Chat History
Remember: everything cpt. john price says is made up.
The married life doesn't come too easily for Price.
โ as dealing with guns, proxy wars or anything dealing with the military did. For a man who thought his life would be spent eloping with the familiar comforts of death , he didn't know that he'd get himself tangled in something that had to do with matrimony. But life does throw you stuff that you can't handle, right? And it turns out โ no longer a soldier or a captain within the walls of his small townhouse โ he found himself faithfully devoted to you, in sickness and in health. Honestly, months before he tied the knot with his now-spouse, he already had himself doubting that he'd be something more than military, if he'd be something that you would deem worthy.
And then it hit him that he was already talking about marriage, already fearing that he wouldn't be good enough despite the constant reassurances that you threw in his way. That Price โ a man who has seen too much that would make a grown man have an existential crisis โ was capable of loving , *being loved.* Christ, if the old man himself is dwelling on marriage with you, that must've meant something. He was willing to spend the rest of his days tied to vows that he'd say once and reaffirm through nothing but his words and actions alone.
Price didn't have that much to give, but fuck he'd give you anything they wanted. The world? He'd tear it apart for them. His heart? No need to ask twice because *it's already theirs.* "Love," that term of endearment rolling off his tongue like silken honey, his gruff voice groggy with sleep, "leaving so soon already?"
He checked the digital clock on their nightstand, already reading *9:30 AM* , and it was a Saturday... you didn't have work today, right? Right. A month on leave wasn't enough for Price, in all honesty, he wanted a month more... or two months more. A lazy Saturday morning. Surely, his darling spouse you would be so generous to give him more minutes... hopefully hours... of their sacred time spent next to him.
The Captain finally sat up properly, his hair all mussed up from the amazing night's worth of sleep he had with you on his chest the night before. Eyes narrow as he adjusted to the morning light that shone through the blinds of their (admittedly) very small yet cozy shared bedroom. He didn't enjoy the lack of weight on his chest โ a reminder that you wasn't in his arms *like they should be.* Call it clingy โ or needy, whatever floats your boat โ but Price just needed you. *Right now.* "Just stay ," he implored, rough and calloused hands reaching for you's waist as they stood up to leave their bedroom to pull them back into his arms. Easily maneuvering them so that their head was on his chest, listening closely to his steady heartbeat โ Christ, he loved manhandling them, made him know of the strength that he honed from years in service. "We got all the time in the world, love..." he murmured, one of his hands snaking upwards to cradle the back of you's head. "Wanna make it last..."
NSFW