#john price x you

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia Price mayhaps?

Pretty please :)

Price didn't get into business because he wanted money or because he liked power. He had enough for a small farm and a buffer period of figuring out whatever the fuck was happening in his life, even after the dishonorable discharge over a fuck up he had to cover for the higher-ups. He didn't go into illegal gun trading and organized crime for the love of the game. He had money when he was booted out of the military. It's just that his boys didn't. No money, no purpose, only a dishonorable discharge and feeling of betrayal on their backs - and yes, he understands it's a pitiful fucking excuse for starting to support the very same system he sometimes had to fight, but he does what he has to do. Ghost, Gaz and Soap needed a new goal in their lives - and something as far from being a merc as possible. Besides, after years of service to her Majesty, Price deserves a luxurious leather chair to sit on and good imported cigars to smoke. He also deserves you, a pretty little thing who is way too nice for him. You're out of his world, completely - a nice girl, a good girl. In the past, when he was still Captain Price, he might have considered picking you up with some cheesy one-liner, buying you a drink or something nice to wear, and then ghost you for forever because his job is too dangerous to allow himself connections. He would have prided himself in thinking he is keeping you safe while jerking off to some vaguely similar porn star. Well, Price is done being a selfless servant of his community. He deserves the girl, even if that means moving a bit too fast and having Ghost choke her just enough so she would fall right into John's arms and in his bed. If you're a smart girl, you would know better than to try and resist the most dangerous guy in the whole country and his henchmen. If you're a good girl, you would know just how much he is willing to give you - as long as you don't try to force him away.

[estesphantom]

Ex-Husband John Price |

John Price headcanon

reader is she/her & works as a medic. John Price might be a little (insanely obsessed) love sick over his silly ex wife. He’s Joe Goldberg.

The two of you didn’t divorce because you fell out of love, or someone cheated, or any true “marital” problems many couples would divorce for. In fact, divorcing him killed you as it did him.

Being in the military is a job that is very demanding and although you knew of that when you married, you didn’t realize how much of an effect it had on the both of you. Though it was wrong, you felt like you could have more from a man that didn’t have a job that required more attention than your marriage did to him. John told you he understood your decision and respected you. He took weeks to sign the papers, though, with an excuse of being too busy.

The truth was that he let you divorce him because he knew you wouldn’t find a man that was better molded for you than he was. He was right. Of course he was.

“Mm, and how are you holding up, love?” he inquires while you fill up a pot of coffee in the break room. His eyes peered up at yours while you took a seat across from him on the couch. You two were making small talk and it had been only a few weeks after your divorce.

John let you keep the house, the dog, everything you would ask for. You felt guilty and pleaded with him to take something, anything he hadn’t already taken (which was only his clothes and documentations) but he refused. He wanted to prove he still respected and loved you after the divorce.

“Just fine. And you?” your delicate fingers rubbed your temples as you tried to free the stress from the first half of your shift. He stared at your badge which still had ‘DR. PRICE’ printed in bold black with a picture of your kind face above it.

“Good for you,” he smiles at you kindly, the same warm, handsome smile he’d given you a hundred times before and the first smile he’d given you when pronounced husband and wife. He didn’t answer the second part of your question.

Your attempts of finding a man that had enough time for you, or even any ounce of attraction towards you was rough. It seemed as if any man at work you would approach would dodge your attempts at flirting like the plague.

Men in the military were like starved lions; desperate, needy, and impulsive. You were a very attractive, young woman, which checked all of the boxes for the dogs working in the military. Hell, before you and the Captain became a thing, you had to bring pepper spray every day to make sure none of the men tried anything.

The absence of attention made you think. Then, you thought of your ex husband. The influence he has. His love that withstood signing the divorce papers and moving out of his home for your comfort and happiness.

You remembered the way he would make you promise you would never replace him. You remembered his vow to always look out for you and to never let anything become between you two. You remembered sleeping over at his apartment for the first time and finding a collection of your belongings that you thought went missing over the past few months. You remembered fiddling with the dusty mascara, the acrylic nail that had broken off during a date, the lipstick, the panties. You loved John because of how much he’d noticed of you and how much he loved you.

So, when your shifts were over and you were scrambling to find him, you felt mistaken for the divorce in the first place. Your feet stepped quickly as you called his name. His broad shoulders turned to face you and his facial expression immediately softened. Your heart slowed.

“Can you come home with me? There’s a- my air conditioning doesn’t really work anymore,” your face blushed up immediately as you came up with a dumb excuse on the spot. You wanted to slap yourself square in the face.

John chuckled. He was amused. He crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly to the side, staying quiet for a few seconds while contemplating his next move. He uncrossed his arms and grabbed his keys out of his pocket, using his free hand to pull your smaller hand into his. He saw right through you.

“Okay, love. It’ll cost you, though,” his thumb rubbed against yours as if it were always home for him. You hummed in response as he led you out of the base’s office to the car park where you would approach his car.

As you climbed into the car, you realized there truly wasn’t anyone out there who was meant for you the way John Price was.

His love wasn’t obsession, it was gratitude.

Right?

[oceantornadoo]

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

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

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

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

that explains a lot.

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

"evenin', duckie."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"anythin' for you, duckie."

