I Guess Hes Not Heartless After All

likely to color and render at some point

a lil' pick me up

john price as a dad [ price ]

part two | part three

- Later in life dad, meets you when he’s 40 and you’re younger, by over a decade.

- It had been a few months of you dating John Price, having known him for a couple of years. He worked in the parachute regiment… that’s what he told you anyway… and had been going on dates before going back to his three bedroom house.

- ‘Age is just a number’, you had been closed off for so long to going after this man in his late 30s, early 40s even though you shared a morbid sense of humour and view on life.

- When you finally shared a night with John Price… he rocked your world and fucked you like nobody had done.

- You found out you were pregnant after 5 months of dating John and you were terrified of telling him.

- “John, I’m pregnant…”

- He stared at you before engulfing you in a crushing hug that you sank into. His eyes spoke all to you, smiling like his lazy grin.

- He’d never been so excited, usually women his own age left after a month or so because he was absent from their lives

- The chaos of his work life didn’t help either.

- That’s why he’d never had a child, no one had stuck around.

- The secret is John Price had always wanted to be a father but he didn’t want to be a bad one

- “It’s okay if you miss appointments because of work… I get it…” You wholeheartedly got that having a hectic work life yourself.

- But John Price made it to EVERY SINGLE ultrasound appointment by your side.

- He isn’t the mosh doting partner but during pregnancy… jeez… this guy steps up his game.

- Cravings, back massages and movie nights with popcorn and a blanket… he’s gotcha back.

- You move in with him pretty early on and he’s easy to live with. And stays up in the night to build the crib

- Insists he doesn’t require instructions… INSISTS…

- He’s territorial over the DIY that goes into the house in general let alone when the nursery is concerned.

- Leave it in his capable hands

- TF141 notice a difference in their Captain, he’d grown too nurturing for the normal Price.

- They asked him what was wrong… he didn’t answer.

- Price doesn’t tell any of the lads that he’s going to be a father. Maybe he would later on when the baby was born but not then.

- So the boys speculate what has Price so happy with a glint in his eyes. “Is he getting laid or what?”

- “I know right, he’s way too happy…”

- Ghost keeps silent, observing Price- he’s almost being fatherly with… ahhh, ‘He’s gonna be a dad…’ He thinks to himself.

- It was Price’s business not his, he just pats him on the shoulder, “You’ll be a good dad…” and that makes Price smile.

- John definitely wants to know the gender…

- He has an action plan to draw up

- “Christ, I’ve spent too much time in tactics…”

- Proceeds to draw up a baby action plan for a baby boy.

- Wasn’t entirely bothered what gender it was but just NEEDED to know.

- He’s in TEARS when he cuts the umbilical cord and holds his son. Glad he was your son as well as his.

- John definitely is a control freak when it comes to raising your child. But soon learns that not everything can be controlled in his civilian life when a kid is concerned.

- Loves holding his son while he sleeps in his arms

- Sometimes you’ll come home to them asleep in the exact same position on the floor. Not able to help but giggle, waking John up, “What’s so funny?”

- “Like father like son… I just hope he doesn’t have that attitude of yours…”

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Part two is out! Thank you for reading xx

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oh hey i still do 3d models yayayayaya

wips below the cut

John Prices wife coming to pick him up at the airport after he returns from a mission, but the car is now full of military men.

One look at the three boys, completely exhausted and pulling their phones out to book a taxi had your heart crying. Without thinking, you offered them all a lift to yours and Johns home for them to stay overnight.

So now there’s three men cramped onto your three backseats, John having the luxury of sitting in the front. Simon is on the end (still in his balaclava but luckily not the skull mask because you’d be a little creeped out seeing that every time in the rear view mirror), Johnny in the middle and then Kyle on the other end. Johnny complains for about 10 minutes that he’s squished in and has no room to move but after that he’s completely zonked out on Simons shoulder.

Your music plays quietly through the speakers and they’re happy to listen to anything that isn’t gun shots or explosions.

Once you arrive home, they all climb out the car, grabbing their bags from the boot and dumping them down in the living room.

“Place looks less lifeless than last time I was here,” comments Johnny.

“Finally got a woman’s touch to it,” adds Kyle.

You smile a little at the non-direct compliment. Price also looks around, noticing the little details that have changed or the things that have been added around his house, keeping a hand on your back. He leans down and kisses you gently, mumbling “I missed you” against your lips.

“I missed you too. But it looks like you’ve lost weight.” You glance down at his body. “I’ll fatten you up again,” you tease with a little giggle as he chuckles.

It’s around 9pm by the time you’ve cooked dinner for four people who have appetites of bears. They all look at you as if you’re an angel sent from heaven when they see the food, sitting down at the dining table silently and scoffing down the meal.

By 10pm, you go into the living room thinking they’re all watching TV but instead they’re all asleep. You grab some spare blankets from beside the sofa and cover them up except for John. You shake him awake and make him move upstairs into bed with you. There’s no way you’re letting him sleep on the sofa and not with you after weeks apart.

John "Soap" MacTavish x fem Reader

Summary: Johnny found an abandoned Baby during a mission

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or images used in this work, nor do I claim any rights to them.

