Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sound of your heels clacked on the marble floor as you strode through the lower levels of the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Only a couple hours until you could go home for the day. Not that you had much to look forward to there. One of your friends had set you up for a blind date, which, from the sound of it, was going to be pretty useless. If you were being perfectly honest, you’d rather be staying in the museum working on your next project. 

The only reason you were so dressed up had been a meeting with the board of directors that morning. Typically, a suit and heels weren’t exactly your favorite thing.  But that morning you’d got amazing news, so it was all worth it. You’d been given the green light to put together a new exhibit. 

The work in the museum was your true passion in life, and getting to do this was your favorite thing. Not only did you get the satisfaction of approval from the board members, after all they wouldn’t let you keep making exhibits if they were shit, but it meant more hours with your favorite things, the paintings. Really you liked anything historical. Your life had been filled with history, anything you could get your hands on. Each Christmas while you grew up, your only request was field trips or museum memberships. 

The gallery was your own slice of heaven though. You’d been one of the youngest full curators the V&A had had in recent memory, and it was your pride and joy. Hours spent going through the archives, days setting up and designing the exhibits. Alone with nothing but your music, which to most would sound terrible, but to your introverted self, it sounded incredible. And the ultimate thrill of the opening day, getting to watch from the sidelines as people enjoyed your hard work. 

Climbing the stairs, you slid through a door into the museum proper, emerging into the book collection, your second favorite part of the museum. You slowed, enjoying the walk and the scenery, and trying to quiet your steps so your heels didn’t bother the patrons. Passing into the next room, you nodded to the security guard. 

Headed to your section, you were planning on standing in the space to get an organic feeling for what you were about to spend the next months working on. You were so pumped about the new exhibit you’d had to get started on requisitions and thoughts of layouts. The hard work would come later, but for now you were rolling with the endorphins. 

A few more exhibits and rooms, more greetings to the guards. There were so many people who worked there it was both impossible to know everyone, and impossible to not know anyone. You’d formed some friendships, but not many. Even less that were close ones. Though as long as you had a couple people to rely on, you were perfectly happy being by yourself. 

Steps slowing, you reached the gallery. There wasn’t a security guard there at that moment, so you leaned in the doorway, getting comfortable in the space. There were a few people visiting, but not many given the weekday. Which was perfectly fine by you, made it easier to survey the room. 

Half an hour passed peacefully like that, you mentally placing paintings and items, the replacing them with other items from the inventory and rearranging. This wouldn’t be the only time you’d do this, but the first ideas were often the best. The security guard popped in for a while, but left to do more rounds. The middle aged man was sweet, but you preferred the silence to think. 

Luckily, the museum goers didn’t bother you either. Your clothing didn’t scream holidayer, but it also wasn’t a uniform. Between the fact that you didn’t quite fit in making people uncomfortable, and the level of confidence you had within the area, people gaze tended to just slide over you. It wasn’t that you didn’t like talking to the visited. In fact, that was probably your favorite interactions with people. Getting to talk about your special interests was way better than having to make small talk. It just helped you for now to be left alone. 

You crossed the room to the far door to get a different perspective, loitering in that doorway instead. After you’d been there for a few minutes, you noticed a jacket that you’d already seen. The only reason you’d noticed the man before had been the distinctive patch on the back, green and gold. Absentmindedly, your eyes followed the man as he wandered the room. 

There wasn’t anything particularly weird about seeing the same guy twice. People circled back all the time to see exhibits. Hell, you worked there and still went back multiple times to see the same things. The way that he was wandering though, was odd. He didn’t stop to look at things normally, it was like he was trying too hard to make it look casual. Something that you never would have noticed without spending hours of your life watching patrons. Even so, it was more like he made you uneasy rather than there was specifically something wrong. 

Shaking your head slightly, you went back to looking at the small notepad you’d been jotting things on. When you looked back up, you happened to look in the direction of the other doorway. Just in time to see one of the most gorgeous men you’d ever seen walk in. 

The way that he walked exuded confidence. He was tall, and muscular, but in a way that said functional rather than body builder. Built like a mountain. But one you wanted to cuddle up to? No, you shooed that thought away. He wore a plain grey T-shirt and jeans, nothing that stood out. His face was handsome as hell, blue eyes, shortish hair brown hair with slight flecks of grey, and striking facial hair. Kind of like mutton chops, but connected to his mustache. Little weird, but he more than made it work. 

Suddenly aware that you were staring, you snapped your head back to the notebook. Once you composed yourself, and told yourself that you were stupid for admiring someone who would walk out momentarily, you went back to what you were doing. Annoyingly, though, you couldn’t focus. Every time you looked up, the two men kept drawing your attention. The first one still hadn’t left, and now the gorgeous one was distracting in his own way. He also was behaving oddly, though it was hard to concentrate on that part instead of his looks. 

It took five more fruitless minutes before you completely gave up on it. It was getting close to an hour of standing too, and you still had some emails to answer before then end of the day. Tucking the pen into the spine, you snapped shut your notebook. One last look at the men, and you turned on your heel, passing through an anteroom before getting to a corridor. This was also lined with paintings, just a different part of the same exhibition. 

You were about half way down it when you heard a gunshot. Your steps stuttered, half tripping before you caught yourself. Stupid heels. Not important. Why the hell was there a gunshot. Another one, and another in quick succession. Back and forth. They were coming from behind you, from the gallery you’d just come for. 

People were screaming now, after the second shot. Running towards you, from the gallery. You were frozen, torn between a righteous anger at the thought of your paintings being damaged and a surprisingly small sense of self preservation. Slowly, you backed towards the door, and safety. For whatever reason you brain focused on the fact that the two men you’d been watched hadn’t emerged yet. More gunshots sounded, and footsteps pounded from the gallery to your room. A figure rounded the order and you didn’t wait to figure out who it was. Ducking behind the closest podium, you hid. 

Thankfully, you were the only person idiotic enough to still be hanging around. You inched around as the footsteps went past you, and you caught sight of the first man in the green and gold running past. Thinking you were in the clear, you poked your head around, only to get snatched back. 

Wide-eyed, you looked up to find the handsome man crouched over you, gun in hand. 

“Maybe wait until you’re absolutely certain they’ve gone to put yourself in the line of fire,” the man said. His voice sounded like sandpaper, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He had to be mid thirties, you thought, now that you were close. 

“Well I wasn’t exactly planning on getting shot at again any time soon, but I’ll take it under advisement,” you replied, your voice clipped and British accent coming out strong. 

He looked at you funnily, probably not expecting snark. Moving forward, he crouched at the side of the door, and you followed, settling up on the other side of the doorway. Not entirely sure why. Just seemed like a better idea that sitting still. He waited a moment before looking around the corner. Immediately, a shot rang out, hitting the podium you’d just been at and he snatched his head back.

“Sort of think you should take your own advice,” you hissed. You really weren’t sure why you were being such a cheek, but getting shot at was way out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he rasped. He stared at you, a confused look on his face for a moment, then got back to the task at hand. The two of you could hear footsteps running away now, and looked out in time to see the man duck into the stairwell down to the archives. 

The man with you jumped up, running towards the door. You followed. Of course. 

“Where does this go?” He asked, obviously noting you for an employee rather than a visitor. 

“Down to the archives,” you replied, shaking your head. “They’re a maze down there, he won’t be able to find a way out anyway. Security will be here soon.”

“Can’t wait for that,” he said, ripping open the door and going in gun first. 

“Then I’m helping.” You followed him through more cautiously. At least you were learning. 

“What? No, stay here.” He rounded on you, concerned and confused expression on his face. He was quite a bit taller than you, and much bulkier, cutting an impressive figure, and kind of intimidating now all of his attention was on you. 

“You’ll lose him immediately, I can help. I know these places like the back of my hand,” you replied, standing firm. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

He hesitated more, and you raised your eyebrows at him. When he didn’t make a move, you slid past him. He groaned and turned, heading down the stairs two at a time to overtake you. “Why the hell do you want to help me anyway?”

“Mostly because I don’t want you shooting anything important. You didn’t shoot a painting did you?” The two of you popped out into the main corridors. “If you shot one of my paintings I’ll kill you my bloody self… THERE!” You said, spotting the man shooting down one of the tunnels. 

The two of you took off running. “Your paintings?”

“I’m the curator, its my exhibit. Same thing. I tend to get a little possessive,” you replied. 

The two of you hit the corner and he made you stop behind him before he rounded it. You took the moment to take your heels off. Honestly, you were just impressed that you’d been able to keep up that long. 

“Shit,” he said, “he’s gone. Where does this go?”

“We’re in ancient Egypt right now. There’s an exit if you know where you’re going, but it goes into deep storage. Lots of crates.” 

“Right. I’m going to go first, you just let me know if I’m putting myself into a trap or a dead end, OK?”

“I can do that,” you replied, more confidently than you felt. Still going after an unknown gunman, after all. “You know its just occurred to me that I assumed you’re the good guy in this situation based off of the fact that you’re hot. That might not of been the best choice, seeing as I’m now down here with two men with guns.” 

“You think I’m hot?” He replied, confusion in his voice. He turned and gave you a look like you were the most bemusing thing he’d ever seen.  

“Didn’t mean to add that part. I blame the stress,” you replied. The two of you stopped at another corner. “Go left. Right just takes you to storage.”

“Captain John Price, Army. I’d say I’m on the good side,” the man said, glancing over his shoulder at you and nodding. “Though this guy might say the same.” 

“Two sides to every story, I suppose. But Army is a good start, never gone wrong so far with them. Go straight down here, then right at the junction,” you said. Price took off running down the long corridor, and you sprinted to keep up. Good thing you somewhat stayed in shape. 

It went like that for a few turns, before Price stopped suddenly, reaching out to shove you back against the wall. A shot rang out. 

“Jesus,” you hissed, and Price returned fire.

The Captain moved on, and you followed again. At the next hallway he made it across, and you barely slid to a stop before the shot hit the far wall and you couldn’t move past. He tried to shoot again, but another shot came at him, winging him in the hand, and he dropped the gun. 

“Well that’s fucking great,” you hissed as he shouted in pain. 

Panic and adrenaline driving your thoughts into line, you dove across the opening, grabbing the gun as you skidded past. Taking a second, you tossed a heel into the hallway, and the man shot at it. Using that to work out trajectory, you simultaneously rounded the corner and armed, hitting the guy square in the shoulder. 

“What the fuck was that? How the fuck do you know how to shoot?!” Price yelled, grabbing the gun off of you and staring. 

“Dad was in the Army! He taught me shoot when I was a kid! For protection and we used to go bird hunting every weekend,” you replied, the reality sinking it. “Hooooly shit. I just shot someone.” You stared at him wide eyed. 

“Yeah, you did. Good girl,” Price soothed. “One of those posh families?” 

“You could say that. Titled, with an estate and everything,” you responded, half a mind still on the shooting. “Moved out ages ago, so its more just for show.” 

“You’re a Lady?” Price said, working his way down the corridor now. You followed. 

“Yup. Lady Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied, grateful for the way he was trying to distract you. 

“Pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he replied, cracking a smile for the first time. 

The two of you came across a blood trail, and followed it to an exit door finally. Price pushed it open, leading out onto the street. 

“You were incredible. Truly, bloody amazing. But I’ve got it from here,” Price said, turning to you and tucking his gun out of sight. 

His blue eyes met yours, and they crinkled at the corners as he smiled. You smiled back out of habit, and the moment was gone. He turned and was gone off down the street and out of sight within a second. 

You found yourself stopped in the doorway, not sure what to do. That had to be the most insane moments of your entire life. And now you were lost, adrenaline still pumping but no way to get rid of it. Like you’d been left afloat without anything to hold on to. Eventually, slowly, you pulled the door shut, and retraced your steps to pick up your heels. Mind still wandering, you traipsed back to your office, sitting heavily in your desk chair. 

It had felt like hours, but in reality it was barely leaving time. Mechanically, you packed up, leaving a few moments later. The commute home, first walking to the tube, then walking to your apartment, felt like it wasn’t quite real, like you were on autopilot. 

What finally got you back to the present was opening the door to meet your dog, Ollie. He was an English Springer Spaniel, a present to yourself after university, and your best friend. Jumping around your feet, you soothed him, getting your shoes changed and taking him out for a quick walk. 

The rest of the afternoon to evening went by perfectly ordinarily. Around 5:30 you started to get ready for your date. You had spent most of the last couple hours considering cancelling it, but there wasn’t much point. Not like it was healthy to sit at home and hang out reminiscing about your afternoon. Once your mind had settled, you’d considered if you should have said something. Called the police, the Army, anything. But how the hell would you have explained shooting someone? You even wondered if you should call your Dad, but he was on holiday in France, so there wasn’t much he could do either. Other than perhaps go all protective and call every possible superior to figure out who you’d met. And that’d just be embarrassing.

Chapter Text

It was tempting to not put any effort in, but you at least tried to get ready for your date and put on a good face. Nice, and pretty, to your eye, but still casual. It was only a first date with someone you didn’t know, after all. 6pm hit and you left, headed to a pub in the next neighborhood over. It was a chill evening, and you were happy to see the warm, inviting lights of the pub.

Once there, you pushed open the heavy door. Inside was typical. Cozy, low light, a big wooden bar, tables littering the floor and booths on the sides. You glanced around at the patrons, a good mix of different people, and the place was about a third full. Your date was sitting in a booth near the back, and he looked up and waved at you.

He was tall, on the skinnier side, blonde hair and blue eyes. You pushed down the thought that he was no where near as good looking as the guy you’d met earlier. A nice smile greeted you, and he stood to give you a hug as you approached.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked as you slid into the booth after greetings.

“Sure, thank you,” you replied, smiling at him and asking for your favorite drink. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all, so far, so good. Though, by that standard the bar was on the damn floor.

After he returned with menus and drinks, the two of you settled into easy conversation. It wasn’t the best, but it also could be a lot, lot worse. He was polite, ordering all your drinks and food so you didn’t have to get up, and kind, though a little full of himself. Most of the conversation was one sided talking about himself. But overall, just a really nice guy. Sweet, courteous, but nothing that really stood out.

Later on, he paid the bill as you were getting ready to leave, and escorted you to the door.

“I’d really like to do this again,” he said, opening the door for you.

“Same, I had a great time tonight. Thank you, for everthing,” you replied, smiling at him. You weren’t lying either, you had a connection and the guy seemed like he at least deserved a second date. Maybe your standards needed work, but it was nice to have what seemed like genuine conversation. The two of you had started down the road outside at this point, but you stopped at the junction. You’d made it out of the Main Street, where the light wasn’t reaching quite as well. “Text me whenever you’d like to. I’m this way then.” You semi awkwardly pointed down the road behind you.

“Perfect,” he responded turning to follow you.

“Oh, uh, you’re this way too?” You said, confused.

“I figured that we were going back to your place,” he replied amicably, a small smile playing over his face, and he shrugged. “I’d have to get on the tube to get to mine.”

A lightbulb went off in your head. “Oh. I don’t really think that we’re at the point to going home together just yet.” You wanted to apologize out of societal norms, but you stopped yourself. There wasn’t anything to apologize for.

“What do you mean?” He asked, brow furrowing.

“I mean, maybe at a future point we’ll go home together. There was a spark, which is why I want to see you again. But I’m not comfortable taking this to the next level just yet,” you replied, being firm but kind, not wanting to anger him nor be too rude in case it was a misunderstanding. But your heart was sinking, and you really just wanted out of this situation.

His expression twisted as your words sunk in, into something a lot meaner. “What do you mean?” He repeated. “I paid for all of your drinks. I paid for your food. I was nice to you,” he whined.

“Yes, and I appreciate all of that, of course, but that doesn’t change my mind.”

“You owe me,” he said, reaching out for your arm. You snatched it back, stepping backwards.

“Hey, what the hell?” This was escalating far more quickly than you could keep track of, your brain feeling like it was struggling through molasses to process that you were in danger for the second time that day.

“Oh, c’mon,” he hissed. “Its not like I’m asking for much. Just a quick fuck, pay me back for what I’ve done tonight. It’ll be fun”

“I said no!” Your voice rang out, but he grabbed you by the shoulders anyway, leaning towards you to try and kiss you. His breath stunk of alcohol and he smelled of sweat and anger.

The self preservation that had been lacking earlier that day kicked in immediately, and you started to fight back, trying to knee him in the balls. He pulled you in hard, and you squirmed, harder. Your mind was starting to panic, confused how you went from shooting someone this afternoon to being helpless in the evening. His hands started to roam, coming up and trying to grope you.

Then, suddenly, almost violently, it stopped. He stopped. Or rather, he was ripped off of you and you stumbled backwards, not having time to readjust from your struggle, but not having his hands holding you up. Catching yourself, you stared in complete and utter shock at the same man for the second time that day.

John Price had materialized out of the dark and had the guy pushed face first into the wall of the alley next to you. As you watched, he flipped him around and punched him in the stomach, hard enough for him to double over. Price pulled him up by his collar, and bent down, whispering something into his ear. He pulled back, sending a hell of a right hook into his temple, knocking him out cold. The man slumped on the ground, and Price toed at him with his shoe, not even breathing hard, disdain disfiguring his still handsome features.

He humphed, before turning back around to you. Your mouth dropped open, trying to process what had just happened in the last 10 minutes. As you stared, Price flipped a switch. In a split second, the man who had just violently and easily knocked someone out was gone, concern and care rushing to crowd his face.

“Are you alright?” he rushed out, worry scrunching up his face as he came towards you. You involuntarily flinched, taking a step back, your fight or flight instinct still in full force, powered by adrenaline. He immediately stopped his advance, holding his hands out slightly in front of him in a placating gesture. “Sorry. Sorry. Its OK, everything’s fine,” he soothed, his voice low and rhythmic. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get out here.”

“I… I didn’t think… I didn’t think he was capable of that,” you stuttered, finding your voice.

“Do you mind if I come closer?” Price asked gently.

You looked up, gaze guarded, but you didn’t see anything other than genuine concern on his expression. So you shook your head.

He came towards you, telegraphing movements before he made them. His hand came up, cupping his hand, his index finger meeting your chin. Gently, he raised your face to look at him. “Are you alright?” He repeated, quieter, not wanting to startle you. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, no, not really. Not physically. Just shocked right now,” you replied. Obviously, you knew things like this happened. It wasn’t rare, and it wasn’t even the first time. But that didn’t take the sting off of it. Of having your trust broken like that.

“I know, I’m sure you are,” he said, his voice low and raspy, but comforting like waves on the sand.

You tried to lower your head wanting to turn your thoughts inward and replay the last few minutes. You met resistance though, Price’s hand still holding you. He searched your face for a couple seconds, and you wondered what he found there, the thought breaking though the haze in your mind. It wasn’t forced, but it helped you keep your mind strong, giving you something to focus on and not letting you spiral. Slowly, he lowered his hand.

Another thought cleared its way through the mess in your head.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this. Anymore, and you’ll be making a habit out of saving me,” you said, proud of yourself for how strong your voice sounded.

Price’s face broke out into a lopsided smile. “I’ll try my best not to keep saving you if you try your best to say out of trouble,” his voice was low.

“It seems to keep finding me when you’re around. Normally my life isn’t nearly as interesting. Maybe you’re the bad luck charm,” you replied, teasing gently, coming back into yourself slowly.

“Bad penny, that’s me. Can’t get rid of me,” he responded back, slightly worried about your mental state still, the fact that you had immediately started deflecting with humor worrying him more than if you’d been crying.

“Two sides to every coin. Seems yours is bringing bad luck and then saving me from it.”

You tried to keep a strong face on, but there was a crack in your expression. It threatened to break wide open, and worry filtered in, you felt once more adrift, not equipped to deal with all these events. Which, of course, Price immediately picked up on.

“Want to come for a drink with me, girl? At least until I’m more convinced you’re doing OK.”

“I’m fine,” you replied automatically, mechanically.

“Then come and convince me,” he shot back. “I’m not going to force you, and I’m not trying to get anything out of you. Obviously.” He jerked his head back at the man, who was still unconscious. That must have been a hell of a punch. “Just want to make sure you’re OK. Been a hell of a day for you.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered. Price was still standing close to you, and you had the hardest time not just collapsing into him and letting his thick frame wrap you in a hug. That train of thought, and how ridiculous it sounded, was what prompted your next comment. “Sure. Yeah. I could use a drink.” Obviously not in a proper state of mind.

“Great,” Price’s face lit up, and you decided you wanted to see that more often. “Back to the pub?”

“That sounds great,” you replied, still not sure how the hell you’d ended up here.

The two of you walked the couple streets back, Price hovering just behind you. He wouldn’t mention it to you of course, but he wan’t to be certain your date wasn’t following you, his protective instincts strong even though he barely knew you.

Price was polite, careful and gentle with you, a drastic contrast between how he was acting with you and the aura he gave off. Opening the door, leading you to the bar, getting a drink order. The same things that your date had done earlier. But he made sure that the way that he did it felt natural, not pushy. His confidence and calmness shone through, putting you at ease.

He sat you at the end of the bar, giving you the more secluded spot so you could feel more protected. You toasted him, shot him a tight lipped smile, and swigged half of the drink. Price just raised an eyebrow as he sipped his whiskey.

“How’d you know we came from here? You said ‘back’ to the pub earlier,” you asked, looking at him, trying to make sense of whatever you could latch on to. He half turned to look back at you.

“I could say that it was obvious, two people coming from a date, nearest pub,” he replied. “But, really, I came in while you were with him. Didn’t want you to think I was stalking you so I sat out of sight. When you left, I stayed for a minute, but something just seemed wrong.”

“You just happened to be at the same pub? That’s a hell of a coincidence.”

“Like I said, I’m a bad penny.”

“Well, I’m beyond happy you turned up when you did,” you shook your head. “Can’t quite get around you saying you’re not a stalker, then following me out of here though.”

He chuckled, digging a nail into the bar absently, his body half turning towards you. “That one I can’t excuse. I’ve gotten used to trusting my gut over the years. It told me to go, so I did.”

“Your gut? Maybe I should be thanking that instead of you.”

“Thank whatever you want. Just happy that I listened.”

You ran your hands through your hair, sighing deeply. “I cannot believe that he was such a bastard.”

“How’d you end up on a date with a boy like that?” Price asked, taking a drink off of his whiskey, hands still moving, tapping now.

A smile played on your lips as you noticed his use of boy instead of man. “Blind date. More of a favor to a friend than anything. I don’t get out much, if I’m being honest,” you replied, then blushed lightly at your admission. “Nearly didn’t come, after all that shit earlier, but I didn’t want to mope. He didn’t seem that bad… He seemed, well, nice.” You paused, taking a drink, thinking through events. “Didn’t do anything wrong. Honestly, he did everything right, by the book. I even offered him a second date. That was before he turned around and said I owed him for being nice.”

Price’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at the wall, concentrating on something you couldn’t see. You noted his knuckles go white around the glass. “You know you don’t owe anyone anything, right?” His voice was all sharp edges and sandpaper.

“Yeah. I do. Obviously, or I wouldn’t have been trying to knee the bugger in his balls.”

“Good girl,” he said for the second time that day, a slight chuckle in his tone. You liked the way it sounded from him in his gravelly voice.

“Its not like this is even the first time a mans been shit to me. Just wasn’t expecting it, I guess. Kinda like he came with references, you know?”

“I really am sorry,” he replied gruffly, shaking his head.

“Not your fault. Woulda been a lot worse without you. Maybe that cancels it out,” you tried to joke.

You downed the rest of your drink, and ordered another one.

“Can I ask a question?” You said, tracing the rim of the new glass.

“You can ask, depends on the question how I’m going to answer,” he looked at you over his glass as he took a sip.

“I mean… who are you? This day, everything that’s happened? That doesn’t happen to normal people.”

“I told you, my name’s John Price,” he said. “And it all happened to you, so either you’re abnormal or I’m normal.”

“Which isn’t really an answer to anything,” you scoffed. “OK. What about the museum? Why was that guy shooting at you?”

He set the glass down, looking squarely at you. “There’s not much I can say, so I’m going to be as honest as I can be, which, considering that I only met you today, is a big concession.”

“Okay…”

“I said I’m Army. Specifically SAS. Its my job to hunt down the bad guys. That guy, the one in the museum? He was a terrorist. Needed to be dealt with.” He looked down at the glass in front of him, almost as if he was worried how you might respond.

“And you dealt with him? Like you did with my date?”

He hummed an affirmative.

“Then that’s a good enough explanation for me. Sounds like you’re pretty damn important,” you replied, and he finally looked back up at you.

“Not as important as you, my lady,” he smirked at you, eyes crinkling.

“Oh lord, I was hoping you’d have forgotten about that part.” Your face fell into your hand. “I don’t go around shouting that, just something that slipped out.”

“How would I forget that? Don’t meet a real Lady every day,” Price replied, smiling at you again in a very disarming way.

“I’ve been made fun of it most of my life, its not as good as you’d think. That’s why I left home, made my own career,” you looked back at him. Maybe it was the drinks and the adrenaline but you were getting awful comfortable with the Captain.

“Still, alright for a game of two truths and a lie, I’d think,” he replied, raspy voice teasing.

“You may have come up with the one good thing,” you chuckled. You finished your drink, rapidly, thinking you better get out of there before you got too attached and made another poor decision that night. Though you had a feeling this one would be much more pleasant. “I think I oughta get home. My dog is probably wondering where the hell I went.”

“Would you like me to walk you home?” He asked, tilting his head, his strong gaze pinning you.

Well wasn’t that a question. He wasn’t exactly helping your conundrum. On the one hand, you really didn’t need to get escorted home by someone that was incredibly attractive when you were tipsy and confused as hell. On the other, that was the whole point, you were tipsy and confused. And that meant you probably shouldn’t be walking alone. You didn’t want to have something happen yet again. You sighed, once ,ore wondering how you ended up here.

“Yeah. That’d be nice, if you don’t mind. I don’t want you to go out of your way even more, or take up your time,” you replied!, trying to give yourself a bit of an out at the end. But of course, he was too much of a gentleman.

“Not a problem, love,” he replied, downing his drink and setting some money on the bar.

“You really don’t have to pay,” you said, reaching for your bag.

“Consider it thanks for shooting that guy earlier,” he brushed it off, laying his warm hand on your wrist to stop you.

“Oh. Right. Kinda forgot about that.” Your expression fell, thinking about the other bit of trauma that you hadn’t had time to process.

He winced, pulling his hand back. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to remind you of even more shit.”

You shrugged. “Apparently this is normal now.”

He finished paying, grabbing his leather jacket. You walked ahead of him out of the pub, and he gently guided you with his hand on your lower back.

“Lead the way,” he intoned, dropping his hand as you went into the street.

The two of you walked in relative silence. You’d exhausted a lot of the topics already, but it also didn’t feel uncomfortable. The alcohol, stress, and late time were catching up to you, and you yawned, letting out an involuntary shiver.

“Cold?” Price’s gruff voice crackled through the darkness from your side.

“Uh, a little bit. I was planning on being home in bed with the dog by now.” You didn’t have a jacket, but you were British, after all, you could carry on. “I’ll be fine, its only a little further.”

Much to your concern, he started to shrug out of his jacket.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you stopped walking, reaching your hand to lay on his forearm and stop him. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“You’re cold, I’m not, seems obvious you should take it,” he replied, looking down where your hand was rested. “I run hot, and I’m used to doing without.”

Price slid the jacket the rest off the way off of his broad shoulders. Underneath he was wearing a Henley that wasn’t tight enough to be prideful, but hugged him in all of the right places. Once again, you were reminded by the first thoughts that you’d had when you’d seen the man earlier. He was fucking beautiful.

Taking a half step towards you, he bunched the jacket in one hand. Before you had time to think about it, you found yourself bracketed by his arms as he reached around you and draped the jacket over your shoulders. It was at least a few sizes too big for you, and was still delightfully warm from him. Though you were tall, you ended up looking at the V of his Henley and the smattering of ginger-brown hair there, a few shades lighter than his head. He smelled woodsy, slightly of vanilla, and you thought you could smell a hint of cigar smoke.

As he settled the jacket around you, you found your breath was shallowing out. Your eyes slowly started to travel up his neck, following the collar and then the column of his throat. He swallowed heavily, and your gaze flicked up a little further to his strong jaw, covered in his facial hair.

Before you knew it, before you knew if you wanted it to be over, the moment was gone and he stepped back. You immediately felt colder for the loss, despite the warm jacket over you, and you had to work to even out your breathing. Just being in his presence felt so settling, and an errant thought ran through your mind that you bet he gave the best hugs. His movements, however, had been all confidence, and you didn’t know him well enough to know if he was just being a gentleman or if he felt the spark you did. But, you thought that maybe he was breathing a little heavier.

“Thank you,” you muttered, turning back to the direction you were headed, blush rising on your face.

“ ‘ course,” he quickly replied, following a step behind you.

It was a short walk after that, but suddenly every moment felt heavy with the presence of the man behind you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to get to your apartment sooner and free yourself of the overwhelming figure, or let it play out longer, enjoying the intensity and comfort that he brought. The rules of the universe, and of the streets of London robbed you of any choice though, and before long you were stopping in front of your building.

“Well, this is me,” you turned in the street to face Price, echoing your encounter earlier. Though if he tried anything like your date earlier, you’d eat your hat. “I really can’t thank you enough for tonight. I can’t decide if I appreciate you or blame you for this afternoon though,” you teased.

“Can’t argue that,” he replied, finding himself smiling back at you. “Just glad I was there for the second part to help.”

“I’ll see you around, then, I guess,” you said as you slid the jacket off and returned it to him.

“Hopefully. Have a good night, love,” he replied, taking the jacket and nodding to you.

One last smile and you turned back around to your building, quickly jamming the key in and closing the door behind you. You were breathing heavy, and you had no idea why. Stopped in the foyer, you took stock of everything that had happened. It had been a ridiculous day, and you couldn’t quite come to terms with it being over.

You were beyond thankful that Price had been there to help you. Then he hadn’t even let you pay for a drink. He made you feel so incredibly safe, and you barely knew anything about him. Being around him made you comfortable, and the two of you had such easy conversation. Beyond that, his confidence, and looks, were unbelievably attractive.

And you’d just let him walk away. You’d been so overwhelmed and frazzled by the day you’d hadn’t even got his number. It wasn’t like you were looking for anything at the moment. You were more than happy to spend time alone, and the date tonight had turned out disastrously, making you even more wary of men. But Price had been perfect. In a matter of hours, he’d taken you from your most skeptical, to at least partially restoring your faith that not all men were completely terrible.

“Fuuuuuck,” you hissed, your mind warring with yourself. On the one hand, you didn’t want to seem desperate, running after someone who had probably already left, and potentially making a fool of yourself. Asking guys for their number wasn’t typically something you did. On the other? Why the fuck not. Sure, it might go terribly. But you didn’t have any skin in the game, and it might be amazing.

“Oh, fuck it,” you said to yourself, turning on your heel, and stepping back to the door. You ripped it open, not wanting to give yourself time to lose your nerve. Right in time for you to come face to face with Price and his hand raised to the buzzer.

“Fuck!” You said for the third time now, startled and stepping back with a hand over your heart. “I was not expecting you to be right fucking there,” you blinked at him.

A grin played over his lips under his facial hair. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you, that wasn’t part of my plan.” His expression was open, kind, and his voice rumbling. He’d lit a cigar in the time that you’d been debating, and a cloud of smoke curled around his head, rising up into the night air. That was probably why he’d been fidgeting his hands earlier, no smoking in the pub.

“Well this just threw me off completely,” you laughed, the adrenaline spike lowering. You’d probably used up a years supply of the hormone today. “I was going to at least attempt to be persuasive.”

“Persuasive of what?” His hand went up, and he leaned against the doorway on his forearm, slightly crowding you but not in an unpleasant way.

“Of trying to at least get your number?” You started, figuring you might as well get to the point. “Look, I know, this probably sounds stupid, and hare-brained. And impulsive, and a whole lot of other things. But I couldn’t just settle and let you walk away after everything today. Maybe I’m having some sort of weird fucking Stockholm syndrome cause you saved me. But despite that, I liked talking to you, and I mean, look at you. You’re ridiculously hot. That part should be self explanatory.” You paused to take a breath. When his only reply was an eyebrow raise, you soldiered on.

“I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I totally understand if you think I’m crazy after this. But, at the very least, it’d make me feel better about that guy from this afternoon potentially coming back if I had a way to contact you.” You forced yourself to stop, finally. Focusing back on Price, you saw he had a slightly bemused grin on his face. Which didn’t exactly give you much to go on.

“You know, love, you could have just stopped after the first sentence. There’s a reason I was still standing on your doorstep,” he tilted his head. “I’m glad you still think I’m hot though,” he smirked. “You’re going to give me ego if you keep saying it.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands to run one through your hair, “Right. Sorry. Don’t exactly do this much. Or ever.”

“I’m a bit out of practice too,” he admitted. “For what its worth, I think you’re stunning too.”

A blush crept up your neck, and you looked up at him, seeing the light in his eyes and his handsome face. You twisted slightly, rummaging in your bag for your phone. Once you found it, you handed it to him to put a contact in.

“I’ll text you so you have my info,” you said as he handed it back.

“I’m going out of the country for a bit,” he said, regret flashing over his face. “When I’m back though, maybe we can get another drink. If you want.”

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that,” you beamed up at him.

Taking a half step forward into the doorway, he bent and you had the quickest panic attack ever, wondering if he was going to kiss you and what you were going to do in response. Instead, his hand came up, once again cupping your chin, but twisting your head slightly. His lips brushed your cheek so quickly and gently, but it felt like an electric shock. The hair on his face tickled against your face, scratching, but not enough to be painful or irritating.

Before you had time to digest what had happened, he was already pulling back. “Good night, love.”

“Good night, John,” you said softly, stepping back. He smiled at you when you said his name, liking the way that it dropped from your lips. Turning, he dragged on the cigar again and made his way down the street. You stepped back, closing the door behind you. And immediately allowed yourself to have a quick celebration, before calming down. Making your way into the kitchen, you texted John your name, then set down your phone to greet Ollie.

“Well, buddy, with any luck I just set myself up a date,” you laughed, burying your face in his fur. For his part, he just licked your face, wagging his tail, obviously picking up on your happy mood, more than happy to feed into it.

Chapter Text

The next week went by slowly. At times that was fine by you, getting lost in your work and happily spending hours researching. Sometimes though, usually when you went back down to the archives, it felt like it was just crawling by. You were far from the kind of person to pine over a man, but Price had just come into your life with such a bang that it practically gave you whiplash to go back to normal. There were rumblings of a clean up and blood in the lower levels but somehow it was written off as an injury. You guessed that it was easier to accept that than the concept of a dude being shot.

Then, there were a couple times when you thought maybe you saw someone following you. Someone who was where they shouldn’t be, or kept popping up. But you relied on the things that your dad had taught you about protecting yourself, doubling back, making sure nothing was going on. And eventually just decided you were being paranoid, and nothing was there. Sadly, women get followed all the time, maybe it was that. Or maybe it was the amount of times that your life had been in danger lately, making you see things in the shadows. That occupied your thoughts for quite a while, but you tried to shake off the feelings.

The most noteworthy thing to happen was having to talk to your friend about the failed date. She apologized, profusely. Turned out that the two of them had known each other since uni, and he’d never shown any tendencies towards violence. After she’d offered to take you out as a treat to make up for the mess she’d inadvertently caused, you’d told her about Price.

It had sounded even crazier when you’d recounted the meeting. You hadn’t mentioned about the stuff in the museum, not entirely sure how to explain shooting someone. But, as all good friends do, she’d gushed with you over how amazing Price had been, and hoped that you would get a second chance as much as you did.

When he finally called you, it was evening. You’d spent day at work, then the evening exercising Ollie, doing chores and cooking dinner. There was soft music playing, and you’d settled onto the couch, cozied up with Ollie and one of your hundreds of books. Seriously, the collection was becoming a little ridiculous, there were books all over the walls, piles on the floor in random places.

The ringing of your mobile made you jump, having just got to a particularly spicy part of the book that pulled you attention. Fumbling, you looked at the screen to see ‘John Price’ pop up. Of course he had put exactly his name in, no nonsense. No surprise he was calling rather than texting too. Though you’d have to have a conversation about how much you hated taking on the phone at some point. You shot up, earning a glare from Ollie who was displaced from the couch by your sudden movement, and shook your head, hard, to focus. Taking a deep breath, you answered the call.

“Hullo,” you said, glad your voice sounded normal. Ish.

“‘Ello, love, how are you?” He asked. You thought you might be able to hear the sound of waves in the background.

“I’m doing great, thank you for asking. Was getting a bit worried you weren’t going to call,” you admitted, then blushed to no one when you realized that might have sounded too much. It had just slipped out, and you took another calming breath.

Luckily, you heard a chuckle down the line. “Sorry, I would have called sooner. I got tied up in Spain for work.”

“Must be nice this time of year,” you joked, leaning back in the couch. Trying to calm your heartbeat.

“Weather was nice, people were so-so,” he replied, gruffly. “I’m headed back to London tonight. Look, I understand if you say no, if you’d changed your mind now you’ve had time to process the situation. But, would you like to go out sometime?” You were fairly sure that you heard more male voices in the background after that question, and then a slamming door was easy to make out.

“I would love to, John. Did you have anything in mind?”

Price mentioned a restaurant in the next neighborhood, and asked if a couple days from now worked.

“I work in the day, but I could meet you in the evening? Would that be OK?”

“It does, love. I gotta go, but I’ll see you then,” he replied. “Have a good evenin’.”

“You too. See you soon,” you smiled down at the phone as you hung up. And kept smiling for the rest of the evening.

The next day went by in a blur of work, and you spent most of the day of the date worrying about it.

Worrying about what to wear (you spent an embarrassingly long amount of time looking at the restaurant for ideas of dress codes). Worrying if the two of you would have such an easy connection when you weren’t in danger. Worrying whether going out with the guy was even a good idea. Worrying if you were worrying too much.

Eventually, after polling your close friends, you convinced yourself that it was a good idea. The likelihood of him being a creeper after saving you from one was low. If it wasn’t good conversation, at least you’d just got a dinner out of it and you could stop Price from haunting your thoughts. Realistically, you knew that it was just anxiety talking, but drowning out that voice was a hell of a lot harder in practice than theory. You’d settled on an outfit too, something casual and comfy for the vibe of the restaurant, but that made your ass look great, and gave you a whole bunch of self confidence.

Price had said that he was rusty, but you weren’t doing any better. The date the other night had been the first in a while. Sure, you liked the company of a partner, but it wasn’t a necessity in the slightest. That date hadn’t come with the pressure and stress of this one either. You didn’t have any skin in the game, so to speak. As much as you tried to convince yourself this wasn’t a big deal, you knew full well how you felt and how excited you were. If nothing else, Price was physical perfection, and everything he’d done so far had pushed all of your buttons. The strong, protective type who had a soft and caring side? Fuck. Yes.

