Call of Duty Oneshots

What could have been. (Price x Reader)

TW: Violence.

The room was bathed in gentle morning light as the sun peeked through the blinds of the window. You lay nestled next to Price, wrapped in his warm embrace, a content smile gracing your lips as you gazed up at him. He returned your loving look with an affectionate one of his own, his eyes filled with adoration.

With a gentle touch, Price brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you couldn't help but smile, snuggling closer against his bare chest. In this intimate moment, your thoughts turned to the future you longed for.

"I can't wait until we have our own little house together," you murmured, a dreamy smile dancing on your lips as you met his gaze. His smile deepened at your words.

"A small house, huh?" he replied, his voice warm and inviting. You pondered for a moment, your brows furrowing in thought.

You considered his question for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, a cute little house surrounded by lots of trees and flowers. Somewhere cold and cloudy." His fingers were tracing small, comforting circles on your back.

Price's heart swelled with love for you, and he couldn't help but admire your vision. "Somewhere cold, like Alaska? Or Greenland?" You furrowed your brows, contemplating the options, and Price couldn't resist a chuckle.

"Greenland would be nice, but we would have to learn the language," you noted.

"We could learn the language, sweetheart," he assured, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I suppose that means we'll have a winter wedding."

Your smile lit up the room, and you nodded in agreement. "I think our kids will like the snow," you pondered with a laugh, envisioning what it would be like to have a childhood in a wintery wonderland. "I'm sure they will love it. Building snowmen, making snow angels, and coming inside to drink tea." he mused, his heart swelling at the prospect of starting a family with you.

"Tea sounds bloody nice right now." Your laughter filled the room, and you ran your hand through his hair, an affectionate gesture that tugged at Price's heartstrings. Your thoughts turned to the inevitable question, the dream you held onto dearly.

"When do you think we can retire?" you were searching for answers in Price's eyes. He contemplated it for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours.

"Soon, sweetheart," he replied, his eyes soft with the promise of a shared future. You smiled against his lips before drawing him into a tender kiss. His hand gently found its way into your hair, fingers entwining in your locks as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in the sweet reverie of your dreams, your love, and the life you hoped to share together.

He sighed as his lips pressed against yours. Your presence was comforting and soothing, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. But just as suddenly, he jolted awake, his eyes flew open, and he found himself covered in sweat, the room shrouded in darkness. Panic gripped him as he sat up, searching frantically for you, his heart pounding in his chest.

His eyes darted around the room, but you were nowhere to be found. His trembling hand found the nightstand light switch, and with the soft glow illuminating the room, he realized that he was alone. And then, it hit him. It was another dream, a painful reminder of what could have been if he had been more vigilant, if he had been better to you.

His mind wandered back to the recurring dream, a time when you were still alive, the memory of when you first asked him about retiring. He remembered the words he had spoken to you, a promise that had never come true – "soon." The weight of his lie hung heavy in the air as he recalled that moment. If only he had meant it, if only he had retired as you wished.

His mind flashed back to that fateful day, a year ago when he had finally agreed to retire, after years of you pleading with him. He had told you that it would be the last mission, but he hadn't noticed the sniper in the distance, and you had pushed him out of the way, taking the fatal bullet through the neck. He could only blame himself for not listening to you, for not retiring sooner. If he had only agreed earlier, you would still be here. A year had passed since your death, but Price's grief and regret hadn't lessened. He would forever be plagued by dreams of what could have been, the haunting reminders of his failure to cherish you.

A/N: This is a sequel to "He realizes too late" MORE ANGST FOR EVERYONE HEHEHA