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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 days

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Into Your Arms. - Price x OC

|| [<- Part One] ||

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 4.3K~ cw: smut, piv sex (unprotected), car sex, unsafe sexual practices, pussy slapping, flirting, insults, banter, sexual innuendos/intentions, love confessions.

a/n: yes this is a musical fic/chapter thing and it's inspired by Into Your Arms by Ava Max and Witt Lowry.

Yeah, I don't mean to make you wait, just the pressure's been gettin' heavy

I know if I fuck us up, we'll be over, done, you'll forget me

They dated for a solid 4 months. 4 months straight of him driving over to see her both at work and out of it. With some small missions in between, but constant time together nonetheless.

Showing up at the military hospital with coffee, or a pastry, or a meal to-go, kissing her on the lips, strong hands gripping at the extra fat on her thighs or her ass or her tummy.

Taking her on fancier dates, dinners, films, tea and sweets, little gifts here in there, letting her drag him around the shopping centre, and swipe his card on the machine before she could.

Ending up in her bed more often than not, sneaking out the next morning, meeting her roommate, Molly Cole, on many of those mornings, only to have a message in his phone by noon complaining about how Molly goaded her over him having spent the night over again.

Meeting her friends, her meeting his. Going out together for drinks at the pub, and clubbing, watching her dance and drink, feeling her body against his, seeing her curves in those dresses, watching how she came close to his height in those tall heels of hers...

Only to have to leave, sent on a mission. Many months long... Uncertain of how long just a "Until it's done" promise.

Their relationship was too carefree for a label or title... and too fresh for a 'I'll wait for you'.

It caused a difficult conversation.

One he hadn't expected to go the way it did.

I'm feelin' bad that I act this way, 'cause you let me

They call me king, but I know my queen will be there to check me

A breeching of feelings that they never had to before.

Standing in her bedroom, she was getting dressed, while he stood in the ensuite bathroom, looking in the mirror.

"I don't know when I'll be back." He announced from over his shoulder.

"That's fine." She replied as she fastened her bra.

"No, you don't understand." He grunted as he turned to look at her.

He watched her reach over to grab a black camisole from the hanger.

"What don't I understand?" She asked as she glanced at him before throwing the camisole over her body.

"That I don't know if and when I'll be back... and I don't want you to wait." He leaned against the doorway, looking at her.

"You severely overestimate how invested I am in this, John." Kathleen said as she pulled her brown hair off from the accidental tuck inside her camisole.

"So you won't care that I go?" John asked her as he crossed his arms.

"Were you expecting me to?" She chuckled as she crossed her own arms, mirroring him.

"And you won't miss me, huh?" He teased.

"Nope." She replied nonchalantly.

"Won't even worry that I might die out there?"

"I hope you do, actually."

John rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You're a horrible woman."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, war criminal-" She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying, don't expect me to be waiting for you with open arms."

I'm out of my head, out of my mind

If you let me, I'll be out of my dress and into your arms tonight

Feels like I'm always waitin'

Kathleen is good at lying. Normally.

When John told her he had to go, and for the next three weeks, she acted as if she didn't care, as if she wouldn't and didn't miss him at all.

But it was slowly tearing her up from the inside out.

Whenever an SAS team was sent back and came into Tidworth for treatment, she'd stiffen up.

She'd run out to the helipad, rushing for the chopper and directing the other nurses and doctors and triage, and then she'd look around, amidst the chaos, wide-eyed and feral, as if expecting to find her boyfriend on a stretcher...

Was he even her boyfriend?

Had he ever been?

Two months came and went and it settled however. She started seeing other people, one-night stands (shameless ones), a couple of dates with blokes she found a bit too nice (boring)...

It was an earnest attempt at moving on.

Then he came back. She heard of it from others...

He didn't contact her for the first two weeks.

Acting like he was single, like he had been single this whole time.

Like she had been too, she guessed.

Yeah, I don't mean to make you wait or to contemplate about us

My ex, she loved to lie, guess that's why it's harder to trust

I been searchin' to find myself and not get too lost into lust

But she couldn't help but wonder if when he said 'don't wait for me', he really was just looking for an excuse not to continue dating her when he came back.