The time passed steadily, as it does. As much as you wished to be able to control it, it continued on, until you were in front of the restaurant without much of an idea of exactly how you’d got there, the anxiety swirling around your brain taking the forefront. You stood for a moment, forcing your breathing to slow down. Focusing on the training your dad had given you years ago to stay calm in stressful situations. It was astonishing how often that translated into every day situations.

Glancing at your watch told you were right on time. Growing up around military men had taught you that if they appreciated one thing, it was punctuality. You had to give Price props for the choice of restaurant. It was a step above a pub, but with soft lighting and a cozy ambience. Maybe he brought tons of people here on first dates. Guess you’d find out soon, because you’d stepped inside and spotted him at a table in the back.

He stood as he noticed you, coming around the round table to greet you.

“Evening, darling.” His arm came out, slinking around your waist to hug you. You happily reciprocated, wrapping your hands briefly over his shoulders and around his neck. A smile crinkled his eyes at the corners as you pulled away, and you couldn’t help your smile that broke out.

“Hi, John. It’s good to see you,” you replied as you settled into the chair, pulling a menu towards you.

“Same to you,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He was wearing another henley shirt, and again your eyes couldn’t help but wander down his chest. As he reclined the fabric stretched slightly over his broad pecs and shoulders, and your eyes slid down to his waist, which was trim and probably just as sculpted as the rest of him. He’d pushed up the sleeves on his shirt slightly, exposing his thick forearms in a way that should definitely not be that attractive. “You look fantastic, by the way,” he added and your gaze immediately flicked back up to meet his. He didn’t say anything but you thought that the glint in his eyes said that he knew perfectly well that you’d been staring.

“As do you,” you smiled, and were saved from the desire to explain yourself by the waiter approaching.

He greeted you two, and you tried to surreptitiously watch Price. A lot can be gathered by a person by the way they treat staff. He was, of course, perfect. Not necessarily overly friendly, but polite and engaged. There were definitely walls up, and his no nonsense personality came through, but not in an off-putting way. The way he carried himself was fascinating, the caring, confident personality hypnotizing you. The waiter left, and Price picked the conversation back up.

“How was your day?” His eye contact was intense, but his eyes were soft, easy to trust.

“It was great, thank you. I’m working on this new exhibit in the museum, and its been amazing,” you replied, briefly detailing the work you’d been doing. “Thats what I was doing the day we met. I’d just gotten the green light, and was working on the first steps.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk so passionately about their job,” he commented, taking a sip of the drink that the waiter had dropped off. “And the work you do is so unusual. I can’t say I’ve ever been a museum person, but the way you talk about makes me tempted to become one.”

“That reaction is exactly why I love my job,” you exclaimed. “I know its massively nerdy to work in a museum but I am so lucky to have a career that I love so much.”

“Is that all you’ve ever wanted to do?”

That opened the floodgates. Price was a fantastic conversationalist and listener, asking good, thoughtful questions about your life. Before you knew it, the two of you had been talking so long that food had appeared and you were tucked into something delicious. It had taken you a moment to get off the topic of yourself and your life, with all of his questions, but you’d gotten Price to somewhat open up.

“The Army gave me a purpose. I wouldn’t say I love the job like you love yours, but the fact that I can make a difference makes up for it.”

“Not to be weird with the comparison, but my dad says that about being in the Army too. The political and bureaucratical nonsense is mitigated by the end results.”

“Can I ask what he does?” Price asked, taking a bite of the steak he’d ordered. You couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped.

“Basically the same thing you do. He’s SAS too…” you paused as a lightbulb went off in your head. “Oh god. I sound like I have fucking ridiculous daddy issues,” you buried your head in your hand, unable to stop from laughing at yourself. “Hopefully you two don’t know each other. That’d be mortifying.”

Price laughed, the first real laugh you’d heard out of him. “Don’t worry, love, that wasn’t my first thought. Though if it works in my favor I won’t be complaining.” He winked, and you blushed, suddenly full well imagining other uses for daddy issues.

The two of you quickly established that your dad and he didn’t know each other, thankfully, and conversation continued to flow through dinner and into drinks. Eventually, he offered once again to walk you home. Your answer was much easier this time.

“Yeah. I’d love that,” you grinned at him.

This time you were more prepared, and your warm coat protected you against the chill night air. Though, instead of being happy about it, you missed the warm embrace of his jacket. The easy conversation continued, moving on to talking about living in London.

“I’m only in and out of here. I don’t have much tying me down, and my work makes me travel so much its hard to want to have a place. I usually live on base.”

“Not one for relationships much, then?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, tone light, but regretting the question as soon as it slipped out.

Price looked out of the corner of his eye at you, seeing right through your question. “Its hard, love. My job… it’s difficult,” he sighed. “Theres the travel, but also the danger, and how little I can talk about it. It’s not like I have a problem with them, just not usually in the cards.”

You made a none committal noise, and for the first time the conversation lulled. There were only a couple more streets until your place, and you walked in silence for a while. You wanted to tell him that you could deal with all that. That you felt the connection, and didn’t want to give up on it that easily. Then there was a cruel undertone that wanted to demand to know why he invited you out tonight he didn’t want a relationship, was he just using you for your body?

Together, you passed over a small bridge of one of the Thames branches. At the crest, John stopped, wrapping his hand around the back of your arm to stop you and swinging you around to face him.

“I can practically hear the cogs turning in your brain,” Price half smiled down at you, his hand skating down to cup your elbow. “I know what that sounded like.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to deflect. It didn’t work.

“Yes, you do,” he said, that confidence running through his rumbling, gravelly voice. “I already told you I’m not good at this. And I can’t change who I am, what my job is. But I enjoyed tonight more than I’ve enjoyed any night in recent memory.”

You searched his bright eyes, his expression. The hand on your elbow was searing through your clothes.

“I want to do this again, get the opportunity to spend more time in your company,” Price’s other hand came up, his large hand stretching around your waist inside your coat, burning a path there. “And, if you’d let me, I’d really like to kiss you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, not expecting him to say that. The self assurance that he radiated made you assume he would have just done it, acted not asked. But you didn’t have to even think about it.

“Please,” you replied, voice coming out slightly breathless, and he grinned.

“I like the sound of that word coming from you,” he said, his already deep voice dropping and growing husky.

The hand on your elbow came up to your face, mimicking how he’d held your face the previous time. This time though, he cupped your cheek, thumb ghosting along your cheekbone. His hand guided your face up, and the one at your waist drew you in closer to him.

Head tilted, he leaned down to meet you, and your eyes closed as his lips met yours. He was the perfect combination of soft and strong. His lips were surprisingly soft and pliable, but the kiss itself was commanding, leaving you spinning. He wasn’t forceful, taking time to feel out what you responded to. The hair on his face was prickly, but not painfully so. There was no way he didn’t have a routine for his beard to stop beard burn.

Your hands came up, wrapping around his neck, one slicing into the hair on the nape of his neck, the other reaching back, down over his muscled shoulders. The breathy moan that escaped you as you deepened the kiss didn’t even sound like yourself. Leaning forward more, it felt like electricity hit as the front of your bodies melted together. Your nipples hardened against the solid mass of his chest, and heat started to pool in your core. If just a kiss could do this to you, you couldn’t imagine what more would feel like with him. His commanding attitude, the way he was taking control, wasn’t helping your errant thoughts any.

His hands were on the move as his lips continued to caress yours. The one slid into your hair, and the other down over your hip, to the small of your back. Just the tips of his last fingers started to brush over your ass but he stayed respectful as ever. Spurred on, you slid your tongue into his mouth when the opportunity presented itself, and he moaned softly. The sound was pure sin, deep and heady, and you desperately wanted to hear more of it. Slowly, gently, the two of you ramped down, your hands running down his chest to rest on his pecs, and his hands meeting around your waist.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, a chuckle present and your voice still an octave too low.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he replied, and you could feel a smile on his face when he rested his cheek on your forehead.

“Either you’ve got a gift from god or you weren’t lying about liking spending time with me,” you teased.

“I’m obviously not doing my job properly if you need reassurance and convincing that I like spending time with you,” he replied, leaning back to look down at you sternly. “Yes, that was bloody phenomenal, but I wouldn’t want you to question my intent. You intrigue me, I want to know you for you, not for that.”

“I’m not questioning you, I’m sorry. I’ve had an incredible night. Thats just the cherry on top,” you assured him, insides warm and fuzzy at his words.

Price’s hand slipped down to cup your hand, and you leaned on him, resting your other hand on his forearm as the two of you turned back and finished the walk to your place.

“I’m in town for the next couple weeks,” Price said as you stood on your doorstep. “If you’d like to do something again.” The uncertainty on his face was beyond unwarranted, but it looked adorable.

“I think you know what my response to that is going to be,” you grinned at him. On the short walk back you’d debated if you wanted to invite him in, but, as much as there was a red hot connection, you had walls up that weren’t quite ready to come down. Ever the gentleman, Price didn’t push you.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, then,” he replied, leaning down once again to give you another blistering kiss that had you weak at the knees and weak in your resolve. It was short lived though, and he kissed you on the forehead as he said “Have a good night, love.”

“You too, John,” you breathed, slowly closing the door after him. Not before you’d gotten a great look at his butt.

Locking the door, you leaned against it, forehead resting on the cool wood. “I am so unbelievably fucked,” you said to Ollie who’d appeared at your feet. You couldn’t just dismiss it as the anxiety talking now. You were well on your way to falling for the handsome Captain and his alluring personality. After only one date. One rescue. And one terror attack.

“What the fuck,” you softly laughed to yourself. Yep. Totally screwed.

Chapter Text

  A few days later you found yourself walking home from eating lunch. The last days had been perfect. Price had apparently managed to figure out texting and had texted to wish you good morning, little snippets throughout the day, and to tell you good night each day. You did wonder slightly when the man slept, because he always seemed to be up before you and go to bed after. 

  Having grown up with your dad being in the Army, you knew how these kinds of men were though. They worked themselves to the bone, never wanting to stop until something forced them to do so. You were just grateful that old age had caught up to your dad and he’d finally retired at 60. If he had any say in it though you knew he’d still be running around with guys half his age. 

  Your walk back to work was pleasant, the sun was shining for once in London even if it was cold, the fall weather heavy in the air. Thoughts distracted with work, it took you longer than you’d like to admit to notice something was off. 

  It wasn’t obvious. But every now and again you started to notice the same person. When you’d cross a street you’d catch him out of the corner of your eye. Make a corner, and he’d be following a couple streets behind. Millions of people frequented London, so there was a chance of course that it was coincidence. And there was a chance that it wasn’t. 

  Now your attention had been peeked, you started focusing more closely. Making turns that weren’t necessary, trying to pause in inconspicuous places that would allow you to observe. One time stopping to fuck with your clothes whilst you had a good eye-line. Yeah, someone was definitely following you. 

  You didn’t think that you knew them, but it was hard to tell without outright staring. First thought, because of the world we live in and the danger to women, was that he was stalking you to attack you. Of course, there was no way to be sure, but you wrote that voice off. The man was way too competent, staying a perfect distance away, not pulling any attention to himself. The only reason you’d noticed him was because your dad, thank the stars, had trained you to damn near be an operative yourself. You’d always thought he was being over protective, and as a kid you hated his little ‘training sessions’. As an adult? You thanked him every chance you got. 

  Which was why your first action, now that your fears had been confirmed, was to call him. 

  “Hello, darling, how’s my favorite daughter?” His thick, upper class accent filtered through your phone, and despite the present danger your eyes rolled involuntarily. You were his only daughter. Of course you were his favorite. “Not keeping too busy? I’m going to be in London soon, we should have supper together,” he continued on. For a guy who made his career being stealthy, he certainly could talk. You always wondered if he was making up for years of having to be quiet. 

  “Dad.” You said half way through his speech. “DAD!” You added, more emphatically when he didn’t stop. “Phosphorous.” The code word that the two of you had come up with. You couldn’t remember who had picked the word anymore, it had been so long, but it meant to shut up and put a game face on because something is happening. 

  “Copy, go ahead,” he said, tone completely changing. Here was the military man who spent his life taking down bad guys. 

  “I’m being followed.” Immediately you ran through a description, location and a brief summary, knowing that he’d want info. You could tell from the change in the sound that he had put you on speaker and you could hear tapping. 

  “Got it. Keep moving. I’m working on something.” 

  Movement had been the plan anyway, you didn’t want to stop until you had a reason to. You’d been circuitously making your way back to work. Heading straight there had been tempting, but on the off chance this was just a rando, you didn’t want them knowing where you worked and just waiting for you. So, you kept to the busiest streets, slowly getting closer just in case you needed to make a break for a safe space if the danger increased. The nice thing about working at a museum with millions of pounds of art contained inside was there was a world class security system and team. 

  “Ok. I have a friend nearby. He’s only about 5 minutes out, staying at a hotel in the area.” Your dad’s voice was clipped, making his accent even stronger. He rattled off a location, next to a coffee shop nearby. “Told him to make it look like a date or friends meeting up. He’s SAS too, so he’ll know the drill.” 

  “One of your friends from back in the day?” you asked as you started to map out a route in your head. 

  “More of a recent acquaintance, I trust him completely though.” 

  Your eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as you took a corner. “Thought you were out of the game?”

  “I am,” he brushed you off. “Am I not allowed to meet people?” His voice had started to soften, more teasing and calm, presumably trying to keep you relaxed. 

  “I just find it interesting how you happen to meet more people who are doing the same job that you’ve supposedly retired from. This an old timer?” Maybe another retiree that he’d bonded with. That’d be kind of sweet.

  “He’s closer to your age, actually. Maybe I just want to feel young?” Your eyes narrowed again.

  “Like you need any help doing that. How’s the running training going?”

  “Boring as ever,” he laments. “Always was my least favorite thing.”

  “You’re the one who signed up for a triathlon. Most people your age would stave off boredom with a crossword or something.” Glancing backwards as you crossed a street, you added, “Still got my tail.” 

  “Passed the info on to my friend, he’s almost there.”

  Two more streets and the coffee shop came into view. You didn’t see anyone obviously waiting for you, but that didn’t mean anything. You said as much.

  “He’s almost there. Should be one street over. I’m not close right now, do you have someone to call or should I tell him to stay with you at your house. Or you should come to stay with me for a bit.” Your dad had moved onto next steps. Ever the planner. 

  Immediately, your thoughts went to Price. He probably would have been the better person to call, in hindsight, with him being in town. But at the end of the day, you barely knew him. Your dad, on the other hand, had proven himself time and time again, even if he wasn’t here. 

  “I can call someone. I’ve been, uh, sort of seeing him. He’s SAS like you.”

  “Name?” You could have guessed that was coming. 

  “Captain John Price,” you sighed, knowing that admission meant that your dad was probably already running a background check. Silently, you apologized to Price in advance, just hoping your dad didn’t go too far. 

  Only a block to go until the coffee shop, and your dad’s voice came back over the phone just as you saw someone stop in front and start looking your direction. 

  “He just got there.”

  “I think I see him, I’ll stay on the phone though.” 

  The man raised his hand in a wave, a grin breaking out on his handsome face. Your first impression was that he looked shockingly like Lewis Hamilton, the legendary Formula One driver. Just less tattoos and hair. 

  “Hi!,” he said as you got close, and he wrapped you in a hug, “names Kyle, but everyone calls me Gaz,” he whispered in your ear. “Think I see our guy.” 

  “Hi, Gaz. How’s it going?” You replied, smiling at him. His easy demeanor was infectious, and you linked your hand through his offered arm. The guy even sounded like Hamilton. 

  “Better, now I’ve got you. Had a tense few minutes there,” he replied, steering you away. 

  “You’re telling me,” you muttered, lifting the phone back to your ear. “Met your friend, I’ll text you when I’m home, Dad.” 

  “Please do,” he said sincerely. “I’ll get working on who might be following you. I love you.” 

  “Love you too,” you replied, not wanting to know what he meant by figuring out who was behind you, or how the hell he’d figure that out. Hanging up, you turned back to Gaz.

  “Thank you for doing this. I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything too important.” You squeezed his bicep in thanks, noting the lean muscle there. It was nice to have a warm body next to you, you thought idly. 

  “Nah, you saved me from having to buy a round of drinks if I’m being honest. One of my mates is Scottish and you wouldn’t believe the amount he can put back,” Gaz joked, letting you take the lead on directing him back to your apartment. 

  “Oh god, my flatmate at Uni was Scottish. I still don’t know how I didn’t get alcohol poisoning.” You tapped out a quick message to your supervisor at work, letting her know you wouldn’t be back from lunch and you’d call her later. You could work from home, but you at least owed her an explanation for the change of plans. 

  “Any idea who your friend back there is?” Gaz asked. 

  “Not a clue. But I seem to be danger prone lately. Had a guy shoot at me at work, then a date try and attack me. Now this. All within a couple weeks. I’m sure its nothing to guys like you but I’m not much of a fan of this development.” 

  “Can’t say I blame you,” he chuckled slightly. “Its my line of work but even I wouldn’t want to have to worry about this kind of shit whilst I was at home.” 

  “How d’ya know my dad?” You asked, unable to contain the curiosity and a little worry that he was back working.

  “We met at a kinda office party not too long ago. Had a bunch of old timers and people still in,” he breezed through the answer a little too easily, and then changed the subject which made you more suspicious. “When we get you home I’ll double back to try and catch that guy, then stay with you until your friend arrives, yeah?”

  “Yeah, of course,” you replied, pulling out your phone again to text Price. Probably should have done that earlier, before you told Gaz he could leave. Not that you really wanted him to stay with you anyway. Seemed like overkill, and you hated the idea of inconveniencing him even more. He seemed like a really sweet guy. 

  First off, no need to worry, I have everything handled, your fingers keyed into your texts. But, long story short, I had someone following me. I’m almost home, was wondering if you could meet me there? It’d make me feel better. 

  You hit send on the message, then added Seriously. Don’t worry. I’m safe, just don’t want to be home alone. You knew he’d probably still worry, but you tried.

  The speed with which Price got back to you must have been a record for him for texting. Be there in 10. Somehow you weren’t surprised that he’d filed away your address and didn’t need to ask. 

  “My friend will be at my place in 10 minutes, its just a couple streets away,” you glanced up at Gaz, and he looked back at you with his soft brown eyes. 

  “Works for me. Honestly its kind of nice having a stroll in the chill. Just wish there wasn’t a hole being drilled in my back by this guy watching us.” 

  “I’d get rid of him if I could,” you smiled, and shrugged. “Wasn’t really on my schedule either. Right here,” you pointed to your house. 

  “Right. You go on ahead, I’m going to duck away. Lock the door behind you,” Gaz told you. He gave your hand a squeeze, then peeled it off his arm, turning into the alley next to you.

  You immediately missed his solid presence next to you, but you hurried on, getting in your house quickly and locking the doors. Marching around the house, a concerned Ollie followed you as you checked all the doors and windows were locked, then headed up to the second floor where you grabbed the shotgun from your side of the bed. Officially, the thing was for hunting, that’s how you had a gun in a country that didn’t allow them. But it had come in handy a time or two as a woman living alone. 

  Sliding down the wall next to the bedroom door, you rested the gun on your knees, and your hands on the gun. If someone came in, you’d see them before they saw you because of your position, and hopefully you could get off a good shot. When you patted the ground next to you, away from the door, Ollie curled up by your side. He was a trained hunting dog, and knew when he saw the gun that there was business to do. Just usually wasn’t this kind. 

  Sitting in silence, you strained your ears for any noise. Sitting still wasn’t your favorite activity on a good day, but this was torturous, not knowing what was going on outside or what you should expect. It felt like your heart was trying to escape your chest, and the drumming was almost all you could hear. Trying to distract yourself, you used some breathing exercises your dad had taught you. They were supposed to be for snipers, to calm the heart and breathing, but worked wonders as anti anxiety too. Slowly, you started to be able to hear yourself think over your blood rushing, and clam down. 

  Which, of course, was when the doorbell rang and your phone beeped, simultaneously, shattering the quiet. All of the work that you had done to calm down flew out of the window. Your heart rate picked up again, but you forced your breathing to stay level. Looking at your phone first helped calm you down when you saw the text from Price that just said Here. Jumping to your feet, you kept the gun in one hand, not quite able to let it go, and approached the door. The figure behind the glass was facing the street, but after running your hands all over the man’s torso just days prior, it was easy to tell that it was Price. 

  He half turned towards you when he heard the click of the lock. You kept the gun off to the side, hidden from the street as you greeted him. 

  “See anything interesting out there?” You asked, flinching at yourself for the automatic reaction to use humor to deflect. 

  “Nothing yet, unfortunately,” Price replied, turning to you fully and giving you a tight lipped smile.

  “You’d rather see something?”

  “At least then I’d have an idea of what we’re up against,” he shrugged, and you stepped aside to let him in. To his credit, all he did when he saw the gun was raise an eyebrow and give you an approving look. 

  “Better safe than sorry,” you replied, and skirted around him to lead him into the kitchen. 

  “Don’t worry, I fully approve and agree,” he said from behind you. 

  Despite the current situation, he couldn’t help but admire how calm you were considering all the crap that had been thrown at you lately. As for you, you were calm about being followed but internally couldn’t help but ping on the fact that he was seeing your house for the first time. To give yourself some credit it was probably a lot safer to not freak out about the former, but maybe less mentally healthy that you were more worried about if you’d done the dishes recently. 

  Ollie, being the amazing dog that he was, provided the perfect distraction, immediately making a beeline for John, wagging his tail so hard that his butt was wiggling. Price, it turned out, was absolutely a dog man. Your chest felt full as the man who could, and probably had, killed a man with his bare hands knelt, his voice going soft and sweet as he greeted the dog. 

  “This is Ollie,” you informed him, speaking around a smile that was begging to be let out. 

  The events of the last hour almost seemed otherworldly when faced with Price in your kitchen, loving up on your dog. Ollie was being a massive ham, and you rolled your eyes as he flopped on the floor and presented Price with his belly for scratches. 

  “You might be able to tell, but he kind of likes people…” you smirked. 

  “Never would have guess,” Price replied, looking up at you as he stood. Something that wasn’t your heart fluttered at the proximity of him on his knees to your body. 

  As he rose, eyes still locked on you, the corners of his mouth twisted up into a half smile. 

  “I wish it was under better circumstances, but its good to see you,” he said, his voice low and rumbling. He stepped towards you, closing the distance, and reached out a hand to your waist, tugging you in. 

  “Definitely is,” you replied, tilting your head back to look at him. His other arm came around your shoulder and enveloped you in a warm hug. And good god could that man hug. It felt like being in a warm, weighted blanket, so cozy and safe. Like he was completely surrounding you, and you were in an impenetrable fortress, despite most of you still being exposed. 

  Your head turned, the side of it resting on one of his pecs, and you breathed him in. He smelled just as good as before, and your arms came around his honestly unfairly small waist, giving him a squeeze. You could have sworn you felt him shudder, just slightly. His thumbs were running a track, back and forth over your waist and shoulder, and you were wondering just where this was going when the doorbell rang again. 

  Price stiffened, his protective instincts involuntarily pulling you towards him before he came to his senses and stepped in front of you. 

  “Mind if I borrow that?” He asked, nodding at the shotgun. 

  “Of course,” you breathed, deferring to the guy with the experience. “Its probably just my escort but I’m not sure.” 

  “Your escort?”

  “I’ll explain later,” you dismissed, following him down the hallway. You hung back a little as he went to open the door. There was a shape outside, but you couldn’t tell for sure if it was Gaz. 

  One hand on the gun, the other on the handle, he cracked the door open. You’d never seen a more obvious double take in your life. Your eyebrows drew together in confusion as Price ripped the door open. 

  “Gaz? What the fuck?”

  “Captain?” 

  The expressions on both of their faces would be comical if you weren’t so confused what was happening. The next step for both of them was apparently to look to you, and you shook your head. 

  “I’m as confused as you two are. Gaz, why don’t you come in, we can get this all figured out.” 

  Price must have agreed because he stepped to the side, locking the door after Gaz and the two men followed you into the kitchen. After a moment where Ollie lost his mind at not one but two new friends in five minutes, the three of you crowded around the island. 

  “I think we have the easier explanation. We work together. Same task force, have been for a while,” Price started. “Been most of the way around the world together.” His tone was almost proud, and your eyes flicked between the two of them. 

  “Right,” you replied. That made a lot more sense. “Well… mine might be a bit more convoluted.” You started by explaining your day to Price, which drew a few concerned looks. 

  “We’re going to have to circle back to some of those points. And Gaz, this is my girlfriend. But more to the point, have you noticed anyone else following you? Is this the first time?”

  You and Gaz had matching looks of surprise at the word girlfriend. Not that you were complaining, you just hadn’t expected the word to come out of his mouth. A part of you had pegged him more for a ‘partner’ kind of guy, and how easily he’d said it had been disarming. But you loved the sound of it. 

  Glancing at Gaz you could practically see the wheels turning and you had to suppress a smile. 

  “This is the first time I’ve noticed something and been sure about it. I felt like there were a couple times before but chalked it up to being paranoid. It wouldn’t be the first weird encounter I’ve had with a guy,” you looked pointedly at Price, “so if anything I just assumed it was some creep.” 

  “Can you describe the guy?” 

  Between you and Gaz you gave a surprisingly detailed description. 

  “I didn’t find any sign of anyone, Captain,” Gaz added. “I retraced our steps and went around the block a couple times.” 

  “My dad said he’s going to look into it. See if he can figure out who it might be,” you added.

  “Sorry, love, for this question,” Price grimaced at you, and turned to Gaz. “He can be trusted?”

  “I’d trust him as much as I’d trust you,” Gaz nodded, which just set even more alarm bells off in your head. 

  “Right. Well, I think we can manage here for now,” Price said to Gaz. “Can’t thank you enough for keeping her safe.” He clapped him on the shoulder. 

  “Even more willing to do it now I know who she is. Soap is probably wondering where the hell I got to though,” he said, turning to you. 

  “Soap?”

  “Another guy we work with. Get my number off of the Cap here, feel free to call me if you need help again. Have a good evening you two,” he said to you, an easy grin gracing his face. 

  “You too. Thanks again,” you replied and watched Price escort him out. You could hear the two of them pause at the front door but you didn’t try to eavesdrop. If it was something important they’d tell you. Considering how little you knew either of them, you were amazed how much you already trusted them both. Apparently you were also quickly collecting a whole bunch of scary men to help you, which wasn’t unwelcome. 

  You were sending a text to your dad and supervisor, and jumped when Price started talking as he walked into the kitchen.

  “You really do seem to attract danger,” he smiled softly at you, coming around the island to pull you into another hug. The touchy side of him was new, but you melted into his embrace happily. You supposed that he didn’t get a whole lot of physical contact in his job, and if his love language was touch you weren’t about to start complaining. The guy just seemed to want to have someone to protect and spoil, and considering how life had been lately, you were more than happy to oblige. 

  Gently, you pulled back from him, just enough so you could look up at him but not enough to break his hold. 

  “Do you mind staying? I can order or cook some food or something.” You had a damn good idea of what the response would be, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from making you trail off at the end of your sentence. 

  A full smile broke out on his face, and he leaned forward. It caught you a little off guard when his lips met yours, but you got on board instantaneously. The kiss was slow, almost languorous, which did absolutely nothing to stop the fire skittering across your skin from the contact with him. His soft mouth played with your lips, and you couldn’t help but sigh into him. It was over almost as soon as it had begun though, much to your chagrin. His smiling face filled your vision as you looked up. 

  “Get to spend more time with your gorgeous self, and make sure you’re safe? Don’t know how that’s even a question, love.”

Chapter Text

“I moved out as soon as possible. I didn’t dislike living with my parents, but I needed to get away from the expectations,” you continued the conversation that you and Price were having. The two of you had ordered takeout, and were on the sofa enjoying it, with a movie playing softly in the background. The conversation had moved on to Ollie, who was giving his best puppy dog eyes from the rug, in hopes of getting food. “But, of course, I went straight to uni, and had roommates. So I’d never been alone. When I finally got my own space, in my last term, I just felt lonely. I love being on my own, but the silence was crushing. So, I decided to get him after I graduated and was settled here. Plus, even though he wouldn’t hurt a fly, it gives me a piece of mind not being a single woman by myself.” 

“Give you time to go get a gun?” Price teased, his eyes crinkling. This domestic version of him was captivating. He was sweet, and kind, and thoughtful. Anything you wanted, he’d already thought of before you did, searching for, ordering and paying for food, or refilling your glass, even taking Ollie out to the back garden. It was your house, but he commanded the space in a way that somehow felt comforting. He wasn’t being intrusive, or like a lot of men who came across as domineering, wanting to assert themselves in your life. Instead, his confident presence just filled a gap you hadn’t even realized was there, without interrupting your own flow. 

“Exactly,” you grinned. You were shocked how easy and comfortable you felt having him there. Usually you’d hate having someone in your bubble, preferring your own company. 

“I’ve always been a dog guy myself,” Price replied. “Always wanted one. Just never been able to with being gone as much as I am.” His voice had gone a little gruff at the end, and you felt for him. 

“I can imagine. Its got to be hard to have any sense of normalcy.”

“Never used to bother me,” he said, and you were surprised at the vulnerability he was showing. “But, getting older nowadays. Don’t want to miss out on anything.”

“And you feel like you are?” You asked, setting your plate on the coffee table and tucking your feet under you as you leaned back into the couch.

“Not yet, but don’t want to get to that point,” he shrugged. “Or have to give up the Army. Don’t feel like that chapter is closed just yet either.” Back to being the gentleman, he reached over and tidied up your plate, before he stood. 

“Woah, you don’t have to do that,” you jumped up to grab the stuff. Seriously, you liked him being so sweet, but this was above and beyond and you didn’t want him to feel like he was obligated. And you kind of felt awkward letting him do everything. 

“Sit,” he said gently, his free hand going to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Something about the way he said it was embarrassingly attractive, dominant without being pushy and rude. “You’ve had a hell of a week, let me take care of you.” 

You sat so fast, you were pretty sure your legs just collapsed, the low, warm timbre of his voice sending shivers across your skin. Maybe it had been too long since you had a guy around cause you were immediately imagining other ways he could take care of you. 

His thumb quickly grazed your jawline as you sat, then he went about tidying up dinner. You took the time to check your phone, to see that your dad had texted you. 

I have a couple leads. Can you stay home for a couple days? Just to be on the safe side.  

Alarm bells immediately went off in your head. What the fuck did that mean? Both how the hell did he know something already, and what was going on that was so serious you couldn’t leave home. 

Sure, I can work from home. But what the fuck is going on? Not really time to mince words. 

Can I call you in the AM when I have something more concrete?

…. Sure… 

Love u 

Love you too, dad.

You stared at the phone in your hand. That conversation left way too much to the imagination for your liking. You trusted your dad explicitly, and could work from home, so you had no problems with his request, but it just raised questions. How your life had gone so sideways, so quickly, was seriously a mystery. 

Without even realizing it, you’d wandered into the kitchen, staring at your phone lost in thought. 

“Everything OK, love?” Price’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see him drying his hands off on your kitchen towel. 

“Uh… kind of. No, not really. My dad just texted me about earlier,” you replied, walking over from your spot in the door to show him your phone. 

As you handed it to him his hand snaked out, circling around your waist and tugging you into his side. You took the comfort, leaning into his reassuring warmth, resting your head on him. It only took him a couple seconds to read, and his eyebrows furrowed together. 

“Thats concerning.”

“You’re telling me,” you huffed. 

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean it like that.” His hand rubbed up and down over your side as he looked down at you. He kissed the top of your head, half speaking into your hair. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you it’s all alright, but it will be. Focus on the fact that he has a start on something, thats a positive.” 

You sighed. “I get that, doesn’t make it right though.” 

“No, I don’t think anything other than answers will. Can you stay in for a bit? It probably is for the best.” 

“Yeah, I can work from here. Just not what I would have planned on. Feels a lot more serious.” 

“You being followed was already serious, love. At least this way you can get some closure instead of just wondering.” 

“I know. You’re right,” you replied, tucking your head further into him. 

“Happens occasionally,” he teased, lightening the mood and giving you a gentle squeeze. “You want me out of your hair? You’ve obviously had a hell of a day.”  He stepped back slightly so he could look you in the eyes. 

You honestly felt like you’d been hit by a train. The day, hell, the week was catching up to you, and this lovely, chill evening had relaxed you to a point where all you wanted to do was get in bed. But, you didn’t want him to leave and be left on your own. 

“This is going to come across incredibly forward,” you laughed lightly, looking down, making eye contact with his pecs, and immediately looking back up when you blushed. How was someone so perfectly sculpted? “But can you stay the night? I just don’t want to be by myself. I was ok until that text, now… well, I don’t know. I don’t really know how I feel, but I’m not comfortable, thats for sure.”

“Of course I can, I understand. Its not forward, I can sleep on the couch,” he replied, giving you a comforting look and squeezing you gently. 

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. We’re both adults, you can sleep in the bed. It’ll make me feel better having you close.” 

Your practical side came out, blurting that out before your brain had a chance to think about the implications. The flat was only a one bedroom, so if he was getting a bed, it’d be yours. Obviously, you didn’t want him sleeping on the couch when he was already doing you a favor. And your comment about being adults and having him close was absolutely supposed to be about keeping your hands off of each other and keeping safe. But as soon as you said it you heard the insinuation of other adult activities that would keep you even closer. 

A flaming blush came to your face, and you stammered out, “I - uh - shit I didn’t mean…”

Price just chuckled, grinning. “As much as I’d love to know wherever your mind just went, don’t worry. I know what you mean. If it’ll make you more comfortable of course I’ll come with you. I can always sleep on the floor. Won’t be the first, or probably last time.”

“Absolutely not, thats not fair. You’re helping me, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

Price leaned down, placing a very chaste kiss on your lips, sending sparks down your body. “Lets go to bed then, love.” 

You headed upstairs, and Price offered to let Ollie out one last time. The space was appreciated, giving you time to panic clean your bedroom. As satisfied as you could be, you darted into the bathroom with a t-shirt and a set of PJ shorts. It felt like you were on autopilot as you ran through skincare and brushing your teeth, you spent most of the time staring at yourself in the mirror trying to calm your heartbeat. 

After a couple minutes you heard the bedroom door click shut. You slowly pulled on your PJs, and took a second to literally shake the nerves out. Seriously, there was no reason to be so anxious. Just an absolutely gorgeous person on the other side of the wall, sliding into your bed… Nope, stay on track. You allowed yourself a deep, calming breath, then opened the door. 

Price was half way through taking his shirt off and you were greeted by the best chest you’d ever seen in your life. He was covered in muscle, but somehow still thick in all the right places. A dad bod but if that dad worked out 6 days a week, which you supposed he kind of did. In a way. Just not typical workouts. His chest was covered in a smattering of hair, enough to give off a grizzly look, but not too much. Your gaze wandered up over his abs and rounded pecs, to his massive shoulders, and you could feel your eyes widening. The shirt finished coming off and you looked down with a jerk, so he wouldn’t catch you staring. 

“Bathrooms in there,” you said, jerking your hand to your side, and clearing your throat when your voice came out indecently breathless. What the fuck was this man doing to you? “Theres an extra toothbrush and soaps and stuff on the counter.” 

“Thanks, love,” Price said, rounding the bed to your side and brushing his lips over your shoulder as he passed. Fucking hell, you weren’t going to survive the night. 

The bathroom door closed behind him, and you tucked yourself under the covers. There was no reasonable explanation to why this man was effecting you the way he was, yet here you were, heart racing, practically sweating just being in his presence. No other man had made you lose all sense of decorum like this, and it was all you could do to not say fuck it and tear his clothes off. It was hard to tell if he felt the same way, but your gut feeling was telling you that he did, and he was just trying to be polite given the situation. Which was backfiring, because the level of respect he had just made him even hotter. 

The door opened again as you were checking your phone. No updates, but just seeing the texts from earlier made you glad that Price was staying. He pulled the covers back, and started to get into bed before you glanced up and frowned at him. 

“You don’t have to sleep in your jeans… Not that I’m trying to get into your pants, but that can’t be comfortable.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked, pausing half way into bed. 

“I can control myself,” you teased, and leaned over to plug your phone in. You resisted the urge to turn and look as you heard the clink of his belt and the pull of his zipper. The sight of him in just boxers might push you over the edge. 

You leaned past the edge of the bed, clicking off the lamp on your side. Darkness settled over the two of you, and you rolled onto your side, facing Price, as your night vision came into play. A few silent moments passed as you tried to not stare at his profile. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, and he rolled over to look back at you. 

“For what?” his voice was quiet, rumbling through the still night. 

“For staying, for helping me, for not running away at the insanity that my life has become all of a sudden. I think this would have scared a lot of guys off.” 

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he assured you. “I couldn’t imagine leaving you to deal with this on your own. And I don’t think I’m most guys.” 

“You certainly aren’t,” you whispered. “Goodnight, John.” Now you were horizontal, everything was catching up to you and you were practically asleep already.

“Night, love.” 

———

The first thing you noticed as you woke up was heat. Just all encompassing warmth. Had you fallen asleep with your heating pad on again? It wouldn’t be the first time with how chilly British nights got some days. 

Then you realized the warmth was moving. Rhythmically up and down under your cheek. Like breathing… 

That thought woke you up the rest of the way instantly. You felt your breath hitch as the events of yesterday flooded back, and you realized beyond a shadow of a doubt you were pressed up against the chest of Captain John Price. Your cheek was on his chest, head tucked into his shoulder. A leg was thrown over his quads, hips rolled over towards him to be able to stretch over his muscular legs. His arm was around you, snaked under you and his hand curled around your waist.

He must have felt your movement, as his arm tightened around you slightly, and his other hand came to your forearm where it rested on his abdomen. 

“Morning, love,” Price’s voice rumbled from above you, the sleepiness making his voice even deeper and raspier. 

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries,” you said, starting to pull away, panicking that you might have gone too far.

“It’s early, and you’re probably still waking up, so I get you’re probably not firing on all cylinders. But, really, does it seem like I’m upset about this?” he replied, pulling you tightly back into him. “Stop stressing, girl. Not like you even did anything intentionally, you were asleep,” he grumbled.  

Price’s thumb traced over your arm, and you relaxed into him, wiggling to get more comfortable. When your mind stopped racing, and you settled in, you started to appreciate just how nice this situation was. If you had to guess, it was still pretty early, the sunlight was still watery as it filtered through the window. There wasn’t much noise outside, so definitely before rush hour. 

The loudest noise was Price’s breathing, and you focused on that, eyes drifting shut. His warmth surrounded you, and it was easy to forget everything else that was going on when he was this close. Probably fifteen minutes passed in comfortable silence, before your bladder started to complain. 

Gently, you slipped out from Price’s arms. He tried the same thing again, tightening around you, before you reassured him you’d be right back. It still felt reluctant as he let you go though, and you immediately regretted the loss of his warmth. 

After taking care of business and giving yourself a quick face wash and tooth brushing for good measure, you slid back under the cover. 

“Come here, love,” Price murmured, looking like he was half asleep still. 

