#loved it to pieces | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeyinde · 2 years ago

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ahhhh, i'm screaming this is sooo perfect!!!!!!!! 🖤

John's subtle irritation and jealously at the beginning, the potent domesticity, and the fluff, the exchanges between MC and everyone else (Kate and Ghost in particular) - everything about this was stunning!!! you have such an incredible apt for intricately weaving little hints of domestic bliss within the margins that i lose it every single time i discover something new.

i read this five time!! i am in AWE!! 🖤

the feel of velvet

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Synopsis: In truth, it’s nothing you haven’t done before- how many times did you play the deadly seductress in your working years- but that had been before you were married, before you had a reason to come home. Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: alcohol, canon-typical violence, blood mention Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.

“You want me to what?”

You hadn’t known what to expect when John told you Kate would be making an appearance that morning. You figured it was work-related, a little disappointed that your husband’s already short time at home would be interrupted, but you barely made it two steps towards the living room when Kate asked you to join them.

You could understand if they wanted your input, or maybe if John had just wanted you nearby but this--

“Novikov knows the team, knows their faces,” Kate explains, calm as always. “Which is why we need someone he doesn’t know.”

“No, I understand that part, but why me? Don’t you have other agents for this?” You look between her and John, trying to glean an answer from either of them. Kate sits on the edge of John’s desk, arms crossed with that amused yet threatening smile you know means you can’t say no.

“I need someone I can trust on this, and no one else comes close to your skill level.”

She’s flattering you, and you know it; you haven’t worked in the field in years, and there’s no way there isn’t another agent under her who wouldn’t jump at this opportunity.

“Kate, you already know I’m gonna say yes,” you sigh, ignoring the triumphant look Kate sends to John, “but you have to tell me what’s so important about this mission that you want me to come out of retirement.”

“Novikov’s hosting a party, some fancy gathering between him and his arms dealer friends. If we play our cards right, this could be our chance to get close to Novikov and get information on some of the biggest foreign weapons dealers on our watchlist.” There’s something she’s not saying; you can tell by the way she keeps glancing behind her where John sits reclined in his leather chair. He doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes on Kate with his jaw set in a way that’s starting to concern you.

“What does that have to do with me, Kate?”

“Novikov has a type,” John answers flatly. His voice has a stern edge; he’s as reluctant to partake in this mission as you are.

“A type?” you ask. John turns his gaze to you, his face softening into something akin to pity, and you understand in an instant, unable to hide the disgust on your face.

“Oh.”

“You’ll be going in alone, but we’ll have eyes on the building from every angle, and I’ll be in your ear the entire time,” Kate says in an attempt at reassurance. In truth, it’s nothing you haven’t done before- how many times did you play the deadly seductress in your working years- but that had been before you were married, before you had a reason to come home.

“You’ll have an eye on me?” you ask, eyes fixed on your husband.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer, “The whole time.”

“Alright…count me in.”

“Just like old times, huh?” Kate laughs behind you as she messes with your hair. You roll your eyes, focusing on your reflection in the full-body mirror in front of you. The hotel room was nice, sitting within walking distance of the event you’re getting ready to infiltrate. You had arrived with Kate hours before John and his team were supposed to meet you, and she dragged you straight to the dressing room to start getting ready.

It was a little startling how quickly you fell back into your old routine, shedding your civilian persona with practiced ease. It takes almost four hours for your look to be complete, your hair pulled back into an elegant bun to show off your neck, and beautifully simple makeup. The dress is a sultry maroon velvet that shifts to deep blue under the light with a sinfully high slit on the right side. Paired with silver jewelry and high pumps, you felt like you were staring at a complete stranger.

There had been no expense spared in your appearance- there never was on missions like these- and you admire the way the dress clings to your body, unable to remember the last time you wore something so expensive.

“A little too much, actually,” you sigh, fastening the knife holster around your thigh. Kate sets her hands on your shoulders, staring at you through the reflection in the mirror.

“You’ll be fine,” she smiles. She gives you a small squeeze on your shoulders just as the door to the room opens, and someone lets out a long whistle before John’s voice reaches you.

“Not bad, Laswell,” he calls out.

“Don’t take too long,” Kate says, fixing one last piece of your hair before stepping out of the dressing room to greet him. You take one last look in the mirror as you listen to the faint sounds of Kate and John going over the plan: the team will keep watch, monitoring security and covertly taking out any threats. At the same time, you'll work your way into Novikov’s office to gain access to his computer.

