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luboy7rt · 2 months

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One Moment of Failing (Task Force 141)

Lieutenant John Price - Training (Location - Unknown)

John was quietly sneaking about the ‘battle field’, a training field, a game where his own team was split into twos to ‘paintball’ as training, they had some freetime and their Captain had suggested this, as the winner team would get a day off to relax.. the loser..? Would be doing hell training, no breaks. John's eyes firmly looking over to try and see the 'enemy’ wore a different styled uniform. John had manged to get a handful 'enemies’ out of the game, but he was slowly losing members of his own team, oh how he wished this muppets would get their heads out of their arses and take this seriously.. the newer recruits really didn't know what they got their asses into when accepting this game. John dodged a few blue paintball shots swiftly, running in the dark mud as he tried to get to a safer point while shooting back at the ‘enemies’ on the field.. the game went on and on.. until… John was the last standing on his team. He ran and ran, trying to elimate the enemies, but his own team sucked, he was doomed from the start getting mostly new recruits, he silently cursed under his breath about all of ‘em sucking… John got cornered swiftly, like a sheep being hunted by a bunch of wolves. John had been to busy running.. Not noticing the mud under him had gotten deep. So… He got stuck, and went face first into the mud. He could hear the laughter of his comrades, no newer recruits around to witness that, thankfully. As one of them shot his back, spraying it with the blue paint as another grabbed his helmet, to get his face out of the mud.

‘New look there, ey Pricey?’ One of them had mocked John, who had a soft embarrassed blush on his face, that was luckily hidden with the mud he had accidentally splattered on his face when he fell… But he was stuck. It took two of the bigger soldiers to yank him out of the mud… He would never utter a word of this to anyone.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

Gaz wasn't on a mission, he was simply relaxing around base, taking his time as he listened to Price who was debriefing their last mission, going over all of it. Gaz was curious, wondering how he himself can improve. He was eager to do better, wanting to work harder. Gaz silently played with a pen, flipping it through his fingers as his eyes watched Price move about in his chair, spinning his chair slowly side to side.

The mission debrief had ended after about 25 minutes. Price and Gaz now talking about a small mistake Gaz had made during the mission, he had hesitated on going on with the mission, when he heard a call for help, he wanted to go help them.. but he risked the mission to go save a civilian but luckily Price had went after the target in his stead. “Ya.. I know, Captain… It.. just felt wrong to leave ‘em”

Gaz admitted his thoughts, he was hesitant to let his own teammates work.. To let other people save civilians. Price only sighed as he flicked his cigarette, letting the ash fall onto a small plate. “Kyle. You were the closest to the target, you need to stop ‘he target before they do more harm to more civilians… Of course, savin’ civilians is apart of the job, but if you can take down a target..? You take down the target”

Price clasped Gaz's shoulder gently, as he stood from his seat. Gaz nodded firmly, internally sighing, he knew Price was right this time… Hell, Price was usually always right. “Thank you, sir’...” Gaz spoke quietly as he himself stood up.. stumbling into the desk, awkwardly tripping over his own two feet… Right in front of Price. Gaz had stumbled into the table, smacking his hips into the desk, looking up at Price's amused look, and the fact his Captain chuckled. Gaz let out a nervous chuckle himself and swiftly retreated out of the room due to a small amount of embarrassment of tripping over his own two feet in front of his Captain.

John ‘Soap’ Mactavish - Mission (Unknown)

Soap was on a mission with Ghost, the two bickering back and forth over a stupid pun over comms, luckily it was only them. Soap and Ghost having had been split up, but nothing stopped the bad jokes over comms. “..Aye, Ghost… What did one wall say to the other..?” Soap pondered as he walked past a corner as he cleared a building, quietly asking over the comms.

“..I'll meet you at the other corner.” Ghost scoffed back over comms, of course. He already knew the answer and wouldn't give Soap the chance to say it.

“...Fuck sak’, atleast, pretend you don't know it, LT” Soap grumbled quietly as he kicked open a door to a office building, all abanonded, no danger in sight.

“Why didn't an skeleton climb a mountain..” Ghost asked over comms, snicking into his mask as the two exchanged dad jokes.

“...Why?” Soap pondered as he reloaded his gun, ensuring to have bullets when entering a new floor of the building.

“...It didn't have the guts” Ghost chuckled quietly over comms, Soap let out a quiet snort but offered no laughter, as he tried to hop through a window, to the other office… Still thinking about the joke, he slipped, losing his balance, his shoe not having enough grip as he fell forward and landed face first into the floor. “SHITE”

“..Was it that funny?” Ghost questioned through the comms, hearing the yell from the opposite building. “Or you can't come up with something better?” Ghost mocked. “..Or did you get attacked?”

“...” Soap hadn't responded, grumbling under his breath, as he definitely had hurt his ankle not paying enough attention, he stumbled the rest of his body to roll forward and stood up again… Looking at the window.. then around for cameras… He was silent when he found one, just shooting it before enemies arrived due to the loud noise.. The man had a dark embarrassed blush on his face as he ignored his pain and kept moving forward. “I'm fine. LT.” Soap hissed back.

“What did the horse say after it tripped”. Ghost suddenly spoke through the comms… “...I've fallen and I can't giddyup.” He deadpanned the joke, smirking under his mask as Soap muttered a shaddup.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (Mission - Unknown) Ghost was silent, as they were on a medium-sized boat, needing to use a boat to get to the mission point. Oh, yeah, it would have been great, if the damn ‘trip’ wouldn't be seven damn hours long to get there. Of course, they couldn't go by helicopter or plane due to ‘Unknown’ reasons. Ghost silently grumbled to himself, he was in a horrible mood. It had been two hours into the seven hours. The waves were horrible, Ghost was silent about his motion sickness, he swore It only popped up whenever he was on a boat. The violent waves meant all the soldiers were inside, in separate areas. Ghost rested his eyes, leaning his head against a wall, he tried to focus on just preparing for the mission. It was one violent wave that took Ghost's footing, slipping and hitting the boat floor with a thud, sliding all the way to the other side of the ship, landing right into a sofa chair. “Shit…” He just decided to stay sat there, glancing around to ensure no one saw that.. glaring at a soldier who snorted before they themself, fell, and slid away from Ghost, earning a snicker from Ghost, who looked away.

