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oceantornadoo · 13 days

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hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.

im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!

bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)

you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.

that explains a lot.

and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)

"evenin', duckie."

"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."

john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.

"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.

"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.

"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...

"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."

"anythin' for you, duckie."

list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner

shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.

"all ok, john?"

"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.

"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.

"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.

"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."

"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.

"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.

30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?

john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.

that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.

john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.

"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.

you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.

"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.

"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."

ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.

#john price #price #cod price #captain john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price #price imagine #price headcanons #price one shot #john price x you #captain johnathan price #john price x y/n #tornadothoughts

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ghostandsoap · 6 months

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You liked sitting on his lap. John liked when you sat on his lap. It was something he could never refuse, so when you asked tonight, he said;

"Just for a few minutes, my love. I'm tired tonight."

Tired he most certainly was. In some form or another, John was always tired. It made sense, considering the pressure and stress that was bestowed upon him on a daily basis.

He had meant it when he said "just for a few minutes," and you totally respected his wishes.

Cut to 45 minutes later, you were still on his lap, doing much more than just sitting.

Somewhere along the way, T-shirts and pants were stripped and discarded for the night, leaving both of you bare and exposed to one another.

The gentle kisses and touches turned hot and passionate, and before he knew it, you were rising and sinking on his cock like your life depended on it.

The insides of your thighs and his lap were soaked, leaking down the sides of his hips onto the mattress beneath him. His hands were glued to your waist, holding on to you like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world.

And frankly, you were the only thing that mattered right now.

John Price was a mess. His brain was so foggy and fuzzy that he couldn't form a singular thought other than a silent beg to you that said: please don't stop.

He was groaning, whimpering, and moaning every time you slammed back down onto his cock. The noises coming out of him were so desperate and so raw...so needy.

In a way, you almost felt bad for working him like this when you knew how exhausted he was. Although, John wasn't complaining in the slightest because tired or not -- this was perfect.

The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock and his tip prodding far inside of you was intoxicating. He could do this forever if he could.

A fuck-drunk smile spread on his face as he peered at you through glazed eyes, his voice strained and breathy.

“F-Fuck,” Price heaved, his chest rising and falling with every deep inhale and exhale of air. “Keep fuckin’ me just like that, baby.”

Your hands were splayed on his chest, as you rocked, dragged, and rolled your hips on his cock so perfectly that he was sure that he was dreaming this up.

"Pretty baby...s-so fuckin' beautiful," He whimpered, struggling to even get the words out. "My pretty girl."

His lips were hot and trembling when he lifted himself enough to kiss you, his heart fluttering when you softly laughed.

"I love you, John." You whispered against his lips, his cock twitching inside of you from all the stimulation.

"Oh fuck, darling..." He groaned, gasping for air. "I love you."

If this is what "sitting on his lap" would be from now on, then his seat was always open.

#john price #john price x reader #john price x fem! reader #john price x female reader #john price smut #john price imagine #john price smut one-shot #john price fanfiction #ghostandsoap

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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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cooliofango · 5 months

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pocket princess!! if you feel up to it could you pls write something fluffy with price x reader x soap. id love to see something lighthearted with price handling his loves <3!!

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Pairing: Price x Reader x Soap

Word Count: 727

Synopsis: A soft shared moment of peace between the three loved ones on a snowy night 🫶

A/N: Absolutely crying cause I couldn’t think of how to make this one longer 😭😭😭. I hated how long this was taking tho so I did my best, I hope you like it! I will continue to work on your Gaz ask and make it longer I promise 👀

Cw: None! It’s fluffy content between Bun’s favorite boys 🫶

Winter is always one of your favorite seasons. It definitely isn’t because of the snow. You hate having to constantly uncover the white flakes of frozen water from your car and pray that the doors aren’t frozen shut. It isn’t necessarily because of the holidays, even if they are always fun to celebrate with loved ones. It’s not even about the peppermint lattes you love to get on the way to work every morning when it’s being sold at your local cafe. Winter is your favorite season because of the moment you currently find yourself in.

The dim light of the television was the only thing illuminating your shared bedroom. The chatter of the late night show was quiet, just although loud to hear the men gossip about the actor’s movie and their experience on set. “It’s all rubbish, the reviews he’s speakin’ of..” You hear John lazily mumble against the right side of your collarbone, “The movie wasn’t any good.” The brit is against your side with an arm wrapped snugly just under your chest. His head rests on your shoulder, nearly falling asleep on you as the season’s early nights took its toll. The neatly trimmed mutton chops tickle your skin as he settles further against you. It’s a warm weight against you that you’ve grown familiar with, as well as come to love.

“Didn’t know ye watch cheesy rom coms, captain.” The Scottish accent of your other boyfriend fills your senses from your left and you turn to look at him with the same amused smile he’s wearing. Johnny’s eyes are closed, more in a half conscious state than John is. His head rests lower on your body, more against your chest than your collarbone, with an arm around your stomach, leaving you sandwiched in between the two men you loved so dearly. In addition, one of his legs is also laced with yours.

“Occasionally..” John mutters after a moment’s silence, earning a quiet chuckle from the scot.

The lighthearted banter between the two of them was always endearing to you, filling you with more warmth than the heat the two bodies around you did. It was more than welcome with how cold it’s been lately. You take a glance out the window on the left wall of the room, watching as large snowflakes fall down continuously. The hand on John’s shoulder absentmindedly toys with the hem of his sleeve while the other traces gentle patterns onto Johnny’s back.

These moments are scarce, but you cherish them with every fiber of your being. It’s not everyday you get to enjoy the peace and quiet. The worries that plagued your mind everytime the two went out for work are non-existent, even if it's temporarily. It is as if the dangers and horrors of the real world just aren’t there anymore and it was just the three of you.

A heavy sigh of content left Johnny and you could feel his weight against you become heavier as he relaxed. John places a soft kiss against your warm skin. You smiled lovingly at the feeling, tilting your head to rest against the top of his.

A yawn slips past your lips and John smiles against your collarbone at the sound, reaching behind him to pluck the remote from the bedside table. His movements are slow and careful, not wanting to jostle the two of you too much and disturb the peace that’s made its way into the atmosphere. “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” John whispered to you. He hit the power button, sending the room into total darkness before setting the remote back onto the table. His weight shifts back onto you, easily snuggling back into the spot against you. The blanket is pulled back over you before his arm returns back across your torso.

“You, too. G’Night, Johnny,” John said this with a gentle tap to Johnny’s nose with his knuckle. The scot simply huffs, already in the process of dozing off against you.

The room grows silent now, save for the collective breaths of relaxation being shared between the three of you. Your head falls to lean against the pillow under it, eyes falling shut. The warmth of the two men’s physical presence and love helps you to settle in a blanket of comfort. It works wonders lulling you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Taglist 🏷️

@bunnyreaper @bookobsessedram @numberonetastemakerwhispers @a-very-bored-blogger @hawsx3 @ohworm-writes @tokusho @kitkatscabinet

#cooliofango writes #john price x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #price x reader x soap #soap x reader x price #pricesoap x reader #soapprice x reader #requests open #reader insert #oneshots #requests #one shots #lovely bun 💕🐰

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gatitties · 7 months

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Half dead

─Task Force 141 x young!reader

─Summary: trapped after a mission, not everything seems to be going well for you, a deadly virus attacks the world and it seems that your provisional team is not very smart

─Warnings: blood, mentions of dismemberments, descriptive scenes¿, bad words, cliché, death, typical CoD violence

Part One / Part Two

I consider this as something special for Halloween¿¿, anyway I wanted to write a zombie!reader, if you have more ideas related don't be shy to request 😗

It was a hot day, too hot to be able to last more hours in the combat suit, as if that were not enough, you had been assigned with other officers for this specific mission, you did not have enough confidence to make jokes or sing a small part of that song stuck in your mind, it was the most boring day of your life but work was work.

Everything went well, maybe too well, and of course everything that ends well always has to have some setback since nothing and no one is perfect, but what you expected was that some enemy had escaped, some threat of death or things like that, however, you did not expect a virus spreading globally.