A simple job considering the team's expertise.

You step back from the mirror, picking up your clutch that holds your handgun and Kate's thumb drive, and head towards the door into the hotel room. You take a moment, taking a deep breath to settle your nerves.

The mission isn’t the problem, you’ve done this more times than you can count, but it’s your first mission working with John. Sure, he knew you had worked under Kate- she had been the one to introduce the two of you- and he knew the nature of your job, but he’d never seen you in action.

You loved your job; you were one of the best in the business, but after so many missions filled with meaningless flirtations and too many wandering hands, you had been looking for an out.

One whirlwind romance with the man who would eventually become the love of your life later, you found yourself with a ring on your finger telling Kate you were retiring. She was sad to see you leave but happily let you go with a generous severance and the promise that she would always be one call away.

Now, you were about to go back into the fray, and John would see a different side of you for the first time in your relationship. He’d never judge you, you know that, but the apprehension still lingers.

Kate calls your name, breaking you out of your anxious stupor. The sooner you do this, the sooner you can go back home, you tell yourself.

You straighten, assuming your role as the confident and dangerous heiress, Sofya Kariyeva, and walk out of the dressing room. You follow the voices out of the bedroom and towards the living room, where the two of them stand with their backs to you. Kate stares at John in shock as he casually leans against the back of the sofa.

“You mean to tell me, in all your years together, you’ve never seen her dressed up?!”

“Not that I can remember,” John shrugs.

“What about your wedding?”

“We thought I was about to be sent on a suicide mission, Kate. We just called our witnesses and met them at the courthouse.”

“What about date nights? You always struck me as the romantic type. Surely, you guys dress up and go out whenever you’re off-duty?”

“He’s barely home a week at a time. We’re lucky if we stay dressed at all,” you laugh, claiming their attention. Kate smiles approvingly at you, but John…

It takes a lot to catch Captain John Price by surprise, the man is unnervingly prepared for everything, but he is wholly stunned the moment he lays eyes on you. You can’t help but blush at how his eyes rake over you, taking every inch of your appearance and committing it to memory with an unbridled hunger that sets your skin ablaze.

His jaw clenches as he swallows tightly, holding himself back from doing something utterly unprofessional in front of Kate, who looks far too amused for her own good.

“Turn around,” Kate tells you, “let me make sure your necklace isn’t tangled.”

You do as she says, turning and exposing the thin straps that plunge into a loose cowl hanging low on your waist to reveal the expanse of your back and how the thin silver braid hanging close around your neck gathers in the back to a shiny metal branch adorned with intricate leaves holding up a delicate diamond spotted chain that trails down the length of your spine. Kate steps up behind you, adjusting the necklace on your shoulders.

“There we go. Doesn’t she look great, John?” Kate spins you around, smugness radiating off her as she smirks at your husband. You scoff, playfully shoving her away from you.

“Let’s focus on getting this mission done before these shoes start to pinch.”

Kate nods, walking to the spread of blueprints on the coffee table. She hands you an earpiece hidden in a set of diamond earrings as she runs over the plan one more time. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz are already getting in position, and John will follow suit after you leave while Kate stays behind to monitor you from the hotel room.

You take a few extra minutes to review your cover, collecting yourself and shaking out any lingering nerves. After a quick test of your comms, Kate wishes you luck, and you follow John out of the hotel room and into the elevator. You move to the back, leaning against the railing with a sigh. As the doors slide shut, you roll your shoulders back, closing your eyes to take a deep, steadying breath.

“Nervous?” John asks. You open your eyes to find him staring directly at you, standing much closer than you expected.

“It’s been a while since I got paid to be felt up,” you joke, giving him your best teasing smile. He hums, stepping closer and closer until he’s almost pressed against you. He leans forward, gloved hands gripping the railing on either side of you to cage you in as he nuzzles into your neck. You giggle at the tickle of his beard and feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin.

Your laugh dissolves into a soft moan as he plants a kiss at the base of your throat, followed by a sharp bite and the immediate soothing of his tongue. His mouth leads a hot trail up the side of your neck to the underside of your jaw, unrelenting in its crusade. His hands glide from the railing to your hips, rubbing soothing circles into the soft velvet; even through the fabric of his gloves and your dress, you can feel the overwhelming sear of his touch. He presses close, crowding you against the back wall of the elevator, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your ear, and growls:

“Novikov lays a finger on you and I’ll cut his hands off at the fucking wrist.”

