You liked sitting on his lap. John liked when you sat on his lap. It was something he could never refuse, so when you asked tonight, he said;
"Just for a few minutes, my love. I'm tired tonight."
Tired he most certainly was. In some form or another, John was always tired. It made sense, considering the pressure and stress that was bestowed upon him on a daily basis.
He had meant it when he said "just for a few minutes," and you totally respected his wishes.
Cut to 45 minutes later, you were still on his lap, doing much more than just sitting.
Somewhere along the way, T-shirts and pants were stripped and discarded for the night, leaving both of you bare and exposed to one another.
The gentle kisses and touches turned hot and passionate, and before he knew it, you were rising and sinking on his cock like your life depended on it.
The insides of your thighs and his lap were soaked, leaking down the sides of his hips onto the mattress beneath him. His hands were glued to your waist, holding on to you like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world.
And frankly, you were the only thing that mattered right now.
John Price was a mess. His brain was so foggy and fuzzy that he couldn't form a singular thought other than a silent beg to you that said: please don't stop.
He was groaning, whimpering, and moaning every time you slammed back down onto his cock. The noises coming out of him were so desperate and so raw...so needy.
In a way, you almost felt bad for working him like this when you knew how exhausted he was. Although, John wasn't complaining in the slightest because tired or not -- this was perfect.
The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock and his tip prodding far inside of you was intoxicating. He could do this forever if he could.
A fuck-drunk smile spread on his face as he peered at you through glazed eyes, his voice strained and breathy.
“F-Fuck,” Price heaved, his chest rising and falling with every deep inhale and exhale of air. “Keep fuckin’ me just like that, baby.”
Your hands were splayed on his chest, as you rocked, dragged, and rolled your hips on his cock so perfectly that he was sure that he was dreaming this up.
"Pretty baby...s-so fuckin' beautiful," He whimpered, struggling to even get the words out. "My pretty girl."
His lips were hot and trembling when he lifted himself enough to kiss you, his heart fluttering when you softly laughed.
"I love you, John." You whispered against his lips, his cock twitching inside of you from all the stimulation.
"Oh fuck, darling..." He groaned, gasping for air. "I love you."
If this is what "sitting on his lap" would be from now on, then his seat was always open.
John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem! Reader
Tags: NSFW. Smut. Cockwarming. Soap being a jerk lol.
A/N: Horrible title. Will change it when I come up with something better.
Word Count: 1.0k
"Your odds are lookin' good."
"Hey, hey..." Soap warned, his grip on your hips tightening. "Stop it. Watchin' the game here."
"John, this is ridiculous," You hissed. "There will be a million soccer games other than this one."
"Football," He corrected, giving the side of your thigh a smack. "None of that soccer rubbish."
"It's the same thing," You gruffed, whimpering when he shifted his hips underneath you. "Every game is the same."
His tip hit the furthest part inside of you that it could, and your arms and legs were beginning to get fuzzy. Soap's cock had been stuffed inside of you for what felt like hours now - completely hard and prodding at all the right places.
He was perfectly comfortable, sunken into the mattress, propped up just enough so he could properly see the TV that was screaming with bright colors of soccer field turf and fans dressed for their team in the stands. He could see the screen over you, much to your demise.
To be completely honest, this whole ordeal did seem fun at first. It was something different, and something you hadn't tried before. It was arousing to think about Soap being buried inside of you with no promise of friction or relieving stimulation. It was supposed to drive him crazy. It was supposed to make him desperate for you...make him beg for you.
However, it seemed that your devious plan fell apart when he decided to take advantage of it and turn the tables on you.
"I don't know why you're complainin' so much," He chuckled, completely unbothered. "This was your idea, sweet stuff."
So now, you were stuck with him taunting you and torturing you with his cock by doing nothing with it - and he was too invested in his stupid soccer/football game to even think about giving in. His eyes were glued to the TV screen behind you, his gaze barely peeling away for merely a moment.
He was having fun watching you fall apart over his attention being elsewhere in a situation where you were fully naked and at his disposal. The circumstances were great for an even better lovemaking session. But Soap was having too much fun playing the game you originally intended to play.
"I might as well go home at this point," You growled, seriously considering getting up and leaving. "So fucking annoying."
At this point, it was beginning to piss you off more than anything. It was the frustration with his stubbornness and irritation for not getting what you wanted. Frankly, you were beginning to feel bad for previously wishing this upon him.
"Hey...don't be like that," He said in a tone that was demanding, but also sympathetic. "We're havin' fun, princess."
His eyes were set on you now, his irises moving back and forth as he focused on your expression to see if this was beginning to become too much for you. Soap could be a bit intentionally aggressive in the bedroom sometimes, but he never let it get to the point where you weren't enjoying yourself.
He studied carefully, looking for anything that let him know he needed to stop. You were definitely getting antsy, and every minute that passed you were growing more needy.
But you weren't at your breaking point...yet.
"You're having fun," You growled, tears beginning to form in your lower lash line. "I'm not getting-"
To shut you up, Soap gave a quick, firm thrust up into you, making a strained cry leave your throat at the feeling of finally having some kind of movement. Soap let out a low, erotic groan at the sound of your wetness getting pushed around and the sight of it smeared onto his lower stomach made his cock twitch within you. He stayed still for a moment, only moving again when your shoulders relaxed.
He watched your expression as he lifted you off of his cock just enough before sinking you back down, his hips rolling up to thrust into you. You visibly shuddered, a whimpered plea for more sounding from you.
He fucked you slow for a bit, giving you just enough to begin to satisfy you, but not enough to curb your craving for him. He saw your blown pupils and flushed skin, tell-tale signs that you were completely maxed out and ready for more.
Too bad he had a soccer game to watch.
His hip movements stopped, and you were back to square one - completely swallowing his cock between your legs, but no promise or sign of anything more. The look on your face was priceless - an overwhelming expression of disappointment, disbelief, and betrayal. Soap would've felt bad for you...except he didn't.
"You're...you're gonna fuck me, right?" You asked, words breathy and voice barely audible.
He gave a chuckle so mischievous and smug that it almost made you tear up again. He reached for one of your hands, pressing your knuckles to his lips with a smirk.
"Sure, I'll fuck you..." He gave a shit eating grin when he saw your eyes light up. "...if they win."
Against your better judgment, you turned your head to look at the TV, your stomach dropping when you saw that the game was just over halfway through the first half...and the scores were tied. Not only did you have another half to go, but there was a chance that you might make it to the end of the game and receive no end to this torture at all. Maybe if you were lucky, you could convince him during halftime.