You were pretty screwed, all communication with the base was cut off, all the information was left with infected people that you had to avoid at all costs until you reached a safe and decontaminated area. You feared the worst and it seems like you're always right when you do since you were living through a fucking zombie apocalypse, it wasn't a big surprise to encounter several walking corpses on your way to the base after you were given specific orders to kill anyone who looked rotten.

What kind of time had you grown up in? It wasn't enough with a global pandemic that now you have to face a fucking apocalypse, you would prefer to have been born in the Middle Ages, at least they could have condemned you to death by burning at the stake or some far-fetched torture, it sounded more interesting and horrifying than simply a bacterial contagion.

The arrival at the base was complicated when you found a large horde, you supported the idea of surrounding the zombies but apparently the two assigned captains decided to play to see who had the biggest dick and see who could kill the most undead, they were orders from captain and you couldn't just go back to your boys until this stupid situation was over.

Apparently the only thing they managed to do was attract half of the infected city to your position, which ended in you having to separate and fight on your own. In turn, your luck wasn't smiling on you today Does that ever happen anyway? It didn't matter anymore because you were officially infected, the bite on your forearm made you bite your tongue when you saw the color of the blood mixed with yellow spittle, you were too slow and cowardly to cut off another arm at, yes, they had to bite you on your only good arm, you were so lucky.

From that moment on the infected lost interest in you, they nipped you a little and found one of your companions who was fleeing from another horde more delicious, well, screw life, at least you were able to enjoy everything you could, a shame that you can no longer continue bothering the boys with your presence.

You lay on the ground, looking at the scorching sun, your hand moved to your belt, grabbing a small radio that connected you to the central base, your pulse was unstable and your whole body began to shake, the heat became unbearable and you thought that you were experiencing hyperhidrosis. You pressed the button and brought the device closer to your mouth with the little strength you had.

"Hello… hello here “nibbles” the mission was a success, I guess you know that, but we had some complications on the way home, that virus, those stupid zombies" your breathing accelerated and for a moment you almost vomited right there "ugh… it doesn't matter, I- I don't think I'm going to make it in one piece even though I'm already missing an arm and I'm not 'in one piece' per se but…"

Even in a situation like this you couldn't help but make jokes, you continued your little talk until you felt like your consciousness was finally fading.

"I'm sorry, what I wanted to say is that I will miss you and that I will save you a special seat in hell, I don't know if we will see each other again but if we do I hope you have a bullet reserved in my name before I cause more problems , bye bye you idiots…"

You didn't want to seem too sentimental, but all the emotions and memories tightened your chest, you let the message be sent as you closed your eyes smiling at the sky, your body began to cool, suffocating the previous feeling of extreme heat.

You expected it, you expected to wake up, see the world in a different color, growl, search for meat, you know all that zombies do, however when you woke up a headache was what bothered you the most, the moon was shining in all its splendor, even though you didn't know if you'd slept a whole day or more, your whole body still felt strange and numb, like you'd taken a beating and couldn't feel anything.

But the thing was that apart from a strange feeling of being very hungry and the numbness of your body, everything remained the same, the bite mark disappeared, your wounds healed… you thought that maybe you were the cliché character who had antibodies against the zombie virus, but seeing how some of the living dead walked past you, ignoring you, made you think that it wasn't like that.

You were dead, at least, half dead, your body seemed capable enough to withstand the virus, but only half of the antibodies seemed to work on it so you were in a kind of limbo. You didn't have the need to specifically eat human meat, you still had rational thoughts (to a certain extent because you were still you), but you didn't feel your body, your skin changed its tone to a more yellowish one? you were definitely rotting, besides…

"Is this some kind of punishment for all that dark humor? I guess that's fair."

Was what you muttered to you between grunts, something else, it seemed like you weren't going to be able to speak properly since your throat seemed damaged. When you got up, one of your eyes fell out of its socket, it was hanging from the nerve, you did your best to put it in its place. You checked that your whole body responded to your movements and it did, so now you didn't know what to do. Should you go back to base? Would they kill you now that you know you're a zombie? You didn't have much to lose anyway, maybe you could say goodbye to the boys properly.

At dawn you found yourself banging on the armored doors, you were greeted by a bunch of clipped shotguns and AKs that completely lowered themselves when they recognized you, you underwent certain decontamination chambers and they let you pass. No suspicion? You looked like a terminally ill person, what kind of security was this? You couldn't complain either.

"Oh God look, where the hell were you!? and why did that message come yesterday!?"

As soon as you set foot in the meeting room where some soldiers dragged you away, Price's angry voice hit you like a slap.

"Not even a hello? How was your mission?"

You smiled swallowing your nerves, for once you felt intimidated because everyone was there watching as if you were a prey, you could see that their intentions were to look for any type of bite, although again, no one noticed that you looked like a decomposing body? Did you look that bad normally? Hard blow to your morale.

"We were worried about you, you seem sick, did you spend the night out because of that? You have the voice of a sailor with a cold."

Soap approached you but you backed away unconsciously when he reached for your arm, Gaz and Price shared a stunned look while Ghost's eyes darkened.

"Eh… I'm sorry, I think you shouldn't touch me, I think- I think-" you didn't have the courage to say it out loud, despite all the inside jokes you had made with yourself about being a walking corpse, you felt like it was too much worse to tell them because they would have to be the ones to kill you, the ones to kill their own partner, but it would be easier and less dangerous for them, right? "I'm infected."

The room fell silent, you avoided any kind of eye contact while they seemed to argue silently, Gaz was the one who stepped forward to Soap's side, a step closer to you.

"Maybe you're being paranoid, you just look sick, it's not the first time we've seen you with a fever, the last time you thought you were Spiderman and you hung from a lamp, remember?"

As much as you wanted to laugh at that memory you slowly denied, they didn't believe you in the slightest due to your constant jokes, thinking that you joked even in a situation like this (which isn't a lie if you weren't already a zombie), you swallowed dryly when this time it was Ghost that approached you, you knew that you wouldn't be able to dodge him if he tried to grab your arm, not like Soap, and so it was, you didn't feel his grip on your non-prosthetic arm but you saw it clearly, his look was slowly killing you.

"Prove it, if you are infected, prove it."

"Only if you promise to kill me."

And inevitably everyone tensed up because of the seriousness with which you said that, they didn't see that confidence in your words very often, and your determined look… they didn't want to think what they were thinking, they didn't want to accept that you had really become one of those walking rotten things, you were there, you could talk ─with a little difficulty─ but you seemed as normal as ever, how was it possible that you were infected if you didn't look like a monster?

Ironically they had to believe it by force, since you couldn't feel, you didn't notice that Ghost hadn't let go of your arm, the grip was stronger than you thought and it resulted in you turning around and taking a couple of steps to go to the cells, your arm came off your shoulder, at first they thought it was simply your prosthetic arm, but it wasn't like that.

"Oh fuck…"

Gaz leaned on Soap, Price sat in the nearest chair while Ghost looked in detail at how the bone in your arm protruded from the detached appendage as well as some veins that looked like small threads clinging to the rest of your body since they had not detached completely. You smiled embarrassed at the ignorance that you were now a Playmobil, as if that were not enough, your eye fell out of its socket again at that precise moment.

"Uh- oh, I think there you have your evidences, do you need me to start smelling like rotten meat or…?"

Ghost put your arm back in its place slowly, taking a step back, although it fell again and you had to use a handkerchief to make it stay in its place, you put your eye back in its socket, it slipped a couple of times because it was now wet due to some stubborn tears.

"Hey, hey, we're not going to kill you, I'm not going to-"

Soap had the intention of calming you down, trying to reach you although both Gaz and Ghost stopped him before he could get close to you, seeing this was like having a thorn stuck in your heart.

"No, it's fine, really, I came here so you could finish me off, one less threat on the battlefield."

You intended the joke to be funny, but all you earned were silent stares, right now you felt completely out of place, in an awkward silence between you and your team.

"No, no, you haven't thought about this have you? We can't kill you idiot." Price's insult and his usual scolding tone was the only thing that made you feel back on earth, everyone looked at him, he seemed to be fuming from his ears while the gears in his head turned "From the little we know, all the zombies have been aggressive and driven by impulses towards all kinds of life, but you're here having a normal conversation and being the dumbass you usually are on a normal day, don't you understand? We can't kill you, they can't kill you, you're different."