The elevator dings as the doors slide open, and John presses a quick kiss to your cheek before he’s suddenly gone, making his way out of the elevator and leaving you a flustered mess.

“Wow,” Kate’s voice echoes in your ear. “Good thing he’s not going in with you.”

It’s laughably easy to get inside, almost to the point where you’re a little concerned this might be a trap. Security doesn’t swarm you, and no one follows you as you work your way through the crowd, so you haven’t been made yet. You pluck a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, scanning the room for any sign of Novikov.

“Are we sure he’s here?” you ask through a dazzling smile as you nod at a passing couple.

“He invited these people personally. Doubt he’d go through all the trouble just to check out at the last minute,” Kate sighs.

“At least the champagne’s good,” you mutter, taking a small sip from your glass. You spend another fifteen minutes nursing the same glass and schmoozing with a few guests. Had this been a normal gala, you might’ve had a good time.

An hour in, you step out onto the sparsely populated balcony for some desperately needed air. You lean against the railing as the team argues back and forth over whether or not your target will make an appearance. You do your best to drown them out; there’s not much you can do from your position, enjoying the soft breeze and the glittering view of the city lights below you.

A hand slides along your waist's skin, and you tense instantly.

“Not enjoying the party?” Your comms go quiet as the man speaks into your ear. You don’t recognize the voice, but the Russian accent is a dead giveaway, and when you look up at him through your manicured lashes, you recognize his face easily from the pictures Kate showed you. Sharp features with a chiseled jawline, fierce amber eyes, and a blood-red suit that is probably worth more than your car.

Ilya Novikov is a handsome man; you’ll give him that.

“Not a fan of crowds,” you purr, a perfect imitation of his own accent as you blink up at him and try to ignore the way your skin crawls where his hand lingers on your lower back. Novikov grins down at you, pearly white and predatory.

“No? Then tell me, what are you a fan of?”

You lean in close, a coquette grin and soft touch to his forearm, “I prefer more…intimate gatherings.” Novikov chuckles, hand sliding from your back to your waist as he steps back. He plucks your hand from his arm, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“Ilya Novikov.”

“Sofya Kariyeva, but my friends call me Sonya.”

“Kariyeva? I don’t believe I’m familiar with that name.” His eyes narrow ever-so-slightly, looking you up and down in a gaze that’s just as much lecherous as it is suspicious.

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, pulling your hand from his, allowing your fingers to glide across his palm. “You’ll be well acquainted with it soon enough.” You wink, pulling away from him entirely to walk back inside, an extra swing to your hips.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Ms. Kariyeva,” Novikov calls out. You’re stopped suddenly as a hand firmly grips your arm, turning you to face him. “As this is a private party and I’m not familiar with you, I’m afraid I’ll have to have you escorted out.” He nods to someone behind you, and you glance back to see two hulking security guards making their way toward you.

You shrug casually and smile as you allow the guards to approach. Novikov releases your arm, and you take the chance to step towards him, one hand curling around the soft silk of his tie. You tug slightly, and he leans forward until his lips almost touch yours, eyebrow raised in curiosity as your other hand dances along his belt.

“What a shame,” you whisper, lips almost brushing his as your wandering hand dances up his torso and ever-so-subtly into his jacket’s inner pocket, “I thought you’d be more fun.” He smirks, leaning forward to close the distance, but you release his tie and pull back from him, taking his office keycard and tucking it against your palm. You spin on your heel, grabbing your clutch from the small table next to the balcony doors, and face the security guards with a wide smile.

“Shall we?” You saunter past them, sending one last coy grin over your shoulder. You can see them look between you and Novikov and take the opportunity to quickly maneuver into the crowd, disappearing among the sea of extravagance.

You hurry your way to the elevators, looking every bit the patient partygoer as you wait.

“Someone wanna tell me what floor I’m going to?” you ask quietly.

“Novikov’s office is eleven floors up; it’ll be the last door on your right,” Kate answers.

“Got eyes on the office. Entire floor looks empty,” Ghost speaks as the elevator doors open for you, and you step inside. You press the button, letting the tension ease off of your shoulders.

“Nice job, ma’am,” Soap whistles approvingly. “You ought to get an award for that performance.”