Soap laughed again at your agitated look, giving your backside a playful squeeze.
"Cheer up, pretty girl. They've had a good year so far," He said, referring to his preferred team. "Your odds are lookin' good."
Soap wasn't showing any signs of letting up, and you didn't have a choice but to endure the rest of this game and hope for a winning game.
This was going to be the longest game of your life.
Tags: Angst. Momma Peach and Poppa Price fight in front of the “kids.”
Word Count: 4.8k
“I would’ve if you had let me.”
She had been at it for hours.
She had a side stitch from standing for so long and the splitting pain in her head was only getting worse with each passing moment. The stress and tension of the room didn’t help, but there was no way she was giving in.
She could do this all day, but it was beginning to take a toll on her.
Her brain felt like it was swimming in circles. The same movements repeated in her hand gestures and leg motions, and the same threats and words of venom spit from her mouth as she tried to break the man sitting in the middle of the room.
Apparently, he had the same kind of patience that she did. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go anywhere.
He had stopped trying to fight the restraints of his chair long ago. He wasn’t getting up from where he sat without some outside help, which he most surely wouldn’t be getting. Ghost and Soap had been the ones to wrestle and tie him down, so the odds of him getting loose were slim to none.
It was well into the night. Darkness and stars had painted the sky hours ago. Too bad she and the rest of the Force were stuck inside trying to get answers out of this scumbag, who didn’t show any signs of giving up the information she wanted from him.
Notorious criminal was a basic definition of his character. He and his posse of “colleagues” had been tied to four different chemical warfare incidents in the last several months. “Colleagues” was a term that he so leisurely used, but she hardly considered them to be friendly co-workers.
He and his crew had designed and created a chemical weapon that had been used in these chemical attacks over the course of the last several months. They had only just now caught up to him, because he was just as good as staying under the radar as he was making his mark.
Word was that they had sent a “special shipment” of this lab-made weapon to an official location, but the destination was unknown – hence why Peach had been grilling him for half the night at this point. They needed to find the shipment and intercept it before it reached where it was intended to go. A mass exposure to this chemical weapon could mean a lot of damage and fatalities.
Time wasn’t on her side, and he was stalling and wasting as much of it as he could.
She was the best interrogator of the team. Each member had their own strengths when it came to squeezing answers out of a person of interest.
Soap had a certain way with words that could cause the subject to unintentionally give up information. Gaz was cool and convincing, and Price had a temper on him that could shake up pretty much anyone. Ghost was just plain scary – he could merely walk in the room and some people would fold immediately.
But Peach had a little bit of it all. She was convincing and smooth, but could also turn angry and loud. She had it down to a science, but this was her hardest attempt yet.
Usually she slapped them around a little bit. It sped up the process and you wouldn’t believe the people that caved just because they didn’t want to be beat up by such a sweet-looking woman. Other times though, it slowed everything down. It was a risk that usually had to be weighed once she was in the middle of things and had scoped it out.
But Price had given her once simple command before she began her interrogation.
“Whatever you do, don’t lay a finger on him.”
She had whined and protested, begging her Captain to give her the freedom to get her hands bloody if she needed it. It wasn’t like she ever really hurt anybody that bad. She could control herself much more than if Price went in there and put his hands on the guy.
Still, John feared that if she used her knuckles instead of her head, then they’d never get anything out of him.
Right now she was trying the convincing approach, although she wasn’t getting anywhere. In the last several hours, she had probably asked him what felt like about 100 questions, and he hadn’t answered a single one. He dodged every question and demand and brushed off every insult, threat, and comment.
She circled him for what had to have been the millionth time. She was sick of looking at his face, and she could only imagine he was tired of seeing her too.
“That shipment must be goin’ somewhere real important if you’re this tight lipped about it,” She persuaded, her hands shoving into the pockets of her cargo pants. “Must be headed for someone mighty special.”
There had been a few times where she was positive that he was about to give something up, but then he’d catch himself and change the subject completely.
“That accent…” He rumbled, and she didn’t even bother resisting to roll her eyes. “You’re a long way from home, huh?”
She could only describe his voice as snakelike. It had a certain pitch to it, and all of his “S” sounds were drawn out like a hiss.
A few times, she entertained his counter questions. If it brought her closer to getting something out of him, then she didn’t mind giving up some personal information of her own. It was a fair trade off, if you will.
“Haven’t been home in a long time,” She answered. “I can’t seem to ditch the accent.”
“I’d say it suits you.” He shrugged.
This had been the cycle the entire time. She would ask a question and he would change the subject. She was beyond frustrated because nothing was working.
The room that they were in was stuffy. The air was warm, thick, and it felt like she was breathing soup with every inhale she took. Beads of sweat lined her forehead and dripped down the middle of her back, despite the fact that she had stripped down to a tank and her most comfortable set of pants.
The room was straight out of a movie. Concrete floors, cinder block walls, and there was hardly any real light coming from the singular LED overhead. Based on how it flickered and flashed, it was clear that it had been quite some time since the bulb had been changed.
There was a singular window that offered observation inside, and it connected the adjacent room. The glass was tinted from the inside, so the eyes that were inside, couldn’t see outside.
Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap had been watching this whole time from the opposite side, and they were growing more discouraged by the minute.
“She’s not getting anywhere, Captain. He’s barely said anything useful.” Ghost remarked, who was saying what everyone else was thinking.
Price sighed. They could only do this for so long before they would just be wasting precious time on a dead end. Price didn’t want to pull her out because that was giving up in her mind. But he couldn’t stand to watch her keep doing this.
While she was hiding it well, he knew she was as distressed as could be on the inside. He had seen her in her more visible moments of stress and anxiety, and he knew she was close to the beginning of a breakdown.
“Let’s give her another half hour,” Price advised. “Maybe she can turn this around.”
They were all tired. It had been a long day and now they were already well into an even longer night. They needed as much rest as they could possibly get before coming up with a new plan and starting over. They didn’t have enough time to try and do this again.
It turned out that Price’s extra thirty minutes had dwindled down to about two minutes.
“This is gonna go a whole lot easier if you just tell me now,” Her voice lowered, her tone smooth and dark. “Where’s the shipment bein’ sent to?”
Of course, he wasn’t going to answer that. She was mean and she was tough, but he had spent years perfecting keeping his cool under this kind of pressure.
“That Captain of yours has it bad for you, doesn’t he?”
A thunderclap of dread cracked in Price’s chest and vibrated to the rest of his body. If there was one way to set her off, it was to bring him into it. She didn’t totally lose it right away, but he could tell just by looking at her that she was close by that comment alone.
