Thinking about those first months with Eddie. Not being able to keep your hands off each other. Nothing in the entire universe is as important as the moments you get to lose yourself in those deep dark pools of eyes.
Your lips ache. They're sore; they burn from those exquisite kisses. You bought Carmex from the drug store yesterday and gave it to Eddie. He thought it was so cute that he grabbed your hand and dragged you around the corner to suck the chapstick off your bottom lip.
Nothing matters. Nothing but the smell of his skin and the weight of him against your back. You can forever stay in this bed. You can kiss him until your lips peel from your face and you starve to death.
Simon never heard his father say sorry, or please, or thank-you, or I love you.
In their house, when his mama would put down hot, heavy casseroles, her skin damp with sweat, eyes darting for some sweet words, his father never said one word of thanks, let alone 'some'. Only waved his thick, impatient hand.
His father never took the plates to the sink. Never noticed when she stayed up at night to sort the screws by size and purpose—organizing the chaos he left behind just to find one damn hammer.
His father never said ‘please can you—’ only grunted with that bitter mouth, glared with those unkind eyes when he needed something.
Simon never heard him say I love you. And he couldn’t believe his eyes the day his father plucked out his baby brother from his mama's arm, and didn’t spare one glance for his Ma. She didn't deserved that, did she? Her weak frail body, cracked murmuring lips — she should be celebrated with adoration, comfort, love.
Love, and an infinite of it.
His father never sat beside her just to drink tea. Never told her about his day. Never asked about hers — what she did, or liked, or wanted. Never reached out his thumb, however calloused it was, to wipe away the sprout on her chin. That he was grateful she's next to him, that he loved her.
So when life happened, and Simon was left to pick up his pieces and place them in a way he wanted to be—he thought whomever he will be, anything, but his father.
Anything but him.
And then life happened again but this time it arranged itself in beautiful ways. Because you came with it this time. You and all your silly lovely ways, you who kissed your knee before resting your chin, you who cheered up catching up with fridge' light switching off, you so beautiful, so kind, made up of sundust. His sunshine — lighting up his world.
And God, he was so, so grateful. Every moment, every day !
“I love you,” he’d say the moment he wakes up next to you. Pressing his love on your lips, on your shoulder, on your neck.
“I love you,” when you spill milk in the morning daze and stare at it like it might disappear.
“I love you,” when he wipes your chin and kisses your forehead.
“I love you,” when he takes your hand in his and rubs it between his palm, why ? Because he'll spend his whole life keeping your hands warm than anything else.
“I love you.” because he loves, loves, and loves you so much that it hurts, so much that it heals, so much that it's everything sweet ever happened to him.
“I love you.” for all the ways his father failed, and Simon too, as a son, as a brother — failed to save his mama and lil' brother. I love you, because in loving you he is allowing himself to be loved.
Crawling back to John after your "one night stand" but he was just as obsessed as you were. Pt.1 Pt.2
You regretted it from the moment you stepped out of his flat. You really didn't know why you did it either, somehow it just felt natural for you to leave in the morning despite your heart screaming at you to stay there wrapped under wool sheets and locked in his embrace. You just slipped away early in the morning and now you had to live with the consequences. That being the fact John Price would not leave your mind. You went on holiday break just days after the night you spent together, and spending a month where you knew you weren't even the same city as the man who had given you the best night of your life and had treated you so delicately at the same time, was driving you insane. Every waking moment was filled with memories of your casual conversation and teasing jokes. When you dreamed, that is when you could fall asleep and not be in a spiral of regret, it was as if he possessed some otherworldly claim on your body because there was no other explanation for you reliving the pleasure night after night. Not to mention the fact that you couldn't get the jazzy tune of the record you had decided to throw on out of your head, constantly humming along to it and murmuring the words the best you could. But you just couldn't find the song no matter how hard you searched, it was eating away at you, and from where you were, there was nothing you could do.