“Focus, MacTavish,” John snaps.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

It’s quiet, but you can hear Gaz and Kate snickering to themselves. You bite back a smile as the elevator comes to a stop and lets you out onto the 48th floor. You make your way to Novikov’s office, letting yourself in with his keycard.

“Nice place,” you mutter as you enter the massive corner office. It’s sleek and expensive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and a collection of books that makes you a little jealous.

“You need to find his laptop and-” Kate starts as you make your way to Novikov’s desk.

“Plug you in so you can download the guest list data, yeah, yeah. Way ahead of you.” You boot up his computer and plug in the thumb drive stashed away in your purse, letting Kate do her thing to get whatever data she needs.

You get a few solid minutes of peace before-

“Novikov just got in the elevator.”

“Elevator’s my only way out,” you hiss, glancing up from the computer to the door.

“There’s plenty of space to hide. He might not even be going to his office,” Soap offers.

“Novikov just got off on your floor.”

“Nevermind.”

“Laswell,” John’s voice cuts in, warning and low, “she needs a way out.”

“You’ve got eyes on me?” you ask, plan already formulating in your head.

“Affirm.”

“Kate, do you have everything you need?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then don’t worry. I’ve got this,” you lie. You close the laptop, sliding one strap of your dress down your shoulder and pulling your hair from its bun to drape it over your other shoulder. You move to stare out the massive window behind his desk as the door clicks, and Novikov cautiously enters. You look back at him over your shoulder as he takes in the scene before him.

“Lovely view,” you grin.

“Sonya.”

“I thought I told you; only my friends call me Sonya.” He raises a brow as you turn and face him. You saunter forward, and he meets you step for step.

“We aren’t friends?” he asks as you reach his desk, the two of you standing on opposite sides of the polished wood.

“You kicked me out of your party,” you tease, walking around the side of the desk, sliding your hand along the top and briefly over the thumb drive to pull it from the laptop.

“Kicking you out would imply that you actually left,” he deadpans as you place yourself on the edge of his desk, sliding one hand behind you to lean on it.

“I left the party. You didn’t say I had to leave the building.” He sets his hands on your hips, eyes focused on yours, and you take the opportunity the slide the thumb drive beneath a stack of papers behind you.

“And how did you know where to find me?” Novikov purrs, one large hand sliding up from your hips to your shoulder to play with the loose strap of your dress.

“Lucky guess?” you laugh. He laughs along, amused and impressed, as his hand settles on your shoulder. His grip on your hip tightens as his hand wraps around your throat, forcing you to stare up at him. He squeezes your neck, yanking you forward until you’re nose to nose with him.

“I don’t believe you.”

His other hand shoots up and closes around your throat, sending a shock of air out of your lungs. He maintains his grip as you struggle when you suddenly kick, digging the stiletto of your heel into his leg, and he stumbles back. You gasp for air, looking for your clutch that’s sitting on the edge of the desk, but Novikov beats you to it, knocking it away from you. You move for your knife, swiping at him as he closes in on you. He dodges your first two attempts, but you feign your next swing and catch him in the shoulder.

He throws himself away from you, landing a punch on your side, and you lose your grip on your knife. You step back, one hand cradling your side as Novikov pulls the knife from his arm with a stiff grunt.

“Should’ve left when you had the chance,” he taunts, waving the knife at you.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”

He lunges for you, and you dodge, but he reaches out and catches you by the chain on the back of your necklace. You reach back, grabbing the metal branch and yanking it away. The necklace snaps apart as your hand tightens around the metal, the sharpened leaves of the branch sticking out between your fingers. You spin and swing, decking him in the face.

Novikov yells as he stumbles back, cradling the right side of his face. You can see the blood pouring down his hand, dripping onto the tile. He glares at you with his one good eye, moving as if to lunge at you again.

Glass cracks to your left, and Novikov falls to the floor, blood leaking from the newfound hole in his head.

“Nice shot,” you exhale in relief, looking at the new bullet hole in the window.

“Nice trick with the necklace,” Ghost responds.

“Clever, isn’t it?” You pick up your purse, grabbing the thumb drive from the desk, and hurry out of the office. You make short work of the walk to the elevator that seems to take twice as long to get to you.

“You get your info, Kate?”

“Affirmative. There’ll be a car for you when you get outside. Rendezvous back at the hotel,” Kate explains as you step out of the elevator and into the lobby. You make your way outside, scanning the street for your supposed car.

