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#captain john price x gender neutral reader
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Grumpy!Reader
This is the masterlist of all of the Grumpy!Reader Drabbles. This reader is gender neutral and with John Price.
Your Kid Throws Their Ball into John Price's Backyard
John Price Meets Your Kid
John Price Taking You and Your Kid to a Fair
John Price Meets Your Ex
Call to the Headteacher's Office
Your Kid Calling John Price "Dad"
John Price Asking Your Kid Permission to Marry You
The Proposal
This masterlist is possibly ending soon! (I think all I have to do is write the wedding & that'll be it, unless someone requests for it.)
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COD men and what article of clothing of theirs they prefer to see you in.
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John Price is an elegant gentleman, he loves putting his coat over your shoulders when you're cold. He always holds it for you to help you put it on, and he adjusts the collar as his fingers gently brush against your neck. His coat is big, warm and it smells like him, and he adores the way you burrow yourself into it. During the colder months, he keeps an extra jacket in his car that he can wear if he gives you the one he had on, and if you fall asleep while you're not at home, John always gently lays his coat over you like a blanket. 
Simon “Ghost” Riley is an absolute sucker for the way you look in his hoodies, and although he never says it out loud, he gets a certain look in his eyes that speaks a thousand words in his place. They're oversized even on him, and they fit his style perfectly: black with the occasional skull/edgy design of some sorts. He especially loves it if your style is even just a little bit different from his, the contrast makes him melt. He never asks you to wear his hoodies, but he does leave them lying around in a way that is very obvious.
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish goes feral every single time he sees you in his boxers. It doesn't even have to be sexual, just the intimacy of it makes him go wild. It's something that you simply don't share with anyone else, sure, someone else might lend you their jacket, but no one else but him can lend you something as intimate as his boxers. If you also wear boxers he is more than happy to trade, if you don't, he will not so jokingly insist that his underwear is way more comfortable than whatever you're wearing.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick puts his signature cap on your head every time he isn't wearing it or he isn't on a mission. It's the most him thing he owns, and he thinks there's something incredibly intimate (and attractive) about seeing you wearing it. He's sharing with you the one thing he wears that truly feels like it represents him, and he'd love it if you did the same for him. Sometimes he helps you put it on almost reverentially, other times, he pulls the visor over your eyes and chuckles like it's the funniest thing in the world.
Alejandro Vargas loves when you wear his shirts. It's a bit of a classic, but he loves the difference between how they look on him, tight and accentuating his muscles, and how they look on you, with the neckline wide enough for small flashes of your collarbones to peek out. Wear his shirt as a dress, even just once, and he will never shut up about how much of a breathtaking sight you make. He subconsciously starts buying colours he thinks will suit you, and the wide grin he gets when he sees you in them could light up an entire city.
Rodolfo Parra prefers to give you the most comfortable, cozy clothes he owns. It can vary from a warm sweater, to comfortable joggers, to a loose T-shirt. Whatever makes you feel the most at home is immediately transferred from his wardrobe and into yours. And if you prefer it when they still smell of him, he'll either take the care of wearing them just to give them back to you, or give you a bottle of his perfume that you can spray on whenever you want to. Most of all, he has a gigantic soft spot for seeing you in an article of clothing that has sentimental value and meaning to him.
Phillip Graves loves to give you clothes that are very easily recognisable as his, like the blue button ups that he always wears. He adores seeing how comfortable you look in them while you wear them at home, maybe paired with high socks. And he adores it even more when you style them properly to wear them outside the house, in a way that makes it clear that you're happy to let everyone know who your man is. Either way, his eyes are glued to you for the whole day while you are wearing his shirts, a smug smile on his face.
König always gives you small pieces of himself, small things that remind you of him but that are subtle enough not to bring other people's attention to it. He likes that it's something only the two of you know about, something you keep for yourselves. The things he gives you always change, it could be a ring one day, then a necklace, a scarf, or even a bag. And in the privacy of your home, he adores seeing you in his mask, as he shares the intimate part of himself he never shares with anyone else.
Alex Keller literally gives you free reign over his closet. Everything that is his is yours as well, you don't even have to ask. He'll even change his outfit for the day if he sees you wearing something he was planning on putting on. When he goes shopping, he often asks you to accompany him, so that you can help him choose the pieces that you think would look best on him, and also the pieces that he knows you'll want to steal later. He also adores wearing his clothes after you've borrowed them, your smell still lingering comfortingly on them.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 months
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Constantly thinking of how John Price made his baby and toddler daughters cry..
You just sat there, trying your hardest not to laugh at your husband's regret and pained painted face as your baby's pout grows. Her little eyes squint as she took a deep breath before letting it out in a cry, you took her into your arms and away from where she sat on her dad's chest.
Gently patting your little princess's back as you snicker, wiping the tears form in your eyes. Your other daughter, now hiding behind your leg, gripping your pants for dear life, taking peeks at the "stranger". Poor baby didn't even recognize her father's voice, so distracted by the anomaly on his face.
"That's dada bumblebee, he just looks–" you pause with a giggle "—a tiny bit different.." With a huge pout still on her face, the chubby cheeked one looked up at you tear stained face, aggressive nose breathing to take a look at her dad again. She only faced you with despair, her face contorting back to an ugly cry.
He knows not to take it to heart but maybe it's best not to shave all of his facial hair next time.. anymore.. for the rest of his life..?
My CoD Masterlist
Edit: This was so last minute AHAHA
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld
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mikichko · 6 days
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just waking up delirious from a nap but cant get rid of the idea of price being interrogated by your friends.
night after your housewarming party, he steps out of your room bare chested and sweatpants low on his hips and finds your friends waiting for him.
they’ve never seen or heard of this man before. you only introduced him last night as john. the only indication of anything between the two of you was a constant point of contact between you two all night.
the questions start right away. name, age, occupation, how you met, what his intentions are. it’s all very entertaining to him, being on the other side of an incredibly juvenile interrogation attempt.
he takes it in stride though, not faltering for a moment as he starts to make himself a cup of coffee. price. ignores the age question, honestly kids these days lack decency and decorum. government worker. met at a bar. just trying to be a good man.
they don’t miss the way he doesn’t fumble through your kitchen. instead, moving through it with precision, knowing where every single item is.
and then finally, “what are you to them?” asked by the one in the back with curls, broad shoulders, and anger in his eyes that warms price all throughout. he doesn’t know he’s already lost.
he takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over the question and the last few months. shared drinks in the dark corner of an already shady pub. carrying your groceries in after you nearly tripped over yourself walking out of the store. books traded back and forth on park benches adorning a pond. stories repeated over a hot plate of dinner, the warmth softening john just a little more. your nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around him, his mouth peppering kisses against your neck and mouthing words he can’t say out loud just yet.
he smiles against the rim of the cup, taking another swig.
“i’m, their caretaker.”
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d0youc0py · 10 months
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Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)
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“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.
“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.
“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it’s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”
“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.
“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”
“He’s a strange man.” He responded.
“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.
“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.
“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.
•••
That turned out to be a fat lie.
“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”
“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”
“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.
“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.
“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.
“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.
“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.
“Not like that.” You said.
“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.
“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.
“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.
“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.
“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.
“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.
“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.
“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.
“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:
“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”
You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.
“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.
Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.
“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.
“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.
“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.
“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.
“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”
“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.
When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.
“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.
He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.
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He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.
He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.
“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.
“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.
“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.
“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.
“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.
“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”
He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.
“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”
“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”
“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.
“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-
“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.
“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.
He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.
And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.