Warnings ⚠️: None maybe grammatical and spelling errors 😅

Little Bundle

The night was quiet in the makeshift base, the only sounds being the distant hum of machinery and the occasional rustle of soldiers moving about.

John "Soap" MacTavish had just returned from a particularly harrowing mission, one that had taken a surprising turn. Instead of the usual spoils of war, he had found a baby

—abandoned and alone in a crumbling building. It was a sight that tugged at his heartstrings, and against all odds, he had brought the child back with him.

“Price, I can’t just leave her there,” he had argued, his voice firm yet laced with an unusual softness. Captain John Price had raised an eyebrow but ultimately relented, knowing that once Soap had made up his mind, there was no changing it.

Now, as he sat in his quarters, the baby swaddled in a makeshift blanket, he felt a strange sense of pride. He had fed her, changed her, and even given her a quick bath in the sink. She was a tiny bundle of joy, and he was determined to take care of her. But as the hours passed, the initial confidence began to wane.

In the middle of the night, the baby’s cries pierced the silence, echoing off the walls of the small room. Soap’s heart raced as he tried to soothe her, rocking her gently in his arms. “C’mon, lass, it’s just a bit of noise, right?” he murmured, but the baby only cried louder. Panic set in as he realized he was in over his head.

With a messy mohawk and dark bags under his eyes, he stumbled out of his quarters, cradling the baby against his chest. He knocked on the door of Y/N’s sleeping quarters, desperation creeping into his voice. “Y/N! Open up, please!”

The door creaked open, revealing Y/N, her hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep. “Soap? What’s going on?” she asked, concern etched on her face.

“I… I can’t get her to stop crying!” he blurted out, his Scottish accent thick with anxiety. “I fed her, changed her, even bathed her, but she just won’t settle!”

Y/N’s motherly instincts kicked in as she took a step back, allowing him to enter. “Let me see her,” she said, her voice calm and soothing. Soap handed over the baby, watching with wide eyes as Y/N expertly cradled the child. She gently patted the baby’s back, whispering soft words that seemed to calm the little one.

“Sometimes they just need to burp,” Y/N explained, her tone reassuring. After a few moments of gentle patting, the baby let out a small burp, followed by a contented sigh. Soap’s shoulders relaxed as he watched the transformation.

“See? Easy peasy,” Y/N said with a smile, and soon enough, the baby’s cries faded into soft coos, and then silence. Soap couldn’t help but grin, relief washing over him.

As they settled onto the bed, the baby nestled between them, Y/N and Soap exchanged whispers. “She’s cute, isn’t she?” Soap said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, she is,” Y/N replied, a soft smile gracing her lips. “I never thought I’d see you like this, Soap. You’re a natural.”

“Maybe I’m not as bad as you thought,” he teased, nudging her playfully. “I mean, I’ve always been good with kids, right?”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’ve always been a pain, but I guess you’re not entirely hopeless.”

As the night wore on, they found themselves drifting closer, the warmth of each other’s presence comforting. The baby slept soundly between them, a peaceful little angel in the midst of chaos. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and they both succumbed to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten.

In that quiet moment, amidst the chaos of their lives, they found a sense of peace—a bond forged not just in battle, but in the shared responsibility of caring for a tiny life. And as they slept, the baby’s soft breaths filled the room, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always room for love and hope.

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Hope you like this fanfic, let me know if you have a request, feel free to send it over.

Price who rethinks about his life choices when his kid asks him what year he was born just for them to say "Wow, you're old daddy! Were dinosaurs scary?"

Simon who was teaching his little girl some carpentry because it wasn't just a boy's job, right? Of course it isn't! But he does internally cringe when his kid grabs a nearby hammer due to curiosity and drops it on his foot.

Kyle who silently gulps nervously & you see sweat forming at his forehead when his kid goes up to him and asks help with their homework (Not that he's stupid or anything, he's a grown man after all, just genuinely doesn't want to get anything wrong.)

John who had to witness first hand how honest and mean children were when his own child came up to him, all smiles at first just to say– "You're hair looks a little weird, daddy." Then runs off to continue doing whatever.

(uhh im a different person at night, if this is bad, blame them not me)

the wedding of simon riley [ ghost ]

WARNINGs: mentions of abusive injuries, abusive domestic behaviour

Being in the SAS was a lonely practice, well, that’s how Simon Riley saw it. Though, his existence was one of violence and he didn’t want his family being dragged into another volatile situation or any other innocent soul.

That’s why he was alone, that’s why he didn’t date anyone and that wasn’t going to change. Until it did…

A shout, “He’s got my bag!” And he started running after the vandal, catching him quickly and with precision. Face mask up as was his hood. Racing steps behind him… and there you were, your hands scraped and tights ripped at the knees. “Thank you so much…” Your eyes sparkled almost at him, curious what your saviour’s face looked like.

He simply handed you the bag- you noticed gloves… not paying much attention, “It’s nothin’…” Gruff and unbending, you could tell then that he was a hard ass as he turned his back to you.

