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souliebird · 8 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 2]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1

words: 6.3k

tag list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen

"Mommy, look!"

Minnie calls out from the living room and you look up from finishing up an invoice. She is plopped on the ground, surrounded by a sea of crayons, proudly holding up her latest masterpiece: a series of different colored overlapping circles. You, as usual, have no idea what you are supposed to be looking at, but that doesn't stop the support you give your daughter.

"That's so good, Mouse. You picked such pretty colors." She beams at you and you return the smile, your heart feeling so full. You love her so much and you want only the best for her and you hope - pray - bringing her father into her life is the right choice.

Your meeting with Matt went so much better than you ever thought it could go. He wants to be in Minnie's life and that makes you nervously excited. You have absolutely no inkling of how things are going to change moving forward, and a huge part of you is terrified but another part can't wait for Minnie and Matt to get to know each other. You keep going over your admittedly short conversation trying to remember all the little tics you saw that reminded you of Minnie. You want to know what else she inherited from him.

You tell yourself those thoughts are for later and force them away so you can get back to work. It is getting close to bedtime and you have a few things to tidy up before you can clock out.

Luckily, Minnie has gone back to her drawing, scribbling away while Scooby Doo plays silently on the television and you are able to work in peace. Ten minutes later, you close out your VPN and leisurely stretch out in your chair, watching your little angel do her thing.

You are worried about her reactions to the change. Unfortunately, one of the things she got from you is your anxiety - your little one's nickname is Mouse for a reason. She is a quiet timid little thing who loves to watch and observe - like a little church mouse. You joke you need to put a bell on her because she can walk right by you without making a single noise. Her quiet nature doesn't mesh well with strangers.

You've been taking her to daycare more, hoping socializing will help, and it has, but that is worth other kids. You don't know how she'll react to a new adult in her life who she would have a more casual relationship with. You have no family and the few friends you have have known her since she was a baby.

Minnie knows what a dad is but she's never asked where hers is and you certainly haven’t brought it up to her.

But now you have to.

You need to figure out what the best approach would be. You know it has to be slow and steady, but you don't know if you should introduce Matt to her as her father or not. The biggest change she's been through is going to daycare and that took ages. She hated it.

She hates being around strangers for extended periods.

Out and about? She is okay. She's shy and likes to hide behind your leg instead of talking to people, but she doesn't complain.

But when she has to sit and interact with someone new? She can get fussy. It's not just her being shy, she gets physically uncomfortable.

She has no problems if it's just the two of you or someone she knows, but strangers? It can turn into a tantrum, depending on her mood.

You've discovered a few methods to make her more comfortable. You have about fifteen pairs of child sized noise canceling headphones, your bag is full of little things to distract her, and she has her Pig.

You think introducing her to Matt where she can sit and color and block him out if she wants is the best course of action and to achieve that, you don't think you can tell her the truth right away. She might feel some pressure to Behave because Dad is an authority figure. Not to mention what she would feel if she started asking questions; like why he hasn’t been around.

She's curious but she's also three and unpredictable.

She could immediately go into tantrum mode.

She could not care at all and want to color instead.

You hope Matt understands all of this and doesn't want to jump right into being a Father.

Whatever that entails.

A change in colors and tones on the television catches your attention and you push yourself away from your desk.

"Okay, sweetie, Scooby is over, time to get ready for bed."

Minnie finishes her scribble then drops the crayon on the ground. You wait as she climbs up into her feet and starts to pick up her mess - her crayons go into a pail one at a time. You don't know what goes on in her mind, but as long as she's doing what she is supposed to be, you don't rush her.

There's no lollygagging with your sweet girl, anyways. Once the crayons are in their bucket, she puts that under the coffee table, then picks up her drawing pad and brings it to you. You scoop her up and start towards the bedroom, as she admires her drawings.

"What do you want to read tonight?" You ask.

"Spot!" is the instant reply and you should have guessed that. You've been reading the same book for over a week now, but you don't mind. You'd rather read the same thing over and over than hunt for something she does want to read for an hour.

Getting ready for bed is something that usually goes smoothly and you are lucky tonight is no different. Minnie is already in her pajamas, so it's just turning down the sheets and getting her all tucked in before you start to read. You keep an eye on the time as you do - you have a half hour before Matt said he would call.

If he does call.

He said he would and you are trying to be hopeful that he will. You've been disappointed so many times in the past - not just by lovers but everyone. People promise to call, to text, to follow up and they never do. They say you can do something together then cancel at the last minute. You are used to that disappointment, but you don't want Minnie to experience that. You want her to feel loved and wanted.

You know it's not fair to Matt, but to you the call is a sort of test he doesn't know he is taking.

Will he call? Will he call on time?

The more you think about the call, the more anxious you get. There's too many thoughts starting to gather.

The meeting could have been a fluke and now that he's thought it over, he doesn't want to be a dad.

Or he wants to be a dad but not with You. What if you are the problem?

"Mommy," Minnie shakes you out of your thoughts, looking up at you with big brown eyes. "Next page!"

You nod and force your focus back to the book, turning the next page and letting your daughter open and close all the flaps that hide different elements to the story while you read. It's hard to get lost in the simple words and story, but Minnie is used to her routine and by the time you reach the last page, she's leaning heavier into your side.

You place the book on her nightstand, trading it for her sleep headband. She tilts her head forward and you help get the band on and snuggly over her ears.

"How's that feel, Mouse?"

"Quiet," Minnie replies, like she does every night, sliding down under her blankets. Her little hands tug at the band so the sleep mask part is over her eyes. You smile, forever grateful your little one likes to sleep. You wait while she settles, then kiss both of her cheeks.

"Sweet dreams, my little angel."

"Sweet dreams, Mommy," she replies, voice full of sleep. You triple check she's tucked in nice and snug and that Pig is within reach, then turn off the light. You leave the door open a crack, just in case, then return to the living room.

There's a small mess leftover from dinner and you start cleaning that up. Usually, after you put Minnie down for bed, you'd enjoy a few hours of television or catching up on whatever you needed to, but after finishing the dishes, you don't know what to do.

There's only a handful of minutes until the promised call time and all you can do is just stand in the kitchen. You debate going to get a notebook so you can keep notes, but you don't want to have the whole conversation about how you want to move forward over the phone. Maybe you jot down ideas of what you two want to cover in person? Matt might have questions you haven't even thought of yet.

You should find a pen and paper. It's better to be prepared than not. You tell yourself that but you still don't move. You just stare at your phone.

As the seconds creep by your throat starts to get tight.

What are you going to do if he doesn't call?

Would it be awkward to call him instead? Or is that overbearing? You don't want to come off as overbearing - that might make Matt view you in a negative light and that would definitely have consequences in his relationship with Minnie. You desperately want that relationship to be good and not be influenced by any issues the two of you might have. You would hate yourself if the reason Matt didn't want to be around Minnie was you.

The thought makes your stomach twist.

You're definitely not going to call him tonight if he doesn't call you. You can send a text in the morning - something with no pressure.

But he said he preferred calls instead of text.

Would a call be accusatory? You feel like a morning call would be accusatory.

You can push it to the afternoon, that would give him time to call in the morning, as well.

You're ripped from your paranoid thoughts as your phone screen lights up with Matt's name. Shock overtakes your system and it takes a moment before you scramble to answer.

You state your name as your greeting, totally trying to pretend you weren't just spiraling.

"Hey, it's Matt.. Matt Murdock."

His words are soft spoken, on the edge of shy, and it throws you. You understand why his nerves would be rattled but you didn't think he'd advertise that. Your brain screams at you to comfort him and you focus on that instead of your own panic.

"Hey…um, how are you doing?"

Matt chuckles into your ear, low and throaty, making the knot your stomach has become loosen a bit, "Adjusting." He pauses a beat, then adds, "I can't stop thinking about you and Winifred…Minnie."

Your cheeks burn.

You can't tell him you haven't stopped thinking about him either - that feels like a very weird thing to admit, even if it is the truth.

You don't know what to say, so your mouth decides for you, blurting out, "I didn't think you'd call…"

"You didn't…?" The undercurrent of hurt in his voice makes you feel like you've kicked a puppy. You quickly backtrack.

"I have a tendency to overthink and get in my head," you say, hoping you aren't coming off like an idiot. "I worked myself up."

You turn your back to the kitchen counter, then slide down the cabinets until you are sitting on the ground. You bring your knees up, using them to prop up your elbows.

"I'm glad you did call," you admit, asking your mind to please stop, "I'm sorry, this is awkward, can we start over?"

"Of course," Matt's voice is soft in your ear, but you can hear him smiling, "Should I hang up and call back?"

"No, no, not that far back," you practically mumble, biting your lip. "How about…was your meeting okay? Can I ask that or is it attorney - client privilege?"

Matt hums, sounding like he's thinking over the answer, before answering, "No, that's not covered. It was pretty standard for that client - whether that means it went okay is up for interpretation. No one is in jail, so I would consider it a win."

You aren't sure what that means, but you want to be supportive. "That sounds like a win."

"What about you, how was your evening?"

The question makes you laugh a little, only because you think you live a very boring life, "Very quiet and calm. No one ended up in jail on this end either."

"So not a family of trouble makers?" Matt asks, a slight tease in his voice.

You smile into your knees, replying with a shy, "No, I'm afraid we're rather boring. I hope that is okay."

"I think it's a win."

Oh, you forgot how charming he was.

He carries on, voice dropping back to a softer tone, "What does a quiet and calm night mean for the two of you?"

You consider the question with a little smile before answering, "We usually start with a nice walk to the park. Minnie likes to play in the afternoon, there's less kids to hog the see-saw."

"She likes the see-saw?"

"She loves the see-saw," you say, smiling at the memory of your daughter on the playground. "She likes to…bounce? The see-saw lets her go high. She's too small for bounce houses, so she gets her fix where she can." Matt huffs a laugh into your ear and you continue on, "After the park, it's standard toddler afternoon stuff. Dinner and a bath. Playtime and television before bed. I work from home, so I usually get a few hours in before Minnie gets put down for bed. Then, um, more work for me. Or paying bills. Online shopping. Adult things I can do from the couch."

"You work from home?" Matt asks and you can't remember if you had previously mentioned that. Your whole previous conversation is now suddenly a total question mark.

"Yeah, um, I work in billing. The company is in international shipping, so time zones aren't really an issue. As long as I log forty hours a week, I can break it up as I want. It makes being a working mom a lot easier." You nibble your lip, unsure about what to really say, so you say the obvious, "You have your own law firm?"

"I do. You met my partners earlier, Foggy and Karen," he sounds proud, just a little bit, and that warms your heart.

"I read about a few of your cases last night," you admit, "The papers said you help a lot of people."

Matt doesn't respond right away, but when he does, you find yourself smiling more. "We try to. People here are getting by paycheck to paycheck, they can't afford a lawyer when their landlords try to push them out so they can get someone in to pay higher rent. They need someone to fight for them, and this is our community - Foggy and I grew up here. This is our city." He pauses and you can picture him scrunching up his brow, "You said you saw the interview last night. You had time to read over our cases?"

Embarrassment courses through you.

"Only what was in the news and I didn't read in depth. I just…" You shrug, even though you are talking over the phone, "I wanted to make sure it was in Minnie's best interest to reach out." You bite your lip again then, wanting to be honest with Matt, you add, "I mean, we only spent one night together and we didn't really discuss…much. I knew you were a lawyer, but you could have been like…a lawyer for some awful celebrity or something. If you were out there and the papers were saying you were vile I wouldn't have just…shown up at your doorstep. Metaphorically. I only have your work address."

"That makes sense," Matt replies and you have the feeling he really does get it, "you want to keep her safe, to keep both of you safe. I'd do the same in your position. Actually…I guess I do need to do the same, because we don't really know anything about each other." He pauses, then teases, "Unless there's news articles about you I need to catch up on?"

You huff at the thought, "No, nothing that I am aware of."

"Then we will have to do it the old fashion way."

"Lunch." The words tumble out of your mouth and you resist the urge to bang your head against the cabinets. "We, uh, mentioned lunch. We could use that as a starting point? Give each other our People Resumes."

Matt laughs a little and it's warm, not mocking. You still bury your face into your knees.

"People Resumes - I like that. I have some pretty good references, if you need."

"I only have the one," you mumble, keeping your face hidden despite being alone. He laughs again.

"I think it's a pretty good one, though."

That makes you smile, "The best one around."

There's a beat where neither of you talk and you wonder what else to add.

"Will she be coming to lunch?" He asks, voice switching from confident and charming to slightly timid. Once again you are reminded of a kicked puppy and it makes your heart ache.

"I would like that," you start slowly and Matt seems to sense you have more to say, as he waits for you to continue. "I wanted to discuss it with you, first."

"Of course," his reply is so eager. "Anything."

"I was thinking…I think it would be best if Minnie gets to know you first before we tell her who you are. It's been the two of us for so long, I don't know how she'll react to a big change. I can introduce the idea to her over time, start talking to her about family and stuff while you two bond?" As you talk, the words start coming out a little faster as your nerves start to come back. "I think telling her up front might make her uncomfortable because like, you'll have a Title and Authority and that would override other things. I don't want to push her into anything she's not ready for yet."

You press your face into your knees and wait for Matt's reaction. You can hear him breathing and the slight clinking of what sounds like ice in a glass and you hope he understands your concerns.

He says your name so very softly and a shiver goes through you. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and wait for the ax to fall.

"I think that would be a really good way to do things," Matt practically breathes into the receiver.

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly and relief just washes over you. "I…don't want to scare her." He hesitates, then starts in a stronger voice, "did your articles mention that I grew up in an orphanage?" They did and you say as much. "I was older than a lot of the kids and the little ones were scared of that. Scared of being adopted by strangers. I remember being scared of that. I got placed in a few foster homes and I hated being around people I didn't know." He takes a breath and it's a little shaky, "I want her to want me as her father."

Your heart skips in your chest and you bury your face into your knees more. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Matt. You have a good heart, that's what matters. You just have to get to know each other, spend time together."

Matt hums softly into your ear, "Not just her, you as well."

"Me?" You ask, confused.

"You," he repeats. "I want to know the mother of my child. Of course I want to get to know you. You're the most important person in her life."

You just hadn't thought of that at all - your concern has been over Minnie. It completely makes sense that he would want to get to know you. He isn't just now in Minnie's life, but in your life.

You chew on your lips in thought, "Is…um.. Is there anything you'd like to know?"

"How about," he says, after a moment of thought, "the equivalent of what you read about me? That way we are on an even footing."

That wasn't the answer you expected but it makes a bit of sense in your head. You think about what you learned in the papers about Matt Murdock.

You start off by saying where you were born then move onto simple facts, "We moved to Long Island when I was about five and I lived there until I was eighteen. I moved into the city for school - Empire State University. I didn't know what I wanted to do so I got a degree in business. I figured I'd have a good foundation with that, you know? I got a pretty decent job in accounting - I'm still there actually. I uh…am a billing administrator…"

"Your parents?" Matt asks tentatively, like he already knows the answer.

"Gone." You say quietly, but firmly. Your parents aren't something you want to talk about and you hope he understands that. "It is just Minnie and I. And now you..."

"And now me…"

You can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you start to smile.

"I have no idea how to be a father," he admits after a beat.

"It's okay, I didn't know how to be a mother. I'm still learning - I've read stuff and some things don't apply to Minnie. Or the opposite, she does something and I can't find anything that applies? And it's not like I'm just gonna drop her on you and disappear. It's…I want you to be comfortable as well? That's why I think just meeting each other will be a good start. We can go from there? Do little hang outs and stuff and build up, if that's what you want," you know you're starting to ramble but you keep going. "I think somewhere she is comfortable would be good? There's a diner in Hell's Kitchen she really likes - we could meet there for lunch? If she gets too overwhelmed, I can give her something to distract her, but you can still interact with her? She's a bit shy around new people and pressuring her to really…um.. engage might be a lot? A big thing for her is parallel play, so I'm hoping maybe just hanging out around you if she's nervous might help until she's more comfortable?"

You close your eyes tightly, a little embarrassed at your dumping of ideas, but Matt takes it all in stride, giving a curious, "What is parallel play?"

You lick your lips before answering, "Being in the same space, but doing your own thing? Like two kids coloring together but not talking."

"Ah, I got it. I didn't know there was an actual name for that." There's another pause and you can hear ice clinking against glass again. You wonder if you should get up off your kitchen floor and get yourself a drink, but you decide against it. The only thing you should be drinking is water. "What is the diner?"

You tell him the name of the diner and to your surprise, he chuckles, "I know the place. It's on the same block as Foggy's parents' butcher shop. She has good taste."

"When she gets fussy and doesn't want to eat anything, it's something I know she'll always eat. She'll have her own booth by the time she's five."

Matt laughs again and you can feel all the anxiety you had before the call bleeding away. He's been open to everything you've had to say so far and there's been no hint of negative feelings.

Maybe things will be okay.

"She can share Foggy's booth," Matt says, no idea your mind keeps trying to freak out over nothing. "We went there for lunch almost every day when we were working out of the shop."

"You worked out of a butcher's shop?" You ask, thinking you must be misinterpreting something.

"We did," he says, sounding a little sheepish, "I took a hiatus from…everything really and Foggy went to work for another firm. While we were reestablishing, his parents graciously allowed us to work out of their shop."

Part of you wants to ask about his hiatus, but the way he says it gives you a feeling you should leave it alone, so you do. You focus on another aspect instead. "So we've been going to the same diner, we just kept missing each other."

It is sobering to say - the father of your child was always right there, but fate let you skirt around each other for years. It hurts to think about, your mind whispering at you if you had just tried harder to look for him, you would have found Matt. If you had just seen him earlier, how different would things be? What if you had been there at the same time, but you just hadn't been paying attention to your surroundings? It isn't like he knew to be on the lookout for a fling from years ago - how would he have even noticed you?

You wonder if he is thinking the same thing - that you probably missed each other because you weren't paying attention.

"Don't do that," your attention is yanked away from your guilt by Matt's strong voice, "I can hear you thinking, blaming yourself."

"Is it that obvious?" You ask quietly, cringing just a little bit. Are you really such a mess he can tell over the phone?

"You said you overthink and work yourself up. You got quiet, so I assumed and I guess I was right. There's no way you could have known and why would you have been looking there?" He sounds so sure you feel guilty over feeling guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for."

You bite your lip then force your head up and away from your knees. You should get up and get a drink - change how your body is. Maybe it will help in keeping your mood from dipping back down. You take a breath and start to get up.

"Thank you…um.. What day would you want to meet?" You ask, trying to push past the awkwardness and into another direction. You hear him take a drink and decide you do want some water. You start to look around your living space, trying to locate your water bottle.

You spy it across the room in all its rainbow sticker glory and make your way across the room as Matt starts to speak, "I wish I could say tomorrow, but we have to meet with the D.A. tomorrow and I can't miss it. I hate that I can't miss it. But Saturday? Can we meet Saturday?"

You'd have a day to prepare. You would definitely need a day to prepare. "Saturday is perfect. Is 11:30 okay? That's when we try to have lunch."

"That is perfect," Matt replies, mirroring your own. "Saturday at 11:30."

A giddy little shock goes through you - it's not just an idea anymore. Minnie will be meeting her father and he wants to be in her life. He's eager to be in her life.

You never thought that would be the case.

"Saturday at 11:30," you repeat, just to confirm and because you can. It feels good to say.

"I feel like I should dress to impress," he says with a chuckle and you wonder if he is feeling giddy as well.

"I don't think she will care, unless you have a shirt with a cartoon character she likes on it."

There's a few seconds of silence, then Matt's soft curious voice is back, "What characters does she like?"

The question makes you laugh a little because your little girl changes her preferences at the flip of a hat, like any other kid.

"Right now? Scooby Doo and Oscar the Grouch."

"I don't think I have anything with those characters," he says with an amused huff, "but I'll see what I have."

You bite your lip, then let yourself be a bit teasing, "Do you have a lot of graphic tees?"

There's a long moment of quiet before Matt laughs. It's a deep rumble and you find yourself grinning as you grab your water bottle.

"I actually don't know. I don't wear a lot of t-shirts. I think a few have designs on them - at least a few Columbia ones. I wouldn't put it past Foggy to give me something with a cartoon on it, though," he muses.

"I'm sure she will not judge you on your fashion choices," you point out, "She's three and doesn't understand what fashion is. If she did, I would be in trouble."

"Do you have a lot of graphic tees?" Matt asks, throwing the question back at you. It is your turn to laugh.

"I'm the proud owner of many graphic tees. It's practically the only thing in my wardrobe, top wise. The benefits of working from home."

"Unfortunately, court has a dress code. Or so I'm told. I don't think I've ever read it."

"Jury duty has a dress code," you point out, "It was mostly show up clean and not in athletic wear. I didn't get a good look at the lawyers, but I'm pretty sure I remember suits."

"Would you trust a lawyer in a graphic tee?" He asks and you have to pause to think it over.

"Going into their office? I don't think so, unless it was like casual Fridays. But if I met a lawyer in the street on their off day and they had on a graphic tee? I suppose so. Depending on what they are telling me."

"Do you often get your legal advice from random lawyers on the street?" You can practically hear his eyebrows raising up and your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling.

"Of course not. I get it from Google. I can't afford a lawyer."

That earns you another bark of laughter. "I don't think that will be an issue any longer."

That sets off a little anxiety in your stomach. You don't want to think about needing a lawyer, whether it be Matt as your lawyer or a lawyer against Matt.

He doesn't seem to notice your dip in mood, not that it is particularly obvious, and moves to the next topic.

"Speaking of, I haven't gotten the chance to look at the packet you gave me. It's there anything I need to get done before Saturday?"

You turn your mind away from the thoughts of lawyers and legal battles to something much more manageable: medical history.

"No, no, there's nothing that urgent. It's mostly just medical information - she's got some sensitivities and I want to make sure I'm prepared for anything in the future. The rest is just information for you."

Matt doesn't respond right away and you chance taking a swig of your water.

"Sensitivities…?" There is a thick undercurrent of concern in his voice and you feel a little guilty for making him worry.

"Fabrics and dyes and scents, that kind of thing? I haven't gotten her tested, but certain things just make her itch. Some foods, too. I try to stick to organic stuff and it seems to help a little. It isn't anything major, just a few changes when she lets me know there's something bothering her." You set your water bottle down as you talk, starting to walk around your small living room. "I read it's becoming more common in kids, because all the chemicals and stuff used in everything now. Some of the other moms at daycare have given me tips - laundry soap was the best one."

You are reminded you actually need to do some laundry and as you walk, you grab the various throw blankets littering your apartment.

"I see," Matt says slowly, still sounding concerned. "I actually prefer organic myself, I have some sensitivities as well."

"Any allergies?" You ask. You didn't have any yourself so it has always left you guessing what your little girl might react to.

"No, nothing that I know of. I'm not completely sure about family history, but it is something I can look into."

"I would appreciate it. I'd rather be overly cautious than not have anything," you say casually like you aren't completely obsessive about keeping your daughter healthy.

As you make your way to the bathroom to grab dirty towels, phone between your shoulder and ear, he hums into your ear. "I think that is a good way to do things. I'll try to get the information back to you as soon as possible."

You don't want to chide him, but you can't help but frown a little, "Matt, you don't need to rush. I…was worried you wouldn't be…interested. That is why I put the packet together. I thought you'd want to deal with that instead of going to a doctor's office?"

"I'll go with you to the doctor's," he says instantly, "And I'll fill out the paperwork. It's something I want to do."

You can't argue with that because you would be the same way. Still, you push, "I don't need it by Saturday. Please take your time?"

"Ok," he concedes but it feels like he is only doing so to appease you. But you will take it.

You dump your laundry into the basket stored in the hallway with a little grunt. Almost immediately Matt is saying your name and asking if you are okay.

"Yup, yup, just trying to get some cleaning done while I can. Sorry for doing that in your ear."

"Do you need to go?"

Your heart pangs with guilt at the question. You can feel the disappointment through the phone and you're quickly reassuring him, "No, I'm just picking up a few things, tidying up, you know. I will try to not -"

You are cut off as the door to the bedroom pushes open and Minnie shuffles out. Her headband is pulled down around her neck and she's rubbing at her eyes with one hand, the other limply holding Pig. You only just put her down so you are instantly concerned.

"Mouse? Is everything okay?"

Matt says your name again, "what's going on?"

You ignore him in favor of going to your daughter. She holds up her arms and you scoop her up, cradling her to your chest.

"There's a monster outside," Minnie mumbles, burying her face in your neck.

"There's a monster outside?" You confirm with her, still speaking into your phone.

"A monster?" Matt repeats, clearly confused, as your little one nods against you.

"Okay, let's go check," you tell her, before finally answering the questions coming through the speaker, "Something woke Minnie up. I'm sorry, I do think I need to go now."

"Is everything okay?" Matt sounds worried and something stirs in your chest at his concern.

"It will be, we just need to go tell a monster to go home," you say, gently bouncing Minnie in your arms to soothe her, "Isn't that right, baby? We gotta tell him to go home."

