Character: GN!Reader x John Price
Tone: Fluff
Word count: 390
Prompt: Shared hoodie
Cod Advent Calendar masterlist ● Main Masterlist
Price finally made it home after the kind of trip that made his shoulders feel like they were carrying bricks. He let himself inside, kicked his boots off in the hall, and headed toward the living room with the simple goal of sitting somewhere that wasn’t a transport seat.
You were on the couch, fully awake, legs tucked under a blanket, watching some random show you’d clearly put on just for background noise. And you were wearing his old S.A.S. hoodie, the black one with the faded lettering on the sleeve. It was oversized on you, the hood practically swallowing your head and the sleeves hanging way past your hands.
Price stopped in the doorway and shook his head a little. “You’ve raided my stuff again”
You didn’t look even remotely guilty. “It was cold. Also, you left it on top of the dresser. That’s practically an invitation”
He walked in and sat beside you, letting out a long, tired exhale as he sank into the cushions. “Didn’t think you’d still be up”
“Yeah. Figured I’d wait for you until you got home”
He nodded, rubbing a hand over his face before leaning back. “Appreciate it”
You glanced at him, then nudged his arm. “Food situation?”
“Haven’t eaten yet” he said. “Thinking of making something simple”
“I can make us something”
He shook his head. “No, stay. I’ll handle it. I’ve been dreaming of my own kitchen for days”
You snorted. “That’s sad”
“Probably” he said, pushing himself up with a small grunt. “You want anything specific?”
“Something that doesn’t involve that ridiculous mustard you like”
“It’s good mustard” he called over his shoulder as he walked toward the kitchen.
“It tastes like regret” you shot back.
He waved you off without turning around.
You pulled the hood of his hoodie a little further over your head and stretched your legs out under the blanket. Price rummaged around in the kitchen like a man returning to civilization, opening cabinets he already knew the contents of, muttering to himself about where he put the bread.
Normal. Casual. The same routine you always fell back into when he got home.
A few minutes later he popped his head back into the living room. “You keeping that hoodie permanently?”
Character: GN!Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Tone: Fluff
Word count: 356
Prompt: Shopping chaos
Cod Advent Calendar masterlist ● Main Masterlist
You knew taking Soap shopping on a Saturday could be risky, but you hadn’t realized just how distracting he could be. From the moment you entered the store, his eyes were wide with excitement.
“Look at all this!” he said, spinning slowly in the aisle. “It’s like a treasure map!”
“You’re buying toothpaste” you said, grabbing the cart before he wandered off.
“That’s just the beginning” he replied, holding up a giant stuffed animal like it was a rare artifact. “Meet Sir Fluffles. He will protect the cart”
You laughed and gently took it from him. “We don’t need him”
But he had already spotted the snack aisle. You turned your back for a second, and when you looked again, he was holding three bags of chips and examining another one as if it were a fine wine.
“These are essential” he said seriously. “For movie night”
“We live in an apartment. We don’t need a mountain of snacks” you said, trying to stack them neatly in the cart.
Next, the novelty section called to him. He picked up a kitchen gadget shaped like a dinosaur and inspected it like it was a complicated tool. “We need this” he said.
“No, we don’t” you replied, laughing.
“Yes, we do” he insisted, already placing it in the cart.
In the home aisle, he found a mop and immediately started twirling it like a sword. An older couple walked past, looking concerned. “Soap!” you hissed. “Not in the store!”
He stopped, grinning sheepishly. “I’m testing the balance, very important”
By the time you reached checkout, the cart was overflowing. Soap was still smiling, clearly proud of his selections, including a small tomato-shaped timer, the dinosaur gadget, and three bags of chips leaning dangerously.
The cashier raised an eyebrow. “Find everything okay?”
Soap nodded earnestly. “Oh yes, we found everything we needed… and some things we didn’t knew we needed.”
Outside, the sun was setting. Soap carried most of the bags while holding your hand, grinning like a child who had just won a small victory.
“You’re lucky I love you” you said as you shook your head, smiling.
Character: GN!Reader x Captain John Price
Tone: Fluff
Word count: 453
Prompt: Mistletoe
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You notice the mistletoe when you tilt your head back to finish your drink.
It takes a second for your brain to register what you are looking at, and then you let out a quiet laugh. Of course there is mistletoe. Soap had been suspiciously cheerful all afternoon, and now you know why.