John knew better than to look at Soap, Ghost or Gaz, but he knew they were watching him like a hawk. They were waiting for a reaction, but they surely weren’t going to get one.
“Not a word.” Price instructed, still staring ahead through the dirty glass.
They all jumped, quickly looking in different directions as if they hadn’t been waiting for some kind of tell that this guy was getting under his skin.
It wasn’t necessarily a secret that Peach and Price had been seeing each other. They weren’t really trying to hide it, but they also weren’t going out of their way to share it publicly. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were curious, but too afraid to ask. They were entitled to privacy, but it didn’t stop them from being nosy.
“What makes you say that?” She dared to ask through almost bared teeth.
“It’s in his eyes. He doesn’t look at his men the way he looks at you,” He said. “How long has that been going on?”
“That’s none of your fuckin’ business.” She growled, and her pupils were expanded the way they were every time she was heated.
This wasn’t going anywhere good. The second she laid hands on him, this entire thing was going to be blown.
“She’s gettin’ angry, Captain.” Soap advised, which was more of a warning than anything.
“Not yet.” Price held up a hand, giving her up until the last possible second to get something.
She remembered John’s words. It was imperative to find out where the chemical weapon was going. There was no telling what they were planning to do with it and what kind of mass effect it would have. She couldn’t be the one to jeopardize that. She knew that entertaining his nagging questions would only make things worse.
“Where’s the shipment going?” She asked one final time.
He leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, his words rolling off in his most sinister tone.
“Fuck you.”
Shit.
Price saw the fire explode in her eyes, and he knew to react before she had a chance to.
“Ghost. Get her.” Price ordered immediately.
Ghost was swift on his feet, entering the room and snatching Peach up before she even had a chance to do or say anything else. He hoisted her off the ground, ignoring her wriggling and shrills of protest. A blast of cold air hit her when he carried her back into the next room, which was barely helpful to her boiling blood.
Ghost wrestled to set her back on her feet, but kept a strong arm around her to fight her attempts to get back in the other room. She shrieked and pleaded for Ghost to let her go, and the good Captain only stepped in when Soap and Gaz had to assist Ghost in holding her down.
“That’s enough,” Price barked. “We’re done here.”
She ripped herself from Ghost’s hold at the sound of John’s voice, giving him a look so cold that it sent a shudder down his spine. Her anger was now laser focused on Captain Price, who wasn’t looking forward to the argument that was undoubtedly about to unfold.
“Let me at him, John, he’s gotta give in sometime.” She hissed, strands of her hair sticking to her damp forehead and the back of her neck.
He didn’t want to fight. He hated fighting with her. He especially didn’t want to get into a squabble with her in front of the rest of the team. But right now, he needed to be her captain first. This was her captain speaking, not her lover.
This was one of those moments where it was unexplainably hard to be both.
He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that she was doing everything that she could. He could praise her for her determination and hard work. At the same time, he couldn’t just sit and watch her work herself to death, especially for no reward. There was much more at stake, and her pride getting a little damaged was better than wasting all of her time trying to crack this nut.
He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door in case she tried to force her way back inside.
“You’re done for the night,” John commanded. “You’re not getting anywhere with him.”
Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were standing aside, watching and listening without saying a word. It wasn’t often that Peach and Price got into it like this. But when they did, they knew not to interject or intervene.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She stood in front of him, her eyes squinted and jaw clenched as her accent drew thicker.
Fire was burning in her eyes. The outline of the vein in her forehead was showing under her skin as her cheeks grew hotter with each passing second.
He knew that she would take that the wrong way. He wasn’t insulting her attempt or her work, but she surely took it that way. She was tired from being up so long, irritated by the suspect’s behavior, and disappointed that all of this was for nothing.
But at the moment, that wasn’t Price’s understanding of the situation. All he knew was that she was angry and questioning his judgment in front of his team, and he had to match her tone.
“It means that this is a waste of time,” His voice grew louder, cheeks burning red. “We can’t afford any more dead ends.”
“And what do you suppose that I do in the meantime?” She challenged him, something she rarely ever did.
“You need to take a break. Get some rest. We’ll reconvene in the morning,” John barked. “That’s an order.”
She didn’t like that at all. She was determined to keep at this until she physically couldn’t anymore. This was just too important to give up on now. She shook her head in disbelief, a mixture of fury and disappointment causing her to be so vicious.
She could stand here and argue with him for the rest of the night, but if there was anything that she knew would be a waste of time, it was arguing with John Price.
“Yes, Captain.” She hissed, those two simple words dripping with venom as she pushed past him.
He sighed as she stalked out of the room, no doubt going to find the furthest place to get some sleep. Price knew better than that though. She would be up the rest of the night stewing over this, prematurely blaming herself for something that hadn’t happened yet.
He was already feeling guilty for his reaction. He knew better than to blow up at anyone like that…especially her. He was tired, she was tired, everybody was tired. His emotions in a state of exhaustion and irritability had gotten the best of him.
He knew what he needed to do – cool off and go fix this.
Ghost was the first one to speak up when he realized they really were finished for the night.
“What about him?” Ghost asked, tilting his head to reference the terrorist that was still tied down.
“Leave him. He’s not going anywhere.”
That was Price’s way of telling him that he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a criminal right now. That was also Price’s way of telling the three of them that they could do whatever they pleased with him at this point. Price didn’t ask any questions about what they intended to do with him. He didn’t need to know, and he trusted that they would leave him intact enough so he would see his day in the clink.
Price had other matters to tend to. A clammed up suspect wasn’t worth his time. Everybody needed to regroup and come up with a new strategy when the new day came around.
Rest, reconcile, and regroup. That was his to-do list. He emphasized the second one, but cooling off needed to come first.
He left Ghost, Soap, and Gaz to their own devices, trudging off to find a quiet place to collect himself.
***
If there was one place that Price always knew where to look for her, it was the infirmary.
She was the only one of the team that was trained and qualified enough to effectively utilize the space. Most people avoided it, considering the times that they were there were usually because they were injured or coming down with something. Needless to say that, other than her, it wasn’t likely to catch anybody hanging around there for fun.
She excelled there. It was her main place of work and where her skills were most useful and appreciated. She was talented in many other ways, but her medical knowledge was just so precious and priceless. The force could scrape by without having someone who was perfectly trained in combat or computer hacking. But without a medic? Success was highly unlikely.
The infirmary was where she felt the most useful. She felt almost…safe there.
He knew that’s where she would be. She was probably standing at one of the cabinets, taking all of its contents out and organizing them back inside again.
