#under covers

John's grip on the steering wheel hadn't budged in almost 2 hours. That was the last time they had stopped for the most tense fuel stop any of them had ever experienced. 

The mission was technically a success. Technically. The suits above them would certainly think so. But with Gaz definitely needing stitches and no place to go, John was having a hard time seeing it that way. 

As he stared out at the empty expanse of the road ahead of him, his foot still planted heartily on the gas, he struggled to see how the hell it had gone so sideways. He glanced at the passenger seat at Ghost who was still wide awake and staring out through the windshield. John moved his eyes up to the rearview mirror, catching Soap's attention. His sergeant gave him a small nod, indicating Gaz was still doing alright in the backseat. 

The four of them were probably well out of range of the last remaining targets they had to abandon, the base they had infiltrated and subsequently destroyed was left way back at the US/Mexico border. But Price's adrenaline hadn't been fully washed from the blood pumping through his chest. He steadied the car and eased up on the pedal as a police car whizzed past them, lights on and sirens blaring. That's the last kind of attention they needed.

4 foreign soldiers with unregistered weapons in a stolen car on the tail end of an unsanctioned mission. 

"The hell are we going?" Ghost piped up suddenly, clearly growing restless as his large frame was squished into the unforgivingly small passenger seat of the sedan they lifted. 

"Don't even think he's got a destination on the mind," Soap groaned from the backseat.

"Nah," Gaz coughed, "He's always got a plan. Right Captain?"

The question prompted a sigh from Price. He did  have a destination in mind, but there were so many potential issues that came with their arrival it was enough to make his palms prick with sweat. Somewhere, in the back recesses of his brain, John knew that one day he'd have to explain himself, at least to his team. 

"Listen up," he said, finally stretching his fingers. 

The men in the backseat shifted a bit, Soap aiding Gaz the best he could without disturbing the knife wound on his arm that was currently only being held together with some liquid stitch and the torn hem of a t-shirt. Without having to look, Price could feel Ghost turn to him expectantly.

"I've got a place in mind. But it comes with problems." Price said gruffly, earning a few questionable looks thrown his way so he pushed on, bracing himself for the questioning that was sure to come.

"Remember when I was sent on that undercover mission? Little over a year ago?" they nodded, gave him a few noises of understanding, "Well I know they never told ya anything about it. But it was in Texas."

"You got a safe house out here?" Ghost asked, giving Price some pause. 

"Not really." he said, one hand coming up to run over his beard.

"What then? A motel?" Soap piped up.

"No." was all that came out of his mouth. He chastised himself for not just spitting it out.

"What then? Jesus, Price." Ghost said, shaking his head. After a long pause, Price took in a breath and unloaded.

"I was here for that whole fuckin' time. 10 months. And any time I wanted a second to myself, I'd drive an hour outside the city and go to a bar in some little nowhere town. No one from that syndicate would have been caught dead there, and everyone kept to themselves enough that it didn't really matter who I was." Price paused again, pondering on how much to explain everything that happened with you. The boys remained silent, but tuned in to their Captain. 

"And less than a month in, I met a woman in the bar," he said, rolling his eyes at the 'ohh' of realization that went through the car like a smoke bomb, "And I- I just - I tried. Fuck, I tried to let it go. To just let her walk past but I just couldn't. And one month turned into nine before I could even blink." he sighed, knowing that didn't clear much up.

"You were seeing her for the whole mission?" Ghost said, physically turning to Price in his seat. Price nodded solemnly.

"So wherever we're going has to do with her?" Soap asked, "How the hell did you keep that cover up for that time?" he continued making Price stiffen so bad he almost stopped the car. This was the part he was dreading. He had no problem with them knowing he had a woman in his company while undercover, that was more commonplace than people might think. But he had broken the rules.

"There was no cover to keep." he said quickly, sighing again when his lieutenant asked flatly for an explanation, "I didn't - I told her everything." 

"You what!?" All three men asked loudly, earning a groan from Price.