You’d been absolutely about to cuddle up to him again, but a smile flitted across your face at how eager he was to get you back into his arms. 

The guy must have an internal heater that was cracked up to 100, the heat he radiated was insane. But you weren’t complaining as you settled back into where you had been. His hands came back around you, and one of yours settled on his opposite hip. After showing so much self restraint, you weren’t at all surprised when, almost of their own volition, your fingers started tracing up and down his hip and waist line, back and forth over the waistband of his boxers briefs. Your forearm was carefully placed over his lower abs, feeling like a searing band of heat as your hand made small movements. 

Price’s hand tightened and loosened momentarily as he felt what you were doing, and his abs flexed under you involuntarily. 

His hand that was under you started to run up and down your arm, fingers dipping under your t-shirt sleeve to your shoulder, and you got braver. Tilting your hips over, there was a delicious pressure between your legs from his hip as your leg flexed, pulling yourself into his side tighter. You were half way on top of him if you were being completely honest, but you really couldn’t find it in your heart to care. 

Your hand had started to wander further, as you were caught up in the moment. It only stopped when Price’s hand jerked out, stopping your movement. You hadn’t realized that you’d drifted down far enough to be about to get a handful of something else, and you tensed up. 

“Watch were you’re going there, love. You are too gorgeous and I am far too into you for you to be doing that,” he warned softly. “I’m trying my damndest not to rush things.”

“What if I want to keep going,” you breathed, running your hand up and over his chest. In response, his moved down, settling on your hip and squeezed, encouraging you to roll your hips against him. Heat pooled between your thighs from the friction. 

His free hand came to your face, tilting your chin up to look you in the eyes. 

“Seriously, now. I don’t take this lightly,” he said, and you felt it vibrate in his chest. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Your gaze flicked between his blue eyes, the care he was taking of you making you only more into him. You nodded slightly. “Absolutely sure.” 

Price’s hand gripped the flesh of your hip, just tight enough to be painful but not in a bad way, and the other hand fisted in your hair at the base of your neck. “Thank fuck. God you’re beautiful,” he murmured, and maneuvered you so he could plant a kiss on your lips. His mouth moved against you skillfully, pulling a low moan out of you almost immediately. Seeing an opportunity, his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing against yours. 

Both of your hands had started to rove over each others skin. Yours went up and down, trying to trace the lines of all his thick muscles, first over his shoulders, down his arms, and then his chest, down to his abs. His skin was surprisingly soft, barring the scars that littered his body. Some of them were larger than others, and you made a mental note to spend a day in bed asking him about each individual one. Most were small though, and there were so many that it was easier to describe where they weren’t than where they were. It pulled on your heart strings, seeing this physical depiction of the hard life that John had led. 

That thought ran right out of your head though as his large hand grabbed at your ass, pulling you even closer into him. Your clit rubbed against the fabric of your shorts, drawing a gasp from you. John groaned into your mouth, kneading the handful of your ass that he had. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back. The pressure was pleasant rather than painful, and you opened your eyes to the glazed over expression on John’s face as a reward. 

His eyes sharpened momentarily as he looked back at you, unable to stop a slight grin coming over him as he took in how much you’d already fallen apart. John Price wasn’t a man who boasted or bragged on his skill with women, or who sought out a plethora of women to be intimate with. But god, the sight of you coming apart under his hands made him want to shout from the rooftops. 

“You know about the traffic light system?” he growled, making sure your eyes refocused on him for the serious topic of consent.

“Yes,” you breathed, brain snapping back into the moment at his question. 

“Give me a colour, gorgeous.” His hand left your hair, moving down to where the hem of your shirt met your shorts. His fingers just slightly dipped into your shirt, stopping until you replied. 

“Green. Absolutely green.”

He groaned again, flexing and rolling onto his side, hand skating up your bare skin. 

“Keep telling me colours, OK, sweetheart?”

“OK,” you responded, not able to think of a better response. His hands were lightly calloused, but you were surprised to find that the scrape of them on your skin just added another level of texture and pleasure to his movements. The hand came around to your back, supporting you as his body glued itself to yours. His lips found your neck, pressing deep kisses into the sensitive parts of your skin. Eyes closed, you moaned lowly as his tongue traced from your neck up to your ear, and you gasped as he gently bit down on your lobe. 

Meanwhile, your hand had made its way down his back, and your fingers slid into the waistband of his shorts. Your hand flexed, gripping at his hip, and your leg came up and over, securing it over his legs. He was back to kissing you, taking command and teasing you, alternating between light and gentle and deep, making your head spin. 

After one such deeper kiss, you stretched like a cat under his hands, pressing yourself into him right as he also flexed. It lined the two of you up perfectly, and you felt his hard cock rub against you, causing the both of you to groan. It was hard to tell exactly, but fuck he was big. Not pornstar level, but bigger than average, and thick. Your core clenched around nothing as you imagined what he’d feel like inside you. His leg moved, and his thick thigh came to rest between your legs, right where he was providing perfect friction on your core. 

He flexed, and your head tilted backwards in pleasure. Seizing the opportunity, he latched back onto your neck, with kisses and gentle scrapes of your teeth. His other hand moved further into your shirt, his hand coming to wrap around your breast. Groaning into your neck, his thumb rubbed over your hard nipple, and pleasure spiked straight down to your core. He flexed as did so, so turned on that he couldn’t stay still, and his thigh rubbed against your clit again. It pushed your underwear against your core, and you immediately felt the wetness gathered there. 

His cock was pushed up against you, and you couldn’t help but run around his hips under his boxers. As you came around the front he stopped you. 

“This is about you, gorgeous, let me take care of you today.” Price’s voice was wonderfully deep and breathless, you could practically hear how turned on he was as he spoke. Your mind went back to the previous night, still slightly in shock that your fantasies were coming to life. 

You couldn’t find words to respond verbally, but his murmured request made you flex up into him, both relaxing and tightening at once somehow. He used the chance to roll you fully onto your back, and your arms came around him, one running up into his hair, the other still resting in the waistband of his boxers. 

Both his hands found their way into your shirt, and he pushed it up over your head. His sharp intake of breath at your naked torso had you snapping your eyes open, but all that was evident on his face was pure lust. His mouth came down, trapping a nipple in his mouth, and you moaned wantonly. The warm, wet suction of his mouth felt incredible, and you tightened your grip on his hair as he flicked the bud with his tongue, before gently sucking it as he let go. He immediately swapped to the other side, giving the other nipple the same treatment as his hand came up to the first breast. He used the slip of his own spit to slide back and forth over the nipple as it hardened again under his touch. 

He pulled off of your body with a gentle pop, laying kisses between your breasts. The scratch of his beard, similar to his callouses, felt good rather than bad, teasing your now incredibly sensitive skin as he moved. The kisses moved lower, working their way down your abdomen before moving over to lick and kiss your hip. His hands went to the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down and over your thighs. He moved with them, his lips trailing down your hip and thigh, sitting up as he pulled them down over your feet. Sitting back on his heels he paused, taking his first look at your fully naked body. 

“Fuck you are stunning,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. His gaze was like fire, but he moved before you had any time to feel remotely insecure, leaning forward. 

Starting at the inside of your knees, he laid kisses along your legs. He was gentle, but moved with a purpose and intensity. By the time he reached your inner thighs, you were practically shaking with desire, sure that you were a mess between your legs. The brush of his beard against your sensitive thighs was incredible, and you could barely keep your eyes open, before he’d even touched your core. His hands came up, snaking under your legs and tugging your hips so your ankles rested on his shoulders. 

One hand came around further than the other, to the apex of your pussy, spreading you open for him. Just that was enough to make you shudder, rolling your head back into the pillow in anticipation. 

“Already so wet for me, gorgeous,” he growled. “Look at me, love.”

That filtered through your consciousness, and you opened your eyes, leaning slightly forward. His piercing blue eyes met yours, and you watched as he flattened his tongue and licked a strong line from your entrance all the way up to your clit, flicking it gently as he lifted back up. 

The pleasure was exquisite, and your hands scrambled for anything to hold on to, one ending up in his hair and the other fisted in the sheets. He was already moving again, kissing your pussy deeply, tasting the slick already at your core. You tasted perfect to him, and he knew right then he’d happily spend hours between your legs, coaxing pleasure from you. 

His nose teased against your clit as he worked his tongue at your entrance, tracing but not entering your pussy. Switching back to open mouth kisses, he slowly moved up, before latching onto your clit, gently sucking. 

Absolute fire spread out across you, and you couldn’t stop the lewd sounds that came out of you as you tensed. John felt your abdomen clench, and looked up at you. He was happy to see you were listening to instructions, eyes still pinned on him. The sight that met him, and the thought of what else you might do as he gave you commands had him rutting into the mattress, needing friction to relieve some of the building pressure in his cock. 

“That it, good girl. I want to hear you,” he said, raising off you for just a moment, before flicking your clit again with the tip of your tongue. 

You’d never felt like this with a man going down on you before. Usually it felt like it was a precursor to the main event, something to just get over and done with. The way you were responding to this man, his tongue, had you blushing momentarily, but you couldn’t focus on that hone he was back to his onslaught. 

Alternating, he kissed, licked, and sucked on your clit, every now and again going back to dip inside your pussy, tasting the juices there. You were so far lost in the pleasure he was giving you, and shocked at how quickly you could feel an orgasm approaching, that you missed his right hand moving from your hip. 

You sure as fuck noticed though when his thick middle finger teased at your entrance. Jerking upwards, your eyes went wide, hands tightening involuntarily. You were more than wet enough, and it was almost embarrassing how easily his finger slipped inside, slowly moving back and forth. It was obvious to the both of you that you were ready for more, and his ring finger joined his middle. The way he was finger fucking you was almost teasing in its slowness, and John couldn’t help a grin as he felt you clench around him. 

It was all over for you when he started to curl his fingers inside you. Your whole body shuddered as he rubbed the spot inside of your pussy. He felt your hips start to buck up and quickly slid his arm over your abdomen, pinning you down to the mattress. The way you were responding to him was intoxicating, and he absolutely could not help the way that his hips ground into the mattress. He hadn’t been lying when he said this was about you, and had no intention of doing anything more with you. But how turned on he was was intense, and if the only relief he was going to get was the friction of his boxers against his cock, then so be it. He wasn’t too proud to be able to cum just from the pleasure of seeing a beautiful, successful, amazing woman come apart under his ministrations. In fact, he couldn’t think of much else that would arouse him more. 

“Oh, fuck, John…” you finally found your voice again. “I’m close… so fucking close.” You barely recognized your own voice, it sounded otherworldly in your pleasure. A moan wracked through your body, your grip tightening somehow more as your thighs started to shake just slightly. 

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good. Thats it,” he growled, barely lifting off enough to get the words out. “Cum for me, love.” 

As he dove back in, he sucked on your clit, curled his fingers, and his other hand reached up, gently pinching your nipple. 

Your world exploded. Everything went white, your spine curved up and away from the mattress as you arched. You’d never felt pleasure like this, either from yourself or from partners. Fire spread through your body, all the way out into the tips of your limbs. He didn’t stop, slowing and getting more gentle, but fingers and mouth still moving as your shook. 

Aftershocks ran through you as you moaned, loudly and raggedly. Lost in your own bliss, you didn’t notice when John’s own hips moved faster. But as he shuddered and came himself, it drew your attention as he groaned, and it only heightened your orgasm. Knowing that he was so turned on to come untouched was heady, making you feel practically like a goddess in the post orgasm glow. John slowed his movements, eventually pulling his fingers out of you with a slick sound that had your cheeks turning red. He didn’t care though, sitting up and licking your wetness off of his fingers, savoring your taste. 

Still breathing hard, you watched him get up and head to the bathroom. You heard rustling, then a quick turn of the sink coming on then off. John reappeared, proud of the fact that you still hadn’t moved, still in paradise. Ever so carefully and gently, he cleaned you up best he could. By this time you’d come back round and crawled out of bed to shower the sweat and slick off of yourself.

John caught you, grabbing you by the jaw and waist, kissing you deeply. Your legs practically melted, another round of gratification so soon after the first. 

“Is there anything I can get you, love?” he asked, his voice still raw. 

You shook your head. “No, no. I’m fine. Theres coffee and stuff in the fridge if you want some,” you replied absent-mindedly, leaning on him. 

“Ok. Just shout if you need anything.” He kissed your forehead, before pulling away. “That was absolutely incredible,” he added.

“You’re telling me. I don’t think I even have words,” you laughed lightly. “Maybe when I get my brain back in my head in a minute. You’re amazing.” 

“As are you, love,” he replied, helping you into the bathroom. He turned the shower on to heat up, kissed you gently again, and closed the door after you.

You were on complete autopilot as you showered, your legs still jelly under you. It wasn’t until you found yourself downstairs, dressed in leggings and an oversized T, that your attention snapped back to reality. You were greeted by the sight of a shirtless John, wearing nothing but jeans, making coffee and breakfast in your kitchen. The shock of seeing something so incredibly domestic, and so very unexpected, pulled you back to the present. A grin broke out of you as Ollie bounded over to you, and John turned, a smile gracing his handsome face. 

“Hope this is Ok, love, figured you might want some sustenance,” he said, turning back to what he was doing. You simply shook your head, murmured a yes, and walked into the kitchen, thinking that you could easily get very, very used to this. 

Chapter Text

You weren’t sure whether to be shocked or not when it turned out that Price knew how to cook. The shocked side of you still saw the massive, intimidating military man, and couldn’t marry that to the man who was now sitting at your kitchen table, the two of you finishing a simple but delicious meal. Better than you would have done with what was in your fridge. But, as he was explaining, it was something he’d forced himself to learn.

“I got tired of coming home to an empty fridge, an empty apartment, and ordering take-out. Making food wasn’t something that came naturally, I’m definitely the 'veg out with a pizza' kinda guy,” he said, a little sheepishly. “But it was just highlighting even more that home wasn’t really a home, just a place to stay. At least if I cook it seems more welcoming.”

“You’re painting a rather bleak picture for such a nice morning,” you teased. “Though I do like hearing more about you.”

“I don’t see it as bleak, although I can see why it sounds like that. Just is the way it is,” he shrugged.

“Well I’m more than happy to reap the benefits,” you smiled. “I’d love to see what you can do with more than five minutes planning.”

“I’m sure you can find a way to convince me,” he winked. It was amazing the change that had come over him in the last couple days. The two of you had been thrust into close proximity, nothing about your relationship thus far had been normal. But it was warming your heart to see those worry lines disappear, to see him open up. Maybe even find some of that peace that he kept referencing. For the time being though, you were going to enjoy every second of seeing him breathe a little easier. Even if there was the ever present danger in the back of both of your minds.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned him as he tried to stand when you did, moving to clear off the table. “You cooked breakfast, and gave me an orgasm this morning. I’m cleaning up the damn dishes,” you grumbled.

“If we’re being fair, you gave me one too,” he teased, looking up at you from his chair. You had to bat away a hand that came out to grab your ass. God this man was touchy now he was getting comfortable. And fuck, did you love it.

“Ooook,” you replied, dodging around him back to the kitchen. “And you still cooked breakfast. Whoever doesn’t cook, cleans the dishes. Its like, a law or something.”

He snorted a laugh at that. “Don’t know that thats written anywhere, love.”

You busied yourself cleaning up, mostly just sticking things in the dishwasher. For as much as you were insisting on doing them, dishes really were not your favorite thing to do. The two of you would have to come up with some kind of system in the future.

That thought made you pause, just for a millisecond. Not even enough for him to notice before you made yourself start moving again. Officially, the two of you had known each other a month, and gone on only one date. Yet, here you were making casual plans about the future? Extenuating circumstances aside, you barely knew the guy. He had just come into your life so perfectly, so seamlessly, it was almost impossible to keep yourself grounded. Day dreaming of domesticity was not the norm for you, but John wasn’t a normal man, either. Not liking the train of thought you were on, you deflected and distracted yourself with going back to teasing him.

“Also, I don’t know that I can take any credit for anything this morning. I didn’t even touch you,” you said over your shoulder. “That should count for maybe a half in our little equation.”

The sink was running, so you didn’t hear Price come up behind you on silent feet. As you turned it off and dried your hands on the towel next to you, his arms wrapped themselves around your waist. You jumped slightly, and his head came to rest on your shoulder, breath warm in your ear and beard tickling your cheek.

“I came, didn’t I?” his voice was low and gruff in your ear, and it sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t answer right away, and his hand ran up your back and into you hair, giving it a gentle tug. The action opened your neck up to him, and he laid soft kisses from the juncture of your neck and shoulder up to your ear. He ended by nipping at the skin there, making you inhale sharply.

“I asked you a question, love,” John said with another tug on your hair. His voice left no room for argument, strong and demanding.

“Yes,” you breathed, “yes, you did.” The image of him shuddering, coming from nothing but some friction and giving you pleasure popped into your head unbidden. Between that and his close proximity, you weren’t at all surprised that you could already feel heat at your core. Anyone else, it would be a shock. But you were quickly learning that John seemed to be able to read your mind when it came to this.

“Then theres not half anything about it,” he replied. One hand reminded chastely around your waist, the other one moved to grip the countertop. He ground his hips, just slightly, into your ass, but enough that you could feel the growing length in his jeans. “Don’t minimize it, love. I’m not. I’m proud, and fucking delighted that I came the way I did, with a gorgeous woman falling apart under my tongue.” His voice had turned to a growl, and both of you were starting to breath a little harder. The hand around your waist started to wander, dipping down into the waistband of your leggings. Your hands had found the countertop, one on top of his, curling your fingers in between his and the other to your side.

“Now, don’t mistake that for thinking I don’t want you to have my cock, to have me, anywhere,” he punctuated his sentence with swiping his middle fingers over your clit, and kept pushing his hand lower, “you want. Your hands,” his fingers dipped, gathering some of your slick and rubbed it gently in a circle over your clit, “your mouth,” another circle, “your pussy.” The fingers dropped lower again, and teased at your entrance, mimicking his actions to his words.

The thought of him following through with that fantasy played through your mind, spurred on by the feeling of his fingers dipping in and out of you, shallow and slow. Your eyes fell closed, head tipping back to rest on him. His hand was flexing under yours, showing just how much he was restraining himself. The only thing that he continued to let himself do was rock into you, grinding his covered cock into your ass. It pressed you forwards, and the corner of the counter dug into you pleasantly.

“But when and how that happens is up to you. Until then, I’m more than happy to feed my pleasure with yours,” he said, fingers fully entering you, curling up and grazing over the spot inside of you. Your whole body shuddered, and he suddenly was basically holding you up. One of his thick thighs moved between your legs to support you, and your free hand shot up to wrap around the back of his neck, gripping him tightly.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t put much thought into when the two of you would continue on the trajectory you’d laid out this morning. Of course you wanted to have sex with him. You wanted to have sex with, fuck, make love to, do any number of dirty things, with John Price, anything and everything that the two of your hearts desired until you physically couldn’t anymore. The man was turning your brain to mush with how much he was turning you on. But, you certainly hadn’t set out to pick things up again so soon. He was just that irresistible and skillful, and you found yourself about ready to say screw it and drag him upstairs with you.

Following through on any of that was dashed with the jarring noise of the phone ringing. You automatically froze, eyes flying open, breath stopping. John’s fingers stilled, and the only noise was his steady breathing in your ear still, and the racing of your hearts.

“That something you need to get, love?” he asked, not having moved his hands yet, voice strained.

The first thing that left your mouth wasn’t an answer, not really. You groaned, leaning back against him, melting into his strong, warm body. A war raged in your mind, between wanting nothing more than continue, and feeling guilty, knowing the adult thing to do would be answer it.

Price, ever the pragmatist, made the decision for you. He slowly removed his fingers from your leggings, not without first pressing, hard, into your clit, which made you whimper with pleasure. Still taking his damned time, he raised those fingers to his mouth, circling the arm around where you were tangled up in him still. You couldn’t see him still, but had front row seats to the lewd sound of him sucking your slick off of himself, and the incredibly arousing low moan he let out.

“Fuck you taste good,” he murmured, more to himself than anything. He added, to you: “I can feel your hesitation, love, that means you need to answer. I want you fully with me when we’re together.”

Your legs really were betraying you today because his words nearly took them out from under you. Again. The warmth left your back, and you shivered, more at the loss of contacts rather than the cold. Turning, you met him half way as he handed you your phone. The phone had just gone to voicemail, and your cheeks turned bright red when you saw ‘Dad’ on the screen.

“Probably should call him back, gorgeous,” Price teased. “Don’t want him thinking we’re a couple of horny teenagers up to no good.”

“We might not be teenagers, but the rest of that statement is completely true, smart arse,” you rolled your eyes at him. You were loving the camaraderie, the teasing and banter that you were developing. There was a suspicion in the back of your mind that this was a special side of Price, a side that not many got to see. And you thanked your lucky stars that you were in that very special group.

The phone rang again, vibrating in your hand. You glanced up at John.

“I’m going to put it on speakerphone so you can hear, but I’d recommend staying quiet for now. Just make things easier. If thats OK.”

“Of course, whatever makes you more comfortable,” he replied, herding you to the island.

“Morning, Dad,” you said, clicking the answer button on the screen.

“Morning! Hows my favorite daughter?”

“For the millionth bloody time, Dad, I’m your only daughter. I’d hope I’m your favorite.” You rolled your eyes, and shook your head at Price who had a grin on his face he was trying to suppress. Of course he liked your Dad’s corny jokes.

“Doesn’t hurt to remind you though.”

“You sound awfully chipper this morning. I hope you have good news,” you said, wanting to get to the root of what was going on, and get your answers as soon as possible.

“I wouldn’t say great news, but some. I talked to some old friends of mine, people who are still working cases. Theres a drug ring that we think could have been involved. They’ve been operating heavily in London recently, targeting young women. It’s a scam where they follow people who look vulnerable, try to intimidate them, then another one of theirs saves the victim, forming a bond. Then, they eventually make her into either a buyer or a dealer. This is hard, high end stuff, so the people they’ve been targeting have been unusual for this type of op, typically more affluent, career people.”

You glanced at John. The first half sounded eerily similar to how you two had met the second time, when he saved you. If it hadn’t been for the first meeting, you suddenly would have had a lot of questions about proving who he was. It was easy to see how women, scared and vulnerable, would be drawn to the supposed safety net.

“And you think it’s them?”

“It fits, don’t you think? You were on lunch, presumably dressed for work, so looking presentable. Someone tails you from where you were eating, they probably spotted you while you had your head in a book. Think they’ll catch you in the back streets of London, before you get back to work. Or maybe they clock where you work, and come back later.”

“And instead of Gaz picking me up, one of their guys would have. Yeah. Makes sense, I can see how that would happen.” You sighed heavily.

“So thats the bad news. Good news is that I would reckon if you stay in for a couple days, stay away from work, you should be fine. As far as we know this wasn’t a targeted attack, just opportunity. You lay low, get off their radar, and you should be fine. The only thing thats making me hesitate, making me have these demands, is that we didn’t actively see the guy leave. From what Gaz said, he just disappeared into thin air. Just doesn’t give me the happy feeling of conclusion I would like.”

“That doesn’t make me particularly happy either, when you put it like that. I was sort of thinking it was a good thing, that he’d given up.”

“Thats probably the case,” he soothed. “I’d just rather be safe than sorry.”

Worry lines had creased your face as the two of you talked. Everything he was saying made logical sense, and you were about as safe as you could be, by the sound of it. But the irrational part of your brain was stressing, and it was seeping out in the wrinkling of your face, the tapping of your foot, picking at your nails. Price picked up on it, slower than he would have liked to, but his mind was preoccupied too.

It had been a long while since he’d had anyone serious in his life, and his personal life had never intersected with his work. Not like this. It was bringing up serious feelings of possession that he was trying to tamp down. He knew he could be overbearing, and he didn’t like that side of him, but it was roaring with the potential threat to you. Couple that with protectiveness that flared up like a beacon in the night sky. He was fiercely protective of his team, of anyone in his circle really, but this was a different kind of fire burning low in his stomach. The combination was distracting, and his mind was half on that, and half on dissecting the story he was listening to, his training causing him to pick it apart and analyze it.

As soon as he pulled himself out of the haze though, he pinged on all of your body language. Reading people had always come easy to him, and he mentally kicked himself for not picking up on your anxious ticks any earlier. He rounded the corner to stand beside you, leaning a hip on the counter, offering silent comfort. He was hesitant to reach for you, not wanting to crowd you, force more emotions in an already stressful time.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you sighed, glancing up at John when he came close, watching him lean his long, muscled body against your island. “I thought knowing more would help, but its not really answers, is it? Just leaves me uneasy, if I’m being honest.”

Unable to resist the temptation, you shuffled over, leaning your side into Price’s chest, your head on his shoulder. He unfolded his arms as you came close, wrapping them around you, and resting his head on you. One hand on your waist, one rubbing a slow, comforting line up and down your upper arm. Your arms were still crossed, unable to get that last part of tension to leave your body.

“I know, I know. Trust me, I wish I had better answers too,” he replied, sounding almost frustrated. “Not often that I don’t have a full picture at this point in my career. Its infuriating that the time that I don’t have answers is when it involves you.”

You hummed in response, not sure what to say. The first reaction was to comfort him, but you didn’t think that was helpful in the moment. Of course he was frustrated. Hell, you were too. But, it also wasn’t his fault.

“I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. Until then, I’ll stay home. Make both of our lives easier. I know Ollie will love it,” you eventually said, the ‘humor as a coping mechanism’ compulsion still running strong today.

“You still got that boy with you? Price? I did some digging and-” you lunged for your phone, clicking off the speaker phone, pulling the phone up to your ear. You missed the first half of the sentence, and your Dad must have noticed the commotion because he paused. “Everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah, just tripped,” you replied, face flaring up fire engine red as you looked back at Price through your eyelashes. He looked equal parts shocked, amused, and somehow proud of himself. The ass.

“Well I was saying that his career and records are exemplary. I’d be very curious how you met him, the man has almost done more than I have, and been a damn good operator. Hell, I think I want to meet him. Ask about a few operations I saw listed. I’m more shocked that we’ve never run across each other.”

“Almost?” you asked, picking up on the fact that he made sure to add the qualifier, even whilst praising Price.

“Well, can’t give him too much credit. I still need you to know that I’m the toughest guy in your life. And that I can beat up anyone who hurts you.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Dad. You’re not beating anyone up at your age.” John’s eyebrows skyrocketed, almost into his hairline.

“Anyway, I have to go, have some more things to get done today. Your mum says she loves you, and you should come stay if you want to,” your Dad replied, handily ignoring your comment.

“I will if I don’t feel comfortable here. Have a good day,” you replied, shaking your head.

“You too, love you, kid.”

“Love you too, Dad,” you replied, hanging up the phone finally.

Staring down at it, you tried to ignore the stare Price was giving you, but it was practically drilling into the top of your head. As you looked up, you could feel the heat rush to your cheeks again. His face was a mess of a smile that was begging to break free, and trying to look serious.

“So you told your Dad about me, huh? Should have kept it on speaker,” he teased. “I wanted to hear that part. And why am I getting beaten up?”

Chapter Text

Ollie shifted slightly, pushing his head more into your side as he slept. The two of you were back in your favorite spot on the couch, you leaned up against the arm with your laptop on your legs, him cuddled into you. It was almost evening by now, and you’d had to spend most of the day working on your project. There had been a couple meetings about budget requirements, but most of your day had been spent doing research and planning. Of course, when you’d asked him to, Price had stayed the day.

If you were being honest, it had been more awkward for you to have Price there as you worked, instead of just socially. You took pride in your work, and knew you were good at it, but it was a solitary profession. It felt weird to have someone share your space, and you found yourself self-conscious of stuff that didn’t really matter. Like how you moved all the time when you were on the phone, or liked to listen to obnoxiously loud music while you worked. Or got so hyper focused on one thing you barely breathed for an hour.

For as worried as you were, Price was a perfect houseguest. While you were on the phone, he went outside and played fetch with Ollie. When you had headphones on and wouldn’t be disturbed, he watched the football match on TV. He let you do your work in peace, without complaint. At one point, Gaz came back over to give him a change of clothes and essentials, and you took a quick break to say hi to him and actually get his phone number. Other than that brief distraction, Price only talked to you once without you starting the conversation, and that was to ask if he could get you anything to eat for lunch.

You were starting to be convinced he must have some serious skeletons in his closet, other than the obvious, rather literal, ones. There was no way that any man, or really any human could be this perfect. It was making you question how deeply into the honeymoon phase you’d fallen, and if you were missing something.

Throughout the day the two of you had chatted on and off about mundane things that came to your mind. He was very attentive to what you’d been doing, and asked questions when there was an opportunity to do so. By the time six pm rolled around and you were done with work you felt like you’d given him Curatorship 101.

You were finishing up the last of work for the day when the doorbell rang, and Ollie launched himself off of the couch, making you jump. Still on alert, you froze, holding your breath as the worst possible scenarios ran through your head. It took a couple seconds, but slowly your mind caught up, remembering that Price had ordered food for the two of you earlier. His voice filtered through to you as he opened the door, and you sighed. As much as you wanted to pretend you were calm about the whole situation, obviously your nerves were on edge, whether you liked it or not.

Closing your laptop, you set it on the end table and went to the kitchen. Price smiled up at you, grabbing a couple plates.

“Done for the day?”

“Yeah, I think so. I usually just work when I feel like it or have inspiration, so being ‘done’ is relative.” Walking around the island, you grabbed a plate and some dinner, and the two of you ate dinner whilst chatting quietly.

Price was slowly opening up more, allowing himself to talk rather than focusing and redirecting on you and your background. Every piece of information you learned was a treasure, a piece of a puzzle that was forming into a still somewhat distorted image of who John Price was. There were plenty of things you could tell he was still avoiding talking about, gently moving the conversation on to safer waters. Most of the time it was when work or work adjacent topics came up, so you didn’t pressure him. He’d either tell you when he felt ready, or it was classified and he couldn’t tell you, and that was all there was to it. There were some personal topics too, like family and past relationships, which intrigued you more. But despite that, the picture of the man, rather than the soldier, was coming together.

A couple hours later, the two of you found yourselves on the couch watching a movie. It had taken the two of you a ridiculous amount of time to decide on what to watch. Unsurprisingly, it turned out that Price was extremely stubborn, but, unfortunately for him, so were you. Eventually though you worked out a compromise, though it did make you feel better that he actually did have faults. Like his taste in movies being entirely decades old cheesy action films.

Despite that, you were currently glued into his side, happy as you could be. Legs thrown over his lap, you were twisted at the waist to lean against the back of the couch and be able to watch the TV. His arm was slung around your shoulder, providing almost constant light pressure, pulling you into him, while the other hand rested on your legs. The position left your head to lean up against his shoulder and chest muscle, and one hand on his toned stomach, with the other on your thigh.

Every now and again you found yourself missing the movie, too focused on the slow rise and fall of his breathing, and the comfort you found within it. It was beyond you how you’d ended up curled up on your couch with such a gorgeous, near perfect specimen of a man. Speaking of which, as you shifted your hips to get comfortable, your hand slipped dangerously low. John’s breath hitched, just minutely, which drew your attention to just how close to his lap you’d strayed. Apparently he too was not fully paying attention to the movie.

That small, innocent movement was all it took for the fire to reignite in you. It was never going to take much, between how incredible that morning had been and how attracted you were to John, but you were still shocked how quickly your mind went from perfect contentment to wanting to rip his clothes off.

Fully distracted now, your attention zoned completely into the man next to you, you started tracing your fingers over his abdomen. Back and forth, just above his waistband, which drew your mind back to that morning, and how good his skin had felt under your hands. You adjusted again, suddenly much less comfortable now that you had the growing heat in your core. Gingerly, you worked the hand under his shirt, fingers feeling their way along his sculpted muscles, feeling his already heated skin under you. As engrossed as you were on your actions, you missed that John’s intense gaze and focus had settled on you, his breath shallowing out as you drew scorching lines across his obliques and abs.

After you squirmed again, and now you finally noticed John’s change in demeanor. His hand tightened around your shoulder, fingertips digging into the flesh there. You stilled, not sure if he meant anything by it, if it was a positive or negative. John’s thumb ran a pattern on your shoulder, his voice rumbling deep enough that you could almost feel it in his chest where your head was pressed against him.

“Don’t stop on my account, love.”

A breath slowly escaped you, mind tumbling at the possibilities now that you had his go ahead. Part of you just wanted to skip everything and jump straight to the main event. But what your brain settled on was how much you wanted to make him feel good. Altruistically, you could justify it as wanting to repay him for your earlier orgasm, or how great he’d been taking care of you. Realistically though you really just wanted to see the big, strong man melt under your touch and turn to jelly.

Leaning into your hand, you pushed up and swung your leg back, coming to straddle his lap. His large, strong hands immediately went to your hips, flexing into them. You settled down into his lap, and were rewarded with the rapidly hardening length of his cock digging into your inner thigh. He groaned, and when his eyes tore themselves away from where they were glued to the joining point of you two, pure fire was all you saw.

One of his hands worked up your back, gently putting pressure between your shoulder blades, drawing you towards him. Taking control even though you were literally on top of him. You allowed him, for the moment, and he swept you into a kiss. His lips sparked a fire in you, that sped down your limbs raising goosebumps along your skin. Almost immediately his tongue snaked into your mouth, and the two swirled together as you subconsciously ground your hips into him. Pulling away slightly, you softly bit his lower lip, dragging your teeth over it as you pulled backwards.

A grin came to your face as you looked down at him, and you used his chest as leverage to push yourself backwards over his thighs towards his knees. His gaze flickered between your eyes, your movement and where his hands were involuntarily sliding down your legs as you moved. Understanding flashed in his expression as he met your gaze again, and one hand snaked out to put a finger under your chin and focus the two on each other.

“You don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to.” His tone was serious, but his blown pupils belayed just how much he was restraining himself and his level of want.

“Trust me, I definitely want to,” you replied with a smirk as one of your hands ran back up his thigh to ease over the bulge in his jeans. With only enough pressure to be considered teasing, you rubbed up and down it a couple times, sucking in a breath as you felt the outline of his cock. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to.”

John’s head tilted backwards on the cushions as he felt the minute pressure. Even through two layers of cloth it felt like your hands were on fire, but he couldn’t bring himself to be self conscious when a groan was ripped out of him. You just loved the sounds he made, and immediately wanted to draw more out of him, the noise sending a bolt straight to your core. Hand dropping, he took a deep breath to help calm down and looked back at you.

“Far be it from me to stop you then,” he replied, abs flexing as you smiled like a cheshire cat and applied more pressure on him.

Setting one foot down behind you first, then getting on your knees in front of him, you couldn’t help the excitement that was building inside you. His knees fell apart, resting on the sofa as you scooted forward, your forearms going to his thighs. Taking a second to appreciate this thick thighs, you ran your hands up and down the cloth, loving how he reacted. The small twitches and movements he made just egged you on, the fact that you hadn’t even touched his skin and yet he was reacting like this was intoxicating.

Your hands skimmed back up his legs, going to his waistband, making sure to just very gently skate over his bulge again, which earned you a buck of his hips as he tried to work more pressure out of you. You didn’t want to tease him, not really, as it would only delay your own pleasure. But your body seemed to have a mind of its own, hands ever so slowly undoing his belt. John’s breathing increased again, and you could see his abs flex even through his shirt. Moving on to the button, you popped it open, and he froze as you inched the zipped down. Maybe your brain was short circuiting because you could swear you could hear each individual tooth undo from your position on your knees, forearms resting on his upper thigh.

Reaching into his pants, you caressed his cock over the thin layer of his underwear and he shuddered at your first contact. Wrapping your hand around it, you stroked up and down earning another groan. Both of your hands came up, gripping the waistband as you slowly pulled it down. John’s hands clenched the fabric of the couch where they rested next to him, and his whole body tensed up as you raked the boxers down and his cock sprang free.

Both of you stopped breathing for a moment, John lost in the exquisite view of you on your knees and trying to control himself. For your part, you were stuck drinking in the sight of his cock, painfully hard and a twitch belaying how he felt. He was big, thick, far thicker than average and perfectly matched the rest of his body in how bulky he was. Your first thought was how the hell was that going to fit in your mouth, but that was rapidly followed by an involuntary deep pulse and yearning in your pussy as you imagined taking him. He was neatly groomed which you appreciated, and you nearly fainted as you noticed a bead of precum on his tip.

You wrapped a hand around his length, near the base, and stroked upwards, tracing your thumb over a prominent vein on the underside. John started breathing again, but it came in short bursts, uneven and overwhelmed. Your thumb ran over the tip, collecting the precum there while John groaned. Bringing the digit to your mouth, you sucked it in, tasting the saltiness gathered there. His hand shot out, gripping your face with his palm over your jawbone and a thumb under your chin. He tilted your head up to watch, and you bit your lip as you looked up at him after seeing how dark his eyes were. Pushing against the pressure on your face until he gave in, you leaned in, and traced the vein once again, this time with your tongue.

At the first contact, John moaned again, hips sinking further into the couch, opening himself up to you more. When you reached the tip again, you swirled your tongue over it, sucking just his head in. John’s head fell back against the sofa, and the hand on your face sliced into your hair. He didn’t give any pressure or direction, just rested there as you pulled back off of him. One hand rested on his hips, supporting yourself, and the other gently ran up and down again, twisting over the slickness left my your mouth.

Pushing the flat of your tongue under his head, you came up slightly on your knees and pulled his cock towards you slightly. Sliding your mouth over the head again, you started to pick up a rhythm. Each time you went further down you look just a little more, and your hand stroked and twisted on the remaining length of his cock. Your desires were coming true, feeling, seeing and hearing him completely lose his composure as you worked. The skin of his cock was soft, and you loved how responsive he was to your touch.

The pressure on your jaw was a dull ache, having to hold yourself as open as you were to be able to take his girth in. But it was worth it as he panted and moaned above you. One of his hands was still on the sofa, clenching and releasing over and over as he tried to keep his mind right in the face of your onslaught. His muscle control was failing, and as his free hand clenched one time, so did the one in your hair, deliciously pulling on it. You moaned around his cock, and the vibration made him buck his hips into you, pushing just a little further.

Using his handle in your hair, he pulled you off of his cock, a string of saliva still lewdly connecting the two of you. He gathered it with his free hand, slipping his now wet thumb inside your mouth. You sucked, dutifully, and his breath hitched at the scene in front of him.

“You like it when I pull your hair, gorgeous?” The voice that came out of him was so deep that is barely sounded like him, the rasp he naturally had even more accentuated.

His thumb slipped out of your mouth for you to answer, but you nodded, words failing you.

“Remember your colors, love?” You nodded again, in response. “Say something or tap my side if it’s too much, OK? I need you to use your words this time,” he said, and you met his blazing blue eyes, his cock twitching slightly between the two of you.

“Yes,” you breathed, still nodding, your brain having turned to mush as much as his had.

“Good girl,” he replied, grip in your hair tightening as he pulled your head forward.