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

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

"all ok, john?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

List (Sorted by Story Content)

sorry for spamming, just want to make a list sorted by the story content. As always, tyvm for reading!! :D

Fluff

My Heart Can Sleep When I'm With You (Ghost)(F)

Daisy Dukes (Ghost)(F)

Unexpected Encounter (Ghost)(F)

Simon Got a Flu (Ghost)(GN)

Nine things Simon Riley Might Annoy (intentionally or not) His Shorter Partner (Ghost)(GN)

Sleeping (truly) with Simon (Ghost)(GN)

Domestic Life with Retired Husband!Simon (Ghost)(GN)

Simon with A Gammy Reader (Ghost)(GN)

End This Repeating Dance (Ghost)(F)

Simon Taking Care of You When You Accidentally Injured Yourself (Ghost)(F)

Simon Riley, Will You Marry Me? (Ghost)(F)

Vampire AU Headcanons (TF141+König)(GN)

Cat Café AU Headcanons 1 2 (TF141+König)

Cat Reader Headcanons (TF141+König)

In Pairs - Price Soap Gaz Ghost (GN)

What Makes You Unique (TF141)(GN)

Cream Puffs (TF1414)(GN)

Sweet Flavor of Your Lips (F)

Wild Pets: 1 1.5 (TF141)(F)

Tf141 with a Fragile Reader (TF141)(GN)

A Reader Who Sucks at Baking but Wants to Bake Them a Valentine’s Day Dessert (TF141)(F)

Gap Moe (Contradictory-Characteristic Cuteness) Reader (TF141)(GN)

Melt Down The Snow (TFT141)(GN) (🦈 Anon)

Some Thoughts about Demon!TF141 (GN)(Has Follow-up Chapters at NSFW)

No Tolerance!! (TF141)(F) (🦈 Anon)

Silly Moments between Simon and Reader (Ghost)(F)

Angst

New Year Fireworks + We Both Broke Our Promise (Ghost)(F)

Bedtime Story (Ghost)(GN)

Palette (Ghost)(F)(Half-Angst)

Ex-bf!Simon Riley*F!Reader (Ghost)(F)

Regret Devouring Me (Soap)(GN)

Voicemails (Ghost)(F)

NSFW

Bed All Day (Ghost) (GN)

Smut Challenge - Neighbor Series: Ghost (F)

Smut Challenge - Neighbor Series: Soap (F)

Spider Webs: 1 2 3 bonus chapter 1 (König)(F)

NSFW Alphabet (König)(F)

More About Demon!TF141 (F)(Anon Ask)

Demon!TF141 but Reader Becomes Demon Too (F) (Anon Ask)

Hurt and Comfort

Invincible (Ghost)

Inhale Our Sorrow, Exhale Our Future (Ghost) (GN)

Simon “Ghost” Riley*Reader with scars and hide their face (GN)

Husband!Simon with Car Crash Wife!Reader (Ghost)(F)

How To Remember? (Ghost+Price)(F)

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

His Only Asylum (Ghost+König) + Bring Me to Heaven (Ghost)(F)

Perv!Simon Riley with Yandere!Reader (Ghost)(GN)

It Isn’t Fate Bringing Us Together (It’s Me): 1 2 (Ghost)

Special

Soulmate AU - Separate Endings (Ghost)(GN)(Has different Endings)

[miguel-owhora]

thinking about price retiring and just becoming a big ol' bimbo. he's lived a life where he's had to put others first, where relaxation was a hard thing for him to wrap his head around.

so when he meets you and gets with you, he's a bit ashamed that he finds the 'bimbo life' appealing. not having to worry about any responsibilities, getting to be all pretty, it sounds nice and you're more than happy to indulge him.

he grows softer with time, wearing pretty panties and lingerie, and sending you lewd photos whenever you're busy at work. maybe he experiments with makeup, maybe he doesn't—he's still a pretty bimbo at the end of the day. a dutiful, pretty, housewife of a bimbo.

maybe he'll wear lipstick and mascara, and welcome you home with a blowjob. fuck, maybe he lets you fuck his throat until his lip is smeared and his mascara is streaking down his face.

oooh he'd get so whiny whenever you rip his panties off him to get to his pretty hole. but at the promise of you buying new and prettier panties for him, he'll quickly forget about it—it's easy to forget when he gets cockdrunk.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (4 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff

Word Count: 957

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Checking through his daughter’s backpack strikes up a difficult conversation.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist

Price has no idea where his daughter’s disorganization from, but it certainly isn’t him.

Opening her backpack, Price cringes at the mess. It’s all crushed papers, broken pencils, scattered crayons, and food wrappers. Sighing, Price turns the backpack zipper-side down, the contents crashing to the dining room table.

She is going to sit down tonight and organize this. No exceptions.

Frowning down at the wreckage, Price begins sorting through the papers, glancing at a few just to find some order in the chaos. He picks up a piece of paper and pauses, his gaze landing on the title.

All About Me reads the top of the page.

Price smiles as he starts to read over his daughter’s answers.

Favorite color? Blue.

Favorite animal? Dragon—all capital letters with lots of exclamation points.

Happiest memory? That one just says “ghostie tree.” Her teacher will have no idea what that means, but Price knows, and he laughs so hard he almost chokes.

Price’s daughter adores Simon, and whenever he’s around, she turns into a koala, hanging off every limb. It doesn’t matter if Simon is standing or sitting down. And how does Simon feel about it? He’ll act bored, like it hardly bothers him, but then he’ll strike, tickling her until she runs away screaming only for her to return minutes later to do it all over again.

