Situationships - Tumblr Posts

Right person wrong time? Maybe that's we are.

Older men's hands are the perfect jewelry on girls' necks.

i can’t keep reading your blog god its not good for my heart. im giggling and kicking my feet in bed. i have to take pauses 😭

I have been quite inactive lately and now I see that my inbox is full of such sweet messages OMG!! Thank you awww😭 <333 I'll answer everything I can soon and update you girls, but right now there's a lot of chaos in my life, so I don't have the time or energy to post much. But I'm trying and I'm slowly coming back with my nonsense and love drama stories!!! Hahaha love y'all❣️

Is it casual now?

One shot; college students drew x reader

Summary: “Baby, no attachments.” yet, you’re at his childhood home, laughing with his parents, bonding with his siblings. 

Genre: situation-ship, smut, fluff

Warnings: swearing, usual sex stuff, light read,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ inspired by the song Casual, Chappell Roan.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Stop being a fucking tease.”

You say, tugging on Drew’s hair. He’s giving gentle licks to your pussy, but not fully going in on it. You arch your back to get closer to his tongue, but he just pins you down again. 

“I’m not,” he tells you, his hot breath hitting your clit.

“Fuck,” you curse, which earns a chuckle from Drew. He’s definitely teasing you right now, licking your pussy softly and in a slow tempo. Worse, his blue eyes stare up at you as he licks. 

But you were secretly enjoying this. Seeing Drew kneeling on the floor, in the backseat of his car, with his head between your legs. You had a leg over his shoulder, which he grips onto tightly, making sure you didn’t move. His other hand, of course, is on your waist, pinning you down on the seat. 

You roll your eyes. “Seriously, hurry-“

Your sentence is left unfinished as Drew flattens his tongue against your clit, a moan escaping from you. He then proceeds to French-kiss your pussy, just like how you wanted him to. 

“Shit,” he curses in-between, hearing your moans. Good thing it was an empty parking lot, allowing you to show how pleased you were. You tug on his hair softly as he continues to eat you out, his groans and your moans mixed together. 

You arch your back once again when he kisses deeper into your pussy; you knew you were close. He knows it too, your hold on his hair getting tighter. 

“My mouth,” he says, holding you down. “Cum in it.”

You do; and you watch as he licks it up, swallowing it. Both of you are breathing heavily; fuck, he was a good pussy-eater. 

Letting go of his hair, you watch as gets up from the floor and sits next to you. You look at his dick; fully erected through his sweatpants. Instinctively, you reach over and palm it, earning a satisfied grin from Drew.

“We got time,” he groans, not even checking his watch. “Give me a ride, babe.”

You smile, getting up and straddling his lap while he pulled his pants down to his knees. 

No matter how many times you’ve had sex with Drew, his dick size still shocks you. 

“Condom,” you point out, eyes glued to his dick. 

“Glove compartment,” he says, kissing your cheek. 

“You keep condoms in your glove compartment?” You tease, getting up and reaching over to the front. “Didn’t know your car is a hotspot for hook-“

He slaps your ass rather roughly, making you shut up as you look rummage through the compartment. Okay, you enjoyed that. “Found it or not?”

Your hand comes in contact with several plastic wrappings, and you take one, returning to the back. You straddle him again, your hands busy with undoing the condom. 

Drew watches you with lustful eyes, his hands around your lower waist. “Need help?”

Frustrated, you just rip it open with your mouth. “Got it,” you say, and he chuckles, watching you wrap it around his dick. He kisses your cheek again, a sly smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothing; just ride me already.”

You raise your eyebrows in suspicion, but you don’t question further, wanting to have his dick buried inside of you already. You slide down slowly on him, because from past experiences, taking him all at once will hurt. 

You bit your lip, and once it’s fully in you, you don’t move, adjusting to it. You take a deep breath, and look at Drew, who leans his head back in pleasure. 

There’s a little bit of cum on the corner of his lips. You laugh, causing his grip on your waist to tighten. “You…you got some r’here,” you wipe it off, and Drew smiles.

“Can I move now?” he says after a few seconds.

You nod; and he raises his hip to thrust into you. Just one thrust, to get you started. You moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You start moving too; moving slowly up and down his cock. 

“Faster,” he groans.

You don’t listen; wanting to go through your own pace. Which was slow. His size is big, so who could blame you? “Fuck,” he curses, before thrusting deep into you, and you moan in shock, the full thing feeling like it hit your core. “Faster or I’ll do it for you.”

“Shit,” you moan, and he kisses your forehead. He leans back again, giving you another chance to try. You move faster than before, sliding up and down on his dick. Fuck. To you, your movements felt sloppy, but Drew's moans assure you that he liked it.