Then on the Saturday of week three, at 11 P.M., she received a text from him.

Big Bastard 🙄: "Can I come see you?"

And she let him.

She opened the door for him and he pushed his way inside, arms wrapped tight around her waist, a hand digging into her scalp, pressing her into the wall and claiming her mouth with a greedy kiss.

His tongue dug into her mouth like he was trying to stake claim on her from the inside out, pressing her body to his, her heavy breasts pushed tight against his muscular, nearly spilling out of her cami top as he groaned into her mouth.

They ended up tangled in each other's web again for two more months, having picked up right where they left off.

Going on dates again. Beach days, pool days, picnics, hikes, long drives, concerts and films.

Being all over each other, in each other's beds. In each other's arms.

Then he got another mission. Another 'don't know when I'll be back'.

Another 'I won't wait for you'.

But this time, when she said it, he saw through it.

He saw the look in her eyes. The exact opposite of the look of relief she had shown the day he came back into her life.

And he promised himself that when he did come back, he wouldn't reach out. That he wouldn't crawl his way back into her bed, her arms, her life.

If it was up to you now, you would be mine

I'm on the road more than I'm home, and still I find it's only you on my mind

He came back four months later. Early february.

And as he touched down and the helo lowered the back hatch, he stood there, with his arms crossed behind his back...

And he sought her out. As if expecting her to have somehow heard of him coming back, and would be there waiting.

When he left the base to hit up Hereford for a drink with his team, or his mates, he found himself missing the turn because the muscle memory to speed off to Tidworth was too much.

He'd be at the pub with his mates and look around, scanning the crowds of women with fake tans and skimpy dresses, as if look for those legs, that tummy, that set of tits.

You can't buy time with your money

And you love goin' to the beach whether it's cloudy or sunny

He'd go down to the shopping centre to get a new shirt or pants or shoes, and he'd pass by a window and take note of what in there he could buy to surprise her with.

He'd find a new restaurant she'd have wanted to try, a local shelter advertising a cat for adoption, her friends posting pictures with her on social media...

And he'd open her contact on his phone and his fingers would type a message...

Kat 😾 John: been thinking about you x

He couldn't reach out to her though, he couldn't. Not when she's that attached to him. Not when she needs him to stay, to be hers, to make promises and uphold them.

And you love drinkin' all your wine until it hurts in your tummy

You call me, "Honey, I'm tipsy and really all I want is for you to love me"

And then at 0200 hours, in one of the nights where he was out for a drink, his phone rang. He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw her name on the screen.

"Yeah?" He greeted once he picked up, after having stepped out of the pub and standing in the dark and cold street under the pub awning.

"John..." She murmured, sounding whiny on the other side of the line.

"Kat..." He returned the greeting. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you." She whimpered into the line with a huff.

He knew that tone. It was the tone she always had when they'd go out together and she'd get pissed.

"We can't do this, Kat."

"John..." She whined.

Needy, soft, desperate to be held, to be kissed, to be fucked.

Fuck, how he missed her.

"Where are you?" He ended up asking her.

That's all it took. A drunk call, a messy drunk kiss as he helped her into bed, cuddling all night.

That's all it fucking took.

And then they ended up tangled in each other's web, once again.

Five months.

Dates, birthdays, a vacation overseas to Portugal, and sort of, but not really, pondering about moving in together.

And then he got called for another mission.

And as he sat her down again, this time, they breached it much differently than the other times.

Because this time, he had a timeline. Somewhere between six months and a year and a half.

"I'm not waiting for you." She told him directly, before he even had time to say anything.

He swore the ring box in his pocket was burning a hole through the fabric and onto his skin.

He just clenched his jaw and nodded. "That's your choice, then."

"It is." She replied. "Easier for the both of us."

"Right."

And so he went and, as assumed, he came back nine months later.

And he tried. He tried. He tried to fucking stay away. He really did...

For two fucking days after touching down.

