Hey Girlie.just Wanted To Ask A Question If You Are Working On 'if I Meant Something To You' Part 3,

OMG I JUST HAD A THOIGHT. What if like on this fic that you wrote “tulips or roses”, what if Rose and reader met?!?!

PLSPLSPLSPLS MAKE IT ANGSTY TO FLUFF TOO 🙏🙏🙏🙏

AMAZING THOUGHT POOKIE I WAS THINKING THE SAME >_< also i'm on holiday rn visiting family so ofc the wifi decides to the shittiest rn so apologies for slow uploads and errors :( and tags aren't working??? Word Count: 2k

Tulips meets Roses.

It was a Friday evening at the pub, where you sat beside John Price, your arms interlinked with his clenched bicep listening to another one of Johnny's story.

"'n' th' mornin' efter we shagged, she juist vanished! Efter a' th' love we made?"

Ghost grunts in mock sympathy, and Gaz stifles a scoff next to him, "She probably got scared of your haunted puppet collection mate-"

"Oh ye leave Bonnybelle oot o' this-"

These outings weren't as frequent as one would hope, considering how busy the Task Force usually was, but when there was a break with the missions, most of the soldiers found themselves at the hustle and bustle of the local pub, and it made it better when you could bring a plus one.

It's been a few months since the 'argument' about Rose, and even though John likes to name it a 'dispute', he's drilled it into your head how it was his fault completely not yours.

"Yeah well, me and my girl visited Bali for our anniversary-" Kyle boasts to the group.

"Yeah 'n' Simon gaed tae Croydon wi' his grandma, sae whit." [to all my non-londoners, Croydon is THE GHETTO. always in support of croydon slander]

John snickers, and you smile as the feelings of his arms encapsulating you. "You'll find someone one day, Johnny, I know it." You smile sloppily, partially tipsy from all the alcohol consumed and partially from all the sweet talk.

"Aye ah better, a'm wantin' th' Tulip tae mah Price."

Ah, turns out John's been calling you Tulip to everyone.

"She's limited edition, find your own fuckin' flower." John comically dismisses, taking a hefty sip of his beer, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

Your smile at the compliment is cut short when a blonde bob catches your peripheral, and just as you're about to turn your head to catch the face you're looking at-

"Is your garden in bloom?" Simon casually questions.

The table immediately erupts in coughs and laughter, with Gaz side-eyeing Simon's question, and Johnny laughing at the clever Bridgerton reference. John corrects his posture at the comment and covers his cough with his fist, a light tinge of pink painting his pale bearded cheeks. He'll make sure Simon runs double the amount of laps during practice.

"And that's my cue..." You press a warm kiss against John's temples, before heading off to the women's bathroom, not blind to the 'awwws' and coos from Soap, and the "What does it mean? I only watched the sex scenes..." from Simon.

Walking to the women's bathroom, you yawn and stretch your tense back after sitting on the wooden chair at the bar for so long.

"Tired?"

You snort, "An understatement, I'm sleepy as fuck- Oh."

Locking eyes with the voice in the mirror, grounds you back to reality. The once fictitious woman you were most worried about stands next to you in the bathroom, returning your glance through a mirror.

You break the silence, feeling awkward at the tense scene, although you're unsure if she's feeling the same. Does she know who you are? Does she think of you as her replacement?

"Weather's nice." A terrible comment considering it mid November in England; the weather's far from nice, yet Rose chuckles. For a moment, you can see why John longed for this woman, from the way her skin creased around her mouth as she flashed you a grin through the reflection.

"It's nicer in Greece, moved a few years back." She smiles amicably.

You hum, nodding as if in agreement, even though you hadn't even set foot in a Mediterranean country, "When did you come back? To the UK?"

She looks up, recollecting the days, "Hmm, must been a week now, Greece is lovely, but the UK's home, you know?"

Once again you just nod, watching as she pulls out a red Dior lipstick and reapplies to her supple lips. Watching her intensely focus on her lips makes you question John once again, a wave of insecurity rushing through you like that previous time.

She's so much better than me... You think to yourself.

"How's he been then?"

There's a pause in your breath, your eyebrows raising slightly. Rose makes eye contact with you again through the mirror, and you're grateful that she doesn't turn to look at you physically, you're scared that you might pass out in nervousness.

"I- uh, who?" You manage to blurt out, mentally cursing yourself for what you think sounded like a helium-produced high pitched squeak.

Rose chuckles at your response, "John Price. I see the way he looks at you, you been dating him for long?"

You purse your lips into a thin smile, even after years of dating and marriage, any compliment given to the both of you would send your heart to a warm frenzy.

"Been together for 4 years, married for 1..." Your smile in inevitably giddy as you admire the glittering rock plastered on your ring finger. Rose looks at your ring, her smile faltering a little, but you don't notice it in time.

"And you?"