One of your hands was still wrapped around the base of his cock, so you angled it towards you as he guided your head. Your mouth once again enveloped him, and he used some pressure to push you down faster. The efforts you’d made earlier had made your jaw ache, but also opened you up, allowing him freedom. He started to use the grip in your hair to bob your head up and down, essentially fucking your face without even moving his hips.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he groaned as he pushed a little further than you’d been. “Do you think you can take more, gorgeous?”

You hummed an affirmative, pushing yourself down before he even had a chance to catch up. The head of his cock tapped against the back of your mouth, and, with a little pressure from him to help, you swallowed it into your throat.

John’s whole body shuddered as he held you there for a second, your nose buried in the base of his cock. You took short, stunted breaths around him, and without anything else to do, rotated the hand that had been on his cock to give attention to his balls. Very gently, almost teasingly, you fondled them, and John almost lost control, having to stop himself from ripping your head backwards off of him as he was quickly overwhelmed.

“I’m not lasting much longer, love,” he panted, rolling his head back upright to look at you from where he had had it thrown backwards. “Where do you want it?”

He loosened his grip and you pulled fully off of him, just your lips moving against his tip as you talked.

“In my mouth, baby. Cum for me.” You immediately wrapped your mouth around him again, taking half of his cock into you as he groaned at your statement. His brain rapidly caught back up, and he tightened his hand again, pushing you further, back into a rhythm. You couldn’t even be mad that he’d taken over what was supposed to be your control when he was obviously enjoying it so much. And, despite him physically being in charge of your movements, he made you feel so powerful, rendering him almost incoherent. Just how much he effected you was evident every time you shifted, the very obvious puddle of wetness in your underwear making itself known.

“Just liked that, love,” he murmured, seemingly having to force the words out. “That’s perfect. Fuck, fuck. I’m going to come.”

You let him lead, not wanting to change your apparently perfect rhythm. And you were rewarded by his whole body tensing up, cock pulsing in your mouth as you tasted saltiness. It didn’t stop though, more ropes of his cum pumping into your mouth, and you had to swallow some of it. Which enticed another moan from him as you contracted around him, and he bucked up into you, shuddering. His hand slid out of your hair, and you slowly pulled off of him, earning another moan.

When you looked up, his eyes were half closed, staring at you, but they widened appreciatively when you swallowed again. You couldn’t help a half grin when his softening cock twitched at the sight of you.

“Christ, you’re going to be the death of me,” he grumbled as you wiped your mouth on the corner of your hand. “Come here, love.” Tugging on your arm, he helped you up onto the couch.

The slick in your underwear was bad enough that you wondered if it was leaking through at this point. John pulled your legs over his lap again, careful not to get your leggings dirty on the mess you’d made of his cock. His hand went to start gently rubbing blood flow back around your knees, and the other supported your neck as he drew you into a heavy kiss. He couldn’t care less that you tasted like his cum, if anything it started to turn him on again, thinking about how good you’d been for him.

The hand around your neck stretched further as he kissed you, coming to your jaw and massaging easy circles when he heard it click. You were more than happy to call it a day there, but your body had other ideas when you moved your legs, providing friction against your clit. Involuntarily, you moaned.

“What do you want, love?” John asked, resting his forehead against yours. “Let me make you feel good.”

Breathing deeply, you replied, “I want you, John. I want you inside me.”

“Are you sure, love? We don’t have to do anything more…” he said breathlessly, stroking your hair away from your sweat studded brow.

“Do you want to?” you asked, cocking your head into his hand.

“God yes,” he growled. You could feel his cock already hardening against your leg.

“Then, as much as I appreciate it, stop worrying and fuck me, John.”

Chapter Text

Zero time was wasted as John groaned at your words and tightened his grip around you, lifting you as he stood. You squeaked, not expecting him to be able to so effortlessly maneuver with you in his, and he took the opportunity to glue his lips to your again. His hands ran up your back under your shirt, leaving tingles in their wake, the touch lighting up your skin. Too soon, he gently set you on your feet, and you slowly pulled back, regretting the lack of contact immediately. The only consolation was it freed you to get to the bedroom as soon as possible, and the promise of more to come.
Sliding your hand down his arm, you grabbed his hand in yours, loving how big his hands were in yours. Turning, you sharply tugged on him and heard his deep chuckle behind you as you pulled him along. The two of you barely made it to the hallway, just to the bottom of the stairs, before he pulled you to him once more. Your back thumped into his chest, and his hand snuck up, wrapping around your neck. Those same thick fingers your just arrived maneuvered so that his thumb and forefinger went to the corners of your jaw bone. This new position allowed to tilt your head to the side with minimal force, and his lips attached to your neck. Gasping, you stuttered forward slightly, hitting the wall at the base of the stairs, your hands going up to brace yourself.

John took advantage of the momentum, pushing you into the wall with his significant mass. The hand around your neck provided the barest, but most fantastic pressure, but you felt unbelievably safe and protected, his warm form pressing into you. His beard tickled as he moved his kisses up your neck, moving to just below your ear.

“You don’t know what you do to me, love. I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he rumbled, his breath teasing the shell of your ear.

“We’re never going to make it upstairs at this rate,” you gasped, goosebumps running down your limbs as you reacted to his words and proximity.

“I’ve half a mind to take you here, against this wall,” he admitted, his free hand wandering over your lower abdomen. Your breath hitched and shuddered, mind running wild. He paused, groaning deeply, a noise that barely sounded human. “But, that’ll have to wait for another day.” The last sentence seemed like it was almost to himself, striking a personal deal that there would be more times in the future, times where he could ravage you without a care.

Before you could process, John was pulling back away from you, and with a slight smack on your ass, he ushered you up the stairs. You’d fully given the reins over to him by now. But, you had faith that he would take care of you, both literally and in your pleasure, so it was far from a hardship. The man obviously liked to take charge, and if you were honest, it was incredibly attractive.

He was on you again as soon as the bedroom door was closed behind him, spinning you and crushing his lips into you. Arms reached around your waist, tugging you close enough to feel that he was already hardening again in his pants. Your hands ran up his thick pecs, over his shoulders, one tangling into his short hair, the other coming to rest on his cheek. The two of you moaned almost simultaneously, tongues swirling together. His hair was so soft between your fingers, something that seemed important only because your senses were going off the rails. Every touch, every sensation, felt overwhelming, from this silken hair to the slight coarseness of his beard, to the strong yet supple movements of his hands and the friction of your underwear on your already sensitive clit.

Unable to wait any longer, your hands slid down, coming to the hem of his shirt. Pulling harder than you meant to, you pushed it up, over his abs and near his pecs before he begrudgingly let go of you to raise his arms. He ripped the T over his head, throwing it somewhere in the corner of the room, and went right back to kissing the breath out of you. His skin was wonderfully warm and soft under your hands, and you traced his spine and muscled back slowly. He felt just as good under your hands as he looked, and god, he looked fucking incredible.

It didn’t take long before he wanted your shirt off too, but he was still being careful with you. He pulled it only a few inches up, pausing to make sure you were ok. The part of your brain containing any modesty had left the building as soon as he started touching you, and you reached down and wrenched the thing off, throwing it as unceremoniously as he had with his. Your breasts heaved under the glance that he snuck as he latched his lips to your neck, working down the new skin that had been exposed.

His hands were on the move again, running up and down your back, the calluses once again scraping and making your shudder slightly under his touch. One hand went up and up, to your neck and into the hair at the base of your head. He didn’t really even tug on it, just tightened his grip, but it was enough to encourage you to tip your head back. The kisses moved from your shoulder to your collar-bone, and down onto the full flesh of your breasts that rose out of the top of your bra as you breathed heavily.

Evidentially unhappy with how you were positioned, he lifted his head, and gently maneuvered you backwards. The backs of your knees hit the bed, and you gave in, collapsing down to sit on the edge. John leaned over you, resting a hand on the bed as he caged you in, once again capturing your lips against his. The kisses had become sloppy, more hurried, and he fought to control his breathing every time the two of you reset. His beard finally scratched your face slightly despite its softness as he lost control in his excitement. You knew that your face would be sore in the morning but you couldn’t care less, loving this more forceful side of him as the military man lost his composure.

His free hand traced up your side to your bra, unclipping it with one deft movement. As he had come over you, you’d leaned back onto your hands, but you pushed up into him, bringing your hands forward and allowing the garment to fall off. It joined the other discarded clothes on the floor. John’s heated gaze fell lower, and you felt your nipples harden immediately under the attention.

A low, satisfied noise escaped him as he kissed the top of your sternum, working his way down as he slowly lowered himself to his knees. His lips traced a searing line down the center of your chest to in between your breasts. Your breathing had become ragged and out of control already, before he’d barely even touched you. It completely stopped as he licked over the rise of your breast, his tongue flicking at your nipple. Struggling to get a breath in still, your hand shot out to grip his hair as he laved his tongue over the pebbled skin. His lips closed around it, sucking gently and your breath finally came back to you as you heaved, the sensation going directly to your core.

A harder pull had him coming up off of your skin, but he quickly raised a hand, his fingers using the slickness left by his mouth to tease your nipple. His mouth moved over to caress the other one, repeating the action. Ever so gently, he ran his teeth over the bud as he pulled back, and your hands fisted the sheets at your side and his hair. You felt his small smile against your skin at your reaction rather than saw it, and bit just slightly harder. Not really even enough to cause pain, but the change in texture had you moaning. He immediately soothed with his tongue, running the broadside of it against your nipple before planting a kiss on the flesh just above it and renewing his journey downwards.

How quickly he was probing if you liked things just a little rough thrilled you, and though you were loving his cautious, gentle, ministrations, you couldn’t help but wonder what John Price would be like when given full permission to be rough. Your wandering thoughts were wrangled back by the feel of his hands skating across your abdomen at the band of you leggings, dipping slightly into them. His strong hands found purchase in them, and he pulled down. You tilted your hips up to help him, and he cheekily caught your underwear as he pulled the leggings down, baring you to him. Obviously getting as impatient as you were.

In stark contrast to the care that he had taken before, he dove straight in to eating you out this time. His tongue licked a broad stripe up your pussy, and you gasped, falling back onto your elbows on the bed. Head thrown back, your chest heaved as you tried to catch up, his tongue already moving to your clit. He made a point out of it, flicking against you gently. Your hips started to buck at the sudden attention, but he anticipated, bringing his arms up and under the backs of your thighs, hands going to the crease of your hips.

Initial urges satisfied, and happy now that he had the taste of you on his tongue, he took a second to jerk you forward, positioning you to his liking. You’d looked down at him when he moved you, and he rested his cheek against your inner thigh. His bright blue eyes met you from where he was indecently close to your pussy, though you weren’t sure why that was a thought you were having when he’d been a hell of a lot closer moments before. Slick already coated his facial hair, but before you could be at all embarrassed he spoke up.

“So wet,” he breathed, one hand coming back around your thigh. His middle finger ran up and down your folds before he pulled it back, a line of your slick connecting the two of you. “Just from having my cock in your mouth?” He dragged his eyes off of where the two of you were linked, looking back up at you.

There was something so incredibly hot about seeing him on his knees for you, gaze full of heat, his hand covered in you. It made you lose focus, distracted by the debauchery, and you missed his question. His hand went back to you, and he very gently pinched your clit between his index and middle finger, just enough pressure to get your attention. Quietly moaning, you tensed, drawing your eyes back to meet his. An eyebrow ticked up on his face.

“I asked you a question, love. You made this much of a mess just from being a good girl and making me cum?” The combination of praise and mild degradation nearly made you lose focus yet again, but you just about kept your wits as he started running slow, soft circles around your clit, never fully touching it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be a brat, missing all his questions the first time, though lord knows you could be one. He just did things that melted your brain.

“I just…” you panted, working your thoughts into something coherent. “Its…. seeing you get turned on and worked up. I love your cock but taking care of you is what really got me.”

He groaned at your words. “I know how you feel, gorgeous.” His head tilted to the side, kissing your inner thigh. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” his hissed, and his mouth was on your pussy once more.

The hand that had been idly playing with your clit slipped down, teasing at you entrance. His tongue teased at your clit, alternating between hard licks with the tip and soft kisses, gently sucking on it. Momentarily, he went lower, lapping and probing at your entrance with his tongue. You shuddered, and he tensed his huge arm muscles. The movements he made were fascinating to your blissed out brain, the flex and relax of his arms and shoulders under and around your thighs, the way moved his whole body up and down as he pleasured you with his tongue. How his hands had a general location but couldn’t seem to stay totally still, wanting to touch as much of your soft skin as possible. And how every now and again you were completely certain you saw him roll his hips, seeking friction on his cock in his pants.

Back up to your clit with his tongue, and his hand came back to your hole, pushing his middle finger in to his first knuckle. You gasped more out of habit than anything, because the finger slipped in without any resistance at all. John growled against you, before sitting back on his heels, watching as he pushed all the way in, twisting the digit slightly.

As he pulled the finger out, he added a second immediately, still intently watching you. He started to pump his fingers for real, deliciously slowly, and your head fell backwards as you tried to hold your composure. Positioned liked that, you missed him move to add a third finger until he started to push it in. Finally, you felt a little burn and stretch. Noticing the way your lower belly tensed, he brought his mouth back to your clit, easing the pain with pleasure. As you got use to it, you were grateful more than anything. His cock was definitely on the bigger side, and it had been a while, so you knew you’d need the stretch.

Between his hand, which was speeding up, fucking you perfectly, and his mouth attending to your clit, it was only a matter of time before you started to feel your orgasm building. You fully fell back onto the bed, one hand going to grip John’s hair, the other fisting the sheets. Squirming, you pulled him harder into you, and he pinned you hips under his strong arm. The sensation started in your extremities, building so fast that your back bowed upwards as you shuddered. The orgasm hit in waves, and John gently coaxed you through it, increasing your pleasure. Your legs tried to close around his head, but he held you in place. Slowly, you came back down, muscles relaxing from where they’d all tensed. John eased off, and laid a kiss on your inner thigh.
He quickly made he way back up to your face, and you pulled him in for a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you breathed as you tilted back slightly to be able to look in his gorgeous eyes. You fought a smirk as you noticed a very slight blush at the praise. Somehow it just made him hotter, seeing him flustered.

“You’re one to talk, love,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Pretty sure part of my soul left my body earlier,” he chuckled.

“Well, lets see if we can get the rest,” you teased, scooting out from under him and back on the bed to the pillows. “Take your pants off, please, John.” You nodded towards the last piece of clothes the two of you had left.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, standing and wasting no time. When he pushed his pants and boxers down, his cock sprang free. He was unbelievably hard, precum leaking out of the tip, which was almost painfully red.

You tensed up involuntarily at the sight, core clenching around nothing, and he hissed out a breath at the sight. He leaned down to his pants, fishing around in the pocket.

“If you’re looking for a condom, I’m clean, I got tested recently… and if you don’t want to use one, I don’t.”

His head popped up, searching your face.

“I’m clean too, military tests us often… You sure? Don’t want to pressure you, love. I have one, just in case. Wasn’t going to push you one way or another but wanted to be prepared.” He shrugged, and watched you carefully.

“I’m sure, John. We’re both clean, we’re both adults. I even have an IUD, so nothing to worry about,” you gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, half of your brain was focused on not staring at his gorgeous figure.

“If you change your mind at all, you know what to say, love,” he said as he joined you on the bed. One hand rested by your ear, and he leaned on an elbow on the other side, bringing his heated body closer to you. His cock came to rest against your pussy, and both of you tensed and moaned. He rolled his hips against you, seeking the friction provided, and it pushed him against your already over sensitive clit. The man was going to fucking kill you if you didn’t help things along a little faster.

One of your hands snaked down between the two of you as the other tucked under his arm, wrapping around his back muscles which were prominent as he held himself up. Your hand wrapped around his thick cock and you reveled in how he shuddered at your touch. The both of you readjusted, squirming as you guided him to your entrance. He collapsed down onto both of his elbows, and you were absolutely positive you heard a small whine from him as you notched his cock inside you, the tip easily slipping in from the preparation. Your eyes closed and your head rolled back, your core clenching around him.

“God damn, love, I’m going to cum immediately if you keep squeezing me like that.” His voice was practically just a groan in your ear, breath tickling your insanely sensitive skin.

“You just feel so good,” you said, and you barely recognized the breathless voice that came out of you.

You tried your best to relax, breathing more deeply and you unclenched your muscles. John started to push further into you, and you had to focus hard to not squeeze him again. His cock felt incredible dragging along your walls. It was a tight fit, but the burn was more than made up for by the exquisite pleasure. As he pushed a little further, he pushed against the spot inside you and your back bowed up in the little space you had below him. Which only made your nipples rub against his chest, and did nothing to relieve the intense feeling. Both of your hands were wrapped around him, and you couldn’t help digging your nails into his back muscles. He seemed like the kind of man who liked a little marking, thankfully.

He groaned at the contact, confirming your suspicions. It was getting harder for him to push in now that he was half way, so he started gently thrusting, pushing a little further in each time. Each pull and push provided incredible friction in your pussy, making you moan wantonly. John wasn’t doing much better, tensed up around you, hands clenching and releasing as he tried to control himself.

The feel of himself inside you, bare, was almost too much. His refractory period had always been good, but you were making him feel like a teenager again. He’d already cum, not even an hour ago, and he was already worried he wouldn’t be able to hold it for long. The combination of your incredible body, almost as if it had been molded just for him, and the tight grip of your pussy, was driving him over the edge. He was tensed up just to try and maintain control.

Finally, finally, one thrust had him fully seated inside you, and he paused, making you both groan as he filled you completely. Any pain you’d had was gone, replaced by nothing but the amazing feeling of John Price completely overwhelming you. It only took a couple seconds of stillness before you were already squirming under him, urging him to move as the delicious full feeling became too much for your over sensitive body.

Taking the hint, he started to slowly thrust, picking up speed gradually. Every time he went in and out he scrapped against the spot inside you, increasing your pleasure. Your hands were constantly moving up and down his back, and your legs wrapped themselves tight around him. You groaned at the new angle, and he shuddered, losing his pace for a moment. The heat was building in your core again, shocking you as it was far from normal for you to cum again so rapidly. But John wasn’t a normal man, either.

One arm slipped under your head, tangling in your hair as his thrusts picked up both speed and ferocity. The new angle brought him close to you and you loved the noises he was making in your ear. Thank god he wasn’t quiet, there was just something so hot about hearing a man moan.

“I’m to going to last long, love,” he panted, “Sorry.” The last word slipped out before he could catch it. It wasn’t often he was self conscious in the bedroom, but he prided himself on being able to make his partners feel incredible. Cumming this fast wasn’t part of the plane

“Don’t you dare apologize,” you gasped as he hit your Gspot. Again. “Remember, nothing turns me on like making you feel good. And I’m not far behind.”

Almost on cue, your pussy clenched around him and you shuddered as his cock provided even more friction. He hissed a curse, but you couldn’t help it, he felt too fucking good.

“Where do you want me to cum,” he breathed, not slowing. If anything, his thrusts were speeding up as he started to lose control.

“Inside,” was the only word you could force out. Your nails scratched up and down his back, leaving what you were sure would be welts.

He groaned, and a hand reached down between your bodies. John was careful not to overwhelm you so soon after playing with your clit, but he provided gently, constant pressure, bringing you right up to the edge. Your skin was unbelievably sensitive as the orgasm built, every sensation making you more turned on. The scratch of his beard on your cheek, the hand pulling on your hair as an anchor, your nipples rubbing against his chest, even the soft hair on his torso against you was too much.

You came, hard, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that your vision went white. Any control you had left of your body was gone, and you shuddered and clenched around his cock, over and over. Which was John’s undoing. His thrusts got sloppy, losing the even pace he had had as he chased his own pleasure. He filled you so completely with a final thrust, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you as he came. The feeling pushed you into aftershocks, pleasure rolling in waves over you. John’s large frame shook over you, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, completely encompassing you in every way as he came down from his orgasm.

Unhurriedly, the two of you relaxed. He unwound his arms from the bear hug, you relaxed your legs, stretching out your sore hips. You were loving the heavy, safe weight of him on top of you, and you whined when he pulled up off of you, making him chuckle. When he pulled back enough to see his face, it stole your breath away. You’d never seen him more relaxed or happy, and he was positively beautiful, even covered in sweat and in complete disarray.

“You’re stunning,” he said, kissing your swear covered brow. “Let me get you something to clean up, gorgeous.”

“We might just need to change the sheets at this point,” you laughed, and it accidentally made you clench around him again, which made both of you gasp. Slowly, he pulled out of you, and you hissed at the drag of him over your overwhelmed pussy. “There’s some towels in the cabinet in the bathroom,” you added.

He fetched them for you, and after wetting one he very, very carefully and gently cleaned you off. The changing the sheets idea wasn’t bad, and you pulled off the blanket where you’d been laying as you stood up. The sheets underneath were still good thankfully.

“Where’s a spare, love? I’ll fix it up, you do what you need to.”

Perfect. This man was perfect. You told him where to find it, and closed yourself in the bathroom. Rinsing off quickly in the shower, you could feel him leak out of you, and you couldn’t help laugh slightly and shake your head at the whole situation. After drying off, you did your night time routine, and left the bathroom for John to use. He wasn’t in the room when you came out, but he had laid out a new blanket, so you cuddled down into the sheets.
A few minutes later, as you were starting to doze off, he came back, quietly closing the door.

“Wanted to check everything and let Ollie out one last time. Figured you needed to charge this, too,” he said, coming around the bed and handing you your phone.

“Right. Didn’t even think of that,” you said.

“That’s what I’m good at,” he replied, kissing you on the forehead and going to the bathroom.

He worked quickly, giving you just enough time to check your phone before he reemerged. Crossing the room again, he took what was now his place on the bed, closer to the door. He plugged his phone in too, and set it on the end table before sliding into the sheets next to you.

Immediately, Captain Touchy wrapped his arms around you, tugging you close to him. You settled into the cuddling, resting your head on his chest. And it wasn’t long before you were asleep for the second time, listening to the deep, calming breathing of John Price.

Chapter Text

Once again, you woke up with the overwhelming feeling of heat. It wasn’t unpleasant though, the room had chilled overnight in the winter air. Instead, blanketed in warmth and comfort, you couldn’t think of a time you’d felt more content. The two of you were spooning, John’s body practically engulfing you from behind. His arm was draped over your waist, thick forearm resting in front of you. The other arm was stuck under you neck, and the first thing that you saw as you slowly blinked open your eyes. 

The scars and nicks in his skin told a story that you couldn’t help be fascinated by. His hand rested half open in front of you, and you slid your hand gently into it, feeling the callouses that were just another chapter. The hand involuntarily flexed in his sleep, tightening around you. In fact his whole body did, muscles contracting and his face nestling further into your neck, beard tickling your skin. You smiled sleepily, loving that even in his sleep he was reaching for you. 

One of your legs rested at a 90 degree angle up and to the side of you as you slept, and one of Price’s thighs had ended up nestled between your legs, his hips pressed to you ass. The two of you had fallen asleep naked, a fact that you hadn’t focused on until you realized that his cock was also pressed into your ass. And he was hard. Suddenly, everything had a different light to it. The thigh between your legs felt shockingly close to your pussy, the arm around your waist teasingly close to your boob. He was curled around you so tightly that he fit every part of you, a fact that was simultaneously calming while suddenly making every muscle in your body tense up. 

You froze, intently listening to John’s breathing behind you. You were pretty sure that he was still completely asleep, and it was just you intently aware of the way that the two of you were intertwined. Relaxing again, you settled into the moment, enjoying it as much as you could. It was obvious that Price needed the sleep, he was still knocked out for another hour or so, and you dozed off again yourself. 

Waking up for the second time was just as pleasant for a moment, but then the furnace behind you moved again, pulling away. Frowning, you rolled halfway over. 

“I’ll be right back, love,” he murmured, and made his way to the bathroom. Satisfied, you closed your eyes again, burrowing down into the warmth of the bedding. You’d starting to fall back asleep again when the other side of the bed dipped, and John’s arms curled around you again. 

“I could get used to this,” he murmured in your ear, “Good morning, love.” His voice sounded fantastic all sleep addled and grumbly.

“You’re telling me,” you replied, squeezing his arms. “Morning.”

John’s hands had started wandering, but respectfully so. He traced up and down your arms, causing goosebumps to spring up. His face nuzzled into your neck again, and the scratch of his beard on your overly sensitive skin felt amazing. You couldn’t help yourself, you started to wriggle and squirm. His touch was just so good, even platonically, making you feel like your skin was a couple sizes too small. There was the not so small matter of his cock, less hard now but still very noticeable, and still very much pressed into your ass. You stretched like a cat, pressing yourself into him and practically rubbing yourself against his skin. 

A deep chuckle came from behind you, something you almost felt more than heard. His thick arms squeezed you gently. 

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

“I am not,” you replied on principle, voice full of mock outrage, a smile playing on your lips where he couldn’t see it. 

“Mmhmmm,” was the only reply you got. Which wasn’t really a reply. More of just a noise. And his hands started to wander again. But this time it was decidedly not chaste. 

The hand draped over your waist reached up, cupping the underside of your breast. His thumb traced over your nipple, barely there. But plenty enough pressure to make your breath stutter slightly. Most people probably wouldn’t have even noticed, but the hardened military man behind you, who’s life depended on being observant, certainly did. 

His face was so buried in your neck that you felt his smile, though you imagined is was probably more of an evil grin, knowing that he had you cornered. You harrumphed in a probably not very sexy way and he chuckled again. An idea sprung into your head, because you certainly weren’t going to let him just get away with that. You squirmed again, but with intent this time, grinding your hips back into his rapidly hardening cock. 

You were immediately rewarded with his whole body shuddering, collapsing half on top of you. A full grin broke across you face at the reaction you’d teased from him. 

“Needy and naughty,” John mumbled, his hand fully wrapping around your breast as he leaned into you. 

“I am not needy,” you repeated, but the effect was lost this time as your voice came out significantly more breathlessly. 

“Lets test that theory, hmm?” he said into the back of your neck. He was most of the way on top of you now, propped up on his elbow by your shoulder. The hand on your boob traced down to your hip, just fingertips stroking your skin gently. To your dismay you reacted almost instantly, not that you’d tell him that. But heat was pooling in your lower belly as the small circles he was making reminded you of last night and the skillful way he could use those thick fingers. Maybe you were needy. Fuck. This game wasn’t going to end in your favor, you could tell. 

John settled back down onto his shoulder, the hand under your neck reaching around to tease a nipple that was peaked under all of his ministrations. The other one slid slowly down your hip crease, and your pussy clenched around nothing from how sensitive the skin there was. Your hips tilted away from him, propping your leg out and laying more flat on the bed in an effort to escape how quickly you were proving his point. Unfortunately for you, he just followed, pressing his hips into yours, pushing you flat on your stomach. And very effectively trapping his hand under you in the gap created my your propped up leg. 

A breath slowly hissed out of you as his hand ventured further down reaching just above your clit. And stopping, providing delightful pressure on the ridge there, but not nearly enough to provide the kind pleasure you were wanting, pent up as you were getting. Furrowing your brow, you pouted before you remembered he couldn’t see your face, angled as the two of you were. He was half over you, but his head rested on one shoulder blade. A gentle kiss was placed there, his soft lips not meaning to tease but your skin already felt like it was on fire, and every move he made just stoked that. 

It worked great last time, so you tried wriggling again. Except this time John had his whole body around you like a vice, and on your best day you weren’t any match for his size and skill. And this definitely wasn’t the ideal place to find yourself in, his fingers teasing you both on your clit and your nipples. Instead, you just tried to push backwards into him, but his hips were already trapped against you so that got you no where. Shit. You could feel yourself getting wetter, the teasing and stopping wearing down your patience and walls. 

“So… uh, you gonna move or what?” you said, unable to stand the silence. 

“You going to admit you’re needy?” 

You attempted to rotate and glare at him, but you couldn’t manage with how he had you pinned. And it backfired on you when it caused his fingers to shift against your clit, making you tense up. God, the pressure in your pussy was getting ridiculous. 

“Fuuuuuck, I do not like you very much right now,” you grumbled into the pillow. 

“Just say how bad you want it and I’ll make you feel so good, love.” To prove his point, he rotated his fingers in a small circle over your clit, causing you to suck in a deep breath. 

He slipped the fingers down further, and you could tell when he noticed just how wet you were when he groaned into your back. Two middle fingers slid ridiculously easily to your entrance, just teasing you without actually pushing further inside. Your mind was blank with just how much you wanted him, desperate for more. One thing you did notice was how he ground into your ass though, cock rock hard. So it wasn’t just you who was dying to go further, huh. 

“You’re acting like I’m the only one who wants this,” you groaned. “This isn’t getting either of us anywhere.” 

“I don’t have a problem with admitting anything. I’m dying to sink my cock into that sweet pussy, to work as many orgasms out of you as you’ll let me. I woke up rock hard for you, because I need you so badly, because you make me feel better than anything ever had. I just want you to admit it too.” John’s voice was practically its own aphrodisiac, growling in your ear as he reached up and spoke into your neck. 

He words were getting to you too, you couldn’t help but adore how vocal he was, how his confidence translated into being able to tell you exactly what he wanted and felt. You could almost physically feel your resolve crumbling. And then he stroked his fingers, hooking them gently and pushing inside your, admittedly extremely needy pussy. Fuck it. 

“You’re right, god, you’re right. I need you John, please, I-I can’t wait any more,” you whined, voice thin and needy. 

“Fuck, thank god, I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out,” he groaned, fingers sliding up to your clit as he repositioned himself over you. 

His other hand slipped out from under your neck, and he propped himself up on it as he started to rub your clit. Fucking finally. You could barely keep a breath in, your pussy so sensitive already that you could already feel the beginning of an orgasm barreling towards you. His cock dug into the center of your ass as he settled over you, and he was already so hard that he didn’t need any help lining himself up on your entrance. 

The movement on your clit didn’t stop as he pushed ever so slowly inside you. As soon as the head of his cock seated itself in you, you knew you weren’t going to be able to hold out. 

“Fuck, John, fuck you feel so good,” you panted. “Fuck, I’m going to cum already.” 

“That’s it, gorgeous, cum around my cock for me.” 

A decadent moan tore out of you as you shuddered, orgasm ripping through your overly sensitive body. Everything went white and black for a moment as John just made it worse (or better) by fully pushing into you as your pussy clenched around him. Thankfully he took some mercy on you and gently pulled his fingers off your clit as he fucked you through your orgasm, moving slowly but pumping into you hard. 

“You feel incredible,” John mumbled almost to himself as he lowered himself slightly to plant open mouth kisses along your neck. You stretched up, opening up to him and your hands wrapped around his arms as he held you. 

His pace picked up just slightly, still just as intense as before, chasing his own orgasm. Eventually he wanted to spend a day in bed with you, slowly enticing pleasure from your gorgeous body. But, god, he was so enamored with you, he just couldn’t control himself around you. Yet. And when your body reacted the way that it did so easily, just as excited for him as he was for you, it was impossible to resist. 

Those thoughts rattling around his head, his cock drenched in your orgasm, your pussy clenching him hard, it wasn’t long before he could feel the start of an orgasm. 

“I’m close, love,” he sighed, unable to keep his breath in check anymore.

“Jesus, me too,” you gasped out, shocked and how quickly another orgasm was building inside of you. This never happened, but somehow John was able to work your body in ways you’d only dreamed of. His cock teased the spot inside you perfectly as he ever so slightly shifted his body behind you, not changing the pace or intensity intentionally. Just moving enough to make sure you were getting the most pleasure you could from him. 

A few strong thrusts later, and your body started to tighten up in the beginning throes of cumming. John felt your body tense below him, and without changing how he was pushing into you, he put all his weight on one elbow, snaking his hand back down to your clit. The extra stimulus was all you needed, and it only took a couple seconds of his attentions before you cumming again. This orgasm was slower, gentler, feeling like you were just being taken along on a wave, but felt no less good than the first. 

The feeling of your pussy clenching and massaging John’s cock took him over the edge too, and he came hard, shuddering over you. His weight dropped down on you before he could catch himself, and he tried to be gentle as his muscles spasmed. You could feel his cock twitching inside you as came, and to be honest you couldn’t give a fuck about the weight of the huge man on top of you. It made you feel safe, having him draped over you, and in the post orgasmic bliss had you thinking there was no where you would rather be. 

After a few moments, John took a heaving breath, and, cock still rested inside you, he lifted his head from the pillow next to your neck where he had landed. Lazily, he rolled his head over, and rested his forehead on you. 

“Well, good morning, again, love,” he chuckled and you couldn’t help but giggle along with him, then the both of you moaned slightly as your body clenched around his softening cock. 

“Could get used to this,” you replied, repeating his earlier words. 

“Me too,” he said, sealing it with another kiss to your neck. 

Chapter Text

It was well into the morning when the two of you actually made it out of bed. The morning was peaceful, it was past rush hour and London was uncharacteristically quiet. Weak morning sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, subdued by the grey overcast skies. You didn’t have much work that really needed to get done that morning and it was hard to be motivated to do anything at all when you had a sweet, giant of a man laying on top of you. He’d finally started to open up more to you, and you were taking every single piece for the precious thing that it was. 

“You’re a much stronger person than me,” you replied to him softly when he told you about how hard his schedule could be at times. “It must be tough being gone so much.”

“Get used to it eventually,” he shrugged, shoulder bouncing where it lay on your stomach, positioned as he was, his cheek on your breast. One of your hands drew lazy circles on his back, the other gently scratched his head, running your fingertips through his ridiculously soft hair. Every now and again he made a happy, contented noise, which made your chest feel so full it felt like it might burst. “Besides, someone’s gotta do it, and if I don’t then who will?” 

You couldn’t help the way your face scrunched up at that, and you were glad that he couldn’t see you and question it . It wasn’t that you disagreed with the statement in principle, he obviously did so much to keep the world safe, and most people would never even know his name. You just weren’t best pleased that he took all of that solely on his shoulders, noting the use of ‘I’. 

“And if you’re too busy out saving everyone else, who’s taking care of you?”

He shrugged again. “Don’t really need it anymore, I guess. It was harder when I was younger, but its all I’ve ever known, really. I joined up so young, I never had a chance to get used to anything else. I manage, nothing to worry your sweet self about,” he said, rocking up onto his elbows and giving you a soft smile.

You made a small, noncommittal noise in the back of your throat, and one hand reached out to cup his face, thumb sketching back and forth over his beard. It hadn’t been your intent, but now you were wondering if he’d let you in enough to be that safe space where he could put aside his stressors and worries, and feel relaxed enough to put himself first. You’d never pretend you could be the answer to all his problems, but maybe you could at least help. 

Meanwhile, he was looking at you like you were the most interesting thing in the world. A quiet, soft expression took over as he made eye-contact with you, and you wondered if maybe he was thinking the same things you were. A second passed, and you held your breath, not wanting to break the moment. But you never had to, as the comfortable silence between you two was broken by the sound of his phone ringing. 

Seriously? you thought to yourself. It was becoming a fucking annoying habit for the two of you to have moments ruined by inopportune phone calls. A surprised look crossed John’s face, quickly followed by a pained one. 

“No one ever bloody calls me,” he grumbled as he sat all the way up. You weren’t best pleased either, but were happily placated by the sight of the full, thick muscles of his chest, the gorgeous Adonis belt, and, when he turned, his heavily corded back muscles. There was no way in hell the sight of that would ever get old. 

“‘Ello?” He said, answering the phone as he sat down on the edge of the bed. 

You took the moment to hop up and use the washroom, giving him some privacy in the meantime. As much as you didn’t want the morning to end, there was no way that you’d be able to go back to the calm that had been interrupted now that you were fully up and awake. And, you figured you should probably get started on work anyway, so you spent 5 minutes freshening up, internally grumbling about it the loss of the peace between you two the entire time. 

What you weren’t expecting to see when you opened the bathroom door was John already pulling a shirt over his head, a slightly sad, tight smile on his face. 

“Whats wrong,” you immediately asked, worried about his expression. 

“Nothing, love, everything’s ok,” he soothed as you grabbed a Tshirt to pull on. “I got called in to work, that’s all. I wish I could stay but its about the guys from the museum, and it really needs my attention right away.” Regret shaded his face, the lines in his face deepening, and he took a couple steps around the bed towards you. He sighed. “And I’m going to have to be gone for the night.” 

Your heart rate immediately spiked and your eyebrows shot up into your hairline as you thought about spending the night alone. Stupid, really, when that was the norm until a couple nights ago. But the thought of being by yourself when there was still some unknown threat out there was already making your hands clam up. Before you could help it, your brain was starting to turn over, possibilities milling inside.

“Hey, hey,” John added, closing the distance to you and grabbing you by the upper arms gently. “Its ok. I promise. Like I said, I wish I didn’t have to leave, but I’m going to be as quick as I possibly can, and I’ve got the next best thing, if you’re ok with it?”

“Whats that?” You asked, voice not quite steady but damn good considering how fast your mind was racing. 

“Gaz is free and would love to come over and make sure everything’s ok. He can spend the night, though I might object if you do the same ‘there’s only one bed’ thing with him,” John said, his eyes boring into yours and a teasing grin spreading across his face. You knew he was trying to break the tension and make you feel better, and while it didn’t completely work, you certainly appreciated it. 

“I’ll save that one just for you,” you replied softly, the corner of your lips twitching up slightly. “But I‘ll have you know I really was just trying to be nice, not get in your pants.”

“Whatever the motivation was, I’m dammed glad with the result,” he smiled, his hands running up your shoulders, lightly cupping your face. Your breath hitched in your throat as he kissed you, fire igniting across your skin in the way it always seemed to when John was involved. He deepened the kiss first, but you took that and ran with it, hands grazing his stomach as you latched them around his trim waist. Just when you were wondering if you had the strength to push him backwards onto the bed, he groaned and separated himself from you, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“As much as I really, really, want to continue this and explore what you have in mind, I have to go, gorgeous,” John said, his words punctuated by heavy breaths. “The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back,” he promised, thumbs brushing your cheeks. 

Sighing, you nodded. “I get it. I’ll walk you down?” 

John raised up slightly, pressing a demure kiss to your forehead as he wrapped you up in a beautifully warm and safe hug. The two of you stood like that for a few moments, just breathing in each other’s company, content to be secure in each other’s presence. Slowly though, you broke apart, and it wasn’t long before John was scratching Ollie behind the ears at the front door. 

“You be good and keep your mum safe for me,” John told him. “You’ve done an outstanding job so far.” Even if he couldn’t tell exactly what John was saying, it was obvious that Ollie could sense the praise as his tail started to wag a million miles a minute, swishing back and forth. He smiled happily up at John, blissfully unaware that the nice man who was his new best friend would be leaving in a couple moments. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” John added to you, raising up. You wondered if all that military training was telling him that your stomach was in knots, anxiety and sadness warring for control of your emotions. He gave you a soft kiss that you tried to memorize. 

“Stay safe, John.” 