#tf 141 #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captian john price #soap cod #ghost cod #price cod #gaz cod #fanfiction #cod mw2 fanfic #TF141

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mayorofclowntown · 1 year

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If I had a say, I'd be best friends with Gaz.

He's the youngest (I think). So I'd think he at least knows some memes n shit so like-

no this'll make sense, watch.

---

Raccoon: "Blows up pancakes with mind."

Ghost: " "

Price: " "

Gaz: " "

Gaz, quietly: "my fuckin panca-"

---

Do I feel cringe? A lil. But I gotta. My brain is just filled with COD and I gotta share it.

#kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captian John price #john price #cod #call of duty oc #self insert #call of duty characters #C.O.D Raccoon #call of duty #call of duty sona #this is technically a HC so #Kyle Gaz Garrick HC #cod headcanons #cod HCS #shhhshh sh shshhutup let me live

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deanzelly · 11 months

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Anyone want a price fic x Medic reader???? Wanna post my writing but im unsure, so you can get a tiny taste of what I have to offer

“What did you do now?” He sees you standing in the doorway to the infirmary with hands on your hips as your coat constricts your every curve. Your look displays displeasure and disappointment as you shake your head back and forth in disagreement. He feels the heat bloom below his belt as he chuckles at your small scowl. “Eh, it's nothing major, sweetheart.” he locks deep blues with yours as you start slowly walking forward. “Oh John, never cease to disappoint, do you?” You joke around, smiling brightly as you pick up his gruff hand and against yours it looks so big and burly, years of heavy, bloody and dedicated work seeps in the seams of his hands. He can’t help but notice your soft hands and how gently you pull up his sleeve while looking him in the eyes, smiling softly revealing the minor injury.

He knows what he does is risky but the consciousness flies away as his other hand grabs your thigh and pushes you closer to him. You let out a small gasp as both of you are but a few inches from each other “Let’s hope I stop disappointing you then, ey?” His voice is low and gruff. He shouldn’t do this but you are so close, and warm and soft and… just so perfect.

Tell me what you think - smooches

#john price #captian john price #cod x reader #cod mwii #medic reader

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certifiedyapperx · 18 days

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Captain John Price • broken.

PAIRING: John Price x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: the result of my poll. in short, you tell your captain that the reason you’ve only dated one man is because your ex said you were broken due to your inability to orgasm; and price offers to show you that the only thing broken was your confidence.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k (got carried away.)

TAGS: 18+, PURE FILTHY SMUT MDNI, Slight Degradation, Praise, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk, Absurd amount of swearing, Fingering, Price being daddy as fuck.

"What about that ex girlfriend of yours, Gaz?"

As soon as those words left the Scottish lads lips, everyone in the room was giggling like a lot of fucking schoolgirls. You'd be lying if you said that didn't include yourself.

"You want to talk about ex girlfriends now, Soap?" Gaz sat forward in his chair, eyeing his grinning teammate from across the room, the grip on his glass so tight you were worried it'd shatter between his fingers. "What about that woman you boned in Prague? The one that wanted, oh--how do I say it...a little ride on train 141."

"Nuthin' little about that train." Ghost added through a choked chuckle, barely able to get the words out.

Your fucking abdomen was starting to get sore from the amount of laughing you'd done tonight. These men were absolutely ridiculous. You'd never heard more obscene sex stories in your damn life, and they've got a bloody abundance of them--the back and fourth taunting over who fucked who and who did what never seemed to end. It was almost three in the morning and they were still going strong.

"Aye," Soap leaned back in his chair, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a slow sip, wide eyes gleaming as he reminisced. "Fuckn' wild one, that one. Had her nice and tamed for me by the end of that deployment.”

"Aye, the fucking woman whisperer, this one," Ghost chimed in again, his balaclava half pulled up, exposing his stubble-donned chin and grinning lips as he took a hefty swig of bourbon. Not even fazed. "Almost as smooth as Price."

Everyone in the room chuckled, nodding and muttering words of agreement, but you were stuck in place--still absentmindedly staring at Ghost while turning the words over in your mind, curiosity piqued.

"Price?" His name left your lips before you could even attempt to prevent it.

All eyes in the room shifted toward you, and Gaz cocked an eyebrow. "You've never heard any of his stories?"

Ghost shot him a look. "Clearly not."

"I mean, I've heard some..." you mumbled, awkwardly trying to fix the mess you've just made. Your gaze darted between the three men staring at you, each set of eyes glazed with confusion, clearly trying to figure out why you were so taken aback. "Captain is far more secretive than the rest of you."

You'd been on the team for a solid eight months. Since recruitment, you'd worked alongside Price every single fucking day, yet the man hardly ever spoke about his personal life.

Unlike the others, who seemed to never stop.

"Around you, yeah." Soap mumbled with a smirk, shooting a knowing glance toward Gaz who instantly returned it.

Your brows knit in confusion. "Around me?"

"Aye." Ghost replied for Soap, and you were practically sitting on the edge of your goddamn seat as you knew he wasn't finished. He shifted lower in his chair as his eyes traced up and down your form. "You're new. You're hot. You've never spoken a word about your own personal life. The man's a bloody nutcase, but he hides it well when he needs to--he probably doesn't want to scare you off."

