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#captain price fluff
bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
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The Whole Bakery
Prompt: How will the boys respond to an S/O who slaps their ass out of nowhere? [Requested by @airghostlyfox]
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
Warnings: expletives; lightly suggestive content
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There he was. Making his morning cup of coffee. Comfortable sleep clothes and sluggish movement. Your handsome partner. 
He had finally freed himself from the blanket web and your comfortable arms, with the intent to go through most of his “honey-do” list that weekend.
And he was so unaware.
That your arm was winding up for a powerful smack to his ass.
John Price
The sound was not as impressive due to his sweatpants, but the way he jerked and slowly put down the things in his hands was reward enough. He did not appreciate it. And he did not turn around.
“Luv,” he said in an even tone. “What the hell was that?”
You rubbed the offended cheek with the same hand, deciding against pinching, as he would win any fight you started. 
“My darling John. Your ass is just so wonderful, I can’t help myself.” 
Both hands gently squeezed his ass. And you pressed an apologetic kiss between his bare shoulder blades.
“You’ve got the whole bakery right here, bubba.” Gentle pats. Still no movement of his neck. “All these buns.”
Finally, he turned around.
He was trying very hard not to smile. Trying not to encourage you. But goddamn, did you look pleased with yourself. Strong arms wrapped around your middle, pressing you to his chest.
“You are-” Kiss. “Such a flirt.” Kiss. “And absolutely shameless.”
You kissed him back and lazily threw your arms over his shoulders.
Behind you, his arm raised itself and smacked your ass as hard as he possibly could. You folded into him with a yelp.
“GOD FUCKIN–!”
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Simon Riley
The moment your hand left his cheek, he had turned on you and grabbed you under the armpits.
“Uh oh” was all you had the chance to say before he dragged you off to the nearest wall. He was smiling, but it was the smile that meant you were still in trouble. You chuckled nervously as he settled you against the wall, caging you in and leaning in close.
“You are a cheeky one,” he purred.
“Yessir.”
“Any particular reason we’re playful this morning?”
You wriggled your arms out of his grip, and settled your hands over his ass again. He let you, one of his fingers tapping your nose.
“Well, if you must know, Simon,” you said, adopting a matter-of-fact tone. “It is because your ass is just so delicious looking.”
He snorted at your blunt words and hid his eyes with his hand.
“Bloody hell.”
“I mean, just look at it, lover.” You firmly gripped his ass, squeezing ever so slightly. “All this cake.”
He sighed, but he was still laughing. You’re adorable. He loves you.
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Kyle Garrick
You didn’t smack too, too hard. A peace offering for walking around in his boxers and nothing else. Your favorite outfit on him.
But he still jumped and gave you a dirty look.
“It is 8 in the morning, you shit.”
You turned him back around and massaged his ass, humming a cheerful tune. “I’m just gonna knead this yummy dough, don’t mind me.”
“You a cat? Making biscuits?”
You giggled and kissed the back of his neck.
“Oh, have you got some biscuits on you, loverboy.”
He couldn’t help but laugh into his cup, turning himself around and pulling you into his embrace. Soft, coffee-flavored kisses. Then his arms snaking lower, and his own hands settling on your ass.
“I think that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”
“Sweeter than ‘I love you’?”
He squeezed your ass and pulled you impossibly closer to him.
“Mm,” he sighed into your mouth. “Tied for first.”
You pulled back and narrowed your eyes.
“What? Oh, right. I love you, too, baby.”
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Johnny MacTavish
Of all the boys, he has no right to complain. A chronic ass-slapper. Repeat offender groper. Can’t sleep without one hand one you, be it your arm, your stomach, or your leg.
He was singing some song to himself, dancing a little. Background noise that kept him from hearing you until it was too late.
“Steaming bloody-”
You hit him too hard. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. You ducked out of his grasp and started pleading for forgiveness.
“Baby, I’m sorry, that was harder than I meant. I’m sorry. I’m sor- shit.”
A mad scramble around the kitchen island. Never had you run away from your bare-chested Scotsman so quickly.
“Get your arse back here!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Fuck you mean-” He vaulted over the island and you screamed. Like a bird of prey, he grabbed you and dragged you to the couch, falling on top of you with all his weight.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you wheezed.
He smothered your face and neck in kisses, and accepted your apology. He would get you back later. With less force but greater number of ass slaps. You were sure of it.
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Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)
Posted: 2023 Dec 12
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faith369 · 3 months
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Just imagine calling Price daddy as a joke but it kinda backfires
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!reader
Warnings: p in v, mdni, nsfw, condescending (slight), daddy kink
Price, who glared your way the second he heard you calling him daddy, shaking his head slightly but writing it off as a one time joke, while trying to ignore the twitching inside his pants. He is however quick to realize that it is not a one time event and has to take a deep breath as you walk around with a grin plastered on your face every time you use his now least favorite nickname. He isnt even that old.
Price, who walks around with a raging boner in his pants while on base, thinking about you moaning the word he dismays so much, while stuffing your pussy.
Price, who gets fed up and bends you over the counter after you use the nickname again. Grinding his clothed bulge against your dripping cunt after he pulled down your pants. His voice sounds gruff behind you.
"Not as confident now, huh? My poor baby can't even talk anymore. Hmm, don't worry, daddy's going to take care of you"
You whine, wanting more friction, and John eagerly gives in, freeing his leaking cock from his jeans ramming it into your tight heat while his hands slip under your shirt, groping your breasts.
"Come on, be good say it again; then I'll help you."
The second he hears the word out of your mouth, he starts pounding into you, drawing moans from you. He ignores any pleas to slow down out of overstimulation and instead lets one of his hands move to your clit, making you clench around him.
Price, who pulls out, not letting you reach your orgasm, leaves your aching cunt empty except for his cum.
"Stop whining, that's what happens when you're a naughty girl"
A/N: Im bacccckkk big sorry for nor writing I was kinda in a slump anyways requests are open and happy to be answered <333
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
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What Are We (3 of 4)
John Price x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): light angst, soft!Price, heavy suggestive themes, canon-typical swearing
Word Count: 978
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
Not interested in playing games, Price makes it clear what he wants.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // what are we masterlist
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“Are we doing this or no, love?”
You glance up from your morning tea, surprised. “What?”
John crosses his arm and leans against the edge of the counter. He’s only wearing sweatpants, and his bare chest is distracting. He might be older, but John is just as strong as the younger men that work under him. Those large arms of his are all corded muscle and protruding vein. His chest and stomach have a thickness to them that speaks to more than simply going to the gym.
“Us,” he replies. “What are we? What are we doing?” He sounds slightly huffy. Not angry, just impatient. In need of an answer.
You swallow down the burning liquid and nearly grimace from the heat. “I—what do you mean?”
One eyebrow rises, almost in chastisement. Which is fair since you know what John is pushing back about even as you feign innocence. Right now, you don’t want to face the reality. What you and John have is so peaceful that pushing it forward—or back—might disrupt the quiet, shattering it all like smashed glass.
John sighs, and reaches out, placing his large palm over the mouth of your tea mug. His fingers grip it, and you know to let it go, to release your hold. John sets the mug down on the counter next to him.
Spreading his legs, John uncrosses his arms, holding them out in front of him. “Come here,” he murmurs, and the tone is so soft and inviting that you immediately comply, entering his arms like melted butter over toast.
Fuck, he’s warm. A furnace.
You wrap your arms around his middle, and John does the same, tucking you against his body. “We live together,” he says.
“Yes.”
“We sleep in the same bed.”
You nod. “That we do.”
The corner of his mouth twitches with amusement. “I’ve met your bloody parents.”
“What’s your point?” you ask, haughty and stubborn.
Price’s hand drops lower. Squeezes. The power behind it forces you further against him, and you feel everything, especially the hardness that hasn’t appeared to abate since the morning’s quickie.
“My point, is that we need to call this what is it.”
Shit. This is it. You’re going to have to face the reality of this and look it in the face. You and Price are not simply friends. You are not even friends with benefits or a uncomplicated fling. This is real. Truly and utterly real and yet you keep denying what sits in front of you.
You and John are a couple. That is what this is.
He has met your parents. He has met your friends. You know his coworkers—at least the ones he trusts enough to share your existence with. The two of you talk about the future together, never pivoting away from the possibility of separation.
Everything happens together. Everything.
So why keep denying it?
“I’m not looking to play games, love.” John reaches up and slides his hand to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your throat. “With my career, I need stability when I come home.” He hugs you closer. “I want you as my wife. Little versions of us running around.”
He closes the distance, lightly pressing his lips to yours. With the hold on your throat, John is a bit possessive with it, a little rough in the way he holds you. It’s such a contrast to how his lips caress your skin, tasting softly.
John releases your lips, pulling back just enough to stare into your eyes. “If you don’t want these things, you tell me now.” The husky drop in his voice sends a shiver straight to your core, makes you slick between the thighs.
Returning to your lips, John’s pressure increases, becomes slightly desperate. Slightly choking with his need to get his point across. You need to make a decision. You need to tell John what you want.
Because, you do want him. You crave him every second of every day. But this is a massive step, and John’s life is an unpredictable assortment of missing time and extended absences. The stability John desires is something you are more than willing to give, but you also don’t want to carry that burden all on your own.
“What happens when you’re not here, John?” you ask, once he’s ceased kissing you. “And even when you are, am I to take up the mental load?”
There are times when you will need to give more, or John might have to, but you don’t want to be left to do it all yourself. John’s job is difficult. It can be traumatizing and stressful, but you need to know if he’ll be present when he returns.
You don’t need to elaborate. You don’t need to explain. John already knows. He understands.
“Coming home to you in between is the happiest I’ve ever been. I just want you here. Everything else is negotiable.”
You smile against his mouth. “I thought you said you wanted little versions of us running around?”
John shrugs. “I do. If you don’t, that’s fine.” Both hands fall away from your body to firmly squeeze your ass. “But I will fuck you like we’re trying.”