She nods against you again, parroting in a sleepy little voice, "Go home."

You hear some rustling on the other end of the phone, the clicking of a door opening and the rush of wind. Matt must have stepped outside.

"Are you sure?"

His distress is sweet, in a way. You remember being terrified of every little upset when Minnie was a baby, but now you have gotten your groove.

"Yeah, we will be okay. It's just gonna take a bit to get her back to sleep," you say, carrying her into the bedroom. "I'll…um..we'll see you on Saturday? At 11:30?"

"Saturday at 11:30," Matt confirms. "I…" he trails off, then clears his throat. "Have a good rest of your night."

"Good night, Matt."

Minnie mimics you again, mumbling, "Good night, Matt" just as you hang up. You wonder if he heard it, or if it was cut off.

You hope he did.

You drop your phone off on the bedside table and bring Minnie over to the window. You are a few stories up and your bedroom overlooks an alleyway, as most do in the city. You hold your toddler with one arm and carefully unlock the window to open it about halfway. On the windowsill, there is a yellow mini spray bottle, covered in stickers like everything you own - you pick it up and offer it to Minnie.

She takes it, turning her little body to face the window. She aims it at the window screen and squeezes the trigger, sending out a little stream of Monster Repellent.

"Go home, Monster," you say together. She gives another squirt before looking up at you.

"Is it gone?"

"Give him a few minutes and he'll be gone," you promise, taking the spray bottle and putting it back in its spot, "He's gotta pack up his Monster Suitcase before he goes home, but he won't bother you."

She flops her head back down on your shoulder as you turn to bring her back to bed.

"Do you want me to stay until you're asleep?" She makes an affirmative little noise

You start the process of tucking her back into bed with Pig, kissing her forehead before helping to pull up her noise canceling headband.

"Good night, Mouse."

"Good night. I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too, baby. Sweet dreams."

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil

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ririglow · 1 year

Text

Madly | Joe Burrow

pairings: loner! joe burrow x popular reader

word count: 11.7k

genre: college au!

warnings: long hair Joe (don't know if that's considered a warning or not but oh well!) reader is a bit of an airhead, cursing, drinking, awkward Joe (he gets no hoes in this), shy Joe (bc why not), the reader is toxic and unlikable in some instances, heavy make-out session, slight dry humping, there's no actual smut in this

synopsis: the popular loner gets dared to play the seven minutes in heaven at a party in a haunted house and you his crush volunteer as a tribute to participate.

a/n: shitty ass description but you get the picture! also yes that is joe with long hair someone on Twitter made that edit and since then my brain has been racking with ideas of long hair Joe. It"s giving "because tonight will be the night that I will fall for yew!!"

It was another Saturday night and you were looking forward to the party you were attending. You've always enjoyed parties, especially when they're hosted by someone you know. The idea of letting loose and having a good time is something you can't resist. You believe that having fun and being a little carefree is an essential part of life, especially when you're in college. You're not afraid to admit it, and you don't care what people think about your party-girl lifestyle.

However, tonight was different. You were feeling uneasy about the party's location, and it was making you second-guess your decision to go.

"Who had the bright idea to throw a Halloween party in a real haunted house?" Cato, your friend, expressed her apprehension as she adjusted her bunny ears. You can't blame her; this was a disaster waiting to happen. Dumb college students decide to rave in a house where there have been numerous reports of "dark spirits" from past murders. As much as you'd prefer not to be the prophet of doom, the situation sounds like something out of a cliche horror film.

It didn't help that the location is in vast flat farmland stretching hundreds of miles with the only sign of life you'd encountered on your journey being countryside animals. What in the world was Sam thinking? What were you thinking?

"That'll be your "bright" boy toy, Sam Hubbard." You respond with a compressed smile as you open the car door and step out. The cold October air hits you harshly, your pink leotard and sparkles fishnet tights were completely useless.

Your gaze immediately latches on the creepy and dilapidated house that wasn't too far off in the distance. The old Victorian-style home that has witnessed the best of days is now weathered and shadowy. The only thing stopping it from looking utterly ghastly was the seasonal decorations on the outside and the loud music blasting inside. Even though the house is not exactly in its prime you couldn't help but admire the elaborate woodwork and design.

"What?!" You felt a hefty smack land on your arm. "I had no idea this was Sam's party! Oh my God!"

"I know right?! Isn't it great?!" You chirped with a big smile. "You guys can finally spend some time with each other. "

Cato rolls her eyes walking alongside you as you make your way toward the house saying, "No thanks I'd like to maintain my dignity."

For a long time, she has struggled with her crush on Sam. Her philosophy is that if she avoids him as much as possible, those feelings will fade. Furthermore, her integrity will not be compromised simply because she has a huge crush on one of the school's wildest and most cocky athletes.

"Believe it or not, he's got a crush on you just as much as you do on him." You mentioned.

Cato rolls her eyes and continues to walk, saying, "That's not a crush; that's pure lust. Which isn't much of a shocker given how many girls he's fucked with around campus."

Your head shook in denial. "Sam might have a negative IQ and spend most of his life doing stupid crap like this," you gesture toward the house. "But take it from someone who hangs around him a lot; he's not like that."

"As the saying goes, seeing is believing, and from what I have gathered, he likes to stick his dick into anything that has a hole in it.".

"Oh really? or are you listening to those friends of yours again whose only action is tongue-kissing a tree?"

You and Cato are from different social circles. You prefer to party instead of attending study programs on the weekend, while Cato is a high-achieving scholar who is driven by the desire to learn. She always puts her education first and is the type of student who would prepare for a pop quiz as if it were an SAT. Needless to say, your ambitions and success are on opposite ends of the spectrum.

"Hey! not too much on Peggy," She scowls defensively. " The bottom line is I know he's only looking for someone to keep his bed warm."

You didn't bother responding because you knew there was no point in persuading her that her perception of him was wrong. Instead, you proceed to the front door of the house. As you both approach, you can smell the musty odor of the place, which is likely to be older than your grandparents.

Since the music was so loud, you grabbed the rusty door handle and pulled it open without knocking. Upon entering the inside wasn't what anyone would expect based on the outside image. The decoration and color scheme looked impressive. Fake cobwebs and caution tape were draped around the foyer, and a number of orange and black balloons were scattered on the floor. There were fake spiders on the walls, but you weren't sure if they were real or not. It wouldn't be surprising if they pertain to the house, you're in. Your eyes roamed over everyone in either the most generic costume to the most ridiculous, a cluster of people stood in corners making out dancing, drinking, or just talking. The energy felt very laidback, you were surprised many people even showed up given the rumors of the house.

A medium-sized table next to the entrance with an "entry fee" sign caught your eye. Rather than a bowl of cash, it had shot glasses holding liquid-filled syringes.

"This is clever," You said in awe as you grabbed two glasses handing one over to Cato.

"Oh no, one of us has to be the sober one here tonight." She said while shaking her head.

"C'mon Cat, it's only one shot and it comes with a chaser," You told her before shooting the vodka-filled syringe directly into your mouth and then chasing it down with a glass of soda.

She sighs knowing you would scowl at her for being such a killjoy. "This will be my first and only drink for tonight"

"Fine by me," You shrug taking another shot." Just as long you're not going to be uptight as a nun in a bar, all night we should be good."

"Remind me why we're friends again?" She says reluctantly, before quickly consuming the vodka.

"We help each other out." You patted her shoulder. "Without me, you would be doing a four-thousand-piece globe puzzle right now bored out of your mind, and I would be here surrounded by idiots alone."

"You'll have Sam," She points out.

"He's one of the idiots I was referring to."

"Takes one to know one." Cato teased, and in return, you playfully shoved her shoulder.

You walk further into the house. Off the main hallway, to the right, is the front parlor. The white sheet-covered furniture in this room is surrounded by a few people who sit idly. You greeted familiar faces passing by, not bothering to engage in full conversation. While Cato is after you, unable to leave your side, which is understandable, you doubt any of her other friends were attending this party. Not like any of them would be able to make it past the front door.

You beckon Cato to follow as you weave through the crowd. You passed a couple dressed up as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo making out on the couch with the guy's hand buried underneath the girl's skirt, in front of everyone with zero shame.

Damn. You thought as they were quite literally about to rip each other's clothes off.

"I need to get laid," You said sighing at the sight feeling a bit jealous you have no one to do that with.

"They were so rough with each other," Cato said with a grimace.

"What's wrong with that?" You said without a care in the world. Much like your personalities, your interpretations of sex are wildly different. You remember when she'd gossiped about the times she hooked up with a guy from her debate club, vanilla wouldn't be the word to describe the sex she experienced. It was dull as dishwater, you fell asleep on the phone as she ranted about how sweet he stayed in missionary for the whole hour.

Still to this day, you don't know how she can proudly profess that to someone, even to you. However, as her best friend, you still were pleased that her sex life was no longer non-existent even congratulated her on her achievement of screwing one of the student councils.

You made it to the crowded kitchen and immediately the strong scent of alcohol filled your nostrils, almost clouding your brain. To no surprise, multiple beer kegs are sitting on the counter, floor, and table. One of which is currently being guzzled by the host of the party, while doing a keg stand. Two people assist in holding both of his legs upright as the crowd gathers around shouting "Chug! Chug! Chug!"

"Oh my god, is that Sam?!" Cato exclaims beside you with widen eyes as she takes in her crush doing what he does best, stupid shit.

"Yup." You said simply, popping the "p". Crossing your arms you observe the scene in front of you, wondering how many more seconds he has until he pukes up his last few remaining brain cells.

It didn't take long for his balance to become uncoordinated and soon his body toppled forward falling off the table on the empty cans of beer and balloons that were scattered on the floor. The room quieted down as everyone including yourself and Cato included looked down at Sam, who lay flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.

"Is he okay?! oh my god, we need to help him." Cato motions to step forward, however, your arm shot out to stop her.

"Wait for it..."

You watch Sam slowly gets up before shouting. "That was fucking awesome! Hell yeah!" The crowd was brought back to life as they cheered along with him.

"He can't be serious?" She expressed her surprise.

The crowd cheered as Sam, dressed in a cowboy outfit, showed off his biceps in triumph. "Like a heart attack," you responded simply as he fires himself up, you swear that man belongs in wrestling instead of football. Cato seems unable to take her eyes off Sam, specifically his bare chest, partially covered by a leather vest that looks small in comparison to his enormous stature. With the red bandana tied around his neck and the tight wrangler cowboy-cut jeans, you would've thought he was planning a strip tease show.

"Hey, pick your jaw off the floor he's coming over here." You nudged her softly, watching Sam's eyes brighten extra once he spotted you leaning against the wall before making his way in your direction.

Sam's large frame pushed through the crowd as steps in front of you, his eyes shifting over to the right side of you towards Cato. It was a brief look but you could detect the admiration behind it, and Cato's fake unbothered demeanor as she looks everywhere but at Sam. You could practically hear her internal screaming that was going off inside her head. It's almost sickening how neither party wouldn't dare to be the first person to make a move.

"Y/N! I see you made it." As Sam embraces you, he opens his arms in greeting. As your cheek touches his sweaty chest, a heavy aroma of beer fills your nostrils, making you physically cringe.

"Can't see how I would miss this." You said wiping your cheek with a grimace as you pull away.

"Well, the last time I heard from you it sounded like you wanted to." He said with a chuckle. Your eyebrows furrowed not knowing what he meant. Sam seems to notice and continues saying." You texted me and said Sam, what makes you think I want to party at the exorcist's house?"

You let out a sound of realization, remembering the text you had sent him after he insist you partake in his foolery. To which you flat out dismissed, even though you consider Sam to be one of your closest friends, and find a majority of his chaotic antics amusing there were some things you have boundaries too, and one of those things is being inside a house where multiple murders happened. Not exactly a place you want to go for "fun". But nonetheless, you were here.

"Hey, you made it seem like you were eager to go to this party," Cato spoke up, looking at you confused.

"I was..." You trailed off not knowing what to say, distinctively remembering inquiring to Cato about the party, instead of going to a board game cafe she proposed to you with her friends. "Sam!" You exclaim, changing the subject. "I must say you've outdone yourself with this one."

"Pretty sick right? The blood was hard to scrub off when we were decorating the place but I'd say it turned out pretty good." He nodded to himself looking around.

You and Cato shared a look before saying. "Wait, what?"

He faced you two and flashed a grin. "I'm only kidding."

Before anyone could say anything else a voice calls out. "Yo, Sam!"

It was Sam's best friend Nick. The two of them were strikingly similar in many ways, and sometimes they shared the same uncanny ability to think and act irrationally. However, Nick was not your biggest fan for whatever reason you don't know. Okay, that's not true you do know the reason, but managed to put it past you.

"What's up?" Sam said acknowledging him.

"Me and the boys playing beer pong out back, you trying to shoot?" He asked after briefly greeting Cato and ultimately ignoring you. Ah. No surprise there. Though you weren't fazed in the slightest.

"Hell yeah! are any of you willing to put some money down ?" Sam grinned.

"Logan might not since he blew his last five hundred." His daddy's five hundred, Logan Wilson has never worked a day in his life and only fiend off his rich parents. Just like you. But, unlike Logan, you spend your money on things that are worthy, like shoes, clothes, hair, and makeup…

Not a stupid game that consist throwing plastic balls into cups of beer.

You notice Nick purposely has his back to you and was facing Cato and Sam. Although you didn't care, you don't like being ignored, especially when you're so used to there being a lot of attention on you most of the time.

"It's not nice to ignore someone, Nick." You speak up placing a hand on your chest as if you were hurt by his lack of attention. Hell would have to freeze over for you to find yourself caring about the feelings of someone who ate a worm just because he saw on the internet of it tasted like chicken.

"Not ignoring, just not caring for your existence." He says while cutting his eye over to you.

"And why is that?" You ask with a confused look on your face.

He gritted his teeth as he said, "Are you seriously going to pretend like what you did to Tyler last month didn't happen?"

Throwing up your hands in desperation, you said to Nick, "Exactly a month ago! All wrongs need to be forgiven and forgotten. So tell your brother to stop being dramatic and unblock me so we can work things out. "

"You know, I am so glad you guys are through. That way he can find someone who has more class and is less bitchy." He scoffs.

"Just like your dad did to your mom last year I assume right?"

"You're such a bitch…" He said starting to get in your personal space, however, Sam stepped in between you two.

Your chuckle was uninhibited, despite him being twice as large as you. A hum escaped your lips as you glanced down at your medium-sized pink French tips, reminding yourself to schedule an appointment with your nail technician.

"Hey man, cool it, just go ahead. I'll be out there in a minute." Sam assured giving him a serious look.

Nick continues to glare at you as he walked away while you give him a mocking wave goodbye.

"Cat, I know what you're going to say." You huffed out practically feeling her disapproval.

"Good so you know that was so low of you to do?" She hissed.

"I didn't even say anything that was oh-so bad."

"You were totally out of pocket saying that about Tyler and on top of that you made fun of their parent's divorce!"

"He called me classless and bitchy." You defended. "Sam help me out here?"

He scratches his head looking uneasy. "I don't agree with what he said but you did cheat on his brother."

"Would you guys stop saying that? I didn't fully cheat!" You huffed crossing your arms. "It was more of a half-cheat..."

A month ago you made a big mistake. To make a long story short, you were at your boyfriend Tyler's frat party and got pissed on alcohol, then made out with a guy. Even worse it was the night of his birthday when he discovered you and the random guy kissing. In fairness, you thought he was Tyler since they seemed to favor each other so much. Not to mention that you were drunk. When you're drunk, you sometimes do really stupid shit under the influence.

"Also, he's not officially my ex I'm working on getting him back by the way." You said. Even though he hasn't replied to any of your texts and blocked you on social media, you still believe that he will come to realize what you did wasn't entirely bad and forgive you. Your touch starvation was exacerbated by his absence.

"Shouldn't you...give him space?" Sam spoke hesitantly.

You gave him a stare.

"Space? I've given him a month to forgive me!"

"That is not how forgiveness works." Cato shakes her head. " And I agree with Sam, maybe you should just let him breathe."

You didn't miss the way Sam looked at her as if she knew the answers to all the world's unanswered questions. God that guy is so whipped.

"You act as if I show up at his home with binoculars and watch him."

"No but you did make a fake account on Instagram to-" Sam started to say

"Sam!" You cut him off with a glare.

He closes his mouth and threw his hands up in defense.

"Do you not see what you did was wrong?" Cato asked with curiosity.

"Of course, I think that it's wrong. I even sent him flowers and chocolates but I do think it's a little bit dramatic to break up over a kiss ." You shrugged. It wasn't like you fully had sex with the guy, that's why you call it a half–cheat you were thankfully pulled apart by Tyler before it go into a full-on cheat. Your logic to others may hold some absurdity but to you, it made perfect sense.

"Besides this isn't our first time having a break." You added.

"Yeah but that break was due to the fact you thought he was cheating on you with his sister!"

"I didn't know who she was! It's not my fault he hadn't taken me to meet his family."

"Because they don't like you." Sam chimes in.

"Ouch." You say, even though you know it was true. His mom down to the damn family dog didn't like you. Naturally, you never let that bother you. His family wasn't the only people you've come across that didn't take a liking to you and most certainly wouldn't be the last. Would it be nice if you could actually get along with his family? Sure but It's also nice to just have a good dick in your life and someone to talk to, that was all you needed anyway. You're dating him not his family.

"Anyways that's enough talk about my love life." You didn't feel like getting ridiculed about your relationship, especially by two people who are too cowardly to be in one.

The loud mellow beats from a song traveled throughout the house. With the bass shaking the windowpanes threatening to burst at any given moment, though it wouldn't surprise you considering how old this house is. Amid the sounds of people laughing, yelling over the music, drunken whooping, doors opening and closing, and the occasional pop of a balloon. You and Cato were throwing down in a swarm of sweaty drunks. Red solo cups in both you and Cato's hands you didn't know how long you were dancing or where the hell Sam drifted off to, probably had to gather himself once he'd seen Cato taking off her jacket revealing her black leotard unveiling her slim figure. The costume is completely out of her comfort zone thanks to you who insists you both go as the cliché sexy bunny girls.

You didn't know how long you were dancing, but the air felt hot and tight, the fog machine certainly didn't help either mixed with the sweaty odor of dancing bodies. Fresh air is definitely needed. You took a sip from your cup and swayed to the beat of the song, while your dancing had relaxed Cato was full-on letting her wild-side show. The responsible and shy girl who never parties, now is having the time of her life shaking away the modesty she had prior. By the time she hit the dance floor, she was already on her second? or fourth cup. You didn't know, regardless she completely went against her statement about only having one drink. Nevertheless, you were relieved her Alessia Cara syndrome wasn't set in motion and that she was finally letting herself have fun and not hiding somewhere in the corner playing chess on her phone.

Tilting your head back you quickly drink the last bit of alcohol. Your glossy eyes drifted around the room hoping to find a hot guy to fill your empty void and take home. No one. Absolutely no one caught your eye. Looks like it'll be yet another lonely night as you wait for Cameron to take you back. With a deep sigh, you turn your attention back to Cato who looked as if fresh air was something she needs, tiny beads of sweat trailing down her temple and her hair slightly frizzed. You knew you probably didn't look any better, if not worse. As much as you love parties they get exhausting quickly.

"I'm sweating my tits off let's head out in the back." You shouted over the loud music.

Whether Cato heard you or not she still nods her head. Slightly uncoordinated and a little bit tipsy you proceeded to walk in the direction of the back of the house, ignoring the way your body brushed up against multiple sweaty bodies and obvious lustful stares from onlookers. It would be a whole different story if they were at least attractive. You reach the rear entrance which is located by the kitchen the glass knew it the frigid air hits your warm bare arms and legs. The wind felt brisk and smelt heavily of weed.

"Whew! I thought I was gonna die for a second." Cato pants as she chugs a bottle of water you didn't notice she took.

"No kidding." You said shaking your head as you took in the scenery in front of you.

Unlike inside, the outside wasn't decorated and didn't have that many people standing around. Outside furniture was occupied by multiple people. Looking around you notice there are two main areas on the patio everyone is hanging around one by the firepit which resembles a snooze fest you barely took a glance, the other area, however, grabbed your attention it's the area Sam is at so, of course, it would be the loud, full of life and obnoxious. Multiple people stood around the pong table rotating the small burning herb to each other as Nick and Sam's team go back in forth.

"Joe's here!?" Cato says right before you were about to make your way over to Sam's side.

"What?" You asked not knowing who she was referring to, Joes are few and far between in your life, such as your uncle, a creepy gas station clerk to whom you gave a fake number, and the quiet boy from second grade who sat next to you during class.

You didn't recognize this Joe though.

Cato's finger points in the opposite direction of a guy with neck-length hair sitting down on the mini sofa looking very disinterested and ready to go home. He took more interest in fiddling with his fingers than anything. The longer you stared at the more you realize how cute he is.

She turns her head and squints her eyes at you. "Joe from my study group, the one I told you that'll help you with your Physics? You were to meet him at the library last week."

Ohhh, right. That Joe. Although she assigned him to you as a tutor, you've never actually met him, only hearing about his extreme isolated ways and brilliance in science from Cato.

"Please me tell you went and didn't bail on him?" She expressed that when she noticed the look on your face.

"What? Pfft, no I would never!" You exclaim waving her off.

"Well, let's go say hi. He looks miserable. I'm sure he'd like to see some familiar faces." Cato said.

You scanned the area and noticed he was the only one sitting there in his little world. Only an empty bottle of Kirkland purified water sat on his lap and kept him company.

Oh no...

Without giving you a chance to protest and give her a bullshit excuse she drags you along in the direction of Joe. Shit, shit you deadpan because you did bail on the study date she arranged for you. To you, the proposition of going shopping seems way more fun than sitting in a library bored out of your mind while some know-it-all explains the properties of matter and energy. It was a pain in the ass in high school and even more so in college.

When you both approach you have a chance to get a really good look at him and wow is he extremely attractive? That was the only word you could think of to describe him. His dark blonde hair is long and creates a messy curtain bang that compliments his features well. Pink lips with a defined jawline you were sure models only dream of having. He looked unreal, too good to be true. This man is gorgeous and you can tell even though he's sitting that he's tall and has a nice body underneath the semi-baggy outfit.

You were not the type to feel timid, but when his enchanting blue eyes looked up at the two of you. It took everything in your power to not shy away.

"Never in a million years did I think I would see Joe Burrow at a party, let alone a Halloween one," Cato said, shocked while leaning down to give him a brief hug as you stood behind her side awkwardly.

You secretly prayed for him not to acknowledge you, the last thing you want is him bringing up your "study date".

Cato will kill you if she finds out you didn't make it. Ever since you barely graduated high school with her, she's made it her duty to be your personal academic advisor to help you throughout college. So far it has been a rough couple of months for you in terms of grades and you've concluded that education is about to come to an end for you.

Joe forces out a laugh like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "I could say the same to you. Ezekiel dragged me here."

"Ah I see, y/n did the same to me." Cato said turning his attention to you.

As soon as he made eye contact with you, he began to peer up at you. With a sense of wonder and concern?

Taking you by surprise, he asks, "How is your grandmother?"

What?

You furrowed your eyebrows looking confused before you responded. "Um?"

His cheeks flush a deeper red and his eyes downcast to his fingers which didn't stop fiddling in his lap. Jesus his hands were huge, and veiny. Although it was difficult, you were able to look away and focused what came out his mouth next.

"Well, apparently, you texted me last week letting me know you couldn't make it to the study date we had due to your grandma being ill. That's my bad if I pried too much, I was just concerned. You don't have to answer, that was stupid of me to ask." He begins to ramble and even stutter at one point.

There is a lot of opening and closing of your mouth while you are unable to find any words to say. It wasn't long before Cato's eyes were drawn over to you, and a sharp, glaring gaze immediately identified the problem.

You grimaced as you fiddle with the pink pearl necklace an item that was bought on your shopping spree. "Oh! Um, she's fine, alive... and well." You said with a smile.

Your memory of telling that lie is hazy at best.

As far as you know, your grandmother is in great health and is not even in the same country as you. Instead, she is enjoying retirement with her husband probably relaxing on the beach in Rio de Janeiro, certainly not cooped up in her house with severe hay fever.

You could feel Cato's heated stare and you didn't dare look at her instead you pretend to take an interest in the mini firepit as if it were the most interesting thing in the world right now.

"That's—uh good to hear." He stammers out quietly. His eyes were still trained on his fingers, you notice his right leg started to bounce up and down rapidly.

You feel a strange sensation creeping up on you like a dark cloud hovering over your head. You can't quite put your finger on it, but it feels like a mix of uneasiness and discomfort. It's been a while since you've felt this way, and you're not sure how to deal with it. You try to ignore it, but the feeling only grows stronger, until it's almost suffocating. You realize that what you're feeling is guilt and shame, two emotions that you thought you had left behind a long time ago. You've always considered yourself to be someone who lives life without regrets or faults, but now you can't deny the fact that you've done something that you're not proud of. The weight of your actions is heavy on your chest, and you don't know how to make it go away. You take a deep breath and try to face the guilt head-on, knowing that the only way to move forward is to acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them.