“Good girl,” he moans, as you continue to ride him. Drew adds a few thrusts, hitting your g-spot almost every time. He kisses your neck everytime he thrusted into you, his hands slipping lower and lower down your waist.

Drew easily gets another orgasm out of you. “I’m cumming,” you say, your movements slowing down. 

“I know,” he says, before kissing you. You kiss him back, full of lust and pleasure. It always felt good to kiss him.

And the kiss helps you, moaning into his mouth once you cum, riding your second orgasm out slowly. 

Drew thrusts slowly into you, helping his own orgasm that’s about to release. “Shit,” he groans, and you feel his dick twitching inside of you. He smiles, resting his forehead against yours, and you feel his warm cum filling up the condom. 

After a few seconds, when you have air in your lungs again, you say softly, “You can take your time but I can’t?” You're referring to when he was teasing you earlier by giving soft licks to your pussy, yet not allowing you to go slow riding him. 

“I wasn’t going slow,” he denies, still smiling. “But faster felt better, didn’t it?”

“When you have a strong body,” you say, pulling yourself off Drew. He helps you, hands on your waist as he puts you gently beside him. You watch as he reaches for tissues in the front. “Remember last time? I said the safe word, and you kept going. I couldn’t walk for a week-“

“But you came, didn’t you?” He cuts you off, wiping the cum around your legs. 

Your cheeks heat up. “Not the point,” you murmur, looking at how gentle he is while cleaning you up. 

“You can go slow,” he says, “but we got people waiting, so you gotta ride faster.”

“And who offered to eat me out?”

“I didn’t know you would say yes,” he finishes cleaning you, sitting back and taking his condom off.

You roll your eyes, the corner of your lips curling up. “And have I ever said no?”

He laughs, wiping himself and putting his pants back on. He throws the condom and dirty tissues into a trash bag at the front, grabbing your underwear at the same time.

Once both of you were dressed, Drew surprises you by kissing you again. 

And like the loser you were, you kissed him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Yeah. You like kissing Drew, and he seems to like kissing you too. 

So, was it casual now? Is what you think when kissing him, because he kisses you like he won’t get another chance to, like it’s the last time he’ll see you. And not only right now, but he always kissed you like that. 

“Shit,” he pulls away, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours. “I guess we could be late for a minute or two.”

You laugh, and he just kisses you again, his hands going under your dress. 

——

“You’re the first girl he’s ever bought home.”

Drew’s sister, Brooke, tells you this information, once Drew is asked to help his parents in the kitchen. 

“Shit, you’re scaring her, Brooke,” Logan, Drew’s other sibling says, even though his eyes are glued to the basketball game on tv. 

“But it’s true! Yet, Drew says you’re not together,” Brooke continues. “I asked him, and he strongly told me that you’re his best friend.”

Best friend, huh? He wouldn’t even call you that in front of others at campus, yet he tells his family that you’re his best friend. 

You and Drew have been casual for more than five months now, and always, Drew would clear up the relationship you two had. It was like, the thought of you being his girlfriend was the worst thing ever.

You were known in campus as ‘the girl he bangs on the couch.’ You never told him how much this title bothers you, wanting to appear chill with him, chill with this whole situation. Drew never mentions it too, either oblivious to it or not caring. 

A loser, your friends would call you. A loser who likes to hang out with a guy that doesn’t even admit your relationship with him, calling it ‘casual’ and ‘no attachments’. 

They were right, even convincing you to call it off many times, but you couldn’t. You always kept your thoughts to yourself, resulting in this ‘casualness’ to drag this long. 

Dragged so long, that you are now at his childhood home. 

Earlier, his siblings only talked casually with you, asking how you met Drew, your interests, etc. Only when Drew finally leaves the room, his sister suddenly changes the topic that she was talking about (the new camera she bought).

“And he’s mine,” you smile, hoping it would be the end to it.

“The way my brother looks at you? No way,” Mackayla adds, her eyes also glued to the tv. Seems like all the Starkey siblings are nosy about what’s going on between you and Drew. “I mean, I’ve never seen him like this.”

“He seems…normal to me,” you kept denying. Well, you weren’t denying, you could see nothing different with Drew tonight. Other than saying you’re his best friend, he certainly acts the same. Friendly with you, just like on campus. 

“He’s smiling a lot,” Brooke says.

“He turned the AC up because you sneezed,” Logan adds, his tone indicating that it seemed to be a big deal. “While I’m cold as fuck, he ignored me when I asked. But you sneezed once.”

“He got shy when you mentioned him!” Mackayla excitedly adds, recalling earlier. 

You’re about to call out on how delusional they were, when a knock around the kitchen door is heard. Drew leans against the kitchen entrance, arms crossed. “Hey, Y/n, um, need your help.”

“Uh, sure,” you smile at him, getting up and walking into the kitchen.  