“John!” you rear back and playfully smack his chest.
He nuzzles your neck and inhales, drawing you right back into him. “We can go try right now.” John lightly presses his pelvis against you and you smile as his desire creates a pressure between your bodies.
“We don’t have anything planned today,” you murmur.
John squeezes harder. “Exactly, love. We have the whole day.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glassgulls @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @kittytiddywinks @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project
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sexydoffyman · 21 days
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Weird request but how would TF141+König and Alejandro react to meeting an orphan around 15 years of age who's like extremely talented in engineering, mathematics and physics, like they could build a rocket if they had the materials ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It can be HC, whatever you want! I was thinking maybe said orphan got in trouble with the government for unknowingly building some sort of weapon, maybe it was stolen? Twist that however you wish.
Just ignore this ask if you wanna <3
A KID?
genre: action
characters: König, Simon Riley, John MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick
A/n: expect a lot more mistakes. Also thinking this needs a second part.
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It’s been 6 years now since the war began. You were left stranded. All by yourself. Left on your own by everyone. Living was hard, but you pulled through. You learned how to do a lot of shit since you were there only with yourself for some time. Building stuff. That was your biggest interest.
You were constantly making things. New weapons mostly. You were always moving, never staying in one place for too long. You got brutal throughout the years you were alone. You took the uniform of a dead soldier. To blend in. You were mistaken for a recruit and pulled inside a helicopter by a military dude.
The military was a great provider of food and healthcare. So you just went along with everything they threw at you. Your knowledge of building shit helped out a lot. And even when some dude figured out you were a kid he let you stay.
The same dude put you in a task force with a man he trusted. You were cautious of everyone in there, but at least you had some people who you could trust a bit.
You picked up how things work from the years of pretending to be a soldier. Pretending to be an adult was getting easier and the task force you were assigned to found a place in your heart.
“There’s gotta be a way.” You finally snapped out of thinking about life before the war. You thought that the military would be a great cover. But now all your hope of making it out alive hit zero. You were stuck and with gas slowly filling the room that you and the others were in you knew your chances of survival were low.
You sat in the corner of the room. You had given up a few minutes ago already. The others were still trying to figure something out.
Suddently you felt something inside of you snap. You were not gonna die today. It must’ve been the panicking of the rough men infront of you that made you have that feeling. You started to search for a solution.
You found a small vent. It was too small to fit a grown man in, but you were not a grown man. You took off your gear and crawled into the vent unnoticed by your team.
You finally got to use the skills you gained. You crawled through the vent and dropped down from the ceiling right on the other side of a door that the rest of your team was trying to open. You managed to get inside some kind of an electrical system. You cut some wires and reconnected some other ones. The door opened with a space in between the doors just a centimeter big.
Grabbing a metal piece from the electrical you prayed the door open. You were met with the looks of your crew. You looked down and put your hand above your forehead to block your face. By now all of them realized that you weren't of age.
You ran into the room to grab your gear while your team gave each other a disgusted glance. “We need to get out of here ASAP,” you said as you walked away from the room. Price grabbed you by the shoulder to stop you. You turned to him with your mask on now.
“How old are you?” he was looking at you worriedly while he said that. You didn’t know what to answer and so after a few stutters you answered “Classified” This only made them feel more curious.
It has been days since that mission and nobody brought up the fact that you were a kid. You did notice that Price stopped shouting orders at you and started just saying them in a normal calm tone. Soap was making more small talk with you than usual. Ghost was staying closer to you, knowing you might not be able to fend off an enemy. Gaz was making sure to double-check your gear.
When you teamed up with Mexican special forces and met Alejandro you were given tasks that you’d be on with multiple people.
When you were stranded from the team, finding your way to a spot they could locate you at, you met another dude. Austrian and huge. Big dude. He was your enemy, but it didn’t take him long to find out that an adult dude would have a little more strength than you did. He forced your mask off and found out that you were in fact a kid.
Instead of killing you, he spared you. Helping you locate your tram instead of them having to look for you.
Would you survive the next missions? That you don’t know. But you do know that you don’t have to worry about pretending to be an adult.
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aphrodisiaxcunt · 16 days
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Captain Price headcanons
Both personal and (more of) relationship with reader
Content: a little bit of nsfw, fluff, silly goofy, headcanons
Price! Who makes the most vile dad noises every morning. Coughs and all.
Price! Who dislikes chocolate ice cream because it's too bland, his favourite is pistachio.
Price! Who says he hates cats but every time he sees a cat out on the street he'll squat to pet it.
Price! Who tried quitting smoking cigars by changing to cigarettes. He lasted 2 days.
Price! Who once out of old routine shaved his beard, he scared the shit out of Gaz.
Price! Who swears up and down he's not good with kids, but every kid he meets LOVES HIM. Hugging his knees and laughing at his facial hair
Price! Who was convinced he'd only have his work and would never find a lover..until you came into his life.
John! Who was taken aback when you came up and flirted with him at a bar.
John! Who came home with you that night, he swore it was just to make sure you were safe, but somehow he ended up in your bed..
John! Who ate you out better than any of your exes before, seemingly not getting tired and only stopping when you pulled on his hair and asked him to kiss you.
John! Who made your legs tighten around his waist when you came, you had to hold onto his shoulders for support.
John! Who let you ride him for the second round when you asked, he's not usually the one to be laying down, but for you, he was. Guiding your body at your waist.
John! Who held you through the night and kissed your shoulders and back until you fell asleep.
John! Who woke you up by brushing his fingers through your hair and kissing your neck, his facial hair tickling your sensitive skin.
John! Who happily swapped numbers with you during breakfast, not being able to take his eyes off of you when you focused on writing your number correctly in his phone.
John! Who takes you out where ever you have even slightly mentioned you like or would like to try.
John! Who starts stammering and stuttering when you ask how you look or if an outfit makes you look fat.
John! Who wears an apron when he cooks for your date night. He burns the food.
John! Who keeps a picture of you in his wallet or his hat, he's never afraid to show it off if someone asks.
°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°
Sorry I've been a lil inactivee..I have long ass work days so I literally don't have time to write <3 A little headcanon filler never hurt anyone, bye babies MWWWAH
Xoxo
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honestlyhiswife · 3 months
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i feel like one of the things you could do as TF141’s partner to truly scare them is start cooking or baking.
just pure fluff about the tf141 and reader who loves to bake below!!
With Gaz, he’s fucking terrified. Where in the hell did you learn how to chop with such precision?? WHY DO YOU STARE HIM DOWN WHEN YOU CHOP EGGPLANTS?? Nevertheless, whatever ingredient you ask to buy him, he’s buying it immediately (he doesn’t want to be a part of the next recipe). Nowadays, he hides away and just prepares the table and does the washing right as you’re done using the plate or cutlery.
Johnny on the other hand, he’s sending you recipes nonestop. The other day you mentioned wanting to try baking something sweet, next thing you know, your messages are just him sending you links of “Top 10 Chocolate Chip Cookie Variations For Beginners!”. Normally you’d love him for this, and you do! You coo at him for being so helpful, but, you also threaten to leave one of the cookies with small bolts inside if he sends another recipe that has “Beginner” in the title. You say that in a cute way of course!
Price, being the everloving man he is, loves spending time with you when you’re in the kitchen. What he doesn’t love, is when you turn into the Gordon Ramsay of confectionery. One time, he tried to hug you in the kitchen but what he didn’t see was that your meringue refused to form stiff peaks. Cue you turning around with haste, voice slowly raising as you try to “politely” shoo him out of the kitchen. He learnt that day to never peek in the kitchen again.
Ghost on the other hand, actually loves cooking. Initially you were surprised when he started cooking some delicious homemade meals that could rival a dish from Hell’s Kitchen. This leads to romantic date nights where you take care of the dessert and he takes care of the meals. However, one day he used up your flour to create batter for his chicken. The “date night” ended with the both of you sulking since you claimed that he sabotaged your meal so you sabotaged his by altering the proportions of the seasoning. He claimed you were trying to poison him. Afterwards though, you did make a pact to coordinate by leaving letters on the fridge, which left all the other date nights with a smooth success.
a/n: i love baking so much. but u know what pisses me off? when somebody exists in my space when baking. OR when they feel like they deserve what i baked and just fucking grab it. i have since stopped baking to manage my stress levels 🥳
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alwaysshallow · 2 months
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141 react to their partner nightly routine (shower, hair care, face/skin routine, brush teeth, retainer, etc.)?
What if the partner has the night zoomies (late night burst of energy)?
gaz absolutely loves your night routine; he got interested in it when you two moved in together and you sat in the bathroom for more than twenty minutes straight, singing your favorite song in front of the mirror. he observed the process at first, but then got into it.
if he's not deployed, he does it with you; he even has his own products and all, you taught him well. insists on helping you with massaging etc....... since he adores how his hands feel after massaging it for you. if it comes to night zoomies, i feel he's trying everything to tire you lmao. or he just straight up does whatever you want!!!
ghost..... he's not that into night routines, no. it's good to observe you, you always manage to make him smile, but he's not into the skincare, haircare. this man uses 3-in-1 shampoo or your olaplex if you're gonna leave it because his hair smells nice after that lmao. but he always observes you, it makes him calm. if he has time when he's deployed, he definitely calls you on video so he can watch and hear about your day.
night zoomies...... the only answer is wrestling. he's a tired man, tries to have you around all the time when he can; he can't be bothered, really. he pins you down or allows you to pin him and fuck around a little because you're just adorable when you have too much energy.
price and a night routine.......... not into skincare, but more into haircare?? like, you once showed him how fluffy his hair can be and he didn't look back ever since. it applies also to his beard btw, he loves trying things and making you watch it (he's very proud.) skincare only when he's tired after deployment and thinks he looks the worst. week later, he's back to only haircare.
reaction to night zoomies.... he's similar to simon, can't be bothered, but if you want to do something, he's more than okay with that. or if you just need to ramble about your day, or maybe wrestle. or you can fuck and ride him.
soap and night routine oh my god. he's like a five year old mixing all the products and complaining about it after when it stings. he doesn't even read the labels, he does it for fun and thinks that the order doesn't really matter (it does). he's literally into anything you are at this point, following you around like a puppy.
if you have night zoomies, he's literally your soulmate lmao because this man is insufferable. suddenly, the world is his oyster and he can do anything he wants; at least, in his mind. in reality, after fucking around and scaring the neighbors (his favorite thing to do), he sleeps like a log.