Oh that part came, you're different from the rest, you lived your whole life to be told that, man, were you in a fanfic? At least you hoped it wasn't one of those where they decided to put photos of outfits instead of describing the clothes or one of those where they gave you an overly detailed look.

"Does that mean I can stay half alive?"

"For the moment, anyway, no one else has to know."

Clicking your tongue as if finding out that you would still be alive was bad news, returning to your natural state of humor everyone looked at you disapprovingly, everyone seemed to sigh in relief at Price's comment, Soap and Gaz were the first to approach knowing that you wouldn't do anything, although Ghost insisted on putting a muzzle on you just in case.

For the moment they could keep you hidden from the rest of the soldiers inside the base, but it wouldn't take long for your skin to rot completely, and the smell of death was something that wasn't so easy to hide, they were playing against time until someone found you and inform it, seeing your unusual behavior as a zombie would surely draw the attention of the scientists and these guys wouldn't be willing to have you tortured in the name of science and then not get a shitty cure, they weren't risking that for you.

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girlwitheconverse · 28 days

Text

STRAWBERRIES

╰┈➤ KEEGAN P. RUSS

Pairing: Keegan x singlemom!reader

Genre: fluff

Story type: one shot

Word count: 2k

TW: unexpected pregnancy

masterlist

You take a sip of your iced coffee, well deserved you must say, as you look around the coffee shop finally relaxing after a stressing day.

Then you remember that it’s still 10 in the morning and that your work break ends in ten minutes.

The life of a single mother of a toddler of four isn’t easy by any means but you wouldn’t change it for the world, you love Ellie, your daughter, too much to even think of a life without her. You remember all the emotion you felt the day you discovered you were pregnant: shock, fear, and excitement; in this precise order. Ellie’s father probably stopped at shock, because the day after you told him you were pregnant you received a break-up message and he ghosted you.

He disappeared. Completely. Even moved out of his apartment.

Your parents? Like the religious people they are…They kicked you out of the house because you had a kid outside marriage! How outrageous of you.

“Sorry? Is this seat free?” a deep voice makes you come back with your mind on earth, you look at the man and damn is he handsome. Black hair, blue eyes, athletic…Definitely your type. Before answering you look around: the place is almost empty and there are plenty of free tables. Is he…Does he like me? Is the first explanation that comes to your mind but you can’t be sure of it: maybe he just doesn’t like to sit alone.

You nod with a polite smile “Yes.”

The mysterious handsome man sits in front of you and places his cappuccino on the table. The air between you two is awkward so you decide to say something.

Because standing up and leaving seems mean.

But before you can say anything he speaks, “My name is Keegan.”

You blink a few times, then smile “I’m Y/n”

He’s definitely trying to flirt with me.

“I’m not usually one to flirt like this so forgive me if I'm straightforward but that's just how I am.” He says, leaving you shocked. “But…I think you’re beautiful”

You notice his ears getting red and smile at the cuteness. “Thank you, Keegan.”

When was the last time a man flirted with you? You can’t even remember. Every time you go out you have Ellie glued to the hip and that makes most men run away. You’d be lying if you said you didn't like the attention.

“Would you…like to go on a date with me?” He asks as he looks into your eyes, he is indeed very straightforward.

“I…” You try to buy yourself time by taking the last sip of your coffee, should I say yes? He’s totally my type…But what if he drops me as soon as I tell him I have a daughter? Maybe I should just see how the date goes and then decide how to procede. Yes. Definitely that. “Why not?” you say with a smile.

He smiles too and Oh God, his smile is so pretty you feel like you’ve already fallen in love. He hands you his phone to put your number in it, you do so and then stand up.

“I need to go back to work, it was a pleasure meeting you, Keegan…I’ll wait for your text then.” You smile at him and walk outside the cafe, already calling your best friend.

“Girl, I need you to babysit Ellie someday…I don’t know when but I’m going on a date with this super handsome guy and-” before you can finish talking your best friend screams.

“Going out with a guy? An handsome one? You? Damn I’ll babysit Ellie anytime! You go get that D while me and your daughter have a tea party while we talk shit about Cinderella, never liked that bitch anyway.” You laugh and can’t help but feel grateful for having her as best friend.

A week later

“Do I look cute?” You ask as you show your best friend your outfit “it’s a picnic date, I wanted to stay on theme”

“You really went for the slutty sundress, uh” she says with a smirk, your eyes shoot wide and you look down at Ellie, hoping she didn't hear the swearword.

“Mommy pretty!” She says as she hugs your legs, you pick her up and kiss her round cheek, chuckling as you need to clean your lipstick off her cheek.

“Mommy loves you.” you say before placing her on the ground, “Mommy is going out with a friend okay? I’ll see you later.”

The doorbell rings and you hold back a scream of excitement before picking your purse and walking outside, making sure that Keegan couldn't see Ellie from the door.

“H-hi.” You stutter as you see his outfit, a white t-shirt and brown pants, he’s holding a picnic basket, nothing spectacular but he looks so handsome. His bicep is so big.

He smiles and you notice him looking at you from head to toe, “Hi…Let’s go, I know you can’t wait to see my secret spot.” He says with a chuckle and you two start walking side by side. You and him have been texting each other for the past week and you discovered that he’s in the military, it now makes sense why he has such perfect physique, you also told him about your job as a banker.

As you walk, you chat about anything and everything, from your favorite books to the most embarrassing moments of your childhood. Keegan is easy to talk to, and his warm laughter puts you at ease. You can't help but wonder what he would be like with Ellie, but you quickly shake off the thought, reminding yourself that it's too early to think about that.

The spots he brings you to is a beautiful park with green grass and flowers, “it’s beautiful!” You say as you look around while he puts a blanket over the grass.

“Next time I’m taking you to the beach.” He says as you both sit down on the blanket.

“I love the beach!” You say excited, it’s been so long since you felt like this…Like a woman and not only a mother. “And I love sushi too…” You say as he takes the food out of the basket.

“Yeah, you already told me that a few times by message.” He says with a chuckle, remembering how you spent more than twenty messages talking about sushi.

“It was my worst craving when I was-” You stop before you can say too much, you still haven't told him about Ellie “When I was sick a few months ago, but the doctor said I couldn't eat any.”

He shakes his head and hands you a pair of chopsticks, “Oh, I almost forgot” he says as he picks from the basket a bottle of white wine and two glasses.

“The wine too?” You say shocked but with a smile on your face.

“Of course.” Keegan puts some wine in a glass and hands it to you, “to this date.”

“Hoping that this will be the first of many.” You add before you take a sip of the wine.

You two spend an hour eating and chatting before you lay down on the blanket with a sigh and a smile “I’m so full!”

“Even for these?” Keegan asks as he takes out of the basket strawberries that have been dipped in chocolate.

“I’m never full for these” you say with a chuckle.

“Say ah…” He says as he picks a strawberry and places it near your mouth, you blush but let him feed you the strawberry.

The sweet taste of chocolate and strawberry floods your mouth, followed by the warmth of Keegan's gaze. You blush profusely, your heart pounding in your chest as he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You sit up and pick a strawberry, “say ah…” you say as you feed him the strawberry, he laughs but lets you feed him. “ops, you’ve got chocolate here” you say before kissing his lips. He’s frozen at first and you think you’ve gone too far, but then he places his hand on the back of your head and deepens the kiss.

The kiss is a heady, intoxicating rush that seems to consume every part of you, spiraling through you and leaving you breathless, your senses filled to the brim. The world narrows down to just the two of you, and for that moment, nothing else matters. As you reluctantly pull away, still caught in the lingering haze of the kiss, you can't help the bubbling laughter that escapes your lips. Keegan, ever so stoic, stands there looking utterly bemused, that stunned expression on his face worth a thousand words.

"That was... unexpected," he murmurs, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a thrill running down your spine. There's a hint of a smile playing on his lips, a soft, almost shy admission that echoes your own feelings.

A month and a half later

You’re panicking as you text to Keegan, cancelling the date (one of the many you two had in the past month and half) last minute because your best friend just told you she has a fever and can’t babysit Ellie. Is also too late to call a a babysitter, so you don’t have any other choice if not to stay at home with Ellie…Ellie, whom you still haven't told anything to Keegan.

I’m getting deployed tomorrow after lunch, we won’t see each other for two month after that…You really can’t come?