It was a meaningless task, just something to occupy her hands while her brain circled around itself. She would do this over and over until every corner of every box was flawlessly lined up and every label on every bottle was centered with the front of the cabinet. It was just to distract herself, and an attempt to keep her real feelings at bay.
Not to mention, she was unbelievably angry with her captain.
John knew that she wasn’t going to be thrilled to see him. He prepared himself for another fight as he navigated his way to the infirmary. She would never yell or scream at him, but her voice always turned ice cold and stern when she was upset. He found that to be worse. He’d rather her scream in his face – that way he’d have no question about how she was feeling.
She also wasn’t one to talk about things right away. She liked time to simmer on it and at least cool off a little before talking it out. He had waited around 45 minutes before seeking her out. 45 minutes was all he could stand. The anxiety and anticipation of knowing she was alone and seething to herself was unbearable for him.
While he was desperate to get this resolved, he also had to stand firm in his decision to pull her out of the interrogation. It might’ve upset her as his girlfriend, but it was the right move as her captain. He could acknowledge her disapproval while also defending his decision.
He turned a corner and immediately noticed a glow of light coming from the open doorway of the infirmary. He could feel the energy from here. She certainly wasn’t in the best mood.
Nonetheless, he would rather have a conversation than move on without discussing it.
Sure enough, there she was – facing the cabinet on the back wall, lining up boxes of gauze pads and organizing bottles of disinfectant. He could practically see the steam hissing out of her ears, like her head would blow off of her shoulders at any moment.
He leaned against the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and his feet crossed over one another. She was oblivious to him standing there, another sign that her focus was elsewhere. He took a calming breath to recenter himself before he made himself known.
“Hey, Peach.” He kept a neutral tone.
Her shoulders squared and straightened at the sound of his voice. She wasn’t expecting to see him again tonight, not after that little fallout they just had.
Her hands had paused on the box of gauze in her hands, her eyes trained on the print on the cardboard cover.
“Captain.” She said.
He ignored the sting in his chest and the annoyance that came from her not using his name. This was one of those times where he was here both as a boss and as a boyfriend. Those moments were pretty rare, and he very much preferred being one or the other.
“I thought I told you to take a break.” He said coolly, more as small talk than anything.
“Not tired,” She half-lied. She was tired, but wouldn’t have been able to sleep though. “Where are the boys?”
He couldn’t help but grin to himself. She always referred to Ghost, Soap, and Gaz as “the boys” like they were her kids. It was ironic because she was practically the same age as them, but somehow all of them saw her as motherly at certain times.
“Soap and Gaz hit the sack,” He said. “I think Ghost is dealing with our perpetrator.”
Price reached into the inside of his jacket, locating the pack of cigarettes that he stashed there. After today, he needed something to take the edge off. He slid a cigarette from the pack, settling it between his lips while he fished around in his pants pocket for his lighter.
“Guess he was better for the job then?” She grumbled, her back still towards him. “And don’t you dare light that cigarette.”
Price’s thumb had just set on the spark wheel with not even enough time to push it down to ignite the butane inside. She was always on him about his smoking habit. He knew all the health risks and concerns that came from smoking (she had explained them to him many times), but never were they enough to motivate him to kick his habit completely.
Nonetheless, he placed the cigarette back into the pack and stored them with his lighter for safekeeping.
“It had nothing to do with that. You were just as suited and prepared for it.” He answered.
I guess we’re getting right into it then. He thought to himself.
“Then why’d you pull me out?” She set the box in the cabinet and closed the door.
Her tone wasn’t as firm now, but it still had a certain chill to it.
“It was all part of his plan. He was going to wear you out until we were out of time.” He remarked.
She shook her head, an incredulous smile spreading across her features. She finally turned to him, her eyes meeting his from across the room. He had calmed down much more than she had, but she didn’t look like she was close to combusting anymore.
“You have absolutely zero faith in me.” She said.
His stance changed, his legs straightening out as he fully entered the room.
“Come on, Peaches. You know it isn’t that,” He pleaded. “We’re running out of time. I couldn’t risk using it all on a dead end suspect.”
He was closer to her now. He could read her better if he was close.
“If it had been Soap, you wouldn’t have pulled him out.” She grumbled.
“That’s not true,” He became more determined, but his voice remained normal. “I was looking out for you and for the best interest of this team.”
Her pupils dilated, a quick surge of vexation flashing over her irises.
“I’m not soft, John. I don’t need you takin’ care of me.” She huffed.
At least we’re back to first names.
“I know that. I’ve never thought of you as anything other than independent and perfectly capable. And I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise,” He defended. “But I’m your captain. It’s my job to keep this team safe and in line. That includes you.”
She almost rolled her eyes. How could he act like she didn’t already know that? She had a response ready, but he went on before she could say it.
“I made a judgment call because I was worried about you, and I saw that what he was doing was sabotaging what we’re trying to do,” He proclaimed. “You have the right to be upset over it, but it was the best call. I would’ve made the same choice no matter what. It just so happened that there was a little more emotion involved.”
It wasn’t always easy being both her captain and her lover. As he had said before, it presented some unique challenges that could only be dealt with as they happened. It was only when the two sides blended that things could get tricky.
It wasn’t always easy for her either. Over time, she had learned to know when to treat him as a respected captain and when to love up on him as her romantic partner. She just had to understand that there were going to be times where his care for her was going to overlap with how he treated her professionally.
And in all honesty, she knew deep down that he hadn’t dragged her out because he didn’t think she could do it. If he thought that she wasn’t capable, he never would’ve let her do it in the first place.
“It’s just…” She sighed, a much more serene look glossing over her eyes. “He got the best of me.”
She didn’t lose her temper often. If anything, it was more likely for John to flip his lid. But the stakes were high, the pressure was on, and time was running out…it made sense that an uncooperative criminal pushed her over the edge.
“I know. It’s alright,” He pushed a set of stray hairs from her eyes. “I didn’t want you getting all worked up over it. I need you to have a clear head so we can get this figured out.”
She felt ashamed for lashing out. She was better than losing her composure and confidence over some low life criminal.
She felt remorse for getting in John’s face and nearly cursing him out in front of his team. Her reaction had been uncalled for, and she felt guilty.
“I’m sorry, Captain.” She apologized, the last of the flames in her eyes smothering out completely.
“Oh, come on now, darling,” He took her chin gently between his thumb and index finger, tilting her head forward to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m just glad you didn’t try to kill him.”
“I would’ve if you had let me.” She gave a small smile.
He chuckled at that, wrapping one of his arms around her waist.