John wasn't much better. Devastated would have been an understatement if you were trying to describe how he felt after waking up to an empty bed. In the beginning he really tried to ignore his feelings, bury them under work and absentmindedness as he so often did. But it came back to bite him in the ass, every time he got stressed he could only imagine having your sweet voice calling him to bed or telling him you made a fresh pot of tea. When he tried to get in his truck to go back to base for a change of pace, your name and phone popping up in his bluetooth menu the moment he turned on the ignition was like a slap back to reality. The reality that he had genuinely believed you might stick around and stay with him, a reality that had been shattered (and no he definitely did not remove your phone, not just because he didn't know how to). You were driving him mad at work too, the team had never seen their cap' with such an abhorrent attitude. Poor Soap and his usually endearing antics were usually the subject of his anger but nobody was safe. Ghost was sighing too loud and Gaz's use of the wrong mug was suddenly criminal.
" 'M tellin' ye mate, never seen the cap'n so...snarly." Soap complained after being told off for what would have usually been a harmless jab.
"Maybe yer' jus' not funny bruv, ever think a tha'?" Gaz was half listening but more focused on scrolling on his phone.
" 'S not tha' ya half-whit, he's been a dick with the lot'f us." The scot bit back, "Almost tore Lt. a new one fer' slammin' a door."
There was a grunt of agreement from the corner of the room and the boys continued to bicker about what could possibly have their captain so worked up but solutions could be agreed upon.
The only person he didn't snap at was Laswell and that was just because she would snap right back, and snap back meaner. When Price was being particularly sharp about a document not being ready on time she let loose, in front of the team.
"Look, John, I don't know what's got you acting so anal to everyone here, but clean up your attitude and fucking fix whatever the hells got you like this before I write you up for workplace harassment." She snapped, muttering the last part under her breath.
And John would have loved to have been able to fix his mood but he didn't know how to. You were lodged in his mind and wouldn't let him go. That slow, bass heavy song you played in the car replayed over and over in his head every time he thought of you. Your voice and the way you felt wrapped around him, but he couldn't for the life of him find the name of the damn song.
And so the slow and agonizing month away from uni dragged until you were back at school. You thought getting back into the rhythm of your classes and work would help you rid yourself of his memory. But no, you could barely focus in class when all your thoughts were of the way he whispered in your ear and opened doors for you. Against your (and your friends) better judgement you began to try and track him down. Retracing your steps from the bar and scouring google maps, even going so far as to search up his name, to no avail. All your friends told you to give up, that some man twice your age wasn't worth it, but you didn't give up, you couldn't. Finally you found a promising looking building on your maps app that you were able to retrace to his flat, looking exactly like you remembered. You didn't waste a second, grabbing your bag in a frenzy the moment you recognized the building.
Fighting with yourself the whole way there, debating every step you took. He might not even be there? He was in the military. Would he even want to see you? What if had wanted you to leave in the first place? It didn't really matter when you were navigating the stairs up to his place and standing in front of the door at 10:00 in the morning. It felt like lifting a 50 pound weight just to raise your hand and knock on his door, and you regretted everything the second you did.
Seconds later, the door knob turned and revealed a sleepy looking and shirtless John who was nonchalantly leaning against the door frame, a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. Don't let him fool you though, it was all an act, on the inside this man was freaking out and absolutely ecstatic to have his pretty bird fly right back into hands.
"Uh...hi." you gulped, trying to look anywhere but his built chest that you remembered the feeling of like it was yesterday.
"How was the break?" He asked, looking down his nose at you with a slightly amused expression that pissed you off, just slightly.
"Look," you started exasperatedly, "I just- I came, well I wanted to-" You could barely get the sentence out as he took a bite of his cereal, leaving the spoon in the bowl.
"C'mere," He said through bites, ushering in you in even as you shifted away, " 'M not going'ta letcha' stand out in the hallway."
And so he ushered you back into his flat, the exact same one you remembered, the record you had played was still on the player.
"Can I getcha' anything?" He asked, leaning against the kitchen table, still working on that bowl of cereal.
"No I'm fine." you responded curtly, leaning against the back of the couch across from him.