But his hands itched to touch her, his arms longed to wrap around her, his body felt colt and alone in his twin bed in the barracks;

His ears itched to hear her mewl and croon as he worked her sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips;

His soul itched to argue with her, to watch and hear her fight him, to witness her preen when she delivered a devastating insult, only to be hit with one back, to watch the smirk on her lips and the shine in her eyes as they challenged each other;

He missed her sitting pretty in his passenger seat, he missed her pulling him by the arm in public like a dog on a lead, he missed her being vocal when someone pissed her off, he missed surprising her at work with food and drink, he missed being sent out at night because she ran out of fags, he missed keeping a change of clothes in her closet, and a spare key in his pocket, he missed the looks men would give him when he walked around with a beautiful woman like her hanging off his arm...

He missed the dulcets of her voice even when she raised it.

He missed the scent of her shampoo, and her perfume, and her lotion.

He missed the red lipstick stains she'd leave all over his face.

He missed her.

I know I need to tell you, I care before it's too late

Before someone steps to the plate

Before you decide not to wait

Before you decide not to chase

So, like a bloody coward, he showed up at her flat door at 2000 on a Saturday, finding Kathleen's roommate, Molly Cole.

"She's not home, John."

"Is she having a shift at the hospital? That's fine, I don't mind waiting all night if I have to."

"No, she's on a date."

He felt his blood run cold.

No way in fucking hell was he letting another man have Kathleen.

He didn't care how pathetic it made him look.

So, after getting the information of where she was and with whom, John took off after her.

The text pinged Kathleen's phone while she was halfway through talking to her date.

A nice bloke named Edward, with whom she'd been on dates a couple of times by now. He wasn't completely boring though she had yet to feel the spark.

Probably because every bloke she'd go on dates with between John leaving for deployment and coming back would always get compared to John.

Big Bastard 🙄: I'm outside. Leave him and let me take you home.

She glanced at it and only answered after asking for a moment from Edward, claiming it to be her roommate.

Kat 😾: I'm not leaving.

Big Bastard 🙄: Either you leave or I'll go in there and take you back myself.

Kat 😾: I'd love to see you try.

She didn't know what she was saying. Not really. She always loved to play games with John in the past, to taunt him and goad him and tease him until his buttons were pushed too far and he acted.

But they had never had a moment like this.

One where the door of the restaurant was pulled open by John, and he marched inside, still in uniform, right up to her table, eyes locked on her, like a predator zeroed in on its prey.

And she had no intentions of running away.

He came up to her and grabbed her by the forearm, yanking her up and out of her seat, causing the cutlery to rattle against the plate.

"What is this? What do you think you're doing?" Edward spoke up as he got up as well, as if he could somehow stop this from happening.

John shot a look at Edward, a glare that could make most men freeze in the spot, as he grabbed her coat and draped it over his free arm, same with her purse.

"Your date is over." John said bluntly as he stared at Edward. "She won't be calling you again."

Then he walked off, pushing Kathleen along toward the door, carrying her things for her, as he dragged her toward the car.

Kathleen was almost ashamed to admit how much she had enjoyed that display of caveman-like possession on his part.

Hell, it turned her on.

But that didn't mean that she would just lay down and take it.

No, John, despite everything, had no right to do this. To come waltzing back into her life as he so pleased, acting as if he had a claim to her.

And she was going to make sure he knew it.

As John got into the driver's seat after having helped her into the passenger's, and began driving off, she threw a hand at him and started hitting him in the arm.

"How bloody dare you?!" Kathleen raised her voice as she hit him repeatedly, fists slamming into his arm and shoulder in such a way that he knew in the morning he'd have bruises.

Heavy handed she always was. Just like him. She'd leave him bruises and bleeding, he'd leave her bruises and crying. After sex, that is.

"Stop that, Kat, I swear to God." John grunted as he moved his arm a bit to try and catch her hands and stop her from hitting him.

"What do you think you're doing, ruining my date like that and... kidnapping me like a... Neanderthal?" She continued scolding him and hitting him, dodging his attempts at grabbing her.