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He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.
Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.
“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.
In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.
“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-
You couldn’t even get through the story.
“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”
“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.
“Should go back there and”-
“No.” You huffed.
“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”
“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.
“Should make it so he only has one hand.”
“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”
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“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.
“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.
“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”
“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”
A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.
“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.
“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”
He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.
“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.
“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.
“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.
He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”
“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.
“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.
“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.
“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.
The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.
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“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.
“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”
“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.
“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.
“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.
“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.
“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.
“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.
“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.
Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.
“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”
Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.
“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”
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imaginesheaven · 1 year
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Funny moment with TF 141
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*on the way to the mission in the car*
(Y/N): *turns on music*
(Y/N): *sings* Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
Gaz: *joins you* So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
(Y/N): I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah
Soap, Gaz & (Y/N): If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Ghost: *sits between singing Gaz and Soap* …
Soap, Gaz & (Y/N): Make it last forever, friendship never ends
Ghost: … I really want to get out …
Price: *drives* Sorry, buddy, (Y/N) won the bet.
Ghost: …
Soap, Gaz & (Y/N): If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give! Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is!
Ghost: … *tries not to cry*
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ghouljams · 2 months
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“#distribution system is a pillow Princess/sub!ghost fic”
😳 h-holy shit. I think the world went white when I read this. Like a flash bang went off. Oh my god.
You hold his face between your hands, your thumbs gently stroking over his scarred cheeks. Your eyes are so soft, they look at him like he's something fragile, something precious. Ghost holds your wrists like a lifeline, desperately begging to be grounded in this moment. Your lips move without sound, he wishes he could hear it, could hear your voice like the trumpets of revelations. The light shines behind your head like a halo, it must be a halo, divinity shining through your skin. Everything hurts.
"Stay with me," He begs, his throat dry and his bones aching.
"Of course," You pet over his buzzed hair, your voice as soft as early spring, "I'm not going anywhere."
You kiss his temple, let him settle his hands on your waist and lean into the touch, hungry for it. You're not going anywhere. He's not either, this is the last stop. He can just be here. Ghost traces his fingers over your skin with reverence, his eyes on yours as you tip his head back. It's good, you're finally in your rightful place over him, larger than life in all your kindness. He could let you swallow him whole, he wishes you would. Then he could be a part of you, a part of something worthwhile, something good and kind. Whatever he's done in life-
"Stay with me Simon," You murmur, as if he'd ever want to be anywhere else. Of course, he wants to echo, of course. You lean to brush your lips over his cheek, it hurts, white hot just under his eye. You slice your line through him, ask again, your voice so distant and yet so close beside his ear, "Stay with me."
His lips move around your name, breathe in, exhale. His hands hold you, drag over your skin as he tips his head to press his lips against your neck. Can he have this? Is this allowed? Are apostles meant to worship their god through such sinful means? He slides his hand between your legs, rubbing his fingers through the wet heat he finds there. You're so soft.
You whine, such a pretty noise, and he kisses you again. He mumbles your name against your skin, traces his lips against your pulse, desperate to feel your life. Everything he does is for you, every breath he takes, every beat of his heart, each blink, each touch of his fingers. Nothing matters to him like you do. You're so warm, dripping over his hand, the noises your sweet pussy make when he presses his fingers into you are perfect, and obscene.
"My Simon," You breathe, "You're so good for me." It hurts between his ribs, cracks his sternum, you could take him apart with so many words. "You never tell me what you want," You coo, "Never ask for anything."
"Want to make you come," He mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain of it, he doesn't deserve to ask for your love, but he can approximate it, "want to be useful to you."
"You are, Simon," You whisper, he jerks against you at the jolt that goes through him, "because I love you."
It spins in his mind like tires stuck in mud. It's not right. He wants it too badly for it to be right. You couldn't. Even when he was leaving you couldn't. Ghost swallows. It's cold in here.
He blinks his eyes open to a hospital ceiling. Everything hurts. He reaches his hand to feel whatever is covering his left eye with a grunt of pain. His fingers twitch and another sharp jolt of pain zips through him.
"I wouldn't," Price tells him. Ghost turns his head to look at him, adjusting to the new blind spot. He's sitting in an arm chair beside the hospital bed, his chin perched on his palm, fingers curled over his mouth and leg bouncing. Ghost wonders how long it's been since his last cigar. Price sniffs. "Down two fingers, gonna hurt for a while."
Ghost turns his head to look back at the ceiling. The fluorescents buzz, a whine only he ever seems able to hear. At least the sky would've been a nice thing to end on.
"Nearly lost you on the table," Price continues, Ghost can hear him standing, "I'll let the nurse know you're up."
Ghost swallows again, tries to feel his tongue in his mouth, so dry it may as well glue itself to his teeth. "Where's my wife," He croaks. Price's footsteps stop, something heavy falling over the air. There are a thousand things he could say, a thousand comforts he could offer.
"You're not married," He tells him, and leaves.
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emeraldborealis · 2 months
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For the Record
Pairing: Ex-husband John Price x GN!reader
TW//CW: Mention of manipulation, John trying to change, slight suggestiveness, nothing serious though.
A/N: I do plan on making this a mini-series but I'm getting surgery so I'm not sure when I'll be able to make a part two and put out.
Words: 3,185
You are currently reading Chapter one
The Do-Over Series Masterlist - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five
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This was possibly the worst idea in your entire life. You've known fools who have made better decisions.
But it's John. And it's you. Who are we really kidding here? Five years of being divorced and you haven't even been on a single date with someone else.
So when you conveniently ran into each other and he suggested it, you couldn't say no.
What are you even doing with your life? You groaned, pulling at your face in stress. "For the record this is self destructive." You wandered your house, making sure everything was clean and in place, no dust or cobwebs lingering in corners. He didn't need to know how long it'd been since someone last came over. He'd call you a hermit again.
"For the record I am aware of that. Come on, don't go crying to your mom like a child when this inevitably breaks your heart. Again. She doesn't want to hear about it." It's always been a bad habit of yours to talk to yourself, John always found it amusing.
Adjusting the pillows on your couch for the fifth time your eyes caught a glimpse of an old stain, bringing back one too many memories for your liking. Skin, all skin, laying like a French girl waiting to be painted, or Princess Leia in her stupid bikini. But there was no bikini, just John and his stupid hat.
"Enough of that." You nearly had to slap the thought out of yourself. "I'm screwed."
No, no. You weren't screwed. All you need to do is keep your composure. Remember why this didn't work out last time. Keep yourself together. Don't ever let him know you miss him. There would be no recovery from that.
What was the reason you agreed to this again?
He lied last time. He manipulated you. You were too young to know better. Now you do. All you  have to do is use each of his answers to these 'questions' he wanted to ask you as a reminder of what he'd done. Keep your head out of his hands.
He did seem remorseful for what he did. He actually apologized. Promised things would be different now. He said he missed you. "Stupid sympathetic creature." You cursed at yourself.
You couldn't even lie and say you didn't miss him too. His warmth, his bear hugs, how he'd listen to you and ask about your day. How he'd take an interest in you. No one else asked about your day. Or gave such damn good hugs. Not to mention kisses...
The questions will make one thing clear. How you've grown and changed. How you've grown apart. The person you are now probably isn't even compatible with him anymore. Too different. Not a good fit for who he was when you were together. You had boundaries now. Right?
The knock on your door had you nearly jumping out of your skin with nerves. He was here. Like, actually here. And he knocked. He knocked on the door that used to be the door to his house. That must have felt weird.