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ghostlywhiskey · 3 months
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could you maybe do hehe aftercare/ the morning after with john!
john's alarm without fail, whether it was a weekday or weekend, rang through the room at 6am.
your body curled in a fetal position on your side of the bed, blankets held close to your chest as you nuzzled your pillow. the alarm waking you up, but your brain reminding you to keep your eyes closed because it wasn't for you.
except after two rings out, the sound quickly was quieted and the mattress gained more weight on your side of the bed. one hand grabbing your bicep gently to urge you to unravel from your position and lay flat on your back. eyes still closed, you obliged with what you knew price wanted you to do, except your brain didn't need to tell you to do it; john price had your body responding to him on its own accord, regardless the context.
the hand that had grabbed your bicep now made its way past your upper body until it cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.
"c'mon, open those eyes."
eyes fluttering open, you adjusted to the dim morning sunlight breaking past a few slits in the curtains. john's face being the first thing you see was a gentle reminder to your fogged morning brain that he was home and you weren't waking up a from a dream.
"i hate your alarm," you mumbled, one hand reaching up to rest on the back of his head and tug him down for a kiss. the soft chuckle that exits his body is stopped by the both of your lips meeting and a soft hum now vibrating against yours.
when he pulls away, he watches as you register the disconnect and open your eyes to look at him.
"you're right, m'sorry," his body comfortably adjusting next to yours, moving slightly down so his face is aligned with your neck. tugging you closer, his arm drapes over your body and hid face now nuzzling the the space between your shoulder and head. the scratching of his beard against your skin causes goosebumps. "should have let you rest," now his lips against your skin the reason the goosebumps lingered.
"forgive you," you quickly say before a yawn pulls itself out of your body, your arm snaking around to scratch at the back of his head.
"y'know how loud you were last night?"
"john."
"sounded real pretty for me," he murmurs against your skin while he takes a break from placing light kisses. "you make me a mess of a man, y'know that?" his arm draped over your body tugs you even closer, if it was even possible to get closer than you already were.
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elexaria · 3 months
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price is almost 40, hes come to terms with living a life that means he cant commit easily. he’s devoted to his job, it’s all he’s ever cared about. when he sees happy families in public, it doesn’t bother him. maybe in another life, that could have been his.
but then he meets someone, and it’s like all hes ever known is turned upside down. suddenly, he’s actually thinking about the what ifs, he’s actually living not just for work, but for the love of his life. he’s never felt home in a person before, and if this is what love is, fucking hell hes wasted so much time living without it.
and then it hits him like a freight train. suddenly, that’s all he sees. families, everywhere. small chubby hands grasping at their father’s hands, the sound of cherubic giggles. and that’s all he can think of.
and perhaps in this life, he was actually meant to have a family.
you two had been together for almost half a decade now, and lived comfortably. price stands behind you, buff arms wrapping around your waist as he draws you flush against him, his lips pressing gently against the hollow of your neck. he soaks in every inch of you before he’s deployed again, perhaps out of fear he’ll never get the chance to.
and when his hands uncurl against your slightly rounded stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder so he can watch him gently rub your little bump, he lets out a rumbling chuckle. “never thought i’d get the chance to be a father. ‘specially with the love of my life.” he says in a hushed voice, eyes closing as he simply breathes in the moment that soothes his weary soul.
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maryangelex · 7 months
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Never Let Me Go
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Captain John Price x f!Reader
Part 2 here
Summary: You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you.
WC: 3,352
Warnings: fluff, smut in other chapters, cheesy coffee shop au, inaccuracies, soft!price, barista!reader, some reader descriptions, slow romance, pet names, meet-cute.
A/N: Remember that Price series I mentioned? Here ya go!!! Each chapter will be the title of a song I feel is related to it or that I was listening to while writing it hehe so make sure to check that out ;) I'm planning for 6 chapters but there might be more. Smut will happen eventually, of course!
The song for Chapter 1 is I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen, but also the covers of it by Awolnation and Gus Dapperton.
Happy reading!!
Dawn was breaking through the clouds. The waking sun broke through grey clouds that poured a steady, incessant shower of rain; the contrast of the glimmering rays against the somber clouds painted a watercolor sky. 
You walked down the cobblestone street, the heel of your shoes clinking with every stride as you walked into the coffeehouse at a speedy pace. It was the middle of autumn, the weather was tepid and chilly. You worked at Roasts & Poets, a hybrid of a cafe and a bookstore that your sweet aunt had left your favorite cousin, and she had been gracious enough to let you run it alongside her. 
Every morning was the same, and you wouldn't change a thing about it. You arrived at the crack of dawn to open the cafe, you were alone until your cousin arrived much later; you had always been more diligent and work-oriented than her when it came to running the cafe. You went through the whole process of the opening shift: setting the chairs and tables, stocking the sugars and napkins, picking up your cousin's slack from yesterday's closing shift, and setting out the freshly baked pastries. 
That's how you start your day every day. Your life was simple yet rewarding. Alone behind the counter, you took in the sight of the deserted shop, the smell of the books on their shelves collecting dust hitting your nostrils while sleep was still weighing down your eyes. The stillness and silence of the shop every morning made you content and warm. 
About half an hour later, your cousin arrived. The energy in her contrasted your mellowness. The minute she walked through the door, the sound of her cheery greeting and of the edge of the door's swing knocking the bell atop it sparked you awake. You gave her a wide smile as she stormed in, the rays of sun being her spotlight. 
"Morning, cuz," she beamed, you returned the greeting mid-yawn, followed by you letting out a loud sigh. She set her coat on the hooks next to the door beside yours -- you two had set those there as a cozy detail for your customers. 
"I had the best night last night," she started, walking towards you behind the counter and tying an apron around her waist the same as you. "Remember that guy I told you about?" 
"The Birmingham one?" you scoffed, remembering the drunken night when your cousin could not stop rambling about the bloke from Birmingham who stood her up.
"No," she rolled her eyes, "the hot one my friend set me up with!" 
You vaguely recalled, giving her an affirmative nod as your eyes drifted up, trying to remember the details of her extensive, messy love life. The two of you had been close and very similar since you were kids, but what stood out between you was how much of a hopeless romantic she was. You were more reserved about it; even though you knew it sounded cliche, you had decided long ago that the right man for you would come to you one day. Your knight in shining armor, your prince charming, perhaps. So you'd rather wait passively for that moment rather than how your cousin approached men head-on. 
You listened to her fawning over her most recent rendezvous with her new suitor, amused and enjoying her experience vicariously. 
As the day progressed, you welcomed and attended more patrons. You and your cousin took turns between taking orders and ringing up anyone who purchased books. There were a few regulars who came in every morning for a quiet space to work in, and others who just liked to lounge and read a book they had purchased along with a coffee in the comfy sofas you and your cousin had picked out when setting up the shop -- you had lost count of how many years ago that had been. 
When the shop was slowing down, you liked to prop your elbow on the counter, resting your chin on your hand as you people-watched. You loved the tranquility of it, thinking about each one's stories, reading them like books. 
One of the regulars was a man who always came in a burgundy knitted sweater and sat down with his laptop and headphones. He was quiet and reserved but always left you gratuitous tips; you knew his order and routine like the back of your hand. Another one was an older lady who always wore something pink, no matter what the rest of her outfit consisted of or what the occasion was. She was kind as well, but when she was feeling chatty she would sit at the counter and talk your ear off; today was a quiet day for her as she sipped her chamomille and read her novellas.   
As much as you enjoyed the peace of the shop, today was not a great day for silence for you. You hadn't gotten the best sleep last night, you had opted for binging the show you had been obsessing over and downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself. So, between your early start to the day and the light thumping of the headache you had medicated was making your eyes heavy with sleep. You couldn't wait for your shift to be over, maybe you would ask your cousin to let you lie down in the back. 
The sound of the bell as the door swung open jolted you awake for the second time today. You stood upright, fixing your posture and glancing at the door to greet the incoming customer. Your eyes captured a man you hadn't seen before around the area. He was tall with a bearded face and had a burly physique, sporting a navy blue sweater and grey coat that matched the beanie he slid off his head. You gave him a welcoming smile, not paying him much mind because of the sleep that still crept into your eyes. He returned the gesture as he made his way across the store, disappearing from your vision. 
You let out a sigh as you rubbed your knuckles into your lids. You desperately need a coffee if you want to get through the day, you thought, turning on your heels to pull yourself two shots of espresso. You poured the shots into a cup of milk you had frothed, making yourself a latte to spark some energy into you. 
As you turned back around to face the counter you were caught off guard by-- 
" 'Scuse me, miss?" a smokey voice startled you, making your body jump in place with a gasp escaping your lips. The latte in your hands splashed in your grasp at the sudden response of your body, its contents lightly spilling over your apron. 
"Shit!" you hissed, setting the cup down on the work counter behind you and grabbing the nearest rag to wipe your hands clean from any coffee that got on them. You looked up to the man across the counter, laughing at yourself in a mix of embarrassment at your clumsiness and lighthearted amusement. 
At that moment, your eyes caught onto the face of the mystery man who had recently walked in. His expression was genuinely concerned and apologetic, truly not knowing what to do with himself as he stood across the counter. 
"I'm so sorry, love, didn't mean to startle you," he stumbled over his words, "you alright?" 
