#aveswrites

[avangeline222]

˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹. mornings with frank langdon

the pitt : anxious attachment!frank x reader

wc: 0.8k

warnings: mentions of rehab, reliance on a partner, anxious attachment, divorce mentioned

notes: post rehab frank, robby mention, mention of abby/frank divorce, hints of a previous unhealthy relationship with abby

His alarm went off at 4:30am for his morning shift, the same time every morning. It never seemed to feel any easier for him to wake up, untangle himself from you and slip out of the fresh sheets. He was so anxious about being far from you ever since rehab, it was like it he couldn't be himself without you.

He gently pawed at his phone on the bedside table to turn off the alarm before turning back to you so he could sleepily wrap his arms around you. His nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he held you tightly, savouring every moment before his next alarm could go off.

You slowly stirred and ran your fingers over his hair and mumbled, “Frankie…” but he protested by gently kissing your chin and smiling, his whole body pressed to yours.

“5 more minutes…” He whispered, his fingers gently rubbing your back as he shifted closer under the sheets to tangle his legs with yours.

The early morning chill was rife in your apartment so his chest felt warm against you as he shifted closer and closer, a sleepy smile on his face.

His next alarm went off, which you shifted to turn off, but he didn’t get up. Instead he took your chin to give you a sleepy kiss, tender and gentle, before pulling back to whisper, “I love you, angel…” It was as if he’d missed you in his sleep.

With genuine love and affection, you held his face and whispered, “I love you too, baby…but you need to get up and ready for work otherwise you’ll be told off again…” before giving him a quick kiss.

He just huffed and rolled out of bed, slowly shuffling to the bathroom. It was probably record time for the slowest he could get ready, but it was sweet watching him dig his heels in and drag out his morning.

After an hour or so, he finally sat at the edge of the bed, stroking your hair as he whispered, “I’m going now…” as he resisted the urge to crawl back into bed beside you. Feeling that same ache in his chest he got every morning.

You just nodded sleepily and murmured, “Your lunch is in the fridge, your flask’s on the draining board…it’s cold, take a jacket…” Causing him to smile and nod. You were always so sweet and thoughtful, helping him stay organised on the days where he couldn't.

He sat there admiring you for a moment before leaning down to kiss your forehead whispering, “Have a good day, baby…I’ll ring you if I get a break…” in a soft tone.

In a slightly clumsy, sleepy movement, you guided him closer to properly kiss him, lips pressed to his and fingers in his hair. Lovingly, he reciprocated the kiss, letting his fingers rove over you as he whined softly into your lips.

He had to pull back slightly to whisper, “Don't want to go yet, baby…” as you looked genuinely anxious about leaving you. It made your heart ache seeing him so distressed, so you sat up in bed.

“C’mere Frankie…” you whispered as you let him curl into you for a moment, checking the bedside clock to see he should really be leaving now. You held him tightly and pressed kisses to his hair, whispering, “I’ll be home when you get back, I’ll be here the whole time…you have to go to work…”

He nodded and just tightened his arms around you whispering, “I’m going…just don't leave whilst I’m there, need you here when I come home…” It was evident this was one of his bad days, the feeling of abandonment from his relationship with Abby, the quiet need for security, and his desire to stay close.

You nodded softly whispering, “I’ll be right here, we’ll order takeout tonight or have pancakes…I’ll find a film for us to watch,” and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead and mumbled, “Ring me on your lunch break and tell Robby you're having a bad day, okay?”

Frank finally nodded and pulled back, his gaze holding yours as he snuck a kiss to your cheek and mumbled, “Okay…” as he squeezed your hand and stood up.

You watched him walk out of the bedroom, and listened to his footsteps down the stairs, through the first floor to collect his things before the front door closed. With a sigh, you laid there and blinked back tears for Frank and reached for your phone.

You sent two texts that morning, one to Frank reading: “I love you, Frankie. You’re so brave, I know this morning was difficult for you but I know you can do it, I’ll be right here when you get home x”

The second was to Robby: “Frank had a bad morning, tried to sort it before he left but he’ll need you today.”

And then, you put your phone on the nightstand and fell asleep on Frank’s side of the bed and clutched the duvet, counting down until he’d be back home.

author's note: hello lovies!! this is the first I've written in a while (apologies) life has been all over the shop but found some time to write this, I hope you enjoy it and please do give it a cheeky like and reblog if you fancy showing some support!! x

[avangeline222]

Arthur Morgan who…

just a little collection of ideas I have drafted for inspiration but I decided to make a little series out of…who shall I do next? - just clearing out the drafts whilst I'm on holiday and I found this, I have written a few more to try and get back into my rdr1/2 content as I have sort of been slacking with them but I'm hoping to be writing a bit more when I'm home and have more time for it again 🫶

Arthur Morgan who wakes you up with a kiss on the cheek every morning, letting you slowly wake up to the feeling of his chapped lips on your cheek as well as his moustache brushing your soft skin.

Arthur Morgan who writes about you constantly in his journal; “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, even when she’s working hard to help the others I just want to pull her close and look after her for once.”