"Scare me off?" You had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor. Trying to mask your confusion, you cleared your throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

At your reaction, everyone chuckled again, and your face immediately flushed with blood--shading you the same crimson colour found on a ripe fucking tomato. If there was some joke happening here, it'd clearly flown way above your radar.

And yet, before you or anyone else could even consider speaking again, the man of the hour appeared in the doorway, and you nearly fell out of your chair.

"Valid question." He didn't even acknowledge you as he spoke, eyes fixed on Ghost as he took a step into the room.

Gods, he was fucking attractive—every molecule in your being screamed at the sight of him. You'd done everything you could to ignore that fact for the entirety of your time here, ensuring your focus was trained on keeping things professional--but after two glasses of whiskey and the current topic of conversation, the flood gates were wide fucking open.

"Go on, Ghost," his voice was low, deep as the depths of your desire as his ocean eyes slowly danced around the room. "...I'd like to know the answer as well."

Price took a seat across from you, slouching slightly and nodding toward Soap who promptly poured him a glass of burning brown liquid and slid it across the table. Ghost pulled down his balaclava in attempt to hide his cheeky fucking grin, shrugging as though he had no idea what his Captain was on about.

"Not sure what you mean, Cap." Ghost quipped, and you could practically hear the beaming delight in his words. "We're just talking."

"Hm," Price side-eyed him, humoured. "You always talk about me?"

"Only when you're not around." Soap chimed in, snuffing a groan in his throat as he'd downed the rest of his drink and stood up, shooting an inebriated nod to each of you. "Well, would you look at the time--I'm gonna' hit the sack. Duty calls, y'know."

Your stomach churned with confusion, your eyes glued to the Scottish bloke who decided it was convenient to make his exit the exact moment Price entered the room. You almost wanted to reach over and yank him back into his seat.

"Keep it classy ya filthy bastards."

He shot you a cheeky wink from beyond the door frame before disappearing into the abyss, only for Gaz and Ghost to rise from their seats as well, seemingly following Soap's lead, muttering excuses about how late it was and how exhausted they were.

Your mind raced at lightning speed, trying to make sense of the sudden exodus. You were going to kill those fuckers in the morning.

Price broke the silence before it had the chance to linger for too long. "It's not personal, you know."

Your heart slammed your sternum. You sucked in a breath and trapped it there. You needed to calm the fuck down--though that seemed like a goddamn impossible task at the moment. Prices' voice was the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. It stirred every last atom within you.

Avoiding his eyes, you straightened in your seat, clearing your throat. "I know."

"Do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, two fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not so sure."

You looked up now--almost immediately regretting it as your eyes caught his. You forced words out of your mouth before you could acknowledge how the way he was looking at you made you feel.

"It's because I haven’t opened up to you..." you murmured. "Yeah?"

Price nodded, choosing to remain silent, his gaze anchoring you to the floor—every muscle stiff as stone.

You cleared your throat again. "Well. What do you want to know? My family? Where I grew up-"

"No." He cut you off, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as his stare intensified. "...I already know all that. You're my recruit, I know everything about your past..." his head tilted, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed his glass to the side, clasping his hands together infront of him. "What I don't know, is why a woman as skilled, as smart, and as undeniably attractive as you, has only ever been with one man."

Blood crystallized in your veins, every ounce of your skin vibrating with an emotion you couldn't identify. He was so close—closer than you'd initially gauged—and that closeness ignited dormant desperation, one you'd nearly forgotten existed.

Your throat was thick. Saliva lodged inside it. "I..."

There was a reason. There was a very good reason as to why you've only been with one man, why you promised to never put yourself through that shit again. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words aloud. That would mean being vulnerable, humiliatingly vulnerable--one of the many things soldiers were trained not to be.

Captain Price hummed, leaning back slightly, and a swarm of unpreventable desire roared alive in your chest. His attention flicked over you. Like he'd felt it.

He remained silent. He was waiting for an answer.

"It's...um..."

Your brain filtered through pages of plausible excuses until it landed on one. Inhaling a breath, you forced the fibbing syllables past your teeth, shrugging in an attempt to make it believable.

"I just...never found anyone I jived with.”

Price paused, his scrutiny skinning you raw. It was like he knew what was waiting on the edge of your tongue, like he could smell the smoke swirling off the fire below your waist. He wasn't buying it.

"You can't lie to me." His words only confirmed your thoughts. "I mean, theoretically you could, though I'd advise against it."

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to your hands. "I'm not lying."

"Perhaps not," he replied, voice cool as ice. "But you're certainly omitting."

Fuck, he was good. And of course he was--there was a reason he was Captain. He was fucking bred for this. You were certain he could detect a lie from light years away.

"It's embarrassing," you replied, ignoring the thrilled leap your heart made that he'd read you so well. "You'll think less of me."

John Price leaned further across the small table, nibbling the distance between you. The intensity of his focus made your insides tangle, something was undoubtedly churning within his mind. A breath caught in your throat as his eyes held yours.

"I don't care," he stole another inch, and you could now comfortably say that he was well within your personal space. "If this is going to work, there has to be trust. Because you should trust me—as your Captain, and as your friend..." in a single abrupt movement, he stood up, towering over you, eyes boring into the top of your head until he shifted toward the door. "...when you're ready to open up to me, I’ll open up to you."

Ice braced your veins. This was the most conversation you'd had with your Captain since you joined the team, and you were about to blow it with your inability to talk to him. To just telling him the fucking truth. He took a step back from the table, began moving toward the door, and you panicked.

You let him get two steps from reaching it before you jumped up, out of your seat. "Wait!"

Time was a relative concept. But as your Captain spun, and as you linked eyes with him, it slowed. Stopped.

You cleared your throat for the millionth time. "It's because...it's because I'm broken."