I’m sorry but my stomach hurts so much, I just got my period :(

Then I’m coming at your place with some chocolate ice cream and chips

You really don’t have to

Too bad I'm already in my car.

You sigh you look at the text and sit on the couch, damn him and his perfect personality. Maybe it’s the universe telling you to stop hiding the truth from him, to stop ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Mommy look!” Ellie says as she shows you the drawing she just made: some yellow on top of the paper and then blue on the bottom, “It’s sea!” With that you realize that you were holding the drawing upside down.

“Oh my! It’s so pretty! This definitely goes on the fridge” you say as you stand up to put her drawing on the fridge, next to your favorite drawing she made: the one with the two of you.

“Yay! Mommy likes it!” She says as she jumps up and down happily, you pick her up and kiss her cheek.

“Listen, Ellie, mommy’s friend is coming here and you need to be a good girl okay?”

“Auntie?” she immediately thinks of your best friend.

“No, not Auntie, another friend.” As soon as you say those words the doorbell rings.

You place Ellie down and walk towards the door, when you see Keegan standing outside with his hands full of snacks your heart breaks because of all the lies you told him but now is the moment of the truth. Will he run away? Will he get mad? You couldn't really blame him if he did so, not after all the lies.

You smile, “Thank you, really but…I need to tell you something…”

“What’s wrong?” He asks worried, but before you can speak a little voice behind you speaks and a little head pokes out the door.

“Mommy friend came?” Ellie asks as she looks up at Keegan with her big eyes. The man looks at you confused and you give him an awkward smile.

“I think it’s better if you come in.” You say as you let him in, Keegan enters and places the snack on the coffe table in front of the couch in the living room.

You place your hands on Ellie’s shoulder and take a deep breath, “Keegan, this is Ellie…My daughter”

To say that he’s shocked is an understatement, he stutters for the first time since you have started dating him, “w-what?”

“I shouldn’t have hidden this from you and i’m so sorry for my stupid actions I was just…afraid I guess at the thought of losing you.” You admit and Ellie looks up at you with a confused expression, you don’t want her to think that you don’t love her.

“You thought I’d leave you because you have a daughter?” He says even more shocked than before.

“That’s what most men do when I tell them.”

“I am not the type to do something like that, I love you and the fact that you have a daughter? Just makes me love you more” your heart flutters as he drops the l-word and your cheek flush red.

“You love me?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Damn if I do!”

“I love you too…And I was so scared of losing you, I’m so sorry…” You say with a smile, he smiles back and then crunches down to Ellie’s height, smiling at her.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Keegan, mommy’s…friend” Keegan says with a smile as he holds out his hand towards Ellie.

“Hi I’m Ellie” Your daughter says as she puts her small hands in his, shaking it clumsily.

It was such a sweet moment and you were almost tearing up when, “Are you my daddy?” Ellie suddenly says. You choke on your own saliva and Keegan laughs, shaking his head.

“No…Not yet at least” Keegan says as he smiles up at you.

“Watch Mulan with me?” Ellie changes subject immediately, very much toddler like, and pulls Keegan towards the couch. You can’t help but laugh as you look at the two of them playing together, feeling like you just found the missing piece of your puzzle, which is now perfect.

Ugh, this probably sucks and I’m sorry but I recently got back to writing and I’m trying to stay consistent to it :(

If you liked the story don’t forget to like, reblog and maybe even leave a comment :)

And remember, my inbox is always open for requests! even anonymous ones (emoji anon too!)

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iblameashley · 1 month

Text

Ghost Falls Silent, Simon Stands

Civilian | Male | Gay

3,800~ words

Content: Hospitalization, recovery, cohabitation, use of 'lad' (gendered language?), nightmares, gay stuff, fluff, happy ending.

Follow up to Something to look forward to

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male

!!!SFW!!!

When Simon "Ghost" Riley is injured protecting you, his recovery means a month confined to home - that is, after two weeks of sedation in the base medical wing. Captain Price requests you stay and assist. Through highs and lows, you stand steadfast by Ghost's side. As feelings begin to emerge, Ghost must confront what it means to open his heart some more and whether a future beyond warfare could truly be possible or if he'll continue fighting alone.

Tag List: @a-sleepy-dissapointment

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

You had been sitting outside of Simon's room in the medical wing as Price came along to have a 'talk' with him. You weren't too far from the door, but were close enough to hear Price's deep, commanding voice as he scolded Simon like a father would to a child.

Simon had been protesting his medical leave recommended by the staff. There was rarely an opportunity for them to get the Ghost in for any type of examination, and now that he had been there for a little over two weeks, they were recommending a month of medical leave, and this did not go over well with Simon.

So Price had made a request of you first, asking if you'd be willing to continue to watch over Simon when Price sent him home for recovery. You of course agreed, you'd become rather fond of that lumbering, stoic idiot.

And now here you were, unintentionally eavesdropping on Price and Simon.

“Simon Riley, I swear to God if you fuck this friendship up, I will put a bullet in you myself, you damn muppet!” Price fired back.

“I'm good to go, Price. The wound is healed, I just need a little training to get back into proper form... it shouldn't take more than a couple days at most, sir.” Simon replied, clearly trying to charm his way back into work with his confident tone.

Price was having none of it.

“Absolutely not.” Price shot him down without question. “I can't spare this room much longer, I can't spare Soap or Gaz to watch over your ass for a whole month, and I can't trust you to sit down and relax on base for the next month.” He grumbled with annoyance. “My best option is that wonderful lad out there who, for some reason, has been here for you since you were brought in. No complaints and no problems. He wants to be here, he wants to be your friend, and he wants to watch over you for the next month!”

Price stopped his tongue-lashing long enough to catch his breath, and Simon sat silently for a moment as his brain processed everything.

You of course were sitting in the corridor with a shit-eating grin on your face. Price was likely the only person on Earth who could talk to Simon this way and live, and it tickled you to know that Simon would bend to Price's will if enough pressure was applied.

“Fine.” Simon finally huffed. He surrendered to Price's demand. “But...”

“No 'buts', Simon. He will be accompanying you back to your flat and staying with you for the next month.”

You didn't need to be in the room to know the look Simon had on his face.

“Fine.” He said again in a tempestuous tone.

An image of Simon sitting in the bed with his arms crossed came to mind and you let out a breathy chuckle.

“When will I be discharged into his care?” Simon asked, pulling you from you daydream.

“Seventeen hundred hours, when he's technically finished his work for the day. You'll be loaded into a vehicle together and driven home.” Price explained. “I've already gone ahead and had Soap and Gaz prepare your flat for the two of you, since they had a few hours to spare today. You'll have groceries stocked and beds turned down. Soap may have ate the chocolates meant for the pillows, though.” Price joked.

With nothing more to say, Simon was resigned to his fate.

“Good lad.” Price said before leaving Simon's room. He flashed you a look and smile, “He'll be your problem in a few hours.”

“He always was.” You joked, giving Price a nod as he continued on his way down the corridor.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Day 4

Its been four days. Four.

You woke up to the smell of something burning and a voice cursing form the kitchen in a Manchester accent. Simon. You threw the blankets back and begrudgingly sat up from the small cot Gaz and Soap had placed in the den of Simon's flat for you. It took a moment to gather your thoughts and boot your brain up enough to wander out into the kitchen to see some charcoal – apparently eggs – in the frying pan on the stove. There were some sausages cooking in another pan as well. Simon was limping around the kitchen looking for a solution.

“Little early in the morning to be trying to kill us both, don't ya' think?” You yawn as you walked over to the stove and pulled the pan off, tossing the chunks of eggs into the sink.

“I didn't ask for a babysitter.” Simon grunted. You notice him wince as he reached for something on the top cupboard, and you shake your head.

You drop the burnt pan into the sink and grab a new one, not quite hiding your frustration.

“Then stop acting like a fucking baby.” You shot back with a bit more vitriol than intended. “Think you can manage a cup of coffee for me and some tea for yourself?” You shot a second time, flashing him a tired and irritable look.

“Think so.” He grunted before moving to grab a couple of mugs.

You grabbed a fresh pan and placed it on the burner, turning the heat down and waiting a few minutes before cracking some fresh eggs. This man could dismantle bombs and take on multiple men in hand-to-hand, but was seemingly lost in his own kitchen.