Arthur Morgan who loves to cuddle you, no matter what job he’s supposed to be doing, he’d always find an excuse to have his arms secured around you and your body close to his chest.

Arthur Morgan who would pull you close under the stars and slowly dance with you to the sound of Dutch’s music playing for him and Molly. “Well you’re quite the dancer, Mister Morgan” you’d tease softly only for him to reply, “Only for you, darlin’...”

Arthur Morgan who would keep a small ribbon or handkerchief in his pocket to remind him of you whilst out on jobs, his way of keeping you close.

Arthur Morgan who would cry in your arms at night when the world got too much for him to handle, all he ever did was help everyone else but no one ever returned the favors so on nights where it was overbearing he would lay on your chest and sob quietly, letting you baby him and piece him back together.

Arthur Morgan who tells everyone your his wife, “Tha’s m’wife there…” and “Don’ch’u talk to m’wife like tha’ again…” become his favourite phrases.

Arthur Morgan who calls you every pet name under the sun; “Darlin’ can you c’mere,”... “What you doing there, princess?”... “Sweetheart, can y’help me?”... “Sugar, are you busy?”... “Oh come on honey…let me kiss it better?”

Arthur Morgan who asks you to marry him, proper and in front of God, after spending a weekend camping and hunting as he knew that was all he wanted for the rest of his life.

Arthur Morgan who notes down all the places he wants to build a homestead for you both, window shopping at ranches as he passed by and eventually finds the perfect place for you both to live.

Arthur Morgan who saved a stash of money to buy the ranch and clear his name for you both to finally live in peace and find a real home.

Arthur Morgan who loved the idea of becoming a father again, so when you told him you wanted a baby he was fully on board and started building a nursery.

Arthur Morgan who fell to his knees in tears and kissed your stomach as you whispered the words, “Honey…I’m pregnant…” and healed his heart forever.

[avangeline222]

♡ ྀི˖ home comforts

Simon doesn't understand your home comfort, so when he lashes out about it you realise he needs to find his own comfort...

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

rating: pg

warnings: sad simon, he's miserable and mardy but he literally just needs a hug bless him

a/n: just a little thought I'd had at work x

Simon Riley has never understood the phrase ‘Home Comforts’ before, until he met you.

A sweet and bubbly recruit, always smiling and being kind despite being one of the most hardworking soldiers in the task force. A constant comfort to most people, sharing affection and little tokens from home. Simon always brushed it off and ignored you, until you were stationed on a mission together.

You were staying in a tent in the middle of now where, yet you bought your favourite tea bags, had a photo of your family in your pocket and secretly wore a pair of fluffy socks. He thought it was silly, but deep down he wished that he understood.

Over time, he began to notice the same behaviors of yours around the base. Bringing small tokens or items of comfort, finding love and nostalgia in little bits and pieces.

˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹.

Cut to a few months later, when the pair of you were sharing a hotel room for Price’s birthday weekend, he noticed it more. Gaz and Johnny had claimed a room, leaving you and Simon together, you didn't mind but he seemed hesitant.

You just smiled and unpacked your small suitcase for the weekend, pulling out a dressing gown to wear and your own fluffy socks. You curled up under the covers and reached for the blanket you bought with you and smiled up at Simon.

“Stop looking like that, I love my home comforts…” You murmured softly as he stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, empting the few items in his backpack.

Suit for the event. Pyjamas. Toothbrush. Jeans. Tshirt. Underwear. Socks. Shoes. Deodorant.

Nothing else.

He ignored you and shifted into the bathroom to change into his pyjamas. A pair of navy pyjamas bottoms and a matching button up shirt. It was similar to your own pink, silk button up set that smelled of your candles in your bedroom, your washing detergent and your favourite perfume. Reminders of home.

He walked back in and grabbed a pillow, and laid himself on the floor next to you. No blanket, no chatting, not cuddling, no laughing.

He just laid down on the floor like a dog.

“Si?” You murmured softly as you leant over the edge of the bed to look at him. Propped up on your elbow with an out of character frown on your face.

He just grunted and didn't move.

You leant down and gently ran your fingers over his clothed arm, over his covered tattoos and scars.

“Si…why are you on the floor?” you asked quietly before adding, “Do you want me to see if I can book another room so you can have the bed?”

“No…just go to sleep,” He grumbled, you huffed and draped your blanket over him as you shifted to the edge of the bed and gently rubbed his arm. He didn't pull away but he pushed the blanket away and huffed.

“Fuck off,” He muttered before sitting up to shove the blanket on your lap, scowling through his mask.

You scowled, a change from your usual softness, and pulled your blanket around you. “What's got your knickers in a twist, Simon Riley?” you questioned harshly, but no where near any way that could hurt his feelings.

He just sighed and gestured to you, tucked up in bed in your pretty pajamas, hair all soft and silky, a sleep mask on your head, with your favourite stuffed animal beside you.

You raised an eyebrow and murmured, “Si…what's wrong?” seeing how his gaze softened when he watched you in bed, your own gaze becoming sympathetic.