Price's eyes widened, only momentarily, before they narrowed--out of curiosity or skepticism, you couldn't tell.

"You’re broken." He said, drawing the words out on his tongue while taking a slow, lengthy step toward you. "Elaborate."

You dropped your eyes to the floor again, catching sight of his brown, rugged combat boots as they stepped into your line of sight. Heat flashed your face, and you shifted on your feet.

"My...my ex...um," your voice was barely above a whisper. Something felt gut-wrenchingly humiliating about having this conversation with your fucking Captain. "He, he kinda fucked with my head, I guess. Made me never want to date again."

You heard an exhale, a huff of enticed breath leaving lungs.

"I think," Price eased closer, and you caught whiff of his cologne--the scent engulfing your senses, sending hunger snarling and snapping for relief. "...you're omitting again."

"Why?..." you blurted, trailing your gaze past the vast expanse of his strong chest and up to his gleaming eyes peering down at you. You blinked. "...do you think that?"

Price raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"No, it’s just…” you closed your eyes, took a breath. Let it out. No point in lying. Just rip off the fucking bandaid. "He broke up with me because I couldn't orgasm. He said I was broken because of it. It’s dumb, but it hurt.”

Gods, it felt so fucking stupid that you had to smile, had to damn near laugh at yourself. As much as it sounded so foolish, you'd always just considered that maybe something was actually wrong with you. After all, he was your first, and your only—and the fact that you could never orgasm bothered you, too.

However, when you finally reopened your eyes, swallowing whatever ounces of pride you had left, you found a depth to your Captain's ocean irises that was not there before.

There was something floating inside them, now--something primal, something depraved.

"Interesting." His hand raised from his side, grazing over your cheek and coming to a slow on your neck, the tips of his fingers skimming over your racing pulse. "Broken."

Any blood that had been left in your head was now plummeting to your core.

"Broken." You whispered.

Price exhaled, his breath caressing your face, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to thrust itself past your teeth. Never once would you have considered the thought of actually fucking your Captain--but right here, right now, with the way he was touching you, analyzing you, palpably tempting you--it was becoming more difficult to deny the physical need steaming from your pores.

"This,” his voice was so deep it made your blood sweat, his thumb stroking your pulse. "Doesn't feel broken at all."

Adrenaline surged you, ambushing your lungs with rapid breath, flares of lust sparking over your skin. You leaned into his touch, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a straight up growl.

Your pulse soared, your hand finding his wrist. “Captain…”

It would be lying to say you thought this was a good decision. But you couldn't find a fuck within you. After years of denying yourself any sort of physical touch due to the shame that consumed you, Price had perceived it without effort and ordered you strip yourself of pretense in his presence.

"Let me show you...." Price wedged a boot between your feet, his hips brushing yours, other hand finding your hip. "...that the only thing broken is your confidence."

You nearly whimpered. "Please."

Without further contemplation, your eyes darted to his lips the same millisecond his darted to yours, and you both moved at once. Price groaned, one hand shooting into your hair, the other supporting the small of your back, tugging you close. His hungry mouth captured yours, teeth nipping your lower lip as he spun you around and pushed you back against the table.

You groaned into his mouth, your ass hitting the cool metal with abrupt force. His lips attacked your jawline, moved down to your neck, and another groan escaped you, this time in bliss.

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, throwing your hips into his, allowing desperation to guide you. "Captain..."

A low, menacing noise reverberated in his throat and he seized your neck again, bringing his mouth to your ear.

"My name," he took the lobe between his teeth, earning a squeak. "Say it."

"John—" You gasped, clawing at his back. "Shit."

"Mm. Good girl. So obedient..." he purred, tracing his mouth along the curve of your ear. "So responsive."

"Fuck." Every new beat of your heart brought a desperate pulse to your cunt. His fingers found your hair again, curling into a fist. "John...please..."

Your Captain hummed, just as his lips moved back to your pulse and attacked it, sucking rough rabid marks to the surface, his hips grinding against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and he moved lower, releasing your head to work on removing your clothes.

Before your belt even hit the floor, he was tearing off your shirt and tugging off your bra--exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dimly lit room, surging goosebumps to life that he was quick to cover with his hands, taking the fresh tissue between them and kneading it.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, to himself you presumed. "You're fucking perfect."

There was one brief second of thought surrounding the notion that any one of your teammates could walk in and find the two of you here—but that thought was quickly lost as Price leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You squealed, squeaking in pleasure, and his grip possessed your hips.

"So sensitive..." he said with a grunt. Your Captain wasn't just hungry—he was starved, more voracious by the second, spurred on by your reactions. "Fucking hell."

He leaned back, hooked his fingers under the waist of your pants and pulled, unconcerned for the ripping seams as he forced them down the curve of your thighs. Your head rung, entire body tingling. Paralyzed, you watched your Captain tear off your boots and rip your pants free, tossing them all to the side.

"Fuck me." He muttered again, returning his sights to your figure. "Look at you."

Price examined you like a meal, gaze traveling from your collarbone to your breasts, down past the curve of your belly to the swell of your hips, coming to a slow between your quivering thighs.

Adrenaline had got you this far. Reality was setting in. "Captain..."

"Shh," calloused hands found your hips, urging you back against the desk, spreading your legs further apart as he inserted himself between them. "I already told you what to call me."

You shuddered, twitching from his touch, and the corner of his lip quirked. Smouldering blue eyes searing into your skin. "John, I—"

His thumbs slid close to your heat, dipping into the crease and teasing close to the edge of your thong. Reality was a plummeting star, crashing down into your mind without regard. Nerves were consuming you, fingers digging into his biceps in attempt to stop them from shaking.

"You...what?" His voice was practically a lullaby. How something so deep could be so soothing was beyond your comprehension. "Go on, pretty thing..."