Opening the door to your ex husband standing there felt both like a dream and a nightmare.
"Hey." His voice was a little rougher than it used to be, probably from more yelling and smoking those damn cigars of his. You did have to admit it was almost hotter now.
This man was going to take you to an early grave. The worst part was that you were going willingly, letting him take your hand and gently help you down into the six foot deep hole you'd spent the last five years trying to dig yourself out of.
"Hey.." You forced your eyes to stay on his face, staring at his nose so you wouldn't have to make eye contact. You'd probably strangle yourself if you let your eyes wander over his broad shoulders and strong but soft torso and got caught. Keep your eyes on his face. Look at the cute mole on his nose. Look. At. It.
"What do you think?" He asked as he stepped into your house. Stepping past the threshold of what had been protecting you from all outside intrusion. Allowing the man who hurt you to walk right back into your life.
As he stepped past you, you couldn't stop your eyes from wandering over his back, drinking all of him in again. You hadn't gotten to the last time you saw him when he suggested this whole thing. He seemed more grown now, despite being the same height and roughly the same size, he just seemed different, more mature.
This whole thing was just to remind yourself you didn't want him back in your life. The last goodbye. This was how you were going to let the last fragments of yourself that still cared about him go. They were the only thing that was going to be left in that grave.
"Uh... About what?" You weren't even paying attention, not sure if you'd missed something he'd said. Stupid move to zone out like that really.
John chuckled, the sound filling your stomach with butterflies, a heat uncharacteristically rising to your face. You hated butterflies. Moths were superior, eating clothes was cooler than eating carcasses, and tasting with your feet was weird. "My flannel. You gave it to me, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. Anyways." You lead him to the kitchen, dishes set out haphazardly on the table that you'd gotten distracted from fully and properly plating. "I was going to set the table, placemats and all. But that seems a bit too fancy for what this is. I don't know what I was thinking. That's weird for the setting."
You went to grab the 'fancy' plates from the table, along with the placemats, but John stopped you, leaning his chest against your back he gently put his hands on yours, pulling them away from changing the tableware. "Leave it, love. Reminds me of a first date."
The feeling of his chest pressed against your back had you fully straightening your posture very quickly, almost as if he'd electrocuted you with his unexpected touch, accidently headbutting him in the process. 
He groaned, taking a step back and clutching his nose. "I'm so sorry." You fret in a panic, raising your hands to try and remove his to check on his poor nose, but you stopped yourself from touching him.
"It's fine, dear. I should have remembered your reactions to suddenness from when we were together." Sniffing, he pulled his hands away from his face. "Not bleeding. Just a good bonk, no harm done." He reassured, ruffling your hair, making you glare softly at him. He knew you hated that. Revenge, you suspected.
"Even still, I'm sorry." You apologized again, shuffling on your feet awkwardly. This wasn't going well. Definitely for the best.
"You have anything to drink? Maybe that would help." You weren't sure if he meant it'd help the pain or to help smooth out some rough edges between the two of you. Probably the ladder. You were tense, it didn't take a perceptive individual to take notice of that. However, you didn't drink anymore, so that would be pointless. He didn't know that though.
"Um." You had to think for a moment. "I don't drink anymore, but I might have something. Scotch? I think a friend left it here one time."
"Yeah, scotch works." He smiled softly at you, his crows feet becoming more visible. Damn he was cute. Was it derogatory to call a man of his caliber cute? Who cares.
"Okay, I'll go see if I can find it." You walked away from him a little too quickly for it to be casual, walking out into the garage to check for the scotch hiding in the fridge. Probably. You weren't actually sure this scotch existed.
By some miracle the scotch did exist, tucked safely in the back of the mostly empty garage fridge. You didn't even recognize the brand of scotch that was on the bottle, hopefully it wasn't terrible. Even if it was, that could be well deserved.
Walking back into the house you held the bottle of scotch a bit triumphantly. "There's a good chance this scotch is terrible." You placed it down on the counter, moving to grab him a glass.
"I'd settle for drinkable, love." He really needed to stop with the pet names. Your poor heart and constitution couldn't handle them. Not when his voice was so damn hot. It was criminal. Really.
"I make no promises, this friend of mine doesn't have a reputation for good taste." You poured him half a glass, was that too much?No. He could hold his alcohol well.
Not drinking for so long has completely skewed your ability to measure how much was too much.
Turning around you brought his glass over to the table, noticing something you had definitely not put there. "You lit candles?" You set his glass down by his plate, it was at the same spot of the table he used to eat. You hated that you'd retained that knowledge this whole time. And that you were still accommodating to that preference of his.
"I thought it'd help set the mood." He sat down at the table, taking a sip from the scotch. You took his lack of spontaneous vomiting as a good sign.
"What's 'the mood'?" You walked away from him, pulling dinner out of the oven. You really cooked a homemade dinner for your ex husband. Maybe you had lost your mind. Not to mention it was one of his favorite dishes. It was also really easy to make. Shepherd's pie. Not a personal favorite.
"Hopeful?" He chuckled, smiling at you again. The shepherd's pie did not go unnoticed by him. He noticed anything and everything. Damn his job. Damn him.
You didn't say anything, sitting down at the table before you served him, putting food on his plate for him, the proper amount for him. Old habits never dying and all that shit.
His smile softened towards you, watching your brow furrow in self frustration. He thought you were being really cute, all nervous and trying to keep walls up despite all your actions being to try to make him comfortable.
"Your hair is different. It suits you. I like it. Do you like it?" He refrained himself from touching your hair. It had changed in style over the five years of being out of contact. He felt this style suited you better, it was more you than anything you had while you were married to him. He'd never meant to control you the way he did.
"Oh, yeah. I do. I've had it like this for a while. You really like it?" You absentmindedly moved to touch your hair, fiddling with it. You didn't even think about what he might think of it. Moving past doing things because you thought it would please him. You were working on doing things for yourself. Something a self help book said to do.
"I wouldn't bring it up if I was just going to lie to you. It's cute." He seemed sincere enough. Maybe he did actually like it.
You watched a bit anxiously as he took the first bite of his food, hoping beyond hope you remembered how to make it how he liked. Closing his eyes he let out a soft hum of approval. It was good. He liked it. He wasn't gagging at least. Though he'd never gagged on your cooking, even when you burned soup. He still ate it and asked for seconds. He was always one to spare your feelings.
"It's good?" You couldn't stop yourself from asking, cursing the part of yourself that still required his approval and praise. Praise sounded really good right now. His voice praising you.
You needed to get out more, reconnect with nature. Maybe that would fix you. If not you could always simply choose to become a weird witch lady in the forest and never return to society.
"Of course. Always is." Something in his eyes told you he knew what you wanted from your question. "Best shepherd's pie I've ever had." He indulged you, taking another bite. If you weren't careful you'd find yourself married to him again without a single question asked. He couldn't have you again. Not after last time.
"Doubtful." He traveled a lot, ate a lot of different places. You were sure he'd found one better somewhere.
John took a deep breath, deciding not to argue on this. If you didn't want to believe him you didn't have to. He'd only done this to himself. Trust needed to be earned, not given. "So, how's work?" He changed the subject.
"Work? It's um... well it's work." You'd served yourself a much smaller portion, and it still felt like too much. You'd barely had three bites.
"That good huh?" He chuckled, trying to keep things light between you. He of all people knew how much work could suck sometimes. 
He did what he did because he was one of the few people who could. Got his hands dirty to keep people like yours clean. To try to make sure the people he cared about wouldn't be the next dead and bombed people on the news. He wasn't perfect. He knew that. His work had some fatal flaws. He knew that.