“I know,” He pressed another kiss to her head. “I find the thought of you killing an international terrorist rather sexy.”
“Is that so?” Her smile grew wider. “Only problem with that is I’ll lose my job if I get caught killin’ him without probable cause. And I like my job.”
“You would never get caught,” He scoffed. “You’re stealthy.”
His arm unwrapped from her waist, his hands coming to gently grip her biceps. He kissed her properly then, his facial hair tickling her skin as she hummed into the kiss. All was well between them. This was hardly any real bump in the road for them. A minor hiccup, at most.
Price could forgive and forget a little outburst on a terrorist. He would be more concerned if she hadn’t cared so much about this mission.
“How about you get some sleep?” He said when she broke the kiss. “We need to get started as soon as the sun comes up.”
Price’s eyes suddenly started scanning the room, as if he were looking for something.
“Sure. I’ll finish packin’ the cabinet and I’ll hit the hay,” She smirked, following his eyes. “My medic bag is in that closet. Suckers are in the front pocket. I just restocked the cherry ones.”
A grin spread on his face when he dashed towards the closet that she pointed to. He had a theory that she kept lollipops around not only for people after being treated, but also to keep him from smoking so much. It didn’t really work, but he still appreciated the gesture.
He stuck around until she was finished, escorting her out of the infirmary and to a decent place to get some rest. He made sure she was comfortable before he turned in for the night as well, but not before finishing his candy treat.
Although, the lollipop was nothing compared to the relief he felt from making things right.
He felt confident that the answers the team was looking for would be found. And her confidence would return when this was all over and dealt with. She would be successful once more.
And he believed that both as her captain and her lover.
He's glaring at every single person who walks by, turning away every person trying to talk to him about something. Ghost shooed them off, telling them to get lost and that he was busy.
"But LT, I need to-"
"Not now, Johnny. It can wait."
"But-"
"Go, Soap."
Every time you shift or make a noise, he freezes. His eyes go wide as he looks to see if you've been disturbed awake, only relaxing once you were quiet and still again. He presses an occasional kiss to the crown of your head, sometimes lingering there for a second or two just to revel in you.
He's literally perfectly still. Not moving so much as a finger for fear of waking you up and interrupting your rest. He ignores the stiffness in his bones that appears after awhile of sitting like that because he would rather be slightly uncomfortable than deprive you of the sleep.
Honestly, he's just relieved and grateful that you're at least getting sleep at all, even if it's only for a little while.
Soap’s face was so close to the window that the tip of his nose was almost pressed up against the glass.
He could feel the chill of the outside world radiating from the dirty glass, a reminder of the bitter cold outside. He wondered how you had managed to stay out there for so long without freezing to death.
Although, you hardly even noticed the cold. It was nothing compared to what you were feeling on the inside.
The last few days hadn’t been the best. Almost three days ago, you had been faced with a difficult decision…an impossible decision really. The choice between saving one life over another was unimaginable. It was a situation that you always hoped you would never have to be faced with. It was the worst case scenario for anyone.
And that day, your worst nightmare had come true.
A lifetime of guilt had been bestowed upon you. A constant, crushing reminder of the decision you had made in a desperate moment of action. There wouldn’t be a day that went by where you wouldn’t have to take accountability for the fact that you had been forced to choose one life over another.
You would have to face the consequences of your choice for the rest of your life.
You weren’t sure how you were going to do it. It hadn’t even been 72 hours and it was already tearing you apart from the inside out.
Everybody could see what it was doing to you. You hadn’t spoken a word since that day. Every movement of yours was slow and calculated, as if you were scared that one wrong move would mean disaster. You were distracted, your eyes clouded and wandering.
It replayed over and over in your mind. It was stuck in an endless loop, and no matter what you tried, you couldn’t rid your conscience of it.
Captain Price had tried everything. It seemed that his words of reassurance and his gestures of gentle affection weren’t making a dent. He knew what kind of headspace you were in. It was the kind that would suffocate you with thoughts of doubt and “what ifs.” It wasn’t a good place to be, nor an easy one to get out of.
It hurt him to see you like this – both as your professional superior and your lover behind closed doors. It was a challenge that he never wished on anyone in his team. It was a decision he had been forced to make before, and he would never hope the same for someone else.
Yet here you were.
You had closed yourself off. You didn’t want to see or speak to anyone. The team had been trying to get through to you. Each of them had tried to offer their counsel to you, which was something that you needed. But you didn’t feel worthy of their sympathy or comfort. You didn’t even want it. You just wanted to figure out how to live with yourself after all of this.
“She hasn’t moved.” Soap remarked to the rest of the team, who were spread out in the room that they were camping out in for the next few days.
The rest of the team had been cautiously peeking on you every once in a while, but Soap was committed to watching you until you decided to turn in for the night.
“Let her be, Johnny,” Ghost instructed. “She needs to be alone.”
Alone. John shook his head. To hell with that.
No matter how much you thought that it was helping, Price knew better than anybody that sitting and stewing in your own head would only make things worse. They had tried to give you your space, to give you enough time to process it on your own. At this point, though, Price knew you weren’t getting anywhere with being by yourself.
“No,” Price spoke up. “I’ll have a chat with her.”
All three heads turned to look at Price with surprised expressions. It wasn’t unusual for Captain Price to be the one to step up to counsel a worried mind. It was the determination, yet out-of-the-ordinary tenderness in his tone that struck them as abnormal.
None of them said anything. They knew better than to get in the way when Price had his mind set on something. Although, that didn’t stop Gaz and Soap from sharing a quick glance with one another.
Price retrieved his jacket, draping it over his forearm as he made his way to the front door. He was mentally preparing himself both as a mentor and as a boyfriend.
Price walked out the front door of the house, the wretched squeak of the hinges sounding out. He cursed under his breath at the sting of the frozen air that swiped across him. He was just thankful that the air didn’t have any kind of movement to it.
His feet felt heavy as he carried himself over to you. His boots that were usually the norm and conformed to his feet suddenly felt like they were made of steel. Maybe this mission was taking a bigger toll on him than he realized…or his age was finally catching up to him.
His approach was unheard as you continued to stare up into the sky, your body sitting upright against the hard earth beneath you. Your knees ached from your legs being criss crossed for so long, but it was the position where you felt the safest.
The feeling of warm material being wrapped around your shoulders is what brought you out of your daze. He winced at the feeling of how cold you were when his fingers brushed against your skin.
“You’re cold,” He announced. “Why don’t you come inside for the night?”
“I’m okay,” You replied. “I prefer the quiet.”