"I just..." you shifted your hips, trying to balance fear with desire. "I'm just...I don't want to disappoint you..."

Price assessed you, only for a moment, gracing your thigh with a stern yet gentle smack before trailing upward.

"Enough." It was an order. "I want you out of that beautiful mind."

He brushed his finger across your cunt, grazing over your swollen clit, and you choked, hips snapping toward him.

"Don't think..." the power in his words was intoxicating, a command given with the confidence of knowing you'd obey. He teased your clit again and you whinged, gripping him harder. "...just feel."

Before a coherent thought could enter your head, he pulled your panties to the side with two thick fingers, not giving you a second to brace for it before he used those same fingers and sank them into your tight, aching cunt.

"Oh—fuck-"

You groaned, head tossed back, walls tightening around the delicious stretch as he pried you open with slippery ease. The intensity, the fullness from just his fingers stole your breath, dizzied your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growling breath escaping his lungs, trying to ground yourself as much as you could.

"Christ...tight little cunts just soaked..." he was right, you were dripping. You couldn't ever remember being this wet. In truth, you couldn't ever remember being this turned on, this desperate for touch. "Tell me how that feels."

"G-oh, fuck—" any additional words you had planned on using instantly died on your tongue as Price curled inside of you, pushing deep, every coherent thought fleeing your mind with a moan. Your entire body pulsed for him, like he'd shaken every cell awake and enthralled it under his possession. "John—oh, Gods!"

It wasn't like you'd never been fingered. It'd just never felt like this.

Something about the trained motion of his hand, the skilled curl of his wrist, the attunement to your body was consuming you--the need for more only increasing as he found a perfect rhythm, fucking slow, reaching to your belly while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. Your cunt throbbed, squeezed around him, as if to coax him deeper inside of you.

"Needy little thing," an amused huff at the corner of your consciousness. You forced yourself to look at him—he was smirking. "Tell me how it feels."

Desperation was throbbing at your temples, growling and coiling in your belly—unfathomable, incredible desperation stalling your lungs. Unfamiliar, but entirely absentmindedly as Price stroked your walls, stroked your clit, and you were gasping, you were—

"So fucking good—" you were practically screaming, brain a mangled mess of aimless words. "Cap—John, I—I'm-"

His free hand seized your jaw, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his fingers still keeping their pace, your vision blurring to bliss. "You're?"

You gasped. "I’m-"

"You’re close." Fire flooded your flesh, and you mewled like a nervous, helpless animal. His grip tightened. Intensity and power radiating off him in waves. "S’ that what you want, little slut? Hm? You wanna’ fuckin’ cum for your Captain, don’t you?”

“Yes!” No thought required. “Pleasepleaseplease-“

“Mhm. That’s right, that’s right—“ he was just as gone as you were. Air rattled in your lungs like rocks. Your vision blurring as you held onto him like your life depended on it. “Cum on my fingers, darling, let me feel you.”

A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the gates of heaven themselves. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunting for air while he worked you through the receding tide of your release.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, the arrogance in his tone palpable. “Look how easy that was, hm?”

Your Captian pulled his fingers from cunt and yanked you off the table by the hold on your jaw—you stumbled into him, wetness seeping down your thighs, brain given less than two seconds to process the slew of events before his slick covered fingers were at your lips and pushing past your teeth.

"The way I see it, soldier—there are two possible explanations here." He shoved his fingers deeper, reaching for the back of your throat. "Either you somehow managed to lie to me..." he pressed against you, his desire evident in the way it was jabbing against your stomach. "Or this tight little cunt has never been properly sated."

Your heart was in your feet, your lips sealed around his fingers as you held his eyes, a shade of blue so deep you'd almost thought you were staring into the depths of the ocean. His pupils were blown wide with lust, it was clear what he was getting at—and judging by the way your cunt clenched in response to his words, it was clear that you felt the same.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, looking for a response. You gave the only words you could think of. "I didn’t lie…I’ve had sex, Captain...I’ve just never done—that.”

"Well I think I've just proven that it wasn’t due to any fault of your own." His words were backing you into a corner, an explanation that was challenging to draw yet completely impossible to now ignore. "I got you there in seconds."

Your face grew hot. “So..what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he assessed you, eyes looking past you, through you. “Your ex didn’t know what he was doing.” he leaned in closer, plush lips curling into a mischievous grin. “All you needed was someone who knew how to handle you.”

"Hm." The arrogance was stifling, setting you ablaze. It only made you want him more. "Cocky bastard."

"Cocky," he repeated with a raised brow. "You have no idea, princess.”

"You know what, Captain," you teased with a smirk of your own, unable to tear your sights off him. His eyes. His lips. "I think you just got lucky."

“Luck.” He chuckled—a deep, growling thing. "I don’t do luck, soldier. I do facts.” Price shifted a hand to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants as he pressed against you. “Fact one, I just gave you your first orgasm.” He was possessed, hungry, borderline rabid. “Fact two, I could do it again on my cock. If you’d like.”

And you, you were his eager, willing prey.

"Shit," you muttered, the words shooting straight to your cunt. You didn’t need any further discussion. You wanted him, and nothing could stop the next words from leaving your lips. "Please...please fuck me..."

Your Captain growled. The sweet desperation of your pleas sending him past the point of salvation. He sucked in a breath. Trapped it there—internally clutching whatever ounces of restraint he had left.

"You sure you want this?" His voice was so fucking low you almost missed it. His fingers moved to his belt, and his lips moved to your ear. "I'm not so sure you can take it."

"I'm built for combat, Captain..." you murmured with a grin, spurred on by the evidence of his throbbing desire, fingers trailing toward his belt to help him along. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Price huffed against your jawline. Amused.