The safehouse looks nothing like it usually does. There are string lights taped along the walls, a small fake tree shoved into the corner, and someone has put tinsel in places that make absolutely no sense. It feels strange and kind of nice, especially since this is your first Christmas here. More importantly, it is your first Christmas with Price.
You are still standing there, staring up at the mistletoe, when you hear familiar footsteps behind you.
“What’s caught your attention?” Price asks.
You turn around, lifting your mug slightly. “Look up”
He does, and for a moment he just blinks. Then a small smile appeared on his lips, the kind he only seems to use with you.
“Well” he says “that explains a few things”
You grin. “We can move if you want”
Price looks at you for a second, then glances up at the mistletoe again like he is weighing his options. When his gaze comes back to you, there is something gentle there, a bit of amusement.
“Do we have to?” he asks.
You shrug, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know, might be dangerous, rules and all that” He huffs a quiet laugh and steps closer anyway.
“I’m not overly concerned” You laugh softly, and before you can say anything else, he reaches out and takes your mug from your hands. He sets it on the table beside you like it is the most natural thing in the world, then rests his hand at your waist. The touch is easy, familiar, not rushed.
“First Christmas with the team” he says “Didn’t expect it to look like this”
“Good or bad?” you ask.
“Good” he answers without hesitation “Difinetely, good”
You look up at him, and for a moment neither of you says anything. Then he leans in, slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you don’t.
The kiss is warm and easy, more sweet than anything else. It lasts just long enough to make you smile, his thumb moving slightly at your side like he is not in any hurry to let go. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.
“Merry Christmas” he says quietly.
You smile. “It’s not even Christmas yet”
“Still counts” he replies, pressing another this time quick and gentle kiss to your lips before stepping back just enough to grab your mug again and hand it to you.
Character: Fem!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley
Tone: Fluff
Word count: 420
Prompt: ugly sweater
Cod Advent Calendar masterlist ● Main Masterlist
It was late December, and the living room smelled faintly of pine and burnt cookies. You were perched on the edge of the couch, tugging at the sleeves of an atrociously oversized Christmas sweater, the kind that jingled faintly with every movement because someone had stitched tiny bells onto the shoulders. Your hair was in a messy bun, and your cat had claimed the armchair as its own.
The front door opened, and Ghost stepped in, carrying his usual air of calm menace. He paused just inside the threshold, looking at you like he was measuring whether you were joking or serious.
You held up your sweater with both hands. “What do you think? Cute, right?”
He blinked, tilted his head, and then walked toward you slowly. “That thing is… loud” he said finally, the single word carrying both judgment and amusement.
“It’s supposed to be loud” you said, grinning. “It’s festive. You’re wearing one too”
He froze. “No”
“Yes” you said, tossing a second sweater at him. It was green, knitted unevenly, with a giant, lopsided snowman stitched across the front. The snowman’s hat drooped to one side, and there was a tiny scarf dangling from one shoulder. “It’s tradition”
He caught it mid-air, studied it carefully, and muttered something under this breath.
“I know you love me” you reminded him, and that earned a very reluctant, quiet sigh.
He stripped off his jacket and tugged the sweater over his head. The arms were far too long, the neck stretched oddly over his shoulders, and for a moment, he looked like a soldier trapped in a holiday craft project. He glanced down at himself. “I look ridiculous” he said, voice neutral but slightly amused.
“You look perfect” you said, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Absolutely perfect in this”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he came closer. “You’re insane” he murmured again, and this time it came out soft, almost fond.
“Maybe” you said, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “but you’re cute when you complain about it”
He chuckled, low and warm, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I can’t tell what is worse, missions or this sweater”
“You’ll survive” you said with this warm smile.
He let out a short laugh, the kind he reserved only for you, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “You’re ridiculous” he said quietly, and then added with a softer tone, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way”
Character: GN!Reader and Simon "Ghost" Riley
Tone: Fluff
Word count: 325
Prompt: Snowstorm
Cod Advent Calendar masterlist ● Main Masterlist
It’s been hours since you both managed to find a place hide. This empty building was the best you found. Ghost already swept the place to make sure it was empty and safe before coming back to you.
“Building’s safe” he said, looking around for a place to warm up. The snowstorm outside slammed against the broken windows, rattling the walls. It was cold inside, but way warmer than out there.