Better him doing it than someone who would follow orders blindly. Someone who was willing to go too far. Do too much. Make wrong decisions easily. Hurt the wrong people. John knew who was and wasn't his enemy.
"It's really not so bad. Keeps me busy. Helps me get out of the house. I like my coworkers. Pay is decent too, keeps me afloat well enough. Sometimes things get a little tight." Why did you admit that? He's going to get in, he's going to use that against you. Get you hooked on his leash again.
He looked at you for a moment, thinking before he began. "You struggle with money? If I would have known-"
"I can handle it. I don't need charity. Not your responsibility." You put an end to his offer before he could give it. You did not need something chaining you to him. Didn't need that reliance.
"Alright. I'll let you handle it." He backed down, trying not to put you on edge. He wasn't the same man he once was. His views on things had changed. Realized you only worked as a person when you didn't feel trapped or controlled. He wouldn't try to control you again.
Aside from getting back into your life that is.
"Thank you. Because I can handle it. Promise." You missed when your thoughts were wandering, that was more fun than this tension.
"If you came to me I'd always help you. Give you an easier life. I tried to give you an easier life, took care of everything for you. Made it so you didn't even need a job." He knew he shouldn't have said it as soon as the words left his mouth.
"It's depressing not having a job, I wanted a job. Staying at home and not working was only fun and enjoyable when you were home. Otherwise it was terrible for my mental health. I need to be doing something." He should have understood that aspect about you better, since he was the same way.
"All I wanted was to give you more time for your hobbies, you always complained you were too tired after work. All I wanted was to feel like I was providing for you. Like I was doing something nice for you. That I was working hard to provide for you so you could just relax." His intentions weren't rooted in your purposeful destruction, even still, it hadn't been a good situation for you.
"I'm not a self motivated person. I need something to do, a routine. It was fine when you were home because you would keep me accountable, but when you were away all I'd do was rot and wait and hope you'd come home alright. It wasn't healthy for me." In the middle of being at a standstill it's easy to feel guilt for not progressing. Especially when you were raised to work.
"I'm sorry." Apologies came from him so easily now. He really had matured. He would have never taken accountability for his part in things before. 
It wasn't all his fault. 
Still, between the two of you he was the one who should have known better.
"It's alright." Forgiveness was something you'd found to be quite freeing in recent years. Easier to move on from things. Not dwell on them so severely. This was different from being a pushover. You weren't just lying down and taking it. No, you held the control this way.
Looking down at his plate then your own you took a deep breath, sighing softly. You really weren't hungry enough to finish your food but you hated to waste. "Need help with that?" He took notice, because of course he did.
"Sure." You switched your plate with his, giving him his fork and taking your own. Standing up you took his plate to rinse it off and put it in the dishwasher. Starting to clean up dinner while he minimized waste for you. A human garbage disposal is what you used to call him teasingly.
Once he was done he brought your plate and put it in the dishwasher, getting to work on washing dishes while you put the food away. All too quickly slipping into old routines. This was not good. Keep your guard up.
When everything was clean and put away you refilled his scotch before you both migrated to the living room. The couch felt too intimate so you opted for the floor, resting your back against the couch.
This felt too much like your first date. But you knew that was the point, a do-over of sorts.
But this was different. It had to be different. That whole life was a lie.
You stared at him for a long time, he was sitting on the couch, his drink in his hand resting on his knee. He stared back, keeping eye contact. Damn this was not going to go well. His big soft eyes could not lure you into caring for him again.
That was a lie. They definitely could.
"So, we're asking thirty six questions? Is that what you said? Are we coming up with the questions or are they predetermined?" Finally you looked away from him, crawling over to push the button on the electric fireplace to turn it on, then immediately regretted it. Too romantic.
"Predetermined, love. I have a list for us to go through." If he kept up with the sappy pet names you were sure you were going to be rolling on the floor like a dog for him, begging to be loved and given attention again by the end of the night.
This can still work out for you. Keep your head on straight. Don't fall for his cheap tricks. This is still the man who manipulated you, even if he's apologized and asked for penance. If he wanted to, he could do it again. Don't let him.
"So then, should we begin?"
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obsessivelullabies · 2 months
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tf141 fighting over you.
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imagine you’re a combat medic, highly skilled and capable. you joined the army to help people. you wanted to make a difference, so you spent all your time trying to sharpen your skills.
after a few years of hard work, you were offered to join a new task force. task force 141, created by captain john price.
you knew this was the right career move for you. you knew you’d help people.
the first man you met was the captain himself, john price. he was gruff and serious, yet you could tell he was a good man. he wouldn’t say it, but john held you in high regards already. he admired your loyalty and dedication.
the second man you met was kyle ‘gaz’ garrick. your first mission was with him and price. gaz was immediately drawn to you and your nature, striking up conversation with you, asking about yourself and what you liked. you two became fast friends.
gaz was close to your age, so you felt comfortable around him. he was also very trustworthy, which made you relieved.
gaz fell for you first after a few weeks, he adored your personality and how gorgeous he found you, even if you were wearing your dirtied uniform. he wrote it off as a dumb little crush.
not long after, you met two men. first, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish. he was funny, flashy and confident. he’d immediately come off as flirtatious towards you, probably using some stupid pickup line.
second was simon ‘ghost’ riley. he had little to no interest in you at first. he knew you were a good worker, which he appreciated, but nothing more.
over the span of months, you and the men in your task force grew closer. you accomplished quite a lot. they’d all saved your ass multiple times.
price would start to fall for you seeing you take care of injured soldiers so kindly, even if you didn’t know them at all. he also loved your loyalty. you always tried to save someone, even if it was a dumb decision.
for soap, the flirty jokes were a joke until they weren’t. he thought you were so gorgeous and funny. you never got annoyed with him or wanted him to leave. you enjoyed his presence. the flirtation becomes more personal, more serious.
ghost definitely fell for you last. after a particularly rough mission, as you stitched up his arm and tried to comfort him, ghost felt something he hadn’t felt in years. being around you made him feel alive again.
at some point, the men all picked up on each other’s adoration for you. price would always try to help you and guide you, his way of showing his affection.
gaz would always be so thoughtful of your needs, like buying you a drink if you said you were thirsty. small gestures.
soap would openly flirt with you and touch you innocently, vying for any affection or flirting back.
ghost didn’t have a lot of experience with romancing someone. he honestly just stayed close to you and watched your back.
all the men became more and more forward. they needed you to choose someone, they couldn’t let this issue divide them.
if only you got the hint.
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does anyone want like a part two.. with like graves.. or laswell.. or alejandro.. ik they’re not tf141 but they do work with them.
masterlist! | unedited. | comments and reblogs appreciated! | make a request.
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tfmerc · 2 months
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What I imagine your camera roll looks like if you’re in a relationship with… John Price <3
fem version!! Price is def the type of guy to make it known that youse just fucked in the bathroom.
More bellow the cut :3
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Knight!Price
This is a masterlist of all of the Knight!Price Drabbles. This reader is gender neutral.
John Price Places Himself in Front of You to Take a Sword for You
The Festival of Creation/John Price Watching You Dance
This may not be a completed list (it may be expanded upon)!