His voice was raspy and deep, sultry even. You noted the details of his face: blue eyes stared back at you, surrounded by long lashes and bushy eyebrows, his pink, velvety lips slightly parted as if having more apologies to let out, his nose pointed and narrow, and his beard neat and full. He was handsome, truly, and you couldn't look away. 
"No worries!" you finally let out, a large smile on your face. "That's what these things are for!" you let out an awkward laugh, too loud to not give away the fact that you were flustered by his looks. Your hands worked the knot of the apron that tied at your waist as you spoke. 
The man let out a nervous chuckle as he watched you, still dumbfounded and itching to help in some way like he was uncomfortable with himself for just standing by.
"What can I help you with, sir?" You asked, tossing the apron in a bin under the counter, where you and your cousin kept any kitchen cloths and rags that needed to be washed after your shift. You didn't break eye contact with the man as you did, you found it impossible to when his blue eyes sucked you like the depth of an ocean. 
The man cleared his throat and fixed his posture, a nervous smile pulling at his bearded cheeks, "I was just wonderin' if y'could help me pick out a book" he pointed his thumb over his shoulders to the shelves behind him, "Any recommendations? 'M not sure where to look."  
You responded with an eager 'of course' as you circled the counter, leading him to the array of shelves. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" 
"Erm, up to your suggestion, really," he stood behind you, letting you take the lead, his eyes weighted on you. You responded with a pensive hum as your eyes scanned the shelves, hand holding your chin. You mumbled something under your breath and moved on to a different shelf. You reached for one of the books and turned back to him, handing the selection over to him. He took it from your hands.
Large hands, you observed. You hadn't realized until now how much taller the man was compared to you. You weren't a petite girl, but, this man stood tall; the way he carried himself proudly made him look even larger. 
He eyed the book, taking a moment to read the cover. He chuckled lightly to himself and glanced over to you. 
"As You Like It," he read. 
"You read it?" you asked a bit flustered, afraid you had made the wrong choice, "I recommend it to everyone." 
"I haven't, actually," he looked over to it again, "Not very well versed in Shakespeare." 
You chuckled a bit, "Well, this is a good one to get you into it." 
"I trust you," he said, a smirk on his face that made your cheeks burn. 
"It can be a bit hard to read but..." you shrugged, "It's one of my favorites." 
"I'll come to you if I need help, then." 
Your stomach fluttered at his words. Was he flirting? Maybe he's just a charming guy, nothing special. 
"Would you like anything else?" you stuttered. His gaze made you shift and adjust yourself, making you feel vulnerable to have it on you. 
"I'd like a tea to keep you company while you finish your coffee if that's alright," he flirted, his husky voice made the hairs on your arms stand up. 
You simply nodded with a smile and he followed you back to the counter. He sat on one of the stools as you stood behind the bar, he had asked you for a black tea and you steeped it for him, setting down a creamer and cup of sugar for him to add to taste. You went back to the latte you had made yourself, pouring it into ice after having let it get cold, and observed the man as subtly as you could manage. You noted he liked his tea on the sweeter side, maybe you would use that information for the next time he came around. You hoped he would. 
You watched as he took a sip from the cup, humming to himself and licking his lips as he set the cup back down. 'Good tea', he said softly as if to himself. You couldn't help but let a smile tug at the corners of your lips; something about him enjoying it was pleasant to you. 
"I'm John, by the way," he spoke up, his arms crossed on the counter. His eyes were on you again, and they were amiable and warm as they held contact with yours. You responded by telling him your name. 
"Are you new around here, John?" you reclined on the counter behind you, your coffee in one hand. 
"I am, I just moved in nearby," he took another sip from his cup. 
"What made you pick this place, if I may ask?" 
"Well, military accommodations, mainly," he cleared his throat. 
Military, you thought. No wonder he was such a large and buff man. You noticed the flexed muscles that bulged under his sweater. That sweater did them no justice, you were sure. 
"So you're a soldier?" 
"Somethin' like that, yeah," he scoffed with a smirk. You gave him a small smile as well but chose not to press any further. 
"What about the shop, what made you come in here?" 
"Seemed like a cozy place to spend the day," he gave you a once over, not very conspicuously, "the pretty barista's a bonus." 
You rolled your eyes at his comment but couldn't help the reddening of your cheeks or the growth of your smile that you tried but failed to suppress. 
At that moment, your cousin walked through the door. John's eyes didn't budge to look at the door, though, they were glued on you. She passed behind him, giving you the most excited expression you had seen on her face thus far, and mouthed something along the lines of 'He is so fit!" as she made her way to the back of the store with bags of ingredients in her hands. You scoffed at her and returned to look at John. 
"You flirt with all the baristas you find pretty, John?" 
"Only the ones that look like you," the man quipped, chuckling lightly to himself as if acknowledging how cheesy he was being. His comment made you laugh wholeheartedly, shaking your head at it.  
John finished his tea and fished into his pocket for his wallet, "I hate to leave, but... how much do I owe you, love?" 
"It's on the house," you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a cheeky look, "for being a first-time customer." 
John gave you a smile with lightly flushed cheeks himself along with a grateful nod. He left his wallet in his pocket as he stood up from his seat and dressed his head with the beanie he had come in with. 
"I'll come back 'round to tell you how the book's goin'," he signaled the book in his hand on the way out the door, "You make great company, love." 
"Likewise, John," you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from gushing at his words. You were using every atom in your body to not let yourself completely overflow with glee. 
John gave you a final look and raised his hand goodbye before exiting the shop. You returned the gesture and watched him walk away down the street until he disappeared from your line of sight. 
Once he was gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt your heart skip a beat, maybe two, or even three beats as all the blood from your body surged to your face. Your cousin came skipping giddily from the back of the store, squealing like a schoolgirl as she embraced you. You couldn't help but join her in excitement. The two of you spoke in loud whispers behind the counter.
"That man is in love with you!" 
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, he was just flirting!" 
"Don't you be ridiculous! His eyes were devouring you, idiot! He might as well have fucked--" 
You shushed her loudly and cupped your hand over her mouth, the two of you giggling. You two realized you were still on the clock, with some of the patrons shooting glances at you. It made you both adjust and compose yourselves as best you could, but shot each other knowing looks as you returned to work, cleaning dirty dishes and whatnot. 
"So what's his name?" she asked. 
"John, he just moved around here-- says he's in the military." 
"Agh, hot!" she sang the last word. You rolled your eyes. 
"What book did you give him?" 
"As You Like It" 
"Should've given him Lady Chatterley's Lover, maybe he would've taken the hint," she laughed as you pushed her with a hand playfully. 
The rest of your shift went by uneventfully. You continued to serve more customers, tended to the regulars, and maintained the space. When it was closing time, the rays of the sun entered through the large windows, this time casting the golden glow of dusk. You mopped the floors of the shop and let yourself go deep into your thoughts. 
You thought about John, of course, studying all the details you had taken note of. The way his lashes fanned over his deep, crystal blue eyes; how much care was put into maintaining his facial hair and how soft it looked; how chiseled his nose was; how the sweetness of his smile complimented the sweetness he liked in his tea. He looked much older than you, but you didn't mind the slightest, it was a minor detail to you, if anything. You recalled how he called you pretty, and it made you blush and gave you butterflies. You really hoped he'd come back, but didn't want to disappoint yourself if he didn't.  
Once you two had finished closing, you stood outside the door with your cousin as she turned the key and locked the shop. She continued to tease you about John, making both of you laugh and making you blush with the innuendos and childish taunting she kept telling you. You bid each other farewells until tomorrow, walking your separate directions. 
You lived just a couple of blocks away from the cafe in one of the many apartments nearby. A flat you had all to yourself and you enjoyed the solitude, you had learned to be with yourself from having been your only company, besides your cousin, throughout your life. 
It made you think about the fact that it had been a while since you had liked someone. Did you like John?  The question stood out in your mind. It was definitely too early to tell, you had just met the man quite literally today, hours ago even. But you would be lying if you didn't say you felt some sort of attraction, chemistry between the two of you. Those hopes for seeing him again only grew the more you suppressed them.
But you kept telling yourself 'Don't get too excited,' because you might not see him again, after all. For now, let's simply call it a crush, it's all it was, really. Just a man you found attractive, a kind stranger you made you feel pretty and flattered momentarily, after so long of not hearing any men do so or having their attention.
John certainly gave you a lot of his attention, you thought. Those blue eyes of his. He entrapped you with them. An act as simple as being looked at by him made you feel undressed and vulnerable. 
You shook your head when you were in your flat, just standing there in a trance deep in thought. You sighed and cursed at yourself under your breath. 
You practiced your nightly routine of eating dinner by yourself, showering, dressing in your coziest pajamas, and sitting on your couch alone with either a book or a movie, and maybe a glass of something, maybe wine or a soothing tea.
And for once in your life, you hated being alone.
For once you wished there was someone to keep you company. A company as nice as John had kept you today even if it was brief. You sulked a bit on your sofa as you let that forlorn feeling take over just a little bit. 
And though as much as you loved mundanity, the feeling of having someone new and exciting disrupt your routine sparked a warmth in you. 
God, you hoped you'd see John again. 
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bagofshinyrocks · 4 months
Text
Period Comfort
Prompt: How the boys act when their S/O is on their period. [Requested by @weebumochi]
Featuring: TF141 and Los Vaqueros - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, and Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: reader menstruates, but no mention of genitalia; menstruation discomfort; nothing else i can think of, but lemme know if there's more
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John Price
Always gets you water and a fresh cup of tea once your cups looks a little low.
Finds out what meals are best for someone on their period and focuses on making those for the week.
You two would make food with beef, eggs, and fish (if you eat them); spinach, squash, and brussel sprouts. All the nutritious stuff. 