“This home comforts bollocks you always go on about…I don't understand it.” He grumbled, still sat on the floor with the pillow next to him.

You leant forward gently and eased up his mask, “It's just little things that remind me of home…my little house, near the sea…with my Ma and Pa down the road…my Grandma in the village…all the little things that make me feel warm…”

He sat there, now without his mask, and tears brimming in his eyes. He gently reached for the blanket and thumbed at the soft, fluffy texture.

“Si…come and lay with me…” You murmured softly as you shifted over to welcome him, gently draping the duvet and soft blanket over him. With a soft smile you found a comfortable spot next to him and held your stuffed animal.

He just stared tearfully and whispered, “I want it…that bollocks…all the comfort shite…” His arm brushed against yours, causing tingles to run up and down his clothed biceps.

You nodded softly and gently shifted closer, “You can share mine…we'll find you some home comforts, love…” Your side was close against his now, making him feel warm and almost relaxed.

You tenderly guided one of his hands to your stuffed animal as you rested on him and started to quietly hum. A song from your childhood, another little home comfort.

He relished in the sound of your singing as he rested his head on yours and petted the stuffed animal as quiet, secret tears spilled down his scarred and burned cheeks. The tears pooled in your silky tresses, creating a tender bond between you both.

You woke up the next morning to him nosing at your cheek in his sleep, clutching you and your stuffed animal close to him as he snored softly and drooled through the gap in his top lip that he was so scared to show others, that you realised was one of the things that made him so beautiful.

It was in that moment that you realised that maybe you could become his home comfort.

taglist: @arthur-morgans-wife @superunkn0wn (sorry the taglist didn't save originally!!)

[avangeline222]

The secret wives of the 141 ˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹.

fluffy blurbs of the 141 boys finding out the other has a secret wife or girlfriend, just pure fluff and sweetness maybe more to come?? (yes I did make them all sweet and sappy because it's cute okay?)

0.4k wc each-ish of tooth rotting fluff so no warnings

John Price: his sort-of-wife ˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹.

“You lads fancy coming to a wedding w’me…open bar and whatnot near my place on the beach?” John asked one morning as they drove along a motorway in John’s battered land rover that was full of mud, sand and tactical gear.

Johnny nodded and continued to rest his head on the window of the passenger seat and he dipped in and out of sleep. Ghost just shrugged and replied, “Sure…when is it?”

“Well she wants it in the summer so it can be near the beach house, plus it means her sister and her kids can be there…so when the kids break up for summer?” Price contemplated as he drove the car down the exit to the country late.

Johnny sat up straight after this and whipped around to Gaz and Ghost who were staring blankly at Price.

Gaz broke the silence though, “John, mate…who's wedding is it?” as if trying to confirm his suspicions.

Price just chuckled and said, “Mine and my wife’s…but she hates that I call her m’wife and we're not married yet...so I'm marrying her, plus then we can have a baby.” as if it was the most casual sentence. The three men were left baffled with a hundred different questions.

“Since when have you had a missus?” Gaz teased as Johnny laughed and Simon shrugged and smirked.

“He’s been with her for ages mate, have you not seen the sappy photo of them both in his pocket?” Simon nonchalantly stated as he leant over to reach for the photo in Price’s pocket at he drove the battered car down the lane.

“Oi…you little shit,” Price scolded as Simon nicked the photo and passed it to Johnny and Gaz. It was a polaroid of you and Price, his lips against your cheek and your smile brighter than the stars in the background.

You were beautiful, stunning, Price’s dream girl and god were the boys surprised at how truly wonderful you looked. You looked sweet and loving, and completely perfect to Price.

“When can we meet her?” Johnny asked desperately, like a child wanting to see his mother, and that’s exactly what it was. Their father figure had finally found his love and they all needed to see if they approved.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: opposites attract? ˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹.

“Just want m’wife…” He grumbled in a huff as the van pulled up to the car park, most of their families had arrived to pick them up. Johnny’s mum and his several siblings were lingering in the car park waiting for him, Gaz’s mum and dad were standing chatting with Johnny’s family whilst Price’s daughter and her new boyfriend waited patiently. But, Simon never usually had anyone waiting.

“Me bloody too,” Price chuckled sarcastically, “We’ll go down the pub and meet some birds on leave if you want mate?”

“I’ll be there, can't be babysitting the littlens all leave,” Johnny chuckled as he leant over to nudge Gaz, “You’ll be there mate we all know y’not getting y’dick wet back ‘ome.”

This earned him a shove and a quiet, “yeah a’ight I’ll be there.” from Gaz. But, Simon just huffed and shook his head before fixing his mask back into place and getting out the car.

“I won't be there, mate” He directed at Price as they pulled their luggage out of the van and walked over to the others, “Got m’wife waiting for me, need to be home f’me dinner.”

The guys sort of looked at him before looking at each other, Price was the only one who could find his words.