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tarrynightss · 4 months
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Under Captain Price’s desk
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Synopsis: You give Price a blowjob underneath his desk, only for Soap to walk in. It would be better to stop before you get caught, but teasing Price is so much more fun
Warnings: Smut
Pairing: John Price x genderneutral reader
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One of Price’s hands is wound tightly in your hair, the other one gripping onto the edge of his desk like his life depends on it. You are seated underneath it, on your knees, your mouth sliding along his cock deliciously. The sinful sight of it alone has a flush appearing behind his beard. You shouldn’t do this, not right here in his office during the day, but Price was far too eager for your touch to stop you. Your eyes stare up at his, tears pricking at the corners when you take him deep into your throat, your hands bracing you against his muscular thighs. With the way his hips sputter up against your face you can tell he’s close, his face scrunched up in pleasure. All you hear are his soft groans before a knock startles you both.
Price pulls you off of his cock with lightning speed, quickly pushing you further underneath his desk and scooting himself closer to it as well. Your back is pressed against the wood of his desk, his cock smearing your own spit and his precum along your cheek as there is little space for either of you to move to. Your face is essentially sandwhiched against his crotch, but not without reason, as within seconds you hear the door to his office opening.
“I did not tell you you could come in,” Price says gruffly, trying to appear as casual as possible.
You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you realize you almost got caught on your knees in front of your captain. A shiver runs over your spine as you imagine what could’ve happened, the thought surprisingly not all that unpleasant…
A care-free laugh resounds through the room, and you quickly pinpoint it to be Soap’s. “Don’t be such a hard-ass cap, got those files you wanted.”
Price’s hand in your hair strokes you gently, clearly telling you to stay still as you hear footsteps approaching the desk. You really, really should, but another shiver of excitement runs through you as you turn your head slightly, smearing his cock over your lips. You can feel the muscles in his thighs flex under your fingers, the hand in your hair tightening in warning. A smile pulls at your lips as you move one hand to grip onto his cock, bringing the head directly against your mouth.
“Great,” Price coughs, covering up a surprised groan when your tongue flicks out to lick his tip. “Leave them here and I’ll look through them later.”
You hear the thick folder hit the wood above your head. “You sure cap? There’s a lot here to sift through. Seriously, when you start reading what this guy’s been up to…”
As Soap rattles on you stop listening, instead focusing on licking from the base of Price’s cock back up to the tip, circling your tongue around it teasingly. You can feel him twitch in your hand with every movement, his hips slightly bucking when you close your lips around the head. He tugs on your hair again, warning you, but you don’t relent.
“You alright? You’re looking a bit flushed, heard there’s a bug going around,” Soap says, blissfully unaware of what is actually happening.
Price curses under his breath as he runs a hand over his face. You would chuckle about how stressed you have him if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied otherwise, sliding his cock deeper and deeper into your throat.
“I’m fine, just real busy,” Price tells Soap. His hand tugs at your hair, but this time it isn’t to warn you to stop, oh no. You feel the difference, feel the edge of roughness as he does it. You’re definitely paying for this later. “Let’s meet up in two hours, yeah? Then we’ll go over the details.”
Soap lingers for a moment more before you hear his heavy boots retreating back to the door. “Understood, sir.”
You can feel Price’s muscles relax as soon as Soap closes the door behind himself, leaving the two of you alone again. He instantly scoots back his chair, pulling you off of him as you whine.
“Fuck, you want to get me in trouble, don’t you, love?” He says, his brows drawn together in a frown.
He’s a little frustrated, but there’s also clear desire in his gaze as he stares down at you. And he could never get mad at you, not really.
You give him a sheepish smile. “I can’t help that you didn’t lock your door.”
He grabs onto your arm, tugging you up on his lap till you’re practically face to face with him, uncaring about dirtying your pants or shirt as his cock presses up against your stomach. “Right, because I should’ve known you would crawl under my desk, suck my cock, and then not even stop when one of my men comes in.”
“A true lack of foresight on your part, captain.” You bite your lip to hold back a chuckle.
He grabs onto your chin with one hand, and a heavy second passes before a lazy grin pulls at his lips. “You are dirty little thing, you know that?”
“Affirmative.”
He groans in approval, pressing a soft yet hungry kiss to your lips before pulling away and slapping your ass.
“Now go lock the door, I’m not done with you yet.”
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d0youc0py · 2 months
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I’ve been seeing so much ex husband price stuff on here and it’s making me drool. So I’m contributing some ex husband/not divorced yet but taking a break for vague reasons but you both still deeply love each other TF 141….Also this is sappy, dramatic and not accurate character portrayal—just let me live in denial!
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“Johnathan, it’s 1 am.” You groaned, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.
“Go back to bed, Honey.” He muttered back quickly. You shot him a glare at the term of endearment. He was balancing a flashlight between his teeth, his back mostly turned to you.
“Are you fixing that window?” You questioned, turning on the overhead light. He must’ve not wanted to wake you. He took the flashlight out of his mouth, looking over his shoulder at you. His chest swelled at the sight of you in one of his shirts. It took every ounce of self restraint not to wrap you up in his arms. “I told you over the phone I hired someone to come and fix it.” You yawned.
“And have some stranger traipsing through the house.” He huffed. You watched as his arms flexed at even the slightest movements. You hated these moments of weakness. It was the same reason why you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were wearing one of his shirts. Or the same reason you would light a cigar like it was incense. The same reason why you always answered his daily calls. Then you’d remember why you wanted a divorce in the first place. It always felt like someone dumping cold water on you.
And thats exactly how you felt now.
“That’s not your problem anymore, John.” You reminded. His blood ran cold. Yet he kept up his unbothered appearance.
“Never a problem, Honey.” He assured, still keeping his back to you. You sighed running a hand over your face.
“I just- I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to just show up whenever you want. It’s my house right? That’s what you agreed to. It’s not just some motel you can show up at whenever you want to feel needed.” You spat. His body was still and ridged. His teeth ached from the tight clenching of his jaw and the pain in his chest was wince worthy.
“I know.” He said slowly. “I just want you to know I’ll always take care of you, Honey.” He began to turn towards you but stopped himself. He couldn’t stand to see the look on your face.
“I don’t need you to take care of me, John.” You continued. “I was able to survive before you and when you left me every other month.” You don’t know why you were being so forceful with him. Maybe it was because you hadn’t physically seen him in a few weeks.
“Well maybe I’m not doing it for you, hmm?” He shot back, finally facing you. His eyes were just as red the day you walked out of the lawyers office. “You made your decision, but that doesn’t mean you just stopped being the most important thing in my life. So yeah, I’m going to drop by if I feel I need to because I vowed to always take care of you and no fucking paper you make me sign is going to take that away from me. If you don’t like that you can get a restraining order.”
He didn’t even have a moment to catch his breath before your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.
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“Hey, Cap.” You smiled into your phone. Calls from Price were kinda common- he just liked to check up on you here and there, but you could tell by the sigh on the other end this wasn’t going to be about you.
“Hey, Kiddo.” He started. “I catch you at a good time?” He questioned.
“Yeah, just watching TV. Everything alright?” You questioned back. There was another sigh on his end, and it sounded like he was taking a drag of his cigar.
“No one’s hurt.” He was trying to pick his words carefully. “It’s ’bout Simon, though.”
“Okay.” You responded slowly. Just the mention of Simon’s name had a small tremor rise in your body. It’s not like you had gone no-contact with him. He called you a few times a week just to ask if you needed anything, if anything in the flat needed to be fixed, or just to make sure you locked all the windows before going to sleep. “You’re building up a lot of suspense here, Cap.” You offered a fake chuckle.