“You sure it was a good idea to hide instead of going further? I’m sure if we—” You started, but he stopped you.
“If we kept trying to get to the safehouse we’d end up frozen to death” He didn’t look at you as he spoke, instead hunting around for some dry wood. He found a few frozen, but not wet, pieces and set up a small fire. “Trust me, this kind of storm isn’t something you survive easily”
It took a few minutes, but soon there was a small, steady flame. The warmth hit your skin and made you shiver less. You sank to the floor near the fire, watching him settle across from you.
“You always plan for this stuff, huh?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
“Not always” he said, finally looking at you. “But when I do, I make sure it actually works” He smirked slightly.
You stretched your legs out, letting the heat seep in. “I could get used to this” you admitted.
“Yeah?” He tilted his head, resting his elbow on his knee. “Don’t get too comfortable, with the snowstorm like this we need to be careful”
You laughed softly, and he chuckled too, it was comforting. For the first time in hours, the storm outside felt like it couldn’t touch you.
“Good thing we found this place” you murmured.
“Yeah” he agreed. You both sat there quiet for a moment letting the whistling of the wind and the warmth of the fire settle in.
Character: GN!Reader and Captain John Price
Tone: Fluff
Word count: 542
Prompt: Scarf
Cod Advent Calendar masterlist ● Main Masterlist
The base had gone quiet in the way it always did on holidays, when most of the lights were still on but the people were gone. You sat on the concrete steps just outside the main building, your elbows resting on your knees, your hands tucked uselessly into your sleeves. The cold started to seep deeper but you tried to ignore it.
Earlier, you had watched your team leave one by one. Soap had waved awkwardly before heading off, promising he would bring leftovers back. Ghost had given you a brief nod, the kind that said more than words ever did, before disappearing toward his truck. Gaz had smiled apologetically, already halfway distracted by a phone call from home. They all had places to be, people waiting for them, warmth that had nothing to do with heaters or walls.
But you stayed.
The soap bubbles you had been lazily blowing drifted and popped in the air, dissolving almost as soon as they formed. It was a pointless thing to do, but it kept your hands busy and your thoughts quiet. Christmas lights hung along the edge of the building, glowing softly, festive in a way that felt almost ironic.
You did not hear Price approach at first. His footsteps were familiar, but you had grown used to the base sounds blending together. Before you noticed him, you felt something warm settle around your neck.
You froze.
The scarf was thick and worn, clearly not new. It smelled faintly of some sort of perfume only one person used. Price leaned forward just enough to adjust it properly, his hands careful, almost hesitant, as he tucked the ends in so they would not drag against the steps.
“There” he said quietly. “That’s better”
You swallowed. “Sir, you–“
“You look cold” he replied, interrupting gently. You reached up, fingers brushing the fabric as if to confirm it was real. It was warmer than you expected, the kind of warmth that lingered instead of fading immediately into the air.
You let out a small breath. “You could have gone home too, you know”
He gave a short, almost amused exhale. “This is home, for better or worse, always has been”
There was a pause. The base behind you, was quiet while the night stretched out ahead, vast and empty.
“You do not like being alone on days like this” Price said, not as a question.
You hesitated, then shook your head. “I am used to it, does not mean I enjoy it”
He nodded, as if you had confirmed something he already knew. “Fair enough”
You glanced back at him. “Is this your scarf?”
“It is” he answered without hesitation.
“You are going to get cold” You wanted to give him back the scarf but he stopped you.
“I will survive” he said. Then, after a brief pause “Besides, I would rather you have it”
Your chest tightened at that, an emotion rising that you were not prepared to name.
“Thank you” you said softly.
He did not respond right away. Instead, he moved to sit beside you on the steps, close enough that your shoulders nearly touched.
“Don’t stay out to long, okay?” Price said at last. “There will be hot tea waiting inside”
Character: GN!Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish and Captain John Price
Tone: Angst
Word count: 1024
Prompt: Cold hands
TW/CW⚠️: grief, trauma, dissociation, major character death, PTSD themes
Cod Advent Calendar masterlist ● Main Masterlist
It has been a month since the mission, and your hands still do not feel like they belong to you.
You are sitting at the small kitchen table in your flat, fingers wrapped around a mug that has long since gone cold. There is no real reason for you to feel cold, yet you keep your hands cupped as if guarding them from something. You stare at nothingness trying to remember when you made the tea the first place. The memory slips away the moment you reach for it.
