#john price oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostandsoap · 8 months

Text

Sitting Pretty

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, that didn't stop you from trying.

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

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was something worth taking advantage of.

"That makes two of us."

2K notes · View notes

soapybutt17 · 8 months

Text

Night Showers

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

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God fucking damnit.”

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

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

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

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

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

“But…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes what, Lieutenant?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you broken?” John inquired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aye Price!”

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

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

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

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

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

The consequence of his own actions it seems.

2K notes · View notes

thewulf · 20 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.

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.

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.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

163 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 10 months

Text

To live without- 141 + Alejandro

Based on a request:

Hii can I make a request for some angst?? Maybe the reader having an argument with the TF 141 + Alejandro, inside the car or anywhere resulting to a break up?? Cause I'm a sucker for angst, thankss 🫶

F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, break-ups, cheating (not all)

A/N: This will be in 5 parts

Part 2, (Soap), Part 3 (Gaz), Part 4 (Alejandro), Part 5 (Ghost)

It has been a stressful few months for him, between his job, you, his own safety and yours, let alone the current argument over her. It's why you and he are now in the car, having this argument.

Price:

He decided that since Laswell invited him to dinner with a few other soldiers and agents, why not take you? Besides you and him haven't gone out much since his last deployment, so this is the perfect opportunity. While having dinner at some restaurant, Price and a woman, much closer to his age than you, stroked conversation. He was telling her stories that not once he had told you and of course, his natural flirty state was in the mix. You were talking with Kate and her wife when you saw how close the woman was getting with your boyfriend. So, as one does, you took his hand and he immediately let go of it, not once making eye contact with you.

Kate and her wife saw this and knew it would not end well if the woman was not taken elsewhere. After dinner, you were the first one to leave the establishment. All others inside were either saying their goodbyes or getting acquainted. "yeah, this is my-" he turns to introduce you to some agent only to find your seat empty. Immediately he left too, only to find you in the car, probably telling your friend what was going on. He gets in, " alright, so will you tell me what the hell that was about?" he asks you. You look at him, for a while now he has been distant, so of course you had even more motives to suspect him. "You let go of my hand," your voice soft yet hinting at some hurt his past action left behind.

That was it, the final straw that threw him over the edge, "you fucking walked away from dinner because I didn't hold your hand any longer?!"

"Yes, do you even care how that even looks? I hold your hand all the time at dinners and this was the first time you let go of it because of that woman!"

"Don't you dare bring her into this." by this point some of the wine he had drunk was making its way into his system. "Why not, hm? why did you let go of my hand, John!" your eyes teary, trying to blink them away. "You really think this is all about you? That I intend to hurt you by some little thing like letting go of your hand?!" Your argument is being heard by some people. He knows better, that at dinners or in public when you hold his hand it's because you are trying to calm yourself down, your social anxiety gets the best of you and his hold brings comfort. "...she's just a friend.." he murmurs. And just when you were going to say something, he gets a text, "Will you come over after you drop her off?" he knows damn well you saw it and now he is prepared for the storm. "you are cheating on me?" oh the way your voice cracked and how tears spilt from your eyes. "...sorry," was all he could say. "you let go of my hand because you and this fucking whore have a thing!" back to yelling. "R/n, you are just a fucking pain in the ass! So of course I am cheating on you!" the instant regret once those words left his mouth.

The look on your face as he said them, never to forget the last time he saw that face of yours. And now you are far from him, he alone in his empty house, never to be called home again. Never to be greeted by you and your happy personality, truth be told, he still looks for you in every place he goes.

A/N: Hi, so since I don't want to make this post too long I separated it into parts, who do you want for part 2?

469 notes · View notes

savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 3 months

Text

The Gang's All Here

Biker!John Price X Wife!Reader

It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.

a/n:this fic was inspired by this GORGEOUS artwork by @yakowo and I could not get the idea out of my head, also for anyone who voted in favor for the tattoos? you're welcome (P.S. I'm so sorry for making you guys wait MONTHS for this!)

(These are the tattoos I picture John having!)

John wasn’t the type of person that you’d expect to come onto base riding a motorcycle, a Harley Davidson no less. So, when Soap and Gaz were outside cracking jokes together their jaws dropped as John parked the roaring beast. When the hell had he managed to find the time to ride? It felt like they’d been gone for the last year nonstop. Gaz had heard all about how much you missed John. It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.

“Laswell approved the time off, we’re gonna get to spend Halloween with the missus this year.” Gaz was probably more excited than anyone.

It may have been due to the fact you were all planning on matching, Gaz had picked Simon’s name from the hat, while you and Johnny were going to be matching. John downright refused, saying he couldn’t trust the boys to pick his costume. He’d made you swear to secrecy, no one was allowed to know his costume until Halloween. You weren’t complaining though, not after he’d promised to let you help ‘grease him up’.

“Better not get too rowdy this year, lord knows Johnny nearly got arrested last time.” Of course that had been because someone had tried to roughly grab you when John was off getting you drinks.

The boys had always been quite protective of you, doing whatever they could to make sure you were safe and keep all the creeps away. You’d been married to their captain the entire time they’d all known one another, so you were the co-captain in their eyes. Johnny was definitely the most protective, he saw you as a little sister(even though you were older than him). Simon would simply glare at anyone who looked at you wrong, scaring them off before they could utter a single word. Gaz would throw down with anyone who dared utter a single bad thing about you, how dare you disrespect his co-captain!

“He said he’d be on his best behavior, something about not wanting to anger the missus this time.” You’d turned into a scolding mother when Johnny began to act out, it was hilarious to watch.

John had thrown you over his shoulder even while you were kicking and screaming to be put down so you could continue your scolding. Johnny learned that night not to piss you off lest he deal with your wrath for the rest of the night. It was a comical thing, knowing you could insight fear into a man who sees death for a living.

“Better not, she told me they’re doing matching costumes and I can’t risk her needin’ to get a costume last minute.” That wasn’t to say you wouldn’t be able to find something from your closet, but you’d planned this months prior.

“Simon and I are too, you’re gonna be the odd man out captain.” Gaz smirked over at the other man, noticing the way his brow raised slightly.

“You and Ghost are wearing matching costumes? How’d you convince him?” Simon wasn’t afraid to let loose and enjoy himself, but wearing a costume to match with Kyle? That was shocking.

“Said he wanted to wear something to help get some attention, can’t say much else.” Gaz was going to keep his lips sealed until halloween had arrived, it was going to be the surprise of the century.

John knew better than to try and pry, this was out of his hands and as long as you were happy, he was happy. His mind began to wander for a few seconds, what would the holidays be like when you had your own little tots running around. You’d probably dress them up into cute halloween costumes and take them trick or treating. It didn’t sound like such a horrible thing at the moment, seeing you take the little ones up to the doors to get candy you’d sneak for yourself. No, no thinking about things like that when you’re at work and have important things to do, like a mountain of paperwork.