"Me?" She straightens her posture, and even her mannerisms reflect that of your husbands a bit, "A few years of marriage...it's...nice." But it sounds like she's trying to convince herself more so than answering your question.

Your response is again, a shy nod.

Silence evades the conversation as she closes her lipstick delicately, placing it back into her expensive purse. You want to press the conversation further, beg her for more answers about the history that she might have had with John, you wanted to hear it from her perspective.

"I loved him you know."

Oh.

The world stops for a moment, and you feel the slow emergence of bile erupting from within. You're silent for moment, your thoughts halting. What kinda woman just announces that she had feeling for another's man...no, not just feelings...love.

Her reflection in the mirror breaks into small minuscule frames, as your eyes tear up. Not even a breath escapes from your mouth.

A droplet of sweat cascades down your back and you tremble at the thought of John kissing Rose.

"I...of course, realised too late. When we were celebrating my retirement, me and the team, I, uh...I was about to tell him...and I saw his phone screen...didn't know about you then, but it was a picture of you," She giggles at the memory, "Thought you must have been important 'cos that man's had that brick phone for years, and this is the first time I'd seen a different lockscreen."

You don't respond, unsure of whether to scream at her, calling her a homewrecker, or just to let her complete her speech. You realise she had used the past tense, loved. Did she still feel the same?

"And then I followed him back to his office...he was on the phone...to you. And oh my God. I swear I looked through the crack of his door, that guy was literally melting. Caught him twirling the invisible phone line and everything."

You can't suppress the tiny smirk on your face.

"And it was just a mundane conversation, nothing special...and it looked like he would kill the task force, just to have a spec of your attention on him. I've...never seen him this way, not even with me..." She whispers the last part, looking down at the droplets of water on the porcelain sink.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I guess I just came here to get closure-"

"Did you get it?"

The first you've said in minutes, and the tone was so gruff, one would think you were berating her.

She nods, still smiling, and for a second you wonder how strong this woman would have been, flying all the way back, just to see someone she'd harboured feelings with another.

"And even if I hadn't, I wouldn't do anything to either of you...forgive me, I'm not like that."

You nod, intaking some air after what felt like hours. You force yourself to turn your body towards her, a question still stuck in your head, urging to be answered.

"Rose." You whisper. She looks at you with a sweet smile, and for a second you feel bad for even thinking such inhumane thoughts about her.

"Do you still love him?" It was short and curt, no hesitation in your question, which did sound somewhat more like a command.

She looks at her reflection in the mirror, as if assessing her flaws and imperfections. There's another uncomfortable pause in the atmosphere, and it feels like the two of you have sucked a breath in anticipation.

The truth is...she doesn't know. What even is love? Is it measurable? Is it subjective, objective, definite, is it yes or no? Are there layers to love? Can you love two people at the same time? Has she ever felt love?

Does she still love John?

Did she ever love John?

Did John ever love...her?

She thinks back to when she walked into the bar, her eyes searching for the bearded captain, only to see them locked on...you.

Oh the way he looked at you. It reminded her of a loyal dog watching upon his master, like a peasant being granted a sip of golden delicious nectar for the first time. Like the way the moon orbits the Earth indefinitely, following Mother Earth on her orbital path.

Like the way a wounded man would rest in his knees painfully, praying for his Goddess to notice at least one his pleas, as he weeps for her.

It was a look she never gave to him, and one he never gave to her. That look, he had only reserved for ... you.

"No, I suppose not, not the way he loves you." It comes out in a pained whisper, and Rose can't tell if she wanted to go back in time to have John all to herself or if she believes that she would ever experience that kind of connection with him.

You hum, it felt like your voice box was strained every time you responded, but you felt at peace, finally.

How long have been in the bathroom for?

Run along now, John's probably looking for you.

You hug Rose, and you can tell she's not used to physical touch, the way her tall frame freezes at the contact. She smiles to you, silently apologising for her burdensome self.

You leave the bathroom, with a smile bigger than you had ever worn.

Soap's points towards you, at the table, and the others smile, John immediately whisking his head so quickly, you fear he might have pulled a muscle.

"Hey baby," you whisper into his hair, sitting down next to him, with his arm around you, where you belong.

"Jesus, sweetheart, 'was about to go to the bathroom m'self to look for you..." He mumbles, pressing his soft lips against your temple, purposely brushing his beard against your cheek.

You hum, as he presses fluttering kisses against your neck, whispering all kinds of affectionate names, oblivious to the fact that Ghost was already submitting a letter of compliant for excess PDA.

Rose shortly leaves, exiting the pub, her eyes falling on John's blushed cheeks burying into your hair, as she opens the door.

He turns to her, feeling someone looking at her, but instead of freaking out, he just smiles, acknowledging her presence, and quickly shoving his cheek against yours.

Tulips truly were his favourite flowers.