"I told her everything. I couldn't fucking help it. So she knew my real name, my real voice, everything. I didn't tell her anything about the mission but she didn't even ask about that. And when the mission was up, they extracted me so fast I - we never squared anything away." he said, not able to hide the regret in his voice. He'd spent the last six months thinking that you must hate him, for involving you in a relationship that was doomed from the start. For leaving without even a simple goodbye fuck.

What he didn't mention was that he told you everything after the first time he bedded you. Hearing someone else's name falling from your kiss-swollen lips had felt like torture. Torture he couldn't endure for even one more night. He didn't mention that the way you had looked at him that night made him reconsider ever going back to England. He didn't mention that he had bought you a little silver ring, as he drunkenly promised you a forever you both knew wasn't in the cards. 

He also didn't mention that he loved you. But one of his keen sergeants was already sniffing him out, despite the blood loss.

"Did you love her?" he heard Gaz ask hoarsely. John's grip on the steering wheel suddenly just as tight as before.

"Yes." he answered simply, "And we're taking a chance here. It's been a long time. No contact. So I - she could tell us to turn right around and fuck off. She could have moved, in a new relationship, who knows."

That last option made his stomach churn.

You'd still be in that farmhouse, you'd forgive him, and you'd still love him.

If none of that was true John wasn't sure how the hell he'd live the rest of his life. 

Soon, the roads became familiar. The highway stretch John knew so well, having worn the tires on his truck bald breaking speed laws to get to your bedroom.

He'd never felt a feeling like this, a strange and intoxicating mixture of excitement and dread, a mixture that began to manifest in the sweat beading through the skin on his palms as he turned onto the long dirt and gravel drive up to the farmhouse he'd spent plenty of nights in.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It was sundown, and you couldn't find your fucking cat. 

Granted, he was a barn cat, so him going MIA wasn't really that unheard of. But while you had been cleaning out an empty stall you kept hearing him crying out for help. He was clearly stuck somewhere, but you simply couldn't find where. Eventually, after about 20 minutes of searching, you located him stuck in the bottom of a rain barrel. 

"You're damn lucky this thing is bone dry." you frowned at him, getting a meow in response. Leaning over fully and folding over the edge of the massive container, bent at the waist and reaching for the ball of fur at the bottom. With your head inside the barrel you didn't hear the approaching tires until you stood. 

You weren't expecting company, but people out here had a tendency to show up unannounced so it wasn't an unfamiliar sight. What was an unfamiliar sight was the car itself. A little black Toyota you hadn't seen before. Frowning, you set the cat down and he pawed his way back into the barn with a chirp. With one hand coming up to your face to block the light from the sunset you squinted towards the car. Once your eyes focused on the driver you felt like you needed to get your eyes checked.

John fucking Price. In your driveway.

He wasn't alone, sitting next to him was a man wearing a balaclava with a skull printed on it, and there are two men in the backseat, and all of them were looking at you. You stood there in shock as John rolled the car to a stop, opening the door without shutting the damn thing off.

 He had stopped a little ways from you, and the ginger way in which he walked towards you gave you caution. He held his hands up to you as if you were holding a gun that was trained on him. 

As soon as he was close enough to you that you could see the blue in those eyes, it felt like a lifetime of memories washed over you all at once. Ten thousand thoughts ran rampant in your brain as he spoke to you, that rich accent finding its way into the folds of your brain like it never left. 

There were flecks of dirt and blood across his handsome face, and despite anything you maybe should have felt seeing the man who left you high and dry for the last six months, the tears that pricked the corners of your eyes fled over your waterline the second you heard him speak your name. 

You closed the space between the two of you and wrapped him in a hug so tight you thought he might pop. Your hands clasped his shoulder and the back of his head, as you felt him sigh and lean into your arms. You would have thought you were dreaming if the warmth of his arms around your waist didn't bring you back down to Earth, tethering you there. 

Pulling you back and placing his hands on either side of your face, John looked down at you as if he couldn't believe you were real. His thumbs gently swiped at your eyes, wiping the tears away as they fell.

"Hi." you said breathlessly, not knowing what the hell else you were supposed to say in this moment.

"Hi." he parroted back to you, laughing softly as you did. There was a beat as you both studied each other's faces, and it took all your strength to not pull him against your lips right there. You had so many questions, but your attention flickered to the movement in the car behind him.