“Of course, love,” he finished, and took the couple of steps down. He paused, turning half way to you. One last smile to you and he was gone, off down the street as you tried to not stare at his retreating form. 

Taking a deep breath that might have been a sigh, you closed the door behind you and Ollie. It shouldn’t be this hard to let him go after just a couple days, but you couldn’t deny the tug on your heart as you made your way back to the kitchen. 

“Well then, kiddo, time to get to work I guess,” you said absently to Ollie. Despite the pep talk that you were trying to give yourself, you did take a couple moments to stand still in the kitchen, hands gripping the counter as you worked to get yourself together. It was easy to blame the strong emotions on fear that someone would try something now that you were alone. But, if that was the case, wouldn’t the thought of Gaz joining you be enough to calm down? The other option, though was a lot scarier. Because if it wasn’t just the anxiety of being followed, then you were falling headfirst for John, and that left you a whole lot more vulnerable than any physical threat ever would. 

Shaking your head as if you could physically get the thoughts out, you grabbed a drink and headed to the living room. Might as well work on getting yourself distracted, and get stuck into work. Just under a hundred emails greeted you, as they did almost every day. Between your multiple exhibits, including the new one, general staff messages, and museum memorandums, someone almost always wanted to get a hold of you. The only way you’d found to manage the constant onslaught was to have a separate work laptop and phone. When you were newer to the job, you’d found yourself one too many times checking the emails on your personal phone in the middle of the night, or mid conversation. It was just easier this way, keeping everything separated.

Yet another sigh left you as you settled into the task and the sofa. Ollie had rapidly got over John’s departure when he realized he had you all to himself again, curling up with his body firmly pressed to your thigh. After a moment, with your mind still whirring, you leaned over, turning on some music on the TV. That seemed to help calm your thoughts, and eventually you came across an email that was interesting enough to jog your brain into work mode, and the next couple hours went by much more easily. 

Mid-afternoon, and you were pulled out of your work trance by the search for some food. As you were rummaging around the fridge, trying to avoid thinking about John cooking in the same space just a day ago, your phone buzzed on the counter. Plopping a container down, you checked it to find a message waiting. 

Afternoon! Captain told me a bit about your situation, mentioned you might want to see a friendly face until he gets back?  

You’d just finished reading that, when a second message came through. 

This is Gaz, by the way. From the other day?

A small chuckle left you as as you replied. I could have picked that up from context clues, and its only been like 2 days, you really think I’d have forgotten you?

A shrug emoji. Doesn’t hurt to be specific. It’d be wayyy more awkward if you said ‘who’s this’. Then I’d have to be hurt and it’d be a whole thing.

Well I’ll spare you the embarrassment, you replied, adding a wink emoji as you reached for a plate. 

So we’re on for tonight? 

As long as I’m not inconveniencing you, you tapped out.

Wouldn’t have offered if you were. Cap can be a hard ass, but he’s not the kind of guy to ask someone to come in on their day off without making sure its ok. 

You smiled down at your phone as you read that message. Yeah, that sounded right. Obviously, you were far from an expert on all things John Price, but the impression was someone who was serious about both getting shit done, and taking care of those around him. 

Another message from Gaz: I can be over in a couple hours, and I’m dying for a curry after being in god knows where all last week. I can bring one over, if that sounds good to you. 

Looking down, you considered the meal you’d just prepared. Would you want to eat that soon after? 

 Fuck yeah, I’m down. 

The two of you worked out a time and an order over the next few minutes, and you got stuck back into work. It hadn’t taken long, and Gaz had managed to both distract you from John’s absence, and given you motivation to actually be productive for the day, wanting to finish before he came over. You could already tell that the two of you were going to be friends, and, quite frankly, you were thrilled. 

Chapter Text

Pinching the bridge of your nose with one hand, you sighed as you hung up the phone with a museum in New York who’s staff was being particularly annoying. It wasn’t as if you were entirely and completely aware that they were doing you a favor. And that them volunteering a piece of their artwork that was worth millions was a huge undertaking and deserved incredible respect, both to the painting and the people involved. But good lord, did they have to be so pedantic on every single point? Down to the car service that was going to meet the courier at the airport not being good enough, they were arguing anything and everything. 

Usually your work was a reprieve, a sanctuary for you to lose yourself in. And for most of the day it had been. But suddenly, it just felt like one too many things. Several major things in your life had been upturned the last weeks, from John entering it, to the potential danger you faced, to the fact that you really needed to follow up with your Dad about whatever bullshit he was trying to pull coming out of retirement. Adding on the fact that work wasn’t helping, not to mention the fact that you were working from your sofa was a constant reminder of your predicament, and you were about to be at your boiling point by the time the afternoon rolled around. 

Yet, none of your issues were convenient enough to fix themselves by ignoring them. Work wasn’t going anywhere, and honestly the longer to delayed the call to your Dad, the worse it was going to be. You sighed, then spied on thing that you knew would cheer you up. Clicking your tongue, you ignored the side eye that Ollie gave you from his cozy bed in front of the fire, and encouraged him up on the sofa next to you. He let out a very over dramatic sigh, before jumping up. A little awkwardness ensued, but soon you were laying with your head and shoulders propped up on the arm of the couch, and him wedged in between the back of the sofa and you, half on your chest. Despite his complaining, he was already giving you sleepy slow blinks as you stroked his velvet head when you reached for your phone with the other hand. 

Quite frankly completely over the concept of work for the day, you instead made a couple taps to the shortcut, and dialed your Dad. As you listened to the dial tone, you ran Ollie’s ears through your fingers gently. He had been such an incredible addition to your life, supporting you through thick and thin. John hadn’t been wrong with his parting comment, Ollie had kept you safe for as long as you had had him. Not so much from external threats, though he did make a great alarm when he heard something and barked. But more from the pangs of loneliness and self doubt that had plagued you. He gave you something to always look forward to and to care for, and never failed to be there when you needed uplifting. 

Lost in thought, you were almost surprised when your Dad picked up. 

“Whats wrong, what is it?” he said sharply in greeting, his tone what you affectionately referred to as his “work voice”. 

“Nothing, nothing, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted to say hi, check in,” you soothed. 

You practically heard the sigh of relief from the other end. “Sorry, love. Guess I’m a bit on edge right now.” 

“Anything I should know about?” You tried your best to sound nonchalant. It sounded like he had plenty on his mind without worrying about your mental state. 

He hesitated. Which told you absolutely everything you should know. Even if the next words out of his mouth were “No, nothing of concern to you, darling.” 

A snort escaped you involuntarily, and Ollie blinked open one eye as your chest rose and fell sharply. Shushing him, you raised an eyebrow, even though your Dad couldn’t see it. He got the hint.

“What?” 

“Just not sure I believe anything about that statement, if I’m being honest.” 

“You know I’d tell you everything if I could,” he sighed, sounding tired on the other end of the line. 

“I know,” your tone softened, hearing the weariness in his voice. “I wish you would tell me. Or even better actually follow through with the retirement. The world will keep spinning without you, you know.” 

“I’m well aware, darling. Probably too aware. I don’t want to have outlived my usefulness and be put out to pasture.” 

That felt like a dagger straight to your heart. “I don’t think anyone would ever accuse you of that. You’re the most capable and useful person I know. And though you don’t like the training gig, you could really make a change to future generations.” 

“Hmph. No one wants to listen to an old man.” 

“No, but everyone listens to a absolute legend in the community. Most people would pay good money just to listen to your stories.” 

“Maybe youre right,” he sighed. 

“I know I am, and I know it would make mum and I much less stressed,” you replied, finding a good spot to scratch Ollie behind the ear. 

“Your mum doesn’t know,” he admitted softly. 

“Even more reason to stop,” you scolded him gently. “You know she wouldn’t be happy with even more secrets.” If there was a candidate for sainthood, in your mind it was your mum. She did SO much for your family, and put up with your dad and his well meaning but sometimes unintentionally hurtful actions. If necessary, you’d tell her yourself, because you didn’t want to cause any further hurt. But you’d give him a chance to make the right decision. 

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and you could almost hear him thinking. 

“Since when did you get so wise?” Humor. He was back to deflecting.

You shook your head slightly, hoping that you’d got though to him at least before he steered the conversation away. 

“Since you raised me to be like this. You and mum. Shockingly, some of it stuck.” 

“I’ll think about it, darling, I promise. I can’t just drop everything and leave, I have too many balls in the air currently. But you’re right, as much as it pains me to admit it. I have to pick eventually, and work has won out as the priority too many times.” 

Satisfied that he’d at least heard your piece, and you could get that worry off your mind, you changed the subject to easier ground. Even though you kind of had been calling just to badger him, you didn’t want him to think that. The man was stubborn and would respond better if you bracketed bad news with good. Something you’d learned as a teenager. 

The two of you talked for damn near an hour before he had to get back to work, and you realized that it was almost the agreed upon time for Gaz to be over. The conversation ended with you feeling lighter than when you’d started it. It had been a while since you could talk with him, other than about your current situation, and it felt good to do so. 

“Alright, mate. Time to get up,” you told Ollie, stretching your stiff arms over your head. He gave you the most ridiculous puppy dog eyes in response, looking completely pitiful. “Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re adorable. Its how you get away with everything. But I gotta go pee and maybe change,” you chuckled. 

Seeming to understand your words, he reluctantly stood, hopping off the couch. 

“Ooo big stretch,” you told him with a grin as his whole body stretched, first one way then the other. “C’mon, bud.” 

Ollie trailed you up the stairs, where you got yourself more ready and presentable. Back downstairs, you’d just fished a drink out of the fridge when your bell rang. 

Trying to ignore the panic in your heart that the noise invoked, given your current situation, you cautiously went to the front door. It was Gaz. Probably. But you couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of your head that told you it might not be. The silhouette looked right, but you still left the chain on the door as you cracked it open initially. Confirming it was indeed who you expected, you closed the door momentarily and fully opened it, a grin on your face. 

“Hiya!”

“I come bearing gifts,” he replied, raising the takeout bags in his hands.

“Well in that case, you’re welcome in,” you replied, taking a step back so he could enter. You couldn’t help a glance around outside, looking for god knows what. But you couldn’t see anyone or anything untoward, so maybe you were just being paranoid. 

“Didn’t see anyone when I walked up either,” Gaz supplied as you closed the door, noting your actions. “Can’t say that doesn’t mean there’s anyone out there, but its a good sign, I would think.” 

“Thanks,” you replied, giving him a flat smile and lead him to the kitchen. “Just hard not to be paranoid, I guess.” 

“Understandable, given the circumstance,” he said, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“You want something to drink?” you asked over your shoulder as you pulled some plates out. 

“Wouldn’t say no, whatcha got?” 

The two of you lapsed into a back and forth as you got dinner and drinks ready for the both of you. Gaz was easy to talk to, a comfortable familiarity between the two of you, despite barely knowing each other. 

“So how come you ended up working with John?” you asked, after the two of you had settled in, TV on in the background. About half the food was gone, some of it courtesy of Ollie, who had found an easy target in the form of Gaz, who turned out to be an absolute sucker where the dog was concerned. 

“I was working with the Met, on loan from the SAS,” he replied around a bite of food. Boys. Gross, even if every other attribute was great. “Counter-terrorism. I enjoyed the assignment, as weird as that sounds to say. Everyone always talks about the physical aspect of what we do, but for me its mostly about the mental. I’d rather work on something where I have to problem solve than lift a million pounds or run ten miles. And that’s what that assignment was to me. But we were working with our hands tied behind our backs. Trying to solve problems without having all the pieces.” He paused, taking a drink, expression briefly far away. “So anyway, to make a long story short, I get out to a scene, nearly get blown up, and while we’re clearing I run into Price, who’s also working the case. We talked, I shared some of my… lets say frustrations.” 

“Wait hold up, blown up?” you sighed. “Why am I not more surprised that you and John met at a near death experience.” 

“Part of the lifestyle,” he shrugged. “I meet a surprising amount of people in near death experiences. Hell, that’s basically how I met you. Price and I were on the same page, as far as some of the frustrations I was having. And he asked me to join the team after that.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, there was some other stuff in the middle there, but I wont bore you with the details.” 

“Convenient excuse to not have to talk about it,” you teased. 

“You know how it goes,” he shot you a smile. 

“Unfortunately,” you grimaced. “And the new job has worked out for you?” 

“I like to think so. Its not easy, by any means. But it feels worth it, working with these guys. Price especially. He’s been good to me.” 

“That why you don’t mind babysitting me?” 

“Exactly,” he winked at you, grabbing a couple more bites of food. “What about you? How’d you get into your work?”

Conversation flowed from there again, discussing your lives, or at least what he could of his. Eventually, when everything was put up and you’d stayed up way too late talking and then watching a movie, you pulled a couple blankets and pillows out for Gaz. 

“Sorry I don’t have anything better for you,” you said, leaning on the doorway as he spread the blanket out. 

“Trust me, this is fine. I’d rather be closer to the door, and this is far from the worst place I’ve slept.” 

“I can only imagine,” you laughed. “Goodnight, Gaz.” 

“Goodnight, sleep well.” 

——

Early the next morning, there was an incessant buzzing from your phone. Groggy and slightly confused, you rolled over with a groan, the noise echoing back at you from Ollie at the end of the bed as you disturbed his sleep. Blinking sleepy eyes, you frowned at the time on the clock. You’d set an early alarm, sure, planning to get breakfast with Gaz before having to work, but this was way too early. 

A hand extricated itself from the coziness of your covers, snatching your phone off of the nightstand charger. The frown turned into a smile as you saw John’s name on the screen, and you answered the call. 

“Mornin’,” you said, tucking the phone to your face as you got comfy again, Ollie tucking himself into the warmth of your body.

“Morning, love, sorry I woke you.” The familiarity of Price’s rumbling voice washed over you, though you wished it was coming from the pillow next to you instead of through the phone. 

“How’d you know I was asleep?” Blame the confusion on your brain still coming around.

“Because I’ve had the distinct pleasure of waking up with you before, sweetheart, and you sound the same now as you did then.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Wish I was there experiencing it in person.” 

“Same here, John. Same here.” Finally up to speed and more awake, you asked what probably should have been your first question, if you weren’t stuck in a lovey, sleepy haze. “Is everything OK?” 

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine. Better than fine actually, its great. This is turning out to be an easier situation than expected. I can wrap everything up today, by this afternoon at the latest.”

There was a painful but excited thump of your heart at his words. “Does that mean that you’d be home soon?” 

“Certainly does, love. Should be back by this time tomorrow.” The smile in his voice was clear, even though the distortion of the phone. 

“Thats just the kind of news I like to wake up too,” you replied, trying to hide your corresponding grin. 

“Glad to hear it, I was hoping thats how you’d feel.” 

After a moments hesitation, you plunged forward with your next important question. “Would you like to come over here when you get back? I can’t wait to see you.” 

“I’d like nothing more, love. You won’t be at work?” 

“Shit,” you mumbled. “Yeah, I suppose, assuming no changes, I will be.” 

“No problem, love,” he assured you, “As much as I can’t wait to see you, I’m sure I can find something to do. Probably should stop by my place anyway, check up on everything. Maybe get some clothes and things to bring over?” 

It was cute, seriously cute, how the end of the sentence tipped up into a question. Not a descriptor you would ever have thought you’d be using on a six foot something badass special operator, but damn, your heart melted a little at the uncertainty in his voice. 

“That sounds like a perfect use of your time, John,” you reassured him, the smile in your voice unable to be hidden anymore. “I’ll clear out a drawer or something for you in the meantime.” 

On the other end of the line, John’s heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest, trying of its own volition to flee to cover the distance to be reunited with you. He’d never felt like this about someone, never hated leaving like he did now. His whole life had been about duty, doing what was right for the safety of others. And that was the only thing he could continue to cling to, convincing himself that as much as it hurt to leave, he had all the more reason to do so now. Not only keeping the nameless, faceless masses safe, but one very, very important person in particular. 

Unfortunately, a glance at his watch reminded him of his current situation. 

“I have to get going, love, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, I’m grateful for the moments we do get. Stay safe, OK?” you replied, trying to put on a brave face for his sake. It was something you’d spent your life doing with your dad, and you’d got worryingly good at ignoring the depth of pain you felt at having to say goodbye, no matter how temporary. 

“Of course, love, anything to get back to you sooner. Have a good day,” John said, and you sighed the line went dead. 

  For a few minutes, you couldn’t face yourself to move. Phone still tucked in your hand, you sighed deeply, eyes closed, trying to hang on to the last vestiges of the comfort of John’s voice. Pretend like he was there with you, cuddled up under the duvet, making you feel safe and loved. 

Loved? Where the hell did that word come from? That was an awful big word for something that hadn’t been going on very long, in the grand scheme of things. It wasn’t a word that felt right, just yet, but you could certainly see how it would in the future. Because that word, future, certainly felt right with John. You were both grown adults, and you would take things as they came, just trying to be the best people you could be, together and seperate. But you knew without a shadow of a doubt that this felt right and you would do anything you could to keep it that way. 

There was no way you’d be falling back into the embrace of sleep now, and another glance at your phone told you it was close to the time your alarm would be going off anyway. With a deep sigh, another noise that was echoed by Ollie, you disentangled yourself from your blankets, settling for putting yesterdays hoodie and some sweats on, trying to maintain the last moments of warmth and coziness. 

After running through your morning routine, you wandered downstairs, peeking in the living room to see Gaz up and on his phone. 

“Morning, sorry if I woke you,” you said, the greeting oddly reminiscent of the conversation you’d had this morning with John. Ollie pushed past your legs, trotting over to give Gaz his own greeting, and he received head scratches, much to his delight. 

“You didn’t, not really. My sleep schedules all out of wack, so I was basically awake when I heard you moving around.”

“Can I make it up to you with some coffee? Tea? Breakfast?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe and crossing your arms, getting comfortable. 

“Coffee would be great if you’ve got a pot on,” Gaz said, eyes lighting up. “Anything for breakfast, I’m not picky. Don’t go out of your way for me.” 

“Nah, least I can do. Not trying to be a shitty host,” you grinned. 

“Well in that case, full english sounds great,” he teased. 

A bark of laughter left you. “Jesus, at least let me get caffeine and some food before you start the banter.” Shaking your head, and your shoulders shaking with laughter, you left to the kitchen, and got to work with what you had available. 

The next hour went quickly, the two of you eating and chatting, your heart warm from the easy, happy way you’d gotten to start your day. The most exciting thing though was a text from your Dad, giving you the all clear to be freed from your restrictions. It, of course, came with the now familiar sense of worry, but you knew you couldn’t spend the rest of your life sequestered in your house. Time to be strong. 

After you showed the text to Gaz, he triple checked that you were ok with being left. You appreciated his concern, but this was something you’d have to do on your own, even though you loved the company he provided. So, a while later, the two of you hugged it out, and he left, leaving you with the quiet of an empty house. That suddenly gave you an air of uncertainty, but you were determined to continue the day as you’d start it. 

So, you put on your favorite song on your bedroom speaker, letting the music wash over you as you lost yourself in the routine of getting ready. The outfit consisted of everything designed for comfort: a loose-ish top, stretchy and moveable jeans, laced up shoes. Pieces picked to make you feel at ease, like it was just another day in the office. Briefly you thought about sending a message to your supervisor, but you wouldn’t do that on a regular day, so you wouldn’t do that now. 

Right before you left, you made sure to have some extra snuggles with Ollie. At least one good thing had come of this whole situation, and that was more time with him. His sweet face nearly made you call in, just work from home for the day again, but no. You had to get over this mental hurdle, get back in the saddle. Delaying would only make it harder, and you were determined to get back to living your life. 

Work bag slung over your shoulder, you locked the door behind you, breathing in the fresh morning air. It was nice to be out and about, though you couldn’t help but stay vigilant, eyes darting to take in everything you could. You wished you could put on some music again, something to distract your brain, but your anxiety couldn’t let you lose the awareness of your surroundings. Without something else to concentrate on though, you could feel the stress rising. Heart rate increasing, body starting to heat, fist clenching around the strap of your bag. All things that your body did naturally, but you knew logically wouldn’t help the situation. You needed an outlet. 

Almost on autopilot you fished out your phone, fingers automatically calling one of your most frequent numbers. 

“Hiya Dad, how’s it going,” you said as soon as he picked up. 

“‘Ello, darling, is everything ok?” the crisp accent of your dad almost immediately did the trick, calming your fight or flight response through familiarity. 

“It is, just walking to work and wanted to say hi,” you replied. There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could almost feel the lecture brewing, the concern leaking through the phone. “Dont. Dad, please. I need to do this, need to get back my life back to normal. I don’t need the operator, I need my Dad. I just want some company on the phone, OK?” 

There was another pause, but this one much more brief. “Ok. Ok, I can do that,” he said, gathering his wits about him once again. “What do you have going on at work today?”

The adrenaline slowly left your body as you walked and talked together. It was only about a 10 minute walk to the tube station, where the loss of signal would force you to hang up, and you used that to mentally give yourself a deadline to get your shit together. 

“Thinking about coming to the city with your mum soon,” your dad said, continuing the conversation. “How would you like to get dinner with us and that fellow you have now?” 

“Oh, Lord, Dad,” you chuckled, feeling the blush rise on your face. “I don’t know how I feel about you two being in the same room.”

“I’d feel like I was missing out on an essential part of being a father if I didn’t at least get the opportunity to grill anyone you were interested in,” the tease in his voice betrayed him, even though he tried to be serious. 

“Considering both of your lines of work, I’m highly concerned at what ‘grilling’ might consist of,” you replied in kind, crossing the main road, the entrance to the tube coming into sight. 

“I promise I’ll keep it in check. After all, I - “

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the screech of a tire near you and you automatically flinched, head turning to look at the noise, just like the smattering of other people on the road. A small trade van stopped behind you, one man getting out while the other stayed at the wheel. Panic flooded your system again, the biological response costing you precious seconds. For a moment, you couldn’t decipher whether this was part of the larger threat you’d been dealing with, or just the panic telling you it was. 

It wasn’t until you spun back around, intending to continue your path forward faster (whether to escape the panic or a threat, you weren’t sure) that your worst fears were confirmed. A third man was within 10 feet of you, eyes trained directly at you, his intentions clearly written on the grim lines of his face. 

“Oh fuck,” you whispered, “Dad, phosphorous.” Dread snaked down your spine, cold, cold fear permeating every cell in your body. 

“Whats wrong, what happened?” When you didn’t immediately reply, he said your name sharply. That filtered through as you started to back up, away from both threats as well as you could. But that would trap you against the wall, men coming at you from both sides, the van on the street closing in the box. 

“Three men, white van, I didn’t get the registration,” you rattled off, brain finally kicking into gear, the drills that you’d been made to do since childhood activating in your mind. “Outside of the tube station.”

Sharp, panicked words met your ear but none came through as the man in front reached you, grabbing for your arms. The phone dropped from your hand, and you yelled, trying to create as much of a scene as you could, hoping for help. Swinging a solid hook at him, you connected with his stomach. There was a cuss from the man in front as he stumbled, and you made to shove him out of the way so you could barge through. 

Which was when there was a excruciating burst of pain from the back of your head, and the world went black. 

Chapter Text

Blood roared in your ears as you regained consciousness, head pounding. Unable to form a coherent thought about pretending you were still knocked out, your breath came in short gasps, pain radiating from what felt like every possible place on your body. 

Panic started to creep into the corners of your mind as awareness crept its way through your mind. This was bad. So fucking bad. But it would be worse if you lost your head, and years of your dad’s training clicked into place albeit a little unwillingly. Slowly, you began to catalogue each and every part of your body. Typically, this was a meditation technique, though the pain wasn’t making it very calming currently. However, it would serve excellently to help ground you. 

Starting with your toes, you forced yourself to slowly work your way up your body. Feet were surprisingly fine, thankfully still encased in your sensible shoes from your walk to work. However they started to tingle as you gently moved them, which led to your ankles, one bound to each chair leg. 

That fact nearly derailed your technique immediately, but you wrangled your brain back on to task with no room for quarter. The exercise was also allowing your mind to catch up, and the importance of staying calm was all encompassing. 

Fuck, everything hurt. Even your stomach did, though you weren’t sure if that was more mental than physical. Everything was starting to click into place. Shoulders sore? Turned out your arms were wrenched behind your back. Wrists? When you tested moving them there was a definitely binding around them. Neck pain from being hunched over while unconscious. 

Finally you got to your head, and that’s where you faltered. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to truly catalog and examine the extreme pain there, radiating from what you imagined was the blow to the back of your head. Acknowledging the pain felt like it would let it consume you. Instead, you listened intently for a few minutes, not allowing the panic to win and rush you through the process. Reasonably sure that you were alone, you slowly blinked your eyes open, adjusting to the pain of the bright light. 

The room you were in was finely furnished, but in an odd way. Everything seemed normal, but there was something that wasn’t right, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to figure out what it was. Blame the circumstances. But after a minute, you took in what little you could see outside, as well as the shape of the space, and it clicked that you were in the state room of a yacht. Thats why things looked a little off, everything was shaped to fit the boat, and mostly bolted down. It was a damn nice boat, you realized, as you inventoried your surroundings. 

Even more alarm bells rang in the back of your head that it must have been a hell of a head injury that you didn’t immediately notice the rocking of the boat, but there was nothing to be done about that for now. What could be done, though?

Thankfully your perusal had confirmed the suspicion that you were alone. Not only did it give you time to figure out a plan and take your surroundings into account, but it also meant they didn’t see you as much of a threat. Both good things. The immediate problem was of course the restraints. Leaning forward gingerly, you saw zip ties around your legs. That was not so good. Its a lot harder to get out of zip ties than rope, and your wrists felt like they too had plastic on them. 

Next problem, if you did manage to get free you didn’t know how many people there were on this boat, or how well armed they were. From your estimation, this room was at least 20 feet long. Boats weren’t exactly your speciality, but you’d been on enough to know that meant this was a bog ass yacht. Which meant not only the kidnappers, but potentially a crew as well, and who knew their loyalties and affiliations. 

Next, and most obvious: its a fucking boat. God knows where you were, how far out to sea, what conditions… There was nothing but the inky blackness of night outside, so not in a port, but that was as much as that told you. So even if you got out of restraints, out of this room, past the guards and crew, you’d still have to brave what was mostly likely the English Channel, best case scenario. Worst case, it was the North Sea between the UK and Scandinavia, one of the most dangerous pieces of water in the world. It wasn’t too bumpy currently, but you had no way of knowing how long you’d been out, therefore no way of knowing how far you could have travelled. 

The situation was so dire when laid out in front of you that you very nearly barked a laugh, which was probably slight hysteria. Not great. One corner of your mouth, did, in fact, tip up, which did nothing but notify you that you had a split lip. A sharp hiss left you. At least your little exercise had helped to force your brain to start functioning normally and critically again, and information is power. Even if all the information was fucking shit. 

The door in front of you swung open, startling you. It took half a second to school your face, but that was long enough. 

“Something funny?” Two men entered, one staying by the door and the other stalking towards you as he talked.

“Just how fucked you’ll be when my friends get here.” Shit, that probably wasn’t the best way to start a conversation. Everything you’d been taught was to be nice to the kidnappers, humanize them and yourself.

“Is that so?”, he replied, circling your chair once. Your neck strained to keep eyes on him as he came around the front, crouching in front of you. “You have a lot of faith in these friends.” 

“I have good reason to,” you bit out. 

“They let you get taken though, didn’t they? Can’t be that great.” 

You stayed silent, not gracing that with an answer. He could make of that what he wanted, but you knew there was nothing to that claim, and you didn’t really have any interest in information sharing with this dickhead.

“Glad you see my point,” he replied, apparently taking your silence for agreement. He was just below your eye level, crouched as he was, and you took in his features

“What do you want with me?” you asked, unsure where all this defiance was coming from, but clinging to it like the lifeline it was, protecting you from completely losing your cool and panicking. 

“Well, that’s the question of the hour isn’t it?” the man straightened, forcing you to look up to keep an eye on him. “Why do you think you’re here?” 

“I have no fucking clue what-”

The hit to your face came faster than you could process. Admittedly, you probably should have been expecting it, given your situation and your attitude. But this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances for you, and it wasn’t as easy in practice as it was in theory to keep your wits about you. 

Surprisingly, the most pain came from your neck as your head whipped to the side. There was a hell of a crick in your neck from your unceremonious treatment, and the sudden jerk probably gave you mild whiplash, if you had to guess. The pain in your face throbbed stubbornly, lip and eye smarting from the injuries already there. Blinking rapidly to rid yourself of the sudden dizziness, you glared at the man in front of you. 

“Now. I don’t like to have to do that. But lets not start off the day with you cussing and lying to me. Otherwise its going to be a long, long day for you.” A smirk grew on his face, confirming your suspicion that he really didn’t give a fuck what you did. This was just another intimidation tactic, a way to control you physiologically, make you think you had control over what happened to you, only to set unrealistic standards. “The thing is, I know everything about you, so there’s really no reason to lie to me.” 

That statement made your blood run cold, though you didn’t let it show, having had enough time to fix your expression back in place. It made this whole situation more concerning, confirming your suspicion that you were here for a reason. This was a hell of a lot of effort to go to for just a random kidnapping. 

“I know where you work, where you live. Who you hang out with, though you’re a bit of a loner, aren’t you?” Maybe that was meant to be a dig, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care currently. “I know where you went to school, what you studied. Who your family is. Who your father is.” 

The word father was spat out like it offended him, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes narrowed, just slightly. But it was enough. 

“Ah, see, there it is. I also know just how intelligent you are, so I would have been disappointed if you didn’t put two and two together. Dear old Dad. Devoted parent and husband, aristocracy even. And cold blooded murderer and war criminal.” He leaned in close, and you fought the urge to lean backwards, his breath warming your face. “Your father took something from me. So I took something from him.” He straightened again. “I nearly had you a week ago, at your work. But your father had one of his lackeys watching. Then again on the street, but once again saved by a minion. But, I’m a patient man. I can wait. It usually works out, just like this time. Speaking of waiting, I have some business to attend to, I’m sure you can manage by yourself for a little longer.”

You fought the immediate urge to make a snarky comment about him being done with his Bond villain-esque speech, sanity winning out finally. The two of you watched each other for a moment, assessing, before he turned on his heel. A nod to his silent partner at the door had the two of them leaving. Straining your ears, you thought you heard a lock click into place from the outside. More good news. 

Alone once again, you let out a heavy sigh, ignoring the pain that rushed across your ribs. There might be a broken rib in there somewhere, something you’d missed on the first examination of your body. Jesus Christ, there was a lot to unwrap in that speech. 

And yet, all that your brain could latch on to was his comment about the day at the museum. The day you met John. Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned Price by name, with any luck that meant that he either didn’t know who he was, or didn’t know what he’d come to mean to you. Maybe that meant that you had a hidden ace up your sleeve, one comprised of John and Gaz and his team. 

But the fact that he had called John one of your fathers lackeys hurt your heart in a way that you weren’t ready to examine yet. Had he been planted there? Had he know who you were the entire time? Lying to you to get close to you, putting himself in your life for the job? It would certainly explain why he popped up at the perfect moment when you were in danger from your date. 

Tears pricked your eyes. Of all the shit you were going through, apparently that was what was going to get to you. 

No. No, you couldn’t let it. Deep breathes. If you fell apart now, there was no chance of you getting out of here, no chance of getting a chance to tell both John and your dad that you were unbelievably pissed off with them and give them a piece of your mind. 

Because your dad equally deserved it. Months, maybe even years at this point, of lying to you that he was retired. Fucking weird retirement if he was still so involved in the business that he pissed someone off so bad to get you kidnapped. You clutched onto the anger now sparking in your mind. That was much more useful than the sadness. 

A plan. That’s what you needed. A plan to get out of here. It would probably piss your dad and John off no end, seeing as it went against all general advice to stay put and appease kidnappers, but you couldn’t stay here. Also, fuck them right now. The man, though surprisingly chatty, had proven a propensity to surprise violence, and you didn’t want to wait around to see how that escalated. If the men in your life were annoyed, well you were too. And your dad shouldn’t have spent your whole life teaching you how to protect and defend yourself if he didn’t want you to use the skills. 

Keeping your eyes firmly on the door, you wriggled in the chair, testing both the bonds and the chair itself. The zip ties were tight, too tight. But the chair? That creaked and groaned even with the minimal movement you made. That was your weak link. You risked looking away from the door, and leaned gingerly to each side, checking out what you could see of it but making very sure to not tip over. Very simple wooden construction, and a quick glance up told you it didn’t match any of the other chairs in this room.  Huh. The criminals didn’t want to mess up the decor. Somehow that added insult to injury, you weren’t even important enough to risk getting a blood stain on the upholstery. 

Gently, you leaned back on the two back legs, watching the door again, listening carefully to the complaining wood as you strained the legs at an angle they were unused to. Perfect. An idea took root in your mind. Break the legs off, slip them out of the ties at your ankles. That’d leave you free to stand, sliding your arms off of the back rest. Then all you had to do was break the zip tie on your wrists, and you had an idea for that. 

Right. Simple plan. Hopefully simple in execution too. The first step was going to be painful though, you needed to get enough momentum to break the legs, which meant throwing yourself on the floor. Probably violently. Because you were only going to get one chance at this. If you missed or messed up, didn’t break the legs, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to get back upright. And if the men came back in here and saw you like that, you didn’t want to see what they would do in retaliation. 

Ok. Deep breath. In and out. The pain would be temporary, and more than that, it would be worth it. You rocked slightly backwards, then used the momentum to propel yourself forwards. Thighs burning with the awkwardness of the position, you continued the movement, standing as much as you could. The joints in your shoulder protested as the back of the chair prohibited your movement further, the chair coming with you as you had stood but unyielding. Pushing up onto you toes, you used every ounce of momentum and strength to jump slightly, then launched yourself backwards. 

Pain exploded throughout your body once again, and as you struggled to get a breath in through being winded, you briefly wondered if there was a point where you just hurt so much that you didn’t have any more reactions. Obviously you hadn’t reached that marker yet, if the tears springing to your eyes were anything to go off of. Blinking rapidly, you realized with a start that your legs were free to move. 

Hope blossomed for the first time that day. Scrambling, you rolled yourself onto your side, and kicked your legs until you slid free of the chair completely, the back of it coming free from between your arms and back. You were sure you had about all the grace of a newborn deer as you struggled and hurried to stand upright without the use of your arms, but it did the job. Back on your feet, your eyes darted around the room as you paused momentarily. 

After taking a second to make sure you didn’t hear the sound of running footsteps, coming to check on your unfortunately loud escapades, you made your way to the next phase of your plan. There was a bar on the far wall that you’d spotted as you’d watched the kidnapper circle you. Which, if you were correct in your assumptions and just a little lucky, would contain all kinds of implements you could use. 

Scurrying to the back of the bar was awkward with your hands tied, but you couldn’t waste any time. Your breathing was coming quickly and erratically, which some part of you could tell you wasn’t a good thing, but that was the least of your issues currently. The bar top was worryingly clear, but a moment of clarity reminded you that on a boat everything would be stored until needed so it didn’t slide around or fall. 

Clumsily, you turned, fingers scrabbling blindly around behind you for the drawer pulls. A moment of panic when the drawer didn’t open, but again. Boat. The drawers were latched by a simple twist of the knob

Could this be any more unnecessarily fucking complicated? you thought belligerently, but finally the drawer popped open. 

As if the universe had heard you, the first drawer you opened had exactly what you were looking for. The first thought you’d had was to maybe cut the ties, but there was no way to safely hold a knife (and no physical way to hold scissors with how your hands were) and provide enough pressure to cut the thick plastic. Instead, even though it would be tricky to do behind your back, you figured your best bet was to pick the locking mechanism. 

And in front of you, neatly organized in the drawer, was all the cocktail making paraphernalia. Everything metal, of course, because somehow you had fancy fucking kidnappers. Your eyes focused in on the metal cocktail picks, the length convenient for maneuvering in your ungainly held hand, and the pin ending perfect for shimming the lock of the zip ties. 

Quickly fumbling your fingers around ties, you felt for where the connection was, checking which side the head of the tie was on. That was the part that had the locking mechanism in, where the teeth of the tail end slid through to hold the ties in place. The lock was a lock only in the most general sense, more just a small tab of plastic, designed to only let one way movement as it caught on the teeth. However, with the right tool, you could push that tab down, allowing for two way movement. 

The right tool, you were very much hoping, was the metal cocktail pick that you now picked up behind your back. In your rush, you almost immediately dropped the first one, and a colorful string of cuss words slipped quietly out of your mouth. Thankfully, there were 6 of the things, but hopefully you wouldn’t need that many. Taking more time now, you carefully picked another up, then turned so you could look over your shoulder in the mirror behind the bar. 

Slow, deep breaths, to calm your shaking hands, forcing yourself to make precise, intentional movements. There was no romanticizing the process, it was awkward and inelegant. The pick slipped in your hands more times than you could count, not quite catching on the tab. The ties were tight around your wrists, digging in and angry red marks. At one point you accidentally tightened the cuffs, only by the tiniest margin, but it was enough to cause your heart to stutter. You were much more careful after that, and that care gave you the accuracy to finally get the pick in, rested on the tab, and the correct angle to apply pressure on it. 

You held your breath as you felt the give in the plastic, unable to risk fucking this up. Gingerly, you rotated your wrists, gripping the pick with white knuckles to keep it in place as you felt the plastic slip, creating more space for your hands to move. With great care, you slowly, methodically, pulled your wrists apart. The pick slipped out of your fingers, running out of the length of metal as you fed it through your fingers to keep pressure on. But it was enough. 

There was stinging pain around your wrist as you frantically tried to pull your hands through the still connected zip tie. It was lose, but not enough that you could easily drop the cuff. But that didn’t matter any more, you were so focused and determined that you would take all the pain if that meant you could get free. After a few panicked moments, you felt the give, one of your hands slipping free, and the plastic falling away. 

All the bones in your body went to jelly and you slumped against the countertop, breathing heavily. Freedom. From your restraints, at least. Rotating your shoulders and wrists, you allowed the relief to flood your system, just for a few moments. You certainly didn’t have time to allow too many luxuries, but you used that moment of respite to hold on to the relief, the pride you felt in yourself for getting this far, the hope you had. It bolstered you, fortified the belief that you had that this was the right choice, and you were getting yourself the fuck out of here.

Now more easily able to move you rifled through the remaining drawers, coming up with a plan as you went. The concept of making molotov cocktails with the liquor bottles came briefly to mind, but they were hard to control and predict, and the last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a burning ship in the middle of the ocean at night. 

A knife and a measure of surprise was your best option, you decided. There was a drawer full of knifes, presumably for cutting fruit and some such. Unfortunately, none of them were particularly large, as it wasn’t a kitchen set up, but you snagged one that was about 4.5 inches, the blade wicked and the sharp point at the end looking promising. It would do, it would have to, because there was no going back at this point. 