“Sorry.” He paused again and you wanted to rip your hair out. “He’s just- I know it’s really none of my business what happened between the two of you but he’s not doing good, Love.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s doing fine work-wise. But I’m worried about him personally. He’s droppin’ weight, smoking a couple packs a day, drinkin’ when he knows he’s not suppose to be. When he’s not doing that he just sits and stares. Johnny has to check his pulse sometimes.” It was his turn to offer you a chuckle. Another pause and drag. A few fat tears rolled down your cheeks and Price ran a hand over his face when he heard you sniffle. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I also know you would get after me if I didn’t. Now you don’t owe him anything, but I think just a call from you would help him out a lot.”
“You think he’s doing this because of me?” You whispered.
“Course.” Price responded immediately. He cringed at himself. “What I mean to say is, you’re that man’s ‘reason.’ You get what I’m saying? Men like me and him need a reason. A reason to come home. A reason to be better. A reason to just get our asses out of bed at the crack of dawn. Like I said you don’t owe him anything, Kiddo, but I think just hearing your voice would do him some good.”
“Thank you, Price. For looking out for him and me.” You said sincerely.
“It’s what I get paid for.” He shot back with a laugh. You rolled your eyes, pressing the big red button after a ‘goodbye’. Your swollen eyes raked over the wedding photos you still had hanging in the living room. You couldn’t not call him. You wondered how long he’d been acting like this. Had he been doing it the whole time you had been separated? You rubbed at your eyes working up the courage to press his contact in your phone.
It only rang once before he answered.
“You alright?” He asked quickly.
“Yeah.” You replied, taking a deep breath. “Just calling to check in.” You said slowly. You heard him breathe a sigh of relief.
“Checkin’ in on me?” He repeated. Your heart ached at the thought that he seemed to think you didn’t care about him.
“That okay?” You urged. He hummed in agreement. “If your busy I can call bac”-
“Not busy.” He cut off. “What’ve you been up to?” You heard some shuffling and it sounded like he was getting into bed. You wondered what time it was wherever he was in the world.
“Nothing too interesting. I got a new cat! She’s an older tabby who’s seen some things, but she’s a Sweetheart.” You rambled on smiling.
“She probably thinks she’s in heaven with you.” He snickered. You giggled at his words and his eyes shut tightly trying to soak up every second of it.
“Simon, is there anyway when you get back you could help me move in a new cat tower? They’re all fighting over the one we have.” Using the word ‘we’ had just become habit when talking to Simon. You didn’t even realize you had said it. But you using that word was all the ‘reason’ he needed.
“Of course. I’ll be home Wednesday. That work for you?” His heart was beating out of his chest like it did the very first time he asked you out on a date.
“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then, Si.”
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*inaccurate medical rules*
Your leg bounced up and down nervously, your eyes about to burn a hole in the pale blue curtain. You were in an accident- not a major one, but you did receive a concussion.
Johnny was still your emergency contact and according to the nurses he was more than willing to pick you up.
“He’s not entirely my husband.” You began. The nurse raised his eyes from the clipboard for a split second before shrugging.
“Says it in your file and he’s still your emergency contact. He’s already on his way, but do you have anyone else we could call?” His tone was bored and you wondered how many times he had to have this conversation a day. You slowly shook your head. “Well we can’t just let you leave by yourself.” He sighed.
“I know, but I filed for divorce. He just refuses to sign it. Doesn’t that count for anything?” You pleaded. The nurse gave you a sour look.
“I can change your emergency contact so in future accidents he won’t be contacted.” You furrowed your brows at his choice of words.
“Hopefully there won’t be anymore accidents.” Your body stiffened at the all too familiar voice. The curtain was drawn back revealing your husband. He gave you a soft smile and you hated the way it settled your stomach.
“Yeah right, so change your emergency contact or no?” The nurse piqued up. You shut your eyes tightly, shaking your head side to side. You wished the floor would swallow you. The nurse looked between you and Johnny before giving you two some privacy.
“I’m sorry about all this, John.” You sighed standing up. “They wouldn’t let me leave without someone signing for me. If you could just walk me out, I can call an Uber.”
“John?” He repeated, in a whisper. It was probably just intended for himself. His chest tightened. No nicknames. He partly hoped that this experience would’ve softened you. Made you happy to be alive. Make you want to wrap your arms around him and call off the whole ‘divorce’ thing. He can picture all the times you sprawled out on his chest, whispering into his skin how safe you felt with him. Now here you were inching yourself away from him like he would ever hurt you. “I’d rather take you home.” He pressed.
“It’s seriously okay John”-
“Enough with the formalities.” He snipped. Your eyes widened and he groaned at his mistake. “You’re discounting everything we’ve been through together. Treating me like some stranger.” He growled out.
“Well what am I suppose to do? Hmm? You want me to call you ‘Mac’ again. Or any of the other ridiculous nicknames I made up for you? Well I’m not going to do that! You were good to me for so many years, Johnny- please don’t think I have forgotten that. But this last year it’s like I haven’t even existed to you. You’re taking every single job that is thrown your way like you don’t even want to be with me anyone, so I’m just doing what you do obviously want but aren’t going to say.” Your voice shook and tears dropped from your eyes, but you held your ground. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes red from holding back what you had already given up hiding.
“You think I want this? I”-
“Hey, as much as this has been the highlight of my week, we actually need your bed back.” The nurse interrupted, peaking his head through the curtains. Your flushed but nodded your head in understanding. Johnny was hot on your trail following you out. The cold air felt nice against your heated body and you turned to Johnny waiting for him to make the first step.
“I’m sorry for gettin’ on you in there.” He sighed. He shifted on his feet. “I just miss you.” His eyes refused to meet yours knowing it would cause him to break. He opened and closed his mouth trying to find the words to how desperately he wanted you in his life.
“For a man who loves to talk you sure are having a hard time.” You sniffled, wiping at your still streaming eyes.
That was all he needed to let it out. It was sloppy and unfiltered, but yet it shattered your world and everything you thought you knew about the man and how he felt about you.
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You saw him at the store. It wasn’t the first time you had run into him- actually you two seemed to be bumping into each other all over the place. And without hesitation every single time he would flee the scene like you were some bully from high school he ran into. The same thing happened tonight. You both turned into the same aisle, stared at each other for a moment, then he dropped his basket and charged out the door.
You had already made up your mind weren’t going to let him go this easy.
You rushed after him, at a speed walk pace.
“Kyle!” You shouted after him in the parking lot. He was just opening the door to his sleek black car, one of his feet inside already. He paused for a moment, before sliding into the drivers seat. You were able to grab the door handle before he shut it on you.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He growled, beginning to tug the door back. Your hand gripped the car door and he quickly faltered not wanting to slam it shut on your fingers.
“Just let me talk, please?” You begged. Those same brown eyes that you had spent the best part of your life staring into bore coldly into yours. “I just- We keep running into each other. I just think it’s silly that we keep avoiding each other.”
“Not silly.” He shot back without missing a beat. “You don’t want me anymore, remember?” Your heart dropped.
“Ky, that’s not true”-
“Fucking save it, Y/N. You’re the one who wanted to take a break. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with already.” He spat. His face curled in a way that made you want to die.
“Is that what you want?” You asked quietly. He ran his hands up and down his face.
“I’m tired of your games, Lovie.” His voice held no warmth. “I want my partner back. The same person who I vowed to spend the rest of my life with. The same person I vowed to love and protect- but that person doesn’t even seem to be you anymore. I couldn’t imagine just cutting you out of my life the way you did to me. And the fact that you were able to do it fucking terrifies me. Just call me when you figure your shit out.”
He shut the door and you let him.
