JOHN PRICE // policeofficer!price, f!reader, nurse!reader, reader having a teenage son, divorced!reader, fluff, comfort, mention of witnessing a murder, p in v, unprotected sex, cowgirl, mention of john having possible (tiny) troubles finishing
"ASDA, Hollyhedge Road. Detained shoplifter, juvenile, male. Requesting response."
That was how John met your son.
When he pulled up and walked into the store, Theo was sitting on the floor, his knees tucked into his chest, his backpack open, a couple of cans of Red Bull and crisps nearby. He looked scared, and when John stood next to him, leaning against the wall, he didn't even look up.
That look, that demeanor, those slightly trembling shoulders told John everything he needed to know.
"Got 'nough to pay for this?"
He wasn't a fifteen-year-old kid stealing food because there wasn't even sugar at home. He was a kid getting into trouble for the first time, through his own stupidity.
When John called you, Theo looked up.
"Mum's gonna to kill me."
You rushed in from the hospital nearby, bag over your shoulder, zip-up jacket open, and still wearing scrubs. Your boss let you off an hour early while you were rambling about your boy being caught by the police. You were a hard worker, often staying a couple of hours after your shift just to help the remaining patients and get them discharged. And your boy getting into trouble nearly gave you a heart attack.
You were glad he was okay. Pale-faced, clearly stressed, he paid for the things and sat down to write a letter. One apology and one understanding. Your leg twitched as you sat in the small office at the police station and watched your boy write. But the man who called you? He wasn't worried. In fact, he offered you tea, seeing your state.
"And there won't be any permanent record?"
"He committed a mistake, not a crime."
A mistake. Yes, you already had an idea of what might have caused it.
Theo's hands froze at the mention of his name, and then he nodded hesitantly. Jay. That boy you'd heard about before. A guy from Theo's school who'd tried to challenge him several times before. And apparently, it worked this time. And even though Theo had asked you not to interfere, that he wanted to handle it himself, you still decided you'd intervene. At least talk to the teachers.
And that evening, when you left the station with a very stressed teenager, you got a number written on a small sticky note, folded and tucked in the front pocket of your scrubs.
Your first date wasn't romantic. There's nothing romantic about you being post-twelve-hour-shift and him after especially rough one where he had to run after a suspect. You both are sitting on a bench in the park, his car parked just nearby. You usually drive home by bus, but since he offered you a ride, you couldn't say no.
"He's not a bad person, Mark's just..." You sighed, trying to find words to describe your ex-husband.
"'m not gonna judge if ya call him names."
"I know. But I don't want to. He's the reason I have Theo at the first place."
"But he's also the reason ya're raisin' 'im alone, I s'pose?"
You didn't answer to that, just took a sip from a cup of coffee you two bought from the stall down the path.
Calling Mark a bad parent would be bad. Because he wasn't. He had Theo at his house every weekend, and the boy had every right to stay with him at any day he wanted. Mark paid the child support, showed up for school events and holidays, but he just...
"Was married as well." John interrupted your thoughts, looking at his empty paper cup.
"Mm. Clara. Was a nurse.:
"Do I bring back bad memories now?" You grinned and nudged his shoulder, trying to lighten the mood.
Because he looked sad, telling that. And he was. Clara was no bad woman, but she was the one who broke John's heart so bad, he didn't talk to anyone about the divorce. He even wore his wedding ring for two more years, failing at imagining himself without one.
He felt bare. Stripped down of all the happiness and goodness he ever had.
But with you, smiling so brightly and waiting for his reaction?
"Nah." He shook his head.
You were different. He already felt it.
It was a rough night. One that meant he was aching from head to toe, inside and outside, and even if he drunk warm milk, the sleep was nowhere to be found. He thought he was fine, he told sergeant that he was. Absolutely fine, despite being the one seeing the suspect driving away and running over the innocent person on a pedestrian crossing.
She was 23, a student who just started her masters program. Crossing the road from the local library, where she had a long study session. With a bag on her shoulder, phone in hand, she was paying attention, looking right and left even though the light was green before stepping her foot on the road.