“Keep an eye on things and make sure the new recruits aren’t acting like idiots, please.” John waited for Gaz to acknowledge his words before heading down to his office.

The picture from your wedding day was the only one he’d been willing to take to base with him, not wanting to risk the wrong person knowing about you. His wedding ring sat alongside his dog tags, resting against his chest every day. It was a reminder that no matter how stressful things could be, he would always go home to you at the end of the day. They weren’t due for another assignment until the end of November, mainly because Laswell needed more intel first. Maybe that was the only reason they were allowed the few weeks of leave that was granted. Oh well.

It was nearing seven at night by the time John realized he hadn’t so much as left his desk to get a drink or even a bite to eat. Shit, you were going to absolutely ream his ass when he got home and you found out. This wasn’t the first time, and absolutely wasn’t going to be the last that he’d completely forgotten about himself. Simon had given him hell from time to time, telling him he needed to eat before you showed up at the base yourself. It had only happened once, though that was more due to the fact he needed the paperwork he’d forgotten and not because he hadn’t left his desk for..ten hours.

Standing up and stretching his tired limbs he groaned at the exertion and cracking from his idle bones. Shit, he had definitely been sitting for too long if standing for a few seconds sent shivers down his spine almost instantly. Time to get something to eat and head home for the next few weeks. He’d barely made it out of his office before Johnny was running over with what could only be described as childlike glee.

“Captain! Was hopin’ I could catch you.” The plus side of working alongside Johnny was that he could get shit done when necessary, the downside is when he was excited the man could talk forever.

“Just grabbing a quick bite and heading out, have you got your leave papers yet?” John didn’t have much time to talk, not if he wanted to make it home before you were in bed already.

“Just this mornin’, I wanted to ask about the bike.” Johnny was nervous, given that the last time he’d seen one was nothing more than a quick glance on their last mission.

“What about it?” John turned into the cafeteria, grabbing a plastic wrapped sandwich that was most likely made that morning.

Johnny wrung his hands together nervously, if questioned he would vehemently deny that his palms had become sweaty when asking his higher-up about something as simple as a motorcycle. Maybe he could just ask you about it instead, surely John had told you some things here and there and you’d managed to pick up any information.

“I uhh, I was wondering where you got it, she’s a beaut.” There, he’d ripped off the bandaid and didn’t need to make this any harder than it needed to be.

“Found her through a seller, she was in pretty rough shape so I’ve been fixin’ her up on leaves.” The bike was John’s pride and joy, second of course to you, but he loved his harley in a different way.

“Oh! Okay, that’s cool.” Johnny nodded, keeping a slight distance between himself and his captain.

“Any reason you’re asking?” John grabbed a bottle of water before turning to sit down at one of the open tables.

Johnny felt his nerves skyrocket, how does one admit they’d always wanted to ride but were too afraid of nearly getting themselves killed? His mother had given him hell for it, saying he’d lose his life by being reckless. It had deterred the idea for years, but seeing so many bikes made him want to do it anyway.

“No reason, see you later cap.” Johnny nodded once before heading out of the room.

John wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t confused, it wasn’t often that people even saw him on the rumbling biped vehicle, but given the opportunity he always took it. Nothing more invigorating than feeling the wind whip around you, the sound of the bike echoing behind. You would beg John to take you for a ride constantly, especially on date night.

The recruits were quiet as they sat amongst themselves, discussing what their next drills would possibly be. It suddenly hit John how old he was, he’d been so used to making sure that everyone else was taken care of that he hadn’t taken the time to really look at life. You’d both discussed having children when the both of you were truly ready. If it came down that neither of you would truly be ready for a child, then neither of you would become parents. He’d just be the fun uncle that could send the kiddos home hyped up on sugar.

After he’d finished his sandwich and water it was time to head out. Any paperwork was sent off for review, and if it wasn’t up to Laswell’s standards she could wait until he was back. Getting home and relaxing for the rest of the night was high on his priority list at the moment. Maybe the two of you could order take out instead of cooking, maybe even a glass of wine to go along with it. You’d be dealing with everyone in a few days anyway, god where had the year gone that it was already Halloween again.

The sun was nearly gone by the time John had made it out of his office, grabbing the keys to his bike and heading towards the garage. Ghost’ voice was booming, words sharp as a whip towards whomever he was angry with. John sighed deeply before turning towards the shooting range, if it was a new recruit this could get ugly fast. And much to his annoyance it was not one, but four new recruits, each of them looked terrified as Simon nearly towered over them.

“Do you think this is a joke? Something to laugh about?!” Ghost was enraged, hands clenched into fists by his side.

“No sir.” They spoke in unison, each with their heads down, gazes locked on the floor.

“The next time you come in here thinkin’ you’re gonna play with the weapons, I will have you removed, permanently.” Ghost took gun safety quite seriously, one wrong move could end the lives of multiple people.

“Yes sir.” They all nodded, waiting for further instructions.

“Get out of my sight.” Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until they all scrambled away before turning to face John.

There were no words shared between the two men, neither of them needed to say anything to get their points across anyway. However, John wanted to make sure that Simon would be alright before leaving for the night.

“Still coming over for Halloween?” John was still curious on what Gaz had picked for the costumes, couldn’t be too bad.

“I promised your missus I would anyway.” No one on the task force could tell you no, it was adorable.

“I’ll see you then, make sure the recruits stay out of trouble.” John nodded at him, heading down to the garage so he could get home to you.

The night air was cold, bike rumbling beneath him as he wound his way along the roads that lead to your shared home. He’d sent a quick text to you before he left, telling you to order dinner so the two of you could relax together. Good food, a glass of wine, and the most amazing wife that he could ever ask for sounded like a perfect night to him. Now if he could ignore the clawing thoughts that came with work that would be even better. Laswell knew better than to call him unless it was an absolute emergency that he needed to attend to.

The light was on outside as he pulled into the driveway, parking the bike and waiting until it was settled to step off. The sound of music echoed through the partially opened window, the sound of your voice following along with the lyrics. John snickered to himself, it was definitely a song from your younger years, it was definitely a 90’s boyband. If you were letting loose, what would he walk into? Shaking off his shoulders he headed into the house, locking the door behind him before slipping off his boots.

“Baby!” You ran over, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

“Hello to you too, having a party without me?” John’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his body.

“Never, can’t have a party without the man of the hour.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips, giggling as he tried to pull you back for more.

The two of you laughed happily, dancing together until the doorbell rang loudly, letting you know your dinner had arrived. You had mentioned a movie you’d wanted to see earlier that week, talking about how scary it was from your friends. John could handle some little movie no problem at all, everything about it was fake anyway.