"I didn't kidnap you, shut your fucking gob for once, you cunt." He told her. "You're acting as if I threw you over my shoulder while you were kicking and screaming. I just walked ya out!"

"It doesn't matter! You have no fucking right to do that, I was enjoying myself!"

"Like hell you were!" John shouted as he suddenly hit the brakes, pulling the car over to the side of the secluded road they were on, and turning swiftly to face her. "Say that again."

Kathleen went quiet as she glared at him and him and her, chests rising and falling, breaths erratic.

"Go on. Say it again. Say you were enjoying yourself." He goaded her. "Say you were truly and whole-heartedly enjoying yourself. Say it and I'll take you back there."

She continued staring at him. She was normally a great liar, an excellent one, a great poker face, quick at coming up excuses...

And sure she had been enjoying herself... just fine during that date. Maybe... maybe not as much as she would with John. But better than the others.

But she knew she couldn't lie about it this time. So she just huffed and muttered a 'Fuck you, John'. Her brown eyes jumpy and erratic, flicking between his blue ones.

"Oh, is that how it is?" He asked her with a cocked brow as he pulled the break on the car and then leaned over the centre console toward her. "A 'fuck you' is what I get?"

"Yeah, it's what you get." She replied with a sharp nod, her brows furrowing in anger and frustration.

"Well, then, fuck you too, sweet'art." He replied as got right in her face, both of them staring deep into the other's eyes like they were seconds away from throwing fists.

"Oh, I already know everything about how you want me to go fuck myself, Jonathan." The brunette told him and, for once, her voice quivered for a moment.

Vulnerability. He never thought he'd see the day.

"I've never wanted that." John said while shaking his head. "You're the one that always says you're not going to wait for me and you don't care about me going on deployment, Kat. So who's really making who go fuck themselves?"

"I do that for you, you bloody fucking idiot." Kathleen spat in a vitriol tone as she glared at him. Then, she turned her face and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh what? Do you? And how's that?" John confronted her as he leaned his head over so he could get back in her line of sight. "By acting like you don't care about me? About us?"

Kathleen's head snapped toward him again, eyes widened. "Oh, so there's an 'us' now, is there?" She asked with nothing if not disbelief in her voice.

"There always was an us." John replied as he glared at her. "Never fucking wanted anyone else. And you can't tell me you've wanted anyone else either."

"Oh piss off. You think I don't know what you soldiers do when you're overseas?" She goaded and nodded upward in an act of challenge. "I'm an Army nurse, John, not a civvy."

"I won't lie and say I didn't get involved with other women overseas." John told her point blank. "Just like you can't day you didn't get involved with other men either." He raised his brows, which caused her her grimace and nod.

"But we both know what the fuck that was. And what it meant. And where it stands compared to us."

"Oh don't give me that bloody 'us' bullshit." She grumbled and rolled her eyes. "You don't like me all that much, and I don't like you all that much."

John reached forward and gripped her around the jaw, tugging her face toward him, before looking right into her eyes.

"I might not. And you might not." He nodded as he stared into her eyes. "But it drives me fucking mental to not have you with me. I think about you every fucking day."

Her lips parted for a moment as he continued. "I want you by my side and not some other wanker that you know doesn't do it for you the way I do." He warned her, his eyebrows setting low over his blue eyes, causing them to darken.

"You're such a bastard, you know that?" Kathleen told him, eyes widened and pupils blown as she glared into his eyes too.

"I know. And you're such a cunt." John grunted in reply.

They stared at each other silently for another moment before they both lunged forward and kissed, their hands finding their way amidst each other's hairs.

John slid his seat back as far as it could go and then lowered the backrest all the way until the headrest was flush against the backseat.

He flipped him and Kathleen over, breaking the kiss for just a moment in order to slot her beneath him on the driver's seat.

He parted her legs and rolled up the hem of her little black dress, exposing her backside and cunt to him again.

"Fucking slag, not even wearing underwear..." He grunted at the sight of her cunt, deliciously wet and glistening in the orange light provided by the street lamps above.

"Fuck you, John. I had a date." She complained.