Flipping it over, Price continues to read, pausing when he reaches information about parents and guardians. This is where he slows and observers her writing. She already filled stuff out about mom, and Price knows you’d get a laugh out of her answers, but the sections about him cool his amusement.

Her answers are idyllic versions of himself, nearly whimsical in the way she describes what he does and how proud she is that he is her father. That makes him ache, brings a tightness to his chest that pushes out all other feeling. Price is proud of his work, and of his career, but it is not a beautiful thing.

It is not sweet or kind or tender.

It is rough. It is hard.

It is heartbreaking.

He has lost so many people. So many good men and women. He’s done horrible things. Stained his palms with blood. These are difficult truths he faces every day.

But there are softer moments in his career of watching those he’s mentored be promoted, of victories and celebrations, of marriages and births, and of all those he’s worked with who have gone on to lead fulfilling, happy lives.

All of that, and this isn’t what stops him.

It’s her answer to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I want to be like my dad.

Price sighs and sets the paper down on the table.

How does he respond to that? Should he even take the initiative? Should he approach the topic at all?

Price isn’t certain.

“Daddy.”

Price starts at his daughter’s voice. He turns. She’s standing just inside the archway to the living room. She has a perplexed look on her face as she glances between him and the mess on the kitchen.

“What’ve you done with my backpack?”

Price blinks, and then chuckles. “It’s a mess, love. We’ve taught you better.” Her face flushes slightly as she slowly walks up to the table. “You’re sitting down and going through this. No exceptions.”

She nods sheepishly.

Price picks up the questionnaire. “Want to talk about this? I have to sign off on it.”

Her flush grows deeper. “Did you read it?”

“I did.”

She looks up at him expectantly and Price waits a moment to see if she’ll say anything. She doesn’t.

“You said some nice things about me,” he says softly, and she beams. It reminds him of your smile, and that melts his heart down to his toes.

“It’s true,” she says brightly, happy that he’s mentioned anything at all.

“You want to be like me?” She nods. “And what do I do?”

She blinks. “Didn’t you read what I wrote?”

Price barks a laugh. “Yes, love. I did. But I want to hear it from you.”

She squares her shoulders and looks up at him with fierce determination. “You protect people. I want to protect people.”

True. But not entirely.

“How do you think I protect people?” He can see her brain processing the question and attempting to formulate an answer. She chews on her bottom lip, shoulders sagging slightly.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “But I know that you do. You protect me and mom.”

“That’s because you and your mother are mine to protect.”

Protect is not the right word. While his actions and the things that he does might prevent horrible things happening at a global level, doing so often results in pain and suffering. It’s just what happens even when he tries to prevent that.

“Can I not do that?” she asks.

“You can do whatever you want when you’re older.”

But military life? No. He doesn’t wish that for her, and it’s not because she’s a girl. He’d feel the same if she has been born a son. No parent wants to see their child in potential danger. Doesn’t matter what age.

“So I can be just like you?”

He wants to say “no,” but instead diverts the question elsewhere. “You can’t be anything if you don’t organize this backpack.”

She groans and starts rummaging around in the mess.

Price kisses the top of her head. When he glances up, you’re standing in the archway, a soft smile on your face. Did you hear the whole conversation? Or just the end?

You stride forward and reach out. Price meets your outstretched hand, threading his fingers with yours.

taglist:

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[cutiecusp]

Something old, something new.

I woke up to an idea of John Price crashing your wedding, or at least stealing a secret kiss before you married someone else. Not proofread, but I lowkey wanna write more.. let me know what you think?

Warning: cheating (a little kiss) pining.

A knock on the door startled you. You had your hair and makeup done, and you were waiting for your father to come and get you to the church.

You stand up and take one last look in the mirror, smoothing down your ivory dress and picking up your bouquet. Once you deemed yourself appropriate, you took a deep breath and pulled opened the door.

"Hello, love." Came a familiar, gruff voice.

You take a step back, surprise and shock evident on your face.

"John?" You whisper in disbelief. "I thought you couldn't make it-"

He steps into the room, his broad shoulders taking up the doorway. His eyes find yours, and he gives you a soft smile.

"I couldn't let you marry 'im without seeing you one last time. You look beautiful, love." He admits.

He raises his hand to your face, his fingers lifting your chin so you couldn't look away from his intense eye contact.

"I couldn't bare to let you walk down the aisle without making sure it's what you really want." He pauses. "I know we have... history."

Your eyes flutter closed as his touch, you and John had been childhood sweethearts, but with the military taking him away repeatedly, you had broken it off and dated elsewhere.

"John, this isn't fair." You protest, pulling your body away from his.

"You had your chance... I'm supposed to be getting married in an hour.." Your grip on your bouquet becomes almost deathly, as your nervously wring your hands around the stems.

"I don't need an hour to change your mind. Just, grant me a favour, please sweetheart." His deep voice whispers in your ear, as his hands circle your waist.

"All I ask for, is one last, little goodbye kiss. That's all." He murmurs against your jaw.

Pulling back, he studies your face, looking for any signs that you don't want this as badly as he does. As you nod your approval, his lips softly press over yours, and the world goes still.

After all, it's one kiss... right? What could go wrong?