Right off the bat, you knew Joe lacked a lot of social skills and was not the type to be outspoken which is why he didn't question you further. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to be presumptuous in any way. And that made you feel even worse. You met this man less than two minutes and he's already waking up emotions within you.

Clearing your throat you straightened your posture as if you weren't fazed in the slightest. Though you felt like the worst person on the planet. "Well, Jeff—"

You were cut off by Cato swatting your arm. Looking at her in utter confusion as to what did you say wrong. She hissed out, "It's Joe"

Instead of giving you an offended look, he chewed the inside of his lip looking everywhere but at you. He didn't even bother correcting you. Judging by his demeanor you can tell he's feeling extremely awkward.

"Joe, do you mind if I take a seat right here?" You gave him another strained smile, pointing to the small space next to him.

He nods his head and watches you plop down with a sigh of relief. Your heels have been slowly killing you for the past few minutes, and you were on the verge of taking them off at any moment. However, even if you were wearing stockings, you would be too afraid to let your feet touch the filthy ground, no matter how protected they were.

Because of Joe's large frame taking up most of the space and your side being pressed against his, you could feel his body tense as he awkwardly folded his arms in his lap in an attempt to avoid any contact, like that seems to be his goal. And maybe it is considering the fact you'd just acknowledged him by the wrong name and to top it off you failed to show up last week.

You're almost certain he doesn't like you very much at the moment.

Maybe you can change that...

Just as you were about to say something to Joe, Cato beats you to the punch. "So, how long have you been hanging out here?"

"Um—" Joe pauses to take a deep sigh, his mouth twists as he thinks over his answer. "For about ten minutes or so, it's more tolerable out here than in there."

"That's true." She nods in agreement. "Have you had anything to drink?" Cato speaks again with a smile, but you could still see the irritation behind it not aimed at Joe but toward you. And you knew what it stemmed from.

"Of Alcohol? No—"

"No? That is horrible! We'll fetch one for you." She rushes out of her seat, which was across from you and Joe, before you can react she grabs your forearm, yanking you from your seat as you sputter out in surprise and confusion.

"I'm good you don't have to—" Joe spoke up but Cato was already headed towards the door that leads back inside the house. You passed Sam who looks confused watching Cato drag you back into the house.

Within seconds of entering the kitchen, she pulls you to a corner where fewer people are gathered and stares at you with a glare.

"Ow, what was all that for ?" You whined rubbing your arm.

"You are such a liar! Where do you get off??" She exclaims. You open your mouth to answer but she put her hand up to stop you. "That was rhetorical."

"I'm guessing this is about the tutor date?" The question came out more as a statement than anything.

"You think!? I was under the impression you were going to put in some effort." She sighs deeply with a sense of disappointment in her eyes. You felt like you were standing in front of your mother instead of your best friend. "Is there any way you can justify, with truth for disregarding his time to help you?"

Actually yes, you would not be standing here looking hot as you are if it wasn't for the shopping spree you did. However, you had a feeling she wasn't going to like that answer so instead you gave her the answer she wants to hear.

"Would you calm down? I'll just reschedule."

You were planning to do that anyway since your Physics grade was declining rapidly. Your professor's angry emails keep reminding you.

Cato laughs half-heartedly. "I wish you luck with that, Joe keeps to himself and does not tutor anyone. I had to give up my LEGO creator space shuttle explorer for him to agree to tutor you, now that was for nothing."

Her LEGO what?

"I'm sure he'll take pity on my grandmother and give me another shot." You said with a sly smile.

"You think he actually bought that?"

You never cared enough to see if others believed your excuses in the past, so it was difficult to tell. However, you care now, especially since you feel extremely guilty about the entire situation.

"Dunno, if he did or didn't I'm still gonna ask him."

Cato looks at you for a few seconds before sighing. "Why not just find another tutor?"

"Because It's unlikely I'll find one who looks like that." You weren't going to sugarcoat the reason for wanting him to be your tutor, his looks play a major part. The shopping spree would have been a no-go if you had known how hot he looked before you canceled out on him.

"Jesus, you are something different." She snorts as she grabs a can of beer.

"I take that as a compliment" You smile brightly.

"Well, if he agrees promise you'll take it seriously this time?"

"Come hell or high water, I'll be there." You responded quickly, ready to go back outside and accompany Joe again.

If he could change one thing tonight it will be texting Ezekiel earlier out of boredom. Joe thought maybe they'll end up playing super smash bros or catching a few sports games on TV. Instead, he had unintentionally allowed his roommate to coax him into going to a party he had zero interest in. Joe lives and breathes to stay in his own space so the idea of being surrounded by sweaty bodies, booze, and a bunch of horny people looking for someone to spend their night with has never sparked his interest. As soon as he enters the doorway he automatically wanted to turn back and spend his night copped inside his apartment, that's how he spends most of his nights anyway: tucked away from the world while entertaining himself with reruns of Animal Planet.

Now he's surrounded by the aroma of sweat from different bodies and loud music that will surely have his ears ringing once he leaves this place. God he hates these types of parties, and to make matters worse it's on Halloween his least favorite holiday.

He felt like the odd man out standing in the dusty corner of the keeping room that is adjacent to the kitchen taking tiny sips of water because he didn't want to rush the drink fearing he'll get thirsty soon after, then he'll have to re-collect his strength to navigate through the rowdy crowd to get another. There are a lot of people and almost all of them are drunk off their asses including Ezekiel who is grinding sloppily between two girls with devil horns.

As out of touch as he is with the scene in front of him, he couldn't knock anyone for having fun. And is glad his roommate is enjoying himself for the most part. No matter how ridiculous Ezekiel looked in his fireman costume which was just an opportunity to show off his abs in hopes to attract the attention of girls. One of the many things Joe does know is that Ezekiel is a fuckboy through and through. He drinks, smoke, party, and fuck around with nearly every girl on campus it's enough to make Giacomo Casanova appear like a gallant virgin. It's no surprise he found his remedy within minutes of arriving, whereas Joe is still struggling. Not that he's trying anyway. He doubts he'll find anything enjoyable at this party.

Joe sighed as he surveyed the crowd for the millionth time. He looked for the usual drunkenness, obnoxious yelling, and horny dancing of college students. He sees people in all kinds of costumes. There were witches and ghosts, superheroes and villains, and even a few monsters. The music is loud and unbearable, and everyone seems to be having a good time. A part of him wonders sometimes if he is wasting his life by being alienated since he was not tempted by indulging in that lifestyle. Having been that way since he was in high school, he occasionally felt sorry for his parents for having to deal with his reclusive behavior, however, he soon realized there are worse things he could do or be. In his view, being introverted never hurt anyone.

That's when he saw her. Suddenly it seems like there is no end to the misery inflicted upon him tonight.

Across the room, dressed in a revealing cat costume that shows off her curves, is Brooke Earle his oh-so-loving ex-girlfriend whom he'd only dated for six months. She was surrounded by a group of guys, laughing and visibly flirting with them. Joe felt a pang of familiarity and distress. He remembered how she used to flirt with other guys when they were together, and how she would always make him feel like he wasn't good enough for her. He remembers how she would get mad over the smallest things, and how she would blame him for everything that went wrong with their relationship. The air suddenly felt thick and his stomach churned at the sight of her.

He'd broken up with her a few months ago but still felt like he was under a spell. He was afraid that if he ever saw her again he'd be drawn back into her toxic world. She looks beautiful with her long blonde curls and tight catsuit, but he knew her beauty was only skin-deep.

Joe felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. He didn't want to be in the same room as her, let alone give her an opportunity to talk to him. Without a second thought, he turn to make himself blend in with the crowd but it was useless considering he stuck out like a sore thumb since he was towering over nearly everyone in the room and is the only one not wearing a costume.

Then he heard her call his name.

"Wow I must be dreaming, I didn't know you were coming tonight!" Brooke says walking over to him with a smile. "You look nervous?"

Joe could feel his face turning red and his palms began to sweat as he looks down at the ground. He doesn't know what to say to her, they weren't even close to friends. He didn't want to be rude, but he also didn't want to engage with her either.

"I,uh, you look great I wasn't expecting you to be here." He mumbles. If he did he would've stayed put in his apartment.

She laughs a sound that's equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. "You weren't expecting me? I wasn't expecting you," she said. " Well, I'm glad I finally ran into you, we should catch up sometime."

That's the last thing he'd want. Even though they attended the same college, he had avoided her at all costs since their breakup. It was easy for him to do so because he rarely goes out anyway.

He felt like he was suffocating as he shook his head. "No, I don't think that's a good idea," he said. "You are not going to wield yourself in my life again."

She looked taken back as if that was the last thing she'd expect him to say. "What? Why not?" she asked.

He took a deep breath trying to find the right words to explain. "I just don't think you're healthy for me to be around," he said. " you're not someone I want to be my girlfriend let alone someone who I can catch up with."

Brooke looked stunned and a bit hurt. But he knew he had to be honest with her. No more walking on eggshells.

He didn't let her utter another word before making his way toward the patio door. Ezekiel gave him a questionable look, worried about his friend's abrupt exit. However, he reassured him with a simple shake of his head to let him know everything was fine even though it was not.

As soon as he stepped outside, he let out a huge sigh of relief. He was finally able to breathe in some fresh air and escape the toxic presence of his ex.

Joe felt a mix of emotions as he drags his feet to the other side of the patio and sat down on the surprisingly clean outside sofa, ignoring the loud whoops and cheering by the small crowd that gathered around the beer pong table. He tried to shake the feeling of seeing her again but she had a hold on him. One that is negative. It was the last thing he wanted to do to himself again.

Untwisting the cap on his water bottle and taking the last swig. His stomach still felt fluttered and on edge hoping she doesn't decide to follow him outside.

As he sat on the patio, the flickering flames of the small firepit cast an orange glow across his face. He began to stare into the fire, lost in thought as the unpleasant memories his ex he desperately tried to keep away began to flood his brain. All those troublesome arguments she'd purposely try to start just so she can have an excuse to walk out and cheat left a nasty taste in his mouth. He thought about all the hurtful things she had said to him by now he knew she shouldn't faze him but it was hard to let go of the memories of someone who'd been such a big part of his life.

As the fire crackled and popped along with the loud chatter coming from the other side of the patio, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to not just say screw this party and leave Ezekiel to walk thirty-five miles home.

Suddenly he hears the sound of high heels clicking in his direction he looks up to see his friend from work-study, Cato, walking toward him with you in tow. He felt his heart skip a beat once his eyes landed on you, standing there dressed in a pink bunny costume. You look beautiful and vibrant. Joe feels embarrassed to admit that he's developed a small crush on you which is why he agreed to Cato's arrangement with the study date, if it were anyone else he wouldn't have done it.

But that backfired badly when you didn't show up.

He remembers walking out of the library feeling disappointed. He looked forward to that study date all week long. It was going to allow him to finally have a conversation with you and show you how smart he is. He'd waited there for hours until he got the text from you about your grandmother being sick which he believed until he inquired about her well-being to you.

The look on your face told him all he needed to know. Your face was tense, your eyes were darting around, and you seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

At first, he didn't know what to make of it. Had what he said upset you? Did your grandmother's health gotten worse?

Then you spoke, and he realized what was going on. You had lied to him. You made up an excuse for not showing up and now you're standing there underneath Cato's heated stare. Which tells him she didn't know about the lie you told.

He felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, he was somewhat hurt that you told him a terrible lie because he was truly concerned. Furthermore, he felt more awkward and embarrassed when, seconds later, you called him by the wrong name, which made him wonder if you were paying any attention to him at all.

Joe looked over to Cato who made small conversations while ultimately still glaring at you. He just sat there, feeling uncomfortable and flustered due to the fact you were sitting next to him and the aroma of your sweet perfume enchanting his senses. Before he knew it Cato was rushing to get him a drink he tried to decline the offer but it went in one ear and out the other. She urges you to follow her into the house as he sat there by himself once again unsure what to do next.

As he sat there waiting for your return, he watched the frat guys on the other side of the patio play beer pong. They were loud and obnoxious, shouting, and high-fiving each other after every shot. He felt a twinge of familiarity when he recognized one of the guys, Sam Hubbard. Ezekiel brought him around a few times and they'd only had a handful of conversations. Even though he wasn't used to talking with guys like Sam (excluding Ezekiel) who was outgoing, boisterous, and a bit of an airhead. There was still something about him to Joe that made him feel at ease. He seemed genuinely friendly and curious.

He was about to pull out his phone busy himself with playing a chess tournament when he heard someone call out his name.

"Joe! What's up, man?" It was Sam, walking from across the patio in his direction.

"Hey, Sam," He greets back standing up from his seat to give him dap.

"Dude it's been a while since I've seen you! What brings you to this party? You don't strike me as a party guy."

Joe shrugs. "Ezekiel wanted me to check it out, I don't know anyone here besides him and Cato."

He didn't bother to mention Rebecca it's best if she's kept locked out away in the past.

"Well, you know me!" Sam said, clapping him on the back before leaning closer to his ear. " Say, uh, are you and Cato like a thing? I saw you guys hug or whatever.. not that I'm a stalker—"

Sam continues to ramble until Joe stops him.

"Cato and I aren't together, we just know each other from a study group," Joe assures him so that he be free of Sam's beer breath wandering in his face.

"Oh! Really, man? That's great!" He throws an around Joe's shoulder excitedly. "Me and the boys were going to play truth or dare wanna play?"

Truth or Dare? He hadn't played that games since he was in elementary. It wasn't his favorite either, he hated being put on the spot in front of strangers.

He went to open his mouth to decline when he sees you walk back out onto the patio with Cato.

"What are you guys up to?" You ask observing the scene as you walk over to the two men.

"Joe just agreed to play truth or dare with the boys and me, you girls want in?"

You took a glance at Joe who was already looking at you and judging by his expression it didn't look like he got a chance to have a say in the matter.

"Only if other girls are playing too," Cato said crossing her arms, not wanting to play Truth or Dare with a group of just men. And honestly, you don't blame her.

"Of course! Yeah, hell yeah. Troy got his girl, Danielle. Ashley—" He pauses looking up to think of some more people. "Oh! And Alix from Cheer."

"Well, I'm in!" You beam. Not wanting to turn down any potential entertainment and playing those types of games brings out the best.

"Cool, I'm gonna gather up the rest and bring the bottles out." Sam grins patting Joe on the back before scurrying off.

Soon after, everyone crowded around on the patio. Forming a circle around the firepit. You took your previous spot next to Joe whose leg started to bounce up and down, you took pity on the guy because unlike before he was surrounded by a group of drunken party-goers something he was most likely trying to stay away from inside.

"Okay, here are the rules: You can either choose to take a dare or take a shot." Sam holds up a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila.

You frown in disappointment. "I thought we were playing Truth or Dare. Do you have to bring alcohol into everything?"

"It makes it more fun if you don't like it, don't play," Nick spoke up with irritation

"I'm just speaking for the people who don't drink, dickhead."

And by people you mean Joe, the drink Cato had given him is still full. You'd only seen him take a small sip which was out of appreciation. Seeing that gave you a conclusion he wasn't much of a drinker.

"Well, we know you're not one of those people. Little Miss "Alcoholic." Nick spoke.

"Really? That's all you got? I've been called worse by better." You said while flipping him off.

A few people chuckled, including Joe. Your stomach did a flip at the sound of laughter coming from him.

"Watch it now." A redhead spoke who is propped on Nick's lap.

"And what's gonna happen if she doesn't?" Cato raises her eyebrows at the girl. Tension began to arose as everyone look between you and Cato and the redhead with expectancy.

Sam clears his throat." Alright guys, let's start!"

The game starts with Sam daring Troy to give Danielle a lap dance which left everyone looking at the scene with amusement because Troy couldn't dance if his life depended on it. The game continues, with dares getting more and more ridiculous. On Cato's turn, she surprisingly picked "Dare", which turned out to be a harmless one. She had to call a nearby 7-Eleven and ask if they were open. So far no one has picked Joe and you could tell he was feeling at ease. Until it was Sam's turn again.

"Joe, it's your turn my man, Dare or Drink?" He grins face flustered from liquor.

Joe hesitated for a moment, not sure what to do. He's never played this kind of game before and he didn't want to look like a party pooper in front of you .

But then, he made his decision. "Dare," he said, trying to sound confident thinking he'll get an easy one like Cato.

However, by seeing Sam's growing smirk, he knew that wasn't going to be the case.

"Alright then, I dare you to ask any girl at this party to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with you."

Joe felt his heart sank. That's the last thing he wanted to do but he knew he had to follow up with the dare. He hesitated he didn't want to pick anyone he didn't know and be stuck in a closet with someone he didn't like.

Of course, he had you on his mind, but he doubts you'll agree—

"I'll play with you," You spoke up, with a smile while looking at him. "If that's okay?"

He felt his heart skip a beat. You looked at him with such anticipation. Not trusting his voice he nods his head in agreement. The rest of the guys excluding Nick hollers and whistles as you stood up holding out your hand for him to take which he does. He ignores the tingles he felt as his hand engulfs yours. Taking note of how soft and delicate they feel.

Sam led you both into the house to the upstairs closet. On the journey there you kept a firm grip on his hand, and as you weave through the crowds of people Joe caught the attention of Ezekiel who was still sandwiched between the two girls. "That's my boy! Go ahead and getcha some!" He yells out excitedly.

Joe felt his cheeks fluster, he doesn't know what to expect since he's never played the game seven minutes in Heaven but he knew it wasn't going to be any of that. By the sound of it just means that you two would be locked in a closet for seven minutes what could you two possibly do in such a small duration of time?

"Joe! Joe!" Brooke suddenly appears." Where are you going?" she asks him while giving you a sharp look. To which you reciprocated by looking at her unfazed.

He ignores her and motion you to keep walking. While Brooke looks on in anger and jealousy. Even though he didn't care whether she feels those types of emotions or not, a part of him felt good that she was seeing him with you. Maybe that'll show her once and for all she is not the girl he's chasing after anymore.

"Okay here we are you two have fun, remember seven minutes!" Sam cheesed as the three of you stop in front of an old closet at the end of the hall.

He ushers you two in and just as he was about to close it, your hand shot out to stop it. "Look after Cato don't let any weirdos near her. "

"You got it." He said with a salute before shutting the door leaving you and Joe In the cramped space. The only thing that accompany you two was the dusty light bulb above which only provided dim lighting.

It was tight and dingy in the small closet. You didn't care though, you were too busy staring at Joe as he towers over you, his entire physique is large. His breathing is soft and you can feel his body close to yours. There was a long moment of silence before you decided to try and break the ice.

"So," You clear your throat, rocking back on your heels. "You don't like parties."

Joe chuckles softly feeling his nerves ease up a bit. "Was that meant to be a question?"

"Just an observation." You responded trying to look anywhere but at him which was quite impossible since he was the only thing in your view due to his height.

"Well, your observation is correct." He sighs feeling himself relax. " I'm more of a....loner if that's what you want to call it. So these types of events aren't really on my radar."

"What is on your radar?"

"Being occupied with school and football." He says.

That piqued your interest Sam's always trying to get you to attend the school's football games. "You play football?."

"Well sometimes, I'm the third-string quarterback." Joe looks rather embarrassed to say as of you'll make fun of him, but you were just left confused. Much like any sports-related talk would have you.

"I'm sure you're great!" You beam a smile at him showing off your pearly whites.

"Thanks." He says with a smile.

You stood there in thought about your earlier introduction. Mentally cringing at how stupid you must've looked by not remembering your lie and how you addressed him by the wrong name.

"Hey, um, about the tutoring thing. I'm sorry." You said.

"Sorry about canceling out on me? Or the fact you gave me a horrible lie about your grandmother?" Joe said with amusement as he crossed his arms leaning on the door.

Damn, Cato was right he didn't buy it. You thought.

You let out a defeated sigh. "Both,"

He stares at you for a second squinting his eyes in thought. "What did you do that day anyways?"

"I made plans to go shopping. " You mumble looking down at your heels, expecting him to scoff or sigh in disappointment. The reaction you were used to by many.

"And you didn't think I'd want to go? I'm a bit hurt." He places a hand over his heart.

Your eyes light up as you looked up at him. "What?"

"Yeah," he shrugs pushing himself off the door. "You look like you know a thing or two about fashion and I desperately need some pointers."

"I can't tell if this is sarcasm or not. " You said slowly still eyeing him.

He threw his hands up in surrender. "No sarcasm. Just want to give you a heads up come the next tutor date if you so happen to have the urge to go shopping again just let me know, and I'll be happy to join you."

"Next.... tutor date?" You tilted your head in awe you were almost certain he wouldn't be so willing to ever offer you any help again.

Joe chewed the inside of his cheek before saying. "You don't have to come—"

"No! I want to! It's just..."You trailed off trying to find the right words. "I wasn't expecting that."

"How come?"

You shrugged. "Figured you'd hate enough to not tutor me."

"I'll admit... I was a little hurt. But it wasn't enough to make me hate you, trust me on that." He says the last part quietly while his eyes lock directly on yours.

There was an air of infatuation in his eyes as he looked at you with a shy smile. You didn't miss the glimmer of interest in his expression.

A moment of silence fell in the small closet the only sound that could be heard is the thumping bass from the music downstairs. The proximity between you and Joe is so close when you look up at him for the millionth time you notice a small piece of cobweb in his hair. More likely due to the fact his head directly touches the ceiling.

"You have something in your hair." You stated.

He blushes. "Oh, thanks for letting me know"

"Here, let me get it for you." You gently remove the cobweb from his hair.

"Thanks." He says.

Taking him by surprise you stepped closer to him, your chest pressed against his. You hear his breath hitch by your movement and see his Adam's apple bob up and down when he swallows thickly. "Your hair is very pretty." You breathe out reaching up to swirl one of your manicured fingers through his hair.

Joe blinks at you, not finding the strength to formulate any words he could feel his face heats up bashfully.

"You're very pretty too." He mumbles so low you almost didn't catch it.

You open your mouth with only the tip of your tongue showing. With sparkling eyes, you decide to test the waters a bit when you lean closer to him as if you're telling him a secret. "Wanna make out?"

"What?!" Joe sputters out, with wide eyes.

"Do you want to make out with me?" You repeated slowly to give him more time to comprehend every word.

"Um—" Joe begins to say before pausing he didn't know how to respond.

"It's fine if you don't want to, no pressure." You shrug as if wouldn't faze you if he agrees or not. But deep down you eagerly wanted to release some of the sexual frustration that's been pent up for weeks without Tyler and Joe seems like the perfect candidate.

Joe shuffles his feet. "You want to make out in here?"

"That's kinda the main point of this game." You giggle, watching him pinch his lips." You never played Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

"No, I thought we were just going to talk." He chuckles nervously his eyes crinkled at the corners. Your mouth opened to assure him that you both can simply talk if that is what he feels comfortable with. Before you can let out another word he speaks again. "But I do want to kiss you if that's okay?"

"Go for it." You tell him, subtly running your tongue over your bottom lip and tasting the pink strawberry lip gloss you applied earlier.

Joe's hands fidget nervously by his sides, and his eyes keep flickering to your puffy lips. You can tell he's nervous, but it's kind of endearing. You almost started to wonder if he's ever kissed anyone before. Gradually, he leans in closer, his breath hot on your nose and cheeks. You can feel his heart racing, and it makes your pulse quicken. His perfect proportion lips glisten after his tongue swipes over them when your arm reaches up to curl the back of his head pulling him down to your height. It was a little awkward with Joe having to crane his neck downwards. As your lips meet, you were met with the softness of his lips, it wasn't shocking in any way since you knew just by gazing at them you were going to feel satisfied.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds with you being the one who pulled away. You notice his hands were awkwardly by his side as if he didn't know what to do with them. A breathless chuckle left your lips at his tense posture.

"What's funny?" He asks looking down at you with a worried look.

"You just need to relax." You say, reassuring, with a smile. You took your thumb to wipe away the pink gloss you left on his lip before slowly trailing both hands down his long arms to grasp his hands which feel a little clammy. Without breaking eye contact you guide his hands toward your lower waist. "Is this okay?"

Joe finds himself completely lost in your grasp, unable to ignore his hand placement. This was more than okay, there's a certain look in his eye that says, "I want more," and you suddenly realize Joe is a bit different than the shy, quiet-spoken guy you met an hour ago. His hands travel down further until both rest on your backside a surprised gasp left you when he yanks you more into him before attaching his lips to yours. This time his kiss held more confidence, and your lips worked together perfectly, he clearly knew what he was doing this go around and you loved it.

The large fingers of his hand splay over your plush cheeks that protrude from your leotard as he gives it a firm pinch, which makes you gasp again in shock, he takes this opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips and gently massage it as he does so. He begins to turn you both around. Resulting in your back coming in contact with the door. There Joe becomes more feral, his tongue prodded between your parted lips, teeth biting on your lips firmly. It was dizzying mostly because it's been a minute since you've had some air so you broke away. He didn't mind it though because he began to continue his kiss on your cheek down to your neck.