And then he would make treats for you, especially dark chocolate on almonds or walnuts. Bring you bananas, berries, figs. You felt like ancient Mesopotamian royalty. All things that were also good for you, but were more traditional period comfort food of “sweet”. 
If you really needed to eat half a family sized bag of barbeque potato chips, he would fetch them and put them in a bowl for you. No questions asked. No movement in the eyebrows. A loving smile as he asks what movie you two were going to watch.
 But for dinner, he’s making something without so much… sodium.
Does everything he can to make your period easier on you.
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Simon Riley
Doesn’t tell you that he knows you’re on your period, but that shit is on the calendar. Doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s all “oh is it that time of the month?”. So he pretends nothing is different.
He’s always so sweet to you, but he’s especially so when you’re on your period.
There are absolutely no gibes or pokes at the tender part of your heart. And whenever you’re most hormonal (which is also on the calendar), he might not tease you at all. Because one time he was a little snarky with you, and normally it would roll right off, but you were just a teensy bit too hormonal. And you got quiet. And your lip quivered. And he didn’t stop apologizing the whole day.
Any shows or movies he normally sighs about (but still sits down and watches… and gets invested in, the lying shit), there is no fussing.
“Alright, lovie, sounds good. Do you want another cuppa while I’m up?”
Need some quiet time by yourself? He has some errands to run, let him know what you want for dinner.
Just does his best to make sure you never feel crazy when you’re on your period.
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Kyle Garrick
When the worst of your period comes in, it becomes the typical night in.
The dumbest movies that you two love. Dessert eaten before dinner. Favorite takeout and all the accoutrement available. A glass of wine or some other treat beverage. Matching pajama sets.
Kyle had almost fallen asleep when you massaged a yummy-smelling hair mask into his scalp, and then pulled a ‘oh I was just resting my eyes’. And then he returned the favor, painting a luxurious facial mask on you. Making hearts on your cheeks, then spreading them out. You were fairly sure he drew boobs on your forehead, but then smeared it out and insisted you were just imagining it.
You give each other manicures, and hand feed the other food whilst their nails dried. Kissing chocolate and strawberries off each others lips and chins.
Once his hair was wrapped up, he’s all snuggled up in your arms. The heat and weight of his body against your abdomen was soothing. And the gentle snoring of the love of your life.
Everything he can to make you feel comfortable and attractive in your own skin.
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Johnny MacTavish
He gets up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run (like a fucking psycho). Once you wake up, he wants to go to the gym with you. Whether or not you work out, or just poke his butt because it’s funny, he wants you there. But not today. Your cramps, or just the general yuckiness of menstruating, makes you want to not leave the house.
So he hops on the internet, and finds the workouts, stretches, and yoga poses that would help you feel better.
The most gentle workout he’s had in his life. Stretching with the speed of tai chi, leaning against your back and chatting quietly.
Kisses wherever he can reach as you two figure out the yoga poses. Sticks his ass out as far as he can so you’ll poke it. Whistles whenever you begin a pose that’s even marginally suggestive. Waggles his eyebrows and maybe even cops a feel.
Double checks that you aren’t overexerting yourself. Stops for water (and kiss) breaks and asks how you’re feeling. What’s helping, what’s not helping? Time to stop, or keep going?
Helping with the physical and visceral symptoms so you’re more comfortable.
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Alejandro Vargas
If he can, he’s clearing the schedule for the worst day of the week. Does grocery shopping and laundry before, so there is essentially nothing to do that day when Mother Nature is curb-stomping you.
Spoils you with a long lie-in. The sun has long since come up by the time you wake up to massages and kisses.
You join him for breakfast and a quick rinse off shower, and then you two crawl right back into bed. Leaning against him as he kneads the skin and muscles of your abdomen or back, a movie or the radio as ambient noise.
Maybe you fall back asleep. Maybe you watch an entire TV show. Maybe you putter about and do some light home-making. The goal is that you are fully rested.
I bet science says that you can’t “catch up on sleep”, but it’s still nice to have a day where you sleep for most of it. Especially when it’s curled up in bed with your sweet lover. His hands on you for the entire day, closely followed by his lips.
His whole body squeezing you tight when you try to leave, and wrapping around you again once you return.
Just physically reminding you of how much he loves you.
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Rodolfo Parra
Once he sees a menstrual product wrapper in the bathroom trash can, he’s off to make the most professional grocery run you’ve ever seen.
Knows exactly which products you use, and checks which are low. Buys the right medications or products. The snacks that you love (that won’t betray you later with a stomach ache), and the little drink treat that’s for special occasions. 
You swear that he hears the crinkle of a wrapper in the bathroom and marches to the store.
Puts the groceries away while you’re finishing up the breakfast dishes and then offers you the little beverage and maybe a treat.
He guides you to the couch or back to bed, sidling up next to or behind you and kisses you deeply. Arms roaming and then settling in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Pressing against you as if you could become one.
Cuddles in the way that is most comfortable, whether you’re in his lap or laying down. Kisses you all over. Hand feeds you until you’re giggling too hard.
He never wants you to run out of the supplies you need, or feel any less sexy while menstruating. Because you are always so sexy to him.
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Posted: 2024 January 7
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faith369 · 2 months
Note
what if… what if dbf!sugardaddy!price takes readers virginity????
A/N: I am so sorry for the delay, I had so much stress the past few days, which has settled now.<333
You were nervous, not just because you were standing in front of him, expensive lingerie hugging your body, but also because you had never gone this far with anyone. You tried to just let yourself relax into the kiss, but the thought of making a fool of yourself or him finding out that you were still a virgin pulled you away from it.
"What's up with you, love? D'you want me to stop?"
He noticed, of course he did; he notices everything—the smallest shift in your posture, or your eyes, and when you lied.
"I've never, you know..." You kept your head down, scared to see a form of disdain on his face.
"Baby should have told me, want me to go slow?" His timber voice caused heat to spread through your body. The nod you gave him as an answer was enough for Price to press you into the soft mattress, his lips kissing their way from your throat to your navel, his eyes never moving from yours, not when he slid down your panties not as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your thighs to keep them down. You felt exposed, vulnerable your mind racing with unpleasant thoughts, but all of those vanished the second he laid his mouth onto your heat to latch onto your clit. You only noticed you grabbed his hair to compensate for the overwhelming feeling as you felt its softness under your fingertips.
He shoved two fingers inside you moaning at the way you hole sucked him in, the sounds that filled the room were filthy, your continuous whines and moans only slightly covering the squelching sound that clung in the room every time John moved his fingers inside of you, his tounge lapping at your clit as if he were a starving dog to the poin where u could feel the orgasm only a blink away. He stopped out of no where leaving you whining at him, only the sight of him unbuckling his pants shutting you up.
Hoovering above you, you could feel his hard length against your thigh.
"Gotta relax for me now, yeah." One of his hands came to stroke away a strand of hair that made itself on your face. He gathered some slick before positioning himself in front of your entrance.
It burned when he first started pushing the thick head of his cock into you; he didnt stop instead kissed you to distract you from the stretch. To your surprise, he didn't start moving right away and instead opted to let you get used to the feeling that could only be described as overwhelming. You felt him inside of you, nudging your cervix, filling you in a way that knocked the air out your lungs. You could feel his body over yours, the way he smelled burned into your nose, hear his breath above you it felt as if you became part of him and you wouldn't change it for anything.
You searched for hold by gripping into his arms the second he started moving. His strokes were strategical, mind-blowing. You knew there was a small chance that it only felt this way because it was your first time, but you had friends, and what they told you about having sex did not compare to this experience at all. It felt good, almost too good. You could feel yourself reaching, that sweet release every time he hit that spot again, leaving you a moaning mess.
"Yeah, that's my girl; there you go, come for me."
His timber voice rippling through your body was what made you go to a place that felt like heaven. Price didn't stop, his pace now picking up while his thumb found its way to your clit circling the swollen bud, he ignored the little yelps you let out in overstimulation only stopping once your spasming pussy became too much and filled you up.
Taglist: @fruitymoonbeams-blog @thera-daydreams @kittycawn @buckybarnessweetheart @katzarantos@mitrr @cummunistcat
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nrdmssgs · 7 months
Text
Kissing Price on the forehead
Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing König on the forehead
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At some point it hits Price. A simple idea, just two words, enough to make his life easier.
He's replaceable.
War will not be lost the minute he is gone, his squad won't stop fighting, the world won't end. Gaz will eventually grow into the best Captain out there, Soap will never stop coming up with new shenanigans, Ghost... Well, John is sure, legends around Ghosts figure will only continue to multiply. It's not, that Price will be immediately forgotten - but in some ways he'll just be replaced with a new man. And that's a good thing. Aging and moving further and further away from egocentrism, which used to make Price the key to the existence of the whole world, felt... calming. John wasn't trying to surrender, give up the fight, he just slowly, but surely broke free from anxiety. Every next deployment he took a step closer to death, and every time it felt a bit easier.
Price was somewhere deep inside his thoughts, when the entrance door of his secluded cabin creaked opening.
You enter, and thin tongues of blizzard crawl across the floor in the hallway after you, before the door slams shut. John hears you kicking off winter boots and unzipping a coat. In a few minutes, water flows from the kitchen tap and a bitter smell of rowan fills the air. Price smiles to a memory, awakened by this scent.
***
A few years ago, it was as cold outside as it is now. You brought a mug full of crimson berries that you had picked around his house.
“I swear, if you had told me earlier that you have a rowan growing here - I'd already live here."
"And here am I, an old fool plotting dates to win your interest," Price chuckles croaky and takes a pair of berries from the mug. He never actually tried a rowan berry before - always considered it non-edible. And when their viscous and unbearably bitter juice filled his mouth - Price coughs.
Your laughter echoes in every corner of the kitchen, it tickles something deep inside him. John used to suppress the feeling for years, but now, after years of denying the obvious, all the dancing around and a few innocent dates, he finally does it.