“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, already cooking some sunny-side up eggs for yourself.

“D'innit matter.” Simon said as he worked away to prepare some drinks.

You shrugged and cracked some more eggs into the pan. Sunny-side up all around.

“Why are you so damn stubborn, Si?” You asked, tying to mask the sadness in your voice. You knew why, it was easy to figure out with a man like Simon Riley, but a part of you wanted to hear it from him.

“Don't need anyone to take care of me. Been takin' care of myself long enough.” His voice betrayed his words and you were, of course, unconvinced of his statement.

“Well... I'm here to help while you recover. I already agreed to do the cooking and cleaning while you caught up on paperwork – which was generous of Price to allow – and getting yourself back in shape for deployment.” You remind him, aiming the spatula at him.

Simon took a seat at the kitchen table as the water boiled in the kettle and simply stared at you. You were right, but it would be a cold day in hell before he said it out loud.

By the time the food was ready, Simon had a steaming mug of coffee for you and a tea for himself. You plated the eggs and sausages, as well as some toast you had made.

“Eggs... without a kitchen fire or the fire department. Enjoy.” You winked at him while buttering some toast.

“Thanks.” He mumbled into his tea.

Despite the attitude Simon had been giving you, you knew his gratitude ran deeper than he let on. He did eventually give you a small smile while he ate, which helped lighten your own mood, though you still had twenty-six days to go.

Day 10

You were sitting in the living room with Simon, tapping away at your laptop as you worked well into the evening. You'd fallen behind in your work and decided to spend some time today catching up – and you were almost done as the storm outside really began to rage.

There was a crash of thunder that startled you; Simon looked over and his chest heaved as he silently laughed at you.

“Control... S” You murmured to yourself as you saved your work. Lessons had been learned years ago about this very situation.

“Power's bound to go out soon.” Simon sighed as he closed his book – one you had bought him at the market.

No sooner had those words escaped his lips than the lights flickered.

Then again.

And then died, plunging you both into almost complete darkness, your face illuminated by the dimmed screen of your laptop. Without the sounds of appliances or the TV, you could hear the roar of wind and pattering of the rain on the windows.

“I'll get the candles.” Simon advised as he got up off the couch.

You closed the lid of your laptop and got out your phone, turning on the flashlight and following close behind him. “I'll help.” You volunteered, tossing your laptop aside and jumping from the chair.

Soon his living room was flickering with the warm light from the candles. You sat on the couch next to him silently as the storm continued outside; you'd kill for wi-fi right now.

You pulled the skull throw you had gifted Simon from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. It wasn't particularly cold, but it was comforting. You didn't have the courage to tell Simon you had a minor, teeny fear of the dark.

“Y'know... this storm reminds me of a camping trip I took when I was a bit younger.” You said, breaking the silence.

Simon simply stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Well, I stupidly dropped my compass and broke it... that should have been the first sign of things to come.” You chuckled as you recalled the memory. “Then of course the storm moved in and drenched me. I ran to cover, totally forgetting that you aren't supposed to take shelter under trees. A bolt of lightening reminded me as it struck several trees nearby.” You exhaled loudly, a smile playing on your face as you remembered just how close a call that experience was. “But because I also happen to have an overactive imagination, and was full of adrenaline and fear already, I could have sworn I saw a pale figure staring at me from the trees. It shrieked like a banshee and I damn near pissed myself. I was a Goddamn mess when I finally made my way back to my friends.” You let out an awkward laugh and looked over to Simon.

“Sounds terrifying.” Simon replied in his usual flat tone, though his eyes did dance with interest as he stared you down. “You're a brave lad to have emerged from that and carried on.”

There was no undertone of sarcasm of teasing in his tone, catching you off guard.

“You have any 'scary' stories?” You asked him, making yourself more comfortable under the throw.

“Aye..." MacTavish's influence seeped through. "...got a real spine tingling one for ya.” Simon nodded.

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. His eyes narrowed and he stared intently at you. “I was once a child.” He deadpanned.

You desperately wanted to keep your composure, but you felt the twitching of your lips as you started to crack. You let out a shaky chuckle before breaking into a full on laughing.

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you could see Simon sitting back slightly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips in the dim light of the candlelit room.

“You're such a cunt.” You tittered.

Shifting his tone, Simon cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He rumbled alongside the thunder. “...its not so terrible, having you around.” He confessed.

The earnestness of the words surprised you; an admission you could never have predicted Simon to make.

“...and no one will ever believe you if you tell them I said that.”

There is was. You rolled your eyes.

“You're tolerable.” You shurg.

Simon chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between you two in the darkness of his flat. Even if parts of him were screaming to stop opening up to you.

Day 21

You woke up groggy and confused as something slammed hard against the floor. It was coming from Simon's room and you moved as quickly as your heavy body would allow to get out of bed.

Walking down the hallway, you could hear the terrified sounds of Simon's distress. Standing at the doorway, you hesitated; your hand hovering over the door knob. Should you really go in? Simon's room was a bit off-limits since you agreed to watch over him. You had wanted to ensure he had one space to himself.

CRASH!

Something else hit the floor. You sigh and grip the door knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open cautiously.

“Simon?” You murmured through the crack in the door.

You could see Simon thrashing around in the darkness of his room, unable to wake up from the nightmare that was consuming him. He was murmuring someone's name and pleading. Pleading! Simon!

“Fuck it.” You declared, resigning yourself to whatever fate awaited you.

“Simon.” You say, giving him a firm shake. “Simon!” You say louder.

You opened the door a bit further – enough to walk through – and strode over to his bed. You leaned down close to him, and once again hesitated. You looked around to see his lamp and phone on the floor and a spilled glass of water.

Turning your attention back to Simon, you placed a hand over his damp shoulder.

Simon doesn't wake up, stuck in the depths of his terror.

You muster up the courage to do something you never thought you'd do; yell at Simon Riley.

“SIMON, WAKE THE FUCK UP!” You howl at him.

His eyes snap open and he shoots up in bed; his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, it take him a moment to orient himself.

As his eyes fall on you, and shame creeps into his eyes. You were never supposed to see this. You shouldn't be in here and he shouldn't be this weak in front of you.

You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, giving it a squeeze.

“Are you okay, Simon?” You ask in a soft, concerned voice.

He turns away from you, his chest still heaving but doesn't answer. A bit of ego, but mostly humiliation.

He shrugs your hand off of him and all you do is smile.

“Okay, okay... be that way.” You tease him as you turn to his end table. You pick up the lamp and place it back on the tabletop, then place his phone beside it. “You're safe now.” You speak tenderly to him.

You stand and give him a stare for a moment before leaving his room.

Returning a couple minutes later with a small towel, you kneel down and clean up the spilled water as Simon just sits on his bed.

“You seem calmer now.” You remark as you wad up the towel and toss it to his laundry basket.

“'M fine.” He grumbles.

Liar.

“Alright.” You nod, though he's still not looking at you.

You stand up and sit on his bed, your back to him. You take a deep breath before swivelling yourself around and laying down on the bed beside him.

“...and what are you doing?” Simon rumbles as he feels the weight of your body moving on the mattress.

“What I was asked to do. Take care of you for a month.” You reply bluntly.

You make yourself comfortable beside him, choosing a particularly plump and soft pillow to rest your head on.

“Don't need your help.” Simon protests.

“Sounds like a you problem, Si.” You fire back, pulling your phone from your PJ pocket and unlocking it. “I'm staying, as per Prices request.” You didn't explain that you'd text Price when you left and he'd given you 'orders'.

Simon sits there through seven rounds of solitaire, two crosswords, and a good twenty minutes of scrolling through socials before he finally concedes and lays down beside you. He drapes his arms over his stomach as he stretches out and relaxes; as much as Simon Riley relaxes.

“Don't wanna talk about it.”

You don't look away from your phone.

“Don't have to.” You reply.

“You don't need to know what goes on in my fucked up head because of my fucked up life and job.” He continues.

You like a particularly cute video of a puppy.

“Fair enough. We're all entitled to our secrets.” You nod.

“Did I... say anything?” Simon prods, curious and anxious.