“Wife?” He questioned gently, “Simon, son, who's y’wife?” His tone was quiet and calm as if trying not to scare Simon. But, it was like you knew they were speaking of you as you drove into the car park and quickly parked and hurried over to him.

“Si…Simon!” You called lovingly as you threw your arms around him, letting him drop his suitcase to lift you up and into his arms, “Missed you baby…sorry I’m late, got stuck in traffic after I went grocery shopping so took me a while to get home and all the way here.”

“...’s okay, lovie…you’re ‘ere now, missed you so much,” He grumbled lovingly before pulling back to let you coax his mask up to give him a soft kiss. Your quiet and sweet demeanour contrasted him completely, your sundress was an opposition of his tactical gear and your soft, pink lips were worlds away from his own chapped lips.

“Sorry, I probably shouldn't be smooching you in front of your soldiers…can't be letting them know my baby’s soft…” You murmured quietly but they all heard and just stared.

“Fookin’ ‘ell, Si…” Johnny managed to breathe out as he watched you cling to Simon and keep calling him sweet, sweet endearments.

Gaz just coughed and stared blankly before grabbing his suitcase and giving them some space.

But Price, he was a menace. “Aye, Si is this y’wife then…she's a pretty little thing, let me see the ring sweetheart?” His voice was smooth and calm as he offered a hand to see your wedding ring.

“Oh, you must be John right?” You giggled nervously as you gave him your hand, “Only engaged…still planning the wedding but hopefully before the years out?”

Simon just nodded along before murmuring, “Whatever makes you happy, lovie…you plan it and I’ll turn up.” Earning him a smile from you and a chuckle from Price.

Price leant in and gave you a hug before whispering, “Look after m’lad, yeah love?” to which you nodded profusely before turning to pull Simon closer whispering endless “I love yous” and “I missed yous”

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish: sweet baby boy ˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹.

“Mmm…I love y’too baby” Johnny mumbled sleepily down the phone as he layed on the sofa of Price’s house. He had been on a night out with Price, Gaz and Simon and now they had all crawled into Price’s small house to sleep and nurse their hangovers. And, Johnny being Johnny was off his face.

“Who the fuck are you on the phone to?” Gaz chuckled, almost a giggle as he leant over Johnny, “Y’didn’t speak to a single girl tonight so who are you lovin’ on?”

You softly laughed down the phone and replied, “Johnny, baby…is that your friend, are you safe lovely?”

Gaz smiled even brighter and grabbed at Ghost’s sleeve to pull him over. He was completely in awe of Johnny’s drop of information.

“Aye, ‘s Gaz…Si’s on the floor, Price ‘s throwing up or making a cuppa, dinnae say.” He mumbled down the phone whispering, “Can y’come over baby, need a kiss goodnight…and y’sweet teas and a biscuit, need to cuddle ma lassie…”

Gaz and Simon sat staring in pure shock as their friend kept rambling. He was absolutely drunk and begging for his secret girlfriend to drive to Price’s house from god knows where to give him a goodnight smooch?

They both heard her laugh down the phone and murmur, “It’s a 2 hours drive my love, I’m sure your friends can look after you…I’ll pick you up in the morning and I’ll bring you home, baby?”

He sighed quietly and whispered, “Okay…just too long to wait, love y’so much my bonnie lassie…” and bought the phone to his chest is if trying to cuddle up to you.

Gaz sighed and gently peeled the phone from his hands and spoke softly down the line, “Hey, I’m Gaz…Johnny’s mate, he’s well drunk and half asleep so I’ll sort him out for you.”

You chuckled softly and replied, “Of course just keep my boy safe and help him with his hangover tomorrow and I’ll drive to pick him up…thanks, Gaz.”

Gaz chuckled and ended the call, settling the phone on the table for him to find in the morning. Little did he know they all now knew about his lassie back home.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick: the missus ˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹.

“She’s dead bonnie, Gaz…go talk to ‘er.” Johnny urged as the group of lads sat at a table in a local bar, John was chatting up a lady at the bar and Simon was sitting close to Johnny, anxiously glancing around the room.

“Nah, the missus wouldn't appreciate that, mate.” He replied nonchalantly as he took a swig of his beer and carried on watching John shamelessly flirting with the woman.

Johnny chuckled and shook his head but Simon quickly asked, “Who the fuck is your girlfriend?” which earned him a sigh from Gaz.

“Just some girl I met before I joined the army, we went to school together,” He explained flippantly before pulling his phone from his pocket. He found the FaceTime app and rang you as he sipped his beer.

As soon as you answered he smiled, “Hey, baby…sorry I know you're probably in bed but my team don't think you’re real…” His voice was soft and gentle as he cooed so lovingly.

“It's okay, honey…just finished Love Island, making a cuppa and going to read for a bit before bed, when are you coming home?” You murmured softly as you propped the phone up to wave at his friends on the call.

“Not too long now, baby…I won't bother staying out too late, I’ll be home a little after midnight okay?” He cooed softly as he smiled in a love struck manner before showing the camera to Johnny and Simon.