He looked like he was about to say something but you cut him off, "Look, I don't even know what I'm doing here but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, about that night. It's been weeks and- and I keep replaying that moment in my mind, the moment before I left- and I just wish I had stayed or something. And I don't know why I'm here- I thought about turning back my whole way here and I think somethings wrong with me because I've never felt like this but I should have just left it alone- but I didn't and I don't-"
You heard the sound of the bowl clattering onto the table before suddenly his lips were on yours, silencing your ramblings and relaxing as he felt you melt into him. All your worries suddenly forgotten now that his hands were on you.
When he parted for air, he rested his forehead against yours murmuring "You 'ave no idea how much 've been missing you my sweet girl, drivin' me fuckin' crazy without'ya." against your skin with a kind of quiet earnestness you had only dreamed of.
You couldn't hold back and began to let out shaking sobs against his chest, hiccuping out "I-I'm sorry for l-leaving, I- I just."
"Shhh s'all right." He cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your back, just happy to have you in his arms again.
When you calmed down enough to pull back and look at him with your tear stained face he smiled, stroking your cheek, "You might want to get ready." He whispered
"Ready f-for what?" You sniffled
" 'M takin' you out on a proper date."
A/n: Old man Price consumes me more and more everyday
late nights sitting in steve's car, with your shoes kicked off and thrown in the backseat, talking about nothing important as you sit in one of his hoodies that smells just like him, you've got your legs tucked up and your socks on his passenger seat while he rests his knee half way on your side of the car, his legs are just a little too long, and you've picked up some ice cream and way too many sweets and somehow even though stevie is eating the red vines your mouth still tastes like them from all the kissing, it's kind of stupid to be parked up like this in the middle of town, making out in your boyfriends car but somehow this has become a little tradition of yours and even if you're not seventeen anymore you're never going to say no when steve asks you to go for a drive in the middle of the night <3
winter holidays with simon riley, booking a trip with him to some snowy mountains with pretty wooden cabins and beautiful views, snow covered areas, tall spruces covered with soft, crumbly snow and a lot of entertainment to keep yourself busy, including a charming village nearby with a lot of souvenir shops.
simon is a little lost, he spent all the last winter holidays as the most ordinary day in his apartment, or in the evening in the pub with his mates from the task force, but with your appearance in his life everything became different, with you he began to go out in public more often, enjoy various walks and vacations, because while you are around, he is ready to step over his built in walls.
holding your hand tightly in his calloused one, hiding it in the pocket of his coat, stroking your fingers and trying to warm them while you snuggle up to his side, strolling together through the snowy village, occasionally stopping at various shops, because simon can't stand the winter cold, biting at his flushed face that he hides behind the thick scarf and collar of the sweater.
grumbles when you tease him about looking like a flushed maiden, his ears bright red over the pale skin, freezing under the touch of your fingers when you brush at them to adjust his scarf, hiding the sensitive areas of skin and brushing your lips fleetingly there with a tender kiss, meeting his warm, amber eyes that crease in hidden smile.
kisses you like a teenager under the mistletoe that hangs like a decoration at the entrance to the cabin you rent, pulling away the layers of clothing that hide his rosy face to gently kiss your lips, cupping your cheeks as his stubble, gradually growing into a small beard that makes him look cozy, scratches against your skin, tickling you, as his mouth swallows your joyful giggles.
carries you to the light, spare bedroom to settle you on the linen sheets, hovering over you without leaving your lips, kissing you over and over again, his tongue swiping into your mouth in an open, gliding kiss, while his hands strips layer after layer from your body, making you shudder wholly at the slight chill of his fingers in contact with your warm, heated skin.
tummy knotting with fizzling heat as his cool touch runs over your clothed pussy, tracing the outline of your puffy folds, sappy with oozing slick that wets the gusset of cotton fabric as you writhe, round hips wiggling under the heated, blown gaze of simon's eyes, as he treats you like his first, dearest gift to the heart, jeans tightening up around his chubbing cock.