You lower your phone a bit and look over at him. You purse your lips and think about how to respond. So far, you've never lied to Simon, and you don't exactly want to start now.

“Well?” He asks after you hesitate a little too long.

“Yes.” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“What did I say?” Simon inquires, a bit of horror framing his face.

“I thought you didn't want to talk about it?” The words come out a bit harsher than you intended, and you're already cursing yourself.

“What did I say?” He repeats with annoyance.

You let out a sigh and rest your phone on your chest.

“You were begging.” You reply. You roll your head to the side to look at him. “You were begging for forgiveness and to 'switch places' or something to that extent.” You confess to him, barely managing to choke out the words.

“Fuckin' hell...” Simon grumbles. He stares up at his ceiling. “I....”

“You have terrible taste in people.” He says in an almost teasing tone.

You don't let him finish, “You don't have to say any more, Simon. Not if you don't want to.” You explain. You reach over and tap his abdomen with the back of your hand. “I just want you to know that I don't think any less of you. Never could.”

That elicits a deep laugh from Simon as he shakes his head.

“So I'm told.” You reply, going back to your phone.

“You're really not going to leave, are you?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean? Here and now, or before the month is over? Or... ever?” You question him, resting the back of one hand on his body.

“All of the above, 'spose.” He shrugs.

“I'm not leaving. All of the above.” You reply earnestly.

You both fall into a comfortable silence as Simon considers what you've said.

After a half hour or more, Simon hears a thud. Turning to look at you, he notices you've dropped your phone on the floor and are fast asleep on his bed.

You roll over on your side and Simon lets out a low grunt, feigning annoyance – though he's not sure why – before he sighs and grabs the blanket and pulls it over you.

He rolls over so his back is to you and closes his eyes. Somehow your presence here relaxes him enough to let him get a couple hours of sleep.

Day 30

Maybe domestic life was for you after all. It had been a full month since Price had made his request and here you were; In Simon's kitchen and cooking him one last breakfast before you packed up and returned to your own flat.

Simon had spent most of the early morning in his room just laying on his bed before eventually rolling out and jumping in the shower.

As you finished preparing the large, artery-clogging breakfast of sausages, eggs, hash browns, pancakes and bacon, Simon finally emerged in gym shorts and a tank top.

“Ready to kick my arse out?” You asked, suppressing the tinge of sadness that welled inside you. You really did like being here this last month, though it was difficult to tell if he felt the same way.

Simon huffed and made his way to the table where a tea – just the way he likes it – and took a seat, staring at the back of your head.

He took a sip and thought it over for a moment. “Y've been a goddamn nag.” He finally said, a smile on his face.

“All a part of the job!” You fired back, turning to give him a wide grin.

“Still no idea how Price talked you into it.” Simon mused, looking away.

You pate the mountain of food for the both of you and join Simon at the table. You lean back in your chair and pick up a piece of bacon, eyeing it before taking a bite.

“Didn't take much, to be honest.” You shrug.

Simon defaulted to his usual gruff grunt, “Guess if hasn't been entirely unpleasant to have you around.” He confessed. He couldn't help but fight his own happiness.

“Someone had to make sure you didn't burn the place down.” You tease. "And we nipped that in the bud on day four."

Simon digs into the breakfast you've made for him, silently chewing away and ignoring your joke.

You sipped at your coffee and ate your breakfast as well.

This was a moment that seemed to stretch on for a while, neither of you wanting to admit how the last month truly affected you.

“Y'know...” You say, breaking the silence. “We never did see that movie.” You remind him. Through everything that's happened since Simon was injured, neither of you actually ended up dragging the other to that stupid movie.

You give a shrug. There will be plenty of time for movies.

Simon simply looked up at you and continued to eat.

“It's good.” He said, holding up a forkful of food.

You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you couldn't figure out why. It couldn't have been about the movie.

Maybe it reminded him of being stabbed? Unlikely.

Or maybe he felt... disappointed? Like he let you down?

You could just ask, but that was too easy, and you were both too stubborn to talk about it outright.

“I'll be heading out just after noon, if that's fine with you? I just need to do some work before I leave.” You practically murmur.

“'S fine.” Simon nodded.

As you finished your breakfast and placed your plate in the sink, Simon surprised you with what he said.

“How about tonight?” He asked.

You turned to look at him with a confused look on your face.

He was still sitting at the table with his phone in hand.

“The movie. Its still playing... how about tonight?” He asked again.

You nodded. “Y-yeah. Tonight works for me. What time?”

“Eleven-hundred hours. You... can stay the night again. My flat is closer to the theatre than yours.”

You were too shocked to say anything, so you just nodded again.

Staying another night.

With Simon.

You were brimming with stupid amounts of joy.

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v1x3n · 7 months

Text

v1x3n's navigation

♡ she/her ♡ requests are always open ♡ take care of yourself ♡

goth!reader x ghost ┃ bimbo!reader x price ┃ reader x toxic!ghost ┃ depressed!reader x ghost ┃ text stories

main masterlist ┃ drabbles ┃ blog rules

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

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John Price whose calloused hands are the softest they’ve ever been when they’re running over the planes of your skin. In the warm hues of the morning sun, tucked away and hidden from the world, his fingers trace the sacred lines of your flesh. He’s not even awake yet. His touch will always find you, whether he wills it to or not.

John Price whose booming voice carries the syllables of your name with such reverence. The cadence of his voice that barks orders on the field holds nothing but adoration as he speaks to you. Even if his tone is firm, there is only love.

John Price whose tired bones find solace in the gravity of your presence. Your Atlas, who comes home and buries himself in your arms, falling to his aching knees and wrapping his tired arms around your waist, bringing himself deeper into the soft skin of the softest part of you. The weight on his shoulders slowly lifting when you knock his hat off his head and card your fingers through his hair.

John Price whose sharp eyes don’t miss a thing, especially when it comes to you. He will always know you better than you know yourself. He sees you when your steps are a little slower than usual, when your shoulders slump ever so slightly, when your smile is millimeters from reaching your eyes. You don’t have to say anything, love, he’s got you. Whether it’s a freshly brewed mug of tea on your desk, a fruit with your name written on sticky note, or a kind word and a warm touch, uttered with such softness and care.

John Price who will carve out a corner of the world with your initials on it, just to keep you safe and keep you near. This man will go through hell just to keep you safe. And when you curl into him, your head pressed against his chest, your breathing even and slow and so calm, he thinks he’s found home in you as much as you have in him. He brings you closer to him, curling himself around you, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, his chest rumbling with an admonition of love.

Your John Price who has found a home in the warm spring of your adoration.

#john price x reader #captain price #Captain John Price x reader #john price #cod mwii #cod mw2 #price x reader #price cod #call of duty #mw2 2022 #cod one shot

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pricesbeltbuckle · 4 months

Note

maybe fluff with price?? anything, really (like headcanons?)

Headcannons - Price

Pairing: Price x fem! reader SFW

warnings: none, fluff

He opens every door for you no matter what. God forbid you try and open your car door he'll race out of the car and get to the door handle before your fingers even grace it especially if it's an entrance to any store he makes sure he's holding it open for you

When introduced you to the squad he made sure everyone addressed you as "Mrs.Price" even though you're not married. He says it is a "Sign of respect" but in reality, he just likes hearing you with his last name.

Now don't get me wrong, he LOVES the cowboy hat rule, and he knows it. But he just finds it cute sometimes when you steal his hat and walk around the base just wearing it.

When you show him a new outfit you just bought or a new pair of shoes his eyes light up. He loves listening to you talk about it and show him the stuff you got, he loves complimenting you.

There was definitely a time when he was yelling at the boys in the meeting room and you walked in just wanting to ask where you could get a snack and he immediately stopped everything he was doing to get you that snack.

He makes sure no one on that base yells at you, literally no one. One time Ghost raised his voice a little and Price caught him let's just say that was not a fun 10 laps Ghost ran around the base.

When Price came home late one night and he saw you were still awake waiting for him his heart melted. You ran over to him to hug him as he wrapped his arms around you and carried you to bed you guys slept so well that night.

He loves making you different dinners and watching your face as you try his different meals, about 95% of the time you love them.

He ties your shoes for you. No further explanation he just does.

When your clothes are wrinkled or dirty he does your laundry and he'll even do your dishes. He doesn't care because as long as you're taken care of he's happy.