"You brought company." you noted, and that seemed to snap him back.

"I did." he nodded, "And one of them might need stitches." that sentence making your eyebrows shoot up. 

"Jesus. Okay," you said, letting go of him and gesturing to the garage, "Park it on the left side so no one sees it. I gotta close up the barn so no one gets out." you said, not wanting to waste any of the injured man's time. You turned to walk into the barn behind you, but John reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you.

"Thank you." he said softly, and before you could reply he was the one to break, giving in and pulling your lips towards his.

He tasted just like he did the last time you saw him. You held in a moan as you relished in the familiarity of the tobacco on your lips, steeling yourself enough to pull away. He frowned slightly and you laughed at his expression.

"Stitches?" you said, nodding to the car. He sighed and nodded, getting the point.

While he pulled the car into the garage, you made sure the two horses you had left in the barn were happy and secure before closing up for the night. You frowned at your barn cat as he seemed to grin at you cheekily before running up to the loft. 

By the time you made it up the front porch steps and to the front door, John and his other three men were making their way to you. You held the door and watched them walk over. The one with the injury was looking worse for wear, held up by his friend with the mohawk. You tried to dig in the recesses of your brain to remember the names you had heard John mention. The only name that was coming to mind was 'Ghost', which you figured was the big one with the skull mask on.  

You waved them inside, telling them to sit at the kitchen table once they crossed the threshold. Once in, John introduced them and you almost laughed at your accurate placement of the name Ghost. The injured one was named Gaz and the one with the mohawk was called Soap. You cocked a brow at John expectantly and he smirked before telling you their actual names were Simon, Johnny, and Kyle.

"I'm assuming you are my friend that needs some stitching up?" you said, placing a gentle hand on Kyle's shoulder.

"You know how to sew stitches?" he asked meekly, forehead glistening with sweat.

"I'm alright," you said, moving your head back and forth, "But don't take my word for it. Your Captain has received a few of my amateur stitches and he's just fine." you smiled, standing back up to squeeze John around the waist, your head resting against his shoulder.

"She knows." he said, short, sweet, and to the point. He hadn't changed a bit. 

As you washed your hands, the three other men waited patiently. Watching you as you laid down a clean towel and eased Kyle's injured arm onto the plush fabric. He had a blood soaked dressing wrapped around his wound, and as you cut it away you gave a little sigh of relief.

"Okay, that's not too bad! You'll only need a couple stitches." you smiled at Kyle, who gave you a small nod which made you frown a bit, leaning in to look at his eyes. He wasn't cold to your touch which was good, but even under the brown of his skin you could see a grey tinge creeping in around his eyes. You had no idea how long they'd been traveling or how much blood he'd lost. Best to call the town doctor in the morning to do a home visit, he was an old family friend who never asked any questions. 

"What's your blood type?" you asked Kyle, trying to gauge how present he was. 

"He's -" John started, but you held a finger up to stop him.

"Kyle, sweetie, do you remember your blood type?" you repeated, softer this time, indicating you wanted Kyle to be the one to answer. He blinked at you a few times before nodding.

"B negative." he said meekly, and you glanced up at John to make sure the answer was right. He nodded and you returned the gesture. 

"Okay." you sighed, standing up again to grab Kyle a glass of water, "You three don't need to stick around. Go get your things, shower, whatever you need." You waved a hand in their direction. None of them moved, making you sigh as you sat back down.

"I'm serious. I don't need the three of you breathing down my neck while I do this. Go. John knows where everything is." you said sharply. You noted the surprise in Johnny and Simon's faces when John sighed and told them to get their packs from the car. Despite the confusion, they obliged.

Once you didn't have anyone staring at you, you smiled at Kyle.

"You'll be fine." you nodded, "And I'm sure you already know this but, this isn't gonna feel great." 

"Yeah I know," he laughed softly, making you smile. 

"How long ago did you get this?" you asked, fingers moving on their own as you cleaned off the busted liquid stitch around the edges of the cut. 

"Dunno. 'Bout 4 hours?" he said, making you raise an eyebrow.