@xoxunhinged @misshugs @dustycrusty09

[bloomingdog]

i'm ovulating and thinking about masochist John Price okay….

He’s not necessarily submissive, when he lets you dominate him it’s more for your entertainment than his, but he loves the pain in any occasion, as long as it’s coming from you. He's been hurt before, but never like this.

Arms spread open and unable to touch. He can for sure break free or break the restraints, but he doesn’t, be it out of respect or amusement. He’s naked, but you have his shirt on, sitting by his side and playing with his cock, tugging hard enough to get him hard and needy but not for him to fully get off, it’s frustrating. His soft moans a contrast to the usual commanding voice he uses with his soldiers. You could do this all day, just watching and torturing him. I just think he likes getting edged like…someone to decide for him when he cums, to give him orders, bringing him close to his orgasm and letting go until his mind is blank and there’s only wanting to cum in his brain, no more stress!!

And what about getting up and reaching for the candle lighting the bedside table, you sit back down on his lap. You place a finger inside the pool of wax that’s formed, it burns and the wax solidifies around your finger as you pull it away. He watches with anxious eyes, his chest slick with baby oil so the wax doesn’t stick to his body hair. His eyes close and fists tighten as you tilt the candle. He lets out a breathy groan when the hot wax touches his skin, his dick twitches underneath you against the damp spot in your panties. 

Or or when you’re riding him, and he’s getting close and desperate. “Please” he’s begging!! Captain Price is begging!! If any of his soldiers saw him…“Please hurt me.”  and you know he wants you to slap him. But he’s used to pain, he can take it, he wants it to actually hurt, so he asks you over and over again, harder every time until his cheeks are red and his eyes watery, and you can feel him shake all over until one last slap sends him over, hands grabbing at your waist tu push you down against him so he can empty himself inside you….

And John being marked all over, red scratches where your nails drew blood, teeth marks and hickeys littered around his neck. Him letting out a guttural moan when you bit him on the shoulder when he rides you, rhythm faltering. Like I NEED to mark him. I think he’d lowkey want you to try whipping him just bc of how much he likes it but doesn’t even know how to bring that up and-[get’s forcibly removed from the stage by a comically large cane]

[floralpascal]

NSFW, 18+

John Price always convinces himself that he means it. He’s not the kind of man who breaks his promises.

“Just the tip, love,” he groans, positioning himself at your entrance. Your desperate nod and pleas for him only spur him on.

He swears that he’ll restrain himself, that he’ll keep his promise. He just wants to feel you bare, if only a little. He’s a man of iron resolve — he should be able to control himself without a problem…

But he never was good at keeping this promise when it came to you.

Instead, he finds himself balls deep in your heat, fucking you furiously. The way you’re screaming his name in ecstasy would make him break any promise if only to give you more pleasure. When his cum has painted your walls and you’re both coming down from your highs, he can’t even find the decency to feel sorry for it.

“Fuck…” you groan, pulling him down to kiss you before begging, “Just… just do it again. Please.”

John smiles. With a low, seductive voice, he teases, “Just the tip, yeah?”

[wordstome]

“How did Price end up with three girls who aren’t triplets or twins?” This is how.

I think we’re done here.

[estesphantom]

could you maybe please do a oneshot when price gets home from a long, torturous deployment and all he wants when he gets home is to see his girl? thank you este <3

Home Sweet Home | John Price x Reader

Summary: John gets home from a tiring mission and all he wants is to see your beautiful face and a warm shower with you.

Warnings: mentions of depression, warfare, extremely fluffy, reader has feminine pronouns, not entirely proofread (I got too excited), lots of descriptions

A/N: Thanks for the request. I loved this idea. I love taking suggestions!! They’re open if you’d like to request one. :)

———————

You hadn’t heard from your fiancé in days. He was a busy man, of course, being a Captain of a task force he had willed to be and his job required him to be out on deployments for months at a time. Not being involved in the military, you weren’t too sure of what he did during deployments and he wasn’t one for talking when it came to discussing his missions. You’d never pry — you saw his drained face whenever he’d step into the door after a mission, the color would always be drained unlike the days before he had left.

He never let you read the mission reports or hear much about the gruesome things that had been done. You knew he meant well. Some people needed to get their hands dirty so the rest of the world’s can stay clean. Never once had you had a doubt of John being a good man with good intentions. You weren’t naive; you knew he had killed people and went to gruesome lengths to get missions done, but deep down, you knew he was saving the world.

So, for that, you’d show your appreciation by keeping the home tidy and his face full with lipstick marks and lipgloss. He adored you more than you could ever know and spoiled you like you could never run out of things to buy. You were the perfect couple. Distance only makes the heart grow fonder, which probably was the reason as to why you two love each other so much.

Communication wasn’t something that you and John could achieve so easily when he was on deployments. He was always busy or at a place that had no connection at all, so you were often left to your own devices while he was out there changing the world. But, you knew what you were getting in to the moment you got engaged. You couldn’t blame this on him.

So, you could only imagine the agony you dealt with while awaiting you fiancé’s arrival. The moment he’d open the door and swoop you into his large arms, spinning you around and peppering your face in kisses. You could only knit blankets and read many pages of a long and unfulfilling book before you found yourself staring at John’s cold side of the bed.