“Okay, I love you…be safe and I’ll see you soon.” You replied softly before blowing a kiss and letting him show you to his friends one last time before hanging up.

They both sat in shock before Simon murmured, “Fair enough, mate…” and Johnny just nodded in agreement.

“That’s my missus, yeah?” Gaz stated, “No other bird is anywhere near her in any way, so no I’m not talking to her at the bar because I have her waiting for me at home.”

Johnny just nodded and murmured an apology.

taglist: @arthur-morgans-wife

[avangeline222]

simon 'ghost' riley x price's daughter ˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹

wc: 0.8k

warnings: petnames (love, lovie, little missy, missus, baby), kissing, cuddling, physical affection, mention of intimacy, inexperienced!simon, soft!simon, sweet!simon, soap cameo (and he's a bit cocky soz guys), gaz cameo (anxious gaz 4 life)

a/n: I love sweet and shy simon, this man is definitely quiet and awkward with girls but I can imagine hin being all cute and gentle in a secret relationship, also he would be the best son in law Price could ask for lets be honest - a snippet from an upcoming collection!

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

"You pair need to remember she's my daughter, we're not in a pub and you're not to try anything with her...she's my little girl." John huffed in exhaustion as he sipped his bottle of beer on the decking of his rural cabin by the English coast. An anxious Gaz and a an unbothered Soap sat in from of him.

"Of course...I'm sure there's plenty of other girls around, Captain..." Gaz mumbled anxiously as he fiddled with his empty bottle of beer. He had no intention of trying anything on with Price's daughter, but the idea of disappointing him was nerve wracking for him.

Soap on the other hand didn't give a single shit.

"Dinnae get why not, she's a wee bonnie lassie...aye, I'd be a stella son-in-law too," He rambled on as he took a swig of his beer, "Why y'not givin' ole Riley this lecture too, Cap?"

John sighed and rolled his eyes, "Simon hasn't even spoken to a girl on our nights out, never been on a real date...don't think he's ever been near a girl...and whenever little missy walks into the room he's quieter than ever." He explained casually, it was known that Simon was inexperienced and lacked any female interaction.

But, what they failed to notice was that Simon had turned up to the cottage already, but was still tucked away inside the kitchen.

His arms were tightly around Price's daughter as he mumbled, "Missed you lovie...love you so much...you putting the kettle on for me, love?"

His lips were all over her cheek and neck as he gripped her tightly, her giggles filled the kitchen as she wiggled and tried to kiss him back whilst making him a cup of tea. Her smile was brighter than the sun itself and she was warm, loving and gentle. Her patience with him was something he had never experienced before, she made him feel loved in a way no one ever had before and it made his heart ache.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

They had fallen in love nearly a year ago, when Price had bought the boys to the same coastal cottage for a summer break after a rough mission. One that had Simon reliving his childhood trauma and battling his ptsd, but she cared for him like no one else did...she almost understood him in a way.

Simon had spent his nights on the deck, holding her hand and listening to her story, she always did the same in return. She always helped him piece together his own story. He didn't see when, but at some point his arms wrapped around her and drew her close to him, closer than anyone had ever been. His lips brushed against hers as he whispered, "Please..." a plea for her love, her affection, her attention and her hand in courting.

He hadn't ever had someone.

And neither had she.

They were so deeply in love, but no one else could even see it. It was as if it was a secret so well kept that only the stars that shone that night could remember their confessions and kisses that were the catalyst to this sweet romance. He began to avoid all women at the bars and barely spoke to any other girl when he was out because he knew his sweet birdie was waiting for him to come home, but the boys put it down to his lack of experience and social skills.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

"Missed you lots and lots..." She mumbled softly against his, chapped and scarred, lips as she let him lift her up to the counter to be at his height. His large, callous, worn hands were gently running over her plush stomach and around her freckled back to cuddle her so close it was almost suffocating.

"My missus...Mrs Riley..."He whispered tenderly into her ear as he held her tightly, as if scared she would be taken from him. Like someone would swoop in and steal her away. His insecurities were the bane of his life, always in the forefront of his mind, it made him sick to think of losing her in any way.

She giggled softly, like an angel, and whispered, "Need to ask good old Captain Price for his blessing first, baby..." as she quietly slipped down from the counter to finish making tea for her loving, gentle and slightly anxious boyfriend.

His heavy arms settled around her plush waist and he hunched down to her shorter height to rest his scrapped, scarred and stubbled chin on her head. "Mhm...soon..." He mumbled into her silky tresses as he pressed gentle, butterfly-like kisses to her parting of her locks.

The loving reunion occurred under the soft glow of the sunset in the rustic kitchen, as Price sat outside with Gaz and Soap completing oblivious to the gentle lovers inside.

Completely oblivious to the connection between the two broken people, a connection built on love, trust and respect.