“Alright, got our food, drinks, time to turn on the movie.” You wiggled into your seat, pressing play on the remote before digging in to your food.

The movie, for lack of a better word, was absolutely terrible. It was sort of a tradition in your home that during October you would watch corny horror movies whenever John was home. It was something you’d been adamant on, refusing to let the tradition die out. Of course you’d watch the classic horror movies to help break up the monotony of the bad ones. John had insisted you watch The Thing recently, until you remembered the kennel scene. Watching poor animals, even fake ones, get hurt always makes you upset.

“What do we watch next? We’ve got a few days before the party, and you don’t need to go back until after.” You popped a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth, chewing slowly so you didn’t get any kernels stuck between your teeth.

John pondered for a brief moment, he’d loved watching the classics, but maybe something new could be better? No, something from the 90’s maybe.

“What about Candyman?” It was one of your favorites, having grown up as a horror fan you clung onto the infamous movie.

“A man after my own heart.” You giggled and grabbed your remote to turn the movie on.

The only light in your living room, besides the TV of course, were the string lights you’d hung up in the middle of September. You’d claimed it would help give ambience to the movie watching experience, and John definitely had to admit that it had. It gave off an eerie vibe that he couldn’t quite place, but given that it was Halloween he wasn’t going to complain.

You could practically recite the movie, the way Tony Todd portrayed the character of Candyman so well never ceased to amaze you. You’d wanted to have a career in film making, but given that the industry was one of the hardest to get into, your dreams were crushed.

You wouldn’t have met John had you followed your dreams.

You hummed softly, it was true, had you followed your heart you would have never met your husband. Sure you probably would’ve met someone in Hollywood, but it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Wait, what are you wearing for Halloween?” You glanced over at your husband.

“I’ve got a pair of overalls I’m gonna grease up. Go dressed as a mechanic.” John was nothing short of efficient. He’d found them one day after going through his clothes and tossing out anything that was either too old, or had holes to be thrown away.

“Hmm, that works.” You turned and put your attention back onto the movie on your screen.

You and Johnny would be matching, while Simon and Kyle would technically be matching. It had started as a joke but after discussing it, you had all agreed and the plans were set in stone. The costumes arrived a few weeks after you’d ordered them, the boys all paying you back right away. John of course had no idea what you were wearing, and you weren’t going to tell him until the very night of. It was going to be quite the surprise, you couldn’t wait for him to see.

Halloween

You were pulling on your undergarments, not wanting to spoil any surprises your husband might find later before quickly pulling on your dress. You’d been tempted to order a wig to truly match but you didn’t want to risk it. Instead you fixed up your hair, placing the headband before pulling on a pair of pantyhose. After a quick glance in the mirror you were happy with your look, pulling on the shoes and heading down to the living room. The boys had all crammed into your home, each of them taking their respective costumes to go and change. John had run to the store to get one final bag of candy, promising he’d be back in time to head to the party.

Kyle walked out in his amazing glory, the fluffy coat showing off his amazing physique.

“I have to admit, you make an amazing Ken.” You snickered and twirled your finger, telling him to give you a full view.

The costume was perfect, down to the headband and sunglasses he’d managed to find last minute. It was the only thing missing out of his entire get up.

“What can I say? I was born to be a total stud.” He smirked before bursting into laughter, both of you righting yourselves as Johnny walked out.

“I forgot how much I hated wearing boots sometimes.” Johnny muttered to himself.

The two of you had dressed as Velma and Daphne, Johnny had offered to be Velma since he was already a natural brunette. You weren’t going to argue with the man, the dress gave your husband even easier access.

“If you can tuck the bottom of the sweater under itself, it’ll look better.” You walked over and helped him adjust the dark orange sweater, brushing down the fabric of his skirt.

“Bettah?” Johnny glanced at you, hoping you could head out soon.

“Much.” You smiled and stepped back from him.

Before any of you could say anything else Simon walked out of the guest bathroom, the hot pink outfit causing all of your jaws to drop open. How Kyle had convinced him to dress up as cowboy Barbie you weren’t entirely sure, but god did he look fantastic.

“I have to admit, you look fucking hot right now.” Your eyes were wide, hands reaching up to mess with the green scarf wrapped around your neck.

“Thanks, this is all Kyle’s idea.” Simon tossed his bag down beside the couch.

“I’m not complaining, those pants are doing so much for your ass right now.” Your cheeks heated up before you caught the way Johnny was also eyeing him. At least you weren’t alone.

The sound of the front door opening suddenly caught your attention, your husband made it home with a few minutes to spare. Such a procrastinator that one was, now you’d be rushing out the door to get to the party.

“Sorry! Nearly got into a fight with someone who almost hit me on the way home. I just need to get dressed.” John dropped the candy into the large bowl, turning to face the rest of you.

His eyes landed on Simon first, a slight brow raised before he saw Kyle, followed by Johnny, and then lastly you.

“Don’t tell me. Kyle and Simon are Barbie and Ken, and you two are Daphne and Velma?” John snickered as he slipped off his shoes quickly.

“Good job, now go get dressed so we can leave!” You all but pushed your husband towards your bedroom.

You could discuss the costumes later when you were actually where you needed to be for the night, right now was not the time. The plus side is that you were within walking distance of the party, the downside was that you were definitely going to be late.

“Jeez, your arms look even bigger.” Kyle blurted out as Simon flexed his arms. Johnny was practically drooling at the sight.

“Alright, you guys head outside and I’ll see what’s taking John so long.” You waited until they’d all left, mainly to make sure poor Johnny didn’t pass out.

Shaking your head you made your way down to your bedroom, pushing the door open slowly so you didn’t startle him.

“Hey hun, are you…” You trailed off as you saw your husband, the white tank top he’d dirtied and greased up showed off the sleeves of tattoos as well as his back piece beautifully.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, let’s go hun.” John spritzed a couple sprays of cologne before heading over to you.

You watched the way his muscles ripped beneath the fabric, eyes glancing down to his legs beneath the coveralls. The arms over his coveralls were wrapped around his waist, giving him the look of being an actual mechanic. Jesus you weren’t going to be able to keep your hands off of him at this rate.

“I’ll have to remember to have someone take a photo of us when we get there.” You grabbed your wristlet and headed out of the house with John.

The other three, that were locked in a heated discussion, all fell silent as they saw their captain in a tank top.

“Holy shit, you’re covered in tattoos?!” Kyle was floored, he’d recently found out his captain rode motorcycles, but seeing this? This was all new.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve had these for years.” John merely shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist as you all made the short walk to Kate’s house.

The music was loud enough that you could hear it outside, but it was clear that everyone was still able to have conversations. Kyle, Simon, and Johnny all took off the moment you got inside with John, causing you to roll your eyes. You just wanted one photo to at least remember the night, the costumes looked so good too!