You pulled his jacket tighter around you, the faint smell of cigar smoke and his cologne bringing a certain rush of warmth through your chilled cored. It held some comfort, but not nearly enough.
When he realized you weren’t going anywhere, he lowered himself to sit next to you. He could bear the bitter cold at your expense. He groaned as he adjusted, his bones much more stiff than yours. He brought his knees to his chest, resting his forearms on top of them as he followed your gaze.
The endless pool of black was speckled with twinkling stars, each and every one was burning bright. It was a beautiful sight to see. Price had always been a sucker for a starry night. It was a calming reminder that there were still wholesome sights to see in this world.
But he couldn’t enjoy it knowing that it wasn’t bringing you the same kind of happiness.
He didn’t say anything else for a little while. There was a mutual understanding that his presence didn’t come with an invitation, and he was waiting for the initial tension to settle before he said anything.
He knew that he needed to approach this gently. You were of fragile mind, and he didn’t want to do or say anything to make it worse. He wanted you to be able to move past this…slowly but surely.
Eventually, he turned his gaze to you – watching you stare up into that abyss as if it were the only thing keeping you from disintegrating into the universe. He shifted a bit closer to you, one of his hands coming to rest on your thigh as a show of affection.
“I know that you already know this,” He began, his voice low and smooth. “But wishing on stars won’t change what happened, darling.”
The sound of your captain speaking to you distracted you for a moment. His heart skipped a beat when you turned your head to look at him, your eyes glazed with exhaustion and guilt.
Oh…my poor darling.
Guilt was something he knew all too well. The situations where he was forced to make the same kind of choice were the critical moments in his life that were burned into his soul. He knew that deep down there wasn’t really a way to repair that kind of damage.
There wasn’t a solution. Only a path that you could take that would teach you to live with it. It was a journey that could allow you to be better in the end.
“I know. I just…wish that things could’ve been different,” You sighed. “I can’t help but wonder why it happened the way it did.”
“I’m afraid that you won’t find the answers you’re looking for up there either,” He couldn’t help but chuckle, only because he had done the same thing when he was in your shoes. “I know that all too well.”
There was a brief silence. A hot rise began to expand in your throat, the first real show of emotion in the last three days. It was bellowing up, and there wasn’t a thing you could do to stop it.
“No one should ever have to make that choice,” You stated, your voice cracking under the pressure from the hot tears brimming your eyes. “I never should’ve had to make that choice, John.”
The tears were spilling down your face now, and Price’s heart was stinging with every beat. He couldn’t stand it that there wasn’t much he could say to make this better for you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a sympathetic hum.
“You’re right,” He nodded. “But you did.”
It wasn’t so black and white. You knew that. Things were much more complex than you were trying to make them out to be. The truth was that this job caused you to be put into all kinds of situations that ordinary people would never have to experience. It was all part of (as Price would say) getting dirty to keep the world clean.
“It doesn’t feel right at all,” You sniffed. “What’s the point of doing any of this when there will always be more bad than good?”
“Doing good, no matter how small, is always worth the effort,” Price said, running his thumb back and forth across the material of your jeans. “You can’t go hating the world over the things that you can’t change.”
“Even when we see the absolute worst that it has to offer?”
Quite frankly, Price didn’t have an answer for that. It wasn’t often that he didn’t know what to say. He always could scrounge up some kind of advice, but it seemed that your question didn’t elicit an immediate response from him.
He couldn’t blame you for feeling like this. It was hard to see the positive when there were so many negatives right in front of your face. In all honesty, if you weren’t feeling at least somewhat hostile, he’d be worried.
For now, all he could do was be there for you. He could only support you and guide you through this as much as you would let him. He knew that with time and lots of reinforcement from the rest of the team, you would bounce back from this…but there would be some emotional scars with it, and ones that you would have to learn from.
“We’re protecting others from the worst,” Price reminded you. “That’s what it’s all about.”
“It seems so simple.” You sucked in a shaky breath.
“Nothing about this job is simple, I’m afraid.” He moved to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side.
He exhaled a silent sigh when your head fell on his shoulder, your sobs fading into soft cries and occasional hiccups. His eyes returned to the sky, and to no surprise, those same stars were still up there. He wondered how many pleas and wishes had been spent on those burning celestial bodies. On that same note, he wondered how many of them had actually come true.
He couldn’t grant all of your wants. If he could take this pressure and this pain off of you, he would do it in a heartbeat. It was one thing for him to experience that sort of thing, it was different when it was you.
This had helped you slightly. It was good for you to get some of your most pressing thoughts off of your chest. It offered some relief, but the real reprieve would come with time and patience. You were thankful for John and his commitment to being a resource for you. Maybe you didn’t utilize his advice as often as you should’ve, but you were grateful for it.
“Thanks for this, John. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You swallowed down the last of the tears.
“As your captain or as your bedmate?” He snickered, a genuine grin appearing on his face.
“Oh, John. Don’t say it like that,” You scoffed, but you couldn’t even hide the amusement. “And I like you as both.”
“Well, in that case,” He gently guided your head to face him. “I’ll be sure to stick around then.”
He kissed you then, tenderly and carefully – the way that he knew you needed it to be. His facial hair tickled against your skin, but it was a feeling that you had grown familiar with. His kisses were well received, and you were kissing him with the same passion and adoration. His hand came to your face, cradling your cheek as you maneuvered closer to him.
You could’ve stayed out here all night like this, but when you got the sudden sense of being watched, you came to a pause.
“I, uh…think we have an audience.” You whispered against his lips.
A chuckle rumbled out of Price because he already knew exactly what you meant. Sure enough, there were three sets of wide, peering eyes glued to the window of the living room, watching this entire exchange between you and John.
As soon as they noticed they had been spotted, all three heads ducked from sight and there was the faint, distant sound of three figures scrambling over one another.
You supposed that you couldn’t blame them. This was the most interesting thing that had happened all day.
“Raincheck?” John asked, pressing a final kiss to the tip of your nose.
“Yeah,” You returned a small smile. “Ready to go inside?”
“Thought you’d never ask. I’m freezing.”
He helped guide you to your feet, allowing you a moment to stretch your muscles before escorting you inside. He hoped for a peaceful night for you, or at least, a night of a little rest. You needed the recharge, and he hoped it would find you.
He felt a little better knowing that you were on the way to being in higher spirits. He’d be sure to check on you in the morning and throughout the day.
He was confident that you would do the same for him and just merely being there for you was the least he could do. He would stop at nothing for you to find acceptance and healing.
He was devoted to being there for you through this process, no matter how long it took.
A/N: I decided to write this series of fics in third person. I was afraid that this reader is too specific to be in second person...although this still is *technically* an insert reader fic. Feedback is always greatly appreciated. I would love to know your thoughts on this new “series.” I’ll be writing a whole separate fic for their first time meeting so keep an eye out! This is a tester fic. Just to introduce our reader and test the waters. Also, I have no idea if it’s canon to whether or not Ghost smokes. I have a headcanon that he smokes when he’s stressed.
Word Count: 2.7k
“Know why? ‘Cause I have this little thing called patience.”
She wasn’t like anyone else that he had ever known.
She was the toughest, yet sweetest woman he had ever met. One minute she could be cursing out and beating the shit out of a blood thirsty, heartless terrorist…and the next she could be babying and gushing over Sergeant MacTavish because he got a papercut on his finger.
She had a way with words, but also a way with her fists. She could talk or fight her way out of anything, and Price had witnessed it himself on numerous occasions. She was fierce. She was a blaze of fire everywhere she went, tough as nails and overly aware of the darkness of the world around her.
And yet after all the evil that she had seen, she had a heart that was still as pure and bright as ever.
And he never expected to fall in love with her.
He was skeptical of her at first. Kate Laswell’s description of her didn’t make the most impressive image.
Laswell’s descriptions painted a certain picture in Captain Price’s mind. A sweet, innocent female who didn’t know the reality of this job and this world. A soldier that had too much hope for humanity and too much zest for life that blinded her to what was true.
And when he learned what her call sign was, he nearly laughed in Laswell’s face.
“Peach?” Price scoffed, a little off put by such a girlish call sign. “Why do they call her that?”
Kate only smiled knowing that Price was already underestimating her without ever seeing her face or seeing her in action.
“She has thick skin and is sweet as can be…” Kate grinned. “Not to mention, she’s a true southern lady.”
Price fought the urge to roll his eyes, but he didn’t try to swallow down the dread that was bellowing up in his throat.
Great. An American.
It took Price some time to change his mind. Even after meeting her for the first time, he wasn’t so sure that she was the right kind of person for his team. If he was going to work with her, he needed her to be disciplined. He couldn’t afford another soldier that was unpredictable in nature. He needed someone he could trust, someone who he could depend on no matter what.
And much to Price’s surprise, he wasn’t totally discouraged when he first met her.
She didn’t look intimidating for the most part. She didn’t have the tall, broad stature like Simon Riley or the hard, cold stare like John MacTavish. She had a gentle look, a face that was lit up with a smile when the two of them locked eyes. On the surface, she didn’t look like the strict type…but there was something about her that Price could tell had a rough side to it.
She was easy on the eyes…very easy on the eyes. Price noticed that he had a hard time looking away from her.
“Captain Price,” She greeted, and her southern drawl made his chest feel fuzzy. “I’m Sergeant [L/N]. But everybody calls me Peach.”
So I’ve heard.
“Sergeant,” Price extended his hand, the warmth of her grip tingling up his arm. “Pleasure to meet you.”
And from there, the rest was history.
Each and every day he saw more and more of her personality, and every day he found himself realizing how quick he had been to judge. He saw her sweet side and sour side. He saw how she adapted to every situation appropriately. She was intelligent, skilled, and always looking out for the people around her.
If anything, that was the thing that surprised him the most. She was selfless and would do anything for the people that she worked and spent the majority of her time with. She was everything he could’ve asked for when it came to working with someone.
Suddenly he was thinking about her when she wasn’t around. He wanted to talk to her about things that were more personal. His admiration turned into a romantic one, and he found himself wishing for a relationship that extended past professional.
The small talk turned into meaningful conversations. The passing glances turned into longing stares. The “accidental” touches turned into intentional ones. Before he knew it, he had grown to care for her. And before she knew it, she had grown to care for him.
That loud-mouthed, southern charm woman that had been thrown into his life was suddenly part of it so much more than he originally bargained for…but not that he was complaining.
His team loved her, and she worked with them well. They were protective over her the same way she was protective over them. She took care of them when they needed it, but sometimes her bedside manner came off a little aggressive.
“Quit movin’ so much,” She growled, tightening her grip on the man’s leg. “I’m gonna beat your ass if you do that again.”
“Wasn’t on purpose,” Ghost grumbled. “All of this because I was just trying to have a cigarette.”
“And that’s another thing!” She howled. “You’ve gotta chill with the cigarettes. Since when do you smoke this much?”
She was the best medic of the team. She had been trained by the best, and she was a natural caretaker. She was always quick to jump in when someone was hurt or sick. She never hesitated to fix someone up who (in her words) “needed fixin’”.
When it was something unavoidable or something that was a purely freak accident, she was like an angel nurse. A sweet, comforting tone and gentle mannerisms that could soothe even the most panicked patient. But when it was something more…stupid, she tended to be a little more irritable.
Simon Riley wasn’t usually the one to end up on the wrong side of her temper. It was almost always Soap or Gaz who came waddling in with some sort of self-inflicted injury that was from horsing around or “just to see what would happen.”
Ghost was much more careful. The only times he ever needed her help was when it was something really serious.
So when he came in hobbling on one foot and with a look of embarrassment in his eyes, she knew his streak had been broken. Now she was in a makeshift infirmary in a base in the middle of nowhere, trying to keep him still long enough just to get a good look at his giant’s foot.
“I only do it when I’m uptight,” Ghost muttered, feeling like he was being scolded as if he were a child. “I went outside for a smoke and my fucking ankle just gave out on me.”
Suddenly, her expression changed. A rush of empathy flooded her heart and her eyes morphed into a sensitive look. Ghost knew that she was only being so hard on him because she cared. She worried about his respiratory health due to the cigarettes. She worried about his mental state because he was feeling overwhelmed. Ghost appreciated her concern, but it just seemed like she worried more about others than herself.
“Awh, Simon…” She sighed. “It has been a hard past few weeks.”
“You can say that again,” He adjusted his skull mask on his face, to avoid yelping in pain at how she was touching the hurt part of his foot. “Although, I can’t blame that on me busting up my ankle for no reason.”
“Well, the terrain’s not so level here,” She returned, holding his foot steady in her hands. “Somethin’ probably just snagged your foot when you were walkin’ by.”
A few minutes of silence passed as she finished looking him over. Ghost strained and fought to keep himself from making any noises of discomfort. He hated being held back like this, and it didn’t help when Captain Price decided to stop by.
“What’s he in for?” Price leaned against the doorway, a grin of amusement on his face.
She didn’t even have to look at him to know that he had a smirk on his face. She could feel his demeanor from where she sat with her back towards him. She was always happy to see him, but right now she had Ghost to finish tending to.
“Ankle,” She replied, releasing his foot from her hands. “Just twisted it.”
“Do you think he’ll make it?” Price snickered.
She couldn’t help but laugh, but she knew Ghost was feeling lousy, so she didn’t entertain any of Price’s jokes.
“Well, I don’t think it’s broken. I’ll stabilize it and I want you to try to keep weight off of it. Ibuprofen should help with the pain, and I think I’ve got some packs for the swelling.” She said to Ghost, who was just ready to go.
She was true to her word, working carefully and gently to make a splint for his foot, something to keep him from hurting it more. Price enjoyed watching her work. She was so focused and so serious about making sure he was getting the best care possible.
“I appreciate it, Peach. I guess this is my sign to stop smoking, huh?’ Ghost chuckled, his smooth voice sounding a little bit more lively than usual.
“Damn right it is,” She replied. “But for now, just worry about this foot healin’ up.”
She helped the monstrously tall man to his feet…or foot, rather – and made sure that he could manage to shift his weight to the other foot. He towered over her, as he did most people, but he was leaning on her like she was her lifeline. Once he was balanced, he was good to go.
“If you need anything, you let me know, okay?” She smiled, that sweet voice sounding out. She reached into her medic bag and retrieved a comfort charm of sorts. “Here’s a little treat for your troubles.”
Ghost’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the small, light pink lollipop, his fingers greedily peeling off the wrapper.
“Oh, now I know why Johnny’s getting himself banged up all the time,” Ghost raised the lower part of his mask to put the candy in his mouth. “Thanks again, Doc.” He muffled through sucking on the lollipop.
Ghost limped out of the room, but he was moving better than he was when he walked in. Price watched as Ghost made it out of his sight before he turned back to her. Knowing that her attention was free, he spoke again.
“He’s a grown man, Peaches.” He chuckled. “You’re softening up my men.”
She spun around in her chair, that radiant smile taking his breath away as it always did.
“I’m surely not!” She squeaked. “I’m always takin’ care of you, aren’t I?”
“Of course. But I don’t ever get sweets.” He claimed, and her brows furrowed.
“You mean suckers?” She corrected.
“Sweets.” He argued, but in the most playful way.
“Suckers.” She bantered.
This happened all the time. They had very different dialects and very different ways of saying things. She even argued with other Americans about certain words and phrases she used. A southern U.S. accent really is one of a kind, and Price never let her get away with it.
“Alright, well, I never get suckers.” He mocked her accent on the word in question, and she gasped.
“John!” She hissed, but couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face to save her life. “And the reason I don’t give you sweets is because you steal them out of my bag when I’m not looking.”
Now it was his turn to be offended, but only because he had no idea that she had caught on.
“I am appalled at such an accusation,” He clutched his hand to his chest. “How dare you accuse me of being a thief.”
She stood from her seat, reaching for his hand to pull him into the room. His cheeks flushed pink at her gesture, because he knew that it had been a little while since they had a moment alone together. It was hard to get even a few minutes alone when there was so much to be done and so many people around.
“Mm. ‘Cause you only take certain ones, and I know when they go missing.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, which caused the heat in his cheeks to spread to his ears.
“And which ones are those?” He grinned again, knowing exactly what she was talking about.
She rolled her eyes at him, because she had walked right into this one.
“The cherry and peach ones.” She sighed, shaking her head at his antics.
He was entertained. She knew him like the back of her hand at this point, the same way that he knew her. He loved nothing more than seeing her figure out something about him without him even telling her.
Honestly, he wasn’t shocked that she had figured out that he was the one stealing her “suckers.” Although, it would’ve been really easy to frame Soap for their disappearance.
“Oh? And I wonder why that is…” He continued.
“Cherry is your favorite, and peach reminds you of me.” She laughed under her breath, and hearing her say it brought so much pride to his soul.
“Ah, of course,” He ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Such a smart girl…”
She couldn’t help but look away. If there was anyone who could make her shy, it was John Price. He kissed her then, her grin and giggle vibrating on his lips. They had missed one another, even though they hadn’t gone a day without seeing one another.
“How are things today?” She asked, changing the subject.
“The same as yesterday. And the day before…and the day before,” He answered. “I’m tired of sitting around.”
“I know. Me too,” She kissed him again, and his hands squeezed her hips. “Just a couple more days. Then we’ll be up and movin’ along.”
He grumbled. Price was never one to enjoy the waiting game. He could only play so many rounds of poker with Gaz or tell so many stories with Soap before the boredom started chewing away at him. But that was the reality of some missions: just waiting until the right time to put the plan into action.
“You make it sound so easy.” He chuckled.
“Know why? ‘Cause I have this little thing called patience.” She grinned.
“You also treat my men like princesses,” He countered. “Next thing you know, you’ll be painting their nails and Soap’s going to walk out in a dress.”
“Please. Soap would do that for five dollars,” She scoffed. “This is why I don’t give you any of my suckers.”
“Oh, that’s cruel, Peachy.” He groaned. “If you give me one, I promise not to make fun of the word ‘sucker’ and I won’t say anything about you turning my team into your squad of girlfriends.”
“Fine. Deal,” She stepped out of his hold to reach for her bag. “Cherry?”
“Duh.” He sassed, and she rolled her eyes.
She rummaged through her bag to find a cherry lollipop, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with him.
“I think I’m out of cherry ones, honey bun.” She told him, and his jaw dropped open.
“That’s impossible. There were three in there this morning.” He gawked.
“How do you know how many there were if you haven’t been takin’ them out of my bag?” She questioned, not even hiding the victorious expression on her features.
“Uhm…” He paused. “I guessed?”
“Bullshit!” She snatched a cherry pop out of her bag as if it were damning evidence. “You have been stealing ‘em!”
“I think that stealing is a mighty strong word,” He said. “Think of it more as…helping myself. Besides, I always make it up to you, don’t I?”
She held the stick towards him, and he didn’t hesitate to take it.
“I suppose so,” She watched as he removed the wrapper and popped it into his mouth. “What’s gonna happen if Soap comes in here and I’m out of suckers?”
Price chuckled as he swirled the candy in his mouth.
“He’ll live. It might do him some good.” Price reached for her waist again, pulling her back into his chest.
“You know, I can just keep a stash just for you. All the cherry ones.” She suggested.
“You’d do that for me?” His eyes lit up, removing the sucker from his mouth. “Cherry and peach ones?”
She snuck a kiss then, a very cherry tasting one that danced over her lips.