He's truly taking you by surprise, when you walked into this you thought it'll be you who take control. However, right now Joe is showing absolutely no restraint. And you love it. You can tell he's a man who appears reserved, but there is something lurking beneath the surface, a wildness you feel but not quite make out. A primal desire you know is there.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this with you." He said in between kisses on the slope of your shoulder and neck.

"Really?" A breathless moan escapes from you, wondering how the hell was that possible when tonight was the first time you guys had a proper introduction to each other.

He must follow you on Instagram. You got quite a following on there plus that's where most guys see you at anyway along with parties which you knew most likely he don't attend.

"Mm-hm," He hums as his hands settle on the curve of your backside, inhaling sharply when your hips rub against the hardness that pokes through his jeans.

It wasn't until he lifted one of your legs to curve around the waist that you realized the problem he had, too caught up in the feel of his lips biting and sucking on your neck. You giggle at the tickling sensation as he continued to hold your leg around him snugly.

He mumbles something incoherent due to the fact his face is nuzzled at your neck, then he lifted your other leg up so now both your legs are wrapped around his waist. A squeal left you at being suddenly lifted off the ground, it didn't take long for a blush to bloom and spreads throughout your entire body as he holds your more firmly. His arms are so strong and his mouth is back pressed on yours. While his hands cup your backside holding you against the door.

Your arms were clinging around his shoulders as he nibbles on your bottom lip softly biting into it before running his tongue over it.

An intense thrill runs through your body as a result of the sensation. As his heart races, so does yours, and you both feel it. It's such pure and absolute bliss that you can almost forget that there's a whole world out there. You just want to stay in this moment forever. As you cling to each other, locked in an embrace and lost in this moment, you feel completely and utterly connected. You've never experienced this feeling before not even with Tyler.

You don't know how long this make-out session was and you're pretty sure it was well over seven minutes. You weren't complaining though because you were just about to give this man something he wouldn't forget. Just as you were about untangle your legs from his waist a loud knock made you both jump.

He pulls back, his breath heavy, and his hands holding you gently. You dropped down to your feet just as the door swing open revealing Sam and Cato along with everyone else who was on the deck excluding Nick looking at you two with amusement.

"Had fun?" Sam grins, his eyes dancing back and forth between you and Joe.

You smile and chuckle at his question. "That's an understatement." you reply feeling a chill on your neck due to the wetness Joe's mouth left. As you stepped out the closet Cato looks at you with a "tell me everything" look.

"Give me all the details when we get to the car." Cato said quietly to you pulling you toward the stairs.

Turning your head to look at Joe you weren't surprise to see him standing there with a deep redness on his cheeks while his lips were coated with your lip gloss as the guys crowd around him letting out loud whistles and whoops. His eyes connect with your as you walk away, you called out

"I look forward to our next tutor date."

Joe's mind is racing as you disappear. But a smile spreads across his face, as you just confirmed everything he had just hoped.

Taglist: @blu3jeanbaby @tigertales9 @wickedfun9 @joeburreauxsworld @cherry2stems @luvjoe9 @maricciardo @lonelywiththestars @clumsyjoeb @certifiedlesbianbaddie @idyllicbarb @balanceingrace

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fanfic

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isildur-apologist · 1 year

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You don’t hate Amazon you hate the Silmarillion: a genuine review of Rings of Power

It’s no secret that overall I liked RoP. I watched it with my roommate who gets very hyped about stuff like that and it made for a really exciting viewing experience, instead of the more bitter perspective I might have taken if I watched it alone. But, I also know there are some real faults with the show, I never thought it was perfect and know it’s not on par with the the LOTR movies and I never expected it to be. But, the fault for that is not on Amazon.

(I want to note that I am not defending Amazon. I hate Amazon. Jeff Bezos can catch this guillotine. I am, however, defending the creative team behind the show, which is how I will refer to them from here on out, I only called it Amazon to grab your attention. )

Here’s my point though, almost every (valid) critique I see of this show isn’t a problem with decisions the creative team made, it’s an inherent problem in any adaptation of the Silmarillion (and associated works but I’m just going to refer to the Silmarillion for brevity’s sake).

The Silmarillion, as full and detailed as it is, is a shit story. The events of the second age do not fit neatly into a clean story structure the way LOTR does because it’s not supposed to. The Silmarillion isn’t a story, it’s a history, and history is never narratively satisfying. Tolkien (Jirt, not talking about Christopher here) didn’t publish the Silmarillion in his lifetime, he only even published LOTR and the hobbit, everything else attributed to him was published after his death. He had no intent of making the other works anything other than a comprehensive history of the world he made for documentation’s sake, never with intent to publish. He didn’t even compile all the writings, Christopher did.

Because if this, the Silmarillion is really hard to adapt for a number of reasons:

1. Elves aren’t good main characters.

Elves aren’t supposed to be relatable characters, they’re aloof and static and inherently non-relatable (There are exceptions but they’re usually not regular elves. Elrond is half elven, Legolas is very young). Humans and hobbits are the relatable characters through which we view the world, because they can have human flaws and conflicts, which makes for a very human story. To make elves the main characters you need to make them interesting characters, and elves aren’t supposed to have human flaws, and so you either stay faithful and they don’t feel relatably human, or you change their to be more human and it feels disingenuous to what we know elves to be like. It’s a lose lose.

2. Middle earth is not supposed to be pretty.

A huge part of LOTR is realizing every place they visit is either the ruins of a past, much larger civilization, or a city that is a fraction of what it used to be (Gondor in lotr is NOTHING compared to what it was in the early 3rd age, or Arnor and definitely not Númenor, Rivendell is a pebble compared to Lindon and Eregion, we only ever see Khazad-dûm as a decrepit tomb instead of the most prosperous mine in all of middle earth is once was). This juxtaposition is integral to the main themes of lotr and is imperative to the story jirt was trying to tell. A story set in the 2nd age cannot have these ruins because IT IS THE RUINS. It cannot “feel like lotr�� because it is what will make lotr lotr.

3. Characters (individuals) are of little importance in the Silmarillion.

As important as Elendil and Isildur (and even Anárion) are to the plot of literally the entire 3rd age, we know little about their own narratives. They are names for the people that did these important actions and that’s it. Again, the Silmarillion is a history, it’s not going to say what Elendil and Isildur’s relationship was like in excruciating detail or what Isildur wanted to do with his life before sailing to middle-earth and becoming a king. You have to write these characters a good story if you’re adapting the Silmarillion and sometimes there isn’t space to write a compelling journey in the space Tolkien left. Because they don’t have a character, any character you give them will seem “out of character” to many people.

Basically my point is that before you go and say “well this is weird or I didn’t like this choice” think about what the creative team had to create to make an interesting show out of a story not designed to be told. Sometimes they didn’t make the perfect decision, but if you were tasked with adapting something unadaptable do you think you would do it perfectly?

#rings of power #the rings of power #rings of power review #lotr #tolkien #silmarillion #galadriel #elrond #gil galad #celebrimbor #arondir #numenor #elendilf #oops I meant #elendil #isildur #durin iv #lord of the rings #lotr rop

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asexualbookbird · 4 months

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BEHOLD! BOOKS I READ IN 2023!

A handful of rereads, a lot of new favorites, and I put a huge dent in my physical unread piles! I'm pretty happy with my reading year to be honest!

BEST OF 2023

Nettle and Bone by T Kingfisher - If I haven't talked about it enough please read this. An absolute DELIGHTFUL start to the year, which is odd to say of a book about abusive spouses and dead sisters. Like. I wanted to reread it right after finishing it, and will probably reread it this coming year, I loved it so much

The Untethered Sky by Fonda Lee - also heart wrenching but listen, there are BIRDS! Giant birds!!!! A strange pick me up during a bad time, but it WORKED!

To Shape A Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose - Oh what a marvelous read, a delightful adventure, I look forward to book two!

Provenance by Ann Leckie - don't hate me, but I think I might enjoy this more than the Imperial Radch trilogy. It's really what I wanted from A Memory Called Empire, and it was so much fun to see the Radchaai from a different perspective!

The Liar's Knot by MA Carrick - DEROSSI VARGO, MY BELOVED! But also, this has such rich worldbuilding. Every time there's a Pattern reading in a scene, the authors did their own reading in real life and put the results in the book. They came up with multiple calendars for the world. And it never feels overwhelming, everything is integrated so naturally! Ren heists an entire family for her and her sister. A lovely brick of a book :)

Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire - I think this might be my favorite Wayward Children book so far, I'm glad these books are bite sized because I want to read them over and over <3

The Raven Tower by Ann Leckie - WHAT A FUNKY LITTLE BOOK!

WORST OF 2023

Black Wings Beating by Alex London - birds would not fucking do that. Why are we following the most insufferable of the characters. Why is everything about him, even the parts about his sister. Blegh.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo - this canNOT be the same book tumblr couldn't stop talking about for months. I know I shouldn't judge a book by its sequel, but I know about the glowing demon dick. Come on. Also, like, the whole book was building up to rescuing someone and then THEY NEVER DID! wtf lol

Tress and the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson - Snooze. Yawn. Snore. One of the most boring books I've read. I was right to avoid Mr Sandwich and his books.

Whalefall by Daniel Kraus - I feel bad because someone hyped this a lot and was excited about it, and so I was excited about it, but it read like it was written specifically for a movie in mind. It's just Daddy Issues™️in the ocean.

This does not include rereads, of which Name of the Wind was one. Yes, I still loved that one. Still fun, still weird that it never felt long despite being a BRICK. Proof I don't hate long books because they're long, I hate long books that don't have to be long. Which is why the Dishonorable mention goes to Priory of the Orange Tree lol Get edited, beloathed.

Anyway! Onwards to 2024! :)

#bookbird babbles #books #booklr #reading wrap up #yearly wrap up #yearly wrap up 2023

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bloobluebloo · 5 months

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New interview...am I crazy or is this a lot of interviews?

This answer is...fascinating because while it is true that TotK allows you to discover...literally anything at any moment, it is that very thing that could spoil any mystery there is to the game. For example, if you do discover that Zelda is the dragon early on, it makes going through the story a nerve grating experience as you are subjected to everyone wondering where Zelda is and following them into obvious traps. I can agree that it is hard to find a good balance between telling a cohesive story while retaining complete player freedom but that complete freedom for the player makes it...actually rather hard to keep anything a mystery. You uncover the wrong mystery and now you're not having a great time. I don't know, it feels a little disingenuous of them to not admit that they tried to fit a linear story in a non linear game. This feels like they were avoiding the question with a lot of words.

This answer sort of pisses me off if I have to be honest. On one hand, I think people that keep clamoring for the old formula are annoying in their own way, because Zelda to me has always been a series that was not afraid to try new things. Zelda is close to 40 years old now; of course the developers will want to try something different to breath new life into the series, and it is perfectly fine to not like the new direction. However, to dismiss people's complaints as nostalgia and "the grass is greener" also sounds like a big misunderstanding of what people enjoyed about the more linear approach to Zelda. To hear Aonuma, the one who has worked with this series for so long, express confusion at why people enjoyed the more linear style of Zelda makes me wonder what his own relationship with past titles has been like. You worked with it, you had your hands in it, and you can't see any reason why people might prefer the older games? Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

As a person who has never given a shit about the timeline my question is: did this not occur to you when you released an official one? Developers are free to do what they want but when you say there's an official timeline and then say well you feel restricted by the thing you created then maybe you shouldn’t have created one to begin with. Are people annoying with the timeline? Sure but it's not baseless either. This whole interview sort of tells me that both Aonuma and Fujibayashi are more interested in gameplay and seem really uninterested in the story and lore elements of the game. However, when people argue that LoZ is about gameplay and not story, they seem to not consider that gameplay is also part of the story. TotK's gameplay was so disjointed from the story that it's just hard to ignore. The new abilities are all fun to play with but what do they lend to the story? How do they relate to the Zonai? Why did the Zonai need them? Older titles on the other hand integrated their gameplay mechanics into the story and made the experience feel cohesive. It just surprises me that Aonuma seems to just dismiss that, in a way? I just really hope that Zelda isn't just becoming some huge sandbox game a la minecraft.

#admiral’s log

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whoismissriley · 7 months

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Adore You - Fanfic.

SUMMARY: The life of the Captain of Task Force 1-4-1 has always been a mystery. Even for his closest friends and teammates. He alone carries the loneliness in the middle of the night and the stormy memories of the past that make him sink into a sea of Scotch Whisky. However, there is a small light that appears from time to time around him. A girl, of course, who makes him feel like she’s in her twenties when she’s around, she’s light and smiling and full of life. She is one of the best Sergeants in the unit and the best in hand-to-hand combat. John is secretive, even with what she makes him feel. But she doesn’t give up, to get his attention, again and again… and again. And in the midst of all his darkness, let her love him… and make him stop feeling

Warnings: This story is rated +18 Has explicit violence, obscenity, do not read if you do not agree with this. AGE DIFFERENCE, the protagonist will have a significant age difference with John (28/39). HISTORY, will not follow the course of the game nor its history in it.

This is my first time translating something, so sorry for the mistakes.

«"What’s a grumpy captain?" she smiled giving him a push with the shoulder.

"I’m not… grumpy" he looked at her seriously "maybe just a little" she laughed softly and he couldn’t help but do it, she was so… cute.»

Chapter 1

THE LOUD SOUND OF THE HELICOPTERS was for Leah almost the same as an orgasmic sensation. Perhaps the same sensation he felt when he brandished a knife into the flesh of his enemy and saw their lost eyes as his short life ended.

Her companions called her Angel of Death. Because she was as beautiful as she was dangerous.

At first, in her first years of service after Laswell had inducted her into the private SAS group commanded by Task Force Captain John Price, she did not like the nickname. Not when Soap said it just as John Price was hovering nearby. She didn't like that he saw her as a violent or too brutal woman.

But he ended up getting used to it.

The first years working with them were intense. Getting used to being a companion of men seemed like a difficult task to perform, but both her espionage ability and her perfect hand-to-hand combat were abilities that Laswell believed were necessary to integrate into Price's group.

Soap was tactical and brute, brute force for the most part. Ghost was skilled in long-range shooting, including melee weapons. He could throw a knife meters away from an enemy and stick it right in the middle of their damn pupil.

Leah had learned from him in all that time and managed to add to her list one good thing that she did the most and Ghost Riley was proud of his student.

Gaz, it was brutal and dirty. His hands were not very meticulous on missions, he always left too obvious traces, but he was fast and more agile than Ghost and Soap.

Leah saw how the group worked, Soap and Ghost always moved together, Gaz and Captain Price too. Gaz moved forward and the Captain cleared.

She always worked around them, always adapting to their needs. If she had to change places with one of them, Leah had no problems, she had learned to know them so well that she imitated their movements so as not to break the pattern.

But she had never, ever had to work with the Captain and it pained her to admit that she felt a little disappointed by that.

While her companions had opened up to her over time, telling her about their private lives, the Captain's to her was a tortuous mystery. As if they were at the foot of a huge mountain trying to climb and slipping again and again while he is there, at the top. Looking at them and laughing at them in case anyone managed to find out something about him.

Leah had heard Soap say that the only one who really knew Price was Laswell, because they had worked together for a long time in the past.

And Leah had obviously always been interested in the Captain. Always trying to remain feminine enough when she was around him to attract his attention, although sometimes she forgot it on the battlefield. She didn't think about it until she was under the shower and the thoughts of everything that had happened shook her.

Then she realized and understood that someone as unattainable as him was never going to set his eyes on her.

Of course, they were "friends", they talked from time to time and when there were only opportunities, they shared a cigarette in silence.

Leah made jokes and she loved how he laughed, stiffly, pursing his lips under his beard as he looked at her.

It was as if for a moment only she existed for him.

But, as nice as he was, he was distant.

"Good morning" Soap rubs his eyes when he sees her, stretching over his head, a group of recently arrived female soldiers trotted past in front, whispering and laughing in their direction "Good ladies…" he greeted solemnly, trying to flirt with them "Hey Leah, if it's your turn to train those in that group today, could you say a good word about me to the one with black hair?" Leah followed her gaze, there were many with black hair.

"Specific, Soap"

"The one with black eyes, the one who stares at him" Leah is almost scared when she feels Ghost appear out of nowhere, but she continues looking for the girl until she finds her, the group of women stops and she is the only one who is looking towards where they are, staring at Soap with a tender smile.

"I invited her for a drink last night," Soap shrugged his shoulders, "she's pretty cute."

"Pretty cute?" Ghost growled "you were drooling, Johnny."

Soap laughed and Leah shook her head.

"Where is Gaz?" Leah asked, looking around.

"In the office with Price," Soap said.

The captain always left his office at ten in the morning to shout orders, it was always the four of them, to run the place, if not to train new recruits or take charge of training or meetings that he hated attending. It was to be replaced when she had to go into town and have meetings at the CIA building where she herself had left.

And that morning was not far from reality.

Leah looked at the watch in her hand and tried to maintain a relaxed posture, paying attention to what Soap was telling Ghost about the position of the weapons or how he had shot the other day in training, but her eyes went to the man He came out after Garrick, in his military suit and hat, some leaves in his hands while he rubbed his face with his hands.

His walk was slow and light, it was as if he moved around without having to look where he was stepping because he knew the entire place by heart. He was also tall, six foot nine, a little shorter than Ghost but intimidating enough for her, who was five foot six, dammit. He was a flea in the midst of so many big men.

“Hey” Gaz joined the group, greeting everyone, Leah was feeling calm that morning. He had decided of his own free will to try to pretend that he had no feelings for the Captain, he had been trying to do it for years, but this day he really wanted to pretend that they were just friends.

“What's up for today Cap?” Soap wanted to know.

“Ghost and Gaz” Price said looking at the sheets “I need you out, I need you to go to Manchester and meet with Laswell, he will give you a location, go and extract. Do you understand?”

“Copied” Ghost murmured.

“Soap, I need you at shooting training with Group A and Leah” Price gently looked up, blinking with a neutral expression “I need you to train the new group of women who just arrived, make them sweat and suffer, yes? You're good at that” Price winked at her and she turned red but couldn't help it. John Price smiled when he saw her and sighed, looking at the others “well, let's move.”

Ghost and Gaz walked away immediately, Soap walked away with Price behind them as they talked about something, she stood still for a moment thinking about their moves, her mind creating the perfect tactics and training for the new ones as her eyes followed his back. John Price's width and big shoulders.

His mind wandered to how strong his arms would be or whether his chest would be as hard as the wall behind his back. Her mouth went dry and she didn't notice Soap coming to her again with a sly smile.

He wrapped his arm around her neck and shook her hair with his hands.

“Hey!” Leah pushed him away laughing and Soap too “What's wrong with you, idiot?”.

“You turned all red, huh?”.

“What are you talking about?”

Soap grabbed her shoulder and stared at her.

“When are you going to tell him you're in love, Leah?” She opened her eyes wider than normal and pushed him away with a single punch to the chest.

"Idiot” he rolled his eyes, "go to work, lazy man."

Soap chuckled.

"Remember to be good to the black-haired girl," she murmured as she walked away, but Leah furrowed her eyebrows at the woman beyond, oh no.

I wasn't going to be very good to her.

John Price was sitting in the chair in front of his desk, his legs spread lengthwise on the table as he crossed his arms over his chest. I needed a few minutes of silence, of rest. Maybe a little Whiskey.

But he woke up to a couple of sounds coming from outside the office, which made him lower his feet from the desk and look out through the glass walls. He could see a group of female soldiers running from one side to the other without rest. John chuckled and stood up with his hands behind his back to look closer out the window.

Leah screamed demandingly, demanding them over and over again that she wouldn't stop. Damn, the woman had a loud voice that was even sweet when she screamed, the expression on her face was enigmatic as she gave orders and saw how she enjoyed making her subordinates suffer.

His chest swelled when he saw her, he felt a pride that he often felt with her. But it was just pride, wasn't it? Her eyebrows slowly furrowed as she watched a random soldier approach her and talk close to her ear, though the expression on Leah's face didn't change as she shook her head, John's hands going hard on her back and without realizing it. He was gritting his teeth and feeling strangely jealous.

It was idiotic.

He turned around and approached his desk, opened the first drawer and took out his bottle of Scotch Whiskey, poured some into the glass tumbler he had on the table and drank it down.

His eyes traveling to the window as he watched Leah shout and give orders.

(...)

When the night comes, Leah is exhausted, Soap invited her to have a drink at the bar with the rest of the team, which she denied, saying that she was too tired to go out in the cold of the night even though she knew that a strong drink was going to warm her body.

One of her friends of the same rank as Sergeant, Darcy, had approached to encourage her to go with the group, but Leah also refused, promising to go out on Friday with the group of girls.

He dragged his feet towards the training field to collect the things he had left on the bench before going to his room when he saw John Price with his feet outside the training field, on the cold, dry ground, looking around at the dark night. Smoke billowed from between his lips as he took a long drag on his cigar.

She swallowed slowly and with great difficulty.

The image of John Price looking out into the dark blue night of the base, smoking a cigar, was disconcerting and beautiful. And for that reason and more, Leah didn't think as she glided up to him, carrying her things in one hand, and approached his side.

“What are you doing here alone, my captain?” she joked, but she turned red. Had she really said to my captain? shit.

John turned to see her with the cigar in his lips.

“Oh, I'm... I don't know, killing time?” He shrugged his shoulders, moving awkwardly on his feet.

"Sure," Leah smiled.

“And you?” John stared at her, for a moment at her lips and then at her eyes as if his thoughts had evaporated.

“Same thing, I think” Leah sighed looking at the dark starless sky, then turned to him and noticed that John's hat was tilted, she raised her hand adjusting it while he stared at her “it was... crooked” she swallowed slowly, being aware of how he was looking at her, but she couldn't stop herself from acting stupid with him.

"Thank you," he murmured hoarsely, expelling the smoke to the other side as he looked at her and noticed her cheeks turning red.

“You are welcome”.

"I guess it looks better now," Price licked his lips unconsciously and that small gesture made Leah's head explode.

"I'm glad," she smiled looking into his eyes, the knot in her belly twisted making her feel dizzy because of the way he was looking at her, it wasn't usual. It was unusual for him to see her like that “Aren't you going to go with the boys to the bar?”.

"Yes, in a while," he replied without taking his eyes off her, "I'm waiting for Gaz. The boy is in love, apparently.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes” Price smoked his cigar again “Aren't you going?”.

Leah swallowed slowly and shook her head firmly.

“I'm exhausted. I need my bed”.

“Hmmm…” Price murmured, nodding “that sounds good”.

Leah felt like everything was spinning around her, she was so hot and the truth is that it was so cold that she didn't understand it. He looked into John Price's greenish eyes one last time and smiled, patting the Captain's arm without crossing the line of allowable trust.

"Have a good night, Captain," he said, turning around.

"Yes, you too... Leah," he whispered hoarsely. His British voice echoing in Leah's mind and ravaging her body.

Her steps felt heavy as she walked away from him, as if the strings of her heart that had been tied to him without permission were pulling tightly. He closed his eyes, pulling them out, but they were cooked tightly.

Several minutes later she was lying on her bed trying to read a book, before that relaxed her and she could clear her mind, but at that moment she couldn't. No matter how much she read and read, her mind went to John and the way he had looked at her.

In the morning, Leah was feeling energetic. He knew he had a lot of work to do because Gaz had sent him a message to tell him that they had to go meet with Laswell to receive information about a mission and study some plans for possible field research, so he showered, dressed in his military uniform and hurried out of his room. Gaz was sending messages to her phone to hurry up, so she walked down the hallway typing with her fingers on the screen, totally distracted and not looking ahead.

John Price came grunting softly down the hall, his eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head and rubbed his forehead. Neither of them saw each other when they collided. John had a coffee in his hands and managed to push it away from her before it spilled on any of them, but Leah collided with his hard chest and almost fell backwards if he hadn't been agile enough to grab her arm and hold her. instead.

Leah's brown eyes met John's in a span of a second in which her mind had no thought other than "Oh shit" which made her slow to react.

“Captain! I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” Leah bent down to pick up her phone that had fallen to the floor at the moment when her hands landed on John's chest, who was wearing the military suit, the green sweatshirt with the half-zip opened, revealing the gray t-shirt underneath.

"It's okay, nothing's wrong," John released her arm, looking at her intently. "Are you okay?" .

“Oh yeah. Now yes," the girl joked as she put the phone in her pants pocket and smiled mischievously. John raised his eyebrows but smiled back, unable to help it. Leah realized that even though he had smiled at her flirting, he seemed angry for some reason and tilted her head “Are you angry about something?”.

“Angry?” John straightened up, softening his expression and stretched his sweatshirt down distractedly “I'm not... I'm angry. Why would I be angry?” he took a sip of coffee, looking at her.

"You look... like you came grumpy," he laughed slowly.