It was four weeks into John’s deployment and you weren’t taking it the best. What could you say? He was your soulmate. You couldn’t help but worry sick for your lover and only hope he could return as soon as possible. Midnights were always hell for you because of the loneliness it ensured. Your body would toss and turn in bed before it found itself cuddling a pillow in place of him. This time around, you were fed up with tossing and turning and decided to get a break from your bed and stumble downstairs for a cold glass of milk and a rice krispie.

Your eyes were heavy as metal while the cold milk poured into the glass cup. The night was silent and all that could be heard in your house was the ice dispenser working in your refrigerator. You shoved the milk carton into your fridge and lumbered over towards your couch to enjoy your milk and rice krispie while you stare off into the distance with not a thought behind your eyes, thanks to the drowsiness.

Mid crunch in and you had already settled into a serene calm while you wondered what John was up to. Your loud chewing came to a halt while you heard an engine outside of your house. You swallowed hard. Immediately you had bolted up from your couch to look outside of your window to see John’s car in the driveway. You were sent into a frenzy.

Your body immediately stepped over to the door and unlocked it to find John lumbering his duffle bags tiredly. Your heart skipped a beat as you contemplated yelling out to him. He might have been sensitive to yelling at the moment considering he just came back from unpleasant warfare.

As he stepped closer, he looked up to see your face. For a split moment before he realized it was you, his face looked tortured, tired, and rugged. He’d been through a lot. His face when he saw you was the complete opposite. Though it had twinges of pain in it, there was nothing but relief in his eyes as he approached the door and you squealed out, running up and jumping after he dropped his duffles down.

“Careful, doll,” he chuckles deeply as his large hands cup your bottom. He smelled musky, a hint of gunpowder and metal.

You could feel his deep exhale of relief as he wouldn’t let go of you as if it were the last time he could hug you like that. Not a complaint was uttered out of your lips as you let him hold you for as long as he wanted.

“I missed you way too much,” you smile as he gently lets you down and his hand cups your face to feel if you were real. To him, you were an angel from above coming to save him and bring him to eternal heaven where you could be together forever.

“I’m dirty, baby,” he chuckles, moving pulling away a hand that you tried to kiss. “‘need a shower. You free?” he teased, playing with the hemline of your pajama tee. You giggled at his cheekiness and took his hand to lead him to your shared bathroom.

The shower wasn’t what it usually would be; excitement, lust, steamy. John wanted to engulf himself in your presence and hold onto it like it would slip away if he let go ever so slightly. The way he looked at you while the water trickled down the both of your faces made you want to discover a way to get rid of every ounce of pain he held.

His eyes looked at you as if you were the sun after a rainy day. Longing, happy, safe. He felt safe with you. He didn’t have to remind himself to look out for bullets, to watch his six, to keep track of his men. He was just safe. His soon to be wife was here with him after he had seen nothing but cruelty and blood for four weeks straight and he was ready to do nothing but relax with you.

“You don’t know a fraction of how much I missed you,” he tells you as you rub his face with a facial wash soap. His eyes were almost sunken in as he tells you this. You kiss his nose.

“You can tell me all about it when you’re well rested, okay? We can have breakfast in bed and everything,” you comfort him lovingly as he is slowly breaking out of his flight-or-fight shell he forces himself into to survive.

He nods and kisses the top of your head, “I love you more than you’ll ever know.” His thumb rubs the washed off mascara from your eyelids.

To some people, he might’ve sounded like a sad, broken record. Or maybe even a love-sick puppy. And he might have been. But, to you, this was all you wanted. You stayed up until dawn some nights thinking about John and how poor his life may be whenever he’s out in the field all alone with no one to genuinely talk to about his feelings and sorrows.

Then, he comes home to you, and is able to be comfortable.

[v1x3n]

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

How to remember? - Simon Riley + John Price*F!Reader

“If we meet in next life, how can I recognize you?” “We won’t remember each other, honey.” “Just tell me.” “Then just know, I love white flowers, okay?”

(The men still remain the memories from their past life, but you don’t.)

Price:

He hates white.

It just reminds him of his past life, your ward painted in flawless white, and you left him too early, in that room surrounded with lackluster white and the solitude ghosted him till the end of his life.

He wonders when will he encounter you in this life, a part of him is afraid, that he never see you again.

The thought clouded his mind as he steps into a flower shop, he comes here to pick up the bouquet he ordered. He gain the habit of decorating his flat with white flowers in his room for you, even though it sometimes brings him sorrow.

but his turmoiling mind drops to silence when he spots you.

You look bothered, there’s a man who keeps shoving different colors of flowers at you, but just no white among them.

“She loves white flowers.” Price strolls to your side, picks up a white rose, and he sees your face beams up when he gently shows you the flower.

“better understand the girl more before trying to flirt with her.

After the man rushes out of the shop with embarrassment, Price turns to face you, only to see you looking at him with gratitude.

He wants to cry, actually, he wants to take you into his arms, nuzzle his nose against your neck, tell you how much he misses you, how long he’s been searching for you.

But he knows too clearly, that you don’t remember him.

“Thank you, Mister...?” You ask with softness.

“Call me John.”

“Thank you, John.” You grin delightfully “The guy’s been keep talking to me since he come in.”

“I think he comes in for you, not for the flowers, love.” Chuckling, he picks up some Lily of the Valley and hands it to you.

“You have good taste in flowers, John.” you laugh along with him “But why do you know I love white flowers?”