●bf jude who cannot get enough of gossiping with you. literally the highlight of his day is getting into bed with you at night and getting allll the gossip
●bf jude who cannot go a day without telling you how much he loves you. will tell you 50 thousand times a day and still worry he hasn't told you enough
●bf jude who adores suprising you with gifts no matter how many times you tell him to stop because you can't reciprocate them "shut up if i wanna spoil my girl i will"
●bf jude who always makes sure you have fresh flowers no matter where you both are. he's away on international duty, you're back home while he's in spain whatever he's always gonna find a way to get the biggest bunch of fresh flowers to you
●bf jude who just has to shower you with compliments everyday. there hasn't been a day in your entire relationship where he hasn't called you beautiful at least once
●bf jude who is so incredibly touchy. cannot ever keep his hands off you and has to be touching you in some way. even something as small as holding your pinkie with his
●bf jude who loves cooking with you even if it ends up being a disaster each time
●bf jude who values the little things with you. things as simple as brushing your teeth together in the morning make him realise how painfully inlove he is with you
●bf jude who loves nothing more than spending the whole day after a game cuddling in bed binge watching the most rubbish reality tv to exist
●bf jude who only feels truly comfortable enough to be vulnerable around you and isn't afraid to express his emotions
●bf jude who will never allow you to go to sleep on your own after an argument no matter how bad it is
●bf jude who will never let you go to sleep after an argument without saying sorry and telling you he loves you no matter how petty or angry he is
●bf jude who does cheesy romantic stuff with you as a 'joke' but he adores it deep down ( you know he secretly adores it but you pretend not to)
●bf jude who is fiercely protective over you and his heart breaks everytime he sees you cry
●bf jude who loves stupid nicknames
●bf jude who won't answer when you call him jude, he only answers to baby
●bf jude who sometimes feels guilty about his fame because it stops you both from being able to do normal couple things
●bf jude who loves a coffee date with you more than anything
●bf jude who loves subtly matching outfits with you. something as simple as the same shoes or the same colour shirt
Eddie taking Polaroids when you’re not looking. (pure fluff)
He started doing it when he realized how self-conscious you’d get every time he’d pull out the camera, so he had to learn to be sly. Every moment with you was worthy of a memory, but he couldn’t be so obvious.
So he’d wait for the right moment, and when he’d catch you on the patio, shuffled up cozy on the porch swing, your socked feet tucked behind the other, as you listened to birds and watched the skies change color- the most beautiful and content look on your face, he’d get close and snap a shot before you could hear it.
Or walking in on you snuggled up on the couch, your favorite blanket keeping you warm as you your mouth parted on a cushy pillow from the bedroom; hair mussed and all- just how he loved you- he’d take that as another opportunity to hit click.
Another was a photo of you at the park. You’re in a pretty sundress with your favorite shades resting on your head. You’re laughing as you reach down, seemingly grabbing for a baggie of fruit slices right after he’d probably told you another terrible dad joke before pulling you in for an extra sweet kiss.
It’s not until one day while searching his nightstand for a pen, you come across a stash of glossy white paper..or cards? You’re not sure.
Naturally, you pull them out, and when you see it’s an entire box of photos dedicated to you, just for his eyes, you quickly go from feeling shy and embarrassed to absolutely treasured and adored.
Thumbing through each photo is a lovely new surprise, and when you get towards the end of the pile, you’re met with his doting eyes watching over you as you sleep. You’re cuddled impossibly close to his chest, arms wrapped around him, clinging tight. And you can’t help but notice, there’s that look on your face again - pure contentment. The look on his is pride, and no doubt, a glimmer of peacefulness. To hold you, and be able to love on you and look after you was something he would never take for granted.
Everyday he made you feel so special, but in this moment, seeing these sweet photos he’d kept just for himself, you felt absolutely safe, loved, cherished, appreciated, and totally adored.
tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, fluff, cunnilingus, praise, body worship
wc: 1k
Currently daydreaming about being in an arranged marriage with duke!simon riley. And after an extended celebration, it’s time to consummate the marriage.
Simon senses your nervousness and tries his best to soothe you, gently letting you know he will never touch you without your permission. Little did he know, since you saw him waiting at the altar, gruff yet dignified in his handsome glory, you instantly knew you had to be the luckiest woman alive. Listening to his soft affirmations makes your heart beat even faster.