“I always seem grumpy, don't I?” Although John laughed, Leah could still hear the hard tone in his voice and sighed heavily, trying to find the way he made her feel worried.

“Well yes, you're right” she smiled back as they looked into each other's eyes. John sighed a little calmer. What was wrong? Leah had never seen him interact with her like that, like... Did it make him nervous? No, it had to be his imagination.

"I'm usually always in a bad mood." John made a gesture with his hands, grunting to himself with his eyebrows furrowed, and Leah smiled because the gesture was quite cute for someone like him.

John wasn't wearing a hat so he could see his short blonde hair and since he rarely saw it he thought it was quite adorable.

"Captain," she sighed calmly, as she spoke with him every day, as friends, as co-workers, as a sergeant who trusted her boss, "you know that if you want to talk about anything, you can have a cup of coffee with me” she stretched out a hand towards John, removing a couple of invisible lint on his clothes while looking deliberately into his eyes. That was impromptu flirting! She wanted to hit herself “I'm a good listener”.

“And you think a hot cup of coffee will solve my problems?” John mocked ironically, playing with her as he changed his position, crossing his arms over his chest after leaving the coffee on the firebox to the side, he looked at her with one eyebrow over the other waiting for her response.

Leah chuckled as if flirting was a normal thing between them. But it was the first time I became aware of it, apparently because I was so fucking nervous.

“Then with what?” He looked into her eyes-.

“Hmm, with… with a lot of milk… and sugar” John laughed slowly, tilting his head, and Leah, although she turned red, laughed anyway. Fuck, fuck, fuck What was going on? “I don't know Leah, I'm just kidding you. It just so happens that you made me vent a little”.

“Well” she shrugged her shoulders, taking a couple of steps back “I like it when you joke with me, because you look less grumpy, you know?”.

John chuckled again.

“Yeah?” she nodded “And why is that?”

"Sometimes you're funnier than grumpy, I just don't think you've realized." Leah tilted her head thoughtfully, although she was nervous talking to him was so natural... The ropes pulling from her heart towards him made her see his lips a little. little, the way those green eyes looked into hers made the blood rush to her head.

“Oh yeah?” John released his arms and approached with his head bowed slightly towards her “Do you like my jokes?”.

"Maybe," he pouted, feigning disinterest, looking at him as if there was no one around him, as if cadets weren't passing here and there. The magic was as if he were making her float in the air as if with one movement he could reach John Price's lips with the tips of his fingers. Magic that broke when Gaz began desperately calling her on the phone — shit, shit — she said, stepping back “I have to go, I have to go to the CIA with Gaz”.

“Ah, Laswell told me. Good luck with that” John sighed regretfully and turned away.

“See you!” She began to run quickly down the hallway and John stood watching her figure disappear.

"Old fool," he said to himself, shaking his head, continuing on his way, forgetting the coffee on the firebox.

His mind was filled with full lips and brown eyes the entire rest of the day and, also, the lonely night.

Chapter 2.

A FEW DAYS LATER, Leah had been kept busy gathering information with Gaz about some missiles they needed to find, if they found the location soon, they would be planning a ground mission before the first snow of December fell, which in theory was, well.

He had kept minimal contact with John since the day of their hallway collision. Enough to make flirtatious jokes of three or four sentences before going their separate ways.

That specific day, neither she nor the group had much to do. It was Friday and almost the entire base was relaxing for the weekend, some were returning home and those who stayed were hanging around the base doing anything from training to playing poker in the dining room.

“Hey, Leah” Soap finished his breakfast while Ghost typed on his phone without taking his eyes off the screen. She was still on her phone, texting her mom that she probably wasn't going to be there for Christmas. Not if they collected the information necessary to execute the mission.

“Hmm?”.

“Let's bet something” Gaz approached them with his tray in hand and sat next to Leah watching her frown as she responded to the message “Yes?”.

“Hmmm” Leah sighed and turned off the cell phone screen, annoyed with her mother and left the phone on the table to look at Soap”.

"Soap wants to be humiliated," Ghost muttered, typing on his phone.

“And who the hell are you talking to by the way?” Soap leaned in to look but Ghost pushed him away with one hand covering his entire face”.

"With your mom," Ghost answered, making Leah and Gaz laugh.

“How funny” Soap closed his eyes and turned to Leah “as he said, let's bet” he looked at her with that evil expression that Soap had when he was behaving like a kid.

“You want to bet... With me?”. She rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hand.

“At the shooting range, if I hit the doll in the middle of the forehead with the Scar-H you will ask the captain for a date” Gaz almost spit out his coffee and Ghost looked away from the phone, becoming interested in the conversation.

“If not?”.

“And if you don't” Ghost imitated his position on the table, “I'll let you embarrass me in the middle of the training field”.

Leah raised an eyebrow and looked at Gaz who nodded encouragingly. But she looked at Soap again.

“Why would I want a date with Price?”.

"You and I know why," Soap murmured.

"No, no," he denied, "not that. Let's bet something else, do you want?”.

Ghost put the phone away and looked at them expectantly. Gaz leaned forward to hear clearly.

“If you win I make Holly come and leave you breakfast every day” she raised an eyebrow”.

“Is her name Holly?” Soap snorted excitedly “But how would you make it...?”

“I have my tricks” she shrugged her shoulders “but if I win, you will clean the team uniform for a month”.

"A month is too short a time," Ghost murmured.

"Yes, make it a year," Gaz encouraged.

Soap scowled at them.

"Okay, okay... one year," he downplayed, "I'll win anyway."

Leah looked at Ghost and smiled, she could imagine her friend smiling under the balaclava.

“So it's a bet?” Soap stretched out his hand.

Leah thought about it for a few moments, but they always bet idiotic things anyway. Now that he wanted to bet on something that involved John it was a dirty game to expose her, but she wasn't going to let him do it. He was his friend and he loved him, but sometimes he didn't know how to stay silent.

(...)

John was breathing deeply against his office desk. His hand covered almost his entire forehead as he rubbed it, trying to lessen the headache when Gaz came in, opening the door as if they were chasing him.

“What's happening?” he asked, alarmed.

"Leah, Soap, shooting range sir, now," John raised his eyebrows and chuckled, dragging his chair back to stand up.

“When is the day that Soap gives up?” he snorted, following Gaz calmly “he will never be able to beat him. What are they shooting with this time?” John tried not to sound so interested, but Gaz was as close a friend to Leah as he was to John, he knew them and he didn't have to ask to know that there was a genuine attraction between them.

"With a Scar-H," he exclaimed, pushing the door towards the gym and the shooting range that opened up around them both.

The first thing John saw was a bunch of female and male soldiers huddled on the edge of the firing range trying to get a good view. He made his way without difficulty since upon seeing him the soldiers automatically moved aside and he took a position right in front, crossing his arms over his chest.

She had her gear on, her gun in her hands, shooting straight at the target. Ghost walked up to John and Price's side.

“How many do you have?” John asked Ghost.

"Six out of three," he said as if he were laughing.

"Damn," John scoffed, "Does Soap have a fetish for being humiliated?" .

The three of them laughed.

"I think so," Ghost also crossed his arms and the three watched Soap shoot, nowhere near the target.

Murmurs of mockery and others of laughter were heard. John was holding back his laughter, because his eyes fixed on Leah in the distance. She turned to load the gun and her brown eyes met his, but she looked away in concentration and John felt his chest tighten.

He breathed as if he had been in the water for an eternity and had come to the surface.

Leah beat Soap by far and John smiled in satisfaction, she never let her down on those things. It was amazing how she was able to concentrate and be strict.

As everyone dispersed she approached her group, Soap shook his head in resignation.

"A year then," he murmured, looking at her.

“A year, but forget it. Not my clothes. Only the boys'” She left her equipment on the table, took off her vest and disassembled the Scar, leaving it on the table running her fingers over it as if she were caressing it. John's eyes fixed on her.

"Good job, Leah," he said and clearing his throat, he looked at Soap. "You disappoint me, Soap. Don't you get bored of losing to a woman like her?"

"Hope is the last thing you lose, Captain," Soap murmured and looked at Leah who was taking off her gloves and talking about tactical things with Ghost.

"Yes," John murmured thoughtfully, following Soap's gaze at Leah. Did Soap like the girl? Or were they just friends? He crossed his arms trying to appear oblivious to that feeling in his heart.

"Will you join us at the bar, sir?" Gaz made him come out of the trance by squeezing his shoulder, he looked at him distracted.

“Ah yeah sure”.

“Hey, Angel of Death” Gaz yelled at Leah “Are you coming with us to the bar?”.

"I don't think so, I mean... I'll go, but I promised my friends to go with them." Leah shook her hands, looking at John out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you going to introduce us to your friends someday Leah?” Soap murmured, playing with a knife.

“Can you stop thinking with your cock once in your life Johnny?” Ghost growled at him and then the masked man looked at Leah “Your friend the sergeant?”.

"Yep, my friend the other sergeant," she laughed, "I'll give her your regards, Simon."

Ghost stayed silent and Soap started bothering him.

"See you around," she glided away after looking at John and smiling sideways.

He looked at her butt for the first time with different eyes.

He had known her for a few years, she was charming since he saw her. But he always saw her in a professional manner because she always looked quite professional. John didn't know what had changed but an animal instinct was flowing through him. One I haven't felt in a long, long time.

“Come on, Cap?” Gaz patted his chest and looked at him with a mocking smile, John followed him with furrowed eyebrows.

"What a look that is on your face, boy," he barely asked, as he took out a cigar and lit it in his lips as he walked out of the base.

“Not even one. I haven't even looked at it”.

"Hmm," he growled silently, drawing the cigarette smoke into his old lungs and then throwing it out. "You and Leah are very close, right?"

“We are friends, sir. She's like my little sister," he shrugged his shoulders.

“So do you know if he's dating anyone?” Gaz looked at him as they left the parking lot, the bar was two blocks from the base so they basically left there and did it on foot.

"He's not dating anyone, as far as I know," he smiled at him. "Why, sir? If I can ask”.

John denied.

"Curiosity," he murmured, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "tell me boy, how are things going with your girl?" .

Gaz smiled widely.

"Excellent sir, I will see you tomorrow."

"I'm happy Gaz, I'm happy for you."

Gaz smiled and John continued walking beside him, Leah's voice lingering in his head.

(...)

A song by The Cranberries was playing on the jukebox as Leah was laughing with her friends about what one of them had heard from a soldier the other day. His beer bottle was between his fingers as he listened to one of them attentively, but the truth was that his eyes darted from time to time to the men sitting beyond the door.

Ghost, Soap, Gaz and John were sitting at a small table, mostly listening to Soap's stories half drunk because he was almost screaming laughing.

But Leia saw John from time to time, sitting in the chair with one arm on his stomach and the other on the table, holding a glass of Scotch Whiskey.

John looked at her for a moment and just for a moment she smiled at him in greeting. However, a short time later John was already on his sixth glass of Whiskey. But he wasn't like Soap, he didn't catch fire with water and even if he drank a whole bottle of Whiskey alone, he knew how to maintain his sanity unless he didn't want it himself.

Years of experience. And he knew it.

“Is everything okay Cap?” Gaz squeezed his shoulder, drawing his slightly distracted attention to Leah, her dark jeans, her leather jacket, that black scarf around her neck, and her hair that sometimes looked half red loose on her shoulders gives her such a different look. to see her inside the military suit.

“I was just...thinking” John raised his glass of Whiskey to his lips, his eyes lingering on Leah going to places he preferred not to go.

Leah looked back at them again, noticing John's lost, wistful gaze somewhere on the floor as he drank his Whiskey.

"We're leaving," Darcy shook her arm. "Are you coming with us?" Leah looked at her friend and then at the boys' table, it was the fourth time that Soap called her by extending his hands, this time it was Gaz who joined him and Leah couldn't help but laugh as she turned to her friend.

“Do not go. I'll stay with the boys for a while” her friend smiled and said goodbye to her.

Once she was alone, Leah slid over to the table where they were, Gaz pulled out a chair for her with a double intent right next to John Price.

“Angel, Angel” Soap babbles “two against three, two against three” she turned her attention to her drunk friend and furrowed her eyebrows without realizing that John was looking at her with almost childlike amazement. Almost as if there was nothing else in the world I should be doing at that very moment.

“What thing?”.

“Beer or tequila” Gaz dropped his glass of tequila on the table looking at her dramatically and she laughed.

“I prefer beer, tequila gives me problems” he leaned against the back of the chair and crossed his arms, laughing while Gaz grabbed Soap by the arm with an exaggerated I TOLD YOU SO, SON OF A BITCH. And he sat down again.

John had that shocked expression that he couldn't get rid of, but it was that very thing that didn't let him say anything. Maybe because he was too drunk to say any coherent words or just because he was lost in thought, remembering the first time she arrived, those years ago, where he himself had gotten angry at Laswell for sending him a spy and she was the one who left him. with his mouth open. He had trusted her enough to include her in the 1-4-1 forever. And he never thought of including a woman in that.

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he knew it not just because he was a little drunk. He always knew it, he just felt too ridiculous to admit it.

As she talked and laughed with the boys Leah looked at Price with a smile. He cleared his throat and leaned close to her ear without any intention of making it seem sexual to ask her if she wanted another beer and that he invited her. Leah nodded, feigning concentration on the story of Ghost, the one who talked a lot more when he drank too much.

John stood up like a rock and went to get Leah's beer and sat next to her, accidentally brushing his knee against hers. He handed her the beer and she received it, brushing her fingers as she took it.

Unintentionally.

A few minutes later, Leah's stomach hurt from laughing and she probably would have stayed longer if she hadn't seen the time.

"Well, it was fun but I have to go now." Leah took her bottle and drank the last of it. John watched her distractedly as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and licked his own lips as if he were the one licking her. She looked at him “good night”.

He looked away at the bottom of his empty whiskey glass and shook his head as if out of inertia.

“Good night”.

Leah swallowed hard, it was hard for her to smile but she did it anyway, getting up and grabbing her jacket to go out into the cold. It was still August, but it was honestly very cold.

John watched her leave, his eyes following the shape of her body, the sound of her footsteps as she walked away, feeling as if an enormous weight was looming on his shoulders. He got up to the bar and ordered another drink.

Although Gaz's steps were slow due to the alcohol, he managed to crawl towards the bar and lean on it looking at the Captain.

“That?” John asked with a frown as he swirled the ice in the now refilled whiskey glass.

"I didn't say anything," Gaz took off his Jockey and shook his short hair.

"But you want to do it."

“And I can?”.

"Son of a bitch," John laughed, taking a sip of Whiskey, Gaz rested his forearms on the bar and asked for another Whiskey to accompany John, "say it."

“Are you seriously going to stay here watching her leave instead of going after her?”.

John sighed heavily as he turned to Gaz, weighing his thoughts, tasting the Whiskey on his tongue. He looked over his shoulder at the bar door, she should be arriving at the base then.

"Yes," and he took another sip, licking his lips, "seriously." Gaz shook his head and smiled as he drank with him in silence.

(...)

In her room, Leah tried to fall asleep. Thanks to the alcohol it became easier, but she kept feeling that her body was tingling in the areas where John Price had accidentally touched her at the bar. A movement of the knees, an elbow, the fingers when giving him the beer. The warm, lost look, full of nostalgia.

I couldn't help but feel a lump in my throat. She also didn't have to be a fortune teller to know, after several years working at his side, that the man was broken in some way. And that perhaps it was no longer time to be a spectator in his eyes, Leah took a breath before closing her eyes, promising herself to start giving John signs about her feelings. About how much she wants to... take care of him.

Chapter 3

-And now! — Leah raised her hand and the recruits ran away in a hurry. She looked at the stopwatch and when it reached one minute she raised her hand — Stop! Mason, Willis, Levson and Collen, you can go! The rest of us run for half an hour! —.

Between frustrated sighs, those who did not win began to run making their last effort.

—No mercy Bravo-7? — Darcy, her friend nudged her, appearing at her side —.

Leah rolled her eyes.

-Do not call me that way -.

"Isn't that what he calls you?" — Darcy surreptitiously moved his head towards Price's office that could be seen from where they were. Leah could see him waving his hands while talking on the phone, apparently a little irritated.

In the last few days I had not seen him or spoken to him. In the mornings she trained her group and in the afternoon she had meetings with Gaz and Laswell about the missiles.

Ghost and Soap had gone to Mexico to help Alejandro with some drug dealing stuff, so they weren't there.

"It was a joke and unfortunately it stayed that way." Leah shrugged her shoulders, watching the recruits run.

"Well, they say that you're strict just like him and if you don't believe it, ask your girls."

—I'm not strict. I just… want to do things right —.

"I know," Darcy patted him on the cheek, "and you're doing it right."

She says goodbye to her friend and follows her with her gaze, gradually focusing on John a little further away. He stands with his hands in his pants pockets looking at her. He raises a hand to greet her and Leah does the same, feeling so awkward that she He stops breathing and looks away, frowning.

Shit.

The rest of the day is dedicated to routine things, meetings with Gaz, gathering information. Calls with Laswell, etc. By nightfall, Leah decides to go for a run around the training field, when no one is around. So she puts on her headphones and starts running in a hurry, a song playing as she runs around the court without stopping. Barely looking around, she doesn't notice that John is standing outside his office, which is right in the corner of the court, leaning against the wall, allowing himself to light a cigarette as he looks at her.

About an hour in, Leah stops panting, hands on her knees, body bent over. John runs his eyes over her body, clad in those exercise leggings, sweat running down her white skin as he finishes his second cigarette. She turns around and is scared when she sees him.

"Shit," he exclaims, taking off his headphones, "since when have you been there?" —he laughs, approaching with labored breathing—.

"Just a few minutes ago," he lies thoughtfully, "You keep running when you get stressed, huh?" —.

Oh, he knew it.

Every time Leah ran around the court it was because something was making her self-conscious, but saying it out loud made him feel betrayed in some way, like he had missed that there were many things about her that he knew and liked.

"Yes," she answers, raising an eyebrow, wondering how he knows that, but she smiles. She grabs the water bottle from her bag and drinks a little — And you can't sleep? —.

—The more tired I am, the less I want to sleep—he shrugs his shoulders, blowing the cigarette smoke away and throwing the butt on the floor when he steps on it, he steps aside to let her pass through the doors and continues walking beside her— Is Laswell stressing you out? —.

—She's stressed, Shepherd is a pain in the ass, that's all—Leah snorts—She hasn't told you? —.

—About the missiles? Yes, but we can't do anything until they give us permission, fucking bureaucrats — John denies as he walks with his hands in his pants pockets —.

—At least we have enough information, we know where they may be. You just have to wait.

—While we wait, horrible things can happen —.

—I know—Leah looks ahead, the hallway of the rooms divides in two, John's room is on the opposite side from hers—Gaz and I are working on it, tomorrow I have to go to Laswell, I'll let you know. of the preview in the afternoon. Is it okay? —.

—Yes—John nods, trying to feel his cigarette awkwardly between his pockets—yes.

"Good night, John."

"Good night, Leah," she smiled slowly and turned to head to her room.

Another night sleeping with my heart in my hand.

(…)

The next morning John Price remains engrossed in briefings with Gaz. The day passes slowly and boringly, as they discuss what their course of action would be if Laswell gave them the upper hand.

He has a cigar in his mouth while his feet are up on his desk and Gaz looks things up on the computer in front of him.

—Hey Gaz—He murmurs, fuming to the side—I don't think I've ever asked you this, but have you always worked with Leah before I recruited you and took you out of the CIA?

—Yes sir, we joined the same platoon, then she met Laswell and started working for her until Laswell sent her to work with us —.

—But she still works for Laswell, right? —.

-I think so? — Gaz looks away from the computer to look at the Captain's thoughtful expression as he smokes his cigar lying on the chair — Why? —.

-Curiosity -.

He clears his throat slightly, it's not like he suspects her of being a spy. John knew from the moment Laswell sent her with them years ago that she was someone who could be trusted. She tried everything there was to try in Urzikistan, she almost stayed with Farrah and Alex and she knew it from the moment the two women met and instantly liked each other.

As if he had her on his own radar, John sees a faint shadow moving across his vision past Gaz. His eyes move quickly to find Leah walking across the meeting room to the door of his office. She smiles as she texts something on her phone and there's something about that smile and those eyes that makes John feel his blood rush to his feet.

Before he can think, John is on his feet walking towards the meeting room. Gaz sees him smiling but doesn't say anything and lets him go.

—Hey—John opens the door from his office to the meeting room and the girl looks up from the phone—good night—she smiles.

—John—she turns off the phone and puts it in the back pocket of her black pants, takes out the folder under her arm and extends it—good night—she laughs—I have this for you—.

—Mmm, more damn paperwork? — he takes the cigar out of his mouth as the door closes behind him and puts it out in the ashtray on the conference table. He looks at her and looks slightly distracted, John observes her figure surreptitiously, his eyes a little tired. But he feels like a slow burn… a feeling he can't stop feeling… a consciousness growing inside him.

—Information about Paris—.

John looks at the folder and raises his eyebrows.

—Paris huh? Gaz told me -.

—Yes, we weren't sure. Now — she looks over John's shoulder and sees Gaz working on the computer in John's office on the other side — Working so late? —.

“Working hard,” he whispers, his voice a little hoarse. She doesn't know what to say suddenly, the words feel like they're on a page, she feels that somehow her back is sweating as if she were burning and he was too close to her. Leah approaches his side, touching her body to his side, she moves the pages of the report pointing things out and talking, but he is looking at her like a fool without listening to her or understanding her.

"Read it," she whispers, closing the folder next to her but it stays there, "and tell me how it is." She sighs, her arm brushing against John's, barely touching each other for just a second.

But it's enough to set John on fire.

"Mmm, I'll do it," he murmurs and she pulls away with a gentle smile.

—If everything goes well… Tomorrow we will probably have permission to go investigate — she sighs, looking into his opaque blue eyes, which shine unusually for her that night. John moves a hand and puts it on the girl's back as he looks at her.

“You did well,” he nods slowly, as if he were closely controlling his movements.

Leah blushes as she looks into his eyes, her throat tightens and suddenly it's cold in the room, her hands feel cold and her body feels shaky. Move back by inertia.

—I have to… go — he points back — you… you tell Gaz, yes?

John can't even move, he watches her leave. His eyes on her figure as he disappears through the other door and down the hallway. His body feels empty, suddenly. Trying to find something to touch. He swallows hard and looks at the folder in his other hand but it's just forgotten paper in his hands. His mind is filled with it and he can't… breathe for several seconds. A subtle but dangerous attraction fills him completely, a flame fluttering in his chest.

Gaz's touch through the door window snaps him out of his trance and he turns to him.

-All good? — but there is mischief in the boy's look and John… just laughs, shaking his head. He opens the door and hands her the folder.

"Looks like she's doing all the work for us kid," he murmurs, shuffling his steps back to his desk.

In the middle of the night later, John is sitting at the desk in his room, his glass of whiskey half empty on the table. His shirt is open revealing his chest. He drinks a little while staring at the laptop screen and looking at Leah's report on the side. His expression is calm but the veins in his neck seem to pulse against his skin. His fingers slide over the keyboard as he sighs.

He exhales as he drinks another bit of Whiskey. The alcohol begins to take its toll on him at that time of night but his expression remains neutral. His eyes dart from the screen to Lea's report almost with a longing that makes him feel anxious. He drinks a little more and a little more and rubs his forehead with his fingertips as he exhales again.

He sinks into the seat with a sigh, memories filling him, tormenting him again. He fills his glass immersed in bitterness. His breathing is long and slow as he drinks. He hears the ice crack as it melts and his eyes go to the window. The world looks so still, as if it were a painting. He scratches between his eyebrows and leaves the glass on the table, his phone vibrates next to the laptop with messages. Several are from Laswell and Gaz, even from Soap with some shitty jokes that I could probably read later.

But his heart stops when he looks at Leah C.'s Name on his screen.

"Did you read the reports?"

His breath stays in his throat, he takes the glass of Whiskey and drinks in silence while grunting under his breath.

"In my room in ten minutes," he responds, taking another drink.

He knows he's lost, that the alcohol has already taken all of him at that moment, but he can't stop.

Chapter 4

His breath catches in his throat as he shuffles down the hallway. Do the footsteps sound louder? Is she being too loud? A soldier quickly passes by on the right and salutes her as usual. Leah is not breathing and presses her back to the wall with her head too. Eyes closed as he tries to calm down. When he opens them he looks around, the long hallway stretches to the end and keeps turning but Captain John Price's room is just four doors down from where he is.

Fuck, fuck.

Take another breath.

It's just work, damn it.

Another breath and he moves his feet again, one in front of the other as if he had more than 30 pounds on each thigh. This feels worse than running uphill on a rainy night while trying to save yourself. The thought makes her smile as she reaches the door with the name "Captain Price" in gold letters.

She knocks on the wood of the door twice. He's not breathing but he's there, risking everything. Never, in all the years has she been there, standing at John Price's door waiting for him to open or… whatever.

-It's open! Happens! — The scream sounds like the ones he makes when he yells at new cadets or like a boisterous laugh while talking about something with Gaz.