“Lemme get you a coffee or something?” The stranger’s head shook, walking away. His eyes a stark contrast when your hand wrapped his tattooed wrist. Almost as if it were a trigger point and you removed it as soon as you had touched him. “You didn’t have to get the bag… please let me get you a coffee, a tea… a vodka?” A teeny tiny smile beneath the mask.

That’s how you ended up in a tea shop, in completed silence. Was he trying to scare you off? Maybe but you happened to be very persuasive and chatty. His worst nightmare.

Finding out his name was Simon, and he was in the military. And he didn’t do well in social situations, or at least with you. Speaking enough to realise he didn’t have many acquaintances let alone friends. Probably of his own doing…

Taken aback when he asked to walk you home- to avoid anymore attempted muggings. Not normal for you to let someone do that but he didn’t have to return the bag. “This is me…” Pointing to the house, “Thank you for all your help, Si-,” Then your red door opened, revealing the familiar figure.

“You were gone longer than you said…” The tone was wasn’t one of worry or concern, Simon knew that feeling in his gut. But it was your life, and he was probably wrong. So he waved it off. “Who’s this, babe? He bothering you?” That instinct in Simon flaring more. Especially the crazed look in his eyes.

Until he looked to you; bubbly and extroverted while on your own, now a husk. Silent and woven inwards. That sparkle dimmed. “I got mugged… he got my purse back for me…” You couldn’t even reach Simon’s eye line. While fists clenched at your partner’s sides.

“She’s helpless, mate. I always clear up her messes, thanks,” Simon had never despised being patted on the shoulder as much as he did in that moment. But what had him more on edge was how he never noticed bruises on your wrists, and how forcibly your boyfriend held you around the shoulders and was leading you up the stone walkway to the normal house.

Hearing a shout and then a slap when that door closed. Simon had a choice… leave and pretend like you never existed… or what he did next.

Not bothering to knock, finding you on the floor- tears streaking down the face you held. Before gunning for your partner, a perfectly taken frame photo crashing to the wooden boards as his large frame smashed your partner into the wall. “I’ve met men like you before… you are going to pack a bag and leave Y/N alone…” That was until a small hand held Simon’s shoulder, his eyes softened.

“Dave, just leave… go to Chris’… just go…” You didn’t know if you’d had the strength to do that, but having a military man beside you made it easy as he held your partner against a wall. Then Simon dropped him, shattered glass at his palms. “I will call the police, David… I’ll deliver your shit to your mums.” Time slowed for you while moving too fast and David was gone. His car unblocked your driveway with music blaring down the street.

Managing to lock the door- letting out a sigh… Feeling drained, “Thank you…” Is all you mustered, before collapsing into a flood of tears. Trying to splutter out an apology, but this relative stranger just stroked your hair letting you lean against him. Thoughts racing, never finding a moments peace in four years of being with him. But able to find a speck of hope in a man you had only met about four hours ago… “You can go, you’ve done more than enough good deeds for the day…”

Standing up from the sofa, heading through to the kitchen. The kettle clicked, Simon was impressed you didn’t pick yourself on the vodka you’d offered him earlier in the day. Instead he found you, elbows finding balance on the countertop.

You asked him to the stay in the house- maybe trauma clouded your judgement. You slept in the guest bedroom, not capable of blocking out the atrocities that occurred in your own. With a stranger downstairs.

When you woke up, the glass had been clean up and the smell of breakfast wafted. Mask still covering his nose and lips. “I thought you’d have left. You didn’t have to cook, bless your heart…”

Something knocked Simon from his daydream. The only face he wanted to see on the daily right in front of him. Forgetting where he was for a split second, his hands holding your tiny ones in comparison. “Simon Riley, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Part of him focused that his Captain was officiating his wedding, while all of him focused on you. The woman he hadn’t left, the person who had remained loyal to him when he came home bloodied and dirty.

Every second of each mission, he wished he could have you in his arms. Even when you weren’t his to hold. Fearing that you’d have forgotten about him in two months, only for you to turn up at his apartment with some chocolate and a ‘welcome home’ card.

Each and every time he returned back in British soil.

You didn’t complain about the terrors he shouted at in his nightmares- holding him when the muttering started and pulling him awake. Never judging him for the pills he swallowed to balance him out again. Simon looked down on himself while you only ever looked up to him.

No attempt to lift the mask until he did it himself. You’d been friends after that first incident for two years until you made the move. And six months after you were stood at the alter in front of not even ten people.

The people he felt comfortable with: his squad members, his mum, his brother and sister in law… whatever family you were close with enough to know what laid under that mask; a cheeky grin whenever he taunted you or… did other things to you…

There would be no announcement in the local newsletter on marriages and funeral directories, no posts on social media. But you knew that when met him… nothing high-key.

With all that in mind, you looking angelic… just wanting to kiss you… “I do.” And before Price could speak, his lips were on yours. Cheering from your nearest and dearest. His hands held your growing stomach, holding his future.

“I love you,” Foreheads together, smiling while you knew Johnny was taking cheeky snaps of you two. “Mrs Riley…”

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PLEASSSEEEEE I BEG FOR MOTIVATION PLLLLSSSSSSS

hank