“I’ll make sure they take a photo before we head home tonight, promise.” John pressed a kiss to your hair, leading you further into the party.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you leaned against him, avoiding any of the grease that could ruin your dress.

The party was lively, everyone complimenting your costume as well as John’s even asking a few questions about his tattoos. John was proud of the work he’d had done, especially the back piece he’d sat through over five sessions for. You loved when John got the recognition he deserved. The man was downright gorgeous, and you were reveling in the fact that he’d chosen you out of everyone.

The hours flew by, the drinks flowing through your system before John cut you off. He wasn’t going to risk getting you drunk like last time. You’d taken photos with all of your friends, giggling at the couples costume that Farah and Alex had done. He’d dressed up as a dinosaur while she was dressed like a handler. Everyone took photos with John, claiming they wanted to show off the tattoos he had and see if they could get something half as good. You knew better, it was only because of how gorgeous your husband was. You weren’t blind, even in regular clothes John was the most attractive man you’d ever met.

“Hey, why don’t I take you home? It’s getting late anyway.” John could see the way your eyes were drooping closed, exhaustion seeping into your bones.

“We gotta round up the boys too.” You’d offered up the spare bedrooms so they didn’t have to worry about driving home so late at night.

“Already did, sweetheart, so let’s go.” John scooped you up into his arms, saying goodbyes to everyone before making your way out of the house.

Your eyes slowly slipped closed as you rested against his chest, your feet sore from standing in the kitten heels for the last five hours. John didn’t so much as complain as he carried you to your shared home, opening the door to let everyone inside. Johnny didn’t hesitate to rip off his boots, tossing them aside before ripping off the sweater. John raised a brow at the younger man, watching as he hurriedly picked up his discarded items.

“Sorry, sir.” Johnny wasn’t going to let them lie around, would never do so in someone else’s home, but getting to strip down was his only thought.

“Just clean up, that's all I ask.” John turned and headed up to your bedroom, laying you on the plush mattress before turning to change into his own pajamas.

Your soft snores filled the air, chest rising and falling slowly as you slept peacefully on your bed. John chuckled and finished getting changed, turning to help you out of your own clothes. His eyes widened as he realized you had gotten new lingerie, jaw dropping open. He’d talk to you about it tomorrow, right now you were exhausted and needed some sleep.

After grabbing one of his more oversized shirts he helped ease you into the fabric, pulling off your headband and setting everything onto the dresser. You hadn’t so much as flinched the entire time, assuring John that you were completely asleep. He headed down to the living room, making sure the other three were settled before turning off the lights. It was fun getting to see everyone dressed up, simply enjoying themselves with good company.

“Thank you, for being the best thing I could ever ask for.” John crawled into bed beside you, pulling you flush to his chest.

You murmured softly in your sleep, wrapping your arms around his waist. There were definitely some things that the two of you needed to talk about.

Those could wait, for now he would simply hold you and enjoy himself.

tagging: @gaylemonshark @thesinsoflust @dante-mightdie @mh073099

150 notes · View notes

ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 1 year

Text

An Evening of Persuasion (John Price x Reader)

Summary: An unstoppable force (your desire to get your captain a somewhat regular sleep schedule) meets an immovable object (Price immersed within an endless pile of paperwork).

AN: Had a go at writing John Price. Once again, please don’t make fun of me. It’s already bad enough I’m down horrendous for a man with mutton chops. Thank you everyone who voted in the poll! I’ll post them in the order of the results.

Reader is GN with no use of Y/N.

Content warning:

Masterlist // AO3

The late-night interaction started with you being a hypocrite. Your policy of “knock and wait until the person on the other side of the door allows you to enter” was one you’d held long before you joined the military. It was the bare minimum level of respect that could be shown, as well as a display of patience.

Tonight you committed the ultimate sin: you knocked as you opened the door.

From his desk, Captain Price spoke with the heaviest of sarcastic tones as you closed the door to his office behind you: “Yes, please, come in. No need to wait outside until I’m ready.”

The famed boonie hat was off and sitting politely by his buzzing desk lamp. His hands were bare, their gloves paired and no doubt in his middle desk drawer. One of his hands reached for his mug whilst he kept scanning the sheet of paper in the other. He only looked up when he patted the placemat – not his mug – to see you holding his drink hostage, staring down into the blackness that occupied it.

“You can’t drink this; you’ll be up all night!” You frowned.

“That’s the point.” Hand open, palm up, eyebrows raised, Price began to stare you down. His silent steely eyes held you like a deer in the headlights. Except you had far better control over your instincts and knowledge of your Captain that ran deeper than the Marianas Trench.

After blinking first out of the two of you, you held the mug to your lips and started chugging the coffee down.

“For God’s sake,” grunted Price. He was up and out of his chair.

Celebrating the success of getting him to move, you circled around the desk backwards, still holding the coffee out of reach, “It’s gone eleven; you need to go to bed.”

Price was unrelenting, “Give me the coffee.”

“You’re gonna regret it in the morning!”

“You’re already gonna regret it; I’m putting you on bathroom duty for the next two weeks.”

The hand was already back out, not close enough to make a sudden grab for the mug. It was a power play. His success required you to give it up willingly, and he was adding to the pressure of the return.

“Three weeks. Give it back.”

Making more demands though, he didn’t have to do that – just add to the punishment and let that speak for itself. He must really be tired.

Rather than push that tactic, you decided to butter him up instead and make him lower his guard by handing back the coffee mug. He didn’t even smile at his success. An ache grew in your chest, melancholy in the absence of those eye crinkles that appeared whenever John’s grin grew across his face. You watched him sit back down at his desk, replacing the coffee mug, before he leant back and sighed deeply with his face hidden in a hand.

“John?” You said quietly. He let out a low hum but didn’t look at you.

You followed the path he’d taken until you were stood behind him. With a firm squeeze on his shoulders, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and rested your chin on his head.

“Why are you so persistent, eh?” He said gruffly

“Because I care about you,” You mumbled before kissing his cheek and releasing him in favour of spinning him around in his chair to face you, “C’mon, you can leave it until tomorrow.”

Captain John Price did not rise from his office chair. Instead, one of his feet kicked up to rest on the opposite’s knee. He lifted then tilted his head, his fore and middle finger stroking over his bottom lip, teasing it into a smirk as he watched you through slitted eyelids.

“What?” You folded your arms, struggling not to fidget further.

John pursed his lips, “Just lookin’ at you.”

“That’s a dirty tactic, Captain.”

“Pulling rank is a dirty tactic – and an odd choice for you to make, considering I outrank you by a very large margin.”

“Don’t I know it,” You popped out your right hip with a grin.

Your double entendre scored you a couple of points, since you got to hear Price’s hearty laugh for a few seconds. It broke his stare as his head lolled back, only returning once his mirth had ended – the only clue to its existence the glint in his blue eyes and the crinkles at the corners.