Leah frowns and turns the doorknob, opening it slowly.

The room is dark except for the laptop screen on the small desk at the foot of the bed.

"Come in, come in," she hears him say. Leah takes a while to adjust her eyes to the darkness and seeing him, there, sunk in the seat in front of the desk. His figure is drawn as a shadow by the light in front of his face on the screen.

She moves forward after closing the door and approaches the edge of the table, trying to maintain a professional expression. But the fight is terrible within his heart. Because she has rarely seen John in a deplorable state like the one she sees him in now, which makes her feel like hugging him, sitting on his lap and holding him until his tense body relaxes and she puts her hands on his back, surrendering. to the need to love affection.

“Sit down,” he murmurs. Her eyes are on the screen and in her hands a glass of Whiskey that Leah smells, it's Scotch. But she doesn't stay looking at the glass but at the image of him, leaning against the back of the chair, with his shirt open and his chest exposed.

Even through the light of the screen that seems to illuminate nothing, Leah can see some scars on his enormous pecs and some beautiful ones in the middle that disappear as they go down.

He follows his sane instincts as much as he can and grabs a chair he sees out of the corner of his eye dragging it next to the desk next to John.

She looks at her report next to John's laptop and then looks back into his eyes, finding John's blue eyes on her.

—So—she clears her throat in a useless attempt to calm down and tries her best not to lower her eyes from John's and see his hard… and broad chest—You read the report.

—I read it, very useful — John takes a sip of Whiskey while looking at her — but I assume you knew that… — John swallows as he removes the glass from his lips and licks them as if he didn't want to waste a single drop of the Whiskey. He almost wants to smile at the sight of Leah's cheeks so red with the blood on her face, as if she were writhing under the weight of his gaze, fighting for something inside.

—Assume what? —She rests one arm on the table taking the report, just to have something to do while he looks at her like that—.

—Do you want me to say it? — Leah looks at him and he tilts his head as he continues to look at her, his eyes fluttering over her in a back-and-forth that makes her feel dizzy.

Leah snorts.

—Okay, that's wrong. Which is strange for a woman who worked at the CIA during her first years of service, right? I should know more how… Damn, I'm good at shooting from a distance, I hit the target and I can take down Ghost who is stronger than me but… — she scratches her forehead, pressing her fingers between her eyebrows — I hate making reports, I think Which is why I was so happy to be here when Laswell sent me.

"I don't…" John looks a little bewildered and watches her take the glass from him and take a sip while looking into his eyes.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," Leah swallows, feeling the bitter taste on her tongue and in her throat. The way he wrinkles his forehead and nose makes John want to cuddle him.

"You don't disappoint me," he murmurs, smiling. However, his expression hardens as soon as he clears his throat. He feels a small voice in the back of his head, the words soft and quiet, a whisper of air like a warning. He lets out a breath and drinks some Whiskey again, taking the glass from Leah, looking at her computer screen. “You did well,” he murmurs. “We just can't do much with all this information if we can't act.” John says. He rubs his forehead with his fingertips — damn bureaucrats, sons of bitches —.

Leah smiles, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand.

"I'm sorry, as much as Laswell loves me, I can't make her twist her arm for this," he sighs, "we have to wait."

John looks at her.

“Mmm,” he grunts, rolling his eyes back to the screen.

—Well then, is that why you called me or why did you accept the conversation? — She leans a little over the table trying to meet his gaze — Has the curmudgeon decided to talk about what's bothering him? —.

John looks at her with a tense jaw.

"There's a storm brewing, Leah," he growls, breathing heavily through his nose. His eyes fluttering between yours and your lips. He leans toward her and Leah screams as John slides his chair closer to him. His expression is dark, but as if tenderness is struggling to get through. His eyes roam over Leah's lips, her loose blonde hair over her shoulders, her neck. He takes another whiff of Whiskey as he looks at her.

"You're grumpier when you drink," Leah murmurs without thinking, his small action of pulling her closer in the chair has gotten her on edge, she no longer has time to think about what is right or wrong. She just wants him to kiss her and she knows she's going to let him do it.

—And you like that? — John leaves the glass on the table while not taking his blue eyes off Leah's brown ones. The light from the computer screen captures Leah's silhouette against the wall and his. He looks at her hungrily even in the middle of his drunkenness and can see her cheeks getting redder and redder.

"No," she murmurs, looking at John's lips as she swallows slowly, takes a deep breath and willpower to look at the computer screen again. "What are you working on?" —he breathes deeply, feeling John's breath on his neck. He's not completely inclined but the heat of his body burns her in leaps and bounds as he keeps his eyes on the screen.

—Laswell sent me some things, information. The same thing you did -.

-But better -.

—No, not better —he murmurs —Shepherd sent information too. Did you read the memo? —.

—Mmm — Leah reads the screen — pure shit —.

John laughs in a low, hoarse voice.

"Yes, pure shit," he murmurs, looking at her profile, he can almost feel her trying to stay still in her seat, her hands itching to put it on his wide, meaty, soft thighs. Her mouth is dry and she is not ashamed of the way he is looking at her, desire burning in every pore of her skin.

—Is that why you're in a bad mood? —she asks, this time turning her face to find John Price's closer than normal—.

—Maybe—he feels the heat of her breath, the heat of her body enough to drive him crazy.

-Because? — It's like a random question, as if it were just to say something in the middle of the tortuous silence between the two of them —.

"You said it, it's bullshit." John snorts through his nose and leans back against the back of the chair, his arm going behind Lea's back, she sees his hand out of the corner of her eye. He doesn't touch it but it is there, leaning on the back of his chair.

Leah frowns at the screen and leans forward. His hair falls on his chest at the movement and he clicks on several pages, John sees his legs crossed in those dark jeans, his elbow on his legs, his chin on the palm of his hand as he clicks and looks at the screen.

Suddenly Leah looks at him and her gaze makes him feel a little dizzy.

—It's bullshit—he shrugs his shoulders—I'm crossing my fingers that Laswell gives us the go-ahead tomorrow.

—You want some action, don't you? — he chuckles — the emotion, mmm…

-You do not? —she raises an eyebrow in his direction—you've been stuck among piles of shitty papers for months.

—Maybe—his mouth is dry, his body on fire from the heat of Leah's body. It's burning because of him. His thoughts lead him to see her lips again, imagining what it would be like to touch her, every part of her sweet body. He feels his breath catch in his throat when he looks into her eyes again. His breath warm and trembling as he barely breathes.

Lea smiles but doesn't know what else to say, it's as if the words float in the air and she can't grab them to make them sound through her lips. John puts the glass of whiskey on the table and lets his hand fall to her legs, to Leah's legs, without touching. He just slides them until he grabs her thin fingers.

—You have such pretty lips… — he smiles ironically — Don't you feel like kissing me? — His teeth shine white and his voice is a hum of breaths that come in short bursts. His eyes are locked on her lips, locked on her eyes that remind him of the chocolates he always sees when passing by the cafeteria at London Central Station, mmm yes, maybe he'll buy some for her another day. "Like you say?" that saying…?

"He who doesn't risk doesn't cross the river," she whispers breathlessly, focused on John's fingers playing with hers, her body burning for him.

—Exactly—John smiles slyly and leans forward, taking a risk. Her hand closes around Leah's fingers and she closes her eyes.

Feel the heat of his lips, the distance no longer exists. Relief floods his soul, as if Leah's lips were a balm that makes him feel missed. Her hand slides up her arm until it reaches her shoulder, soft, tender caresses as Leah's lips move over hers, sweet, soft, slow.

He moves his lips over hers again and again, slowly. His hand goes up to touch her hair, caressing it as if it were porcelain. His fingers between the blonde strands of her hair and he holds her there. Her breath warms her lips as she feels Leah's hands on the hard muscles of her arms as if she's afraid to touch further.

She is the first to part their lips and he doesn't stop her. John lets his hand fall from her hair and her arms as he listens to the wild beating of her heart, her short breathing as he looks into her eyes.

Leah looks at him for a few seconds before standing up calmly, her fingers touching her lips as she looks at him, fixated on him as he steps back and John doesn't stop her from leaving. He sees her go towards the door and disappear after closing it.

John stays in the chair, his eyes filled with a desire and a feeling that swirls in his burning chest, his hand hitting his ribcage and rubbing as if it can calm what he feels inside. He reaches forward for the glass of Whiskey and sips as he tries to cool his head for a moment, but he still feels Leah's lips on his, he can almost taste her.

Damn all this time he was ignoring those sweet lips…

Chapter 5:

—Yes, yes — Leah had the phone pressed to her ear with her arm while she finished adjusting her military boots on the bed — Thanks Kate, I'll go tell them right now —.

He hangs up and finishes tying his boots, grabs his dark green jacket and quickly puts it on to go out. He rushes to John's office but when he arrives he only sees Gaz sitting in the chair half asleep.

—And John? —he asks holding the door open. Gaz scratches his eyes, looking at her sleepily.

"I thought you were going to know," he shrugged his shoulders mockingly and she just looked at him witheringly. "I wasn't with you?" —.

—No—he sighs—Ghost and Soap? —.

"They just arrived, they're coming here."

Leah nods and heads back the way she came, shuffling across the floor toward John's room, knocking twice before checking to see if the handle is open. She swallows slowly as she remembers what had happened last night, the way he looked at her, his lips. His touch… His body shudders but he still opens the door slowly and peeks out carefully.

John comes out of the bathroom adjusting the watch on his wrist. He is wearing his military suit and his hat is resting on the bed. When he sees her, his eyebrows rise slightly.

—Leah—.

—Sorry, I knocked but…

-Do not worry It's OK. Come in—he circles the bed and walks over to her slowly, Leah shrinks as his large body approaches her as the sensations of the previous night overwhelm her—Is everything okay? —.

Don't you remember that I kissed you?

-If everything is fine. Very well indeed - she takes a breath trying to keep her eyes on John's - Laswell called, everything is ready to go to Paris, it's a forest far from the city, a warehouse that may be guarded by Hadid's men, but … —.

John's eyes stay on her, on her body and the way he tries to control her. She can feel her pulse beating faster and her mouth slowly drying out.

-Yeah? —.

"I need you to handle this John," she clears her throat, "and give the order to leave."

—Sure—his eyes land on hers and she can feel the heat of his gaze. He steps close to her and touches her hand, gripping her fingers just like he did the night before, caressing her fingers as if he's afraid they'll break. She can feel her body turning on little by little. "You're doing it well," she murmurs, getting closer, her other hand rests on Leah's waist while she looks at her from above. "This thing about… organizing things."

—John… —she is blushing, but fighting with herself—.

—Hmm? — John runs his hand up her arm, his fingers on her neck moving up to her chin. She narrows her eyes as she feels the touch of his calloused hands on her face.

—Everything is ready, Gaz must be preparing the Helicopter, we have to… go —.

—And aren't we going to talk about the kiss you gave me last night? —His voice is hoarse and his breath warms his lips. Her brown eyes look at him with adoration.

John's fingers brush his cheek.

—John…

He looks down at her lips and kisses her slowly. His hand holds his face with no intention of wanting to end it. Leah's heart beats hard against her chest, she hesitates as if she were going to back away but John puts his arm around her, holding her against his body and kisses her for a long time, savoring her as if he were holding back the desire to devour her. He feels his body burn as he brushes his teeth with his tongue asking her to go further.

Leah moans against his mouth as her hands grip the fabric of his military clothing, crumpling the fabric as if the life depended on it.

For a moment she lets him intensify the kiss and her thoughts become clouded as their tongues dance with each other, she feels it and knows she needs it. However, he pulls away, gasping for air. His hands are spread over his chest pushing back slightly.

—Mmm—John looks at Leah's lips slightly swollen from his kisses, his fingers caress her lower lip slowly, his arm around her is hard and he has no intention of letting her go. His eyes move to yours, his breathing is labored, his lips parted.

He wants her again.

He turns her in a single movement, carefully placing her against the wall, leans down, brushing his lips with hers but doesn't get closer.

“We have to go,” Leah gasps. “…

"Mmm…" he grunts as she feels through the palm of her hands how his hard chest rises and falls.

With a lot of willpower, John lets her go. Releasing little by little with a lot of pain. He watches her regain her composure while he still doesn't want to deal with his emotions.

"Okay," Leah clears her throat and heads toward the door, but looks at him before opening it.

"We'll talk about this later," John tells her with a neutral expression, approaching her.

—Yes—Leah opens the door before he grabs it again and as she walks in front of him she smiles like a fool.

As John walks behind her, his hungry eyes admire her figure. Her curves, the way she falls into those tight jeans. He shakes his head, running his hand over his face. Leah is one of the few women in there who doesn't wear a lot of military clothing, maybe because she's not quite a soldier, because she's also CIA. But John loves seeing her in those half-tight jeans.

The only thing he thinks about when he goes after her is to hold her against a wall again and kiss her. But he swallows and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Upon arriving at the hangar, they meet Gaz, Ghost and Soap and Alejandro.

The latter looks at Leah with surprise and John notices how Leah opens her eyes as if she had seen a ghost.

"Leah?" — Alejandro passes by Ghost and approaches with a smile —.

-Alexander! — Leah runs towards him hugging him by the neck. John stands still next to Gaz watching the scene with his jaw clenched — What…? — Leah hangs on his neck — How…? —.

—Ah, the boys mentioned that they needed help so — Alejandro shrugged his shoulders as she looked him in the face — Not annoying, right, Cap? — Alejandro tilted his head to look at Price —.

—Of course not — Stoick responds — I suppose you're aware — John Price looks away from them and Leah gets off Alejandro's neck without realizing that John is jealous, of course, because he hides it very well while giving him his back and puts on his military equipment in one go.

—Of course, of course — Ghost approaches Alejandro and Soap and they prepare everything to get on the helicopter. Leah, smiling, approaches the table to take her outfit and put it on, however it takes a little work for her to find the bodices to adjust it on her hips.

John turns and watches her struggle against the straps and approaches silently. He grabs her hips and puts his arms around her as she freezes, with one tug he adjusts the straps and she's almost out of breath.

—Is it like this or is it too tight, Miss Carlsen? —he whispers hoarsely, leaning towards her ear—.

"Very… tight," she murmurs and hears him growl, a low, rough growl that vibrates in his throat as she loosens the straps a little. Leah takes a breath, turning to him with a frown. “What's wrong?” —.

John looks at her without saying anything, takes his weapons and puts on his hat almost without blinking. He quietly turns to the helicopter while everyone is there.

When she gets to the helicopter, Gaz helps her get on and Leah slides inside, sitting next to the window next to Alejandro. He leans towards her, almost shouting over the noise of the rotors and propellers.

—I'm glad to see you little one! —she exclaims, John hears through the headphones and stares at them as he sits in front of her. Leah looks at Alejandro with a smile.

-Me too! — She smiles and her gaze goes forward, John is squeezed by the window in front of her, Gaz and Soap are at her side.

He stares at her like he's making fun of something.

-Moved? —she sees him raise an eyebrow—.

"Very much." His face tenses under the weight of his gaze, as if they were playing tag.

The helicopter rises, the base is just a point in the middle of nowhere from above. Leah looks back at him, John has his head against the back wall, eyes closed and hands on his legs.

Leah shivers helplessly and looks out the window, biting her lip as if that will help calm her mind or her thoughts that move and stir around her.

At other times he would be the type to just keep his mind focused on working on what should really matter, but right now he's trying hard not to grab Alejandro and pull him away from Leah to take his place, put his hand on her. her thigh and growl in Alejandro's direction so he knows she is his.

The thought makes him laugh at how ridiculous it looks and he opens his eyes, seeing her as a hard hit to his balls. She looks out the window down, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail as she holds the gun firmly in her hands.

Let his eyes caress your body surreptitiously and your mind be filled with fantasies. How did he let everything spill out of nowhere? The way he felt about her was like she had exploded through the door.

The trip lasts a long time and although John fights not to fall asleep, he does. When he wakes up he sees Leah leaning against Alejandro's shoulder, sleeping. He opens his lips as if to shout at her but his voice gets stuck in his throat and Gaz nudges him.

"We're getting there," he looks at him half-disoriented and nods, swallowing slowly as he holds his gun in his hands and breathes deeply before looking out the window.

Stay focused and alert is your biggest motto. Your feelings and emotions cannot cloud your good judgment. So avoid looking at her the rest of the way.

When the Helicopter lands, Leah wonders how they'll make the convictions now. Since the group is used to working among themselves without Alejandro, what she sensed could unbalance the movements she was used to having with them.

Once downstairs, John already had everything planned.

Gaz and Alejandro would go straight to the warehouse and infiltrate inside until they reached the agreed point. Ghost and Soap would stay up high to keep watch around.

John stared at her and then at his companions.

—Leah and I will go to the forest downstream, go around the perimeter and we will meet at the shed — everyone nodded — be alert and focused —.

"Yes, sir," they murmured in unison and Leah saw her friends run towards where John indicated, she also saw John calmly puff the smoke from his cigar and his blue eyes looked at her through the darkness of the forest.

—Do you hear me? — John murmured through the headphones to the others, everyone responded affirmatively and John nodded to himself — Okay — he took a breath while holding his gun and when he turned he found Leah looking around — stay close — he whispered, trying to take the role that he used to take, being Captain, being Chief. But when he saw her slide towards him his heart tightened in his chest as if he wanted to put her under his arms and not let anyone touch her - stay alert -.

"Yes, sir," she said. At John's surprised expression Leah shrugged her shoulders - sorry, habit -.

—It's okay, it's as it should be — He takes a deep breath, fighting with himself —.

Leah looks at him strangely, a bitter feeling filling her nervous system. She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and follows him through the forest. It's not long until they see the structure, she crouches next to a tree, turns on the night vision to look around and then the sniper.

“Two guards outside, four inside,” he murmurs to John.

He nods.

Price: Bravo five, here bravo six, do you copy me? Gaz: Copied, we're in. Price: Good.

John looks at Leah and she nods, a tactical gesture she has committed to memory.

"Cut off the heads," John murmurs and she adjusts the franc in her hands, adjusts the sights and fires. The two men fall dead to the ground. John puts a hand on his arm - good job - they both nod and move towards the building -.

John shoots the light poles, turning them off, moving through the darkness they sneak into the building. It doesn't take long for them to meet up with Gaz and Alejandro. The four of them are against a wall waiting for the next move. But things don't look very good, there are more enemies than they thought there were.

"There are at least thirty," Gaz mutters, looking over the edge, "not counting the trucks outside."

—We will make it—John reloads his silencer weapon—the objective is in the subway cell—he slides his fingers across the screen of his phone looking at the graphics—Gaz and Alejandro, stay here. Leah—a nod indicates the order and the woman nods firmly, sliding with him down the narrow hallway toward the door—.

John gestures to her to be alert and watch when she sees someone out of the corner of her eye, John pushes her against the wall trying to stay still. Her eyes watch him closely, her breaths coming in gasps.

When the shadow passes, Leah moves a little away from John and his grip, he opens the subway door and kills two guards who appear on the other side. Leah slides over another enemy, her knife digging into the hard flesh and bones of the man's head as it falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

John looks at her as if he were seeing something amazing and a smile crosses his lips.

Concentrating again, they go down the stairs and enter the underground. John and Leah take down more enemies as they make their way to the cells, opening them one by one.

Leah kicks the penultimate one, a bandaged man is sitting on the bed. His hands are bloody and he is barefoot.

She whistles at John and he approaches to look at him, they don't have to say anything to know who is the target. A worker who has information, who has worked with Graves.

At that moment, something similar to a bomb explodes not far away, John and Leah fall to the ground with debris falling around them. He falls on her with the need to protect her. They try to communicate with the rest of the team but for some reason the radios don't work.

While they are trying to leave, they meet Gaz who tells them that she has broken up with Alejandro and that she doesn't know where he is because the radios don't work. He also tells them that he found the missiles they are building.

—Take him out of here, take him alive — John puts his hands on Gaz's shoulders — look for the others, and get out of here now —.

Gaz nods hesitantly, but grabs the bandaged man and forces him to walk away from them.

John turns to Leah who is looking for the door where the missiles are. He rushes to her grabbing her elbow pulling her towards him.

"We have to get out of here," he says urgently, but Leah denies.

—We can't go and leave this here John —she looks around, piles of empty barrels but in the background, almost in the darkness, blue containers appear before her eyes —.

"We have to go," he repeats, but she lets go and denies.

—You go, make sure the equipment is okay. I… I'll see how I destroy them.

She moves forward and John frowns at her, processing her attitude and what she apparently wants to do. He shakes his head groggily and approaches her again.

"It's too risky, Leah," he follows her as she kicks the barrels, throws folders in search of information.

—We can't go away and leave this like this.

—We have the objective, we must go.

"Go away," she continues searching until she stops in front of the containers.

John runs a hand over his face.

—You are disobeying orders from your superior —.

—Since when are you such a dictator? — She turns to him putting her hands on his belt, John opens his eyes thinking something else and when she removes one of the tools that John uses to open locks he rolls his eyes —.

—It's an order, if you don't obey you will be punished Leah —.

—Well, I don't care—she puts the tool in the lock and kicks it, the container door opens wide and they both stare at what's inside, two missiles. One finished and another… almost half built. Leah sighs, looking at him.

—Don't say anything—He shakes his head, looking around when he feels Leah take off her backpack and dig inside—Really? —.

"It's the only way," she responds, pulling out bombs.

—They are not under control Leah, you put them on and we will have twenty seconds to get out of here. And do you have any idea how long it will take us to get out of here? —.

"Well, I guess we're going to have to take a chance."

John snorts.

"The hell with you, woman," although he denies, he knows it's the only solution, so he helps her place the bombs quickly. When they place the last one, they look into each other's eyes. "I have to admit your audacity."

She laughs but doesn't say anything.

John activates the bombs, grabs her hand and starts running with her pulling.

They can't make it to the stairs when the bombs explode. Smoke and debris fill the place and Leah falls to the side, she is sure she has hurt her head somewhere but she doesn't think about it as she tries to look for John in the fog of smoke and dirt. He stands against the wall, trying to breathe but even the air is toxic, his ears are slightly blocked and he hears the gunshots as if they were echoes. His vision doesn't clear at all and he tries to concentrate on coming to his senses.

John's large shadow crosses her gaze, grabbing her by the shoulders, he shelters her behind his back while she sees him shoot, she hears him shout something, but she can't hear him. John pushes the escape doors and they go outside, the gunshots getting louder as Leah hears again.

—You have to run now! — he shouts at her, grabbing her hand — Come on, come on — she shakes her head, they go into the darkness of the forest, running along the paths, running, running, running, until the building, the fire and the shots are just a far point in his sight —Don't stop! - he shouts, pulling her -.

The cold hits her face, but the heat from the adrenaline of running keeps her warm.

They run, until the sounds of gunshots are just echoes.

Leah stops bracing her hands against her knees, panting. John is still in front of her, his blue eyes looking at her in the darkness.

"They'll be fine," he whispers with a broken voice. "They'll be fine."

Leah swallows, looking over her shoulder, cursing under her breath. Yes, she knows her friends will be okay. Has to follow.

—Leah—she feels John's fingers hovering around her arm—come on, we have to continue.

It was very cold. John knew that at that time of year in Paris, it snowed.

He had to find shelter soon.

Chapter 6

Leah doesn't know how far she has walked, but she can't feel her legs as she continues to do so, trying to keep up with John, wondering if he isn't tired, although she can see that he is evidently panting as the minutes pass much more than before.

She tries to concentrate, her hands holding her gun as she follows him silently. It is evident that they have separated from the group and that she feels disoriented, and if it weren't for the fact that John is ahead of her, she would be curling up on the floor and letting herself die. Cold dead.

The damn radios don't work and they're in the middle of a fucking forest in a country they've never been to before. The lack of signal has caused John to almost break the emergency radios they had in their backpack. And to make it worse, the cold has gotten rough. The snow started falling a long time ago and every step is a pain in her bones that makes her shudder.

And yet, as she follows him she is thinking about John's kiss. The one she hasn't been able to stop thinking about since that night and now that they were stranded in the middle of nowhere, she wondered if he was going to continue with that Capitan attitude all the time or was he going to come hug her to warm her and kiss her.

"There's a river to the south," John murmurs, walking with his eyes straight ahead. "There should be some cover or…" He turns over his shoulder to look at Leah and when he sees her, he stops dead. His expression reflects concern mixed with softness.

—Yes—Leah responds, watching as her feet begin to leave marks due to the snow that is accumulating, a gust of vision envelops them and Leah has to hug herself with her eyes closed to tolerate the cold that she tolerates less and less, so In fact, he's shivering and despite the gloves his fingers and toes feel colder than a penguin's—or maybe finding shelter or something, whatever.

John stops causing Leah to crash into his chest and stumble back but he grabs her arm. His brow is slightly furrowed, his blue eyes boring into hers, his voice barely above a whisper.

—Come here—John pulls her towards his body. He hugs her and rubs her arms and back trying to give her some kind of warmth. Leah closes her eyes against the comfort and sensation.