"You’re built for combat, undoubtedly..." you watched as he pulled free his thick, heavy cock. Your jaw slackened, your mouth watered. "But by the time I'm done with you, darling..." he seethed in relief as he guided his hand back and forth along his length, other one directing you back against the table. "You'll be built for me."

A sharp intake of breath found your lungs and then you were lying flat against the table, cool metal biting your backside and ripping goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You shuddered, seething in discomfort, but two strong hands made quick work to soothe them, coasting up your thighs until they found your hips, and then he stepped forward.

"Christ..." you whimpered as he loomed over you, the warm head of his cock rolling over your clit, teasing you with false thrusts, making sure you were well aware of just how long and fucking thick he was. "John..."

"Quiet." He purred, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Just let me break you open."

His heavy, smooth tip pressed against your entrance and then pushed in, head just barely spearing you yet somehow still splitting your cunt with a girth that stole your breath and forced a cry from your throat. With a breathless groan he pulled out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing.

He smacked your thigh again. “Look at me.” He hissed, teeth sinking into the plush of his bottom lip as you instantly obeyed. “That’s it. Eyes on me.”

There was a mere second of silence before he sank in again, entirely this time—and though you were fucking sopped and pliant and voracious, he tore you wide with a sting.

"Oh—fuck-"

You fought for air, your body trembling, fingers clawing at anything that might steady you. He’d stuffed you full with ease, lungs heaving upon impact. Both big hands tightened around you, and he slid out, driving into you again with a hidden hiss of air, earning a loud, shameless groan from your lips.

"Fucking hell.” A dark, low voice rumbled from his throat. "Tight little whore. So fucking tight—"

"You're—oh, fuck—" words died on your tongue as he pulled out, pushed in again, sucking in air through his teeth, working you wider with each plunge into your pussy. You clenched around him, and he snuffed a moan, snapping his hips. "You're fucking huge."

"Mhm, yeah," it was a shameless admission. He placed a palm on your pelvis, pressing down, feeling himself fucking into you. He leaned back slightly, drawing long, slow strokes, forcing you to quake around every inch of his length. "That's how fucking deep I'm in you."

And deep he fucking was. Every centimeter banishing the ability to do anything other than exist as a stammering sheath for his cock. It wasn't penetration—it was pervasion, it was domination. Sex had never felt this intense. Sex had never felt this fucking tranquilizing.

"Christ—Cap-John—fuck—"

Price slid out and rocked in, driving to your stomach with a stab of blissful pain. Eyes snapping shut, you gripped his arms, seething when he thrusted again, and again. Each stroke shoved a cry from your chest, tightened your walls, and this only seemed to entice him, his cock splitting you apart. You scratched at his shoulders, fighting to find yourself in the bewildering delirium.

"There we go." His voice was distant in the sea of pleasure. "Look at you. Brainless on my fucking cock."

Your response was a moan, loud and shameless, gripping onto his arms and matching his rhythm, forcing your hips to his, a plea—faster, harder, more, more. Your Captain hissed in satisfaction, and his hand snaked between you, rolling and teasing your clit.

Your vision blurred for the hundredth time. "Oh, fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick. He fucked into you, his skin smacking yours, his breath heaving in feral huffs.

"Fucking perfect pussy," he growled through his teeth, shifting your legs together and directing both ankles over his left shoulder, his thrusts slowly slightly as you gasped and whimpered, clawing at his hips, the new position causing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. "Mm, fuck...this is what you needed, darling. You needed a proper fucking."

"Fuck," you replied, brain numbed by bliss. Words didn't even make sense. "Deep. So fuck—deep—"

"Fuck—take it, take it little slut." His thumb was back on your clit, swirling it in tight, fast circles, his cock fucking deep into you. "I warned you."

"John—" You needed to scream, fingers clawing at anything they could find. If you weren't broken before, you’d certainly be broken when he was done with you. "Fuck—"

Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. The feeling was so intense you didn't know what to do with yourself, you weren't sure if you could even get the words out to warn him.

Your eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck—I'm—I-I'm..."

"Yeah, that's right." He hissed, teeth barred, hips snapping. He already knew. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt milked his dick, your thighs spasming, your back reached for the ceiling, pleasure possessing your nerves.

"There we go—good little fucking slut—squeezing me so good," it seemed an eternity--he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, until he edged his climax. "Fucking hell."

He sputtered, pummelling your cunt with sloppy final thrusts, pouring his cum inside you, grip gouging your flesh until he descended, meeting you in the receding tides of your peaks. Both of you twitched with aftershocks, both of you seeking air.

Once he stalled, you sucked in a long inhale and peeled your eyes open, taking in your surroundings for the first time in however many minutes it had been. The room was still as dim and dreary as it was prior to your mind shattering, the only thing now different was your Captain—who remained looming over the table, cock still buried inside you, precipitation lining his forehead and chest still heaving for breath, piercing gaze perceiving you like a sated predator.

With a glance at your lips, he finally moved, pulling back and out of you, tucking himself away. It was then that reality struck you hard—you'd just fucked your Captain. And he'd just shattered the preconceived notions of everything you thought you knew.

You were not broken. You were perfectly fucking fine.

Price cleared his throat as you pulled yourself off of the table and stood. "Y'alright?"

You nodded, grabbing your pants off the floor. "Yes, Sir."

Shame engulfed you, for reasons you couldn't explain. Embarrassment threatened to swallow you whole.

"Hey." Sensing this, Price stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Don't do that."

Your eyes fixed on his. Outlining his perfectly tamed facial hair, his striking blue eyes. "Do what?"

"Avoid me." He simply stated, his voice hardly above a whisper. "All this was, was me proving to you that you're not broken. You're the furthest from. It doesn't have to be any more than that."