A noise from outside startled you, wide eyes darting to look at the door. A couple seconds passed, and nothing happened, but it forced you into action. Rounding the bar again you scurried to the door. Thankfully this was a one way in one way out room, so as you pressed your back to the wall next to the door, you felt confident you weren’t going to be snuck up on. You’d chosen the side that the door would open in to. Hopefully they wouldn’t bust into the room with force, sending the door flying into you, instead they it would afford you precious seconds of them not seeing you. 

If everything went right, they would open the door, with you concealed behind it, and enter the room, allowing you to surprise them from behind. 

Plan in place, you allowed your eyes to close, head lolling back against the wall. There was a moment of pain, reminding you of the situation and the disastrous state of your body. But you breathed through the pain, trying to center yourself, relax your body and prepare for what was going to come. One thing at a time. This was the next step, once through this, maybe more information would come to light and you could continue with the escape. Maybe you could find a radio, contact the authorities. Were there authorities here? Wasn’t there something about other ships having to render aid to those in danger? 

Voices. Voices outside in the corridor. Eyes snapping open, you dropped low, crouching on the floor. People have a tendency to not look down, or up, initially, and as up wasn’t an option you were hoping being below eye level would give you some more surprise. Footsteps approached, getting louder as they got closer, matching the seemingly deafening drum of your heartbeat. Now or never. 

The handle of the door twisted, and everything seemed to slow down, seconds dragging out into minutes. The door opened, not too far, and a foot appeared, momentarily followed by its pair. Apparently that was the moment that they noticed the mess, because the man suddenly stopped, directly in front of you, hissing something to his friend in a foreign language. The other man was still in the doorway, but you could see enough to see that the one in front of you was the one who had spoke to you before, the one who had hit you, and you had absolutely no compunction with what happened next.

Gripping the knife firmly in your fist, you used all your force to propel yourself forwards, driving the knife to the hilt into the back of his knee. 

There was a horrible squelching sound before all other noise was drowned out by the bellow of pain from the man. The noises served to speed everything around you back up from the slow-mo, now everything was moving at double time, adrenaline fueling your movements more than conscious thought. As you looked up, you pinged on the holstered gun on the mans hip that was now at eye level. 

The man tipped forward, hands coming to grip his leg as he started to fall, both him and the other man yelling. Letting go of the knife, now uselessly buried in his leg, you reached for the gun. Hand wrapping around the grip, the mans momentum down almost serendipitously pulled the gun from his own holster, leaving it snug in your hand. He was no longer a threat, unarmed and injured, so you twisted on your knee to face the other man in the doorway. 

As you rotated, you caught sight of him as he went for his own weapon, pulling it from the waistband of his pants and bringing it around to aim at you. Without a second to think, you reacted, raising your new gun, pulling the trigger twice, as you’d been taught. Double tap, always, to make damn fucking sure the guy was going down, because if you got to the point of shooting once, you might as well shoot twice because there better be a good reason you need him dead. 

Both shots hit true, the first into the spot where his heart was, the second going higher, into his shoulder, as you didn’t account of the recoil the second time. The force unbalanced you, pushing you off kilter and you scrambled backwards to your feet, gun still aimed even as you watched the man collapse like a sack of potatoes. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you whispered to yourself, but before you could process, your attention was drawn to the man on the floor as he groaned. 

Whipping around you aimed at him, meeting his gaze. He snarled at you, hands still wrapped around his rapidly bleeding leg.

“Stupid fucking bitch,” he hissed, rage filled eyes holding yours. “You gonna shoot me too, little girl?” He laughed humorlessly when you didn’t immediately reply. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m fucking leaving,” you finally reply, brain catching up. “Fuck you,” you added for good measure.  

“Good luck, you’ll be dead in minutes. I should’ve shot you in the first place, but theres plenty of people here who will do that for me,” he spat back, then paused as you both heard another, more ominous sound. 

Gunshots, muffled, even through the open door. Two, to your left towards the front of the boat, then another few that you couldn’t keep track of. No answering fire, but it was enough to practically stop your heart. 

“That’s probably them now,” he continued talking. The guy didn’t know when to shut the fuck up, because if he closed his mouth for a second and thought about it, why the hell would his men be shooting at each other? “I’ll enjoy watching this. Or maybe I should tell them not to shoot you so that I can have some revenge, hm?”

You’d completely tuned the man out, he wasn’t the threat here. Whatever was out there was, and you brought the gun up, aimed at the door. Without any better ideas, you backed up slowly, creating space as if that could protect you. Quiet footsteps tapped down the hallway, moving with purpose towards you. Panic licked at your brain, threatening to overwhelm you. This hadn’t been part of the plan. Admittedly, the plan hadn’t exactly been very well thought out or all encompassing, but it had hinged on you sneaking around covertly, picking people off individually as necessary. Not fucking going head to head to definitely armed, probably dangerous unknown assailants. 

The footsteps stopped just outside the door and you took a breath, tightening your finger just slightly on the trigger so the smallest amount of pressure would shoot the gun, trying to ignore the shake in yours hands. Silence reigned, nothing but the steady, albeit fast, tap of your heartbeat to listen to. Another moment passed, the only movement from the fucker on the ground, a groan from him when he shifted, but you eyes stayed glued on the door. 

An explosion of movement, two men entering the door almost simultaneously, rifles raised. It took a millisecond for you to process, but thankfully your brain caught up before you finished pulling the trigger. 

Because suddenly, Gaz was staring at you, saying you name, a look of incredulity on his face that was presumably mirrored on yours as you aimed at one another. Time seemed to stop once again as the two of you tried to make sense of the weird fucking situation you found yourselves in. He recovered more quickly than you did though, lowering the rifle and glancing around the room, moving to clear the room. 

His movement to break eye contact broke the bubble you were in, and your eyes slid over to the other man in the doorframe, meeting the now very familiar gaze of John. The staring problem hadn’t fixed itself apparently, as all you could do was look at him, watch as he lowered his rifle, catalogue the way he looked in full tactical gear. Slowly, you lowered the pistol in your hands as he started towards you with measured, even steps. 

Everything John did as he moved, he did with a purpose, worried about spooking you. He didn’t know exactly what you’d been through, but the dead body and very injured man on the floor, combined with the concerning look on your face told him enough. It was like you were looking at him without seeing him, but he held eye contact with you as he came to a stop in front of you. 

“Hey, love,” he said, voice low, taking care to not be too close to you so you didn’t feel crowded. 

You blinked at his words, and it was like he watched a switch flip, you coming back to yourself as you heard his familiar voice. Head tipped up to keep looking at him as he drew closer, your body felt wooden and uncomfortable, but your brain finally caught up and your heart felt like it jumped into your throat. 

“Fuck, its good to see you,” you choked out around the lump, throwing your arms around his body as you let yourself feeling something other than the desperate urge to survive. 

John’s arms immediately came up, wrapping you in the bear hug that you’d fallen so in love with. If his gear dug into your face and body, you didn’t feel it, you whole body and soul melting into the warmth and comfort that being close to John provided. Annoyingly you started to feel tears prick at your eyes, the emotions of the day bubbling over now you felt safe in his arms. 

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” he said, voice rumbling through your bones once more. One hand slid from your back to your face, cupping your chin with his palm and wiping one betraying tear from your cheek with his thumb. 

“I know, shit, sorry,” you laughed brokenly, “I’ve kept it together all day, I don’t know why I’m falling apart now.” 

“It’s understandable, love, don’t apologize. Whatever you need, I’ve got you now.” 

Dropping your head back on his chest, you held him tight, and he held you gently squeezed tighter, returning the gesture. The feeling of him close was what you needed, grounding you to the real world. The world where you didn’t need to protect yourself anymore, at least for now. Your hands scratched at his back gently, or at least one of them did, which reminded you that you still had a pistol in the other. 

“Uh, you probably want this, don’t you,” you said, drawing back from Johns chest and awkwardly raising the gun to him.

“Only if you want to get rid of it,” he replied, glancing around the room. “Looks like you’re plenty good with it, keep it if it makes you feel better.” 

You made a non-committal noise at that, not sure what exactly you wanted to do, but you winced at the sight of the people on the ground. At some point, the guy on the floor had conveniently shut up, thanks to Gaz you had to imagine as he seemed to be unconscious and tied up now. But the sight of them reminded you of another uncomfortable thought.

“What about the rest of the people on the ship?” you said with alarm. “Theres got to be more, I don’t know how many but-“ 

“We’ve got it covered, the rest of my team are clearing the ship,” he reassured you, hand sliding up and down your arm comfortingly. “No need to worry.” John shot you that sweet, small smile you thought was so cute, and you breathed a little easier. 

“We’ll have to talk about all this shit later, but for now we just wanted to get you out of here,” he added. 

“Already not looking forward to that,” you grimaced, and caught Gaz’ eye as you did. 

“Nice to see you in one piece,” he said, a smile on his face. 

“Nice to be in one piece,” you replied, shaking your head, resorting to familiar humor. 

John and Gaz made brief eye contact, and must have had an understanding because John turned to keep watch and Gaz came to you, embracing you in a huge hug of his own. You returned the gesture, and both of you gave each other a quick squeeze, as if reassuring each other that it really was ok. 

A noise in the corridor had both of the men tensing, John very gently encouraging you behind him with one hand, bringing his rifle up immediately after. Gaz raised his gun too, and you followed suit slowly, struggling to stop your heart rate from sky rocketing again at the prospect of this nightmare not being over. 

“We come in peace!” A Scottish voice came from outside the door, and John and Gaz noticeably relaxed. Following their lead, you forced your tense muscles to relax again, lowering the pistol to your side. 

“All clear out there?” John asked as the three of you were joined by two new men, one sporting a Mohawk, the other with his face covered by a skull mask. 

Fascinated, you watched John interact with the men, the cool, calm, collected Captain on full display. They talked briefly about the ship, what they’d found, and the plan going forward as you watched silently, admiring the way John handled everything. It was clear, just from that small interaction, that these men respected and trusted him, letting him problem solve and make final decisions, but giving their own input and support without fear of reprisal. 

John stepped back and wrapped an arm around your waist, not wanting to spend any more time not touching you, and made introductions. The guy with the Mohawk was Soap, the one who Gaz had mentioned before. Soap beamed at you while Price told you that the one with the mask was Ghost, who merely glanced at the gun in your hand, then the men on the floor, then gave you a sharp nod. 

“Nice to meet you, lass, we’ve been dying to meet the gal who can actually put up with the captain,” Soap grinned and you returned the expression, through the sharp jolt of pain in your cheek.

“Trust me, its a burden but I’m happy to bear it,” you teased back. Soap laughed, and John groaned next to you. 

“I already regret introducing you to these idiots,” he said, but the squeeze on your waist comforted you. 

“Time to get going, Cap,” Ghost said, looking up from his watch, the first thing you’d heard him say. 

“‘Course,” John nodded, “After you.” 

Soap and Ghost went first, John next to you, then Gaz followed up the rear as you made your way through the ship. The thing was as big as you’d first thought as you made your way along the length of the railing along the side. It was bitterly cold too, and you couldn’t help but shiver. 

“Sorry I don’t have anything for you,” John said into you ear, and you glanced up at him. 

“A heroic rescue is better than a jacket, thank you,” you told him with a quick smile. 

“There’ll be something for you on the boat on the way back to the coast, but we have to get there in this first,” he replied, coming to a stop in front of a dinghy attached to the back of the yacht. He paused, quietly adding, “How’re you doing otherwise?”

Soap and Ghost started to prep to board the boat, Gaz moving around you to help and John turned to face you, hands coming up to grip your upper arms. Tempting as it was to just assure him everything was ok, you took a second to actually formulate a real response, knowing that he deserved one. 

 “A lot of things hurt. I think I have a broken rib, at least, along with the bruises and everything,” you replied, gesturing to your face that you were sure was a mess of purple. “And I’m currently thinking I must be in shock of some kind because the only tangible thing I can think is that this is really doing it for me,” you added with a grin, waving your hand up and down his body, indicating his body. Because really, did this full tactical, lethal look he was sporting have to be so damn attractive? 

That got a genuine bark of laughter out of him, eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’ll keep that in mind for later,” he chuckled, and slowly ran his hands up your arms to cup your face ever so gently around your bruises, leaning in closer. “This OK? I know you’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want to rush you…” 

“John, there’s nothing I want more,” you replied, and you rolled up onto your toes, bridging the distance to kiss him. 

It was possibly the most tame kiss the two of you had shared, both of you moving gingerly to not hurt your bruised face even more. But the second his lips touched yours, any remaining doubt and worry slipped away, losing yourself to the knowledge that John was here, and he’d do everything he could to keep you safe. 

“C’mon, love birds, before we all freeze to death,” Gaz called from his spot half way over the railing, ready to help you down. 

Regretfully, you and John spilt apart, but not before he dropped a quick kiss on your forehead, eyes twinkling. With a little help from Gaz and John, you found yourself in the boat, and John made himself comfortable as close to you as he physically could, settling in for a short but miserably cold ride to your destination. 

Chapter Text

An hour later, and you were trying to tell the doctor who kept fussing over you that you were fine, to no avail. Which you had to admit, was getting kind of annoying. John and the boys had brought you back to a British military ship that had been operating nearby when they sort of hijacked it to help you. The Royal Navy had been very accommodating, letting them come out here by helicopter, and then allowing them use the ship as a base for the moment. Unfortunately, the helicopter couldn’t stay, (though you couldn’t really complain with how nice they’d been) so you were stuck here for now until the boat hit land, dealing with a doctor who was blessedly and annoyingly thorough. 

He’d kept you stuck here, wanting to go over every detail of your injuries as you sat on the edge of an examination table. The room was small, and windowless, dominated by the bed and the desk the doctor was hunched over, all metal walls and sharp edges that never let you forget you were somewhere int he belly of a ship. Your condition was about as bad as you’d thought, though it could have been an awful lot worse. Concussion, broken ribs, bruises everywhere, stitches on your head and cheek, sprained shoulder and wrists, one broken finger… But everything would heal over time. Just had to contend with being extremely sore, not to mention black and blue, for the next few weeks. 

Unfortunately, you thought, as you sat on the edge of the bed silently, waiting for the doctor to fill out yet more paperwork after giving you another round of pain meds, you had a feeling that the mental scarring would take a hell of a lot longer to heal than the physical wounds. That was pretty much all you could think about since you’d arrived at the ship and John had had to reluctantly leave to debrief. Obviously, the pain management had helped, but throughout the treatment you just felt numb, replaying everything that had transpired, occasionally flinching when the doctor did something particularly painful or you remembered the fact that you had killed someone. 

”Hey, love,” John said, and you looked up from the spot you’d been drilling in the floor with your gaze as the door clicked open and he entered the tiny med bay, crowding the room with his presence. He still wore the tactical gear from before, his thumbs hooked in the vest he wore. Your eyes flicked over him quickly, cataloguing everything from the gun on his hip to the boonie hat on his head.

“Hey back,” you smiled at him, trying to control the face you wanted to make when the doctor immediately hopped up at the sound of his voice. 

“How’re you feeling?” John asked, coming to the side that the doctor wasn’t occupying. 

“Could be-” 

“Sir, she’s got several injuries, but nothing life threatening,” the doctor interrupted, flipping a chart open. “Concussion, multiple stitches, broken-.” 

“Stop,” John said, holding a hand up, leveling a look at the well meaning yet slightly annoying doctor. “I didn’t ask you.” There was the special forces Captain voice.

“I, uh, sorry, Sir.” The doctor looked, to you, appropriately put down, and you lowered your head to look at your hands in your lap so neither man could see your small smirk. 

“No need to apologize. Any chance we could have the room?” John asked, kind but firm. 

“Of course, I’ll be in my office.” The doctor turned to you, remembering himself and his role. “I know I gave you medication already, but if anything starts to hurt more than you think it should, or anything feels like it shouldn’t, tell me immediately. I’m here for you.” He managed a smile, and you could see the sincerity and care there. It was just packaged a little roughly. 

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile of your own, suddenly you and John were alone. 

There was a moment of slight awkwardness, John refraining from getting closer to you, unsure where the two of you stood, and not entirely sure how bad or where you were hurt, or how to avoid exacerbating that. Deeper than that, there was the nagging thought that he couldn’t help but feel responsible, for leaving you alone, for not seeing the signs. 

Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop thinking about how normal the last time you’d seen him was, and how different the circumstances you’d now found yourselves in were. 

“I’m sure I look absolutely awful right now,” you sighed, breaking the silence with something innocuous. Unfortunately, you’d caught a glimpse of yourself in a mirror earlier, and you had a motley arrangement of bruises, that the stitches probably hadn’t helped. The doctor, in the midst of his ministrations, had at least been thoughtful enough to clean the blood off of you and provided a change of clothes though, so you had that going for you. 

“Trust me, you could look any way you wanted to, and I’d just be happy to see you,” John replied, sounding confident in that, yet a little unsure in himself. “Mind if I sit?”

“No need to ask permission,” you gave him a small smile. 

“How’re you actually feeling, love?” he asked, settling next to you on the thin mattress of the bed, his thigh just barely brushing yours. It hurt a little that he didn’t feel comfortable around you, but you tried to put it to the back of your mind, along with everything else. 

“Well… the pain meds are helping,” you said dryly, looking back down at your hands. “Like the doctor said, it could be worse.” 

“None of which answers my question,” he said, and you looked up at him, hearing the worry in his voice. You opened your mouth to shoot back a thoughtless answer, not wanting to talk about it anymore, but you paused as you met his gaze, the deep depths of the blue showing a myriad of emotions. 

“When I breathe it feels like I’m getting stabbed in the lungs. I’m worried I look terrible with the bruising everywhere, which is stupid because realistically I know that should be the last thing on my mind,” you said quietly. “And every time the boat moves, I feel kind of nauseous and I don’t know if its because of the concussion or because it reminds me of the other boat and the fact that I shot someone on it.” 

You held John’s eye contact for a moment longer, but you couldn’t bare to see his reaction to that confession, and you looked away, idly cataloging what was on the bedside table as you added, “And I need to know where you stand in all of this before we talk any more. I get it if its classified, but I… did my dad set you up to this?” You gestured between the two of you vaguely. 

“What?” he asked, sounding genuinely lost for a second. 

“The guy on the boat. He was rambling a little, but he said you were at the museum that day because of my dad, and you were involved, and I just need to know if this was all just a set up, if, I don’t know, my dad told you to get close to me, or you were lying about not knowing him, or…” you broke off slowly, realizing you were talking an awful lot as John very slowly, projecting his actions, moved his hand, wrapping it around yours where they were still wringing in your lap. 

There was a deep sigh from the man next to you before he spoke.

“I can’t tell you everything, and I’m truly sorry for that, I can’t imagine how hard it will be for you to trust me. But I promise you, nothing like that happened. I was never even supposed to be involved with any of this, I just happened to be in the area when shit went down. Because it wasn’t my operation, I didn’t need to know anything other than immediate details. I had an anonymous handler the whole time I was involved, and until you went missing I didn’t know that your father and this handler were the same person.”

John’s thumb started to move, tracing back and forth over your knuckles, and you stared at it, transfixed as you processed his words. 

“Even when you left that morning?” 

“Even then. We thought we’d wrapped up and got everyone. I was doing paperwork, but something wasn’t adding up, I could see it if even with the limited information I had.” John sighed heavily, squeezing your hand. “Call it intuition after too many years doing this job. And then I got a phone call, from your dad.”

“After I got kidnapped?”

John made a small, slightly pained, noise of agreement, and you finally looked back up at him. The worry and exhaustion looked like a physical weight on him, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual, his beard slightly longer and more unkempt. You vaguely worried if he’d slept since you left. 

“He told me who he was, the connections and more details, and everything fell into place.” As you watched, his free arm arm flexed up, pulling the hat off off of his head, setting it down next to him, then raising again to run the fingers through his hair. The gesture somehow even looked as tired and stressed as he did. 

“So he knew who you were?” you asked, wanting to hear the words even though it felt a little redundant. The pain of his potential betrayal felt like a stone had been dropped in your gut, but at least John hadn’t been a part of it. 

“I’m sorry, love, I wish I could tell you no, but I don’t know the real answer to that. You’ll have to ask him. But if it makes you feel any different, he moved heaven and hell to get you back. Its not everyday you know someone who can reroute a destroyer at a whim with enough firepower to destroy a small country.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” you said with a small laugh and smile. Shit, that was going to be a hell of a conversation. Sighing, you looked off into the middle distance, contemplating everything and your next words. “Thank you. For telling me. I knew when we started this there would be an awful lot you couldn’t tell me. So I appreciate it.” 

And you did. This wasn’t an easy conversation to have, for either of you, you were sure. He seemed almost as tired as you did as well, both of your voices and demeanors quiet and subdued. 

Gently, John took your other hand, twisting the both of you on the bed so you could face one another finally. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, truly. I want to tell you everything, and even though I can’t, what I can do is promise you that from now on, I’ll tell you absolutely everything I can. Because this, between us? Is absolutely real, I’m sorry I ever gave you cause to doubt it. I’ve never felt like this about anyone,” John took a deep, steadying breath. “And I seriously hope I haven’t fucked this all up by letting this happen to you.” 

“What?” it was your turn to sound confused. 

“I should have been there, should have seen it sooner,” John sighed, looking down at your joined hands. 

“It wasn’t your fault, you just said so yourself,” you told him, reaching one of hands up to tilt his chin back up so you could look him in the eye again, feeling the coarseness of his beard in your palm. “I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“At least that makes one of us,” he smiled at you, not quite reaching his eyes to crinkle them in the way you liked so much. “And aren’t I supposed to be the one comforting you?” 

“Plenty of time for that to come,” you replied, matching his half smile. 

“No time like the present, then,” he replied, the confidence returning to his voice. “We have about 3 hours before we reach land. Not many options unfortunately, but what would make you feel better?” 

It only took a couple seconds for you to decide. Scooting back further into the genuinely tiny bed, you gingerly maneuvered yourself around the broad form of John as he raised an eyebrow, watching you carefully. Slowly, so you could feel out the spots that hurt before putting your weight fully on them, you laid down on your side, one hand tucked under your head on the pillow. 

Giving him the brightest smile you could muster, you patted the open spot next to you. 

“Ok, love,” John chuckled, “Just one second.” You watched his back, slightly confused as he took the couple steps to the door, stepping out. If he actually left you’d eat your, or his, hat, so you weren’t too worried, especially when he almost immediately returned, closing the door behind him. 

“Just wanted to talk to the doc and make sure he’d leave us alone until were almost to land.” He kicked off his boots as he sat, swiping the hat onto the bedside table, and unclipped his gun and vest to deposit them on the floor. Then he swung his legs up onto the bed, leaning back to the worlds worst pillow with a quiet groan. 

“And I thought I was the one supposed to be making noises like that,” you teased, wrapping one arm around his trim waist. 

“Just getting old, love,” he laughed quietly, tucking his arm under your head and resting a hand on your side when you lifted your head to make room for him. You practically stretched like a cat, pushing into the warmth of his body. 

“Remind me to tease you about that comment when I feel less like shit,” you mumbled into his pec, you head moving slightly as he laughed. 

“Whatever you want, love.” John’s other hand came to wrap around your arm on his stomach, his actions very gentle and careful, making sure not to put more than the lightest pressure on you, very concerned about hurting you more. 

The two of you lapsed into quiet as you got even more comfortable, hooking one of your legs over his thick thigh, and adjusting you body minutely to get more comfortable. The broken rib was not happy, but at least you were on the opposite side of it, and the doctor must have given you the good shit, cause everything was slightly fuzzy. 

It was finally a comfortable silence between the two of you, all the demons and worries quietened by bringing them into the light. John was still awake, but his breathing slowed, mind calmed by the fact that he had you back in his arms, safe and whole. He didn’t quite know how he was going to ever let you out of his sight again, but that was a bridge he could cross when you got to it, he thought as he gently ran the tips of his fingers up and down your forearm on his stomach. 

Your thoughts were a little more scrambled than his, try as you might to calm down. Being close to him was helping as much as you had hoped it would, the warm mass of muscle and confidence that you were cuddled up to providing comfort. But as you watched his hands moved, you just couldn’t get your mind to quiet, instead replaying the actions of the boat on a loop. Truly, you didn’t know where the ability to get through that ordeal had come from, and now you were on the other side, any of that strength had drained right out of you. 

“Everything ok, love? Anything hurt? I can get the doctor…” John asked, pressing a kiss into your hair, conscious that your breathing and heart rate hadn’t seemed to slow at all. 

You didn’t answer right away, and he started to worry something actually was wrong when you spoke. 

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to get over this,” you said into his chest, not wanting to face him. “Mentally, I mean.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, his hand reaching up from your waist to run through your hair. 

“I killed someone, John, and I know it was the right thing, and I’d do it again. I’m sure its just another Tuesday for you, but I can’t get the image out of my head.” 

“You’re so strong, love, it’ll take time but I have absolutely no doubt that you’ll find what works for you. We can find it together, if you’d like that.” His hand just kept gently stroking your hair, soothing in the repetitive motion. 

Again, you took the time to grant him a real answer, staring at his hand in front of you, resting on his chest. 

“I’d like that. But there’s some stuff I have to do alone, and its going to take time.” 

“As you said, plenty of time for that,” he replied, kissing your hair again. 

This time, when silence fell, you brain did finally shut up, and it wasn’t long before you drifted off to sleep, John wrapped around you. 

——

John had woken you up gently a couple of hours later, with soothing motions on your skin, kissing you on the temple. Warily, you stretched as you regained consciousness, wincing as you reacquainted yourself with all the aches and pains. Ever watchful, John noted your expression and told you he was going to get the doctor, giving you the sweetest, gentlest kiss before slipping out the door. 

And then the doctor came and went, giving you another dose of painkillers, a warning that you needed to be careful, and a follow up schedule, as well the number of a local military doctor who wouldn’t ask awkward questions. John hovered in the doorway as the doctor talked, thankfully not having to intervene this time.

After all that, John informed you there had been a change of plans, and instead of this ship coming to port they’d decided you’d take a smaller one back to land. You weren’t far from the shore though, so it wouldn’t be too hard of a journey, and quite frankly you didn’t give a shit anymore how it was accomplished, you just wanted to have your feet on solid ground again. 

Which was how you found yourself stepping off a 30 foot coast guard ship onto a dock. Briefly, you thought about dramatically dropping to your knees and kissing the ground, but decided that would probably hurt too much in your current state, so you refrained. 

The day was miserable, which somehow felt fitting. The skies were grey, rain threatening, and the cold made you shiver as you climbed the steps to the main staging area from the dock. John’s hand rested on your waist, a solid presence next to you as you followed Gaz, Soap and Ghost behind you talking quietly to each other, Soap’s laugh occasionally making an appearance. 

As you crested the stairs you found yourself looking at what looked like, to be honest, a bit of a run down car park. Which you supposed made sense, with the change in boats you weren’t going to a military base anymore, and this looked remote enough to not have many visitors. Several black government cars lined the spaces across from you, and to your left and right there were two guards each at the exit and entrance of the area, dressed in black. They didn’t look particularly concerned though, talking to one another as they watched the main road, which somehow helped to calm you. If they weren’t worried, then you wouldn’t be either. 

There was a group of five by the cars, and at your approach one of them broke off, a figure you recognized immediately turning to stride towards you. Grey hair, almost white (but a full head of it still as he liked to remind you when you teased him), a strong jaw and a build that spoke of strength and hardships, now slightly softened by age. 

“You told me you were retired,” you accused loudly, pointing a finger at your dad as you picked up speed towards him, anger sparking, the emotion easier to process and grasp on to than a lot of the other ones you were struggling with. 

“I-,” he blinked, obviously not expecting the storm that you were brewing. “Thats not important. Darling, are you OK? Are you hurt?” he tried to dismiss your comment, cataloguing the injuries to your face as you drew closer. 

“No, you don’t get to do that. It is important,” you replied, drawing ahead of Gaz and Price as they dropped back. “This is not the kind of thing that happens if you’re retired!” 

The two of you came to a stop in front of each other, emotions churning in your gut. The 141 gave you some space, stopping a few feet behind.

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” he soothed, sighing deeply, and you deflated slightly at how quickly he came around to your side. “We need to talk about everything, openly and properly.” 

“Everything,” you replied, giving him a sharp look. Your childhood had been a struggle at times, with your dad trying to behave with you as he did at work, but moments like this proved that all the effort was worth it and he’d learned to actually listen to you. 

“I promise,” he said, meeting your eyes without any hesitation. “We can talk about it right now if you’d like, but if you’re ok with it I’d rather do that later. Because I have been out of my mind worried about my daughter, and I would really like to give her a hug right now.” 

“You promise?” you said after a moments hesitation. 

“I promise,” he reassured you, voice soft and steady. 

With those quiet words, you broke, flinging yourself into the comforting arms of your dad. He responded immediately, wrapping you up tightly, and the warmth seeped into your bones, familiar and loving. You stayed like that for a while, sinking into the quiet moment of true peace. 

Gently, you pulled back, and your dad gripped your upper arms to get a good look at you. 

“Seriously, are you alright?” he asked, more quietly and calmly than before. 

“A bit bumped and bruised,” you shrugged, with a small smile. “But I’ll be OK.”

“I’m so sorry that this happened to you, darling, more than I can ever tell you,” he shook his head, hands and eyes lowering, shame in his voice and on his face. 

“I can’t tell you I’m not astronomically pissed at you,” you sighed, a small, breathy chuckle leaving you slightly reluctantly. “Obviously. But it’ll be alright. We’ll be alright. I’m ok, I love you.” 

“I love you too, darling. You know,” he said, meeting your eyes again with another small shake of his head, “I feel like a complete fuck up currently, but I must have done something right to end up with a daughter like you.” 

A real, genuine, bark of laughter broke free from you at his cussing, and your dad watched over you shoulder as John turned slightly from where he was talking with his team, smiling at your reaction. 

“I can tell you for certain I would never have made it out of that if it wasn’t for you,” you told him, then made a face. “Probably wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place though. So I guess we’re even.” 

“Far from it, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you dad said, then nodded behind you. “About time I met that boy of yours, don’t you think?” 

You started to protest, but it was too late as you dad called out, “Captain? A word.” 

“Be nice,” you hissed in the absence of time to think of anything better to say, slightly panicked at the concept of this whole situation, but attempting to remind yourself that you were an adult and this should not be so scary.

John stopped next to you, and you resisted the urge to lean into his comforting warmth, just looking up out the side of your eye and returning the small smile he gave you. 

“So you’re Price, eh lad? I’ve heard a lot about you,” you dad said, ignoring the way you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“And I you, sir,” John replied, inclining his head. You had full confidence John would be nothing but respectful, and probably win over your dad the way he won over you. But your heart hadn’t got with the program, you pulse beating a drum inside your veins.

“Though not from my daughter, sadly,” you dad said with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes at him. “But its clear you care about her.” 

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for her,” John said, his eyes glued to your dad despite you gawking at him. 

“Obviously,” you mumbled under your breath after a moment, thinking about what he’d just done for you. Absently, you picked at your nails, the movement driven by stress.

Good, good,” your dad hummed pensively, almost to himself. Louder, he added, “As would I. She deserves it.” 

“Couldn’t agree more.” John’s sure, steady tone made your stomach do flips, and your cheeks flamed bright red. The world feeling like it was both getting smaller and simultaneously exploding around you, but somehow the men still didn’t seem to notice. 

“Beyond that, I’m sure that when I’m able to extricate myself from my personal involvement in this, I’ll find that you accomplished a stellar operation too. So, as a father and a supervisor, you have my congratulations, and my thanks. You and your team.” 

“Thank you, sir. I’ll make sure they know.” 

“You do that. And don’t worry about the sir part. I’m supposed to be retired,” he said wryly, and you somehow managed to narrow your eyes and roll them at the same time. “And it seems like we’ll be seeing more of each other.” He nodded at you, finally acknowledging your presence again. 

“Hopefully under better circumstances,” John said, glancing down at you with a small smile on his face. 

“We can only hope,” you quipped, rejoining the conversation. 

A couple of cold drops of rain started to soak through your hair, a couple more falling into your collar, the cool water making you shiver. Your dad held out a hand, the drizzle misting over his skin. Between the crashing seas behind you, the grey skies coating the misty moors in front of you, and now the drizzle, England really was giving you a proper welcome home. 

“You two get going before this really starts,” your dad sighed, shaking the droplets off of his skin. “The two cars on that side have been put aside for you lot, drivers included. I’ll get going on the paperwork, just let you know if I need anything. It’s the least I can do.” 

Now you were functioning a little more normally, instead of on your emotional rollercoaster, you really took stock of your dad. He looked tired. Exhausted really, something you hadn’t noticed the last time you’d seen him. Granted, it’d been a while, but he looked weary, the weight of the world on his shoulders, and in a moment of weakness you took pity on him.

“I’m sorry about early,” you said quietly, taking a small step towards him, resting your hand on his arm. “Just… a lot of emotions and feelings. I am annoyed with you, don’t get me wrong. Bu I’m more grateful for you than anything. Thank you. 

“Rightfully angry, unfortunately,” he sighed, his hand covering yours on his arm. “No need to thank me though. Just doing what any dad would.”

“Just one with connections in all the right places,” you teased, breaking the tension. 

“Doesn’t hurt,” he chuckled. “Might as well call in some of the favors I’ve worked so hard for over the years… I meant what I said about talking. I’ll be in London this week. Let’s meet, talk things over.”

“Deal,” you nodded, dropping your hand from his arm. Another thoguht occured to you. “Does Mum know about all this?” You gestured vaguely to yourself, the team, and the surrounding car park.  

“No,” he sighed again. “Another thing in a long list of things I need to make right. It’s high time I was more honest and open with her.  Go back to how things used to be. So expect a phone call from her.” 

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you replied, genuinely. You hadn’t been hiding things like your dad, but you really needed to be better about calling her. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, darling,” he returned your hug fiercely, the squeeze jostling your injuries, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to actually care. “Get some rest.” He released you slowly, as reluctantly as you did to him. 

He stepped aside, and as you moved forward you saw him and John shake hands in your periphery. You dad mumbled something as they exchanged the gesture, and you watched curiously as John blushed slightly. 

“What was that about?” you asked him curiously as he joined you, the two of you starting to walk to the cars, the rest of 141 following. 

“He uh, thanked me.” John looked mildly confused still and you thrilled at the sight of the large man looking flustered. 

“Thanked you?” you asked, confused yourself.  

“For lov- caring about you. And then might have threatened me slightly,” he shook his head.

You blinked at his almost slip up, knowing exactly what he’d been about to say, but not sure why he’d stopped himself from saying it. The fact that it had been on the tip of his tongue warmed you from the inside though, and gave you hope that maybe he was having the same thoughts that you’d been having lately. But that was a conversation for another day, both of you had been through enough harrowing moments recently, you didn’t need to add more stress. 

“I’ve been waiting for that,” you laughed. “Had to happen eventually, he’s just a tad bit protective.” 

“I can understand why,” he rumbled, sliding an arm around your shoulder. 

The rest of the group had caught up to you, you realized, as a Scottish voice came from your left. “You’re a braver person than I am, lass,” Soap said, and you turned your head to meet his easy, happy blue eyes.

“Oh? How so?” you replied, mouth quirking up at the side at his infectious attitude. 

“Speaking to him like that? He’s not only scary but has the ability to do something about it,” he said, faux full body shuddering. 

“Well, I do have the fact that he’s my dad going for me,” you chuckled, falling easily into teasing him back. 

“Still. Hell of a day today, you did good,” Soap gave you the customary bro head nod. You blushed at his words, thanking him slightly awkwardly, unsure of the correct response to that. 

“You should meet my girlfriend,” he added, forging on before you had a chance to overthink things. “You two could trade secrets about being badasses.” 

“Oh? What does she do?” you asked, almost at the cars now. A small smile tried to fight its way out, but you repressed it along with the excitement that twinged inside you at the concept. That sounded like plans for the future, and you were thrilled at the thought. 

“She’s a special operations pilot,” he said happily, and your eyebrows raised. Ok, that did sound like a badass. 

“Get that dopey look off of yer face,” Ghost grumbled, breaking off from the group to go to the further car. 

“Sorry I have a girlfriend I love,” Soap called out after him. “And sorry he’s a grumpy asshole,” he added to you with a wink as the remaining four of you came to a stop.

“I’ll text you all the information for the hotel,” John cut in before that could get too far out of control. 

“Rog, sir,” Gaz replied, giving you a quick squeeze from the side. “Glad you’re outta that shit show.” 

“Me too,” Soap added. 

“Me three,” you grinned, pleased with how easily you were able to integrate. Except for Ghost, but he seemed like a problem all of his own, so you didn’t take it personally. 

Soap followed Ghost, getting into the car with him, as Gaz came with you and John. Gaz hopped in the front, John opening the back door for you. 

“In you go, love,” he said in that delicious low growling voice of his. He made sure you were safely ensconced before closing the door, then getting in the opposite side. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as he joined you, the car engine starting. 

“Taking you back to your house first, the Gaz is going to the hotel.” 

“Hotel? I hope that’s not because of me? I don’t want to put everyone out, I’m sure they have better places to be.” You worried at your lip, concerned that they’d already done too much for you as it was, even if you were eternally grateful. 

“Standard ops, no worries,” Gaz replied from the front seat. His reassurance did more than John’s ever would have, knowing it wasn’t an order coming from the Captain next to you.

“Exactly,” John comforted, even though it wasn’t exactly true. The team had never had a situation like this before, so there was no ‘standard’, but they’d all readily agreed on it, even though John had given them the option to stay or go. But Gaz’s comment had obviously put you at ease, so he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

As the two cars pulled out of the lot, you watched out of the window, the English countryside flashing past as you listened to Gaz and the driver chat quietly. You half smiled to yourself, admiring his ability to make friends so easily. After a while you found yourself starting to doze off one more, and almost subconsciously you turned, unbuckling yourself, alarming John in the process. But you just slid over quickly, rebuckling yourself into the middle seat, and curled yourself into John’s side, burrowing into the warmth and peace that you found in his presence. Eventually, you fell asleep again, basking in the serenity of the mild sounds around you, and being reunited with John.

Chapter Text

“Oh my goodness, sweetheart, did you miss me? I missed you so much” you told the ball off fluff that was practically vibrating with happiness at your feet.

John watched you gush over Ollie, his heart warming, a small smile playing under his mustache. For the first time since this whole ordeal started, some of the tension that had permeated him finally started to drain away. You were home, you were safe, and he felt like he could breath again.

“You have no idea how hard it is to find a last minute dog sitter in London, who’s also never met the dog, whilst on a SAT phone. On a boat,” he commented after a while, almost absently.

“No, I don’t have any clue,” you agreed, glancing up at him from where you were crouched, “But I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” Seriously, it felt like your heart was about to explode with gratitude.

John shrugged, his broad shoulders stretching his shirt with the movement. “You’d have been devastated if he’d been neglected, even despite your predicament.”

He said the statement like it was no big deal. But it absolutely was a big deal to you. The fact that he’d listened to you well enough to know how much it would mean to you for him to set that up, that he’d done it without asking or complaining, and whilst under immense stress, meant the world. You’d thought John seemed like the kind of thoughtful man who would do something like that, taking things into his own hands without a second thought, but the confirmation gave you even more strong feelings to add to the days pile.