“...” Price stares at your diamond-like eyes, confusion is obvious inside.

“Maybe we had met in our last life?” He swallows the bitterness back.

“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person.”

“Well, I’m here to get my bouquet. but...” you wait at the same spot as John walks to the counter, minutes later, he comes back with two bouquets in his hands.

and he gives you the one with white roses and Lily of the Valley, decorated with a sky-blue ribbon.

“Oh John, I can’t take this!”

“Consider it as a gift for our first meeting, eh?”

“Well...” He watched you take over the bouquet carefully and suddenly raised your head in excitement. “I know a tea shop nearby, they got some really nice Earl Grey, if you have time, how about we go there and learn about each other more?”

The white flowers shuffle slightly as you shift in happiness. John takes in your feature, finally, this time he can do this in reality, rather than tracing your figure in his mind every night.

and he smiles, hands resting your lower back to lead you out of the flower shop.

“Of course, my pleasure, love”

(white rose: love, loyalty/ lily of the valley: a return of happiness)

Ghost:

White in his memories always accompanied by red after the crimson stained on the flower necklace you always wore.

The painful color engraved in his mind when he took off your necklace from you, before you got put into the bodybag after the mission.

He brought the necklace you left everywhere, caressing it when he almost lost the courage to keep going, holding it against his chest without a gap in those sleepless and weeping nights when you visited his mind again and again.

Even until his next life, he still can’t see white without the hideous incarnadine.

It brings back the memories, the days he still basked in your warmth, instead of bringing you the white flowers and talking to your gravestone.

He doesn’t have a specific interest in flowers, but he knows you have, so he’s willing to go to every flower show, in the hope of seeing you in the crowds.

Today’s another day for seeking you among the countless people. It’s the opening day for the show, and they organize the areas with colors, so once he steps into the park, he heads straight towards the area for white flowers.

He sits on the bench for hours, eyes searching every corner, scanning every person, but there’s no you inside them.

Simon takes a glimpse at the sun, it’s about to set, and the soothing orange of the dusk covers the red inside his mind a bit.

maybe you’ll be here tomorrow, he stands up and starts pacing back to the entrance.

Just as he’s about to leave, he hears a familiar grumble nearby, and he instantly snaps his head in the direction.

There’s you, dressing in an ivory-yellow sundress, looking at the map, and trying to figure out the path to the white flower area.

Simon doesn’t hesitate before he strides to your side.

“The white flower area is on the right side.”

You jump when you hear someone suddenly talk to you, yet your voice is still full of appreciation when you speak.

“Oh! Thank you! I’m trying to figure out how to go there!” You laugh sheepishly “Are you planning to go there too?”

“Yeah, I can lead you there” He nods “If you want to”

“Great! I’m more than happy if you can bring me there.”

Simon walks slightly in front of you on your way to the area, he assumes standing beside you may pressure you too much, but he can’t help but keep looking back at you.

You look as stunning as the memories he recalls when he was alone, but now you are beside him again, and all he can do is stay silent, so those affection and love managing to slip out of his lips won’t succeed.

“Looks like we arrive!” You fish out your phone immediately and start taking a bunch of photos, he moves til he’s inches behind you, watching you infatuated with the snow-white flowers waving in the breeze.

It sure is beautiful, Simon thinks when he immerses in the scene in front of him— Your flowing yellow dress brings out the beauty of the flowers, but nothing’s more fascinating than the elegant grin spreading along your lips.

“Sorry, I just immediately started shooting the flowers. I just can’t resist the pretty of white flowers” You apologize when you turn around and still find the man leading you here still at the same spot, yet a question comes into your mind at the same time. “but why do you know I was looking for white flowers?”

“I guess...” He looks into your eyes, contemplating if he should say this “I guess we met before, in the past life.”

“Hey, surprising that you’re the kind of person who believes in past life!” You raise your eyebrows “But yeah...”

“I have no idea where the idea comes from, but I feel like I have met you before.”

Simon holds his breath when the words flow into his ears. There’s no doubt that you don’t remember him, but he can feel the soreness forming around his eyes.

“Well, I need to go” Checking the time on your phone, you continue “I haven’t asked your name yet, Sir.”

“Simon.” He mumbles under his breath.

“Simon, it’s really nice to meet you.” Your smiles widen.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at 4 pm., I look forward to seeing you here, and we can go have dinner together too.”

Waving goodbye, Simon doesn’t move his eyes from your rear until you disappear in the distance.

and he looks at the white flowers again, but he blinks twice when his eyes land on the flowers.

There’s no dark red in them anymore, but a hint of comforting yellow is surely spreading across the white.

[ghosts-cyphera]

18+; mdni / husband!john price x afab!reader

all I'm saying is that husband!price would slip a dildo in you before sliding your snug little panties back on. he'd lay back on the couch with a cigar and a newspaper, watching you do your little housewife chores while he knows that your panties are getting more soaked by the minute.

he'd notice every small breath and whimper escaping your lips. he'd notice the way you'd squeeze your thighs together every now and then, and the knit of your brows as you'd try your best to focus on chopping vegetables for dinner.

he'd know the feeling to be driving you mad: the feeling of your pussy being so full, all while it wasn't enough. how could it be when it wasn't him pumping in and out of your soaked cunt?

he, too, would only be able to take so much of it. the shaking of your hands would only keep on increasing, until price would finally close his distance to you and gently push aside whatever adorable attempts at cooking you had managed to get done.

he'd gently slide your panties down your thighs.

gently bend you over the kitchen counter of your home as his fingers would wrap around the base of the plastic toy.

fucking torturous, all while so goddamn good as he'd begin to slide it in and out of you. so slow: slow enough to get you begging in no time. so deep: deep enough to fuck you straight to the edge of your orgasm.