Something must’ve happened when you turned your back, because you can hear his siblings trying to hold in their laughter (failing miserably). 

“Y/n’s our guest, why are you asking her to help?” His mom scolds him as Drew tells you to carry the dishes out to the dining room. 

“I’m saving her,” he tells his mom, before sending you a warm smile, and whispering in your ear, “told you they’re fucking brats.”

“I don’t know; I like them more than you,” you tease, whispering back at him, and carrying the plates and tableware out the kitchen. 

Drew follows behind you. Once the two of you are alone in the dining room, his naughty hand goes to your ass, giving it a squeeze. You turn around in shock; good thing no one was here to see that. “Hey!” You yell quietly at him, but the smile on your lips say otherwise. 

He gives you a teasing smile, before his tone turns semi-serious, and he changes the topic. “My siblings didn’t harass you in that short minute I was gone, did they?” 

He helps you set the table up, although his hand was always bumping into yours on purpose. “No; your sister even showed me photos she took,” you lie, moving along the table. 

Drew moves too; keeping his hip close to yours. “Brooke and her cameras. Literally; you don’t need to listen to her.”

“I want to,” you say. “She’s amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Drew suddenly says, causing you to stop and look at him. He glances down at your lips; he wants to kiss you. 

“I know,” you teasingly say, moving away from him on purpose. 

You didn’t want to kiss him when his family could walk in any moment. You’re his ‘best friend’ right now, he said so himself. He always introduced you as a classmate, at campus. Now, apparently, you’ve upgraded to ‘best friend’. 

“No, really. I’m not just saying that cause we’re, y’know,” he continues, moving close to you again. You don’t look at him, focused on setting the table up. His hand suddenly wraps around your shoulders, and he rubs your exposed collarbones. You finally look up at him. “You’re truly, an amazing girl.”

Gosh. He wants to kiss you so badly, his eyes now glued to your lips. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you breathe out, and you make a mistake by glancing down at his lips. 

Because Drew takes it as a yes, and he kisses you. You kiss him back softly, the warmth of him vibrating through your entire body. 

Kissing your best friend, is the most casual thing to do, apparently. 

You pull away after what felt like minutes (not even thirty seconds have passed), remembering that you’re in his house, and that his family could walk in any moment. “A table to set up, Drew,” you say, still staring at his lips.

“I know,” he says, his eyes also staring at your lips. His hand is fidgeting with your dress strap. 

But the urge to kiss him again vanishes when you hear footsteps coming your way. 

You and Drew quickly stand away from each other, acting like his tongue wasn’t down your throat a few seconds earlier. 

His mom walks in with several plates of food, placing them in the middle of the table. “Y/n, honey, I made your favorite dish, that Drew told me about,” his mom smiles at you, as Drew’s dad walks in with some more dishes. 

“Thank you,” you smile, part of you wondering what else Drew has told his mom about you. “It must be delicious.”

“Sit, sit. Drew, go get the rest of the dishes,” Drew’s mom turns to him, taking the tableware out of your hands. But she stops, staring at her son’s face. “Darling, you got pink stuff on your lips. What-“

Your cheeks go red, seeing that your lipstick was smeared on the corner of his lips. Drew wipes it off, chuckling as he looks at you. “Must’ve…must’ve been something I ate earlier.”

When his parents look away and start their own conversation, Drew points to the corner of his lips while looking at yours. You quickly wipe your lips, at where he pointed at. Fuck. Good thing his mom didn’t catch on. He smirks, before walking back into the kitchen to get the last dishes. 

You bit your lip as you look down, embarrassed and shy. 

Whenever Drew made you shy, you repeat this word in your mind: Casual. Casual, casual, casual. You repeat it in your mind like a spell, reminding yourself how casual it’s suppose to be with Drew. 

Except, when has it ever felt casual? 

-------------------------------

word count: 2.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: literally wrote this because i was listening to Casual. anyways, hope you enjoyed this one-shot ! certainly enjoyed writing it, and pls ignore any mistakes i made, kinda posted without rereading... (T_T.) i was also blushing while imagining this shit, bc why is this mf so fine and not mine...

Asha ki lau h Roshan phir bhi tufan ka darr h...