You remind him that, unfortunately, if you did not do your marital duties, it wouldn't go unnoticed. "the bedsheets," you remind him. "the handmaidens will know once they see that they’re clean." you giggle as you listen to your new husband grumble underneath his breath about the 'daft fockin' traditions'.
"It’s okay," you take his larger hands in yours, squeezing his fingers softly. His face takes on a look of surprise, not expecting to be held so gently. "i trust you." you smile, gazing up at him shyly.
Simon swallows, nodding his head slowly as he finally lets his eyes stray from your face and down your body. You guide his hands towards your waist as you shuffle closer to him, having to strain your neck to look up at him. He rubs his thumb over your satin nightgown, appreciating its silky texture.
He lets out a breath as he fiddles with the straps against your shoulders, his gaze never leaving yours. You nod your head shakily, your breath coming in slightly uneven once it finally sets in on what you're about to do.
"Words," he demands, his voice taking on a more assertive tone.
"Please, Simon," you whine, your face and body growing warm in embarrassment. He smirks proudly as he slowly slides the straps down your shoulders, gently running his fingertips across the soft flesh unveiled before him.
Once your gown turns into a puddle around your feet, he doesn't waste time roaming his curious hands up and down your newly exposed body, cupping your breasts, massaging your hips, and dragging his palm up and down the arch of your spine.
After he lets out a long, pleased sigh, he walks you backward towards the bed. and you do so, even sitting obediently down at the edge of the bed, all without him touching you.
He smiles down at you, his gaze dark yet soft, and his eyes flitter all over your body.
"God, yer beautiful, luv, y’know tha'?" he groans as he begins undressing before you. He chuckles at your meek 'thank you' in response, eyeing the way your thighs squeeze together as you watch him intently.
He withholds from teasing you any further as he kicks away his pants.
"Lie up against the pillow for me, luv," he commands again, nodding his head upward. You quickly do as he says, scooting yourself upwards and biting back a gasp as he slides off the rest of his undergarments. You're not quite sure where that's supposed to go. Not inside you, surely?
"It's alright, sweetheart," he says to comfort you, though a hint of amusement underlies his soft tone of voice. "it ain't gonna bite ya'." he huffs as he follows you, pinning you against the bed.
You open your mouth to speak, but the words stay trapped inside your throat as your eyes lock on against his twitching cock.
"Will it hurt?" you ask, your voice thin as you gaze back up at his face for reassurance. He grins toothily, his eyes crinkling as he shakes his head.
"Nah, little bird," he grunts, his voice thick and husky. "I won't let it hurt ya'."
You moan softly as his lips connect with yours in a tender kiss, your eyes fluttering closed as his calloused hand cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing gently across your cheekbone. You blush deeply as his lips continue to smack against your own, even more so as they descend to your neck and naked chest.
You grasp at his short, light brown strands of hair; a tiny squeak leaves your mouth as he licks over your areole before nibbling at the soft, hardening bud.
“Simon,” you whisper as he gropes at your unattended breast. You arch your chest closer towards his greedy mouth and gentle caresses.
He hums huskily at the sound of his name leaving your lips in such a lewd way. “Feelin’ good, luvie? Yeah?” he asks but frames it more as a statement as he kisses down the expanse of your body, his hands parting your thighs wide as he settles himself in between them.
“Wait - what’re you—” you’re cut off by a trembling moan escaping from deep inside your chest, watching in bewilderment as his lips attach themselves to your pussy and keening further as he sucks hard.
"It's-it's dirty!" you protest, your fingers weakly tugging at his hair in an attempt to pull him away, yet this seems only to excite him further. He groans deeply, shaking his head from side to side, his eyes clenched shut in concentration.
He softly chuckles against your mound, tracing his tongue up and down your labia. "dunno' whatcha' mean, luv." He mumbles, nudging his nose against your clit as his tongue pokes against the rim of your dripping hole.
"Tastes good t'me."
You find you don't exactly have the words to respond to him, only bringing your hand up to your mouth to conceal your growing noises of pleasure. You arch your back deeply, lifting your hips to chase the feeling of his sinful mouth.