"Not terrible. Not great either." was all you said. 

Once you were done and Kyle was all stitched up and clean, the three other men had showered and were back in the kitchen. As Kyle cleaned himself off, you opened your fridge and pulled out all the leftovers you had available. 

Tutting at their remarks of 'you don't need to do that', you started heating food up in the microwave before setting things on the table for them. You'd already eaten dinner, so you moved to clean off some dishes in the sink as they ate through everything you had to offer. You smiled to yourself as you felt a pair of arms slide in around your waist. 

"I thought I told you to eat?" you murmured as John placed his forehead on your shoulder with another deep sigh.

"I can't." he said, making you shake your head. You knew him well enough to know he didn't feel right eating while you cleaned. 

"John." you said, turning to him, "Eat. Please. Before there's nothing left." 

That earned you a small laugh from him. You had always told him how handsome he was when he wasn't scowling, when his smile crinkled his eyes.

"We'll talk later, yeah?" he said softly, looking at you hopefully. 

"Oh yeah." you nodded, there was plenty to talk about, "I gotta check the rooms. You're staying...with me?" you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. 

The way he was acting told you that he hadn't run back to England and gotten married or something, but you never know.

"If ya let me." he mumbled. A tinge of pink hinting at the tips of his ears. He was just as, if not more, nervous about this conversation as you were. You hummed, twisting out of his arms and grabbing a towel to dry your hands. 

"You can if you sit down and eat." you smiled as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. 

He finally sat down and ate, and you stood at the end of the table, but before you could speak Johnny had something he wanted to say.

"This is the best meal I've ever had. Did you make this?!" he said, mouth still half full. You laughed, looking at his plate full of left over pot pie.

"I did. Imagine how good it was fresh out the oven." you smiled, patting him on the shoulder as he groaned, "There's whiskey in the cabinet above the fridge, have at it. But if you get drunk you're sleeping in the barn." 

You left them to relax, and headed to the spare bedrooms to make sure the beds were made. You rarely had any company, but you always kept them made out of habit. The farmhouse wasn't huge, but it housed your whole family at one point, so your grandfather had made sure everyone had their own space. John had already showed them around, but you were raised to take care of guests no matter what. 

After everything had been checked, you noticed how meticulous they all were. The towels they had used, all folded neatly in piles. Their boots and packs all lined up in similar ways. As well as when you padded back into the kitchen, they had washed and dried their dishes. 

Military. 

Sometimes you forgot that. Remembering that one fact started to ease open the doors in your mind, so you blinked hard to shut it before anything else came slipping forward. 

John wasn't here to stay. He'd be leaving again.

He walked up to you, leaning down to look in your eyes.

"Y'alright?" he asked softly, placing a large hand on your arm. You gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Just tired I think." you laughed and he nodded, "If you guys need anything just use it. You don't have to ask." you said to the rest of the group. 

You told John softly that you were headed to bed, he told you he'd be right behind you. As you ascended the stairs to your bedroom your palms started to sweat. You know John could tell you weren't 'just tired'. As well as you knew him, he knew you even better. 

So as you entered your room you weren't surprised that you heard him coming up the stairs behind you. You stood by your bedside table, fiddling with the ring John had bought you that was looped around the chain on your neck, You heard him come through the door and close it gently behind him. You didn't say anything, you didn't even turn around, putting the ball in his court. 

"You kept my truck." he said, and you let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in. 

That was true, and you should have figured he would have seen it in the garage. 

"Kept this too." you said softly, turning to him and holding the ring in your fingers. He paused, eyes landing on the thin silver band, and whatever he was going to say got caught in his throat. 

Clasping his hands over yours he just stared at you, and you finally let the floodgates of your mind open. 

The sigh you let out caught in your throat and registered more as a sob than anything. He softly shushed you, pulling you into him as your tears fell. 

"I know, love." he said, stroking your hair. You pulled your head back to look at him.

"John I-" you started but he cut you off.

"I'm sorry." he breathed, "I'm so fucking sorry." 

You knew he should be. He up and left you with barely any notice, no time to process or future plan. Just there one day, gone the next. Like he had never even existed.