He tries to do your hair up and sometimes even braids it. He fails every time but he loves seeing you smile about it every time.

Price has my heart:((((!!!

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greenandsorrow · 3 days

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the price for misbehaving

Your years long friend, Alastor, has to suffer for his sins by going through the rut once a year. You finally find out.

WARNINGS; friends to lovers, gn!reader with female parts, deer/doe!demon!reader, breeding kink, primal instincts, premature ejaculation, mentions of deer mating season, dry humping, penetrative sex, marking & biting, masturbation, smut with emotion, fictional man being pathetic, jealousy & possessiveness, low-key public sex

In the rut

Post rut (soon)

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hazbin hotel masterlist ❤️

Tag list; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @randomuser-89 @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimstillhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers

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whinesandwhimpers · 4 months

Text

Submissive!price x dominant!wife!reader? :)

i literally never see sub price anywhere 😭

hes always in control on the job, always stressed out, life on the line, etc so he loves coming home and being able to enter sub space where his lovely little wife is the one in control and he just has to listen and follow orders like a good boy <3

#ok ill write the one shot #i need him so bad #john price x reader #sub!price #price x reader

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ghostandsoap · 8 months

Text

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 · 3 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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yesokayiknow · 4 months

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frequent questions i keep getting on the bigeneration au(s):

-why don't ten (point five) and eleven tear each other apart/beat each other to death with hammers/eat each other

eleventh hour starts like normal, since they can't exactly leave while the tardis is redecorating, and then rory's like but how can they be here?? how can the raggedy doctors be real?? they were a game?? you made me dress up like the funny one all the time?? and ten's like sorry what. the funny one? and rory's like yeah uh [points at eleven] the funny one and the uh. um. [looks at ten] the uh. hot one. and That's How It Starts. every single interaction is an opportunity to show eleven up. does he want to beat eleven to death after they've spent longer than an hour together yes of course but good god the spite of it all. the DRAMA. the whole of leadworth knows him as The Hot Doctor. the ponds and clara ADORE ten. they love him so much. like sure he's a massive dick but compared to eleven he's the nicest guy in the world. he's incredibly suave and incredibly smooth and is capable of dressing like a normal person and literally everyone keeps commenting on it. sometimes he goes off on his own just bc the ponds throw him a party when he comes back. eleven keeps trying to get him killed and he just keeps slipping out of danger and it drives eleven up the fucking wall

-why does twelve allow eleven to travel with them

he simply does not notice him. just constant white noise. he's not clara and therefore he's insignificant. the three of them keep going on trips and then clara and twelve leave before he gets back to the tardis and it's not even on purpose they just literally forgot he was there. one time they accidentally leave him in victorian london while visiting the paternoster gang and he gets a boat to new york and ends up spending ~50 years with the ponds and when he finally gets to modern day london a century later clara's like huh you look different did you change your coat. and then hell bent happens and twelve finally throws eleven out (eleven didn't get wiped and twelve isn't gonna live with that reminder) and eleven retaliates by showing up to every single one of his lectures. the only reason he isn't dead is because missy would definitely find out about it and twelve can't deal with how incredibly smug she'd be

#doctor who #also imagine two tens in the 50th #10.5: please stop telling them i'm a zygon you're gonna get me shot #11: no ❤️#i really love the thought of the s9 three parter happening and 11 turning up with an iced latte like what did i miss #also he definitely gets left behind on skaro too. whoops aykdhsjshjs #missy's like you owe me for helping your younger self get off that planet bc fucking hell #and 12's like what are you talking abt he wasn't even there in the first place #bigeneration au(s)#they're all different timelines obviously #which is incredibly fun. a dozen aus for the price of one #doctor who spoilers

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wttcsms · 1 year

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something’s got to give ; john price

pairing john price x f!reader word count 2.9k synopsis a relationship bound to fail from the start. content contains creampie, slight breeding kink, age gap (reader is ~21/price is mid30s), slight angst, hurt/no comfort

Ruination is the act of ruining someone.

Ruination is the smell of cigar smoke clinging to his jacket, the same one that he wrapped around your shoulders a year ago when you were shivering in the rain after your father’s funeral. Ruination is him offering you the spare bedroom in his safe house; he’s barely there, anyway, so you can feel free to take care of things when he’s away. Ruination is how sometimes he comes back from missions with a defeated slump in his shoulders and a new scar, and suddenly you find yourself wanting to pay him back for his kindness.

Ruination is John Price.

John ruins you, and you think you do the same to him, but neither of you dare to admit this truth out loud. Instead, the two of you continue to play house together because the other truth of the matter is the fact that within the comfort of these four walls, it’s practically reality.

You cook for him and keep the house clean; you wash the blood off his uniform and keep his bed warm. In return, he strips you of your clothes and him, his morals, and he fucks you so good, maybe it’s making love.

The house the two of you accidentally make a home is located in a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. Each house is surrounded by a white picket fence and the laughter of children and happily married couples. Rarely do the neighbors ever see you and John together, and as you grip the sheets underneath you, you angle your head to realize he left the blinds open.

It’s the middle of the night because John refuses to come home earlier than seven in the evening, even though sometimes you know he can make it home earlier. You have a sneaking suspicion that the reason behind his nighttime arrivals has to do with the fact that the sordidness of you and him is easier to swallow with the night shielding you both from any scrutiny.

There’s a sick pleasure you get out of having the blinds to the bedroom open. You know that he must have left them like that on purpose because careful, cautious Captain Price would never make such a careless mistake. There’s a different sort of pleasure that you would much rather focus on right now, though, and it’s the kind that derives from having John forcing you to stay down as he repeatedly thrusts into your sopping wet heat.

He fucks the shape of himself into you every night he comes home; it’s no wonder why you feel like a part of him is with you, even when he’s gone, even when he’s in an entirely different continent.

One of his large hands is pressing down on the small of your back, the other gripping one side of your hips as he continues to ram into you like he owns you. (For the most part, it feels like he already does, but you don’t tell him and he pretends not to know how you feel.)

“Missed you, sweetheart.” He grunts out, and you know he must mean it because no man’s dick has ever been harder than one who’s spent weeks pent up and daydreaming about the pretty little thing waiting up for him at home.

Your face is pressed down in the sheets, and you’re already struggling to breathe because you’re no match for his insane stamina nor is conversation possible when he’s balls deep and leaving you gasping for air and for more. Words don’t need to be exchanged, though, because he can tell you missed him just as much. Why else would you be so wet that you’ve left a tiny puddle of your juices on the sheets? The feeling of your tight heat enveloping his cock, the way your slick makes the inside of your thighs shine in the moonlight, the constant wet smacks of him colliding against you — all of it proves how empty you were feeling with him gone. Poor girl.

At least he’s here now to make you feel whole again.

And you do. You feel so complete every time he thrusts into you, cock hitting you in all the pleasure points you didn’t even know existed. You whine out for him, every sound you make muffled by the sheets but he hears you, sweetheart, loud and clear. He knows you so well. He knows the feel of your walls spasming, tightening up on him, suffocating his cock and making him exert himself some more just so he can continue properly thrusting into you. You’re acting as if you don’t ever want him to leave, and as you come crashing down, crying and sobbing into the mattress as your orgasm leaves you too sensitive, John only quickens his ministrations.

He fucks you face down, ass up. It helps him hit you deeper, reach those spots that make you sing and sob so prettily for him, but really, it helps in making things less personal. If you were really his lover, truly someone important to him, he would fuck you in missionary. He would take things soft and slow for you, wring out so many orgasms because bringing you pleasure brings him pleasure, and he’d kiss you on the lips as he finishes inside of you.

The only thing he does that he wants to do is the finishing inside of you part.

He knows it’s a dangerous game. He knows the constant charges for emergency contraceptives must have his credit card company raising an eyebrow. He also knows that you love the feeling of warm cum in your pussy and the danger of his seed taking root.

He’s always on the frontlines of danger; for men like him, there is no difference between a safe house and a battlefield.

That is to say, love and war really is the same concept to him, and he treats it as such.

“Sometimes I think this house is haunted,” you tell him the morning after. Lately, John has been prolonging his stays, even daring to stay for breakfast and sometimes, when he’s feeling bolder and more selfish, he’ll even stick around for lunch.

