rescued, but John had assured you that he made sure they were going to lovely farms where they would live out the rest of their lives, not turned into bacon. It was the only way you would finally let them go.

Now he only had 2 resident Sows on the farm, who you affectionately named Squiggle and Periwinkle. Even though they were no longer piglets, the two sister pigs weighed well over 100lbs, you still loved them like they were tiny piglets. You would sit in their pen with them some days as they laid their giant heads on your lap, basking in the sun on warm afternoons.

So there wasn't really any surprise when he saw the 3 miniature donkeys in one of the previously unused stalls. If anything it was John’s fault for leaving you to your own devices for so long. But even with your habit of beginning home stray or unwanted farm animals, you always made sure that each animal that was brought into your care was given the best life possible. You spent hours each morning cleaning, feeding and turning them out. And while John knows you would love nothing more than to keep every animal that crosses your path, you know limits.

Oftentimes when you would bring home animals, you rescued them from auction, or inexperienced owners who thought they knew what they were getting into. But suddenly find themselves way over their heads. You would take the animals in, nurse them back to health and find them suitable homes. Ensuring that anyone who bought one of your animals knew that if something changed they were to bring it right back to you before sending it to auction.

“Are they staying? Or are we just a stop along their journey?” He asks, rubbing a hand across his beard.

“They’re temporary residents, Mrs. Rosen will be picking them up later this week once her outdoor run is built,” you smile, reaching over and unlatching the stall door.

“Alright,” he smiles, following behind you as you walk over, gently grabbing the halters of the two older donkeys. John quickly grabs the halter of the baby, and follows you out of the barn. The melodic beating of the donkeys hooves on the dirt as you guide them to a small pasture next to the sheep. As soon as the family of donkeys is safely turned out, you both head back into the barn and begin mucking out their stalls.

It was mornings like this that you enjoyed, although you and John were both focused on working. Neither of you carried on much of a conversation other than a few ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘behind you’s’ as you worked. It was enjoyable. There was something peaceful about getting the morning chores done together. There wasn't a need for the awkward small talk that some couples felt they needed to use to fill the silence. You both just found joy in spending quiet moments together.

After the Donkey stall had been thoroughly cleaned, it was time to tend to your personal favorite residents of the barn. With pockets stuffed full of peppermints you make your way to the last two stalls at the end of the barn. Their metal name plates set them apart from the others. As you get closer two large heads poke out from the stall.

“There's my girl,” John hums, walking over to stand in front of the stall, a smile on his face.

Rookie was a Chestnut English thoroughbred, with dark brown eyes that you swore saw straight through to a very person's soul. She was 12, 17 hands high, and absolutely smitten with your husband. You had found Rookie abandoned in an old barn, she was emaciated, and covered in rain rot. You had no intention of bringing another horse into your lives, having just lost one to Colic a month before you found her. But you couldn't leave her.

You had fully expected the abandoned horse to spook, to react poorly to you invading her space. But Rookie seemed to understand you were there to help. She stood still as you fashioned a rope halter from some old baling twine. She didn't flinch when you checked over her hooves and legs, making sure she was sound to walk the long distance home. She was well behaved the entire time you walked her home, she never spooked at a passing car or strange sound.

Although she never fought you once on your long journey home, it wasn't until she saw John that her personality seemed to come to life. She was a playful horse at heart, and her favorite person was very much your gruff husband. The first time she met him, he had come out to the barn to help you with the chores. He had leant down to grab something from the ground in front of her stall and she plucked his Boonie hat right from his head. Tossing it onto the ground in front of him.

At first John had mistaken her taking his hat as her trying to nip at him but when the incident kept happening, he realized she was trying to get his attention. It was the same day that John learnt she knew a few tricks. She could bow, and smile, she also knew how to rear on command. He was also the first one to ride her, and she responded beautifully to him. She would come right up to him when he was walking into the pasture, and she loved to lay her head on his shoulder.

Price reaches out, Rookie bumping his hand with her muzzle, as he stroked her softly. A soft nicker came from her as he talked softly to her. Showering her with praise as he pet her, patting her strong neck affectionately.

“I swear you love her more than me,” You tease, coming to stand in front of the other stall. Where another large head their nose out, though he was far larger than Rookie. Captain was your horse, he was an old shire horse. You were given him by your elderly neighbor, from what she knew Captain was in his early 20’s. He was once a carriage horse for a popular horse drawn carriage ride in the city. But he had been sold when the owners of the carriages wanted to change the look from the shire horse to Clydesdales. Claiming that the Shire horse was becoming too hard to find with their dwindling numbers.

Thankfully Captain had ended up with your neighbor instead of being sold to an auction house where his fate could’ve been much worse. She had kept Captain for a few years before her health became frail, and the year you moved into the farmhouse she had asked if you could take care of him for her while she was in hospital. But unfortunately she never came home, and her family didn't have the means to take care of Captain.

So now the giant Shire was yours. He was a lot like Price in aspects of personality, he was a little grumpy, and tended to be strong headed about certain things. Like he would only eat a specific brand of peppermints, which he now nuzzles your pocket trying to get.

You can't help the cheek aching smile that takes over as Captain tries to get the peppermints out of your pockets. Your hands pressed against his face to try and keep him back but it's useless against the strong animal. “Alright, alright! I know what you want!” you laugh, finally pulling out the plastic wrapped mints for him.

He tosses his head in the air, his upper lip curled up in what looks to be a smile.Youo unwrap a few, laying your hand flat for him to take them. Rookies large head nudging your hand for some of her own.

“Okay okay, hold on, you pushy mare,” You laugh, quickly unwrapping some more to give to her. Both horses crunch the mints, as John wanders off to the feed bucket. He scoops their feed into the plastic buckets. Making sure to add the supplements for the needs of each horse before he brings them to their outdoor feeding troughs. Both horses were well accustomed to the routines and as you unlatched their stall doors and shoves them open they both walked to their pasture. Tails swished with each step, after they had both been secured in the largest pasture on this side of the property. You stand next to John watching the animals happily grazing in their fields.

His strong arm wrapped around your shoulder, his lips pressed to the side of your hair. You lean into his side, the soft breeze gently caressing your skin as you stand together. Just taking in the peaceful morning, the birds chirping overhead in the trees.

“I didn't think I would ever end up with my own personal safe haven..” John whispers.

“No?”

“No.. I didn't think it was in the cards for me… I didn't think a man like me deserved it. But, have shown me that everyone deserves some peace,” He whispers, looking down at you. The morning sun highlights your beauty, as the sun rises higher in the sky.

“You’re not as terrible as you think Jonathan Price, in fact I think you’re one of the most amazing men I have ever met. There’s no one I wouldn't want to share my life with, other than you.” You lean up pressing your lips to his, a smile playing on the corner of your mouth.

“I believe I owe you something..” He whispers against your lips, his hands coming to cup the sides of your face, your own hands resting on his waist.

“Oh?” You hum.

“Yes, I do,” He smirks, large hands sliding down you grip your waist. He hauls you up his body, your legs locking around his hips. His hands grab your ass as he starts walking towards the house. “You’ve been driving me crazy all morning in these tight little jeans of yours. I think it’s time they come off.”

Next: Part 3

Taglist: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

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