For a while you had been angry. What the hell was wrong with him that he thought he could string you along for the better part of a year, and then abandon you? What kind of a man does that to a woman he said he loved? Not only did him leaving end the relationship, but it saddled you with the task of coming up with a way of explaining things to your friends and family. They obviously didn't know the truth of who John was, so you had kept a lot of the details of how serious the two of you were secret. 

Eventually that anger gave way to sadness and loneliness. So after a few weeks you did the thing that you figured you were supposed  to do after a break up. You went back to going out with friends, having fun weekends at the bar as a girl in her 20's should. You remembered that you loved line dancing with them, flirting with guys at the bar, and batting your eyelashes for free drinks. 

After a few months a tall blonde asked you to dance, to which you obliged. His name was Tom and he was perfectly nice and funny, but when he asked you on a dinner date you turned him down at first. But after thinking it over, you and Tom eventually started going out regularly enough for him to start calling you his girlfriend. Since he was a mechanic from a few towns over, he worked on your car (and John's truck) for free whenever you needed. He was handsome, and handy around the farm, and he wasn't bad in bed. 

But he wasn't John.

And it only took about two months for the sweetness to wear off, and you slowly started to see red flags you hadn't noticed before. He was always concerned about who you were out with, and whether or not your were cheating on him. One night at his place he got so mad he punched a hole right through his drywall, leaving you speechless. You had broken it off then and there, the fight that ensued a nasty one in which he told you that you were a terrible girlfriend (probably true) and that he didn't even care because he'd been fucking the bartender at the bar you had met him at for months (definitely true). 

That incident had been about 3 weeks ago by now, and it was hard not to feel completely defeated at that time. Even if Tom had been the perfect boyfriend, you were ruined. John Price had ruined anyone's chances of wooing you, fucking you, or loving you. You were hollow. And it was worse now than ever. Most of your friends had gotten jobs in other towns or states, so there wasn't a group to go out with anymore. Your parents had left you to run your grandfather's farm by yourself, and got angry when you started selling off animals you couldn't take care of. It was all just too damn much for one person.

But now John Price was standing in front of you once again, telling you with tears in his eyes that he was sorry. So maybe you should be mad, maybe you should have slapped him, and told him to take his friends somewhere else. 

But you couldn't find the anger at the moment. 

Not when his truck was in your garage. Not when you wore the ring he got you on a necklace. Not when his t-shirts were still folded in the bottom of your dresser, his boots still muddy on the front porch.

The feeling of his rough hands stroking your cheeks was enough to reopen the floodgates. Six months of bottled up emotions coming forward, and it was all you could do to just stay standing. John moved the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed, perching you delicately in his lap as he wrapped you in a hug. After a quiet moment, you finally looked up at him, a little surprised to find his cheeks a bit tear stained. 

"I'm sorry." he said again, softer than anything you'd ever heard leave his lips. 

"Why?" was all that you managed to croak out. A simple and yet devastating question that made him wince. You wanted to say more, to ask why he left you so suddenly, why he never reached out, why he was here now, there was so much that you were still in the dark about.

"They pulled me early." he said, "Extracted me before I could get to you."

"You never -" you started, grimacing up at him as your skin got hot. Just like that, the anger was back as you relived the past few months in your head. You climbed out of his lap and stood in front of where he remained seated. You interrupted him as he spoke your name.

"You never even reached out. No text, no call. Nothing. Just gone. Like I never meant anything to you!" 

"You mean everything to me. Honest. I was a coward, I know." he said, shaking his head, "When I was back I...just figured you'd hate me for leaving."

"I did." you said, not meaning for it to come out as sharp as it did. You sighed and sat down next to him as he continued.

"You were right to. I was too scared to ever say anything because I broke the rules. If anyone higher than me every found out I had compromised that mission..." he trailed off before shaking his head and looking back up, directly into your eyes, "But I should've. I know I should've. It wasn't fair to you. And all I can offer you is this apology here and now." 

His hands were clasped over yours at this point, and you could feel that he was sweating. His face was flushed and the tears were back in his eyes, a state you had never seen John Price in before. He was always so strong, so sure of every word he spoke and decision he made. Or at least he made you feel like he was sure, but now he wasn't putting up any front. He was scared of what you were going to say to him.