"Stop laughing, or I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine." He moves closer, completely ignoring your attempts to pull the mug away from him. Price doesn't need it - only your face not moving away, not leaning back.
Your first kiss tastes like smoke and rowan berries.
***
John presses himself to your back, warming you, his touch still sending shivers down to your core, even after these years you spent together.
"You like it here, love?" His velvety voice resonates deep inside your chest, making you melt in his hands.
You nod, not stopping washing the berries. Pale pink droplets glisten on the edges of the sink.
"Good... That's good." His beard lightly brushes against the back of your neck as Price leaves a trail of feather-light kisses. He pauses over your ear. "Because I want you to have this place, if anything happens to me."
You freeze. Of course, you know, what John's line of work looks like, what are his chances to not make it even till fifty. But what he is proposing right now is too much. It hurts even to think of such a perspective.
"No."
"Wait." Price makes you turn from the kitchen counter to him. He starts explaining, but you can't make out any sense of the words leaving his mouth. It some rubbish about you having to move on after he's gone, having this place to enjoy life, having to find someone to build a happy future with. The words stick together into a disgusting, meaningless mush, merging with the growing noise in your ears. You manage to grab onto one word. "Replaceable"
"John, stop!" You cup his face and bring it closer to yours. "Who said, you were 'replaceable'? Who said, I could ever let go of what we have, of what I feel, when I see you, or even just hear your voice. It took us both so much time to figure out our own feelings. And you say, I can replace it?"
He sighs deeply, ducks his head, hiding his face from you. The thought, John suppressed so hard, reemerging once again. For once, he wants, he needs to be a person that isn't so easily replaced. He wants to be your only one, your priority for life. He is afraid to let himself that... but he wants to be a person, you are scared to lose. This is so selfish, so ugly, he is ashamed to confess to you, that he actually has this wish.
Your lips, still cold after you came from the outside, are pressing against his forehead. Price freezes. This feels like a touch of a shooting star, crashing against his skin. One moment your lips feel chilly, the very next second his skin is burning under your touch. Maybe it's a shame, that made him blush. He doesn't care. All that's important to John now is you, crowning him with your kiss, letting him be your only one. Your irreplaceable person.
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qilinxingg · 8 months
Text
𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓
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pairing : john prince x civilian gn!reader
summary : you decide to give John a present before he goes on a mission.
warnings : fluff
word count : 1,2k
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Crocheting has been a hobby of yours since you were a child. You used to watch your grandmother do it all the time, and out of curiosity you decided to learn it too.
After a few moments of learning, crocheting became important for you. Not only because it connected you with the memories of your grandmother, but also because it became an escape from reality for you at that time.
However, it had been years since you had picked up the crochet hook, and your attempts to make something special became more and more humiliating. You felt your grandmother turn around in her coffin and rise from her eternal slumber to scold you.
You mean, what was your idea?
It all started when you had the bright idea to give your boyfriend a gift. John was once again on a mission and would be gone indefinitely, and the only thing you wanted was for him to leave with a memento of you.
Just the thought of your boyfriend's smile at the sight of your gift, straight from your hands, made your heart warm. You would make it no matter what. And you would make all the hours you spent learning to crochet worth it!
But it was your fifth try, and you couldn't finish it right. You tried everything from what you could remember to YouTube videos.
The gift you wanted to give him was a beanie, because John loved that kind of garment and because he looked so cute wearing it. You loved seeing that look on him and wished he could wear a beanie you made.
As you moved the needle one more time, you let out a sigh and plunged back into the eternal cycle that was now repeating itself for the sixth time. You were running out of time. Soon John would be here to say goodbye to you, and you would have nothing to give him.
You took a deep breath and focused once more. You would make it, no matter what.
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You have quickly put the finished beanie into the box when you hear the front door open and the familiar footsteps of your friend searching for you.
This beanie had taken more effort than you realised. You hadn't expected to need so much yarn and so much patience to make such a small piece. You longed for John to appreciate it.
You hid the box as John entered the common room, trying to hide your understanding expression. The captain raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and looked at you with amusement. "What did you do?"
"Nothing…" You replied breathlessly, giving him a shaky smile, hoping he wouldn't notice.
John was silent for a few more moments, and you could feel the sweat slowly pouring off his forehead until he finally approached you and wrapped his strong arms around your body. "Good, I've got everything ready."
You understood what he meant. It was time to say goodbye to him, and you hated it.
You let a sad smile appear on your lips, but you quickly wiped it away and replaced it with an encouraging smile. "Go on. I'll be right with you."
You gave his lips a long pull and John hummed in agreement, giving you a curious look before leaving the room. You sigh in relief and pick the box back up as you hear his footsteps moving away.
After arranging the box according to your wishes, you left the room and hid the box behind you. You made your way to the car where John was waiting for you with his arms crossed. From a distance, you watched your boyfriend.
God, until today, you didn't know how you had made him fall in love with you. John was… well, how to explain it? He could be anything. From the astute and ruthless captain who led dangerous missions, to your sweet and caring boyfriend who would do anything for you.
While you were lost in your thoughts, John's deep blue eyes collided with yours. His eyes were like sapphires: big, beautiful gems that minutely watched your every move, as if he was afraid you would break at some point.
When you finally realised that he had noticed you, you blushed and let an embarrassed smile appear on your lips. John returned the smile, and his moustache seemed to smile as well. You walked toward him and didn't stop until you were face to face.
You could see the curiosity in John's blue eyes, and that only made you more nervous. "What's it?"
"Well, why don't you see what it is?" You replied, giving him an amused smile, which increased John's curiosity even more. You handed him the box, and when he took it, you watched his reaction closely and said.
"Very well. Let's see what you've hidden, dear." Said John with a raised eyebrow, letting his lips rest on your forehead so that you could feel his facial hair lightly tickling the spot.
Then John began to open the box, and you felt your heart hammering restlessly against your chest. You hoped he liked it.
It didn't take long for the grey crocheted beanie you had worked so hard on to appear. But John remained silent, which made you more and more uneasy.
"John, what are you thinking?" you asked anxiously, swallowing hard when you got no answer.
However, it didn't take long for you to get the answer. You were grabbed by his strong arms and happy laughter. You stare at him with your amazed expression, only to be surprised by his lips enclosing yours, making you gasp and follow the movements of your boyfriend's mouth.
"God, love. Did you do this to me?" John asked as he spread several affectionate kisses on your face, making you laugh at the tickling of his facial hair.
"So, did you like it?" you asked hesitantly, letting your gaze rest on his satisfied expression.
"Of course I liked it, my dear. Do you still doubt it?" He smiled back, leaving several kisses on your lips as his calloused hands roamed around your waist.
You felt your face flush, and you slapped his hard chest, "Come on, you! Why didn't you say anything? I was worried…"
You turned your face away and crossed your arms, trying to hide the shame you once felt with false irritation. John laughed and lightly caressed your warm cheeks, leaving a kiss in apology. "I'm sorry, doll. I didn't mean to scare you. There's no way I couldn't love a gift you've given me."
You finally relented and smiled happily. "I'm glad you like it. You have no idea what a headache this has been for me, John."
"It only makes me appreciate your gift more." Said John before intertwining his fingers in his and placing a kiss on each of your fingers. "Thank you for going through all this for me, sweetheart."
"I'd go through anything for you, dear." You replied, giving him a lingering kiss on the lips.
John detached himself from you a little and put the beanie on his head so that sat perfectly on his head. "So, what you think?"
"It's perfect." You retort, proud of your work. You move closer, letting your boyfriend's body heat envelop you again.
You couldn't wait for John to return, so you could make more.
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thewulf · 21 days
Text
The Price of Protection || Captain John Price
Summary: Request -Recently I was SA. Now I wasn't R@ped. But I was peer pressured/manipulated and intoxicated to verbally consenting to things I didn't want to do. I'm not asking for it to be relived but rather comfort. Everyone always talks about feeling disgusted but I want comfort for the guilt and second thoughts... Read Rest Here
A/N: THIS ONE IS HEAVY. Please read the trigger warnings below. Thank you anon for trusting me with this. I hope you like it.
Pairing: Captain John Price x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader
Word Count: 4.8k +
TW: MENTIONS OF SA (Not outright but hints), Heavy Angst, general COD warnings.
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You had always admired your Captain for as long as you’ve known him. It wasn’t but almost three years ago now that you were assigned to Task Force 141. They were skeptical at first, as you would be too. Who was this little American girl infiltrating their ranks? This was a Task Force with the most brilliant minds and somehow you were there. Yet, you had proven yourself one of the most valuable assets to the team time and time again. You were good, great even, at your job. You could hack into anything, take over any camera you wanted, reroute rockets if you had the time allotted. You were the genius behind some of the missions that could’ve gone south fast. You were Captain Price’s secret weapon that he kept well hidden.
It took you a while to open up to the guys. But leave it to Soap to get you talking. After a year of trying your best to maintain the Ghost persona, Soap had successfully broken you down. They learned of your past, how you came to be so freakishly good with computers and hacking, where you went to school and where you grew up. You were an enigma to the team. And they grew to love you. It was slow until it wasn’t. You were an outcast until you weren’t. You found yourself laughing and bantering with John, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost time and time again. Suddenly, you were a part of the team, a true member of TF141.
Most times you would head out with the team to help them out. But sometimes you could do the job right from your home base. And this mission turned out to be one of those times. You didn’t hate that you didn’t get to go; you just felt a little left out when you stayed back. But Price always assured you it was for your safety above all else. Sometimes these missions were a little too dangerous for even you. Which of course led you to be more nervous than ever. If it was too dangerous for you, then what was it for them? Surely no walk in the park.
You walked with Price out to the chopper trying one last time. “Captain, are you sure? I can help with logistics once you get there.”
He gave you that signature soft Price smile before shaking his head softly. “I’m sure. It’s a quick in and out. No need to put you in the line of fire for it.”