An arm slides around your waist, and you tense, preparing for another fight, but your assailant murmurs into your ear, “Easy, dove.”

You relax, adrenaline rushing out of you. He guides you to the car, holding the door open for you and making sure the tail of your dress doesn’t get caught- always the gentleman, your husband. He gets in beside you, starting the car in silence. As soon as he pulls onto the street, one of his hands finds its way onto your thigh, sliding under the slit of your dress to grip possessively on your bare flesh.

The drive should’ve been short, but John drives past the hotel, continuing down the road without so much as a glance toward your former destination.

“Are you injured?” he asks. He sounds calm, but the grip on your leg is anything but.

“Hm?”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Got a good punch in, but nothing worse than a few bruises.” His hand squeezes once, sending painful shocks up your leg that he soothes with his thumb, rubbing soft circles into your thigh.

The car turns suddenly, coming to a halt in an empty alleyway. John removes his hand from you to turn off the car. You open your mouth to ask why you’re here, but you’re abruptly manhandled from your seat and into John’s lap.

“What are you doing?” You can’t help but laugh, kicking your shoes off and moving your dress so you can comfortably straddle him. John doesn’t answer, picking up your hand- the same one Novikov kissed- and pressing a kiss to the back of it. He turns your hand over, lips traveling to your wrist, then up your forearm. He continues his assault, pulling you closer and closer as he travels further up your arm. He eases the strap of your dress down, peppering your shoulder in kisses as you remove your earpiece, tossing it into the backseat.

“We should report back to Kate,” you breathe as he reaches your throat, lips skimming over the finger-shaped bruises beginning to form. His hands slide down your bare back, squeezing your hips before dipping under the low waist of your dress.

“Laswell can wait.”

It’s only twenty minutes past the meeting time when you and John catch up with the team back at the hotel.

They’re sitting in the lobby, dressed down from their tactical gear but still obviously out of place. Gaz notices you first; he sees the car pull up to the valet as John steps out and opens your door for you. You step out, barefoot with John’s jacket draped over your shoulders.

“Look who's back,” Gaz laughs as the other three turn to watch John give you his hand, helping you out of the car, and keep it in his grasp as you hand the valet the keys. John holds the door open for you, guiding you with a hand on your lower back, weaving his fingers through yours as soon as you’re both inside. You both look put well enough together, no clothes on backward or lipstick smudges. There’s a noticeable limp to your gait, but you’re cradling the side where Novikov hit you.

“Take a wrong turn?” Kate smirks as the team stands to meet the two of you.

“I needed a minute,” you sigh- the rasp in your voice a little too strong to not be recent- absentmindedly rubbing against the dark bruises around your neck, most of which are from Novikov.

“You need a medic?” Gaz asks, genuine concern on his face.

“No, a few painkillers and a hot shower, and I’ll be right as rain.”

“The mission was a success, all of the info transferred over without a hitch,” Kate praises you. “Not bad for your first time back.” You scoff out a laugh, shaking your head.

“This was my only time back. Next time, you can put Soap in a dress instead.”

“Oh no. Absolutely not,” Soap rebuffs before anyone can get any ideas.

“Why not? You’d look good in a ball gown,” Gaz laughs.

“Yer aff yer heid!”

“Alright, enough, you two.” John takes over, forming up with the 141 as Kate sidles up to you.

“You know, we’re all leaving tomorrow morning, but you don’t have to leave right then.”

“What?” You turn around, taking your attention from the boys to Kate. She raises her eyebrows, eyes flitting down to the jacket sitting on your shoulders. “Kate-”

“All I’m saying is-,” she smirks, glancing behind you, “-it’s a nice room, and it’s booked for another three nights. Might as well enjoy yourselves.”

“That’s not-”

“We will,” John speaks up from behind you, a hand settling on your hip. You turn to see the rest of the team scattered, making their way to their respective rooms. “Thanks, Laswell.” Kate laughs, sending you a knowing glance.

“Until next time,” she winks, waving a goodbye as she makes her way toward the hotel elevators.

“Well, Captain, looks like we got ourselves a mini vacation.” You peer up at John, teeth sinking into your bottom to hold back your grin.

“Good,” John hums, pulling you close to lean into your ear. “Cause I’m not even close to finished with you.”

#loved it to pieces #captain price x reader #fic recs

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