"Okay." you nodded gently, a tentative forgiveness. Before he could say anything, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his gently. He sighed into you, his hands coming up to press you backwards until your head hit a pillow. John adjusted himself so he was caging you in with his arms and legs, allowing you to wrap your limbs around him to anchor him there. 

He kissed you like you were going to disappear. Like he was committing karmic robbery in the way he had slipped so easily back into your bed. But once that line was crossed you weren't holding back either. Wild horses couldn't drag him away from you this time. 

"What happens now?" you asked, pausing only long enough to wait for a response. He raised his brows in surprise at your inquiry.

"Well...if you'll have me, I'm not intending on making the same mistakes again." he said firmly, "There's no change in hell I'm letting you get away this time." 

"I never went anywhere." you reminded him softly, reattaching your lips to his, giving him pause as he realized his wording.

"I know. And I will spent the rest of my life making up for that. I promise." he said into your mouth, deepening the kiss as he pressed his weight on top of you. 

Though you had no idea how you two were going to make this work, or what the future might hold for your relationship, one thing was true. John was here. Right now, on top of you once again. Just like you had dreamt about countless times after he left. As his hands roamed your figure, getting reacquainted with the shape he knew so well, you allowed yourself to just let go. So many things had been going wrong in your life, you weren't about to pass up the one gift the universe had decided to bestow upon you.

John moved his kisses to trail down the side of your neck, settling at the base of your throat as his hands moved to unbutton your denim shorts. Your hands were clawing at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to feel his skin on yours. Clothes were strewn carelessly across your floor as the two of you moved like you were against the clock. 

Finally, you were able to run your hands through the thick layer of hair that decorated his strong chest, and you were unable to hold in the moan that passed your lips. Desperately, you reached to pull him back down in to kiss you, but you frowned when he resisted.

"Sorry, love." he murmured, "Been too long since I've tasted this pussy I think I'll die if I wait any longer." 

You moaned again, this time at the sound of his words as he gripped your knees and spread your legs open in front of him. The last thing you saw before you relaxed your head back was John licking his lips before lowering himself onto your soaking pussy. The second his tongue licked a careful stripe through your folds you were done for. No one ate you like John Price. He had always devoured you like a man starved, drinking every drop you offered as if he had been wandering a desert for days only to find you as his oasis. 

You clamped a hand over your mouth as he sucked your clit into his mouth, trying to be mindful that you two weren't alone in the house this time around. He must have looked up to see you stifling your sounds because he hummed into you disapprovingly, the vibrations making your thighs jump.

"I wanna hear you," he growled, frowning when you shook your head in response. You weren't particularly keen on having to face the other three men in the house after them hearing you screaming their Captain's name all night. This objection only spurred John on, as he pressed two fingers into your hole all while continuing to lap at your clit. 

The moan you let out was muffled against your hand, and you felt your eyes flutter closed as John expertly worked you open. He still knew your body so well, keen to the exact spot that made heat begin to pool in your gut as your back arched off the mattress. He hummed into you again, satisfied with the wetness leaking out of you and onto his tongue. Your face scrunched and your breath sped up as he pumped his curled fingers against the spongy spot along your walls, milking your first orgasm out of you like a prize. 

"Oh my god John," you breathed out, removing your hand from your mouth as he sat back on his heels and sucked his fingers clean. He barely let you catch your breath before he was climbing on top of you, hooking one of your legs with his as he lined himself up with your puffy entrance. The sight of his cock made you whine, your hips bucking forward towards him in anticipation. 

There was no teasing, no crooning, nothing before John pushed himself inside you. He didn't give you a chance to adjust at all before his heavy balls slapped into contact with your ass as he sunk fully in. But when his eyes found yours, you both paused, savoring the feeling. 

"I've missed you." you breathed out, making him groan softly.