Carefully, as if to avoid a HR violation, he said, “Are you trying to seduce me into bed?”

How dare he, when he was sat looking at you and looking like that, accused you of such a thing. Sure, you’d done it before and it had been very effective, but you has to act like you were slightly above using sex to get John to prioritise his health over his paperwork. Set an example and all that.

“I don’t need to,” You replied, “Because my boyfriend is going to do what I ask.”

“Is he now?” John raised his eyebrows.

After another brief stare down, you rolled up the sleeves of your shirt: “Fine. Can’t say I didn’t try being nice.”

And that’s how you ended up perched in his lap, nice and comfortable and straddling his thick thighs. You didn’t miss the quirk of John’s lips before he ironed out his expression to remain neutral; that became especially difficult to maintain as he shuffled the chair around to face the desk.

“Hope you don’t use these torture techniques on anyone else,” he signed a document and placed it in his out tray – his very small out tray.

“No, I save them for geriatric stubborn superior officers.”

“I’d be very surprised if Ghost let you try this out.”

“Are you kidding? He’s all over me,” You said, bobbing and weaving your head from side to side as John tried to get a good look at the next file behind you.

John scoffed to (poorly) hide the wince, “Don’t say that.”

“Jealous?”

“Disgusted.”

“You brought him up; one might call it a dirty tactic.” You were very pleased with that one. “I’ll stop talking about it if you come to bed.”

“Extortion! Now we’re talking.”

“A language you can understand, at last!”

“… Fine!” John capped his pen then kissed you on the forehead, “I’ll go to my room.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Even with this assurance, you continued to monitor him close down his office for the night and retire to his private quarters. That meant watching him get undressed, occasionally helping him with an item of clothing he clearly wasn’t struggling with.

When he was down to his undershirt, you headed towards the door, but John caught your elbow neatly, “Hang on, you’re not staying? After all that hard work putting moves on your superior officer?”

You untangled yourself from him, “No, you put me on toilet duty for three weeks.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Shut up and get into bed.”

John didn’t try holding back the smile or the flush hidden mostly by his mutton chops, "Technically, I only agreed to go to my room.”

“John!”

“I'll get into bed if you tuck me in.”

“Toilet duty. Three weeks.”

“I’ll lower it to one week.”

“No, you won’t.”

As he sidled away from you, John sighed, “I guess you know me too well.”

“Oh, I see what this is,” You said as he languidly removed his sleep shirt with his back, his gorgeous back, to you, “You’re trying to seduce me again.”

“Just taking turns, it’s only fair.”

With a flourish, John discarded the shirt into his laundry basket. You had to redirect your gaze to the ceiling because, if you could see any part of his chest, you would not be able to control yourself and you couldn’t let him catch you ogling openly.

“Fair, right. You don’t ever play fair,” You deflected, temptation approaching in your peripherals.

“I find that accusation offensive.” You stiffened as, with ease, John lifted you up into his arms and smirked since he’d given you no option but to look at him. “If anything, my playing this way balances out your actions in my office.”

You weren’t immune to his charm; he’d eroded your iron will into a rusty stump. So, as he carried you over to the bed, your hands slid up to link behind the back of his neck and you relaxed a little.

Still, you couldn’t help but throw another quip his way: “Getting practice in?”

John paused before sitting down on the bed with you over his lap, “For what?”

“Weight lifting, Gaz said you were trying it out the other day. Got matching sweatbands and legwarmers.”

It was a lie that doubled as a rib. But there wasn’t any retort to this fabrication; John started unlacing your boots instead, acting more interested in getting you to sleep with/beside him than whatever slip-up he’d just skidded on. Thing was, you weren’t sure what the slip-up was, what was making him act like this. If you weren’t about to curl up atop the blankets and snooze, you’d probably have been able to work out what was suddenly bothering him, and maybe you’d be more subtle. But it was almost midnight and you’d had a 5:30 start, so you just asked him outright:

“Why, what did you think it was practice for?”

“Dragging your arse around while out in the field,” John replied, tugging off one of the boots to toss it over by his. Your pride wasn’t wounded because that was the biggest fib you’d heard.

You bent your leg, holding your foot hostage, “Johnathan Price, tell me now or I’ll go to my own bunk.”

But the use of his full name didn’t dissuade him. No, John grabbed you by the ankle and dragged back, causing you to slide back against him. He raised his eyebrows at you when you tried tugged it back, effectively ceasing your resistance to receive his revelation.

“Thought about carrying you to our bed on our wedding night.” His blue eyes held you still for that revelation, setting your stomach into knots, then he was back to untying your laces.

You knew he had nerves of steel, but John remaining pretty casual after confessing to a daydream of marriage between you both? You would’ve had more composure dealing with bomb defusal. Even now, your face was hot, your throat was drying up, and you weren’t even the one to confess.

Marriage, you’d mentioned it by the third week of the relationship, saying that it was something you would like with the right person and he was looking like that right person. John agreed and, after a quick one in his private shower, you left the subject there beside your recently relocated shampoo bottle. There hadn’t really been any other mentions of it before now, and that was over a year ago – maybe fourteen months? But, in the occasional instance of space whilst waiting for evac, your mind had considered seeing Price at the end of an aisle or even sat a registrar’s office in smart civvies. Gaz had caught you smiling to yourself once and teased you about it for two weeks after.

It took until your boots were reunited on the floor that you resurfaced from your racing train of thought. You stood up as elegantly as you could, even though John’s gaze was resolute on your face, watching and waiting for your response. Well, here it was.

“And,” You began unbuckling your belt, “What if I wanted to carry you to our bed on our wedding night?”

God. His face.

The shock took a split second to wear off. Spreading across his face like the rising sun was that smile, close-lipped with scrunched up eyes, like he was watching you open a present he knew you were bound to love almost as much as he loved you. Absolutely cheesing away at you, and it made you feel like your bones were gonna collapse from under you.

“Did you think of that?” You added.

“Can’t say I did,” John shook his head, keeping his warm eyes on you, “But, if that’s the case, you better join me with the weightlifting then, Lieutenant Price-to-be.”

“Love this assumption I’m taking your name.” That retort came quick. You were still a little immune to his charms.

“Why, you keeping yours?” He sounded cocky, and it would’ve been even more effective if he wasn’t reaching out for you to return into his arms whilst you removed his shirt from the laundry and slid into it.

Once you spotted his stance, you stepped back into his grasp, both your hands cradling his jaw, “Was thinking double-barrelled, or you can take mine.”

“Then I’d really be all yours.”

“And everyone would know it.”

He was making you swoon with his stare again, so much so that you had to hold his face and rest your forehead against his to ground yourself. Closer to the sun but it never burnt you - and he never looked at his stupid paperwork like that.