"I know…just feel stupid, I guess.” Your face was in flames. You swallowed your pride until it was digested. There was no room for that here, not after what’d just happened. “I, uh, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

Price regarded you with eyes warm as the summer sun, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “I wanted you to open up to me. Willingly. I never pry.”

You cracked a smile, slipping on your shoes. “You got your wish, then. Emotionally and physically.”

“Aye.” Your captain chuckled, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and plopping himself into a seat, sliding a glass across the table toward you. “My turn, yeah?”

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writingoddess1125 · 6 months

Text

Is That English?

Team 141 + Alejandro reacting to a American with a HEAVY Texan accent

Your Codename: Gigs aka Giggles

Watching a TV show and got the idea 💡

If you can guess the show I got the idea from you get a cookie 🍪

Support me on Ko-Fi! Helps me make more stories

"This is dangerous" Price muttered, even for him this was a heavy mission. Especially if it ment going after Graves- Kate nodded in agreement, the debrief had been a tough one and it didn't look very positive either..

"You're right- but it seems like this is possible with one hell of a pilot" Kate said with a knowing smirk, Price chuckling at this as the rest of the team listened in.

"I take it you have someone in mind?" Kate smiled, looking at her watch.

"Should be here in a few minutes. Let's head out" She said, The 5 men following closely behind her as they could see a chopper heading their way already.

"Best Pilot I've ever meet- Despite some quirks, is a seasoned one who can defend not only themsleves but the entire team" Kate said with a smirk, Ghost raising a brow at this.

Price took a puff of his cigar with a raised a knowing look at the wording. "Quirks?"

Kate didn't say more than that, instead waving down the chopper that was approaching the group.

The group of men standing there to see this mystery pilot that was so highly praised. The chopper lowered and some light shouting could be heard as their pilot made their appearance.

Stepping out and all the boys couldnt help but stare in surprise- walking toward them with a bright Kool-Aid smile was a young women, pretty as the day was long and like Aphrodite had taken a mighty fine time sculpting her too. Price blinked in surprise, such a chipper young women who looked as fresh faced as a new born baby was their seasoned dangerous pilot?

"Fuckin hell" Ghost muttered, clearly not impressed or amused- it was hard to tell.

Once she approached Price held out his hand, ever the gentleman.

"Good meeting ya lass, Captian Price" He said as he held his hand out, once again another surprise of the strong grip and the firm shake.

"How y'all doin, Pi'lot (Y/N)- But Igo' by Gigs sir" Ghost this time coughed as he turned away, most likely the closest he got to a laugh as there was a blink from Price and his face scrunched.

"Wanna run that by me again Lass?"

She laughed at his bewildered face and lack of understanding.

"Gigs Sir, For Giggles. I'm ya Pi'lot sir"

"I got absolute'y no idea what the fuck she's saying- What magical language is th's?.." Gaz said, clearly speaking what the others were thinking as Soap just blinked trying to wrap his head around what was being said.

(Y/N) gave them a deadpan look- "Fuckin' Brit" She grumbled.

"Now that I understood" Soap laughed, Grinning from ear to ear at the pretty lady.

"No that right here is a Texan- Know them well" Alejandro said with a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Alejandro, I take it your from Texas Señora?" He said and she grinned widely, roughly patting his shoulder in affection.

"Damn straight"

"Texas? This we hearin now is a texas accent? Youre speaking English" Ghost mused, defiently never meeting someone with such a thick one. Gigs grinning at him and nodding.

"Thats right skully, red blooded engl'sh and all" She said with a wink at him making Gaz choke a laugh.

"Now Boys. We got us some baddi's to catch! No dilly dal!" She said with a laugh, clapping her hands in excitement as she ran off to load up the chopper to get the boys to their next mission.

Soap chuckled at this as he watched her walk away, staring at the sway of her ass, Only in America is seemed. Looking up at Ghost and the rest as he held his hands up-

"Ah think a'm into it"

#cod ghost #soap cod #cod x reader #cod mwii #call of duty imagine #call of duty thoughts #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #captian john price #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #ghost #gaz x reader #captian price x reader #price x reader #captian price #john soap mactavish

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sirenmoth · 25 days

Text

Sunshine

CW: ANGST, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, hurt/no comfort, blood, violence, war, song fic, sorry not sorry (yes this is a mix between MW2 2009 and MW3 2023...kinda)

I am not paying for anyones therapy after this (ngl tired up a bit while writing this)

I know i mentied i would write this for someone but i cant find the og post, sorry if you are that person

AO3

"SOAP!"

The bomb detonated, the room exploded in a mess of smoke and debris, his body thrown out the window of the building and landing on the harsh concrete below, the blood a deep red was seeping into the cracks on the concrete, it was obvious from where Price stood, he rushed over to his fallen comrades body, helping him up as best as possible without hurting him even more, trying to get him to safety before it was too late, but the blood on his and Soap's clothes was more than enough evidence it might be an impossible task.

Nikolai and Yuri were at the front and back of the duo, scanning and taking out any hostile they spotted while the Captain held his teammates' barely conscious body against his own, taking most of the Scotsman's weight as they ventured though the battlefield riddled streets, a small trail of blood was behind them, but Price tried not to think about it, but the more blood he lost the more Captain Price began to worry.

Gunshots and explosions rang out from every direction around him, Price struggled to keep his injured Sergeant, his brother in arms, awake. Barely making it to cover as the bullets rained down around them in a war-torn and dusty building, it will have to do. Gaz and Ghost arrived just as Price got Soap towards a table in the centre of the room.