"Although I like this a lot, I think we should move on."

The touch between the two is electric, intimate. John's hands run up and down his back. His fingers caressing her, as if that does any good or is just a lame excuse to have her close. Leah looks up at him. His gaze is penetrating on her.

—You need heat. "You can trust me for that," he whispers, pulling her closer to him.

Leah leans on his chest, for a few seconds it seems like she stops shaking. Her arms are ridiculously big and strong and protect her from the cold.

"I see that," he murmurs, "but we have to…" as soon as he moves away he begins to tremble. "Keep moving forward, come on." Leah pats John's chest, moving ahead of him.

John takes a deep breath and watches her walk like she's made of jelly, trying hard not to keep shaking.

—Are you avoiding me or something? —he asks, matching his pace.

—Avoiding you? John, I'm freezing to death.

He growls under his breath.

—How do you come to a place like this with a jacket as thin as that? —he looks at her—Where is your head lately? —.

"You don't want to know." John looks at her and chuckles. However, when Leah returns the flirtatious look, she staggers and John grabs her again.

"One step at a time," he warns her gently.

They walk several more kilometers, Leah no longer feels the cold on her face or her hands. He looks up past the tree trunks and steep hills and sees a small cabin in the middle of several trees. He grabs John by the arm, patting him almost on the verge of screaming, and points him in the direction of the cabin.

“Caba-cabaña,” she shivered, her arms clinging to herself. John puts his arm around her, pressing her against him, and rubs her arms.

"Fuck me," he says, laughing, "come on, let's go."

John pushes the old door open with one hand while making sure to get Leah inside to protect her from the wind.

"Stay here, I'll take a look at the outside."

Leah nods as she rubs her arms and her chin trembles, her teeth chattering. Look around. There is a large bed in the corner, a kitchen that probably doesn't work, another door that could lead to the bathroom, an old couch, and a table with two chairs by the window near the front door. It is small and probably long abandoned.

John enters, closing the door tightly, he locks it so that it does not open and he takes off his backpack and all the things that could get in his way. The first thing he does is take off his military equipment and then the jacket he is wearing underneath, he quickly puts it over his shoulders. Leah's shoulders and rubs her arms.

"You'll be fine," he encourages, looking into her eyes, both of them looking at a small fireplace on the side.

—We can't light it, if they see the smoke they could see us, if the boys aren't looking for us… — John caresses her back —.

—Shhh, I know. They will find us without smoke, I know — John has her against his chest and looks at the bed — Why don't you go to bed? Come - he approaches the bed and sits her on the edge, looks at some furniture near the wall, opens it and finds blankets -.

"Someone definitely lives here," Leah manages to say quickly before shivering again.

—We'll leave her a note when we leave or we'll become her friend by hook or by crook if she comes back—John winks and puts several blankets over her—that's it… you'll be fine.

"F-fuck John, I'm… I'm sorry," he's still shaking and rubbing his hands over his face, blowing breath between them as if that would help. John takes her hands. Small hands between huge hands. He rubs them against his while looking at her.

—I'm made for this, it's not fair to you — he laughs as if he were mocking, rubbing his hands against Leah's while he watches her smile from the side — You're like icicles.

She laughs looking down, the feeling of his large hands rubbing hers is so comforting. They are so warm…

"Take a breath," he whispers, "that's it."

His voice and warm hands calm her a little like rain after a storm. John leans down and places a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Rest," he whispers, caressing her back with one hand while still supporting her with the other.

“Hold me,” she says, as if she desperately needs to get her hands under John's clothes to feel his body heat.

John doesn't even doubt it. He throws himself on the bed and pulls her up while Leah puts her head between his chest and his arm. John caresses her arms as he wraps her in the blankets.

"It's okay," he whispers, "now rest a little. Are you warm now?" —.

Leah now doesn't know if she's shivering because of the cold or because of the naturalness with which John flirts. She wonders if he's conscious about the way he talks to her, like he wants to make her cringe all the damn time.

"Aha," he manages to say.

John hums quietly, a soft sound falling from his lips as his hand caresses her arms. His big, strong hands move with a gentle touch and she wants him to touch her under the covers, to give her warmth, body heat. But try to handle the situation without losing your mind because of what you are feeling. Besides the cold.

"I'm sorry for being so cold," she murmurs with her cheek against John's chest.

"You're freezing, there's no need to apologize."

Leah's hand resting on John's hard stomach is caught by John's free hand. He intertwines their fingers in a way to continue warming her up. Rub the backs of your fingers up and down.

"Mmm," Leah whispers, narrowing her eyes, her skin tingles in the areas he's touching her, her body getting incredibly hot.

"That's it," says John, "you're hot now."

Outside the wind whips against the house as if it were going to blow it down, the snow falls like there is no tomorrow, and the whistle of the wind that gets between the old wood of the house makes Leah shrink into John's lap.

—Tell me a story, whatever, I hate storms…

He smiles, his voice soft.

—Once upon a time there was a little girl… and she was cold. Like you. But she had a big, strong man. He put his arms around her and promised her that everything was going to be okay—John looks down at her and meets her brown eyes. His blue eyes studying her gaze in the darkness - and he believed him -.

"Ha, ha… that's funny," she laughs and snuggles further into his lap. Her little hands feeling the hard skin of her clothes. Will her skin be as warm as her hands? Suddenly the image of him in the darkness of his room at the base, with his chest exposed, makes his throat go dry.

John sighs, pulling her close to him, his arm wrapping around her even tighter and she hides her head under his chin as John's hand moves up to her neck, playing with the strands of her hair.

"I'll keep you warm, Leah." Just close your eyes. Everything will be fine. I promise -.

Leah relaxes, her body warming up, her legs intertwined with John's, his hand safe against her abdomen over her clothes, his strong arms protecting her. The sound of the wind and the blizzard is suddenly just a whisper as her eyes close and close until she falls asleep.

(…)

He opens his eyes with a wave of panic. There is no one next to him and there is silence and light. The first thing he does is sit down on the bed suddenly, evaluating its entire contour with his eyes.

He stops to look at the man hunched against the table, growling under his breath.

—John? —The Captain looks at her but concentrates again. Leah takes a while to realize it but when she does she notices that she is fighting with the radios.

John lets out a frustrated huff. He stops for a moment and his eyes linger on her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her arms, tucked into that too-big-for-her jacket of his that makes him smile.

-Did you sleep well? —.

"Yes," she murmurs, looking out the window. Outside everything is white and there is no seeing. Even the sun seems to be hot. Although he still trembles a little, it's actually due to the lack of John's body heat and he frowns as he looks at him again. "You didn't sleep at all, right?" —.

"Someone had to be alert and had to try to fix these shitty radios that…" John stops, looking at Leah with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

—I work surrounded by men, I listen to all kinds of things. A swear word doesn't scare me — she smiles warmly and John does so for a moment. However, go back to watching the radios — you should get some sleep now. You can't go without sleep.

—No, no… I need to fix this. Just warm up, I'm fine.

Leah rolls her eyes.

“Grumpy bear,” he mutters under his breath, looking out the window. She thinks he didn't hear her, but John slowly turns his face to Leah.

“Damn, I heard that,” he huffs in the most annoying but loving way possible. His blue eyes are on her and as much as he wants to continue fighting with the radios, he knows she's right. So she slowly gets up and sits next to Leah on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't say anything," Leah turns to look at him with feigned innocence.

—Yes, yes you did — He smiles as he rubs his hands along your arms — Are you still cold? —.

"Just a little bit," Leah shrugs her shoulders as John hugs her, giving her a kiss on the back of her head.

"Keep resting, we're going to be here for a long time." John huffs, sliding his arm away from Leah and stands up, but when he does, Leah's hand closes around his arm.

"Stay," she murmurs, looking at him almost with a shyness that makes him feel overwhelmed. He looks at her fingers on his arm and his breath catches in his throat, he sits up taking a deep breath, putting an arm around Leah's back again, pulling her closer to him.

His chest is warm and musky beneath the layers of clothing he's wearing. He slides onto the bed again, his large body stretching across it as he waits for her to do the same. Leah doesn't think about it for a second and crawls towards him, getting into his arms.

The contact instantly warms Leah and as he holds her her breathing becomes heavy.

When both are comfortable. John closes his eyes trying to sleep. Having Leah's body pressed against him is a challenge, especially not touching her as his thoughts are leading him to do. He is a trained and calculating man after all.

But with her he just wants to be John. Just John.

—You're so warm. "Like a stove," she says with her eyes closed, unconsciously turning, her face against his strong arm while John moves on her back to hug her and snuggle behind her.

-Yeah? — John laughs slowly, a hoarse laugh that leaves havoc on Leah's neck as their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle —.

"Mmm yes, I could stay like this forever," he says with his eyes closed.

—Yes—John looks at the wall, feeling his ears get hot. She rubs Leah's arms as a distraction, but that makes it worse. The fire that burns in his chest for her is enormous.

-It is very cold -.

"Calm down," he says with a sigh, "You know?" Don't tell the others but… you're my favorite.

Leah turns her gaze slightly to look at him.

-Yeah? — he smiles, but immediately freezes when he feels John's air on his neck —.

—You are by far my favorite, Sergeant. For a country mile — John's voice is a thick, hoarse whisper as if he's holding breath. His eyes look at Leah's neck as if his fangs were coming out.

She swallows slowly knowing what she is doing and what she wants. She desperately needs him so she turns around again hugging him face to face, closes her eyes and brings her cheek closer to John's, sliding it over his beard.

"You're so warm," she whispers, feeling John's hands slide slowly along her waist.

John closes his eyes feeling her touch, his nose gets into Leah's hair inhaling her shampoo smell, she always smells of citrus and he loves it and now that he has her there in his arms, rubbing against him like a kitten looking for affection John feels like he's about to lose his mind.

—Leah…

—John… — Leah's hands slide over his broad shoulders over the thermal shirt, then she touches his neck, even feeling the veins in it. The pores of your skin. Leah isn't even breathing.

"Leah I…"

"Kiss me please," he begs, his voice like a moan coming from his throat, if he could kneel to ask for it, Jesus, he would do it "please…"

The corner of John's mouth twitches upward. His large hand covers Leah's entire back and his strong arms wrap around her carefully. He can feel her breath hitting his skin. He wants to kiss her, with every fiber of her skin, and his heart races in his chest as he presses his forehead against Leah's. Blue eyes staring at her almost breathless.

Then Leah kisses him. At first glance it looks like a clumsy, almost childish kiss, but when John puts his hand in her hair, moving it to intensify the kiss. A quiet sound escapes his throat, pleasure but also something that makes John's heart tremble with every soft movement of Leah's lips against his.

He smiles against her lips and combs her hair with his fingers, a tender, breathless caress.

—Damn Leah…

—John…

He laughs against her lips pressing them again. His hands run over Leah's body as if asking her permission while she grips her fingers into the fabric of his T-shirt and her tongue shyly slides into his mouth.

"Damn…" John murmurs.

His right hand slides over her waist caressing her waist. Slowly going down her thigh, leading her to place her leg over his and higher over his hips.

—John I…

"About that night Leah," he murmurs against his lips, which run down his chin toward his neck, his beard tickling Leah as he holds her hips with one hand.

-What about that? We kissed John… and I… you…

-Me what? — John steps away for just a moment to look at her with one eyebrow over the other —.

—I like you, I like you a lot—she looks at his lips, his blue eyes looking into hers—.

—Mmmm—John leans into his neck again, this time nibbling a little, as if he were tasting his flesh. Leah moans as John's hands slide over the fabric of her jeans, caressing her thighs and hips until they slip under her blouse, touching her skin — you're so soft.

"John…" She moves restlessly under his large body, her hands move along his back and soon get under his shirt. His skin is hard, hot.

"Leah, let me show you how much I like you," he says in a growl as he licks the entire length of her neck to her ear, making sure he hears her very well. "Yes?" Be a good girl and let me show you.

"Yes, yes," she opens her mouth as she feels John's fingers press against her hips, almost panting. John takes her face in one hand and kisses her passionately. His tongue thrusting into her mouth, exploring. Moaning.

For a moment there is nothing else but the two of them, rubbing, kissing. Moving their tongues fervently over each other's. She feels John's hardness hitting her which makes her moan.

—God, you're so sensitive… I never imagined that… — he slides his mouth down, licking her neck — that you were so sensitive Leah — his mouth lowers, his tongue licks her collarbone, he nibbles desperately as he touches her down — .

Her throat gets dry from thinking when she is wet. Which makes him pull away and get on his knees between her legs. Leah opens her eyes disoriented and her heart stops when John pulls his shirt over his head.

His hard, wide body looms before her. Beautiful dark and light ones in the middle of his pecs… those marked muscles. Those strong arms. It makes your throat dry.

John leans over her again, biting Leah's bottom lip and she drops her hands to his shoulders touching his skin. Several scars cross his skin in various places and he finds it so fucking sexy that he can't stop touching it.

—Are you going to be good to me? —.

"Yes," he murmurs, watching John go down his neck, kissing his chest over his clothes, lifting his blouse to kiss his belly that contracts when he feels his beard. "John…" his cheeks turn red just by feeling him go down and An unexpected scream leaves her throat when John pulls her pants and panties down at the same time — John…

"Shh…" he whispers, shaking his head. He takes off her boots and socks quickly, the same with the rest of the clothes, Leah closes her legs embarrassed but John separates them, burying his fingers in her thighs — Jesus Christ Leah — looks at her, licking her lips — Jesus Christ — she says as if to him. same…

—John… p-please…

John sees her cover her mouth and as he leans towards her legs, imagining her taste, he removes his hand from her mouth.

—No doll, you're going to scream. I want to hear you scream, yeah? — Judgment leaves Leah's body and her eyes roll into her head as the captain's tongue slides along her vagina while he moans with pleasure —.

Chapter 7

“John, n-no,” she sighs, her throat closing, her body tensing as he slides his arms under her thighs to hold her close and still.

—Mmm… —she hears him moan, while she squirms. Captain Price's tongue slides between Leah's folds with expertise, determination and boldness.

Jesus, no one would think you had that language, Captain. Leah thinks as she grits her teeth trying to control herself.

In her short 28 years not a man had touched her that way. Definitely not like him and he hadn't had many lovers in his life so to speak. She was always very strict about it, no sex before the first date. But with John I was open-legged without an appointment or anything on the agenda.

Her eyes roll into her head as he sticks his tongue in and his fingers move slowly around her clit. Teasing her, having fun with her. But John's own moans are starting to drive her crazy.

"Oh John, p-please," she whispers, her voice is barely a whisper and every time she covers her mouth to scream, The Captain yanks it away and nibbles at it, scolding her.

Leah felt herself unraveling, her heart beating like crazy with every lick, breath, or bite. John Price's huge hands rise from time to time upwards, touching the edge of her breasts.

"Mmm…" he moans again.

Heat begins to build up in your belly and your hips begin to move involuntarily.

In less than five minutes Leah finds herself moaning and whimpering while he is buried between her thighs. His body trembles, collapsing as the desire warms his belly and expands around him.

"That's it," he murmurs with a touch of calm and passion that shines in his eyes when they look at her. John smiles as he looks up at her and pulls away just a little, leaning his body over her. His hand softly hovering over her neck and rising to her lips, putting his fingers in Leah's mouth - Doll… - he grunts as he takes out his fingers and moves closer, kissing her mouth as if he were eating her alive, she moans against him. mouth. Feminine and sensual moans, as sweet or sweeter than what he imagined Leah could make, lost, he lowers his hand and fucks her slowly with the same fingers - Fuck… - he murmurs - you're so ready for me. Tell me how ready you are — she murmurs with her lips on Leah's neck — are you ready for me? —.

"Y-yes," she gasps, her body hunching over him, her moans incoherent, her hands on John's shoulders.

-Say it -.

"I'm ready, ready for you John," she says barely in a whisper, John's growl coming out of her throat like a growl that gets lost in her mouth.

It doesn't take him long to get rid of the rest of his clothes off the bed, while Leah's head is spinning from the orgasm she just had with John's tongue, she is dragged by his legs to the edge of the bed and makes a loud noise. I scream in surprise. He kisses her slowly, passing his tongue over her lips. A tender, romantic kiss that turns into a passionate one as he sticks his tongue into her mouth, moaning on her tongue as he rubs his huge, thick erection over Leah's wet folds.

“J-John,” she moans, her nails digging into his shoulders, slowly but enough for John to moan with a smile.

He pulls away, spreading Leah's legs with his hands, making sure she's spread wide open for him. She takes his erection and slides it through her folds, torturing her clit as Leah nearly cries.

"I don't have condoms," he moans almost breathlessly.

-I inject -.

"Still…" John bites his lip, the thick tip of his penis pressing at Leah's entrance making her whimper.

He looks into her eyes from above and what they want is implicit, of course. If it's for both of their approval, Leah doesn't mind if he cums inside, but she wouldn't mind if he did it outside either. For John, however, it is a topic that causes a stir. It makes him nervous but the mere idea of seeing her full of him anywhere on her body makes his brain scramble.

"P-please," she moans and John narrows his eyes, taking his member, sinking into her with his eyes closed.

"Jesus… God… you're so… you're so…" The words are lost in his mouth, dying when he leans down, grabbing one of her legs to wrap it around his hips and kisses her. Mmm… Are you okay? — he asks in a whisper, Leah nods, biting her tongue — Can… can you do more?

"Yes, just… just do it," she slides her nails down his back and John's skin ripples with her touch, pushing deeper into her until she takes him completely. "You're so…" she murmurs into his neck, inhaling. the smell of her hair — so good…

And then the eternal sway begins, the rough, soft hands on her body, grabbing her breasts while she rocks as if there were no tomorrow. A string of curses spill from Leah's lips as he pushes against her, biting her skin, kissing, licking. The moans are muffled by the sound of their fur.

There, alone in the middle of the morning, surrounded by snow and trees. The birds fly out of their tops at Leah's moans, John's growls take her to ecstasy, make her lose her sanity.

Leah's legs tighten around his hips, feeling her tighten around him makes him slam hard into her.

"Oh Leah," John's voice is low as he squeezes her between his hands, while his mouth runs over her neck, her collarbone, while his tongue swirls around her nipples.

Leah kisses him, her hands gripping his hard, strong back. The way John moves against her makes her lose her mind. She moans loudly in his ear, digging her nails into him. The movements become strong, wild and are joined by grunts and meaningless words.

—John…

—You're so pretty… — he moans in her ear — so soft Leah…

—John… —.

She twitches and John feels her, making her wince.

—Mmm—He hits harder, satisfied with having found his point, that point that every time he presses Leah's eyes fly over her head.

—Mmm John! -.to…

"Say it," he pushes hard, concisely.

—John! —.

John bites her neck and his tongue licks the mark, Leah moans, her legs shaking and her body arching. His nails slide down John's back and dig into his ass.

-Hmm…

—Oh John… John…

"Mmmm I like my name on your lips doll," he whispers, biting her lower lip, "that's it, that's it…"

Leah moans louder and louder and the orgasm rocks her again, warming her and making her shiver. John wraps his arms around her as he pushes against her, their bodies pinking as he gets harder and harder.

—Mmm… — he kisses her with a passion that she has never felt before, everything has been much more than she has even imagined — Leah…

She looks up at him and John stands up, holding her legs as he pulls out of her, John's hand wrapping around his hard member as he masturbates until his moans make Leah want to come just listening to him.

Then the hot, white thing falls on her belly and she looks into his eyes while he does it, she licks her lips watching it, watching it cum all over her hot, panting body.

—Oh God… — John murmurs looking at her body full of her — honey… you look… — he squints his eyes still moaning —.

The corners of Leah's mouth turn upward. He's sweating, he's sweating and it must be at least two degrees below zero. He gasps, trying to catch his breath, and closes his eyes for a second, listening to John Price's breathing. She opens them when she feels that he is on top of her cleaning her body, she looks at him almost adoringly.

The image of a man like him bending over her cleaning the remains of his semen on her belly and thighs with such dedication is worthy of a photograph. Even her short hair looks messy as she runs her fingers through it after finishing and tosses the piece of cloth off the bed before crawling back to her and kissing her arms all the way to her neck.

-Are you OK? — He wraps his arms around her and turns her, pressing Leah's back to his chest, and she begins to suspect that this might be her favorite position for curling up in bed. Which makes her smile - She raises her hands - she does and he covers them both with the sheets and blankets - that's it -.

—I'm fine. Are you? —she adjusts to him. John's body is still warm on his back and his arms wrap around him better than a blanket.

—Mmm—he buries his face between her neck and her hair—I am.

There is a slight silence between the two of them, dozing and taking in what they just did. They only listen to the sound of nature outside and their breathing that little by little begins to return to a normal rhythm.

—John? — Leah strokes John's arm under her head —.

-Hmm? —.

The words get stuck in her throat and John feels her tense in his arms. So he opens his eyes, caressing her skin with his fingers.

-Is that I…

—You're worried, aren't you? What are you going to do now that you've slept with old Captain Price?

Leah turns in his arms to face him, although the first thing she sees is his hard chest and her small fingers shyly trace his scars, although her gaze on John's blue eyes is determined.

"You're not old," he furrows his eyebrows.

—Leah—he caresses her face with the back of his hand—don't worry about it. Is it something you regret? — she shakes her head — then nothing happens. Is it something you don't want anyone to know? —.

—Do you want anyone to know? —.

—I don't care—he shrugs his shoulders—maybe we can keep it between us for a while but eventually they're going to find out, you know? —John's fingers slide into Leah's blonde hair—.

—And that doesn't bother you? —.

—Do others know? —.

-Yeah -.

"It's going to bother me when they stare at you blatantly in my presence and I have to grit my teeth and have to remind you who you belong to," he says so sweetly that Leah laughs but sees honesty in his eyes and that makes her purse her lips. "It doesn't bother me." Let them know that you are mine. Because you're mine — John pauses with his hand around her cheeks — Because you're mine, aren't you? —.

"I love being yours," she smiles, "I've wanted to be for a while." John raises an eyebrow and his throat resonates loudly as he sees her red cheeks.

"I may have an idea, Leah." You gave me very suggestive looks, what do you want me to tell you - she opens her mouth to say something, but John grabs her cheeks, opening her mouth - you have always seemed too dangerous to me to look at for too long. I knew you would be one of those women who you look in the eyes and you are lost.

-That? —she almost laughs—And have you met many of those women? —he says with some suspicion—.

—Many, but not one like you—Leah rolls her eyes and John laughs, drawing her face closer to him by her cheek—it's a joke, Leah I just want to flirt with you. I have not met women like you, I like you, I like you a lot.

She looks at his lips and closes the distance by kissing him and pressing her naked body to him. John grunts, he's a little tired but when she tangles her legs against his and her nails tear the skin of his back, he knows that tiredness is overrated.

(…)

Somewhere in Paris a group of men organizes to find their captain.

Gaz is communicating with Laswell after the asset is taken away for questioning, talking to Laswell to send out the search teams while Soap spins the knife in the air with his elbow on one leg and his chin on his palm.

—Maybe they're fucking behind a tree or…

"For God's sake, Johnny," Ghost throws a rock at him, but Alejandro, who is trying to read the map Gaz gave him, looks at Soap with one eyebrow over the other.

—Fucking? —.

Soap looks at him.

—It's a joke, a man and a woman like Leah lost in the middle of nowhere — he shrugs his shoulders — I don't know, think about it. You don't have to think about it much really.

—Plus they both have a lot of chemistry—Ghost also shrugs his shoulders while Alejandro furrows his eyebrows at his comments. Gaz approaches after talking to Laswell on the radio — What did he say? —.

—The search team is on the way, but they're going to take too long. It's been one night already, they could be dead.

—How little faith Gaz — Soap puts away the knife and takes the map from Alejandro — if they fled upriver they could have followed the short path — Gaz leans down to look —.

—But if they went for the other one? —.

—Then we split up, it's already stopped snowing and it's not going to do it again — Ghost murmurs — Soap and I are going down the path to the river, you and Alejandro go the other way. If they don't find anything at this point, we communicate and we meet here at dusk.

"Solid," Soap nods, adjusting his weapon.

The four shake hands, grab their weapons, backpacks and equipment and prepare to search.

(…)

—Okay then, favorite music? — Leah is lying next to John, their legs intertwined, they have dressed because of the cold but you still remain lying together under the sheets —.

—The one from the eighties, in particular… anyone — John has one hand supporting his head while he looks at her from the side —.

"Say one, come on."

—Well… Any Rupert Holmes.

Leah tilts her head.

—And who… is it?

—You don't know who…? Damn Leah, I'm going to have to teach you about music.

-Sing a song -.

John starts laughing.

-No -.

-Oh, come on. Aren't English men daring? Sings -.

—No—he growls—Tell me your favorite song, if you sing it I'll sing it. Let me guess, you grew up in the 2000s, Britney Spears? —.

Leah laughs.

—Everyone likes Britney —.