“But…”
He cut you off. “I know you want to go. I really do. But it’s not worth the risk. You’re too valuable to this team.”
You let out a sigh before nodding. “I understand. Please be safe. Make sure everybody comes back in one piece.”
He gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Like we always do. We land at 0800 local time. Soap will be giving you a call then. We’ll see you soon.”
Pressing your lips together you forced a smile to him. “You better.” With a quick nod, you watched as he hopped in the chopper with the rest of the team. Soap flipped you off before the pilot ascended, leaving you in a fit of laughter, always the shit he was.
You had forgotten how much you disliked being away from the team. You felt so far, so disengaged. Even with MacTavish swearing like a sailor in your ear. You felt totally helpless but tried your best to do whatever you could for the team. The mission was successful but not without hiccup. Gaz had been shot, fortunately, it was just a small graze to the shoulder but nevertheless it reminded you of how fragile their lives were. How one misstep could take a best friend away from you. How crucial you really were to their livelihood.
The stress was getting to you tonight though. The thought of mortality was becoming too much. So, you found yourself at the bar just outside of base. What better way to bury your stresses away than to drink your worries away right with it? You weren’t usually so careless. But the worry and the helplessness got the better of you. One beer turned to two. Turned to a few shots bought by a man across the bar who was giving you the eyes. You’d seen him around base. Maybe even chatted for a brief time. But you chose to never give these men the time of day, until tonight. You knew the type and usually stayed far away. But it was a moment of weakness that got to you.
As the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, the edges of your worries dulled. For a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. It was a temporary reprieve, a fleeting sense of freedom from the constant pressure of your responsibilities. In the chatter and clinking of glasses you felt an unwanted hand on your shoulder, and you turned to see the man who had been buying you drinks. His smile was charming, but there was a hint of something predatory in his gaze. Instinctively you tensed as your senses were on high alert in your inebriated state.
You forced a polite smile, but you felt uneasy. The alcohol had clouded your judgment, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. You knew you should’ve left right then and there. Find your way back to the safety of base, but a part of you hesitated. Maybe it was the loneliness or the desire to forget, but you entertained the idea of staying just a little longer.
As the minutes ticked on, you found yourself ensnared in a web of conversation with the soldier. His words were like honeyed poison, dripping with false charm and manipulation. He seemed to know just what to say. But beneath the surface there was a darkness lurking. A predatory intent masked by the guise of friendly banter. The alcohol eventually dulled your senses, clouding your judgment as you struggled to keep up with the rapid pace of the conversation. His words became a blur as each syllable merged into the next until they lost all meaning. But still you listened captivated by the illusion of connection he wove around you.
His touch was insistent. His hands lingering where they shouldn't have been sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. You tried to pull away, to put some distance between you and this stranger who seemed to know too much about you. But he only tightened his grip, his fingers leaving marks in their wake.
As the night wore on, the line between consent and coercion blurred. Your protests drowned out by the relentless onslaught of alcohol and manipulation. You knew deep down that you didn't want this, that every fiber of your being screamed for you to escape. But you felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his expectations. And so, with a soul weighed down by guilt and shame, you surrendered to his advances. Your body moving on autopilot as you sought refuge in the temporary oblivion of physical pleasure. But even as you gave in a part of you screamed in silent agony you mourned the loss of you usual control.
In the aftermath as the harsh light of reality pierced through the haze of alcohol and regret, you were left grappling with the devastating truth of what had transpired. You had been used, manipulated, reduced to nothing more than a pawn in someone else's twisted game. The guilt threatened to consume you, gnawing at your insides as you struggled to come to terms with what had happened. You blamed yourself, berating your own weakness and naivety. Wishing you had been stronger, smarter, better able to protect yourself. But deep down you knew the truth. You were not to blame. You were a victim of his manipulation, preyed upon by someone who saw you as nothing more than a means to an end.
The next day dawned with a heavy burden that seemed to press down upon your shoulders, weighing you down with the crushing weight of guilt and shame. As the TF141 team returned from their mission, the atmosphere in the base shifted. You left the air thick with an unspoken tension that hung over the corridors.
Alone in your room, you felt as though you were drowning in a sea of despair, the walls closing in around you with every passing moment. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, leaving salty trails in their wake as you grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. Each sob that wracked your body felt like a physical manifestation of the agony that churned within you. A relentless reminder of the betrayal of your own body and the violation of your trust. Every breath was a struggle, a battle against the suffocating weight of shame that threatened to crush you beneath its relentless onslaught.
Outside your door, the sounds of laughter from Soap and Gaz only served to deepen your anguish. You could hear Price and the others talking, their footsteps echoing through the corridors as they made their way back to their quarters. But despite the familiarity of their presence, you couldn't bring yourself to face them. You couldn't bear the thought of meeting their eyes and seeing the disappointment and judgment reflected back at you. Instead, you remained sequestered in your room. You isolated yourself from the world outside as you struggled to come to terms with what had actually happened.
As the hours passed and the weight of your guilt continued to bear down on you, your phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Soap, Gaz and even Ghost. Each notification felt like a sharp jab to your already fragile psyche, a painful reminder of the concern and judgment you knew awaited you on the other end of the line. Soap's messages were filled with words of worry and encouragement, his concern evident in the way he repeatedly asked if you were okay. Gaz's messages were more subdued, but no less concerned, his terse inquiries betraying the depth of his worry for your well-being.
You ignored their messages, unable to fake it to them. Instead, you buried yourself deeper in the cocoon of your own despair, the silence of your room offering little solace in the midst of your turmoil. But as the day wore on and hunger gnawed at your stomach, you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and made your way to the cafeteria. It was late, far later than anyone else would-be getting dinner, or so you thought.
As you entered the desolate cafeteria, your heart sank at the sight of Ghost sitting alone at a table in the corner. Despite the emptiness of the room his presence felt suffocating, casting a harsh spotlight on the turmoil brewing within you. With a sigh you ignored him and walked up to serve yourself the usual dull military food. You felt Ghost's gaze boring into you. His eyes a mixture of concern and confusion as they lingered on your tear-stained face.
You filled your plate with food, your hands shaking as you struggled to maintain your composure. The weight of Ghost's scrutiny felt like a physical burden. But as you made your way past Ghost's table, you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on the floor. Your cheeks burned with shame as you tried to hide the evidence of your recent breakdown.
With a quick nod of acknowledgment, you hurried away from Ghost's table. Your steps quickening as you sought refuge in the farthest corner of the room. You found an empty table and sat down keeping your head bowed as you focused on your food, desperate to avoid any further scrutiny. But despite your best efforts, you could still feel Ghost's gaze burning into you. His concern was a palpable presence in the empty room. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every inch of your skin was laid bare for him to see. And as you picked at your food, your appetite all but forgotten in the wake of your turbulent emotions. You couldn't help but wonder how long you could keep up the charade. How long before the facade you had constructed came crashing down around you?
As Ghost approached your table, his presence a calming anchor in the midst of your turbulent emotions, he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Hey, kid," he greeted you in his trademark gruff tone, his voice carrying a note of concern beneath its rough exterior. "You alright?"
You tried to mask the evidence of your tears with a feeble attempt at a smile, but Ghost saw right through that. His keen eyes bore into yours, his gaze unwavering as he waited for your response.
"Yeah, just allergies acting up," you replied, your voice betraying the strain of your attempts to deflect his concern.
But Ghost wasn't fooled. He knew you better than that, could see the pain etched into every line of your face. With a grunt of acknowledgment, he accepted your explanation, though you could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.
"I won't push ya," he said with his gravelly voice, his tone softened by a rare display of empathy. "But if you ever wanna talk about it, I'm here." With a grateful nod, you thanked him and watched as he walked out of the room leaving you to your thoughts.
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As the morning sun filtered through the curtains you found yourself ensnared in a labyrinth of restless thoughts. Each beam of sunlight seemed to illuminate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within you, highlighting the heavy shroud of guilt that enveloped your very being. You had spent the night tossing and turning, your pillow dampened by tears that ebbed and flowed.
Just as you had managed to drift into a fitful slumber the persistent knocking at your door shattered the fragile semblance of peace you had managed to find. Each rap on the door felt like a blow to your already fragile composure jolting you awake from the fleeting respite of sleep. Groggy and disoriented you stumbled across the room, every step a struggle against the weight of exhaustion that hung heavy upon your shoulders.
With a heavy heart Captain John Price stood on the other side of the door, his hand hovering tentatively over the handle as he took in the sight before him. His breath caught in his throat, a pang of concern twisting in his chest at the sight of you. The vibrant energy that usually radiated from you had been replaced by a sadness he rarely saw from you. A shadow of your former self. His heart clenched with a mixture of empathy and apprehension as he took in your fragile state. Every instinct urged him to gather you into his arms, to shield you from the pain that etched lines of sorrow upon your face. But he held back, knowing that you needed space to unravel the tangled threads of your emotions in your own time. With a silent prayer on his lips, Price waited for you to acknowledge him.
"Captain, what are you doing here?" you greeted him with a ghost of a smile, though it failed to reach your eyes, which still held traces of the turbulent night you had endured.
Price's gaze softened at the sight of you, his concern etched into every line of his expression. "Hey love," he greeted softly, his voice carrying a gentle warmth that offered solace in the midst of your turmoil. "Missed you this morning at PT. Everything alright?"
You forced a tight-lipped smile, the effort of masking your inner turmoil nearly unbearable. Every word you spoke felt like a weight upon your chest, each syllable a struggle against the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to engulf you. "Yeah, just feeling a bit under the weather," you replied, your voice strained with the weight of the unspoken troubles that gnawed at your conscience. Price's brow furrowed deeper in concern as he studied your haggard appearance. His gaze lingered on you, searching for answers in the depths of your tired eyes, his intuition telling him that there was more to your distress than a simple case of illness.