They told you that being pulled from the field was temporary, that it was standard procedure after witnessing something traumatic, especially when the person is close to the one that was lost. Everyone used careful words, chosen to avoid pressing too hard. You nodded and agreed because it was easier than explaining that the world had started to feel unreal the moment Johnny’s hands went cold in yours. You have not trusted yourself since.
There is a knock at the door that startles you, sharp and insistent in the quiet flat. For a moment, you do not move, convinced that if you stay still long enough, the sound will fade and take the expectation with it. When the knock comes again, you finally stand, to check up who is behind the door insisting on seeing you.
Price is on the other side of the door when you open it. He looks older than you remember, the lines around his eyes deeper, his expression caught somewhere between concern and restraint. He takes you in with a quick glance, noting the shadows under your eyes and the way your shoulders seem permanently drawn inward.
“Mind if I come in?” he asks gently.
You step aside without speaking, and he enters your flat, closing the door behind him. The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, until he clears his throat.
“How’re you holding up?” Price asks, though the question sounds like an obligation rather than an expectation of a real answer.
You shrug, the movement small. “I’m fine.”
The lie feels hollow even as it leaves your mouth, but Price does not call you on it. He moves toward the table and gestures to the chair across from you.
“Been a month,” he says quietly. “Thought it might be time we talked.”
You sit because he asks you to, because following instructions is still easier than making decisions of your own. Your gaze drifts to your hands as they settle in your lap. They look normal enough, steady and warm. You press your thumb into your palm, just hard enough to feel it, grounding yourself in the sensation.
Price notices. Of course he does.
“They’re worried about you,” he says. “Medical. Command. Hell, all of us.”
“I know,” you reply, though it sounds distant, as if someone else is speaking through you.
“You’ve been cleared physically,” Price continues, carefully. “But they don’t want you back in the field yet. Not after what you saw.”
What you saw. The words echo unpleasantly in your mind.
You were there when Johnny died. You were more than a witness. You were holding him, begging him to stay, feeling the life drain out of him one second at a time. Reducing that to observation feels wrong in a way that makes your chest ache.
You swallow and nod, eyes still fixed on your hands. “I get it.”
Price sighs softly. “Do you?”
The question hangs between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. Price watches you for a long moment before speaking again, as if weighing every word.
“I know it’s harder for you,” he says at last, his voice low and careful. “Because of your shared history with Johnny.” He pauses, then continues, “That’s why psych didn’t clear you. Not yet, at least. This isn’t a punishment. It’s to keep you safe.”
You nod, though you are not entirely sure you understand what safe is supposed to feel like anymore.
He reaches across the table then, slow enough that you notice the movement before it happens. His hand closes gently around yours, steady and deliberate. The contact pulls your attention back to your body in a way that feels abrupt, almost uncomfortable.
Your hands are cold. Cold in a way that does not match the warmth of the room or the warmth of his handas. For a split second, his thumb tightens instinctively, and you see the flicker of recognition cross his face before he smooths it away.
“They’re freezing,” he says quietly.
The words hit you harder than you expect. Your mind slips, unanchored, and suddenly you are not in your kitchen anymore. You are standing over a casket, the polished wood reflecting too much light, the room too quiet. You remember how Johnny looked laid out like that, how unreal it felt to see him still. You remember touching his hands one last time, expecting warmth that never came.
You pull in a slow breath, grounding yourself in the pressure of Price’s hand around yours.
“Go take a warm bath,” Price says gently. “I’ll stay. We’ll get some heat back into you.” His voice softens further. “And you need to eat something warm too. You’ve probably been running on empty stomach”
You look down at your hands where they rest between the two of you. They look the same as they always have. Nothing about them suggests how wrong they feel.
“I don’t notice when it happens,” you admit quietly. “The cold. I just… drift.”
Price nods once. “That’s part of it,” he says.
He does not let go of your hands right away. He keeps holding them, firmly but gentle, as if anchoring you in place. The warmth slowly begins to seep back in, a slight tingling feeling showing in your fingers.
For the first time since he arrived, you feel something loosen in your chest. It’s not relief nor healing, but the smallest sense of being held in the present instead of the past. You let him guide you to your feet. And when you move toward the bathroom, you do not feel quite as alone as you did before.