Soap was trying to say something, but Price couldn't hear it over his own voice shouting for a medic.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆

Laying the Scotsman down on the wooden table, Gaz tried desperately to stop the bleeding, tried to keep Soap talking while he aided the bleeding with the help of Ghost, hoping the wounded man could hold on just long enough until the medics arrived. Price stood at the end, next to Soap's head, shouting and screaming orders at people, shooting at the window at any hostiles, trying to keep the man on the table alive while he bleeds onto the wood below him.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒚

It was hard, watching the one many considered and referred to as the light of the Task Force, their shining sun who never failed to brighten someone's day, even if he didn't like them or knew them, lay limp and struggling to breath in front of them, choking on his own blood and tongue, watching try desperately to cling to life, Ghost tried to remain calm in hopes if we rub off on the others, but even the Captain could see he was breaking. Gaz already had tears lining his waterline while attending to the never stopping stream of blood coming from Soaps abdomen, his eyes blurry with tears, while the man who laid before him had the light draining from his.

𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪

The regrets and unspoken words filled and danced around the three men's mind, things they said and never, as well as things they never said nor did. The times they would listen to Johnny ramble for hours, unable to understand him when his accent got too thick, the times they shunned him for being loud and obnoxious. Talking about emotional problems and feelings wasn't a big thing on the Task Force, the four choose to remain private about their struggles, even Soap, but that never stopped him from being emotionally expressive and attempting to get the others to do the same, only succeeding partially with Kyle and Price, Ghost would never admit it worked on him to. He never shied away from telling them how much he appreciated them and loved them, how he enjoyed their company and time together. If only they said it back.

𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮

The medics finally showed up, and Price had half a mind to yell at them for being late, but he knew that wouldn't do any good. The medics shooed away Gaz and Ghost from their comrades body, shouting and saying thing none of them understood as they cut open Soap's tried to clean and pack the wound with gauze and antiseptic, checking his pulse and breathing, until they didn't, until they stopped everything and moved away from the Sergeant.

Price shouted at them to do their job, "What the bloody hell are you doing? You're supposed to help people, so fucking help him." But they medics just looked at each other, then back at the Captain, and shook their head, that's when they knew why they stopped.

Johnny, their sunshine, was gone.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝘼𝙨 𝙞 𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜

The days after the Sergeants' death were painful, the nights were worse. John's mind replayed the incident over and over in his head like a film stuck on loop, unable to stop the reel from projecting the same images time after time. How could have things gone differently? Could things have gone differently? Maybe is he tried better, worked harder, Soap would still be here, alive and well. If he hadn't signed Johnny back into active duty so early after his medical leave, maybe he would be alive back in his north Glasgow flat or sitting beside them at some sleazy pub that was close to base.

𝙄 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙄 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙄𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨

Sometimes on those extra rough days, when his mind felt cruel and the need to punish him, it would show Price a dream of Johnny alive, in a hospital bed recovering from his injuries and smiling like nothing happened. The Task Force around him, each giving their own forms of physical affection to the man in the hospital bed attached to an IV, talking about a pub he wants to visit when he's relived. The jokes and laughter that filled the air, the four of them together, alive and well, like it's meant to be, but it was too real, all too good to be true.

Price was never ready to face reality after those dreams, he could see the toll of the missing member is having on the remaining ones.

𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙖𝙬𝙤𝙠𝙚, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣

Every night was the same, dream of his Sergeants death, wake in a cold startle, and wait for the reality of it all to sink back in. The base was quiet, too quiet, too dull and lifeless, rec room and mess hall never had the same warmth and spark it once had, like Johnny took it with him. Price noted it in the other two, watching them as they stared as now empty spaces the dead Scotsman used to once occupy, sometimes it felt like Soap took something of them as well when he died. His room left untouched, undisturbed, everything was as he left behind, exactly the same. Price felt like they were waiting for him to come back, knowing it would never happen.

𝙎𝙤 𝙄 𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙

Walking into Mactavish's old barracks room, the previous dream still heavy on his mind. John finally let himself go, crying silently to an empty room as he pleaded to the air to Soap to come back, how he should've done better, how he failed his men and his position as Captain to protect them and bring them home safe and sound.

But now he was another fallen soldier's blood on his already permanently stained hands.

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚

Captain Price had to deliver the news of Soaps passing to Mrs. Mactavish, let her know what happened to her baby boy, her adoring son, and why he hasn't answered her monthly calls. He couldn't look her in her eyes, the same eyes Soap once had as her pained wails and sobs reached his ears, her sorrow and grief and heartache made John's own heart stop, watching her mourn the fact her darling boy was never coming home to her again.

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙮

The base never the same, the Task Force was never the same. Their shining sun, so bright and warm, had burned through its life cycle and fizzled into nothing more than ash and dust. Mrs. Mactavish was kind enough to give them a small share of her sons ashes in an urn, knowing how much they meant to Johnny after listening to him rant about the men over their phone calls, saying it's the least she could do for them, her smile never reaching her eyes when she handed them her cremated son, the dull life and dep mourning sorrow ever present in the once bright blue eyes.

𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪

Standing now in the highlands, Johnny always said they should visit and gave recommendations as to where for each of them, talking about his childhood there and how stunningly breathtaking it is, how the scenery fells unreal at times, like a painting came to life. They never thought the first time the place Soap held so dear would be his funeral, that visiting the Scottish Highlands meant scattering his ashes over the loch he grew up near. The sun setting over the water, casting a wonderful view, Price would have admired it and commented on how Johnny was right, if he wasn't here to say goodbye to one of his closet friends.

"He was the best of us"

"The toughest"

"Would've fought the world bear handed"

They hold the urn to say their farewells, silently wishing this wasn't happening and the reality they are living, silently giving their sorry's. Could he hear them from wherever he is?

"Who dares wins, sleep easy solider"

"See you down range, brother. We'll take it from here"

"Rest in peace, Johnny"

The urn opens, and they let his ashes scatter in the wind, watching them dance and sway wherever it took them. With the sunset it made it easy for Price to think he could see Johnny one last time, dancing in the late evening sky, before the wind carried him away to what came next.

𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮

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