“I would have, and the fact that you not only recognized that, but did something about it means more than I can even say,” you told him, voice wavering just slightly. You were rewarded with the sight of a small blush working its way under John’s beard, a response to your praise and your words. However, alarmingly, you started to feel wetness develop on your cheeks.

“Shit, why am I crying?” you laughed, a choked, confused sound. God all these emotions were a fucking pain in the ass.

“Its bound to happen, love, as today settles,” John said, crouching down next to you, reaching a hand to pet Ollie, who happily accepted more affection. His other one settled gently on your back, a comforting and solid weight and heat, even through your clothes. “Totally natural, lots of big emotions are probably coming as you process.”

“I should probably call a therapist,” you mumbled, mostly to Ollie, only partly joking.

John nodded next to you. “Probably. I’ll get you some names that would understand what’s been going on, and be discreet.” Once again, here he was taking care of your needs without encouragement or judgement. He looked up from the dog at your feet, and you felt the weight of his gaze into the side of your head. “In the meantime, what would you like to do?”

You watched your fingers card through Ollie’s fur as you thought. It was a little overwhelming to make a choice, but you didn’t feel like John was pressing you. It just felt silly to go through the experience that you just had and then just…. What, go back to your everyday, like nothing had happened? But what was the other choice? Let what had happened control the rest of your days? That wasn’t going to happen. Though you definitely needed to get a therapist to talk through these things with if you were having such a hard time coming to terms with them, you thought.

With a groan, you stood, your injuries making themselves known once again, and John followed you up, standing close but not crowding you.

“Be normal,” you said, slightly muted, and reached out a hand to trail down his arm, lightly grasping his fingers in yours for comfort. “Cuddle with you two, watch a movie, order some shitty takeout.” You half laughed at yourself. “Is that weird? Should I be freaking out?”

“Definitely not weird, love. Theres no right or wrong, so if thats what you’re feeling like, thats perfect,” he replied, closing the distance between the two of you. His other hand came up to rest at your waist, and he squeezed your hand. “Whatever you want, whatever you need. I’m here for you.”

Tears sprung back up in your eyes, and you shoved your face into his chest, probably more violently than necessary. John chuckled very softly, the noise resonating in your head as you brought your arms up to hug his waist. He responded, holding you tightly as you just breathed in the comfort of his presence. The two of you stayed like that a while, John letting you enjoy the peaceful strength that just being still and listening to his breathing gave you. Eventually though, your stomach rumbled, and you laughed in surprise.

“Guess the last time I ate was before… everything,” you said into his pec. He really had no right having such a comforting chest.

“Let’s get you that shitty food you asked for than,” John said, pulling back from you slightly so he could look down at you. “Want to choose or want me to so you don’t have to?”

You blinked up at him, thinking how in previous relationships the men would put all the responsibility for day to day choices and decisions on you, then get annoyed at you for not being decisive, instead of seeing that you were just burnt out.

“I’d like to choose, if that’s ok,” you said, the tops of your ears going slightly pink for some reason.

“Of course. Let’s go figure it out, then I can order so you can go shower and get comfy.”

Yeah, you were completely fucked when it came to this man.

———

A couple hours later, there were takeout containers everywhere, and you were cuddled up in a blanket, head on John’s lap. The captain was leaned back, legs kicked out and whole body relaxed as he gently scratched his fingertips over your scalp. Ollie had long ago curled up behind your bent knees, and a movie played on the TV. Continuing his streak of being generally amazing, John had encouraged you to not have to choose what you wanted, and ordered multiple dishes from not one but two places to make sure you could have a taste of everything you were craving. You’d have leftovers for days, but every taste bud and craving was more than satisfied.

Now you were just struggling to stay awake, the comfort of your boys and the couch, as well as the food getting to you slowly. Eventually you yawned, and forced yourself to roll over and actually look at John, much to Ollie’s annoyance. John’s hand followed your movement, pushing your hair out of your face as you twisted.

“I think I need to go to bed, as much as I would rather stay here just like this all night.” You shot him a slightly sad smile, but he smiled, eyes crinkling in the way you liked so much.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t, love, its been a hell of a couple days.”

“You’re staying, right?” you asked, voice smaller than you meant for it to come out.

“You’d have to literally pry me out of here,” he chuckled, “Having a hard time getting the side of me that is overly protective to shut the hell up.”

“Don’t try too hard,” you replied, reaching over and patting the hard planes of his stomach with your hand. “I kind of like it. But I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to,” he said, grasping your hand in his and leaning into you to kiss your knuckles.

With a flush on you face, you rolled all the way over, moving to stand as you couldn’t think of a follow up to that little piece of sweetness. John’s hands hovered, wanting to let you handle it if you wanted but ready to catch you if necessary, which really surmised your relationship and why you liked him as much as you did. His constant, quiet support made you feel like you could do anything, and if you faltered, there he was, ready and waiting to provide whatever he could.

“Lord,” you groaned as stretched to your full height. “I might need a massage to go along with the therapy.” It felt like every damn joint in your back and arms cracked as you raised them over your head in a stretch.

“Maybe I can help with that,” John’s voice rumbled in your ear as he stood too. “I’ve heard I’m pretty good with my hands.”

A flush worked its way rapidly up you neck as you slowly turned to look at him, eyes widening as you glared at him. But there was no malice behind the look as your eyebrow raised, taking in his teasing look. “John Price,” you squeaked in mock indignation.

“When you’re feeling better, of course,” he smirked under his mustache, eyes glittering. He leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his facial hair tickling your still hot skin. “Go get ready for bed, love, I’ll take Ollie out and close everything up.”

“You sure?” you asked, shooting a skeptical look around at the mess.

“Positive,” he replied, and tapped you on your butt. “Shoo.”

Chuckling, you shook your head as you grinned at him, but followed his directions. After giving Ollie a goodnight kiss and cuddle, you slowly worked your way up to the bedroom and into bed. It took a while, your motions stunted and stiff, but eventually you found yourself tucked under the covers, phone in front of your face.

After looking up an actual masseuse, you opened your messages and hesitantly tapped out a message, deleting and rewriting multiple times before you simply settled on a brief I’m home, and safe. Goodnight, love you. It only took a couple seconds before your dad responded in kind, keeping it short and sweet. There would be time to have it all out later, when you weren’t feeling so raw and hurt, when your edges weren’t so frayed. You were still staring at the incoming message, mind starting to spin up and run away with the events that had transpired, when John finally came into the room.

The tightness in your chest eased almost immediately, something that should have probably concerned you slightly. But that was the last thing on your mind as you dropped the phone on your chest, a smile playing on your face.

“Ollie give you any trouble?”

“It took all of my experience, but we figured it out eventually,” he replied, answering the tease in your voice as he turned away from you, facing his bag against the wall.

“I knew all of that stellar career knowledge would come in handy eventually,” you grinned, leaning over to put your phone on the nightstand.

As you rolled back over you were rewarded with the sight of John’s hand reaching behind his neck, pulling his shirt up and off, revealing the tight muscles of his back as he stripped. Eyes wandered over the wide expanse of skin across his broad shoulders, cataloguing the muscles and imperfections which told the story of his life, watching his arms move as he undid his belt and jeans. Now this was much more fascinating than your phone.

“Something interesting, love?” John said, still not looking at you and your eyes went wide as you tried your damndest to compose your face into something innocent looking. Which was particularly hard as he kicked off his boots, sliding his jeans over his ass so he was left in just his boxers.

“Nope, nothing at all,” you stammered, and he winked at you as he turned, headed into the bathroom.

John was slightly concerned, aware he was walking a fine line with the flirting, and putting himself out there a little more than he maybe usually would. But you’d said that you wanted normal. He’d known you long enough to know that you wouldn’t want to be treated like glass either, and though he had absolutely no intentions of initiating anything further, he thought maybe a little flirting would be fun. Hopefully keep your mind on other things. The slightly vacant, haunted look in your eyes when he’d first walked in the bedroom played across his mind as he finished getting ready for bed. Definitely not something he wanted to see, or really knew what to think about. This was far from the first time he’d dealt with hard situations, and the fallout from them, but it was the first time it was someone close, and he was as in the dark about the correct path as you were. All he knew for sure was he would do anything he could to help you.

When he returned to the bedroom you were on your side, curled up with an arm under the pillow, eyes closed. One eye opened to look at him as he turned off the lights, then closed again as you felt his weight dip the other side of the bed. Though your mind just wouldn’t shut up, your body was drained, and there was no fighting the sleep that threatened. The warmth radiating from John’s body reached you first, followed momentarily by the feel of his body next to yours. He stopped, his shoulder and hip just barely grazing your hand and knees, leaving the rest to you.

Carefully, you hooked a leg over his thighs, scooting yourself in closer so you could wrap your arm around his waist, sliding your palm over his belly, feeling the enticing combination of muscles and fat. There was a movement next to your face, and his arm started to gently snake under your head.

“This ok, love?” he rumbled, his low voice worming its way into your head in the way it always did, the sound flowing over your skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You made a responding affirmative noise, and John’s arm tucked you into his chest, your cheek resting on the perfect pillow of his muscle. The warmth of his skin, the soothing rhythm of his breathing, the comforting brush of his callused hands rubbing slow circles on your back… none of it did anything to help your tiredness, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself drifting off.

With a significant amount of effort, you caught yourself just before you succumbed to sleep, picking your head up so you could look at the outline of John’s face in the dark.

“I… you know, today was…” you weren’t sure if it was the amount of emotions you’d been through or the tiredness, but even though you had a clear idea of what you wanted to say you couldn’t get the right words together. So you settled on the simplest form. “Thank you. For everything. I don’t think I can ever repay you, but… Thank you, John.”

There was a moment of silence, and if it wasn’t for his hand moving on your back you would have thought he was asleep and your confession was for nothing. But when he did finally speak, his voice was even more intense than usual, thick and full of emotion.

“Theres nothing to thank me for, love. I would never want you to have to go through something like that, but being able to help you, to get you out of there in one piece… it makes everything that I’ve done in life make sense. I haven’t always known if what I was doing is right, and theres a lot of choices that I’m not proud of, things that haunt me. But if every other decision led me to that moment, and now this one, then it was all worth it.”

John’s arms tightened around you in the dark, and you stared at his profile as best you could, feeling like your chest was too full, all the emotions threatening to burst out of your ribcage in a tidal wave.

“I…” you repeated, but John cut you off with another gentle squeeze.

“It’s been a long day, you should get some sleep,” he murmured, attempting to save you from having to process yet another bombshell. In hindsight, he thought he probably shouldn’t have said something so serious, but the quiet, peaceful moment that the two of you were sharing in the dark got to him. The fact that you even thought you might have to thank him for helping you, something he was honored to do, nestled deep in his chest. It burrowed itself deep into his mile wide protective streak, and he couldn’t just let the comment pass.

Taking the cue that John had so neatly given you, you stayed quiet, instead choosing actions. Gingerly but determinedly, you craned your neck up, resting on one elbow and reaching up with your free hand to cup his cheek, gently drawing his face towards you. The press of your lips against his was sure, the kiss saying more than either of you could find words for in that moment. The two of you melted together as time froze for a second, two people becoming one, taking comfort and life from each other as the action reassured each other that this was real, and everything was going to be OK. You took a deep breath, sliding your hand into his hair as you momentarily deepened the kiss, your tongue briefly touching John’s before the aches and pains forced you to reluctantly pull away.

John’s hand never stopped its easy motions on your back as you settled back down, almost immediately starting to fall asleep again. Of all the evidence that pointed to your body being exhausted and pushed beyond its limits, the fact that you could immediately be on the verge of sleep again after a kiss from this incredible man was the most damming.

There was a tickle of movement against John’s chest hair as you mumbled, “Goodnight, John,” eyes closed and breathing evening out.

And as John murmured back, “Goodnight, love,” a smile played on his lips. Because despite everything, he had his girl in his arms, everyone was safe, and he took comfort in the feeling that once again everything was right again in the world.

Chapter Text

Three days later, and you’d spent pretty much the entire time watching bad movies and hanging out with Ollie and John. Which, to be fair, was pretty perfect. You’d used some of your banked sick time, telling the museums management that you’d come down ill and spent time in the hospital to cover for your sudden, unexplained absence. Thankfully, they didn’t ask a lot of questions, you’d rarely missed work in the past, it was easy to want to go to work when you loved your job as much as you did. It might put you a couple days behind schedule on your installation, but maybe it’d be good to have something to throw yourself into when you returned.

Other than being ensconced in your couch with Ollie (and usually John), you’d forced yourself out of the house every day, multiple times a day. Generally with Ollie to get his walk in, but to the shops, to pick up food, whatever you could to make sure you got out of the four walls of your home. You felt it, immediately, that first morning back. The tightness in your chest and the way your breathing increased as you collected Ollie’s leash and pulled your shoes on. By the time that you’d made it to putting your hand on the door to leave, you were fairly sure you were on the verge of having a panic attack about putting yourself out there again, the threat of what had happened the last time you left hanging over you like a guillotine.

But before you could throw yourself down a path you didn’t want to see the outcome of, John was there, his hand sliding around your waist in a comforting gesture, his low voice asking if you were ready to go. And that was everything you needed. You were strong, and could handle this shit, but just needed that little push to have confidence in yourself. Which was exactly what John provided. He rarely left your side, only forcing himself away from you when absolutely necessary. Like when you met your dad for tea on that third day, having the long overdue conversation with him in a quiet corner of a small coffee shop. Though it was necessary, it wasn’t a fun talk, however the two of you left feeling so much better about everything, and close in a way that had been missing over the last couple years. It had been insidious, the two of you drifting apart, not something that you’d noticed until you finally talked it all out. And maybe it was you forcing yourself to be overly positive, but if stopping that slow degradation of your relationship with your dad was what came out of your ordeal then maybe it was all for the best.

After you’d talked it all out and felt extremely raw, John had met you halfway back to your house, where he was finishing a walk with Ollie. It had been hard leaving your dad to go home alone, but it was something you needed to do. That independence meant the world to you, staying away from the safety net of letting your very dangerous dad/body guard walk you home. Even if you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head the whole time as you walked down the street away from him. But, predictably, nothing happened. You caught up with John, no threats popped up, you weren’t kidnapped again. And that lack of events, the normalcy of everything, did more for you mentally than any level of reassurance ever could.

Not that your subconscious mind was fully on board with that concept. Days were getting rapidly easier, but nights found you plagued with insomnia, your body exhausted but mind running a million miles a minute. Sometimes it was replaying what had happened, or having anxiety about the future, but most of the time it was simply just mundane bullshit that wouldn’t shut up. You’d find yourself thinking of a to do list for work, or something unimportant you saw on social media, or wondering if the library had the book you wanted to read available yet. A therapist (that you had an appointment with next week) would probably tell you it was a coping mechanism, your brain trying to save itself and focus on things that didn’t hurt. But all you could do was be pissed off that it meant you were only sleeping in short bursts, napping on the couch with John in the mornings and afternoons.

But for now, you found yourself back in bed with John, cuddled into his side as you fitfully slept, even in sleep your mind unable to quieten down. Bad dreams had been common, adding to you sleep struggles, but this one was particularly rough. The day on the boat replayed, but instead of what really happened you found yourself stuck in a loop. Attempting over and over to undo the cuffs, and always failing, watching the man you’d shot come through the door over and over again, barely making it into the room before the dream reset and you were back trying to free yourself again. But slowly, every time the dream looped, he was making it a step closer, your panic rising as you struggled to release the mechanism, watching him advance with terror but unable to do anything about it.

Slowly, the dream distorting reality and time, the man reached out as he finally came close, a knife in his hand the point slicing towards your face in an arc…

Eyes flying open, you rolled up and over onto one elbow, leaning over the side of the bed as you woke with a start, stomach churning. You stayed like that for a moment, your mind trying to focus on reality instead of being stuck in that dream, trying to ignore the nausea. When the emotions roiling in your gut subsided slightly you pushed off your elbow, sitting all the way up and grabbing a sip of water from the bedside table, suddenly thankful for the light shining from the bathroom. Leaving the light on was supposed to be helping with the nightmare. Obviously, it wasn’t. You attempted to calm your mind and heart, taking deep, slow breaths, but that didn’t work either, still feeling the vestiges of that panic. Twisting, you put the water back on the bedside table and ran both hands heavily over your face.

The bed dipped slightly and you noticed the change in John’s breathing right before a warm hand ran across the back of your shirt.

“You alright, love?” His voice was deepened and even more husky with sleep, and you leaned slightly into the touch.

“Yeah, I’m fine, go back to sleep,” you replied quietly, not wanting to bring him into the mess that was going on in your head. Not that he would mind, you knew he wanted to be involved and helpful. But you couldn’t help but feel bad.

John made a questioning noise, and his hand slid down your back, then up and under your shirt and traced up your spine. His skin met yours and you shivered slightly, curving forwards and hugging your knees to give him better access. “If you’re fine, why are you up in the middle of the night?”

“Just bad dreams,” you sighed contentedly. Well this was nicer than your nightmare. “Nothing to really worry about.”

The bed moved again as he propped himself up on one hand, and the hand in your shirt lifted up slightly, going from his full palm tracing your back to just his fingertips. The motions sent tingles skittering across your skin and you unintentionally hummed happily.

“Can I do anything to help?” John asked and you straightened before sinking back against him, leaning into the warmth of his chest.

“Unless you can do something to force me to fall asleep then no,” you chuckled, tilting your head to rub your cheek against his shoulder, taking comfort from the closeness. “You should go back to sleep though, no sense in both of us being awake.”

“No chance, love, not until you do,” he rumbled, and his hand slipped around your waist as you cuddled into his solid chest. Your breath hitched and you turned into the touch, which only resulted in his palm sliding down to your hip, and suddenly you weren’t thinking of your nightmares. Instead, you were thinking of what he could do with those hands of his, a slight spark starting low in your belly.

“Well… if we’re both up, we might as well make the most of the time, right?” your voice was low and you looked up at John from your spot against his collarbone.

“I suppose we might as well,” he chuckled, and you felt more than heard the sound. “Any ideas?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, rotating your hips to throw a leg over John’s thighs, thankful when there wasn’t any pain. Your injuries, both inside and out, had put both of you off of anything too intense over the last few days and suddenly it was like your body was making up for lost time. The spark flared into a flame almost immediately. “I’m sure we can come up with something.”

“Glad you agree, I have faith in us,” he replied with the little grin he had, the tips of his facial hair lifting and his eyes crinkling in the way you loved so much. Both hands went to your hips, his thumbs digging into the joint possessively, his fingers and palms gripping the sides of your ass.

You couldn’t help the low laugh at his flirting, but it was quickly stifled as you leaned forward and John surged upwards to meet you. His lips met yours, somewhat urgent, but soft and teasing, letting you control the pace. Tentatively, you rolled your hips and your hands ran up and into his hair from his neck, deepening the kiss and drawing a delicious groan from low in his chest. As your tongue parted his lips, meeting his equally eager one, you started to pull back, worried that you were about to push him over now his hands had gone from propping him up to kneading your ass.

Instead, John’s arms wrapped around you, and his strong thighs met your backside as he bent his legs, pushing against the mattress to move both of you up the bed. Your hands greedily took in his chest as his muscles flexed under your palms, easily moving you and him at once. One hand left your waist momentarily as he shoved a pillow behind his back, then returned to slip up and inside your shirt, gently pulling you towards him. You followed his lead, falling into his chest as his other hand joined the first, sliding the hem of your shirt up, the fabric scratching at your oversensitive skin as it skimmed up your back. Though you kind of hated to do it, you pushed back away from John’s chest, giving him some room to pull the shirt over your head.

Immediately you reconnected, pushing your chest into him, the contact with his chest hair pebbling your nipples as you kissed him again. Hard and slow, the two of you took your time, in no rush to move things along, just enjoying the closeness. His hands explored all of the skin he could reach, gentle and yet firm, kneading the soft parts of you with thick fingers. Both of you were breathing heavy, moving just slightly against each other without even thinking about it consciously, delighting in the skin to skin contact. After a while of luxuriating in each other, the tips of his fingers started to explore the hem of your underwear, slipping under only to teasingly retreat again.

The only separation between you was your underwear and his, and his attention just brought your attention to that fact, and in particular that you were pretty sure that your underwear were soaked through. Apparently your body hadn’t gotten the memo of taking your time, and you squirmed slightly at the sensation. Which had the good, and bad, effect of scooting you slightly up his thighs and pressing his extremely hard cock against your center.

Both of you groaned, your hands tangling deeper into his hair, his tightening on your ass at the sensation. John sucked in a breath, nipping at your lower lip as he forced himself to hold back, letting you take the lead, not wanting to push you too much. Experimentally, you rolled your hips again, dragging yourself along the length of him, reveling in the pressure against your core. Hands pushed into your underwear completely, grabbing at your ass firmly as John’s hips involuntarily pushed up against you, increasing the sensations. Unwilling to give up the wonderful feeling, you continued to roll your hips, the push and pull just making you more and more turned on. Slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him, John’s hand moved further down, fingers seeking and exploring until he met the wetness between your thighs.

“Oh fuck, love,” John moaned into your neck, finally breaking the kiss as his head dropped forward at his finding.

A noise that sounded dangerously like a whine left you as his fingers slid along your pussy, the motions made easy by slick you were. He teased around your entrance but two fingers continued their movements, never stopping in one place for too long, amping you further and further up with every pass.

John’s lips started to move along your neck, planting kisses and sucking gently along the column of it as you lifted your chin to make room for him, his facial hair adding to the sensation of every kiss. Even though he hadn’t actually breached your entrance or touched your clit you felt like you were moments away from orgasm, just waiting for him to do something to push you over the precipice. This hadn’t really been the intent when you’d woken, but you’d evidently missed this connection, if your bodies reaction was anything to go off of. And truly, you needed this, needed the normalcy and the distraction, to feel wanted and taken care of.

“Jesus Christ John, you’re driving me a little crazy here,” you breathed a laugh into his temple, squirming on his hand.

“And you’re not enjoying it?” He was asking you that, but if how hard his cock was wasn’t any indication of how much this was effecting him too, then how gruff his voice sounded would have told you everything. Despite how cocky the words were, they sounded like he had to force them out around the emotion and tightness in his throat.

“I think you’re feeling the answer to that,” you groaned as he finally, finally pushed the tip of one finger into you. Your breath stuttered as he did, squeezing your eyes shut as you shifted your hips again, pushing his finger further into you pussy.

Slowly, letting you feel the drag of his finger against your walls, he pulled out, and when he pushed his hand back into you it was two fingers instead of one. The stretch felt fantastic, and the slow, intent movements as he pumped them in and out of you felt even better. Your lips found his again, showing how him rather than telling how good you felt, losing yourself in the sensations. Coarse hair tickled your hands as you gently gripped his face, groaning into his mouth as he bottomed out again.

John twisted his fingers as much as he could with the slightly awkward position, dragging the tips of them against your G-Spot carefully. Your pussy tightened down on him immediately, barely needing any encouragement from how wound up you already were. It only took a few more passes of his thick and nimble fingers before you were bearing down on him, the orgasm washing over you in waves. Your hands wrapped around the back of his head, your forehead dropping to his shoulder as you held him tightly against you, riding out the sensations as his fingers slowed, drawing out your high.

It maybe wasn’t the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, but it just went on, the combination of John’s fingers on and in you melting together with the comfort of having him close to you. It was as much a mental as physical thing, and you didn’t want to let the sensations end any time soon. Carefully you rose up on your knees, his fingers slipping out of you before you awkwardly pulled your underwear off of you with jerky motions, not quite having recovered your fine motor skills.

“Love? What’re you-,” John started, surprised you were already moving and slightly concerned that he hadn’t done his job well enough.

But he cut off as you dropped back down again, your hands fumbling with his boxers until you wrapped a hand around his cock pulling it out of its confines. You stroked it gently, feeling the vein and running a thumb up and over his head, and you were rewarded with his head dropping back against the headboard with a thump. The position gave you a perfect view of his face in the soft light, and you couldn’t but drink in every detail of his expression, blissed out as it was. It made you feel strangely powerful and confident, your touch reducing this strong, dangerous man to a puddle in your hands. Which was exactly what you needed, and wanted more of.

Simultaneously you lifted your hips and maneuvered his cock back towards your center, wetting the head as you slid his cock through your folds a couple times, teasing the both of you. John took the moment to shimmy his boxers off, before returning his hands to your hips as you notched him against your entrance. Slowly, drawing the sensation out, you sank down onto him, relishing the stretch and pull of him inside you, the feeling teasing aftershocks out of you, causing your pussy to clench and release gently around him.

“You’re going to be the death of me one day,” John growled, releasing a harsh breath as you bottomed out finally.

“But what a way to go,” you teased, pausing to enjoy the feeling of being so full of his thick cock.

John responded by tightening his grip on your hips, guiding your movement to draw you back up his length, then using his thumbs to push you back down when only the tip remained inside you. You led the motions, using your thigh muscles to rise and fall on him, but he guided you, his strong and solid hands providing a constant comforting presence. Propping yourself up just slightly on your elbows, you leaned away from him so you could rest your forehead against his.

“You feel amazing, John,” you murmured, speeding up your motions a bit.

“You’re one to talk, love,” he replied, pushing and pulling you a little more forcefully, increasing both of your pleasures.

The motions continued like that, you speeding up and him reciprocating, the two of you safely ensconced in your cocoon, forgetting about the outside world and all the troubles it contained. It probably wasn’t the most conventional way of distracting yourself but fuck if it felt right. John felt like a piece of you that was missing, rebuilding and completing you in ways that you couldn’t have predicted. It was that thought you clung to as your second orgasm started to build, John’s movements becoming more stiff and less co-ordinated as he too barreled towards his own high.

“I’m not going last much longer here,” John muttered into your hair, one hand holding the back of your head to hold you close into his shoulder.

“Trust me, me neither,” you gasped as his other hand snaked between your bodies, fingers seeking out your clit. Masterfully, he provided just the right amount of pressure as he circled the nub, not overstimulating you but driving you higher.

The combination of fullness from his cock, the drag of him over and over again along your walls, and now his fingers was too much, and there was nothing that you could do to fight it even if you wanted to. Which you definitely didn’t. You finally gave up control, letting him manipulate you any way he wanted, and were rewarded as your orgasm slowly broke in your core. It wasn’t an immediate, crashing wave, but more a slow build, something that overwhelmed and surrounded you as it broke. You shuddered in John’s arms, squeezing his cock and drawing the sensation out as you felt his movements stutter and stop, feeling him pulse inside you as he came along with you.

The stop only lasted a few moments though, before he restarted a slow, gentle rhythm with both his hips and hands, drawing your high out as long as he possibly could. It wasn’t until you tapped him with your hands, whining that it was too much, you were too sensitive, that he stopped. Even still, you couldn’t bring yourself to immediately pull away from him, and you felt his length slowly soften inside you as you rested your head against his heart. It thudded, strong and sure in his chest, and you listened to the beating contentedly, taking solace in the comforting sound that you knew you could always rely on. Eventually though, you pulled away, letting him slip out of you.

You dropped a quick kiss on his forehead as you rose, giving him a sleepy smile as you disappeared into the bathroom to clean up. On a whim, you turned the shower on and cracked the door to the bedroom.

“You’re welcome to join. If you want,” you said softly, then retuned and stepped under the warm water. It didn’t take more than a couple minutes for John to accept your invite, silently opening the door and stepping into the spray.

Neither of you said a word as you washed off, just enjoying the closeness of a different kind. There were plenty of touches, this time not sexual though, simply enjoying the ability to be familiar with one another, especially after such a harrowing few days where there were moments that the two of you weren’t sure that this would be a possibility again. The shower started and ended that way, and the peaceful silence between you continued as the two of you toweled off and returned to bed.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself cuddled up to John, skin to skin as you’d both decided to forgo clothes.

“I’ll take that as an option for getting me to sleep better any day of the week,” you said quietly, a small smile on your face.

“Noted,” John responded, a lightness in his quiet tone. “I have to admit that as soon as you started touching me my brain wasn’t working quite well enough to put that connection together, but I live to serve.”

“And you do it so well,” you laughed silently, tracing patterns in the hair on his chest as you started to drift off again. “Whilst this is definitely my preferred way of getting sleep, and it helps right now…. I think I need to get out. Do something normal.”

“It seems like you’re doing a lot out of the house, love, is that not helping?” John asked into your hair, his free hand idly playing with the ends as you mused.

“I am. And it is,” you sighed. “I don’t know what I’m asking or why I’m saying it. Just ignore me, go back to post orgasm haze.”

“I never left, hard to focus with you in my arms and the image of your body in the shower in my head.”

“Dirty mind,” you teased.

“Guilty,” he shrugged lightly, trying to not disturb you but you felt the smile on his lips on your head.

“I guess just something that doesn’t feel forced. I feel like everything I’m doing is performative, like I’m checking boxes rather than healing and doing something I want to. But anything I plan for myself would then feel forced,” you sighed heavily as you talked. “I’m overthinking it, I’m sorry.”

“The rest of the boys are still in town, do you want to go out to a pub? I guarantee they won’t feel like it’s forced, any chance for a pint is welcomed,” John grumbled, intentionally sounding like he was casual and put upon to deflect from how intently he was thinking. All he wanted was to make sure that you were as happy as you could be, and his mind was running a mile a minute with options.

“They’re still around?” you frowned, perking up as you worried that they were put out of their normal lives still.

John hummed an affirmative, and you felt the rumble in his chest through your cheek. “Gave them some time off, all of them stuck around London for a few.”

That wasn’t technically a lie, John might have given them some incentive in the form of additional days off to hang around but it had been far from an order.

You were silent for a few moments, breathing deepening as you calmed down and relaxed, and for a moment John thought you might’ve fallen asleep.

“That actually sounds nice, but only if they want to. I don’t want to put anyone else out or to make everything about me,” you said quietly. It did sound nice, getting to see further into John’s life and how he interacted with others. And you were tired of feeling like everything revolved around you and your recent trauma.

“Like I said, I know they’ll be happy to go out. Besides, I’m positive that they’d love the chance to interrogate you,” John said, a laugh in his voice.

“That has a different connotation considering your line of work,” you chuckled.

“Trust me, they’ll like you just as much as I do. They’re already impressed,” he assured. “I think they’re just looking for fuel to tease me.”

“I’ll try to not embarrass you,” you deadpanned, poking him in the chest.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he replied, eliciting a surprised noise out of you when he rolled you onto your back, hovering over you on one elbow. “The last thing I’m thinking about with you is embarrassment, love.”

He paused for a moment, and you searched his deep blue eyes, seeing the emotion behind his words. In a moment, his lips were on yours again, slow and methodical, showing you what he wasn’t saying. The kiss was short and chaste, despite your compromising lack of clothes and position in bed, and ended with John gently pulling back then tugging you into himself again as he rolled back onto his back.

“Now get some sleep,” he grumbled, squeezing you gently, “don’t make me give you another orgasm to wear you out again.”

A surprised laugh tumbled out of you and you gently smacked him on the chest. “You’re ridiculous,” you chuckled, grinning into his chest as yours filled with emotion for this incredible man. “Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, love,” he replied, kissing the top of your head.

And lo and behold, you not only slept through the night but woke up late the next morning, more well rested than you had been in months.

Chapter Text

The pub was bustling when you arrived, the after work Friday crowd in full swing, music playing from somewhere and patrons spilling out onto the pavement outside. It was a couple days after you and John had discussed this possibility, and the rest of the boys had jumped on the chance to meet up, just as he had predicted. Despite how busy it was, John easily noticed his team camped out at a table near the back, an awareness built from years of working together. John had entered before you, holding the door like the gentleman he was, but you tugged on his elbow to get his attention before he set off to meet up with his friends. 

“I’ll get us a drink, what would you like?” you asked, rocking up into your toes as he leaned down to meet you so you could speak into his ear. It had the bonus effect of tucking you into his comforting presence, his arm winding around your waist to keep you close. The small moment of comfort and domesticity did wonders for your nerves, his warmth soaking in through your side. As much as you tried to tell yourself there was nothing to worry about here, that you had already met these guys, and gone through something much more harrowing than just getting drinks, you couldn’t help but be just a bit nervous. Getting to have this insight into John’s life meant a lot to you, and you didn’t want to fuck it up. 

“Whiskey, neat, love. Do you want me to come with you?” he asked the last part as he pulled away slightly so he could take you in properly, leaving no room for you to hide anything from him as he scrutinized you. 

“No, no I’m OK,” you replied, meeting his eyes solidify and confidently. “I can manage this.” 

“Ok love,” he nodded, still searching for any doubt in your face, but finding none. “Meet you over there.” John dropped a chaste kiss on your check and imparted one of his sweet, crinkly smiles you loved so much, before letting his arm drop away from you and turning to go to his friends. 

A smile quirked at the corner of your lips as you spent a moment watching him leave, weaving his way through the crowd as people unconsciously moved out of his way. Simply his presence was enough for people to take an extra half a step out of the way, and the fact that that was your man filled your chest with an emotion you didn’t quite know how to categorize. Pride, happiness, maybe even the beginnings of love, if you were brave enough to admit it. With that thought echoing around your head, you turned to the bar, meeting the eye of the barkeep who gave you a nod of acknowledgment that you were in line. 

Coming to the bar alone wasn’t something you’d had to do, but it was something that had been rattling around in your mind in the taxi ride over here, a way to prove a point to yourself. That not only were you here, you didn’t need the so called crutch of having John at your side the entire night. It was easier than you expected, but you hadn’t had your hopes high. Admittedly, your heart raced momentarily as you waited, your eyes glancing left and right to assess everyone around for threats, but you found yourself calming quickly. Settling in to the normal routine, enjoying and almost basking in the bustle of humanity around you. It could have been disheartening to see all of these people going about their lives without a care, oblivious to what was going on outside of their day to day lives, but instead it just gave you hope. If the world kept turning as normal, then why couldn’t you catch back up to it and enjoy life again too?

It didn’t take long for the barkeeper to get to you, the efficiency they moved at impressive, and you ordered John’s whiskey as well as something for yourself. After opening a tab, you accepted the drinks and approached the group of men, happily noting that a seat that had been left between John and Gaz.

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” you greeted, setting your drink down and sliding the whiskey to John with a slightly unsure smile on your face, a little nervousness slipping to the surface. 

Any worries were immediately dissuaded, however, when Gaz hopped off the stool he was perched on, turning to envelop you in a huge, genuine hug. 

He released you after a few moments, and Soap rested his hands on the table, half standing so he could lean over and give you a sharp hi five. 

“Good to see you again, lass,” he grinned, his easy going nature infectious. 

Ghost simply gave you a nod across the table, one you returned with a smile. Not that you’d been expecting anything more from him, you’d probably combust if he’d tried anything either of the other men had done. 

“How’re things, how’ve you been?” Soap was the first to jump into conversation, unsurprisingly. 

Somehow you managed to shrug as you simultaneously hopped up on the bar stool, getting yourself comfortable as you saw John take a sip of his drink in the corner of your eye. 

“So so. Good as they can be, really, not in part thanks to this one,” you replied inclining your head towards John, not wanting to bring the mood down immediately. Immediately, you felt a squeeze on your knee, an acknowledgment from John for what you said. 

“Knew he’d come in handy sometime,” Gaz teased, and John sighed next to you. 

“Remind me of that when I do your next performance review,” he groused, but there was a smile underneath his facial hair that was just begging to come out. 

“Glad things are getting back to normal for you,” Soap nodded, getting the conversation back on track as he took a sip of beer. 

“Just trying to take advantage of the fact that being kidnapped gets you time off work,” you quipped, enjoying the natural banter and easy conversation of the men. 

Soap laughed, loudly and genuinely at your comment, “I’ll have to remember that one for next time I need a holiday.” 

“Try it and see how that works out,” John replied, raising an eyebrow. “Considering you’re supposed to be the one getting people out of those situations I’ll just be inclined to leave you, let you spend your time off proving why you have a job.” 

That made you laugh, and John squeezed your knee again under the table, but this time his hand remained as the conversation continued, his thumb occasionally swiping over your thigh. The weight of it was a reassurance, the slide of his thumb lit the smallest of sparks with its motions. 

The night continued much like it started, Ghost mostly staying quiet, other than some surprisingly comedically timed remarks, the rest of you getting alone like this was the millionth time hanging out, not the first. It was exactly what you needed, the group putting you at ease, the banter making you forget why you even needed that in the first place. John’s hand on your thigh was distracting enough too, tightening slightly every now and again when someone got too close, or paid too much attention. But instead of feeling smothered you found a base part of yourself really, really enjoying the protectiveness of the man beside you who could kill anyone in this room with ease. 

When you needed a refill, both of you went, with an order for another round for the table. This time at the bar was even better than the first though, with John’s larger body behind you, his arms bracketing you against the wooden top after you ordered. It should have been claustrophobic, but you just felt safe, and found yourself leaning back into his warmth. John inclined his head down as you waited, and you tilted back to lean against his shoulder, bathing in his presence and the low hum of chatter and music in the cocoon of his arms. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?” he asked into the crook of your neck, his facial hair ticking the thin skin, sending goosebumps skittering down your arms. 

A contented hum left you as you nudged your head into his, your breath catching as he laid light kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I really am, thank you. This is exactly what I needed,” you replied, and you felt the smile on his lips as he kissed you again. 

“I’m glad, you know I just want you to be happy,” he said, tracing his nose up the line of your neck. All his movements were very PG-13, nothing overt where you were tucked up in the shelter of his arms, but the combination was starting to get to you. 

“You’re going to get another emotion other than happy if you keep that up,” you murmured, reaching back to thread a hand through his hair briefly, running the soft strands through your fingers. 

He chuckled, the low, teasing noise not doing anything to help you, but he kissed the side of your head very chastely, and pulled back as you received your drink order. You followed him back to the table, taking advantage of the way the crowd split around his wide shoulders, and your return was heralded by a cheer from Soap when you handed him his drink. 

The conversation had continued in your and John’s absence, but there was no awkwardness as you jumped right back in. It was fascinating watching the dynamics, Gaz and Soap more outgoing, Ghost and John more reserved, but all contributing to the ebb and flow in their own ways. The pieces interlocked perfectly, and yet somehow you were able to find your own place without feeling like you were intruding. Even when you didn’t quite follow the story swapping that eventually happened after a couple more drinks, you never felt left out. One of the boys would make a point to animatedly explain the background, or you’d once again feel John’s facial hair tickling the side of your neck as he murmured the minutiae in your ear. 

A few hours passed in a happy blur, this night exactly what you had wanted when you had the passing thought of making these plans. At one point you had the errant thought that this was so different from the first time that you and John had been in a pub together. If someone would have told you that that very odd, rollercoaster of a day would have lead you here, you never would have believed it. But when you thought of the John that you’d met that day, compared to the one by your side today, there was also an inevitability that settled in your bones. There was no world in which one meeting would have been enough with this man who made you feel like you’d hung the stars and could conquer the world. 