—Not if it makes you want to shave, honey —John reaches into his backpack and takes out the last of their food, the last can of disgusting vegetables. Leah wrinkles her nose.

"I'd rather die of hunger," he pushes him away with his hand.

"Don't be stubborn, it's an order," he grunts and opens the can. "Come on, just a little."

Leah eats a little then John, both suppressing the urge to vomit. But they laugh about the situation minutes later. When they see that the sun is setting Leah looks at the broken radios.

-And if…?

—We are not going to go anywhere, if they look for us they will find us here. My boys are smart, they will find us.

Leah huffs and snuggles into his chest with her eyes half lidded.

—Now tell me, sweet or salty? —John asks him—.

—Sweet — she shudders — Oh my God, lemon pie, coffee with two sugar, raspberry cake, oh shit… I need to eat that. Donuts filled with strawberry jam.

"Disgusting," he wrinkles his nose and Leah looks at him.

—You hate sugar — John raises his eyebrows in surprise — I've been working with you for years, bringing you coffee to the office or sitting next to you in meetings or lunches.

—You were taking your notes, Hmm? - he caresses her face - I can see it…

—Mmm—she leans over him and kisses him.

—Mmm—his arms surround her and he turns to stand on top of her—I like it.

(…)

They have been walking in the dark forest for several hours, Alejandro is energetic, just what Gaz needs to not stop his pace searching and searching incessantly. However, Alejandro cannot get the doubt out of his chest.

"Hey Garrick," she says as he walks ahead pointing his gun and flashlight in the dark.

-That? —.

"Do Price and Leah have something?" —.

Gaz turns to look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

-Because?

—Soap and Ghost kept insinuating things and… —.

-You like her? —.

"We have been friends for a long time."

—I know, he told me about you — Gaz looks a little suspicious — he really appreciates you.

—Ya, I know — Alejandro looks ahead and sees a cabin hidden between trees and snow —.

The question is not answered and Gaz is grateful that he doesn't ask again and hopes that whatever they are doing if they are there, that they aren't fucking. Although inside he would be laughing if something like that were to happen.

(…)

John is enthralled kissing Leah's neck, nibbling on it while his hands caress her breasts under her clothes and rubs against her slowly. Caresses, a tender game to kill time while you continue asking each other questions.

—Do you remember that? —Price nibbles on his neck—.

—From when Gaz fell from the helicopter? —John pulls away to look her in the eyes—.

"You should be more specific, honey," he says with a smile.

"Well, the time he fell out of the helicopter in Russia, when we were chasing the arms dealer."

—Ah, yes — John laughs as he continues nibbling and licking — yes.

They both laugh until they hear noise outside.

The two of them, like the trained soldiers that they are, move away from each other as quickly as they can and grab their weapons. Leah slides towards the door since she is barefoot without making a sound and John grabbing his gun wins on the other side. The footsteps are heard getting closer, John raises two fingers towards Leah which indicates that there are two people coming.

He puts a finger to his lips, his weapons in position.

The door opens and in the darkness a man points his gun everywhere, John jumps around the young man by the neck.

"I want there," John says, Leah points at the other but he grabs her without realizing who she is.

"Captain," Gaz raises his hands in defense and John immediately releases him.

"Just look," he laughs.

—Gaz! — Leah grabs his arm and hugs him —.

-Are you OK? — he asks, laughing — I see you more than fine — he raises an eyebrow at the captain who is sitting putting on his boots with a harsh laugh that breaks all schemes —.

"Alejandro," she hugs him.

"I'm glad to see you well Leah," he hugs her tightly. "You're not cold at all," he murmurs, taking her hands.

John walks over and drops the palm of his hand on Alejandro's shoulder.

"I took care of keeping her warm, Colonel Vargas," he winks as he picks up his backpack and looks at Leah, "get your things together, come on."

Leah turns red as a tomato and promises to get revenge for it later. John can't handle Alejandro's face and laughs in his face, with no intention of being mocking. Alejandro chuckles, trying to think it's just a joke, but his eyes follow John Price until he walks out the door with Gaz.

—Are you okay Ale? — Leah grabs his arm when he sees her ready to leave —.

"Yes," he says, looking at her curiously.

Gaz calls to them from outside and they leave, but when she closes the door behind her, John turns to her holding out a paper.

—I forgot this, for the owner of the cabin — Leah laughs and opens the paper.

"Of two crazy lovers who like him very much, Merci"

-What does it say? — Alejandro wants to know, but Leah doubles down —.

"Nothing important," she responds, laughing and going into the cabin again, when Alejandro comes out and Gaz is waiting for them ahead and John looks at her with his hands on his equipment on his chest. "What?" —.

"Nothing," he shrugs his shoulders with a smile that is barely visible.

Leah shakes her head and sets off, following Gaz and Alejandro, who contact Laswell to tell them that they are safe and returning to base in London.

Chapter 8

Leah and Captain Price have been seeing each other for about two weeks.

The vast majority of the time the man sneaks into Leah's room at night or they just go out for a drink like two good friends when the group wants to go out and have fun.

This morning, however, Leah gets up knowing that she will see little of John unless it is to pay him a short visit in his office.

"I won't do anything because I'll be at the base, I have work to do with the new ones, Kate."

—Someday you have to celebrate your twenty-ninth — Laswell sighs on the other line —.

—Anyway, do I have to be in your office tomorrow? To organize my times -.

—Yes, I need you to come and talk about something that has me worried, yes? —.

—As a friend or as a boss? — Leah crosses the hallway to the cafeteria to make a coffee, in the distance she sees Gaz waving a hand for her to come closer and she waves back to tell him to wait —.

"Like both," Laswell puts on his serious tone of voice and Leah snorts, she hopes it's not what she thinks because she and John have been quite careful not to let anyone see them.

In the morning Gaz and Soap went to sing happy birthday at their door, laughing while Ghost was there but not singing and with his eyes rolling and shaking his head while saying that they were ridiculous.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Leah hangs up on the call, puts the phone in the back pocket of her dark pants, and walks over to her friends who are waiting for her at the table.

-Surprise! — Gaz jumps from her seat and Soap reaches out to a piece of cake on the table with a candle — it's little, but with the heart — Leah laughs and pats Gaz's shoulder —.

—They didn't have to do it — Leah hugs Gaz — but thank you —.

Gaz and Soap exchange glances.

—Why don't you come to the bar tonight? We got drunk in your honor — Leah sits down, putting her coffee on the table, turning it thoughtfully — Come on! It will be like every year.

And it was true. Every year on her birthday she went to the bar with them. Only once did her birthday fall on her days off and she was alone in her apartment sinking into a bottle of wine. John would always go with them for a while, have a couple of drinks and leave.

This time Leah thought her birthday was going to be different. But John hadn't even said good morning to her and he didn't come to her room the night before. They didn't always have clear sex, but cuddling next to him was enough.

So she sighs, trying to deal with the silly feeling of feeling… a little ignored on the day she intended to be regaled by her secret lover.

-Yes, sure -.

Gaz and Soap high-fived and Ghost said something about drunks and Leah was deep in thought for a long time.

Gaz enters John Price's office around afternoon, as the sun is about to set. The boy is wearing dark military clothing, the ones they usually wear when there are no battles to fight.

The captain is engrossed in papers and eyes in front of the computer.

"Gaz," he murmurs without looking at him.

—Sir, let's go to the bar. Are you coming? —.

-To the bar? Why would they go to the bar one day in the middle of the week? Don't they have to train or make it more productive? —.

"Just for today, sir… you know, to celebrate Leah's birthday."

John leaves the papers in his hands. His eyes stop blinking and he looks at Gaz carefully.

—Ah—.

-He forgot? — Gaz raises an eyebrow. He is the only one, even though neither Leah nor John have told him anything, who knows about their secret relationship. Maybe Laswell, once John slipped past his lips and called her, honey without realizing it, and Kate's eyebrow rose curiously at the sight of Leah's red cheeks.

"Of course not," he continues working trying to hide it. How could he forget something so important?

—So you're going? —.

-Yes Yes. I'll catch up with them - he waves his hand for Gaz to leave and when Gaz leaves John grabs his cell phone almost desperately and calls -.

Kate Laswell responds to the third ring.

"No questions, just answer," John speaks with a calm voice.

—Anything you want to tell me? —.

—I said without questions—John clears his throat—Leah's favorite flowers—.

John hears Kate snort and then Kate's wife's voice is clearly heard.

-The daisies! —Allie exclaims.

—Shh Allie! — Laswell scolds her but then Allie takes the phone from his wife —.

—Hello John, nice to greet you. Are you dating our beloved Leah? — John almost got stuck — you don't have to answer, it's quite obvious you're happier than usual and less grumpy, that's progress since you already know… —.

—I need a place that sends flowers here to the base now — he cuts her off, clearing his throat — Can you help me with that? —.

-Yeah! Oh, I know him. They will be delivered directly to your room at the base. Do you want them to include a note too? Oh God how romantic! — John massages his forehead and hears a busy sound on the other side, Laswell picks up the phone again —.

"Watch what you do, John."

—Thanks for the information, give my regards to Allie, as pleasant as always —.

-I'm watching you -.

—Bye Allie —.

Even though John furrows his eyebrows somewhat irritably, he's chuckling. He leaves the phone on the table and pats his forehead. How could he forget something so important? He couldn't forgive himself.

He finishes the paperwork he is organizing and leaves his office to his room to take a shower and change and goes to the nearest book store outside the base. That literally takes up most of the rest of the day.

Around ten o'clock, he sees a man arrive with a huge bouquet of daisy flowers and John hides behind the wall in panic. Close your eyes tightly.

It was just a twig Allie!

She watches him walk down the hall to Leah's room. He hides between the door and the wall watching as she opens the door and receives the gigantic bouquet of daisies.

John hits his forehead against the wall several times, cursing under his breath.

Then he sighs.

Although it's been too much he hopes Leah doesn't get angry or it seems like it's too much because it is…too much.

Fuck.

He shuffles into his office and picks up the gift-wrapped book on the table, jotting down a note and quickly writing something down. And he tips his hat to the reflection in his office windows. He adjusts his dark jacket and runs his fingers through his hair.

He sighs nervously, many feelings swirling inside him. Doubts about whether you're doing the right thing leave you when your phone vibrates with a message.

Leah C. Whatever, I'll be with the boys at the bar.

He looks at the message with a raised eyebrow. Maybe what Allie wrote on the flower bouquet card. Enough so that Leah wouldn't say thank you to him or something.

Shit.

He deserved the disdain.

John I left something for you in my office, stop by before you go to the bar.

Nothing else.

John puts the phone in his jacket pocket and steps out of the original taking one last look at the wrapped book and note. He walks out of the base and leans against the wall, pulling out a cigar. The night is starry for November, light your cigar and wait.

(…)

Arrange the flowers on the desk. He laughs as he cuts small cuttings to fit inside a glass bottle on top of the clothing cabinet near the bedroom window.

That's too many daisies. But it's the most romantic, dullest thing anyone has ever done for her in her life, ever, ever, and she doesn't know where to hide the goofy smile on her face.

He takes the card in his hands again, giggling.

"Because you are the most beautiful woman in the whole world, adorable, charming, sensitive and tender and all those things, happy birthday sweetheart. Atte: JP"

You didn't have to be a fortune teller to know it was Allie, she was the only one who called him sweetheart. And knowing that John had asked Allie, Kate's wife, for help was something that still had her numb. Because then it meant that he had told Laswell and now he understood why he wanted to see her in his office tomorrow.

Anyway, he decides to leave that for later and looks at himself in the mirror on the wall before leaving. She's wearing that baggy red dress with white circles, black stockings underneath, and a leather jacket on top. A red scarf around her neck and her blonde hair down. Even though it's winter it's not that cold anyway.

Silence drifts down the halls and you knock on the door to John's office, opening it carefully and being surprised to not see him there.

However, his desk lamp illuminates a picture object in the middle of the table. He gets close enough to lean over the table and see a small note folded in two with his name written in that messy but at the same time perfect handwriting that characterized John's.

She takes the note:

Happy birthday, Leah. I hope you like it. Price.

It was kind of bland, but it was Price. And that made her smile nervously as she put the note in her jacket pocket and took the package to unwrap it. Her mouth opened and she smiled as she revealed a book "Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë". He began to look through it and realized that it was an old edition, one of the first editions.

It couldn't be.

She took the book and went outside, when she came out into the open air outside the base she heard John's voice not far from her.

"Love blinds but you have to see how much you brighten the eyes," John murmured, blowing the smoke from his cigarette to the side when Leah looked at him. She smiled and approached John slowly — you look beautiful Leah, but walking like that is dangerous. You could get sick.

—It's okay—she shrugged her shoulders, looking at him—Why are you here? I thought I was going to see you at the bar.

-I was waiting for you -.

-Yeah? —.

John nods and throws the cigarette butt on the floor, stepping on it with the sole of his shoe. He looks around, making sure no one sees him, and puts his arm around Leah, pulling her close. Before she speaks John has his lips on Leah's, moving them slowly as she wraps her arms around his neck. Their tongues intertwine, they dance with each other.

"God, how I've missed you," he murmurs, kissing her slowly while breathing heavily.

"You've been in that office all day," she caresses his neck, behind his ears, "and last night you didn't go to sleep with me."

—I've had a lot to do, I'm sorry—John lowers his face into Leah's neck, kissing and licking as he moans hoarsely—but right now I need you so much—his hands on her back went down and lightly squeezed Leah's butt— this pretty dress Mmm — she nibbles on her neck — Can I fuck you with it? —.

An involuntary moan escapes Leah and she closes her mouth, opening her eyes, looking around.

—Mmm y-yes —.

"Yes," he grunts with relief, "but then," John moves away from her a little agitated, "now we're going to go somewhere."

-To the bar?

John shakes his head taking Leah's book in his hands.

"No, not to the bar."

—But the boys…

—They're not going to miss us — Leah takes her book, holding it to her chest — Did you like the flowers? —.

—How did you know I liked daisies? —he says with a mischievous smile as John shrugs his shoulders—.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you, Allie helped me," he sighs, looking into her eyes a little scared, "I thought your birthday was next week, you can hate me if you want but I forgot." I'm not going to justify myself with work, it would be childish and I'm not.

—It's okay—he laughs—I understand John, nothing happens. Anyone can forget it.

—It won't happen again—he takes her hands—at least I remembered that you said that you always wanted to have a first edition of that book.

-You see? And I loved it — she kisses his cheeks — thank you.

—I'm going to make it up to you—he grabs her hand—Come—.

John drags her through the snow towards the parking lots, the front passenger of his truck helps her get in and starts the engine.

For a moment Leah looks at him not knowing what to say until she no longer wants to bite her lip.

—If you talked to Allie to…

"They know it, both of them." He looks at her out of the corner of his eye as he drives and Leah raises her eyebrows.

"Damn, that's why he wants to see me then," he tucks his hair behind his ears while looking out the window.

-Cup of tea? —.

—He wants me to go to the CIA tomorrow—they both look at each other—Did you tell him? —.

John shakes his head.

—I went to lunch with them last Saturday when you stayed at the base training the new ones and they read me like every day — he sighs, frowning — I guess I was too obvious or Allie is a witch —.

—I saw Allie on Saturday, I accompanied her shopping—they both look at each other again—.

John bursts out laughing as he moves the steering wheel with his hands. Leah bites her lips nervously.

—Well, it's okay — John put a hand on her legs — Do you want this to end? Are you worried that…? —.

"No," she almost screams, looking at him, "I don't want this to end," John Ma looks askance, trying to keep his eyes on the road, "I'm not worried about anything, I'll face it," he whispers.

—Leah…

-You are afraid? Do you want to finish it? —.

He shakes his head, tightening his fingers around her thigh.

"I don't want to," he whispers, "I don't want to be alone."

—You never will be, John—she keeps her gaze on him while he does it in a back-and-forth—.

He squeezes her thigh with his fingers and smiles slyly.

Several minutes later John parks the car on a street in London. He gets down to help Leah out and adjusts her jacket, pulling her to him for a kiss.

"You're very unsheltered," he murmurs against her lips. "Come here," he surrounds her waist with one of his hands, pressing her against him.

-Where you take me? —.

—You are a Yankee who spends most of her time at a base in London and who almost never goes out to the city to sightsee.

"But it's going to snow any minute," she looks up at him.

"That doesn't matter, doll, as long as you're with me nothing will happen to you." A hoarse laugh comes from her arms as she kisses the back of her head.

—And where are you taking me? —.

—The other day you told me that you had never been on the London Eye — he looks at her — now, you are on it — they turn down a street that stretches in front of them, surrounded by trees and Christmas lights and in the background the enormous and beautiful London Eye spinning so slowly with its lights and colors in the middle of the night.

"How cute he is," Leah squeals, raising her eyebrows.

—This time of year it's prettier, with the Christmas lights and all that —.

—Can we get on? - she asks excitedly -.

—Yes Leah, we can get on — John smiles and Leah grabs his hand and pulls him towards the London Eye.

(…)

—Look at the tower—Leah is pressed against the glass of the capsule while they rotate very slowly inside the Ferris Wheel—.

"That's Big Ben," John murmurs as if he were saying it to a little girl, he looks at her, resting his arm against the glass at his side and his other hand on Leah's back. "Seriously, Leah, how many years have you been here?" living in London and haven't gone out for a tour? —.

—Almost ten years—she looks out the window—I reached twenty here—.

"Yes, I remember," she looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

-Do you remember? —.

He reaches up to her back, brushing her hair away from her neck as he watches her curls fall down her back.

"No one could forget the beating that a rookie gave to Soap," he laughs.

"Yes," she laughs at the memory.

"But then you left with Laswell and didn't return after several years,"

—I liked working with her. But I love being on the base, the missions, the adrenaline — she leans on his shoulder — being with you.

—Mmm — he hugs her closer to him — yes, me too. It's been a long time since I… I didn't feel so well accompanied, you know?

-With me? You feel good with me? —she looks at him and John slides his lips over hers—.

"I love being with you," he whispers, "I don't feel alone Leah," John caresses her hair with one hand, slides his lips over hers, "I wish you would never leave me, you make this old man want to come back to life."

—John…

—You are so young and sweet… delicate and powerful that I feel like this is going to end in the blink of an eye and that I can't stop you. Because you're young and you should be sharing your time with someone your age and…

—I don't want anyone else—she furrows her eyebrows, making sure John looks her in the eyes—I'm not going anywhere. And if I'm going to separate from you it will be only while I wait for you to return to me after some mission or vice versa.

John's eyes are full of sorrow and anguish, fears that he is not able to let out. Because he's afraid that she really wants to leave.

Leah kisses him and smiles against his lips.

—Wait a minute, I have something else for you—John takes a small box out of his jacket pocket and puts it in Leah's small hands—open it.

Leah opens it with a goofy smile and then looks at it.

"John…" John takes the necklace from the box and unbuttons it.

“Turn around,” she does, brushing her hair to the side. John runs his hands over her shoulders, surrounding her neck with the thin chain of the necklace and adjusts it, he leans down to kiss the skin of her neck while she lets out a moan and turns around, touching the necklace with her fingers.

Margarita shines silver between her fingers as she looks at him with adoration.

"It's beautiful John."

He pulls her into his arms again.

"Happy birthday Leah," he whispers against her lips.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately as they spin on the Ferris Wheel.

(…)

—Shhh… — Leah murmurs as John kisses her against the wall outside her room — wait… — John hugs her from behind, his fingers eagerly shoved under her dress, tugging at her dark stockings — John…

-Hmm… -.

The task of opening the key is difficult when the big, tough man is carelessly handling it. But he finally manages to open the door. However, she can't get in when John grabs her hand and pushes her against the wall, grabbing one of her legs to put it around him while rubbing against her hips.

He kisses her with passion and hunger. All he has done from a certain point in his life is overcome any feelings he has, burying them deep inside. But with her he can't, with her he can't hide and he knows that he won't be able to continue doing it any longer.

He pulls away for a moment to look at her lips, lets his hands move to her neck and brings her to his mouth again. He wraps his arms around her pressing her against the wall and kisses her with desperate hunger.

His hands slide down her back and he buries his hands in her butt, pressing her against him while rubbing against her hips.

"I want you Leah," he murmurs against her ear, leaving a trail of saliva from his kisses along her neck. "She searches his face, responding forcefully, moaning against her mouth." You keep moaning like this, I'm going to cum in my pants, doll. " he growls, nibbling on her neck.

Leah's laughter fills the room as John picks her up and lays her on the bed with him on top of her, kissing her as he moves down her neck and caresses her breasts over her dress.

"Girl in red," she moans, lowering her mouth down her belly, "pretty white polka dots," she moans as she continues to go down and John lifts the dress from her hips to her belly, kissing her exposed skin, "let's get rid of this, okay?" — pulls her panties and stockings down her legs while still kissing the flesh. He takes off her boots and slides between her thighs again.

—J-John… — Leah clings to the sheets when John buries himself between her thighs, tasting her, moaning against her vaginal lips while he licks, bites and kisses her —.

Sensual sounds escape Leah's lips as he kisses her between her legs, rubbing his thick fingers around her clit as Leah loses control of herself.

—Mmmm honey — she moans while she feels that he is about to cum just from giving her pleasure — Fuck Leah — Leah trembles, her hand stops on John's head while her hips move against his mouth — mmm yes honey, you know delicious, shit.

Leah screams, a sensual scream that fills the room. John feels the taste of his orgasm in his mouth and moans as if he can't take it anymore. And as Leah tries to snap out of her trance she sits up, John's hips in front of her eyes as she pushes him off the bed.

—Leah W-what? —his voice dies in his throat when he sees her unbuckle his belt—.

Since they've been dating Leah has only had one thing on her mind. She has never had a cock in her mouth and having John's or imagining it has made her wet several times a day or night just thinking about it.

John trembles as she drops his pants and pulls down his underwear releasing his thick, long penis as she massages it in her small hands.

—L-Leah… — John's voice falters when he sees her open her mouth and closes her eyes, leaning her head against her back — Damn… —.

Leah licks him from the tip to the end as if he were ice cream, she has never done it with anyone before but her instinct and desire leads her to moan against his skin and veins.

"You have to tell me if I'm doing it right," he murmurs, kissing the tip of his penis while one of his hands goes up and down it.

—Y-you don't have to… you have to…

—I want to do it John —she opens her lips putting the tip in her mouth—I don't know if I can do it all but you have to practice…

John laughs as if his nerves betrayed him. And Leah licks it, taking it as much as she can into her mouth and the sensation makes her moan.

—Mmm Leah…

—Mmm… —he helps himself with one hand while he covers the rest with his mouth, licks and sucks with his eyes half closed over and over again—.

—M-doll… — John slides a hand under his chin, caressing his cheeks without looking — fuck… fuck… —.

-I do it well? — Leah murmurs quickly putting it back in her mouth, John moans and looks down at her, those huge eyes looking at him with his cock in her mouth makes him lose his mind. So he lifts her up carefully, kissing her desperately - But…

—You'll do it another day, hell I want to fuck you now Leah — he turns her against her back and pushes her slowly against the bed, she puts her hands and knees against the bedspread and John leans down kissing her neck — Can I fuck you in the doll dress ? Tell me yes, I'm begging you - he nibbles on his ear -.

"Please John."

John moans in response, pulling away slightly so he can kiss her back and nibble on her ass before fitting his cock between her folds and pushing into her slowly until he opens up just enough for him to hear her moan loudly.

—Are you okay, honey? —he murmurs, caressing her legs. She nods her face against the quilt, but John lifts her against his back. He takes off his shirt — you're so beautiful Leah — he moves his hips back and forth, his body panting, his chest purring for her — always so tight…

—Oh John…

The beats of his heart match, equalize as he kisses her neck and pushes against her in sensual movements.

—Mmmm—he moans loud and hoarse as he bites her ear and neck, leaving slight marks on her white skin. Her body moving against him in a constant rhythm.

John Price takes his time taking her, feeling her breasts in his hands as he grinds her against him, but feeling this animal instinct when he pushes her down, lifting her ass as her dress sways in front of him.

He rolls the fabric between his fingers and tugs at it as he pushes against her hips, moaning and softly exclaiming almost obscene words that mix with Leah's moans. He pulls away to turn her around, he needs to see her pretty face while he fucks her and grabs her, her hips and kisses her, sweat runs down his body and Leah's gestures make him lose his sanity. She drags her nails down John's back making his skin ripple and he groans.

They are a mass of sweat and skin and the dress is lying somewhere in the room as they move against each other.

Several minutes later John is spread out on the bed with one arm across his chest. Eyes glued to the ceiling, open as he tries to find his own breath. Leah is with her head on his chest, making movements with her fingers on John's chest.

"Happy birthday," he says barely in a whisper. His voice exhausted but still full of humor. The girl laughs and hugs him tighter.

Their eyelids become heavy and little by little they both fall completely asleep. The room is dark, the light from the street spotlights far beyond is all illuminated through the dark windows.

It starts to snow… and their breaths meet in the room, arms wrapped around warm bodies clinging to each other, like two pieces of a puzzle.

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