Maybe soon it would grow harder to conceal, or maybe Simon would finally ask for Price's blessing to marry his daughter. The little, vintage engagement ring in his pocket was quietly praying for the latter result to happen, in order to grace her finger and portray their love outwardly.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

[avangeline222]

𓂃۶ৎ Secret girlfriend

You and your boyfriend, Gary ‘Roach’ Sanderson, are reunited after his deployment…but none of his team have met you yet…

gary 'roach' sanderson x f!reader 𓂃۶ৎ

wc: 0.8k

rating: suitable for all

warnings: established relationship, kissing, cuddling, gentle and loving fluff, f!reader in mind, use of lass/lassie, pet names like baby and honey, mentions of marriage.

a/n: I know the Roach fanbase is a lot smaller than the other boys but I will forever love him, I love writing for him as in my mind he is very shy and sweet (which is my idea of a perfect man 🫣) I have been drafting this for a while, it's nothing special just a little piece for my Roach lovers x

Roach was fed up, tired and ready for a home cooked meal. He missed his bed, his dog, and most of all you.

His loving, beautiful, caring girlfriend…that was totally a secret from his teammates.

His lovely girl who was waiting for him in the car park, leant against the car with your coat pulled close around you and anxiously checking your watch.

He hurried out of the van and across the car park to you, ignoring the boys as he saw you standing there. It felt like all of the blood, sweat and tears of the mission were worth it when he saw you stood there waiting on him.

It felt like he meant something.

His arms wrapped around you as he kissed your face all over between soft sobs and gentle strokes of your hair. A shy, loving smile tried to break through his tears that poured down his freckled cheeks that were littered in new nicks and scars from his most recent op.

He pulled you closer and buried his nose in your neck as his fingers grasped at the back of your dress as he cried. Soft, sweet sobs that were saved just for you.

He pulled back to quickly sign, “Baby, I missed you…missed you so much…I love you, love you so much, so beautiful…” as tears poured down his rosy cheeks.

A soft smile graced your lips as you blinked back tears and steadied his hands, gently interlinking your fingers and whispered, “Baby, missed you too…it's okay, just breathe,”

He breathed softly and sniffled with a shy smiled as he squeezed your hands tightly, trying to convey his pure love and affection for you. An impatient pace grew in his squeezing as he pulled you closer.

He smiled and leant in to kiss your forehead and gently let go of your hands to rub your back and hold you close. His lips pressed to your forehead again and again as he rubbed your back, holding you against him.

Little did he know, the boys were all standing watching him in pure shock. What was going on? Who was this girl? How long had this been happening?

As Gary kissed down from your temple to your lips whilst you both giggled and sniffled back tears, a loving and gentle reunion happened in the car park. His fingers gently curling around your locket as he held you closer by the second as he kissed you so sweetly.

“Roach?” Price eventually called, causing Gary to break from the kisses to look over at Price. You smiled and kissed his cheek before glancing over at the boys.

“Alright Lass,” He nodded politely (Soap, Gaz and Ghost just nodded awkwardly) before adding, “Roach, Lad…I’ll shove your stuff in your car,” Before turning to drag the boys to the van to collect their luggage and head to their cars, Gary turned to giggle and lift you into his arms. His face was tear stained, but his smile and freckles slowly eased his sad expression as he held you in his arms.

He carried you to the car, smiling and huffing as he opened the passenger door for you. He gently fastened the seatbelt and kissed your nose before signing: “I’ll be back in a second…I need to say goodbye to the boys…”

You smiled and nodded as you watched him hurry over to his team with a shy grin. Like the same nervous boy he had always been, except now something was different. He seemed comfortable around all of his friends, maybe it was because you were there? Maybe it was how close he was with the boys?

As he approached, Soap slung an arm around him and chuckled, “Who’s the lassie then?” as Gaz and Simon helped pester him.

Roach flushed and signed: “My girlfriend,” as he looked up for approval from the boys, which he did in fact receive before Price replied, “How long you pair been together then?”

A wave of nerves washed over Roach as he signed: “Since we were in secondary school…we were 16,” as he blushed. Soap was overly excited as he kept his arm around Gary and murmured, “Fuckin’ ‘ell…and you're whot, 22 now mate?” causing Roach to look down at his boots shyly, leaning into Soap as a way of giving in. Admitting that Soap was in fact right.

“You going to marry her, mate?” Gaz asked almost gently to break Roach from his thoughts, as he glanced over at the car. A quiet pride seeped into his tone, almost an older brother like behaviour, a pride in Roach's actions and his love for you.

Gary nodded shyly and sighed: "One day...I hope so anyway..." before stealing another glance at you in the car and waved shyly as Soap squeezed his shoulder.

The boys continued laughing and teasing as you sat in the car watching contently as Gary signed and laughed with the boys. Affection ran through your heart as you gazed lovingly, seeing your boyfriend in his own environment.

It was like seeing a shy deer growing more confident around it’s friends. Your sweet boyfriend was so expressive and sweet with his friends, it was nice to know he had people who cared for him at work. A place that you couldn't visit to care for him, a place that was so far from the warmth of your shared flat.

The more you watched, the more you realised this man was your future husband, he was perfect in every shy way.