"SHE GAED TAE TH' BATHROOM 'N' DINNAE WASH HER HAUNDS"

tag yourself, i'm gaz's wife 😹 tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk , @spankmydepression , @yourfavbabigirl

Silent Smoker

John Price x You

nay's missing john price, so here's some fluff (?) anyone here comforted by smoking/someone else smoking? i'm not :/ - icl the smell is so repulsive to me, but i'm on my hands and knees for anything price does-

John knew you didn't like when he smoked. So, he avoided smoking.

Around you, that is.

He still frequently pulled out his cigars, lit them, and smoked them at the base, but when he came home he made sure to kiss your lips with his strawberry flavoured gum in his mouth, aware of your dislike it.

You hug him tightly, heart full of content now that your man's home, but you can't help but notice the slight scent of nicotine and whiskey coating his frame when you press up against him.

But you ignore it, you're both so tired, you from your regular 9-5 job, and Price, as a well-respected captain.

Price was aware you didn't like smoking. It reminded you of your neglectful parents, who you'd find preferred smoking over cuddling with their child. Or you're ex partners who'd just be smoking the day away as you struggled your way through university life.

So it came to his surprise when he found his half-used cigars lying around, on the bathroom sink, the ash tray, the balcony.

He knew the culprit would be you, I mean unless someone decided to break into your home, steal absolutely nothing, smoke his cigars, then leave, but he was confused on why and when you started.

Were you stressed? Were you bored? Were you curious?

Questions circulated John's head as he entered your bedroom after one busy day, 11 p.m. rolling by quickly.

"Love," he pressed his chaste kiss against your forehead before climbing into your bed, smile pressed against your head as your cuddle against his chest.

"John..." you mumble.

Yeah, you're the culprit. He can recognise that post-cigar smell from anywhere once your breath wafted towards his direction.

He pauses for a second, and sits up, causing you to look up at him, too tired to move. You tilt your head at him in confusion, and he swears his heart melts a bit.

"Sweetheart, you know you can talk to me about anything right?"

Your face bares a confused expression.

"The cigars-" he starts.

"Are you mad?" His heart breaks a little at your question.

"No! Of course not! I'm- I'm just a little confused. You always mentioned how you hated when I smoked, but you're doing it too- and that's okay!" he rambles, "But are you okay, I know we haven't talked much, we're both busy and stressed, and if there's anything I can do, I'd appreciate you telling me, I wan' to supp-"

You muffle his words with a kiss, smiling against his lips.

Oh John.

He sighs against you, sleep evading his eyes.

"Just a big stressed, no biggie, not a consistent thing." You mutter, pulling him back to laying next to you.

He wraps his arms against you, gently stroking your head, "You know you can always talk to me..." he mumbled against your forehead.

You smile at his kind words. Even when he's going through the most, he never fails to be by your side.

"I know, love, I know."

You both drift into a well deserved sleep, wrapped with the warmth of John's arms, and the faint scent of his cigars lingering around, knowing that this was a conversation for tomorrow.

JOHN COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU.

lord i need part 3 of if i meant something to you to have a happy ending for reader at least 😭🙏 other than that i love tulips and roses so glad i found you

THANK U FOR FINDING ME 😄

What if I fucked around and gave reader a sad ass ending heheheheh-

Read inpressive yet unimpressed and if I was reader I’d tear him a new one and be saying stuff like

“you care more about reputation than me. You beat me up because you went fucking crazy and acted all high and mighty! You can forget a wedding or an Austrian cottage or children. The only purpose you’ll serve in life is being a soldier and then letting your rotting body be fertilizer for the forest!”

Probs would get into more detail about it. I’m petty🥰💅🏻

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAALLLL

thanks for the inspo 😹😹😹

Omg in love with Impressive yet Unimpressed! Any chance for a continuation where König deals with the aftermath?

For sure! I do not want to leave it just like that!

Although, I can't lie, it might take me a while, cos idk how to continue it 😭 but feel free to give me ideas !!

Okay so I'm rereading Tulips and Roses, and omds there's so many spelling errors 💀💀💀

I wanna say it's cos English isn't my first language, but it practically is...

And everytime I try to edit them, Tumblr glitches and the changes aren't saved-

your tulips and roses fic was SCRUMPTIOUS omggg 🥹😫✨ i was also wondering are we going to get more Captain Price angsty fics in the future ??

Thank uuuuu

Duh ofc! I live for angst 😝🫶 feel free to give me ideas, anything in particular?

HEYY DAWG, hope you’ve had an awesome time so far. I wanted to ask if you have any plans to make a part 2 of “A Ghost of a Connection” Ghost fanfic. I lowkey been stalking ur page, hoping. No pressure tho. 😊😊

DAWG YOU GOT ITT part 2 under constructionnn

The pressure is on 😭

Again I apologise for the delay, I've got uni exams coming so I've been busy revising 😭😭😭

i literally check ur acc everyday for part 3😭

NOOO IM SORRY ITS COMING PROMISE IM HALFWAY THRU

Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum