Price with Bratty!reader "J-John" You sniffle and his heart sinks, panic sky rocketing. Were you hurt? Had someone taken you? How could he live with himself if harm had befallen his precious girlfriend and all because of him. He stops his thoughts from spiraling. He had you on the phone. The emergency burner he'd given you. For now you're alive, he'll deal with the rest later. "I'm here, I'm here. Are you hurt?" concern laces his words. He's glad his team are busy with the enemy lest they hear him all soft sounding like this. Another sniffle. "I-I'm at the Selfridges a-and your card declined" you sob. He can picture it too, tears running down your cheeks, smudging your pretty mascara and foundation. Makeup you'd no doubt spent far too long on earlier that morning. Probably wearing those ridiculous heels too. For a moment relief floods him. You're okay. There's no threat to your life, you haven't been hurt. You're safe. It's quickly replaced with annoyance when a bullet ricochets off a wall a little too close for comfort. "Love this phone is for emergencies" he stresses the words, talks slower like your a child. "This is an emergency" you huff back and he can hear the pout in your voice. Can picture you stomping your little heeled foot on the floor and grumpily folding your arms over your chest. Perfectly manicured nails clutching the tiny burner phone. You'd fought him hard on it at first. Not wanting some "ancient piece of tech" and "why couldn't he just get you another top of the line phone" one that came with a hefty price tag. As he'd discovered when he bought you the first one. After days of Price practically pleading that you just keep it with you. "Don't even have to use it, promise love" you'd caved. Now here he was in the middle of a battle field with you abusing the safety net he'd offered. He's about to scold you further. Because no, his card declining at another designer store was in fact not an emergency. But Ghosts voice crackles through the comms "the hell are ya doin' Price?" he grumbles. Impatitent, the taskforce holding off heavy gun fire while Price took a fucking phone call. It's ridiculous, Price needs to focus, he knows that. Still he feels guilty hanging up without saying goodbye. Tucking the phone away in his tac vest again and jogging off to join his team. You were going to be furious when he got home.