[avangeline222]

Hear me out, giving kieran duffy a BJ 👀

wc: 0.6k

rating: mature

warnings: oral m!recieving, whimpering, description of smut and sexual content mdni, sub!Kieran, soft dom!reader, gn!reader, swearing

a/n: okay I’m actually awful at writing smut I’m sorry, but this is what I could do for you lovely (sorry it's so late!!)

The sun had set over Horseshoe overlook, the only lighting was the moonlight and the lingering embers from the camp fire. There were no sounds besides the crickets, the various snores around camp and now Kieran Duffy’s quiet whimpers and sobs.

Your fingers ran over his jaw as you tilted his chin up to kiss along his throat, causing him to whimper and push against you desperately.

“Please…please…” He begged softly as he whimpered shyly, trying to get some form of release as he pushed his hips to yours. Tears were beginning to settle on his lower lashes as he whined pathetically.

“Shh, oh honey…it's okay, oh my poor baby…” you cooed softly as you gently coaxed his belt undone for him, before slowly opening his jeans up. The bulge in his undergarments was very obvious to you now.

He whined and leaned to press his forehead to your shoulder, his wrists chaffing on the tree as he fought the binds that kept him there. Yet another reminder of his situation, a hostage to the Van der Linde gang, though you saw him as more than that.

“It's okay…you're okay, let me take care of you, Kieran baby…” You cooed softly as you eased his underwear down to expose him. He wasn't small, yet he wasn't ridiculously well-endowed, he was almost perfect.

His tip was ruddy and weeping for you, just as he was as he blushed and whimpered. He had a small bush of wiry hair that you gently nosed at as you kissed his base, letting one hand wrap around his thigh and the other found his balls.

He let out a soft moan and gently rutted against your nose as he whispered, “Please…I need you-” before being cut off by a choked sob as you kissed his tip.

With a gentle stroke of his thigh you took him in your mouth, letting him whimper and cry to his heart's content as you helped him settle. As you felt him relax you began to gently bob your head.

He whined and fumbled against the tree as you gently took him in your mouth and licked along his length and sucked ever-so-gently. Your beautiful eyes looking up to steal glances at him also was driving him insane.

Tears spilled down his cheeks, sweat was beading on his forehead, his hair was sticking to his face, his whimpers were slowly growing louder.

“Please, oh god…oh shit…I’m going to…Oh my god…” He rambled before letting out another choked sob, frantically rutting into your mouth and letting his backside hit the tree behind him. His wrists were sore from the friction and his legs were trembling from the pleasure and standing as a hostage for days.

With a shy moan, he came down the back of your throat and blushed, pulling back slightly in embarrassment. You swallowed gently and left a kiss to the tip and whispered, “Oh Kieran, you were so good…” as you grabbed a bucket of water and a flannel to clean him up.

Under the moonlight, you wiped his sweaty forehead and chest, cleaned up his spend off of himself and gently combed his hair. Making sure he was hydrated, you helped him sip some water and also made sure to feed him some leftovers.

Finally, you ensured his wrists were checked over from the rope burn before kissing his cheek and murmuring, “I’ll bring some breakfast for you tomorrow, honey…keep being brave for me…”

Maybe you’d convince Dutch to let the sweet, little hostage free or maybe you’d have to keep up this secret affair. Only time could tell…

taglist: @arthurmorganswifexx

[avangeline222]

⋆·˚ ༘ teenage years : the start

in your teenage years you knew and loved Simon Riley but in your adult years he was simply just a landmark within your past…

simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader - part 1 out of ?

wc: 1.4k

rating: suitable for all

warnings: teen!au as well as current day!au, will flick between past and present in later parts this is just the start, set in the 2000’s and vaguely links to 2009!Simon due to family backstory, parental death, Mr Riley is controlling, written with a more chubby reader in mind but it'll fit most f!readers.

a/n: just a little series I've been coming up with for a while, sorry it's been a while guess who got a new job so I've been working extra shifts. Love you all lots x

September 2003

Mrs Riley was a sweet, kind and terribly quiet woman. She was a friend of your mother's due to being a neighbour, she often seeked out your mother’s company on quiet afternoons when the house was empty and her husband was drunk. Her hands trembled as she helped your mother clean, her voice would falter whenever she was asked how she was doing.

Tommy Riley was a wild and free boy with big dreams, his eyes were always wide with curiosity yet his manners were always perfect. He was a couple of years younger than you at school, and you had babysat him in the past, though he always had to stay at your home rather than the Riley’s next door.

Yet, both of those bright souls were dulled. A freak car accident took Tommy and Mrs Riley, a few weeks ago along a main road just outside the dreary and dull Manchester.

That was how you ended up there, at the funeral. In the pouring rain, clutching your mother’s hand as your black dress grew heavy from the rain. Almost as heavy as the stare you were being given from Simon Riley.

His cold, empty blue eyes were focused on your sullen, tearful eyes as you glanced around at the other funeral guests. An oversized suit hung to his tall, lanky frame and covered his wide shoulders. His scarred face was stained with tears and his usual scars and marks.