He whispered to you, “Guess what.”

“What?” You waited as he leant around and pursed his lips against your ear.

“I’m still putting you on toilet duty.”

The wheeze from his chest erupted with a splutter at your gawking then shielded his face from your indignant smacks, pushing him so that he was flat on his back.

“You bastard! You’re so mean to me!” You cried, trying to kneel over his hips to pin him down. Instead you were just sat upon him and that definitely wasn’t a bad thing in John’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” He stroked over both your thighs, “How can I make it up to you?”

And, while he did look delicious lying there, burning cheeks and beaming up at you, he’d just sealed his fate.

“By getting some shut eye ASAP, and taking your future spouse off toilet duty.”

The downfall of Captain Price: caught in a trap of his own design. He’d be pissed if he wasn’t also proud. Though, of course, he never went without a final negotiation in his favour:

“Only if you stay.”

Ignoring the urge to joke about walking back to your room in just your underwear, you agreed to his terms. He looked pleased as punch laying beneath you; such a shame that you had to get off him to get under the covers on your designated side of the bed. John followed you over your territory for a little bit, kissing away the sting of his jape, before switching the bedside lamp and settling down for the evening. At last!

So, of course, that was when the coffee you chugged earlier kicked in alongside the karma for knocking and entering without waiting.

But then a snore buzzed from John’s side of the bed. So, as he snuggled up beside you, a hand instinctively brushing up against you, that cross to bear was accepted for the sake of your future husband.

#John price x reader #john price imagine #john price oneshot #john price fanfic #cod fanfic #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 oneshot #captain john price x reader #my writing #r: gn #wc: >2k #cod x you #mw2 fanfic

462 notes · View notes

mlmxreader · 4 months

Text

Are You Ready? | John Price x gn!reader (🍋)

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Price

35 “One of my biggest regrets was not telling you how much I loved you sooner” ❞

: ̗̀➛ Price is finally home, and you can't quite believe it.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, anal fingering, dry humping, dirty talk, Daddy kink, praise kink

: ̗̀➛ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You fidgeted uncomfortably in your bed, tossing and turning all night whilst the television continued to play quietly, bathing the entire room in a dull blue light; beside you, Price hardly even stirred, hardly even paused as he slept so soundly beside you.

Completely and utterly knocked out from recently coming home from deployment; he was exhausted, in all honesty, but who could blame him?

When he had spent days looking into the eyes of boys hardly older than fifteen, blank and lifeless stares glaring into his soul; when he spent hours hunched over a desk and writing letter after letter to mothers and fathers, telling them that their babies had died. That their babies who would never return home to loving embraces, to hot home cooked meals and to soft, kind and loving words.

When he had spent days marching in mud up to his knees, blisters on his feet, sores on his legs and burns on his fingertips; endless miles of mud, with only rats, fleas and lice to keep him company. After all of that, who could ever say that he was to blame for being so tired, for being so fucking exhausted?

Who could ever say that he was to blame?

But unlike Price, you couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that you were upset, or that you were tormented by anything, but it was the mere fact that you were just so happy to have him home; you were fucking giddy to have him home, you just couldn’t settle down. It was uncomfortable to lie in bed, but it was so good to have Price home at last.

All you wanted to do was jump on him and scream in his face about how much you had missed him; but you knew that he needed to rest, so you did try and keep yourself a little bit calmer than what you would have wanted. But you couldn’t believe it.

You felt him shift beside you, a harsh groan coming from the back of his throat as his hand drifted down, grabbing your ass and pulling you flush against his body.

“I missed you,” Price grumbled sleepily, pulling you on top of him and gently rocking his hips against you. “Y’know that, right?”

Your hands went to his chest as you pushed back against him, nodding as a breathy moan left your lips. “Four years tomorrow, baby… four years together, and I miss you more and more every time.”

He pushed his hips up against you, grinding. “Four years, and one of my biggest regrets was not telling you how much I loved you sooner.”

You swallowed thickly, pushing down your pyjama bottoms to expose yourself to him, moaning softly when he slipped his ring and middle fingers into your ass, slowly pumping them in and out as you whimpered for him to keep going. “John… fuck…”

“You like that?” He breathed out, and when you agreed, he picked up the pace. Fucking you with his fingers as he felt you clamp down around his thick fingers. “‘M gonna fuck you and fill that pretty little ass… make you so fuckin’ full…”

“Unf!” You squeezed your eyes tightly shut for a moment, hips bucking as you ground down against his fingers, your mouth falling agape and giving him the perfect excuse to capture your mouth with his.

Sucking your tongue before grabbing the back of your neck and harshly grinding against you; you could only whimper, so needy and desperate for him that all your words seemed to fail so miserably, so terribly.

All you could think about was how good his cock would look buried inside your ass, slick with lube and hammering into you; how good his cock would feel as it stretched you until you could hardly take it anymore, until you were sobbing and biting down on the bedsheet as it became wet and squelched with your spit and tears.

“You thinkin’ about it?” Price huffed, gently nibbling at your neck. “How good my cock would look as I bend you over and fuck you… you’re gonna look so good when I stuff you full of my cum… you’re gonna look so good…”

You let out a harsh breath, shuddering against him as you felt it wash over you; your legs shook harshly, thighs trembling as you bucked against him and allowed yourself to let loose at last. Sharp short breaths coming from your mouth as you fucked yourself against his fingers. Your eyes shut tightly, you could feel yourself coming undone as you thought more about it.

The slapping of skin, the smell of sex filling the room, the sounds of grunts and growls and soft whimpers. The feeling of his skin on yours; Price grumbled softly under his breath, slipping his hand to you and letting your cum coat his skin as he tilted his head back slightly.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised softly. “Cum for me, c'mon.”

“D-Daddy,” you gasped out, trying to fuck yourself against him even more desperately, wanting to feel it all over again. “Please… please… wanna… wanna cum twice…”

“Oh, baby,” he breathed out, pulling his fingers from your ass and flipping you onto your back. He settled between your legs, his hands on your thighs as he grinned tiredly. “Do you want my cock, now?”

You nodded desperately, mouth agape and drool slipping from the corner. “Please…”

“Yeah?” He whispered, gently tracing your jaw. “You sure you can take it?”

“John,” you growled softly, tugging at him. “Please don't be a tease…”

Licking his lips, Price smiled down at you, attacking your neck as he kissed and bit and sucked at the skin until you were bucking your hips against him, begging for him. “Four years together, and you've never been hotter than you are right now.”

You laughed softly, playfully slapping his chest and rolling your eyes fondly. “Four years, and I've never wanted you to fuck me as much as I need you to right now.”