And one stupid drug dealer just decided he could hit the gaz with all his might to escape the justice.
John couldn't unhear the scream her mother made when he called her from the station. Couldn't unsee how she dropped to her knees, muttering "no, no, no, baby". Couldn't unclench his jaw as her father hugged his wife, sobbing as well.
You knew something was wrong when he called you at three at the morning. You were asleep, the house was quiet, Theo at Mark's. But when you picked up and heard his voice shaking?
John lay in your arms for what felt like a moment and an eternity all at once. Just holding you in his bed, feeling your palms hugging his head and breathing into his hair, he felt like the weakest person on Earth. He was a man, damn it. The man. The one who had the right to hold a gun. The one who used the said gun when he had to.
But he was there now. Shaking, pulling you closer, and feeling his heartbeat stabilizing. Slowly, just as you patted his hair.
"Thank ya." He murmured, not willing to let you go.
"Nice. Now you can dig into dirt like you did back when dinosaurs where still there."
You shot Theo a look, and he backed away, raising his hands in a plaued surrender. But you couldn't be fooled. Not when he had this small smile of his, indicating he was only joking. You should probably hide all the razors. See how he will survive without an opportunity to shave his thin stubble.
"Fixed the lock. Ya can test it out now." John said, getting back into the living room.
His living room, the size of which could be compared to your room at your old flat multiplied by two.
"Thanks. I'll check the WiFi now." Theo nodded.
You let Theo go into his room, the biggest out of three that John had in his house. His cottage was more spacious than the flat you two had been living in for the past seven years. And, judging how serious your relationship with John were, it was only the matter of time before you end up living together.
But the decision wasn't easy.
Theo was your top priority, and even if the school wasn't that far away, and he still could come to his friends' as often as he did before, you still were hesitant. Because it was your son, the boy who was wary of John for your first two months of dating, preferring not to interact with him and just sit in his room whenever John came by. You didn't want Theo to feel like he was suddenly being left of the outskirts of your life, as you were now dating someone.
But the boy liked the way John handed him the biggest of two guestrooms and offered to fix the router so that connection in his room would be the best in the house.
"You can win him over too easily, can't you?"
John got closer to you, and you felt his hand on your hip before he squeezed it. You raised you eyebrows and leaned closer, whispering.
"Saw 'im puttin' 'is headphones on." John murmured, already planting a soft kiss on your temple.
It always took longer to get there than to actually be there.
With John not getting any younger, and you being not in your twenties anymore, you both never rushed into this. No quickies, no bending over the surfaces, and definitely not something that will put pressure on his left knee.
"Feel good?" You asked, kissing his kneecap, as he sat on the bed, back to the backframe.
"Yeah." He nodded, placing his palm on your shoulder and encouraging you to move closer.
It came with a lot of kisses.
The ones that were firstly softly placed on his jaw, feeling the thick hair of his beard on your lips, as you cupped his face. Then his ears, so surprisingly sensitive, that it made him squeeze your now bare hip once again, feeling his skin starting to burn from sensation. And, finally, his lips.
"Ah..." You both exhaled into each other's mouths as you sank down on him.
The good old cowgirl was your favorite. With you being able to control the pace, and him not working about hurting his once wounded knee, it was your go-to.
With slow motions of you hips up and down, as John placed both his hands on your back, you bit your lip, swallowing the moan that was about to leave your mouth. It was good. Too good.
"Not... there yet..." John exhaled, feeling you begin to tense up.
You knew better than to rush it. With his age getting hold of his bodily functions, and you not being able to finish at all sometimes, you just slowed down, riding him nice and thorough, listening to his quiet moans and feeling him squeezing you skin.
You could find love being older. And the said love could as well find you. Unexpectedly.
tags: @prettybpony @devoted-buttons @mvstercvrd @lilpothoscuttings @other-fandoms-reblogs @eastern-side-of-the-heart @drugs-and-daddyissues @itsnayumenko-blog @rios-st4rs @leahsfantasy @1-800-bobcut @cocolocorococo