He blinked and closed his eyes as the guests began to leave, as if not wanting to deal with the emptiness of his brother and mother’s absence. He was a broken and fragile sixteen (almost seventeen) year old boy.

Your mother squeezed your hand again gently and nodded towards Simon as the guests began to filter down the church pathway. You nodded to her in return and gave her a hug before slipping through the crowd, in your damp dress and shiny mary-janes.

He noticed you instantly, as if making himself aware of his surroundings and scoping the church yard. His father was mingling with some of your neighbours as Simon lingered closely by his mother and brother’s graves, as if trying to protect them or remain close to them.

“Simon…?” You murmured softly, a sympathetic gaze in your eyes as you approached cautiously. He just nodded and stuffed his scarred hands into his pockets as he looked down at the ground and blinked back tears.

After a moment of sullen silence, you slid a handkerchief into his hands. A small, pink piece of material with a little embroidered design of flowers and the distinct smell of your perfume.

“I’m really sorry for your loss…I’m always next door if you need anything.” You murmured softly, as you glanced down at your shoes again. The same teenage nervousness washing over the pair of you as you lingered between the graves.

He nodded again and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again and just nodded. You tried to smile but blinked back tears, and turned to return to your own mother who was waiting at the end of the path in the churchyard.

⋆·˚ ༘

A few days after the funeral, you sat at the kitchen table flicking through a magazine as the rain thrashed against the window. The kettle felt like it was taking longer to boil than usual.

Your joggers hung low on your hips, a pretty and expensive pair you had bought from Hollister last summer, and you shivered slightly in your flimsy tank top.

As you pushed your hair out of your face, you made your way over to the kettle as it finished boiling. Five mugs were on the counter: One with a tea bag and one sugar for your mother, one with a spoon of coffee and two sugars, one with a tea bag and two sugars for your older brother, one with hot chocolate powder for your little sister, and your own mug with a tea bag in.

The kitchen was cold and quiet, it should have been peaceful but all that was plaguing your mind as you stirred the mugs of tea was Simon Riley.

Was he okay? Has anyone visited him? How would he take his tea? Should you visit? Had he and his father been okay?

There was a nagging feeling in your chest that something was terribly wrong, but you couldn't place what it was. All you knew was that it had something to do with Simon.

⋆·˚ ༘

That night, as you lounged in bed and listened to the rain pelt against your window, you noticed movement in the house beside yours. The Riley's home.

Your home was a semi-detached house that connected to the home of an elderly couple, they were quiet and sometimes asked you to look after their dog when they went on holiday. However, there was a small alleyway beside your house that disconnected you to the Riley’s, yet a few feet from your own bedroom was Simon’s.

So, when you glanced out of your window that night and saw Simon bawling his eyes out, you knew you were right. Something was wrong and no one had noticed but you, so you took it upon yourself to fix it.

The next morning, you spent an hour or so baking some banana bread for Simon and his father, and you quietly slipped out of the house and onto the street. Your hoodie was half zipped up, and you wore the same joggers as last night, your hair was neat and tidy too.

You shyly knocked on the door, feeling a rush of anxiety as Mr Riley opened the door, an unimpressed expression on his face.

Before he could get a word in you blurted, “Is Simon in?” as you clutched the tin of cake painfully tightly.

Mr Riley opened his mouth to speak when Simon came bounding down stairs, in a pair of ill fitting jeans and a loose knit jumper. His face looked sore and tired and his blonde hair was as scruffy as ever.

He stilled on the bottom step and mumbled, “Alright?” as he focused on you, rather than his father’s harsh gaze.

“Simon, hey…hi, how are you?” You rambled awkwardly, shifting on your feet and glancing down the street from time to time.

He just huffed and walked back upstairs and his father took the tin from you, a deep flush from embarrassment washing over you.

“I made some stuff for Simon…and there’s a card for him, please could you make sure he gets it?” You asked quietly as you fiddled with the hem of your sleeves, the cool autumn air enveloping you. Mr Riley nodded and shut the door, leaving you on the doorstep.

⋆·˚ ༘

That afternoon, you waited patiently in your room for Simon to call. In the tin of banana bread, you tucked a note under the loaf which read: “Simon, hope you're okay please call me” with your number and email scrawled beneath it.

But he never called.

He didn't email either.

The next time you had seen him, he had shuffled onto the bus and found a seat amongst the other people from your secondary school as well as the others who were travelling into Manchester’s main town.

A seat beside yours, giving you a chance to pester him.

“Simon?” You murmured quietly against the hum of the bus, trying to battle the music in his earphones that came streaming in from his ipod.

He glanced up, with tired and sore eyes, before gazing expectantly and pulling his earphones out.

“Why did you call or even email?” You asked sheepishly, it felt almost childish to be so worried and upset but the nagging feeling that Simon was alone and broken couldn't seem to shift from your heart.

“I don't have your email or number?” He practically huffed in response, seemingly oblivious to the card.

That was when the realisation hit.

He didn't ever receive the card. Mr Riley didn't give it to him.

taglist: @arthurmorganswife @superunkn0wn