"not so fast, sweetheart." his breath against your skin would be warm with his chuckle. "my wife does not come around a fuckin' piece of plastic."

faster than you'd realize, price would slide the dildo out and replace it with his cock. so much better, wasn't it?

so much deeper: his little wife made to be stretched around him; to be fucked silly in their kitchen, all pretty and domestic in their little apron.

"there you go, darling wife. all fuckin’ mine."

[midnightcrw]

Fight

Pairing: Ghost x Reader, Price x Reader, Soap x Reader, Gaz x Reader

Summary: Your child gets in trouble

a/n: This one is a little different from my usual ones, but I just felt like writing for all four of them. I'm not sure how accurate you'll all find them as I've deliberately exaggerated them, but I do believe that Gaz is a sassy man after seeing how he didn't want to shake Graves' hand. I've also named the children of the TF141, I hope that's okay with you all.

Scenario:

The moment you both heard that your child got in trouble, the first thing you two did was rush into the principal's office in fear that something happened.

And now you were both sitting in the principal's office with your child, while another child was there with his parents.

Ghost:

Your eyes widened as you heard the principal say that Daisy and another girl in her class had gotten into a physical fight.

"There was also something your daughter said that is completely unacceptable," Mr. Smith said, looking disappointed at Daisy, even though the girl apparently started the fight and your daughter was just defending herself.

"It wasn't even that bad..." Daisy muttered underneath her breath as she crossed her arms.

Simon was very quiet, but his stoic expression spoke for itself.

"Daisy, I want you to quote what you said," Mr. Smith continued, not wanting to hear another word from her unless she quoted exactly what she said to the girl.

Your daughter looked at you, a pleading look on her face but you just shook your head at her in disappointment, wanting to hear what she said.

She sighed and quoted what she had said before, "You have a face that only a mother could love."

Without missing a single beat, Simon started wheezing in his seat the moment he heard his daughter's insult to the girl.

You glared at him, "Simon!"

Trying to calm down, he put his palm on his mouth as he continued, completely ignoring the angry looks of the principal and the other family.

"Mr. Riley, I want you to calm down. This is highly inappropriate," Mr. Smith said as Simon calmed down.

A few seconds of silence passed between you all before your beloved husband opened his mouth.

"Did you win?"

"Simon!?"

Price:

It felt like hours as the girl's parents and the girl herself ranted and raved about the fact that your daughter Sophie punched her.

At first you had both been shocked, completely angry at your daughter until the parents opened their mouths to speak.

You almost fell asleep listening to the mother go on and on about how her daughter's nose was bleeding because of Sophie.

Price, on the other hand, sat still in his seat, listening to the whole thing, not having said a word since he walked into the principal's office.

"Your daughter should be suspended!" The father said, glaring at Sophie.

Mr. Smith didn't even get a single chance to say anything, as they continued.

Slowly, Price seemed to lose his patience and turned his head towards you and your daughter.

He whispered, "Punch her harder next time."

"What?" The principal asks.

"Nothing."

Price says as Sophie giggles at her dad.

You tried to stifle your grin by putting a hand over your mouth, just hoping that the parents would shut up soon.

Soap:

Your son sat between the two of you, his nose bleeding and his face bruised as he frowned at the boy and his parents.

You were extremely worried as you put a hand on your son, Callum's arm, and quietly asked him if he was hurt anywhere else.

Callum just shook his head, not wanting to speak while Soap was already getting bored listening to all of the talking the principal was doing.

"It doesn't matter if he started insulting him because Callum was the one who got violent," Mr. Smith said as you tried to defend your son.

The boy obviously looked much worse than Callum. His hair was disheveled and his face was bruised. His nose was also bleeding, as was his lower lip.

It looked like your son had done some damage.

"What exactly did he do?" Soap asked, wanting to know exactly how Callum had hit the boy.

As Mr. Smith explained what your son had done, Soap's eyes lit up and a smile appeared on his face.

"I'm so proud of you, you used the punch I taught you," Soap said, extremely pleased that Callum had listened and actually used the things he had taught him.

Callum grinned at his dad's antics as you put your face in your hands, sighing and muttering "Why did I marry this idiot..."

Gaz:

You were shocked to hear what your son, Ethan, had done to the boy.

Mr. Smith was obviously upset and angry that Ethan had acted so childishly, and immediately got into a physical fight the moment the boy wouldn't stop insulting him.

You felt the headache already pounding in your head as you rubbed your temple, completely out of it.

Ethan didn't really say anything, he just listened to everything that was said.

The boy's parents glared at the three of you, never once looking away.

The boy that insulted your son, looked angry, obviously still being pissed at the fact that Ethan punched him, even though he himself started with the insults.

Gaz was not even shocked, sitting there with his hand holding up his head up as he looked extremely uninterested in the principal's endless speech.

Rolling his eyes, Gaz moved closer to you and Ethan as he whispered.

"Did you break any of his bones?"

"No."