"You sure that's all it is?" he pressed gently, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and skepticism. He had known you long enough to recognize when something weighed heavily on your mind, and the mask you wore now couldn't conceal the truth from him.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to respond. The weight of your secrets threatened to suffocate you, but you clung to the fragile facade you had constructed, unwilling to burden him with the weight of your troubles. "Yeah, just... a rough night," you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue as you forced them past the lump that lodged there.
Price had always treated you differently, with a softness he never seemed to reserve for the others. From the moment you joined Task Force 141, he recognized the weight of the horrors that came with the job.  He made it his mission to be there for you in a way that went beyond mere professional obligation. He became your confidant, your sounding board, the one person you could turn to when the darkness threatened to overwhelm you. His gentle demeanor and unwavering kindness provided a safe haven in the chaos of missions and the toll they took on your spirit.
Price's gaze softened with understanding as he reached out to gently squeeze your arm. His touch was a far cry from the man a few nights ago. He was that comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.
"You don't have to face it alone, you know," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me. You can always talk to me, love."
Indeed, Price's tenderness towards you was unmistakable. While you were every bit a soldier like the rest, he recognized that you were different. The things you witnessed and the actions you took on these missions slowly started eating away at you long ago. But Price was there offering solace and understanding. His affection for you growing deeper with each shared moment of vulnerability.
Over the three years of working together Price found himself drawn to more than just your skills and abilities. It was your spirit, your unwavering determination, and your unique personality that captivated him. At first it was subtle, just a flicker of admiration for the way you handled yourself under pressure, the way you never backed down from a challenge. But as time went on and he got to know you better, that admiration blossomed into something deeper. He found himself enchanted by the fire in your eyes when you spoke passionately about something you believed in. He admired the way you never lost your humanity, even in the midst of the darkest missions. Your compassion and empathy for others in the face of danger touched something within him that he hadn't realized was missing.
Price began to notice the small things about you, the adorable quirks that made you uniquely yourself. He found himself smiling at your jokes, laughing at your antics, and feeling a sense of peace whenever you were around. He cherished the moments when you let your guard down and allowed him to see the vulnerable side of you. He felt honored that you trusted him with your fears and insecurities.
As the years went by, Price realized that his feelings for you had evolved beyond mere admiration. He was in love with you. He loved the way you made him feel alive, the way you challenged him to be a better man, and the way you brought light into his dark world. But even as his feelings grew, Price knew that he could never act on them. Not while he was your Captain and the stakes of their missions remained so high. So, he buried his feelings deep inside. He was content to love you from afar and grateful for the opportunity to know you. Even if it meant keeping his emotions hidden.
Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were like a finely tuned unit, attuned not only to the dynamics of the battlefield but also to the subtleties of their comrades' interactions. They noticed the way Price's demeanor would shift whenever you entered the room. The slight softening of his usually stern expression, the warmth that crept into his eyes as they lingered on you, and the way his voice would adopt a gentler tone when he spoke to you. It was unmistakable to them though they never openly acknowledged it.
In their downtime when the mission chatter had quieted, and they found themselves lounging around the base, the guys would exchange knowing glances whenever Price's attention seemed to linger on you a little longer than necessary. Soap might chuckle and nudge Ghost, raising an eyebrow in silent communication that spoke volumes about Price's apparent fondness for you. Ghost, ever the silent observer, would offer a small smirk in return, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Price navigate the delicate balance between professionalism and the undeniable affection he held for you.
Gaz, always one for a bit of banter, wouldn't hesitate to make playful remarks whenever the opportunity presented itself. He'd tease Price about being extra protective of you during missions, jokingly suggesting that Price had a soft spot for you that he couldn't quite hide. Price would roll his eyes in response, brushing off Gaz's comments with a gruff retort. But the slight flush that colored his cheeks betrayed the truth behind Gaz's jests.
Despite their teasing, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz respected the unspoken boundaries that surrounded Price's feelings for you. They knew that his affection for you was genuine and deep-rooted, and they never pushed him to confront it unless he was ready. As for you, you might have been the only one oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions swirling around Price. To you he remained the steadfast leader, unwavering in his commitment to the mission and the safety of his team. His true feelings were well hidden behind a mask of professionalism and duty.
Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to find the courage to vocalize the turmoil that had been devouring you from within. The weight of your confession hung heavy upon your shoulders. Each word feeling like a jagged stone forced from your chest. "I... I had a little too much to drink while everyone was gone," you confessed, your voice barely rising above a whisper, as if you were afraid the words themselves would shatter the fragile sanctuary you had built around yourself. "And... I did things... things I didn't want to do."
As you spoke, the air in the room seemed to thicken with a suffocating sense of shame. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Price's gaze. You feared the judgment you were sure would reflect in his eyes. But when you finally summoned the courage to glance up, the expression etched on Price's face was not one of condemnation but of utmost concern. His features tightened with an intensity that mirrored the turmoil raging within him. His heart twisted with a potent blend of anger and sorrow at the thought of someone exploiting your vulnerability in such a despicable manner. But despite the roiling emotions churning beneath the surface, he remained stoically composed. He understood that now was not the time for upsetting you even further.
"Coerced..." you added, your voice trembling with shame as you unveiled the truth that had festered within you like a poison, eating away at your sense of self-worth with every passing moment. "I tried to resist, but... he wouldn't listen. He wouldn’t take no for an answer."
As the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air between you, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief wash over you. As if the simple act of vocalizing your pain had lifted a burden that had threatened to crush you. Despite the shame that threatened to consume you there was a profound sense of solace in knowing that you were no longer bearing this burden alone. That you had finally allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of the one person you trusted implicitly.
In that moment of raw honesty, you couldn't help but wonder if Price understood the depth of your feelings for him. If he could see beyond the facade you presented to the world and glimpse the tangled mess of emotions that lay hidden beneath the surface. As you spoke you couldn't deny the palpable sense of comfort that enveloped you. It was as if in allowing yourself to be vulnerable with Price you had discovered a sanctuary where judgment held no power, where acceptance reigned supreme. Captain John Price was the best of men.
And as Price listened his gaze never wavering from yours, you couldn't shake the feeling that he knew on some level the depth of your affection for him. Perhaps it was the gentleness in his touch, the understanding in his eyes, or the unwavering support he offered without hesitation. Whatever the reason, you found yourself daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. As the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air between you, you realized with startling clarity that Price was more than just a trusted confidant. He was your rock, your pillar of strength in a world filled with uncertainty and doubt. And as the realization settled deep within your heart, you couldn't help but acknowledge the truth that had been staring you in the face all along: you loved him, in a way that transcended mere friendship.
With each passing moment, the bond between you and Price grew stronger, forged in the chaos of shared experiences and unwavering support. And as you looked into his eyes seeing the reflection of your own emotions mirrored back at you, you knew without a doubt that you could tell him anything, and he would be right there for you, no matter what.
Price's grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly as you made your confession. His touch both grounding and reassuring in its strength. His resolve hardened as he fought back the surge of protectiveness that threatened to consume him. "I'm here for you," he reassured you, his voice unwavering in its conviction. "Whatever you need, I'll do everything in my power to help you through this."
As Price listened to your trembling words a whirlwind of emotions roiled within him. Anger burned hot in his chest at the thought of someone taking advantage of you. His fists clenched with the urge to seek retribution. But beneath the rage a deeper sense of sorrow welled up aching with empathy for the pain you had endured alone. "I will always be here for you," he murmured again. As the weight of your confession settled upon you both Price felt a swell of tenderness wash over him, mingling with the fierce determination that burned within him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms, to shield you from the pain that gnawed at your soul.
With a gentle hand he lifted your chin, meeting your tear-filled gaze with unwavering reassurance. His heart clenched at the sight of your vulnerability, and he couldn't help but brush away the tears that traced delicate paths down your cheeks. "You're not alone. I promise you that," he whispered, his voice infused with a quiet strength that resonated deep within you. "I'll be right here, every step of the way." And as he spoke those words you felt a sense of solace wash over you. You knew that you could lean on him, trust in him.
Against his better judgment, Price drew you into his embrace. His arms encircling you with a tenderness that concealed the strength of his resolve. He held you close as you surrendered to the flood of tears that just kept coming. "It's okay," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of your turmoil. "I've got you. You're safe now."
His heart clenched at the sight of your vulnerability. He couldn't help but brush his hand through your hair. His touch a comforting caress that made you shiver. With each stroke he hoped to ease the burden that weighed so heavily upon your shoulders.
"You're not alone love," he whispered in reassurance. His voice a quiet promise against the chaos of your emotions. "I'm here for you, always." He said once more letting you know that he wasn’t going anywhere. He continued to hold you as the tears slowly subsided. His silent grasp on you a vow to stand by your side through every trial and tribulation that may lay ahead.
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bubblesnd · 11 days
Text
CW:fluff,comfort,slight implications of smut, gn!reader
John price with a military k9 handler, dog trainer headcanons
NSFW 18+
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ 𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 18+☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
Would definitely try and win over your k9
Definitely admires your training skill
He absolutely adores your k9 buys them their favorite treats and toys
Now you have scary dog privilege x2
Straight up is proud if you guys ever get into a argument and your k9 protects you (even though he'd never hurt you)
Has to remember to lock the door when y'all are going at it because your k9 can open the door
Loves bragging to the 141 about your skills and recent successful missions
Will absolutely celebrate getting new dog sport titles with you
Loves watching you train
Lowkey doesn't know much about military dogs
Will 100% listen to you ramble on about dogs and dog stuff
Doesn't worry as much about you going out with your k9
Definitely would have his boys test your k9 every so often
Can get frustrated that the k9 won't listen to him only you
Talk about getting another dog? He surprises you will a puppy of that breed the next morning
Has no problem with you rescuing dogs on the street
Loves dogs as much as you do
Always says words of encouragement when you get unmotivated or frustrated
Loves watching you work your k9 in the field and on missions
Would never question your judgment when it came to your k9
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