Call of Duty Oneshots

The other woman. (Price x Reader)

As you and Price packed up your room on the base, your deployment was coming to an end, and you were finally going home to England for a well-deserved break. In the midst of packing, you discovered one of Price's shirts in your pile.

You reached over and tapped his shoulder, attempting to hand it back to him. However, Price moved away from your touch quickly, a stark contrast to his usual affectionate demeanor. Confusion furrowed your brow, but you chose not to say anything, just handing him his shirt.

Throughout the day, Price's attitude toward you remained distant. He was short in his responses, evaded your touch, and seemed entirely different from his typically loving, talkative, and affectionate self. Had you done something to upset him?

Later, as Price sat in his office wrapping up some last-minute paperwork, you hesitantly entered, your voice barely above a whisper as you asked, "Do you think we can talk for a second?" Price glanced up, sighing as he set down his papers.

"I've actually been meaning to talk to you, y/n," he began, and your heart sank, filled with worry and a sense of foreboding.

"I don't know-" he began but your conversation was interrupted when Ghost walked into the office, requesting some files that Laswell wanted. Price's gaze shifted between you and Ghost, and he eventually decided, "We can talk about this later, y/n."

The disappointment in your eyes was evident, but you didn't utter a word. You rose from your seat and left the office.

Hours passed, and you had been expecting Price to finally talk to you about whatever was bothering him. However, every time you thought it was about to happen, he would receive an important phone call or some urgent matter that required his attention.

Your feelings of neglect and being pushed aside were growing stronger, and you felt your anger building by the minute. The time had come for you to board the helo that would take you back to England. You said your goodbyes to Soap and Ghost, knowing they planned to stay on the base, having no reason to leave. As you were about to take your seat on the helo, Price called out to you.

You turned around, your anger palpable. Price was about to open his mouth to speak when you cut him off sharply, "I don't want to hear whatever you've been needing to tell me. I don't care. If it was that important, you would have made time and actually put in some effort to talk to me."

His brows furrowed, and he took a step towards you, determination in his eyes, "I don't care what you want, we need to talk."

Price reached for your wrist, but you flinched, his grip a little too tight. His eyes widened, and he quickly let go, muttering an apology.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just really need to talk to you," he tried to reach out to you again, but you took a step back.

"Y/n, I'm--"

"Stop." you interrupted him, your tone firm. He sighed, then took another step toward you, forcefully grabbing you by the jaw. Your eyes grew wide as his fingers tightened their grip.

"Don't say I didn't try to warn you," Price said, releasing your jaw abruptly. He took a seat at a distance from you, and you followed suit, massaging your jaw and buckling yourself in, your frustration and confusion lingering in the air between you.

During the flight back to England, you had plenty of time to reflect on your earlier encounter with Price and the way you'd acted. Were you in the wrong for getting upset?

You'd only wanted to talk to him about why he'd been distant with you all morning. You couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion and self-doubt. How had things come to this point?

You questioned whether you'd been too harsh on him. Perhaps you were being over-dramatic. After all, he was the captain, and it was reasonable for him to be busy. Maybe you should have been more understanding and patient.

As the helo touched down on the runway, you began gathering your bags, determined to talk to Price about the situation. As the ramp opened, you noticed Price leaving without you. Frustration welled up as you hurriedly chased after him, losing sight of him in the crowd of soldiers reuniting with their families.

Pushing through the crowd in the direction you last saw Price, you finally spotted him. Your voice caught in your throat, and your eyes widened as your stomach sank.

He was holding a small boy, no more than four years old, in his arms. A woman was smiling at him, leaning in to kiss him. Time seemed to stand still as you watched the scene unfold before you.

You watched the scene in disbelief, your heart pounding and tears welling up in your eyes. Who was this other woman?

As you glanced at her hand, your heart dropped even further. A diamond ring adorned her finger. The small boy called Price "dad."

The painful realization hit you. Price was married, and you had been the other woman in his life. Your heart shattered as you watched the scene unfold, and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

That's why Price had been acting cold towards you all day. He knew this moment was coming, and he had waited until the day you were flying back home to reveal it. Price turned, his laughter quickly fading as he locked eyes with you. His expression turned cold, and he continued walking, his hand resting on his wife's back as he guided her through the crowd.

The laughter and joy of the people around you seemed like a cruel joke, their world kept moving while yours had come to a halt. You felt like the one being laughed at, as you realized that your world had crumbled.