“I see your point,” he growled out, palming at himself for a moment. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

105 notes · View notes

dream0fschism · 1 year

Note

Could you please write a Price x wife! Reader where they have a really hot make out session?

because you asked so nicely... of course, darling.

nsfw! 18+ below! not sex but a lil sm sm... i'm ngl i can't write just a kiss.

i'm too nasty i think

You and your husband had never really enjoyed attending dinner parties. But because you were both so polite, the two of you had never missed a single one. Well, neither of you were ever in the mood to have your ear chewed off for saying 'no' to an invitation.

Your friend would only whine, anyway, say "But John's always away on call. We've all got to make memories together when we can!"

As if you weren't blatantly aware of your husband's frequent absences already.

"You know, we could be doin' this at home," John chuckles, following you into the bathroom and clicking the door shut behind him.

Immediately, you pounce towards him - making an accidental, louder-than-intended thud as you pressed him into the door and wrapped your arms around his neck. You both giggle like mischievous children.

"Mm, you're right. We've been saying we'll stop coming for years," you say, as his forearms encircle your waist. "I don't think we're posh enough for them, love."

"Fuck 'em."

Your lips meet soon after, in sloppy and lazy pecks as neither of you are in a rush to get back out there and converse. John's arms have a vice-like grip around your waist, but they loosen as your kiss intensifies so he can cuff a hand at the back of your neck.

You squeak at the sensation. He squeezes the spot lovingly, before he slithers his fingers upwards and scrunches at the base of your hair. When he uses your hair to tilt back your head, he leans over you further as if it would help him explore deeper with the tongue he presses into your mouth.

Your hands are no longer locked behind his neck, sliding down his chest as you weaken under his grasp and succumb to the warm feeling of your battling tongues.

John pinches at your butt with his other hand then, chuckling cheekily when you pull apart momentarily to catch your breaths. And you respond by slamming your mouths back together, teeth almost clashing against one another in your desperate movement.

The hand on your ass doesn't shift, and you reach to pull John forward by the shoulders and hook your leg around his waist. It causes you both to stumble, but you knew your skilled husband would always catch your fall. He does, but soon taps at your leg for you to put it back down, before he walks you towards the bathroom counter and lifts you onto it with little to no effort.

Situated between your legs, he connects your lips once again and uses a hand to caress your cheek.

The pooling heat between your legs slowly becomes more and more evident, and you squeeze John's hips between each of your plump thighs in search of a shred of relief.

When your mouths part, he speaks low, voice hoarse and gravelly with arousal. "Fuck, sweet. We can't keep doing this..." You watch the risks being weighed in his face, before he shakes his head and makes his decision. His eyes flick onto yours, whilst he presses three of his fingers to his tongue and coats them in saliva.

You quickly widened your legs, biting onto your lip as his hand slips beneath your dress and hooks beneath the lace covering your pussy. Fingers press between your folds and immediately find your clit, which Johnny begins to rub with desperation. You know he needs to make this quick, doesn't want to make you both look suspicious, but you can't bring yourself to give a fuck about anything outside of the four walls of the bathroom, not when his skilled fingers are stroking at your spit-soaked cunt the way they are.

John kisses you once again, swallows each sound you make as he uses the hand on your cheek to graze over your cheekbone with his thumb.

"Guys? Hello? Are you in there together? I need to piss!"

Fuck.

You were never going to another fucking dinner party again.

#john price #John price mw2 #price mw #price mw2 #price smut #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x you #john price oneshot #mw2 oneshot #john price is a daddy idc

661 notes · View notes

midnightcrw · 4 months

Note

What about Simon and the 141 boys meeting Daisy's new boyfriend? How would that go?

New Boyfriend

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon and the TF141 meet Daisy's (Simon's daughter) new boyfriend.

a/n: Sorry for taking so long to write this, I just had a tiring day, but at least I'll be able to write more now.

"I don't like him," Simon declared, glaring at Daisy's new boyfriend as if he'd just kicked a puppy.

"Oh, come on. You just met him today." You tried to convince him that her boyfriend, Noah, wasn't that bad. At least from what you had seen so far.

While the two of you were in the kitchen, Soap, Price and Gaz were sitting in the living room, arms crossed as they examined Daisy and Noah sitting next to each other.

Noah looked nervous, you could almost see him sweating from a distance as you held Simon back.

Since Daisy's last boyfriend, Simon didn't want her to get close to anyone again, fearing that she would get her heart broken like the last time.

"Why are they here, anyway?" You raised an eyebrow in confusion, not knowing why Soap, Price and Gaz had come to your house without informing you beforehand.

Your husband's eyes didn't even leave Noah's as he replied. "I invited them."

"I'm not helping you bury a body."

"That's why they're here."

"Simon!" You yelled at him in a whisper as you slapped his arm. Not even knowing if he meant it or not.

While you were quietly arguing with him, Price was having a interrogation conversation with Noah. "What are your intentions with her?"

Noah's hands were visibly shaking as Daisy tried to calm him down by putting her hand in his, "No touching in this religious household!" Price warned in a gruff voice, causing Daisy to immediately remove her hand from her boyfriend's.

"I-I just really like Daisy and want to make her happy..." Noah muttered, his face growing paler by the second as Soap rolled his eyes and Gaz cleared his throat to speak.

"How much money have you got?"

"Uncle!"

"I'm only asking the important questions!" Gaz defended himself as Soap and Price nodded in agreement. All of them looking sternly at Noah.

"But that's not even important!" Daisy tried to interject.

"You'll know what's important once you have to pay taxes! Economy has been wild!" Gaz didn't even try to be gentle with her.

Before an argument could break out between the two, you and Simon sat down after you smacked your husband on the back of his head and said you didn't want to go to jail just yet.

The moment Noah saw Simon, his eyes widened in fear as he bit his lower lip, almost drawing blood from it.

The silence was uncomfortable as you all waited for someone to speak, and before anyone tried to say something wrong, you spoke up.

"It's great to finally meet you. Daisy's been talking about you a lot," you smiled at him as you saw Daisy blush.

With that, Noah seemed to relax a little, "Oh, that's good to know," he became quieter, staring at Simon with fear in his eyes.

Frowning, you looked at Simon, seeing him with a knife in his hands, obviously trying to intimidate and scare Daisy's boyfriend away.

"Put the knife away!" You whispered, but his eyes were still fixed on Noah.

Seeing his reluctance, you put your hand over his which was holding the hilt tightly and slowly pushed it down, hiding the knife away from Daisy's sight, as she and Gaz were having a staring contest.

"It was so good to have you over," you said, and before you realized it, Noah was out of your sight. He was probably sprinting to his house in fear of your husband and the TF141.

"I can't believe you asked him that!?" Daisy's shouting voice could be heard throughout the house.

"I just don't want you to end up poor! Be grateful you insolent child!" Gaz shouted back as Soap watched the two of them eating the cookies you had left on the coffee table.