"Good, because I'm not paying anything in this economy."

[moralesispunk]

John Price x wife x Simon - now lets talk about John who wants kids but found out he can’t get you pregnant so asks a trusted friend - Simon

NSFW so minors dni (breeding kink, pinv unprotected)

(John x reader x Simon all links here)

John had proposed the idea one night and you had brushed it off, you did it again the second time, but the third time he told you about the idea, about how he had a friend who he would trust with his life and so would trust to get his wife pregnant, you started to think about it.

It was something that had clearly been weighing on his mind, on both your minds really though yours in a different way. Kids had always been in your idea of the future, especially a future after John's retirement, but after a year of trying with no success you both found yourself at a doctor holding a result that told you John couldn't have kids.

It was a hard blow for both of you but you decided to give yourselves some time to deal with the emotions of it first. That was, until John came up behind you one day in the kitchen for the third time, chin resting on your shoulder as he told you a way that you could have a kid that may not be his biologically but one he would love wholeheartedly.

"Let's just sit down, the three of us, and talk about it," he said.

So you agreed, "just talk no promises" you told your husband and he kissed your cheek with a smile, moustache tickling your skin as you laughed and wriggled away from him.

It was a night that had you making dinner and talking about your week, filling the silence nervously as you cleaned the plates away, before John pulled you to the living room and onto his lap on one sofa, Simon taking the other.

You both listened as Simon told you that he wanted kids but didn’t feel he could have a relationship. He didn’t want to just be some guy to your kid, he wanted to be another dad, who got to see them and take them at weekends and be no different to you or John. John's hand was a steady weight on your back as you listened, and then after a moment to think about it agreed, the three of you deciding to forgo the expensive procedures with doctors and, as John said, do it the ol’ fashioned way.

So here you were, lying on your back and looking up at Simon who was slowly pushing himself into you. John was sitting in the chair in the corner, having spent the last forty minutes or so helping Simon stretch you open, using his thumb on your clit as Simon curled his fingers inside you until you had come twice before John said you were ready.

"Fuck," Simon groaned and your hands clawed at the covers until he was fully seated inside you.

Your eyes were tearing up. He was bigger than John, although not as girthy, and hitting you deeper than you had felt before. Your head rolled to the side towards John and he could see in your eyes that you needed something more, sitting up from the chair and coming to kneel by the bed.

"You can take it." John stroked a hand over your head. "Can't you, angel?"

"Mhm!" You moaned, Simon's fingers digging into your hips as he started to thrust into you faster.

"Let me hear you," John said, thumb pressing down on your chin so you stopped biting your bottom lip and let your moans out.

You weren't sure who to moan for, what to do. "I can take it," you said, looking at John, but he shook his head.

"Tell Simon."

You rolled your head back and looked up at Simon, your fingers reaching to stroke along his knuckles before he took your hand in his. "I-I can take it, Si-" You cut off on another moan and Simon's eyes were nearly rolling to the back of his skull.

You were both getting close, Simon's chin tucked to his chest as he watched his cock get lost in you and your eyes were rolling when John started rubbing circles on your clit.

"Gonna fill my wife up?" John asked and Simon grunted, his eyes flicking up to yours.

"You goin' to let me? Let me get you good and pregnant?" Simon asked through his grunts and your back archesd off the bed, muttering of please, please, please passing your lips in breathy moans.

"Need you to come for me first," he said and John kept that steady pressure against your clit that he knew you liked, his lips pressed against your temple.

John reached for your other hand, the one not holding Simon's and felt you squeeze it as you came closer to your orgasm. "You're so good," he whispered against your skin "You're doing so well, you're almost there."

"Fuck, Simon! J-John!" You squealed and both men groaned, John wrapped his hand around his cock and stroking it in time with Simon's thrusts.

Your body tensed and relaxed as you came, Simon holding you there with one hand on your hip, your head turning and kissing John who was spilling over his hand. He swallowed all of your moans, pulling back when Simon started to work through his release and he pulled Simon to you, his friend now kissing his wife as he spilled into you.

Simon's kisses were different from John's and you let go of both their hands to run through his hair. He was softer in his kisses, tentative almost as small whines came from the back of his throat until his body relaxed on top of yours.

"Hips up, baby," John's voice came from beside you and Simon pulled back, rolling to the side as John slid a pillow under your hips.

"I don't know if there's science behind this," you giggled, dizzy and sated.

"Not taking any chances," Simon whispered, his rough hand running down your stomach.

After a while the men carried you to the bath, washed you and had you hydrated and tucked back under the covers. If you had been more aware of your surroundings and not on the edge of a deep sleep, you would probably be thinking about that might have been it, how you, Simon and John might be having a baby.

Simon bent down and kissed your forehead, smiling against your lips when you tilted your head up to kiss him proper.

"Well, I should-" Simon reached for his jeans but you stopped him with a hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Stay," you said, tugging his wrist once.

His eyes flicked to your husband and he must have found whatever he was looking for because he dropped his jeans by the side of the bed and lay down beside you, pulling your body into his chest.

John lay on your other side, pulling the duvet up and switching off the bedside lamp.

John had wondered if part of him would struggle with this set up, whether he would get jealous and call it off, yet when he looks at you in Simon's arms it feels right. Especially when, even while asleep, you reach a hand out to wrap around his.

________

ready to run into the sea after writing that