"Of course, how could I forget... You never wear knickers for those, do ya? Never did with me." He goaded.

Slipping off her high heels, he tossed them haphazardly onto the backseat as he slotted one of her feet on the ledge of the driver's side window, the other over his shoulder.

"You're still in bloody uniform, you want to talk?" She pointed out, which earned her glistening cunt a smack from his calloused fingers. "Shut your gob."

Hissing, she rolled her eyes and lifted a hand at him, flipping him off, which caused him to growl under his breath and slap her pussy again, making her squirm beneath him.

"Bloody hell... I missed that cunt of yours..." He grunted as he ran his fingers over her folds affectionately, collecting some of the wetness before he slipped them into his mouth, for a taste of her, due to lack of a better position for it.

The groan that came from him after tasting her again was obscene. "How'd I go almost a whole year without tasting you?" He complained.

Kathleen bit her lip to hide that smirk that wanted to take over her lips, trying to act like she was still unbothered by it. By him.

"D'she miss me too, da'lin'?" John asked her with a cocked brow as he got busy undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

"No." Kathleen lied with a shrug. "Been keeping her awfully busy." She remarked nonchalantly.

"Right..." John said as he pulled down his boxer briefs, allowing for his hardened cock to spill out, too heavy to bounce back against his stomach, and instead hanging low, the head already brushing against her glistening cunt.

"But none of those knobheads you've been getting busy with are me, now, are they?" He teased.

And, before she could come up with a scathing, hurtful comment about how the others were better, which John could anticipate her doing, he plunged his cock balls deep into her in one swift motion, causing her to let out a startled, choked sound.

As he bottomed out inside her, feeling like he was home again, he leaned over her, pressing his weight forward on her leg and folding her over herself.

"That's it..." He grunted, pulling his hips back barely an inch before thrusting them forward again, causing a squeak to escape his woman's plump lips as his cock stretched her full.

"John..." She whined, one hand leaving a handprint on the glass window beside her, the other with the arm wrapped over the centre console of the car for support.

"Yeah, call my name." He demanded and hissed through his teeth before he pulled a few more inches back and then thrusted back in, his cock stretching her sinfully and his cock head pounding into her cervix.

Kathleen squirmed and gasped, feeling every inch of his thick cock push and pull across her gummy walls, his heavy balls beginning to steadily slap against her ass as he pounded into her.

One of his hands found its way around her neck, squeezing the sides as the other gripped the top of the driver's seat for support, allowing him to continue in his filthy avenue: taking her for all she's worth.

"Fuckin' ell, Katy..." He grunted as he looked down at her, the way her mouth hung open with desperate gasps and little whines escaping her.

Digging her nails into the leather cover of the console next to her, she whined in delight, already breathing heavy even if he wasn't actually squeezing her throat.

"I can never have enough of you." John grunted, his head rubbing against the plush interior ceiling of his car with each thrust of his.

"Look at me." He demanded, her brown eyes flittering to find his blue ones, the pupils wide and dark. "Keep your eyes on me..." He huffed.

Nodding, Kathleen continued making eye contact with John, though she was so overwhelmed by pleasure that she couldn't necessarily focus.

"Fuck... I swear... It's like you love when I call you a cunt... when we argue... You always get so fucking wet..." John grunted through clenched teeth and ragged breaths, his ears honing in on the filthy sound of his cock plunging into her dripping cunt.

"You'll be the bloody death of me, Kathleen..." He grunted as he leaned forward and caught her mouth with his, sucking her lips greedily.

Their tongues slipped out of their mouths and met in the middle, the both of them nearly drooling from the intense pleasure, eyes falling closed as they panted and moaned, muffling each other and trading saliva.

"I love you..." Kathleen moaned as she looked up into his eyes, which caused John to groan, eyes rolling back, before letting his head fall forward to hide his face in her neck.

"Fuck..." John moaned in her ear. "Tell me again... tell me you love me."

"I love you, John..." Kathleen whined, causing him to hiss again.

"Again."

"I love you..."

"Oh, fuck... I love you too..."

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