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imaginesheaven · 11 months
Text
Lonely Water (GN!Reader x TF141)
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Lonely Water
GN!Reader x TF 141 (platonic)
Summary: You crash into the ocean with a helicopter during a mission. Waiting for your hopefully on time rescue you relive some of your favorite memories of your team. Kind of inspired by the song “Hold Back The River” by James Bay.
Callsign: Phoenix
Length: Around 2.3k words
Warnings: Swearing as always, angst, mentions of injuries, drowning
“Mayday! Eagle 3 is coming down in the middle of the ocean. The pilot is dead and I have no fucking clue how to fly this thing! … Oh, fucking hell…”
There is nothing but darkness around you. The mysterious but dark night sky with thousand shining stars above you and the deadly ocean lurking beneath you. The water is just waiting for you to lose the last of your endurance so you can sink into its cold embrace.
“I’m stronger than you think”, you hiss at the tiny waves of dark ocean water, but you are actually not sure how much longer you will survive. The cold of the sea comes creeping in what feels for hours now. It made itself a home in your bones so deeply freezing that your lips have turned already blue. The feeling in your arms and legs starts to fade just like your will of survival.
The helicopter sunk within minutes after the horrific crash into the water. There was literally nothing left to cling onto. You wouldn’t be Jack clinging for dear life onto a wooden door, while your true love stays safely above the freezing water.
The thought of the Titanic brings a weak smile onto your lips. At least you still got your humor with you to keep you company.
Darkness fills your mind with the sinking dread that your team probably wouldn’t be fast enough to rescue from this death trap. Your form floats on the water like a dead man hoping to delay the bitter end for just another few minutes.
The exhaustion slowly takes over as your eyes flutter shut desperate for a moment of rest. Cold water comes rushing over your face since the ocean was waiting for its chance to drown you in its embrace. The water is merciless. Adrenaline rushes through your vein bringing back your will to fight. You swim with weak strokes back to the surface. How much longer can you keep up against the sea?
“Oi! Not so fast, Phoenix!”, a familiar voice behind you yells out. The dirt beneath your shoes crunches as you jog through a patch of trees. Wait, a minute. The water surrounding you has vanished? This can’t be real, right? It hast to be a memory.
“Too bad you are so slow, Soap. You could easily catch up with me if you would work out a bit more”, you reply to the familiar voice behind you. Soap stares at you speechless for a second before he speeds up to catch you. Laughing you send him a wink and even put more speed on to outrun him more than easily.
Soap grunts with exhaustion ready to bring you down with him. He jumps forward his arms stretched out. This man is an open book for you for years now. Still grinning you make a step to the side completely out of his reach. Soap falls to the ground without you.
Absolutely pumped you start your little victory dance knowing exactly that in the distance Price, Gaz and Ghost are watching the two of you with binoculars. “That was quite a fall Soap took there”, the Captain comments the downfall of the poor Scott, “Pay up, Gaz.” The young soldier lets out a groan but always pays his bet debts.
“Phoenix could outrun us all, Gaz, never think otherwise”, no matter how often Ghost sees you running he is always mesmerized by your endurance.
“How can you be so damn fast?”, Soap can’t believe he lost once again. You give him a half shrug with your shoulder, “I imagine Death chasing me and what do we say to Death?”
“Not today”, you whisper smiling. The thought of your teammates brings you pure joy despite the fact you are probably going to drown. The only family you ever had and ever needed. For a second you close your eyes hoping to see more memories.
“So, your callsign is Phoenix. What’s the story behind it?”, Gaz asks you with a bright smile on his lips. Sometimes he reminds you of a little boy in a candy store. You can’t believe how much happiness his happiness can bring you.
“Well…”, you start your not so exciting story, but Soap interrupts you immediately: “Phoenix survived a car crash with a big explosion and came back out of its ashes like a Phoenix. Tada! The callsign was born!”
The silence in the room is deafening before you burst out with laughter, “What the hell, Soap?! No, that’s not what happened!” Everyone except Gaz gets a good laugh from this story. He looks so terribly confused and kind of intimidated at the same time.
“Poor Gaz is probably traumatized for the rest of his life. I like to burn things and someone else already had the fucking callsign Pyro so I had to improvise”, you explain him the situation with a few words. The young soldier rolls his eyes. Still a tiny smile on his lips can be seen.
“Have you any idea how hard it was to get Phoenix and Soap as both demolition freaks on the team? Explosions. Fires. Laswell was not happy at all”, Price recalls his quite one-sided conversation with her. The only thing she said was “NO!” over and over again. Well, she also said “FUCKING HELL FOR SURE NOT!” once. But Captain Price gets what he wants in the end.
A tiny tear rolls down your face, but you can’t feel anything anymore. The cold crept into every single fiber of your body.  In the end it doesn’t matter anyway. You are still surrounded by water so what matters a single tear escaping? It’s the only one. Way too tired you can’t share more than that tiny tear with the ocean.
“Are you fucking serious? You could have died!”, you hiss angrily at Ghost as you patch the bullet wound in his side up. The tough soldier keeps quiet letting you work. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall without a single thought behind those eyes. Except for sacrificing himself for someone else”, you keep going with your monologue. No one dares to speak like that to him. Except you. It’s always you.
Ghost can’t see how your hands are shaking. How the fear takes over your already worry-ridden mind. How you blame yourself for not being fast enough in the end. You could have prevented this from happening.
But Simon knows you better than you yourself sometimes, “Not for anyone. Only for you, Phoenix. I’m sorry, but please stop worrying. Stop blaming yourself. In the end it was my decision. That’s what we do for each other. Keeping each other safe, right?”
Not answering you put away the first med kit finally done with patching him up. Ghost isn’t the one with the soft side, but with you it is so easy to feel safe for once. You stand up hoping to run from this conversation. His hand stops you dead in your tracks as he grabs your wrist, “Right?”
A slight smile appears on your lips still not turning around to face him, “Of course… but you are still a brick wall.” Simon can’t help himself but smile too behind his mask.
What have you done? If Simon would be here with you, he would hold this whole conversation against you. It’s the same reason that has brought you into the middle of the ocean. You wanted to keep them safe. Your team. Your family.
The helicopter was loaded with explosive meant to kill. Bombs. Soap’s favorite. There was no time to defuse them. You had not a single second to think about it. Just enough time to act on impulse. What a great idea to bring the helicopter down over the ocean far away to hurt someone else. But what about you?
“No, you are not stronger than me, Gaz”, Soap puts down the money for his bet. There is never a dull moment with those clowns. A tiny smile appears on your lips as you nurse your lonely drink in your hand.
“What’s so funny?”, Price notices your rather happy facial expression. “Nothing, just happy to be alive”, you reply simply. The Captain doesn’t need an explanation what you mean exactly. He just knows. You don’t need to elaborate how they give you a feeling of being home. How they are like the family you never had before in your life. They are everything you need to be happy.
But now it is time to let go.
Tired you keep your eyes closed as the cold water pulls you down into its embrace. You are not scared anymore to give up this time. Only gratefulness and happiness are present in your heart and mind. The joy you experienced is more than enough for a whole lifetime.
For the last time you open your eyes to see the darkness around you. It was the only friend you had the last few hours. The tiny waves trying to lull you into a memories-filled sleep. The cold making it easier to let go. You have been tired for so long already. Tiny air bubbles escape and leave you behind.
The darkness lurks beneath you, but above the water surface shines a strange light. Is that the beacon of hope you were looking for the whole time? There are voices too, but you can’t understand what they are yelling. You are sinking further and further. Far away from the light.
Above the lonely water your team is looking for you desperately.