"I've missed you." he repeated, before giving you a searing kiss as he started to rock his hips into you. The feeling of his thick cock dragging out of you before filling you up over and over was maddening. No man was ever going to fill you the way John did, no one would ever made your skin burn the way he did. Your nails dug into the muscle on his back while he fucked down into you, his chest hair scratching against the swell of your breasts. He was murmuring a mixture of apologies and praise against your neck, and suddenly it was all too much. You realized that if you couldn't have John, you'd never find anyone that you would love the same way.

It was him or nothing.

Clinging onto him desperately, you felt more hot tears spill out from your eyes. John resgistered the shaky breath you sucked in and pulled his head back to look at your face. His brows knitted together in concern upon seeing your sad expression, and you spoke before he could ask what was wrong.

"Please don't leave me again." you whispered, too overwhelmed to be embarrassed about anything potentially pathetic about your whimpering.

"Never." John said firmly, pressing his lips to yours as he pressed himself onto you even more, his hands coming up to cradle your head, "I'm never leaving, baby."

You only responded with a light sob, one of your hands tangling itself in the short brown hair at the base of his neck. 

"I don't care what it takes," he grunted, snapping his hips into yours to emphasize his point, "I'll steal you back to England and marry you there if that's what it takes." 

Suddenly you were hyper aware of the ring hanging from your necklace, pressed tightly between your bodies. The sound of the word 'marry' leaving his lips made you clench, and he smiled at the feeling.

"I'm serious." he stated, pulling back and halting his movements to look at you.

"What?" you asked breathlessly.

"If you're giving me a second chance, then you're mine. I'm not fucking this up again. I'll figure it all out, okay? I'll make you my wife and give you an army of children. Whatever you want, it's yours." 

"John I-"

"I will never hurt you like that. Ever." he said firmly. You couldn't do anything but pull him down to kiss you. His spoken and unspoken promises had brought you right on the precipice of your orgasm, so when his hips started moving again it didn't take long for you to bubble over. His cock felt like a piston, driving into you with a force you were sure was rearranging the structure of your abdomen. Every time he paused you could feel his bulbous tip knocking into that spot that made your vision go fuzzy and caused more wetness to leak out around him. That wetness gathering at your entrance and coating his balls, causing the most obscene wet sounds as they slapped into your ass over and over again.

The noise you let out as you came was a strangled cry of his name, choking on the sheer pleasure radiating throughout your body as John fucked you through your high. His breath got ragged as his hips stuttered into you as you both felt him getting close to his own release. You reached down to grasp his hips as he started to cum, closing your legs around him to keep him in place so you could savor the feeling of him filling you after months of feeling empty.

It had been quick, hurried, and messy. 

And you loved every second of it. You couldn't feel happier as you felt his weight settle on top of you. As you both caught your breath, your hand traced aimless circles on his back while you let him soften inside you. He was still nipping lightly at your neck, and you let out a  soft moan as you felt your bladder throb in protest.  You shifted your weight to push him off you, unable to move his big frame even an inch.

"John," you groaned, nudging him.

"Mmm." he grumbled, pushing his face further into your neck.

"Come on, John, I have to pee." you giggled.

"Do it here." 

"Ugh," you laughed, pushing him harder, "You're disgusting." 

He finally relented, pushing up off the mattress and dragging his cock out of you finally, holding your legs open just long enough to enjoy watching a pearl of him cum slide out of your hole and down your ass crack.

"What a fucking idiot I am." he said quietly, shaking his head. You smiled gently, opting to hum in agreement rather than pile on. According to him, you'd have the rest of your life to tease him about something he already saw as the biggest mistake of his life. You planted a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead before quickly padding to your ensuite to relieve yourself and clean up. 

When you came back out of the bathroom, John had pulled the sheets on the bed back and was waiting for you to come climb in with him. You smiled to yourself at the sight of him before grabbing a sleep shirt to slip on. 

Slipping into your bed next to him it felt like he had never left. You allowed yourself to lean into the delusion that nothing had even happened, that everything was the same as it was before. Snuggling into John's chest and breathing in his scent made it easy to forget that you didn't have everything figured out, and that tomorrow would bring a whole new batch of challenges. 

But none of that seemed to matter when you felt John press a kiss to the crown of your head and whisper one last promise before you fell asleep.