Call of Duty Oneshots

Indifference (John Price x Reader)

As you stand in the firing range, focusing intently on your aim, the sound of gunfire echoing around you, you sense Captain Price's presence before you see him. His footsteps are familiar, the cadence of his stride unmistakable.

When he approaches from behind, you feel a rush of anticipation mixed with nervousness. His hand gently taps your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. The touch of his warm, calloused fingers against your skin sends a cascade of goosebumps rippling across your arm.

You lower your weapon, turning slightly to acknowledge him.

"It might help your wrist if you rest your thumb here," he says, his voice low and reassuring. His hands, rough yet strangely comforting, guide your fingers into a better position on the gun.

As he adjusts your grip, you feel the heat emanating from his body, his chest brushing against your back for a fleeting moment. Every nerve in your body screams for you to lean back, to bask in his warmth just a little longer, but you resist the urge, afraid to betray the professional boundaries between you.

"Thanks, Captain," you manage to say, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging inside you. With a nod of acknowledgment, Price steps back, leaving you to continue your practice, but his touch lingers, etched into your memory long after he's gone.

Your life had been devoid of romantic attention, boys never casting a second glance your way. But when you joined the task force and experienced Price's gentle treatment, your heart couldn't help but be drawn to him. His kindness and care stood out amidst the roughness of the team, and with each interaction, you found yourself falling deeper for him.

You find your gaze lingering on his form whenever he's near, drinking in every detail as if committing them to memory. When he's not looking, you steal glances, admiring the way the sunlight catches in his hair or the determined set of his jaw as he leads the team into action.

The slightest touch from him sends goosebumps across your skin, your heart racing at the mere brush of his fingers against your shoulder or the warmth of his hand as he offers guidance. But you dare not show any sign of your true feelings, burying them deep within your heart to protect both your professional integrity and your heart from potential pain.

But despite your efforts to keep your emotions in check, Price has a way of making you feel special. His encouraging words and reassuring demeanor never fail to lift your spirits, and his genuine kindness makes you feel loved and cared for in a way that no one else can. In those moments, you feel special, as if you're the only one who matters to him.

But you know better than to entertain such thoughts. You remind yourself of the boundaries that separate you, the rules of conduct that must be upheld. Yet, as the night wears on and the drinks flow freely at the pub, celebrating Johnny's birthday, you find yourself caught in a moment of weakness.

Price, slightly drunk, drapes his arm around your shoulder at the crowded pub, pulling you close with a familiarity that sends a jolt of electricity through your body. Despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself sinking into him, the warmth of his touch igniting a desire within you.

Is this his way of telling you that he feels the same?

Price has had too much to drink, his usual demeanor softened by the alcohol coursing through his veins. As his eyes roam over your figure, fueled by a mixture of alcohol-induced desire, he can't help but notice the subtle reactions you display to his touch.

A lustful smile tugs at his lips as he observes the way your body responds to him, the way your skin flushes under his gaze, and the way your breath quickens in response to his presence. In this intoxicated state he finds himself drawn to you with a newfound intensity, his desire for you burning bright in his eyes as the tent in his pants throb.

"You look good in that little dress sweetheart." As Price's fingers trail up your exposed thigh, a rush of heat floods your body, igniting a fire deep within you. His words send shivers down your spine, his touch electrifying as it skims over your skin. With each tantalizing caress, your heart races faster, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

The booth provides a shield from prying eyes, allowing Price's bold advances to remain concealed from the rest of the pub. His touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, making it hard to focus on anything else but the sensation of his fingers against your skin.

Your body reacts instinctively, your legs involuntarily rubbing together in anticipation. "Rubbing your legs together while you're thinking about me?" his fingers brush against the fabric of your soaked panties and a moan escapes your lips.

"My place is around the corner." you whisper into his ear, your breath hot against his skin, causing him to tense with anticipation. With every word, you stoke the flames of desire between you, heightening the tension until it's nearly unbearable.

Price hadn't had sex for what felt like an eternity, his desires simmering beneath the surface as he navigated the military life. The weight of his responsibilities and the burdens of command had left him craving a release, his body aching with pent-up frustration.

As the alcohol coursed through his veins, clouding his judgment, the idea of a one-night stand with his sergeant seemed increasingly appealing. You were undeniably attractive, your body igniting a primal desire within him that he could no longer ignore.

In his intoxicated state, he convinced himself that giving in to his desires just this once wouldn't hurt, that a quick one night stand with you would be enough to satisfy his needs.

As you wake up the next morning to the emptiness of the cold bed, a pang of disappointment fills your heart. Your mind tries to rationalize Price's absence, attributing it to the demands of work even though today is the base's day off. You tell yourself he must have been swamped with paperwork or called in for an urgent mission, anything to ease the ache of his absence.

The next day, you smile when you see Price, hoping to catch his eye and bask in the warmth of his affection. He returns your smile, his gaze meeting yours briefly before he continues on his way. In that fleeting moment, you convince yourself that he loves you just as much as you love him, that his smile holds all the hidden depths of his affection.

That the two of you made love the night of Johnny's birthday.

That he fucked you will all the love in his heart as he pushed your head lower on his cock making you gag repeatedly.

You tell yourself he only did that because you made him feel so good.

That he has harbored feelings for you just as long as you have for him as he pushed your face into the pillow, his cock fucking you mercillicly from behind, over and over again until he came in your pretty cunt.

That the only reason he didn't cuddle you afterwards and immediately went to sleep was because he was so tired from work.

Poor you, lost in a world of illusions.

You fail to see that Price doesn't feel for you as deeply as you do for him. To him, you're just a one-night escape, a fleeting desire to quench his thirst. Yet, you convince yourself otherwise, believing in a love that exists only in your mind.

You cling to the notion that Price is hiding his true feelings for you, masking them behind a facade of professionalism. But the truth is stark and unforgiving—he sees you as nothing more than a colleague, treating you with kindness out of duty, not love. Yet, you continue to deceive yourself, trapped in a web of your own delusions.