Eventually you started to flag, leaning more on John with every passing minute. His arm wound around you, holding you to his shoulder as you rested on him, still enjoying the evening but in a more passive way. You stopped drinking, and spent less and less time talking, more listening and enjoying the flow of conversation around you. John was attentive as ever though, and after a while noted your reduced participation, discreetly asking you if you’d like to go home. He (correctly) translated your non-committal noise as that you wanted to leave but didn’t want to be a bother, and took the responsibility of making your goodbyes. Gaz was the last one to say goodbye, giving you a solid hug again and telling you he’d be looking forward to another takeaway night soon. 

The pub you’d been ensconced in was down an alley, and after paying the tab you and John walked down the cobbled street, your hand tucked in his elbow. Whilst he focused on directing the two of you, the small amount of alcohol left over in your system had your thoughts wandering, focusing on the warmth of his hand that seeped through your clothes. Your tired mind strayed, thinking of all the delicious ways that he had used those hands on you, how he could use them to be both lethal but gentle. Which really summed up the man next to you as a whole. You didn’t have any illusions of the kind of man John was, you knew what he got up to at work. Hell, you’d seen it in action. But there was probably something wrong with you because somehow all that did was turn you on. Knowing that he could protect you then turn around and use those hands to make you feel the best you’d ever felt just had your brain going fuzzy. 

Lost in thought and getting yourself surprisingly worked up, you completely missed that John had slowed down and was looking down at you curiously. 

“Alright there, love?” he asked, his deep, scratching voice rumbling in your ear as he leaned in close. 

You jolted slightly, his question bringing you back to the present and looked up to meet his eyes, flicking back and forth as you drank him in. Barely even realizing it, you’d stopped, and the two of you faced each other, John’s hands going to your waist, your hands on his chest, warm even through the fabric. 

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” you replied, eyes trailing down his face, appreciating the fullness of his lips, his square jaw, the facial hair that you knew felt so good on your skin…

“Anything interesting?” You watched as those lips smirked, John clocking how you were apprising him. 

“Just how much I want to do this.”

Rocking up onto your toes, you pressed your lips against his, closing your eyes and running your hands up his chest to grip him by the back of the neck. John responded immediately to your kiss, his arms wrapping around you, one hand slipping up to brace between your shoulder blades as he tugged you close into himself. As your chest met his, you let out a tiny gasp, and John used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his mouth moving slipping against yours, his tongue teasing for entrance. Happily, you complied with his silent kiss, and he groaned when your tongues touched, a rumbling noise that you felt through your chest, pushed up against him as you were. 

Suddenly, you were moving, John maneuvering you carefully backwards, and you found your back pressed into the old stone building behind you. His hand had snaked upwards even further as he moved you, cupping the back of your head so you had something to lean against. Fingers flexing, his large hands held you tightly, an anchor for you as he surrounded you with his overwhelming presence. The kisses moved, one against the corner of your mouth, another towards your jaw, then to the actual curve of your jaw, then your neck, his nose nudging your chin up slightly to give him more room. 

“You are so fucking perfect,” he murmured against your skin, kisses moving down your neck as he spoke. 

It was temping to tip your head back, giving him unfettered access to where he wanted, but the pressure of his hand on your head remained, keeping your cheek pressed to his head. John just couldn’t bear to part with you, torn between wanting to make you feel good and unwilling to let any part of you be away from him any more than necessary. He should have been surprised that he’d fallen into you as fast as he had, touching you as if he was going to die if he didn’t, but he wasn’t. This was just how he always was with you, every piece of you calling to every part of him, at all times. 

The kisses moved again, back up your neck to your lips, where you greeted him eagerly. There was a flurry of movement as both of you momentarily lost yourselves in each other, somehow forgetting where you were. Hands moved, all except the one behind your head, as his other one grabbed your ass, yours running through his hair and down his back. One of your legs lifted, your ankle hooking behind his calf, and his thigh slid between your legs. You groaned again as you felt the pressure at the apex of your thighs, your core heating as he flexed his hand on the flesh of your ass.

“Oiiii! Get a room!” 

A cacophony of cackling laughter sparked from down the street as a handful of drunk pub goers passed the entrance to the alleyway. Pulling back with a jerk, dropping your hands and leg and trying to rearrange yourself to something suitably proper, you groaned, feeling the heat of embarrassment burn through your face and chest. 

“Oh my fucking god,” you whispered, closing your eyes and burying your face in the hollow of his throat. 

To your surprise, John didn’t say anything, freezing for a moment before you felt rather than heard his chuckle. The small laugh progressed into a full one, and he held you tight while he processed his emotions, feeling happy and relaxed in a way he so rarely did. Eventually a smile cracked on your face as the embarrassment faded, losing yourself in the happiness he exuded. 

“God, woman, you make me feel like a horny teenager again,” John chuckled, leaning back slightly so he could pick your chin up with one finger, smiling back at your still slightly embarrassed grin. Leaning down again, he kissed your head, then leaned his forehead against yours. 

“It’s your fault, I just can’t keep my hands off of you,” you teased, gently scratching your nails down the side of his face, through his facial hair. The action made him shiver, and he gripped you tight. 

“Let’s go home, and you can touch me to your hearts content,” he practically growled, quickly snatching up your hand in his, fingers interlacing with yours. 

As he practically tugged you toward the main road, you could help but laugh at his eagerness, heart happy and light. As you caught up with him, he hooked his arm around your shoulders, tucking you in close. Once you reached the main road, he hailed a cab, sliding his hand down your side to squeeze your hip. He held the door for you to slide in, him coming in after you after he leaned down to tell the cabbie your address. 

As the car pulled away from the curb you felt him look at you, an awareness prickling at you. Crossing your legs, you smoothed down your clothes, leaving him waiting intentionally, looking out the window. Apparently impatient, John settled his hand on your knee. 

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” you repeated from earlier, smirking at him. The hand on your knee squeezed, and slid just slightly up so he was holding the meat of your thigh. 

“Anything interesting?” John leaned in closer, and used his grip on your thigh to possessively pull your legs closer to him, a move that immediately had you thinking dirty thoughts. Again. 

You glanced down, eyes catching on the way his finger tips dug into the flesh of your leg, and you missed the smirk that briefly flashed across John’s face as he noted your reaction. He wasn’t planning on doing much more than that though, at least not in the cab. Getting kicked out for being inappropriate wasn’t on his to do list for tonight, besides there was a corner of his brain that loved nothing more than teasing you and getting you worked up, especially after earlier, letting you anticipate what the next move might be. He hadn’t had much of a chance to explore that with you yet, but you’d responded so beautifully to his teasing before he had a feeling it might be a hit. 

John’s hand flexed, and you traced the veins in the back of his hands to his forearms where he’d slightly pushed up his sleeves in the heat of the cab. Further up, you imagined the muscles that you knew coated his arms under his jacket, remembering the feel of them under your fingers, until you got to his face and blushed. He was looking at you with a mixture of lust, smugness as he watched your perusal of him, and anticipation which reminded you that he’d asked you a question. 

“Oh, uh, nope. Nothing worth repeating,” you stammered, face going red once again. You didn’t know how the hell he still managed to fluster you after you’d just been making out in the street, but he was just irresistible to you. 

“Hmm. If you say so,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting up under his mustache into a grin that widened as he noted your gaze flick to his lips momentarily. 

With that, he leaned back into his seat, his hand firmly staying where it was as he looked out at the passing London skyline. Letting you decide what you wanted the next move to be, not wanting to put any pressure on you and also letting the anticipation start to simmer. You did the same, leaning backwards, but you took a moment to soak in his profile, outlined by the blur of lights that passed through the windows. It really didn’t seem possible, all that had happened since you met, or that you had been so lucky to end up here, and that was even with all the misfortune that had happened in the interim. But you would forever be grateful to be exactly where you were. 

The rest of the ride passed in companionable silence, though the pressure of John’s hand on your thigh was an ever present reminder of the heat that bubbled just barely below the surface. At one point you went over a bump that jostled his hand even further up your leg, to a decidedly inappropriate height, and when you glanced at him, wide eyed, he simply winked back before looking back out the window. Which did absolutely nothing to help how you were feeling. A man like him winking should have been corny, not fucking hot. 

Before you knew it you’d pulled up outside of your house, and John was paying for the cab. His hand settled at your lower back as you climbed out, providing a quiet comfort all the way to your front door and as you unlocked it. You let him through as you paused to close and lock the door behind you, turning to find that he hadn’t gone far, waiting just inside for you. 

There was a moment of silence, a pause as you took each other in. 

“I-,” you started. 

“What- ,” he said at the same time, and you both laughed lowly, the moment broken. “You first, love.” 

You reached up to tug him closer by his shoulders, and wrapped your arms around his neck as he stepped into you. “I really enjoyed tonight. Thank you for getting me out, that was exactly what I needed.” 

“Not like it was any hardship for me, love. But I’m glad, really.  Just want to do whatever I can to make you feel better.” John’s hand loosely wrapped around your waist as he talked, bringing you closer to him. 

“I think I can think of one more thing you could do for me,” you murmured, fingers teasing through the short hairs at the base of his neck before gripping the back of his head and pulling him down to you. 

“Mmm. And what’s that?” he replied, arms tightening around you, hands gently kneading at you flesh. 

For the second time that night, you rolled up on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The kiss started slow again, but rapidly increased pressure as you sank into the feeling of him. It didn’t take much, you were already turned on from his attention from earlier, and your body was more than primed for him. His facial hair tickled you, but just added to the riot of sensations as your whole body pressed against his, both of you grasping each other more fiercely. Your hands fully entwined in his hair as his lips moved against yours and you felt the first brush of his tongue against your lips, and then against your own tongue as you opened for him with a low moan. 

Far, far too soon he pulled back, his broad hands holding you by your hips so you couldn’t follow him. 

“As much as I like that, that’s not quite an answer,” he said gently, testing the waters with you, searching your eyes for any hesitancy. 

“I would have thought it was a pretty good one,” you pouted, slightly out of breath from the kiss. 

“Not bad, but I’d prefer you use your words, love. What is it that you want?” John’s voice lowered as he spoke, pulling you into him so he crowded your space just slightly. 

There was another pause, but this one felt electric as he patiently waited for you to unscramble your thoughts and figure out what it was you actually did want. And then more time even for you to work out pure emotions and turn that into words. Eventually, the statement came out more as a sigh, a relief to actually say something out loud that you’d had pent up for too long.

“I just need to feel like I’m not fucking made of glass,” you murmured, meeting John’s gaze solidly, with no hesitation. “I want to feel like I’m not fragile or going to break at any second. And I want you.” 

John sucked in a breath, torn for a moment between wanting to wrap you up in his arms or throw you over his shoulder. His heart broke, just a small crack, at how vulnerable you’d sounded in the statement, despite putting on a brave face. More than anything, he wished he could have stopped you from having to experience all that pain, or he could take it away now. But no matter how much he wished for it, all he could do was his best to try and muddle through, and make you happy. So, you had been brave and told him what you wanted, and he was going to do his damndest to honor that. 

“Yeah? And you trust me with that? You remember our colors and you’ll tell me if there’s anything you don’t like?” 

“Of course,” you replied, hoping he understood that that was your answer to all of his questions. 

“Good girl,” he half growled. The words sent a shiver down your back but you didn’t have any time to process it as he pushed you backwards into the door by your hips. 

You squeaked as your back hit the door, hard but not enough to hurt. Both of John’s hands left your body, one smacking into the door to support his weight next to your head, the other gripping you firmly by your chin as he leaned into to take your lips in a punishing kiss. 

There was no build up to this kiss like there had been on the last one. Immediately, he took the lead, lips moving solidly and confidently against yours, opening slightly for his tongue to tease against the seam of your mouth. With a small gasp you opened up, his tongue meeting yours, dominating from the start. The hand on your chin moved down, tracing the column of your throat before skimming between your breasts, teasing you with potential but not fully touching you yet. It continued is journey down to your hips, then around to grip the back of your thigh. 

“Up,” he commanded in a breath between kisses, and put pressure on your leg to wrap around you. 

With a half jump and his help, you managed to wrap your legs around his trim waist, locking your ankles behind his back as you marveled at his strength and the way he was able to hold you one hand. The heat of his body leaked through both sets of your clothes, warming your core and inner thighs deliciously as you unconsciously squeezed around him when he nipped at your lower lip as he pulled back slightly. 

“Christ, you’re fucking perfect for me,” you heard him mumble as he kissed down your neck, and you stretched up and away from him, baring yourself. With each kiss there was a slight scrape of his teeth, ending when he nipped your collar bone then traced back up the column of your neck with his nose, mirroring his actions from the pub. 

John’s mouth returned to yours, and his hand slipped further up to cup your ass, squeezed the pliant flesh there. His wide hands stretched over the roundness of your ass, the tips of his thick fingers millimeters away from stroking your core and you squirmed in his arms before you could even realize what you were doing. The motion pushed his hips against you even harder and you felt the barest hint of his hard length push against the underside of your thigh. In a singular, rather impressive motion, he suddenly had the hand next to your head tucked on your hip between you and the door and he was rolling against your heat, pulling both of you back and slamming you back into the door. 

Almost detachedly you heard a thick moan leave your throat as he was rougher with you than he had been before. This, this was exactly what you needed. You could still feel his need, his desperation, his care for you before his actions, but he was giving you just what you’d asked for. Not holding back, not making you feel like you were some damaged, injured delicate flower, just someone who he was so passionate about that he couldn’t hold back. 

Your hands roughly scratched against his back, one dipping down his collar so you could feel his skin against yours. The kiss was turning semi feral, as both of you nipped and played with each other, a delighted, choked sound leaving you when his hand came back up and pulled your hair just slightly from the base. As much as you were enjoying the kiss, an idea formed in your head and once it was there there was no way it was leaving. 

Carefully, not wanting to ruin the moment by falling over, you unwrapped your free leg from his waist and stood on the floor, then tapped his hand on your other leg, indicating you wanted him to let go. 

“Where do you think you’re going,” he grumbled, his beard tickling your neck as he kissed you there between words. 

“You’ll like it, trust me.” 

“Always do,” he replied, and your heart swelled at his words, even as he let your other leg down, albeit seemingly reluctantly. 

You pecked him on the lips in thanks, before running your hands down his neck and to his shoulders, following the same route down his neck with kisses. He shivered with your contact, briefly wondering if anyone had ever cared about him in the way he felt care radiate from you. He was pretty sure he could stay here all day, just enjoying the relatively chaste kisses you laid on him, and his hand squeezing you as he palmed your waist with one of them. John’s eyes had closed in peaceful bliss but they shot open as he hissed when your wandering hands dropped down, one lingering and running over his abs, the other going straight to run your fingers over the impressive outline of his cock in his jeans. The touch was feather light through the fabric, but he groaned, his free hand slapping the door next to your head once again as he shuddered under your explorations. 

Satisfied as hell with his reaction, you grinned as you met his eyes before sinking slowly to your knees. Trapped in the cage of his body, pinned between him and the door, you still somehow felt so powerful as you watched his chest heave as he stared down at you. 

“Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to-….”

Your second hand joined your first as you still maintained eye contact with him, unbuckling his belt before popping his button undone with a thumb, opening his jeans just enough to show his clothed cock. Leaning forwards, you found yourself torn between teasing him and just how bad you wanted each other as you gently kissed the length of him through the fabric. Searching fingers slipped under his waistband, sliding the tips of your digits from the outside to inside of his hips. 

“This is supposed to be about-…” John started, but lost his train of thought as he looked down at you.

God, you wanted to take your time. Make him feel as desperate as he made you feel, work him up until he just couldn’t take it anymore, make him come in your mouth to feel the satisfaction of how you made him fall apart. His need was obvious but you just felt such a pull to him, you couldn’t imagine that he felt it as strongly as you felt for him, and you wanted to give him the same treatment. 

One hand slid up to his hip, dipping under his waist band again, whilst the other one palmed his shockingly hard length, running along his his cock with just the thin barrier of his boxers between you and him. The heat coming off of him was astronomical, and you made sure to keep your eye contact with him as you watched his pupils fully dilate with lust, black taking over the pretty blue. Slowly, just to tease him a little more, you pushed your hand fully into the elastic of his boxers, gripping the band to pull them down, letting his cock bounce free. Your last thought was how lucky you were and what a nice fucking cock he had before you leaned forward, licking a long strip up the underside from base to tip, ending with wrapping you lips around the tip with a swirl of your tongue. 

“Oh, fuck,” John groaned, and finally broke eye contact with you when his head fell forward, hitting the door with a thump. 

Stifling a grin, you wrapped your lips around his tip again, using your tongue to tease the underside of his head. One hand came up to rest against his hip, the other gently gripping his base, holding him still as you started to bob your head back and forth. Taking just a little more of him each time you moved back down his length, careful to breath through your nose when he started to get deeper. 

A stuttering groan came out of the man above you and you glanced up to see he was one again looking down at you, but a whole lot less composed than he had before. A fact that you took great pride in. His free hand came up almost absently, resting against the back of your head. No pressure, not even really guiding you, just resting. But you wanted that passion he’d given you before, so you covered his hand with yours, encouraging him to push and thrust into your mouth a little. 

“Jesus, love, trying to kill me?” John rasped, his normal hoarse voice gone even more growly. You hummed around him and he chuckled. 

“Don’t want to hurt you love. Tap here once for green, twice for yellow and 3 for red, ok?” he touched your hand, squeezing it where it sat on his hip. “What colour are you now?” 

You tried to answer him without thinking about the fact that your mouth was currently rather occupied, and it came out more as a garbled groan than words. 

“Right here, love,” he chuckled, holding you still by your hair as he tapped your hand. 

You tapped his hip once, making eye contact with him so he knew that you were serious, and actually paying attention. 

“Good girl. Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sight,” he said as he gathered your hair in his hand, keeping his grip close to your scalp so he didn’t hurt you accidentally. 

Gently, John started to thrust, using the push of his hips combined with the pressure of his hand in your hair simultaneously. With both his hips and hands working in sync you felt utterly surrounded, and utterly content. Letting him guide you and worry about the logistics meant you could relax into him, the constant noise that had been in your head lately melting away. You kept your eyes on John as you felt the slide of his cock over your tongue, marveling at the way that you could take this man apart, even without having any control over the act. Not that that was really true, you never once felt like you were the one who was powerless with John, quite the opposite. But you basked in the illusion, nevertheless. 

John scoured your face as he pushed just a little harder, pausing to admire you as he buried himself in your warm mouth. The way your lips stretched around his cock, the way you relaxed into him, trust in your eyes… the whole combination was getting him very worked up, very fast. For not the first time, he couldn’t believe how you made him feel like a school boy again, inexperienced and far, far too excited. But, unfortunately or maybe fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, not only did you make him feel things ten times more than he was expecting, this wasn’t the fumbling of nervous teenagers. No, you were incredible, somehow knowing what he wanted, no needed before he even did. The combination was short circuiting his brain in a way he wasn’t quite sure how to even handle as he started to slowly pump his length in and out of you once more, valiantly thinking of cold showers, and weeks in the field, anything to stave off the pressure that was building. 

Something that wasn’t helped when he suddenly noticed the way you were squirming on your knees. Feeling the way John was reacting to your ministrations, seeing the heaving of his sculpted chest as he tried to catch his breath, every positive reaction that you were pulling from him was getting to you. You could feel the wetness pooled in your underwear, both from John’s kisses earlier and how turned on you were getting from giving John pleasure, and his reaction to it. Subconsciously, your eyes drifted shut as you lost yourself slightly, and you moaned around his cock as one particular movement finally gave you some friction against your aching core, your underwear slipping against your clit. 

John let out a string of expletives and you suddenly found yourself with an empty mouth. Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of John fisting the base of his cock, leaning heavily against the doorframe with his eyes squeezed shut. 

“I am not going to last if you do things like that,” he ground out.

“Isn’t that kind of the point?”

“Not when this night is supposed to be all about you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes and looking down at you. “Quit lookin’ like the cat that got the cream.” He tried to look sternly at you, but he failed pretty damn quickly when you were still at eye level with his cock, grinning like you couldn’t be happier. 

“Its hard not to when this is the reaction I get,” you raised an eyebrow, biting your lip to stop the smile from growing anymore. 

John shook his head, then tucked himself back into his jeans, leaving the top button undone to show a tantalizing peak of skin and hair. How, after actively having his cock in your mouth, you still got excited about something as relatively benign as a piece of skin was beyond you. Something you’d have to take up with your infatuation with this man and your crazed libido later. 

“Let’s see if you still look so smug after you get the same treatment, shall we?” he asked, suddenly hauling you up by your arms pits, a surprised squeak leaving you as he picked you all the way up.

He held you by your shoulders, turning you so you were further in the house than he was, and facing the stairs. You took a few steps, just managing to get up the first step, before he smacked you, somewhat gently, on the ass. 

“What was that for?” you exclaimed over your shoulder, mock indignantly.

“An encouragement to get your pretty ass moving,” John said, crowding you as you slowed down. “Or I’m going to end up fucking you on the stairs.” 

Surprise forcing your movements, you stopped on the stairs and turned to face John. He was basically at eye level with you on the stairs above him, and you met his striking blue eyes. 

“As much as I like the sound of that, I don’t know if I feel like having rug burn on my knees tonight,” you replied, quirking an eyebrow.

“And I’m supposed to be the old one,” he teased, facial hair moving as his lips moved to that half smile you loved so much.  

“I won’t hold it against you if you don’t hold it against me,” you replied, holding his face with both hands, kissing him again. 

“As persuasive as that is,” John said, pulling back after a moment, “If you don’t get upstairs and let me enjoy that sweet pussy I may have to resort to more drastic measures.”

He raised his eyebrows as you as you paused, images of him throwing you over his shoulder flitting through your head, deciding whether or not you wanted to push it. After a moment, he gave you an extremely good impression of a dad look, like he was seconds away from giving you a countdown, and you cracked a smile. 

“Ok, ok, I’m going,” you laughed, turning to climb the rest of the stairs. Maybe next time you’d see what would happen if you followed through. You had a feeling you’d, enjoy it after all. 

Moments later you were back in his arms, this time at the side of your bed, John wrapping you in his embrace from behind, his lips on your neck. 

“Strip,” he rumbled into your ear, releasing the pressure around you as he took a step back. 

Hurriedly, you complied with his request, turning to face him once you were naked, and he crowded you backwards again, the backs of your knees bumping into the side of the bed. A hand on your shoulder had you sitting down, and John followed you, pressing your back into the bed as his lips went to your neck once again. This time, he didn’t hold you close though, and your back arched into the sensation. The bed dipped next to your hip as John propped himself up on one knee, his mouth moving down and laying kisses across your clavicle as he gathered you hands into his. Pushing your arms over your head, he put both of your wrists into one of his hands, using a little pressure to keep you where you were. 

The movement had a two fold reaction in your body, neither one you had any control over. The first was a throb in your core, attraction to him and his possessiveness innate to your very being. The second, annoyingly, was a lot less positive, your body tensing as your thoughts skipped momentarily to the last time that you had your wrists bound. It was just a second, and almost immediately you were able to banish the thought, focusing on the positive feelings flowing through you. Lord knows there were enough. But it was enough for John to notice, as in tune with you as he was.

“Colour?” John murmured, propping himself up on an arm so he could properly look at you, the pressure on your wrists loosening slightly. 

“Yellow… I trust you but a little in my head about this,” you confessed quietly, flexing your hands to show where the problem was. Immediately, he let go, intertwining his fingers with yours instead. 

“Good girl, thank you for telling me,” he kissed your forehead, then down to your lips again, before pulling back to talk. “How about I tell you to hold your arms over your head, and there’ll be consequences if you don’t, rather than me holding them.”

“I- yeah,” you swallowed, eyes going wide with lust. 

John kissed you again, hard, hand tracing down your arms to cup your face, forcing your chin up as he deepened the kiss. After pausing there just long enough to have you panting underneath him, he continued down, both with his lips and now both of his hands. One moved to your hip, his mouth trailing to tease the side of your breast, as the other hand went to your other hip. Vaguely, you felt his knee slide off the bed again, but you were distracted by the feeling of his mouth surrounding your nipple. It hardened under his ministrations as he flicked it with his tongue, gently sucking as he raised off, giving the same attention to the other side. This time as he pulled off there was a brief feeling of teeth as he nipped you and you shuddered underneath him, head pushing back into the bed as you arched, chasing the sensation. 

He was already moving, though, laying quick, soft kisses down your stomach, until he reached your hips. Tilting your head up, you saw him rearrange himself on his knees, getting comfortable as he swung one leg over his shoulder. The other one he pushed wide with a hang hooked into the meat of you thigh, opening you up for him. 

“Christ, you’re so wet for me,” he mumbled, kissing the inner thigh of the leg over his shoulder absently, never taking his eyes off your core. 

Somehow, your brain managed to form a coherent thought that wasn’t just how much you wanted his mouth on you. 

“This doesn’t seem like a very fair level of nakedness,” you huffed, rubbing your heel on his back, still covered by his shirt. 

John’s eyes flicked up to yours, though he was loathe to look anywhere but your cunt. One hand lifted your leg off his shoulder, the other reached behind his head, pulling his shirt off one handed using a magic that you weren’t fully in the right mind to understand. 

“Better?”

“Much.” 

“Good, now hush, and let me make you come.” John wrapped his arm around your thigh again, securing it to his shoulder, and finally, finally his mouth was on you. 

There was no teasing, no build up, just straight into an open mouthed kiss on your entrance, and both of you moaned. As he closed his mouth, his tongue came out, licking a stripe up your soaked core, flicking at your clit before fulling closing on it to sooth you as you jerked at the contact. There was no real reprieve though, as he flattened his tongue, moving the slick muscle against your sensitive bud, the movements sloppy with your combined wetness, but precise enough to make your pleasure immediately shoot higher. 

You always loved the way he ate you out, acting like it was the first and last time he’d ever be able to touch you, desperate for you and for your pleasure, but he was like a man starved tonight. You couldn’t get enough of his movements, his tongue and lips and occasionally, very gently, his teeth, against your clit driving you further towards your climax. When he slid down, away from your clit to your entrance, you wanted to mourn the loss of contact, but he didn’t give you any time. His tongue hardened, and slipped inside you just slightly, and John groaned as he tasted you from the source. The hand on your leg moved, running up so that your thigh was still bracketed against his shoulder and bicep, unable to move, but his fingers came to your apex, allowing him to run his thumb gently over your clit. 

The sensation hit you like a freight train, and before you could even think about his orders from earlier, your hand came down, smacking the bed next to you as your entire body shuddered, back arching. And then, just as fast as it had come on, all the sensation left as John sat back, his hand resting on your belly instead of touching you where you wanted it. 

“What did I say?” 

How the fuck did he sound so calm?? You were pretty sure you couldn’t string two words together, let alone sound so calm. Maybe that was what he got from working such a high stress job, an ability to stay composed in a firefight and when he was this close to coming?

While your brain whirled, John watched you, making sure that you weren’t too far gone and this was pleasure, not something he had to be concerned about and check in with you for. Satisfied, he pressed slightly harder onto your stomach, ensuring that you couldn’t move too much, and, with his other hand flat, he lightly tapped your soaked cunt. 

The effect was immediate, you spasmed, a choked gasp coming out of you involuntarily as your head shot up to look at him. 

“I asked you a question, love.” 

You blinked at him, processing what the hell was happening. There was no denying you liked what he’d just done, you were just so surprised that he’d done it, you were having a hard time getting your thoughts in order.

“To keep my hands up,” you said, slowly, answering his original question. 

“And what did I say would happen if you didn’t?”

“That there would be consequences,” you murmured, staring down at him, suddenly fascinated by all the little notes that told you he wasn’t actually as composed as he seemed. John’s shoulders heaved, forced up and down by how hard he was breathing. His shoulders had always been the indicator to you of just how functionally fit he was, he might not have a gym physique, which you loved, but the corded muscles in his shoulders and chest told of just how strong he was. And those muscles were straining right now, twitching as he held himself together. Pupils blown wide, he also was having a hard time actually keeping his gaze on you, you watched as it momentarily flicked down to where you were spread wide open for him. 

Slowly, before he could correct you, you raised your hands again, one hand gripping the opposite wrist as they settled above your head once more. 

“Good girl. Didn’t want to have to stop completely.”

“Me nei- fuck!” 

Your thought got cut short as the hand on your cunt slipped downwards, his middle finger pushing easily into you with how wet you were. John lowered his head again, his mouth going back to your clit, and though you shook slightly, legs flexing against him, you managed to keep your hands above your head. Tongue still moving against you, he immediately slid another finger into you, and as ready for him as you were you barely even felt it, just a bit of extra pressure. What you absolutely did feel though was the way he curled those fingers up, working them for a surprisingly short amount of time before he felt what he was looking for. You clenched around him at the burst of pleasure, a high moan escaping before you could even think about it. Apparently he’d decided the time for teasing you was over and now he was determined to make you come, and fast.

But your body was absolutely on board with that, and you could practically feel the orgasm flowing throughout your body as he guided you closer to that precipice. Tongue and lips and hands moving together, he was insatiable, and you couldn’t get enough. John, lost as he was in your taste and feel, knew you were getting close when you started to tense, no longer squirming and making as much noise as you chased your high. He didn’t change a thing from that moment, keeping the pressure and pace that was obviously working for you as he coaxed you to come for him. 

It wasn’t long before your orgasm broke, defenseless to him once he locked in on exactly what was working for you. The tide rose inside you, your back arching from the bed, hand white knuckling your wrist even as you forced yourself to keep your hands up, thigh flexing against where his facial hair scratched your skin, the sensation exponentially more potent and you came against his face and fingers. John felt you come around him, fingers moving to kept the pleasure going, even as he carefully slowed his ministrations just slightly,  keeping your climax rolling instead of making you over sensitive. 

Even so, eventually it was too much for you and you risked moving your hands to trace through his hair, pushing him back gently whilst you tried to regain your bearings. As you did, you tilted your head up, watching him stand and undress himself with his clean hand. John’s movements were jerky, in a hurry but not coordinated enough to actually move fast. After what felt like an unreasonable amount of time he was undressed, and you were starting to get your mind right, just in time to see him lick his hand, still covered in you. He groaned at your taste, before wrapping the same hand around his hard cock, slicking himself with both his spit and your come. 

The clean hand dropped next to your head as he loomed above you, but you were focused on the way he stroked himself, hand moving slowly up and down, gripping when he reached the base. Unsure if you were actually breathing, you watched as he paused, holding himself tight to stop from coming as pre-come beaded at the tip. Fucking hell, you were never going to get enough of this man. 

“Roll over,” he commanded, and you looked up just to see him staring down at you like he was barely holding himself together. 

There was zero room in your fucked out brain to argue, and as your turned, you felt more than saw him wipe his hand off, before he gripped your hip as you settled on your front, half on, half off the bed. John’s other hand mirrored himself, grasping you by the hips on both sides, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass as he spread you open. 

“Fuck, you look fucking perfect.” 

Hands flexing, you gripped the duvet underneath you as you felt his cock against you, sliding forwards between your folds as he slicked himself up with your come. 

“This ok, love?” John asked, leaning forward on one elbow by your ear. He was worried he was crowding you too much, attempting to not lose himself in just how much he wanted you.

“God, fuck, yes John, please fuck me,” you begged, slightly surprised by the words that were coming out of your mouth. There was just nothing else on your mind other than how much you wanted to filled by him. Which was exactly where John wanted you. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he replied, one hand snaking to hold his length, positioning himself at your entrance. 

You felt the head of him push against you, the stretch as he slid the first thick inch of him inside, but he paused with just the tip in as you struggled to catch your breath. 

“More,” you barely even registered yourself saying the word, but John complied. 

The pressure was delicious as he pushed further inside, stretching you even with the amount of prep you had had. You were so wet that there was barely any friction to start, but he was still thick, and still you felt every inch that he moved, steady, until he bottomed out. Both of you paused, trying to catch your respective breath as you adjusted to being filled. After a moment you felt John’s lips against your shoulder, tender kisses laid there as he anchored you, before pulling back again. Just as slow as the first time he entered you, you felt every inch as he retreated, leaving just the tip in again, before he thrust in again. The movement was a whole lot faster than the first thrusts, and you gasped, pussy clenching around him, but loving the new vigor he started to move at. 

In and out, his thrusts became stronger, never really speeding up that much, just moving with purpose. John’s elbow remained next to your head, his other hand coming up to lace into your hair as he tucked his head into you neck. You felt a few kisses laid against your heated skin as he continued to drive himself into you, but more than that you heard his broken moans and heavy breathing. The way he sounded was as broken as you felt, and you groaned, clenching around him again at the idea that he was feeling this as much as you were. Taking apart the stoic John Price, the man who had a hold of everything and control over all parts of his life was a high that you simply would never get over. He almost whined, much to his contrition, when you clenched, but it did nothing but propel you towards the feeling of yet another orgasm. 

The feeling started deep within you, where he was sliding against your sweet spot, but you felt him shift, slipping one hand down to move against your clit. The action did nothing but push you closer to your release, your cunt flexing around his length completely involuntarily. The heat and weight of him, completely flush against your back felt so far from stifling, it felt like safety, comfort, and something so intrinsically him. He pushed further into you, both his cock and into your back as he felt you continue to clench around him, and all it took was another gasped whine from him and a few more swipes of his fingers before you were coming again. 

John wished that he was a younger man, maybe not so affected by you. Something. Anything. But then maybe you wouldn’t effect him in this way, and he wouldn’t give that up for the world as you squeezed his cock, the feeling practically blinding him as you came around him, the rush of wetness making it even easier for him to fuck you. And fuck you he did, satisfied that you obviously felt good, speeding up as you rode the waves of your orgasm. The back and forth drag of his cock threw you towards overstimulation, but it felt so good, and you weren’t sure anymore if this was one continuous orgasm or if you were simply rolling into a second one. If he hadn’t been so affected by you maybe he could have thought out what was happening with you and how he could make you feel better. But John was so lose to your cunt, spasming around his length, and there was not a single thought left in him as he chased his climax. 

The first twitch of his cock inside you signaled his orgasm, and you struggled to keep your composure as John came inside you. There was a part of you that wished you could see him coming, the way it overtook his usually so composed self was addicting. But you were more than happy to settle for the wrecked noises he was making in your ear as he slowed, the orgasm making him shudder and lose some of his motor functions. The elbow next to your head dropped slightly, but he caught himself before he dropped all his weight on you. Not that you would have particularly minded. You weren’t sure how you initially felt about your wrists being restrained but this was so far from that, and there was something so intrinsically comforting about having his weight on you. Like a hot, living breathing weighted blanket. 

Slowly, John came back to his senses, muttering a quick question to you to make sure you were alright. You hummed an affirmative, reaching back with a hand to squeeze his hand as a double reassurance. Satisfied with your answer, he carefully, aware of your twitching, drew himself out of you. There was a brief moment where his brain short circuited as he stood, watching his spend leak out of your pussy, and he thought about fucking it back into you, claiming you in every way. But he could tell you were exhausted. And there would always be next time. 

Instead, he laid down next to you, legs hanging off the bed and very aware just how out of breath he was, and watched you cross your arms under your chin, tilting your face to look at him. 

“How are you doing?” he said gently, scanning your face as you answered. 

“Fantastic. Amazing. Thoroughly fucked,” you replied, cracking a smile as you rolled onto your side, feeling the way the slick and spend between your legs move. Christ, you were going to need to take a shower. 

“I’m being serious,” John grinned a very not serious grin as he rolled his head over to look at you. 

“So am I,” you shot back. “I… tonight was perfect,” your gaze slid down and back up, unable for a moment to actually look at him for god knows what reason. 

“You certainly know how to make a man feel good about himself,” he teased, rolling onto his side to mirror you. 

“Not just the sex. Though that was pretty incredible.” You winked, smiling at the way he blushed, just slightly, above the facial hair. “I just needed something like this. I’m not so disillusioned to think this is going to completely fix all the shit, but just feeling normal is amazing.” 

“You know I want to be there for you, in anyway I can. I do sort of feel like this is the least I could do, after everything that you went through,” John sighed as he spoke. He wasn’t sure the guilt would ever fully go away, even though he logically knew it wasn’t really his fault what happened to you. 

“ The least, along with, you know, coming to rescue me like a knight in shining armor from my kidnappers?” It was easy for you to read him, see the turmoil underneath his hard exterior. 

“Guess I didn’t think about that part,” he admitted, looking down as he brought his arm under his head, settling his face into his impressive bicep. “Not exactly different from the rest of my job. Other than it was you, which was very different.”

“Exactly. Very different, and very important for me,” you said, reaching to cup his cheek with your outside hand, thumb smoothing his facial hair. 

John sighed, both from the comforting movement, and thinking too hard this late at night. His brain wasn’t fully functioning as he talked again. 

“Call me old fashioned, but I want to protect those I love, and thats all there is to it for me.” 

Both of your eyes widened comically as he belatedly realized what he’d said. 

“Love?” you quietly asked, fighting for your life to keep the smile off of your face as your thumb stilled, holding his gaze to you.  

“I… shit, yeah,” John sighed, wanting to pull away, but stuck by your hand and the hopeful way you were looking at him. “I know, it’s early but I know I’ve never felt like this about anyone. You complete me in a way I’m not sure how to handle.”

Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly how you feel. I love you too,” you were proud of how sure you sounded. Because you were, 1000% certain. But it was an emotional moment. “And it doesn’t matter if it’s early, we’ve been through more shit than most people do in an entire relationship together. So I think we’re allowed to be on a slightly different page than most.” 

John wanted to say something. Something profound, that encompassed the moment and made everything perfect. But he wasn’t a poet, he was a solider and a man of action. So all he could think to do was lean forward, pressing his lips to yours, gently as he could as he slipped one hand around your waist, drawing you to him. 

You basked in the feeling, both physically and emotionally, returning the deep, sweet kiss he laid on you. But after a while, as the kiss started to turn into roaming hands, both of you pulled back. 

“I don’t know if I’m up to another round,” you admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“Glad you said it,” he said, giving you a half smile. “I didn’t want to be the one to say I needed some sleep.” 

“Don’t worry, old man, I got you,” you teased, smacking his chest lightly.

“Still with that,” he mock complained, grabbing and kissing your palm. 

The next while was filled with quiet words, slow movements, as you first went to shower, rinsing yourself off at least to the point where you could fall asleep. You didn’t have much more in yourself than that, but you had a feeling John wouldn’t mind. When you came out of the bathroom, John had produced a glass of water, plugged your phone in, and informed you that he had let Ollie out. God, you loved that man. 

While he took his turn to get ready for bed you fought sleep, and as soon as he climbed into bed, you were right there, snuggling up to his side as he laid on his back, an arm coming around you to tuck you in close to him.

“Love you, John,” you murmured, brain mostly asleep as you cuddled into him.  

“I love you too,” he returned, and both of you fell asleep, content and as happy as you’d ever imagined being.