The thought sends a surge of energy through your body. As hard as you can you wave your arms and legs completely uncoordinated. Still the movement brings you closer to the surface. You can’t give up now. Not so close to them.
Your whole body is numb and hurts at the same time terribly. The ocean gives its best to keep you to itself. The cold clouds your mind. Are you paddling into the right direction? Are you going further down?
Then your arm breaks through the surface. But that’s all you had left in you.
Something grabs your hand so tight you almost screamed out loud because of the pain. Your head is still underwater. There is another tightness in your lungs screaming for just a tiny bit of fresh air.
Slowly you get dragged out of the darkness. Leaving the ocean behind. You take a gasping breath. The world outside the water is so overwhelming. The lights blind you for a moment. The loud noises roar in your ears. Pure chaos. For a moment you miss the calming darkness of the ocean.
A slight smile would appear on your lips as you see the faces of your teammates, but that’s too much for now. Gaz and Soap have their hands tightly on your arms, while Price and Ghost try to heave you into the helicopter by your tactical vest. All your gear got extremely heavy soaked with ocean water to the brim. You wish you could help them out, but you reached your limit of energy a long time ago. They lower you to the ground finally freed of the water.
“We got Phoenix. Go, Nik”, Price gives his order to Nicolai. Your favorite Russian pilot. Ghost and Soap try to get rid of your tactical vest together. Gaz stands ready with a blanket to warm you up. They keep talking to you, but you can’t quite follow their words. Your mind still frozen in place.
“Hey, hey. You broken?”, John puts his hand on your ice-cold cheek to get your attention. This time you can manage a weak smile, “Define broken, Captain.” He lets out a deep sigh full of worry but more than happy to hear your voice once again.
“Don’t ever do this again, muppet. You were out there the whole night. We- … We literally thought you were gone. Want to sit up?”, Price grabs your shoulder softly too scared to hurt you after what you went through. Ghost on the other side helps you too to sit up.
The sun starts to rise on the horizon bringing another day to this earth. Another day you are able to see. Another day to be alive.
“You damn lucky bastard. The endurance from your jogging probably saved your ass out there”, Simon can’t believe he gets another chance to see you again. It breaks his heart to see you beaten up and weak like this, but you are alive.
“What do we say to Death?”, Soap asks you grinning like always. “Not today”, you reply enjoying the little inside joke the two of you have.
Price puts his leg behind your back so you can relax yourself against him. Ghost rests his hand on your shoulder letting himself feel grateful to have you back. Soap sits next to you. Shoulder against shoulder. Just like out in the battlefield. Gaz holds one of your hands in his to get them back to normal temperature.
Your little family.
Lonely Water
Let us hold each other
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ghouljams · 4 months
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Ok but… single dad!price playing with his kid??? Ngl that’d have me asking him if he’d want more 👀👀👀
You watch as a child runs(toddles) to Price, only to be scooped up and tossed in the air by the man. You'd be more worried except that the peals of laughter speak to this being a familiar experience. Similarly the bear hug that the child is caught in, and the way Price leans forward to tip the child over his arms and kiss their cheek with a loud smack, make you think this happens a lot. "Daddy that tickles!" comes through breathless laughter, as Price pulls them both up to stand straight. He shift the kid to sit against his hip, and gives him a short bounce.
"Where's your nanny bud?" He asks, wiping some crumbs off the kid's cheek. The little boy scrunches his face up and tries to wiggle away from his father's hand. You cover your mouth to try and hide the giggle that threatens to slip free. They're a cute pair, the kid looks just like him.
"She said, um, she said," The kid can't be more than three, doing his best at talking with all the starts and stops of still learning. He glances at you, and leans against Price's shoulder, cupping his hand to whisper. Price hums, and turns his head so the kid can talk in his ear with a small smile. He mouths a silent 'sorry' at you and you shake your head with a smile. He told you he had a kid before you started dating, you can't fault him for being a father.
"You can say hi," Price tells his boy when the kiddo pulls away. He bounces him on his hip again and the kid leans his head against Price's shoulder, suddenly shy. He looks at you under his dad's jaw with a small smile and gives a little wave. You wave back with a friendly grin. "I've gotta put 'im to bed, do you mind if-"
"Not at all," You tell him, following Price inside the house when he holds the door. He directs you towards the couch and you take a seat, waiting for whatever bedtime rituals this little family of two has to finish. You can hear the soft melody of Price's voice as he sings quiet lullabies to his child through the walls, and it makes you smile a little wider. When he comes back it's with tight smile.
"Thanks for waiting, I know it's not-"
You cut him off again, "It's no trouble at all, your boy comes first." Price hums, dropping down next to you on the couch. He loops an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close against his side. "You're a good dad," You say, just... well just because you know he worries about it.
"Tryin' to be," He sighs. You cuddle a little closer against him, pick your feet up to swing over his lap. His free hand drops to rest against your thigh, thumb swiping against your leg idly.
"You ever think about having more?" You ask, curious. It's not the sort of question you usually broach so early in a relationship, but watching him with his kid makes you feel a little...
"We can start tryin' any time, sweetheart." Price rumbles low in his chest, the hand on your leg squeezes gently. You laugh at the joke, and his hand slips between your legs to press against you, firm fingers rubbing just where you like. You suck in a breath and try not to rock too desperately into the touch. "Already seen how good I treat one baby," He breathes, the firm pressure between your legs terribly distracting, "you want me to fuck another into you, all you gotta do is ask."
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simonrillleyyysss · 6 months
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Thoughts on doe!reader dealing with stags!141&könig?
Like them prancing around trying to get the reader interested. Some of them probably sparing to show off their strength. They’re just doing the best to impress you ! My thoughts are clouded by big men with antlers doing the most to impress 🦌
LOVE THISS!!
i love writing hybrids tbh
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they’re all so competitive for you!! soap and gaz especially, they love one upping eachother—soap and gaz are so cocky, constantly bashing antlers in a quick rut infront of you just to show off their strength, gaz loves to hear congrats or praises fall from your lips when he wins; how could he not? it’s so addictive! will sometimes get hurt on purpose just to feel your hands patting his soft cheek :((
johnny is definitely the cockiest out of the crew, always sparring with ghost in an attempt to make himself seem much larger and dominant than he naturally is, constantly making witty jokes or wrapping his arm around you, bragging about how he would be the most successful service! will never win against ghost though, he knows his limits; will never refuse a fight though!
simon and sparring are two different things altogether, he will fight like it’s his last day on earth—constantly ruffling with soap and now and again price, who eventually submits and goes for a rest, this man loves to just fight infront of you— rutting his antlers against soaps with no effort, afterwards simon would forsure get you to clean his injuries, his poor bleeding nose, with green and black bruises covering his thighs and chest, he already knows your his, so why are you still fluttering your pretty doe eyes and batting your thick lashes, helping him fix his injured arm into a sling instead of letting him mount u :(
price loves himself, his horns are like no others—matured and experienced,he loves to show you his antlers, letting your hands run over the velvety horn, watching your eyes fixate in awe at the way they curled and bent uniquely, thick lips parted as he ruffled his hands through your hair, confidence bubbling inside the older man as you cooed praises and compliments , holding himself with pride
könig is the calmest, most reserved and poise— yet he will never shy away from another buck, he’s big like simon—well built and pure muscle, he will rarely rut infront of you out of fear of accidentally pushing into you, but he loves to show off his scars and recent marks, covered in a long scar trailing across his cheek—long hair dangled by his shoulders, he’s just a big natural man!
you just need to watch out, they can’t control themselves when it’s rutting season, and neither can you <3
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