"Don't stop," you whimper from behind your hand, your brows deeply furrowed, and your eyes glaze over as you peer down at him.
"Lemme' hear ya'," he growls, shooting you a warning look from between your legs.
"But-"
His glare deepens, causing you to remove your hand from your face with a submissive whimper, grasping at the soft linen beneath you.
"Good girl."
Your thighs clench tight around his face at the sudden praise, feeling embarrassed as he huffs out a laugh.
"Dun't get too excited now, luv." he drawls, his fingers dipping in between your legs to rub slow circles against your clit.
Okay, I just can’t stop thinking about John Price honestly. Especiallyyy after he’s *retired*!!
Here is a little drabble (is that the right word? Can’t remember, I’m new here). It gets a little 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 (18+) towards the bottom but nothing crazy. F!Reader
⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢
﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉ ୨ᰔ୧ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉
✧.* Because sure, big buff military man who’s puffin’ more smoke than a chimney is cool and all. But give me sleepy, squishy, human teddy bear Price. Give me Price who’s perpetually exhausted after carrying the weight of the world on his back. Price that just wants to hibernate for a while with his luv.
✧.*Im thinking he’s all softened up around the edges. All that muscle mass doesn’t disappear over night, but as time passes and he’s no longer on an extensive workout routine, it ain’t sticking around forever. Big ol’ pecs that you can squish your face against, a little padding to his stomach. Hold on, stay with me now 🤤
✧.* Of course, he’s still got that grizzly sort of appearance. All mapped in scars and maybe the occasional burn from those late nights spent at his desk with a cigar between his fingers while he’s drifting in and out of consciousness with exhaustion. The damn workaholic! Hairy too; least we forget—that beard and those arms. Oh lord.
✧.*Maybe one day you realize in that post retirement laze of his (which is well deserved, mind you. Don’t give him a hard time now) that he’s looking a lil’ extra scraggly. You sit on the bathroom counter, and with a delicate hand and a very distracted focus, you give his beard a shave. All cute and romantic, the room still steamy from your shared shower…
BAD. Mistake. You both agree to never let it happen again. An angel just lost its wings!! Leave his beard alone 😭
✧.*Treat this man so good, he deserves it. Whether you like to cook or not, you find yourself gravitating to the kitchen on occasion to make sure he’s eating well at least some of the time. Some home-cooked meals to cancel out all those shitty MREs he’s consumed in his lifetime.
✧.*Bet he will reward you for it too; he’s got a soft spot for good girls. He is tired of yelling commands and barking out orders, he’s too worn out to deal with a brat. Be a sweet little thing now and show him some love. Offer to climb into his lap and take over when his bad leg starts acting up, see where it gets you.
✧.*Rolling your hips to a steady rhythm only you hear, he lets you have your fun until he’s ready to set the pace. Big hands pawing at your waist, clutching at you just tight enough his fingers are going to leave red marks for him to soothe away after. He doesn’t even have to roll his hips up against you, he can just move you as he pleases with his strength.
✧.*You don’t even have to try to give him a show—he drinks in every little reaction you give him. His heart skips a beat when you mewl, your eyes threatening to roll back in sheer bliss. The sticky sound of your thighs, drenched in arousal, meeting his skin. The way your lips meet his neck and shoulders, kissing and nipping love bites against his body. The mattress springs squeaking from underneath you two. It’s a performance, and he’s dedicated to appreciating every moment.
✧.*He’ll send you melting with his words, too—
“Mmm, is that good, little luv’?”
“You like that, baby? My darlin’?”
“Such a good girl—doing so well f’me.”
“F-fuck lovie, do that thing with your hips again~”
✧.* Aftercare is top-tier with him too, no questions asked. He may have gotten a little lazy in his retirement, but never when it comes to you. Water, a snack, a quick clean up. Him putting his entire weight over you like a human weighted blanket. Whatever you need, Lovie.
﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣
Wrote this quickly after doing an online job interview, I don’t think it went very well bc I have awful RBF but wish me luck :,)
Should I do a full fledged fic about this? Anyone interested? Okay, bye <3
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