544 notes · View notes

sgtgarricks · 2 months

Text

afab!reader

i think john price would be sooo incredibly oblivious to your advances to the point it pisses you off.

imagine you've had a crush on your captain for a few months now, you've dug around information and find out that yes, he is single.

so you get to work.

you smile at him whenever you see him (the only other person you usually smile at is soap). you try to stay later than usual to catch him leaving just so you can have a few minutes of extra conversation with him.

you're kind of touchy (but not too much), brushing your fingers with him whenever you get the chance. whenever you get called into his office, you make sure to crack a joke or two, just to see his eyes crinkle.

you were down bad for him. like, really bad. whenever he even slightly smiles or praises you, you preen like you just won a gold medal and your face feels hot.

so, you genuinely don't understand how he seems so unfazed?? at the very least he should've felt something was up and rejected you if he wasn't into it. but nope, he's still smiling at you, ruffling your hair.

okay, you think maybe you're being too subtle. it's been three months and there isn't any response.

you begin to bring him little gifts. nothing expensive or big, trinkets that would fit in your pocket. a little keychain of a cigar, a pin of his favorite football club, packets of his favorite coffee flavor.

"oh, what's this for then?" he'd asked, glancing at the little keychain.

"nothin'. just saw it and reminded me of you!" you grin happily. he still seems confused, but accepts your gift anyway.

"thank you, that's very kind of you :)" he gifted you one or two items, even going as far to let you ride shotgun on missions. you were feeling fairly optimistic.

this goes on for another three months, you bringing him something once every two weeks. it's gotten to the point where even soap and gaz have realized what's up (simon doesn't give a fuck).

"you got favorites now? don't think we've ever received a gift from 'em gaz." soap loves to make fun of your infatuation with price. gaz doesn't start anything, but he'd gladly chime in.

after half a year, you're pissed off. because how has he not said anything yet?? you thought he was starting to catch your drift but apparently not. he was either leading you on or genuinely thinks you were just being friendly.

you're over the top now, even simon's cringing slightly at you blatantly gushing over the captain.

you were linking your arm with his if you two walked somewhere together (his forehead did the little scrunch from confusion but didn't say anything).

anytime he wanted to show you something, you'd come around and stand as close to him as possible. one time you even put your head on his shoulder to read the document.

even your jokes had gotten more flirtatious without being overtly sexual. yet still... nothing.

you were pissed. you've been throwing yourself at him every chance you got, any more you'd get written up for fraternization. the next time all of you go out for drinks at the pub, you decide it's do or die.

you put on your best dress, one that hugs your figure nicely. you even do your hair and put a bit of make up on. tonight was the night you were either going to have your heart broken or have a good time.

when you open the door to the pub, you know gaz spots you first judging by the drink he just spat. soap turns and whistles, laughing loudly (simon didn't come). you see price is missing, but you find him at the bar ordering drinks. you slink next to him.

"another one for me?" he spins at the sound of your voice, eyes going wide for a fraction of a second. he coughs and brings up another finger to the bartender.

"you look..." he begins, you inch yourself forward to hear him better and shove something in his face. "different." the smile instantly drops from your face. you pull him away from the bar easily (he let you) and drag him outside.

"why are we out here?" he questions innocently. you huff, not believing the audacity of this man in front of you.

"captain. with all due respect, i don't know how many more signs i can give you before i lose my mind. i have my tits out," you gesture at them and his eyes falls downwards before going back to your face, "and you haven't even looked once."

"i like you, you can kiss me right now or tell me to fuck off and transfer me." you cross your arms, lips turning down into a frown. he was in shock, you can almost physically see a loading bar on top of his head.

to your surprise, he cups your face and leans down to kiss you. your heart was thumping and mouth slightly agape, but the only response you could think of was, "were you really that oblivious?"

"sorry, love. i thought you were just trying to ride shotgun." he grins.

what an idiot (affectionate).

notes: ahfudshf my stupid old man <3

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #cod fic #john price #john price drabble #john price fic #captain john price fic #john price oneshot #cod x reader #john price fluff

578 notes · View notes

ghostandsoap · 9 months

Text

Double-Sided

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

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

Word Count: 4.8k

“I would’ve if you had let me.”

She had been at it for hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d say it suits you.” He shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.”

Shit.

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

“Ghost. Get her.” Price ordered immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave him. He’s not going anywhere.”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Peach.” He kept a neutral tone.

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

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

“Captain.” She said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least we’re back to first names.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#john price #john price x reader #john price x fem! reader #john price x female reader #john price x 'peach'#john price x you #john price x y/n #john price angst #john price oneshot #john price one shot #john price oneshots #john price one shots #john price imagine #john price imagines #john price fanfiction #cod mw2 #MW2 #mw2 fanfiction #ghostandsoap

562 notes · View notes

soapybutt17 · 2 months

Text

Baby Mama

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

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Little Katherine still asleep?” He inquired.

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

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

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

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

You giggled nudging him slightly at this comment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for acting low key about his relationship.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

591 notes · View notes

thewulf · 23 days

Note

Hey love this might be a dark request. But one I've been needing however feel free to not write this or write it in a happier version for yourself. Who this fic is with I'm torn between John price, gaz, or aragon lmao. But let's get to it. 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. "maybe it was my fault" "maybe I'm being sensitive" "it's my fault". How I came to terms of it being sexual assault was due to my mother and best friend telling me it was after I came to them about it. I just need comfort you know? Despite my family knowing, like most my issues a lot of things are brushed aside and I feel invalidated, which causes me to seek validation getting me into such problems. So I just need a hug and confirmation that I have someone. Even if fictional.

Have a lovely month hun, you deserve good things❤️🤗

Aww love I'm so sorry that happened to you :( people can be so cruel... but I can certainly write something comforting/sweet for you.

This one is giving big John Price energy. Idk he always seems like such a big teddy bear for the right person. Here's what I'm thinking - feel free to message me if you don't like the direction!

Captain Price has always had a soft spot for you (I'm thinking reader is 25-30 while Price is 35-38). You'd joined TF 141 a few years prior as their tech specialist (kinda like Penny from criminal minds!). You went on missions with them but didn't always go into the field. There so happened to be a mission you weren't required to go on so the guys packed up and shipped out. When they got back Price noticed something off with you immediately. Shying away from him and his usual touches you loved so much. Kinda keeping your head down when he/the guys are speaking. Not speaking up or bantering them as usual.

After a week of your odd behavior he finally decides he needs to talk to you. He catches you after a training session and the comfort insues. Kinda feel like reader has to breakdown and he builds her back up kinda thing. Hella heavy but supppper comforting/sweet at the same time.

Thank you for trusting me with your request! <3

43 notes · View notes

midnightarcheress · 1 month

Text

cowgirl

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

three minutes and forty-seven seconds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2K notes · View notes