He sips his tea, before humoring you and asking, “You saw a ghost?” What he actually means is, he’s seen far too many ghosts of fallen comrades that linger by his side when he’s fighting, and he can never tell if they’re there for support or to haunt him. The last thing he needs is more phantoms shadowing him in the comfort of this makeshift home. At this point, it feels like he’s never leaving the battlefield.

“It just makes weird noises at night when I’m alone.” You pout at him, showing your age. You were barely nineteen when your father died — the bullet marked with Pierce’s name ended up lodged in your father’s heart instead — and so maybe John taking you in was done out of pity and a sense of duty. It has since, in the last two years, spiraled into a sick sort of infidelity. He walks around toting a gun, acting as if he has the moral high ground every time he kicks an enemy into the dirt, yet he has the audacity to come back here to cheat on his code of conduct and do the most depraved things to a young woman nearly a decade his junior.

“Well, you’re not going to be alone for a while, sweetheart.”

And he leaves it at that in favor of bending you over the kitchen counter and making you cum twice before breakfast. Because your back is to him, he can’t see the blissed out smile on your face, happiness from the feel of his cum trickling down your thighs and the fact that he’s staying for once.

Falling for John might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever decided to do, but in your defense, it was never your original plan to begin with. Besides, you’re nearly twenty-two now, and your dad is dead, and you think you deserve a little grace and some room to make stupid decisions.

The truth is, you already knew moving in with John would ultimately leave you here (staying up every night, wishing for a man who simply can’t stay, even if he lies to you and himself when he says he’s trying to). Your dad has been buried long enough for him to be nothing but bones and a good memory, and you’ve been playing dumb for far too long.

There’s a thrill to being his little secret. A sick sense of pride that flutters in your tummy and your heart every time you know that he’s avoiding sharing you with his team. And it shouldn’t mean so much to you, but it does, because you don’t have a lot in the first place, so just simply taking space in someone else’s life automatically brings meaning into yours.

In his own way, you know he cares more than he wants you to know. You know that when you’re too exhausted to move your body after he’s fucked you so throughly, he tucks you into bed and makes sure you’re all nice and comfortable. He washes your body for you in the shower, running the soap over every centimeter of skin that’s exposed to him, handling you with such gentle care that there has to be love behind every motion. He cums in you.

That’s usually the only thing the two of you argue about.

In your young, pea-sized mind, having a baby with him is the key to solving all your problems. If you can’t be enough for him to stick around, maybe a child that takes after the both of you can help. It’s a sick line of thinking, and even you know that that reasoning for wanting a child is maybe the specific reason why he doesn’t want to have one with you. The fact of the matter is you’re hungering for a real life, one that isn’t just reduced to stolen moments in the middle of the night, and you think a family will give you the missing pieces you’re searching for. And John entertains the idea of having a baby with you, envisions a daughter with your bright eyes and kind smile, but he can’t bring it to reality because he’s certainly not the right man to build a family with.

“This is stupid,” you tell him, frowning at the pill in the palm of your hand. John is smart enough to watch you take down the Plan B; if he was smarter, he’d have the self-preservation to stop cumming inside you as if he wants to breed you, but he is a man, after all. He has his faults, and the trigger for them just unfortunately happens to be you.

John at least has the decency to pretend like his supervision of you taking the pill is just a coincidence rather than surveillance. Sometimes, it feels like this is what the entirety of your relationship with each other is: hiding behind flimsy lies and pretending that neither of you know the truth. If lying means staying together, though, it’s a price that both of you are far too willing to pay.

“What’s so stupid?”

“I don’t take birth control because I don’t want to, and you clearly don’t want to have a baby with me yet you keep fucking me like you do.” The bluntness of your words cut as sharp as a knife. It’s the most honest observation you two have ever shared together, and it’s this brutal honesty that catches him off guard.

He’s smart enough to read in between the lines, and he knows it’s a dig at him — that what you’re actually saying is that he’s stupid. You're right about that, at least.

He just makes a small noise from the back of his throat, and you don’t have anything else to say on the matter. Instead, you take the pill like the obedient girl you are, and you swallow it dry because you want the acrid taste of it to linger on your tongue and scratch against your throat. You want it to serve as a reminder and an unpleasant punishment for allowing yourself to be strung along by John (and for wanting to be strung along). Besides, you think to yourself, there are worse pills to swallow, like the bitter truth that this relationship between you and John isn’t going to last much longer.

John knows he’s down bad whenever Gaz has something to say about it. Gaz, who is a jokester by nature, but surprisingly more keen and observant than he would like to let on.

“Lady problems?” Gaz says, in that teasing manner of his that hides the fact that he notices his captain has been walking around with a heartbroken expression.

Gaz knows about you. Well, he has suspicions that you exist, and for him, that’s enough proof. His intuition is usually right, and judging by the look Price gives him, he knows he’s right.

“What makes you say that?” John should really be telling him to rest up because it’s been a long night, but he knows Gaz won’t listen, and he also knows that maybe he does need some help on figuring out whatever the fuck is going on with you two.

“You look like my dad every time mum makes him sleep on the couch.” The look Gaz is describing is a man in immense pain paired with a freshly-kicked puppy dog’s eyes and pout. John feels like he’s been banished to the proverbial couch; after the whole entire Plan B fiasco, you haven’t been speaking to him. The cold shoulder treatment has been a long time coming, but it hurts more than he expected.

“Whatever happened,” Gaz continues. “You should probably just apologize.”

Gaz doesn’t ask about you. He doesn’t even get confirmation that it really is lady problems that are troubling Price, but John thinks he’s losing his touch if both you and Gaz — two young people reckless enough to get caught up in Hurricane Price — are able to see through him so easily.

“It’s not that simple.” John tells him, and Gaz shrugs.

“It never is, sir.”

A small part of you gets off on ignoring John. It gives you a tiny semblance of power, as if you have some sort of control in this relationship of yours, but you know this reasoning and this feeling only stems from anger.

You’re angry that he hides you away, and angry that he feels like you’re something that needs to be a secret. You’re angry that you allow yourself to be treated like the other woman even when there is no woman for you to fight for his affections with, and you’re angry that you love him, even during the moments where you swear you’re going to leave him but never follow through.

The reason why his arrivals back home are always a surprise is because he doesn’t bother calling you when he’s on his way back, even though you know there’s a secure line for him to do so. You asked him, once, why he doesn’t let you know that he’s on the way — that he’s safe.

It’ll be too dangerous. Someone might tap the line and find you.

It’s a very smart answer. Sweet enough to make you swoon, convincing enough to save you both from the truth: he wants to keep a good enough distance between you two.

Love is never the answer, you decide. Every moral of the story is how love perseveres, how it saves all, how it’s the ultimate route to happily ever after.

Love is never looking each other in the eyes during sex because you know the truth of your feelings for each other will be exposed, and it’ll hurt, just like an open wound. Love is the way he smiles at you when he thinks you’re not looking, all soft and crooked, gentle and warm. It’s a side of him you don’t get often because he thinks his love is dangerous, and maybe he’s right about that. Love is the silence that stretches between the two of you when you ask him when he’s coming back, and he tells you he doesn’t know, and you’re okay because you think you can survive long enough with just the memory of him and his hands on you.

Love is a kind of warfare, and you’re tired of fighting.

In the end, something’s got to give. He supposes he deserves this. He really did mean to apologize, but he got sent out on a mission and the timing had never been right (when has it ever?), and it’s just the fact that life seems to wear him down the older he gets.

He knows something is wrong when he steps through the door and the house is cold. There’s an emptiness that makes fear fester in his gut, and he knows better than to call out for you because no matter what, every time he comes home, he knows you’re already waiting for him.

(That’s the type of love that can’t be forced, the type of love he’s spent too much time pretending he doesn’t need, doesn’t crave.)

The note you’ve left him says enough, even though he keeps rereading it over and over again, as if more lines will appear. He wants there to be a secret code hidden in the message, but you’ve made yourself clear:

John,

I can’t do this anymore. Please don’t come looking for me.

#john price x reader #john price x you #one shot #drabble #angst #smut #lemon #imagine #cod x reader #john price mw2 #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #john price smut

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