Lau bujh na jaye kahi...(anxiety of a situationship romantized)

Bachpan mei kattis - dost krne Wale baccho se kaha situationship kra rhe ho uncleeeeee

bruh he left me on delivered for 30 mins, I feel alone and sad, because I talk to no one else but him and one of my friends, the list is short, I'm lonely and need someone to talk to

I tried to tell him, I'm not the best at communication but I just want him to tell me what he's doing, his hobbies etc, it's just frustrating that I always feel guilty after

It's killing me inside I just want to be well, but since the 1st of September, I'm just sad and feeling more depressed than everything else

I feel like he's so sensitive and I'm already too sensitive, it's destroying everything because I'm not happy with it

But if I say nothing about him being absent, he would just tell me that he feels like I'm not loving him anymore and that we're getting distant ughh

Is it all my fault ? I feel like there's no issue

It's a bigger venting lol I feel so overwhelmed and sad

He's the man that I wanted but why is everything getting so bad lately

The world is against me (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

(I like putting cute gifs after saying the most depressing sh!t lol)

I don't understand, he asked me if I would block someone that came to DMS to flirt because of what happened earlier, then after long minutes, he sent me reels suddenly as if nothing happened??? I'm so confused

Okay bruhh I blocked my boyfriend because I didn't like the way he was always jumping on my account everytime I was posting something and well

He completely exaggerated it ?? "Oh I'm doing a panic attack because you blocked me" "I hate you" when he wasn't doing well because he saw some people's comments under my post, I preferred blocking him on Tumblr for him and for me

He told me to not talk to him anymore so I muted him on Instagram, I'll do what he wants because he's not even capable of accepting a decision that I made

He made me feel guilty for this

I love you more than you'll ever love yourself.

I dream for you because I can. I know you will never dream for me and that’s okay.

Your silence doesn’t comfort me.

I think of you every single day. Some people will never get that much real estate in my mind.

You’re that chapter in my book of life that will constantly be rewritten because I will keep painting the wrong picture of you.

You’ll only have to leave me once. I leave you almost every day and I always let you back in even though you never knew you left.

I will always kiss you even when I know you don’t deserve it.

Because I am my own worse enemy.

healing isn’t linear, yes, but how long do i have to keep feeling a pinch in my heart at the mention of his name, seeing his name still on top of my contacts list, feeling anxiety bubbling within me when someone mentions his name, and dreading going to places we used to go to - some i considered my safe havens - in fear of crossing paths with him? it’s really so unfair how much he altered my life forever yet to him, i was just another notch on his belt. man, i just wanna get over this dude already :( but it’s so hard when he’s someone i used to genuinely loved, cared for, and rooted for so deeply.

do you guys have any similar stories like mine? i would love to read all about it and perhaps gain some insights and advice on how to completely surrender the what ifs with a person you loved wholeheartedly.

one day, i’ll write our story as a release from the what ifs.

healing isn’t linear, yes, but how long do i have to keep feeling a pinch in my heart at the mention of his name, seeing his name still on top of my contacts list, feeling anxiety bubbling within me when someone mentions his name, and dreading going to places we used to go to - some i considered my safe havens - in fear of crossing paths with him? it’s really so unfair how much he altered my life forever yet to him, i was just another notch on his belt. man, i just wanna get over this dude already :( but it’s so hard when he’s someone i used to genuinely loved, cared for, and rooted for so deeply.

do you guys have any similar stories like mine? i would love to read all about it and perhaps gain some insights and advice on how to completely surrender the what ifs with a person you loved wholeheartedly.

Who called it Situationship and not

"अजीब दास्तां है ये कहां शुरू कहां खतम ये मंजिले है कौनसी ना वो समझ सके ना हम"???????

ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley

WC: 6,048 | Part I

Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.

His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.

He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.

Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.

“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.

“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.

“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.

“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.

“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.

“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.

“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.

“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.

“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.

“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.

“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.

Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.

“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.

“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.

“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.

“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.

“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.

“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.

“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.

“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.

“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.

“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.

“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.

“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.

“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.

“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.

“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.

“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.

“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.

Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.

“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.

He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.

“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.

His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.

“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.

“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.

His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.

John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.

He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.

“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.

“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.

“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.

Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.

“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.

“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.

“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.

“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.

“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.

As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.

“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.

The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.

“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.

“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.

Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.

“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.

“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.

“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.

“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.

“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.

“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.

“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.

“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.

“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.

“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.

“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.

“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.

“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.

“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.

“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.

“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.

“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.

“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.

“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.

“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.

It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.

Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.

“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.

“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.

You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.

You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.

“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.

“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.

“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.

“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.

He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.

They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.

You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.

“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.

“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.

Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.

He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.

“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.

Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.

You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.

“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.

“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.

“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.

You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.

You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.

Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.

The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.

They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.

“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.

“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.

no contact means no contact. LEAVE ME ALONE DEVIL MAN.

College situation ships are really weird like you used to talk almost 6 months ago and both of you never crossed each others path after the talking stage. Untill or unless you are walking to your class while thinking about a different guy in your head and you bumped into each other:)

Perfecting Timing ⏳ (my situationship movie and ariana grande music video)

KILL ME before one day i start to think about liking someone again not having a hundred percent sure they like me back and want a relationship with me pls tired of this shit

You.

You are the newest you, although you don't know it.

Something about the way you call me good girl and then give me another order, it hits me on a visceral level.

You.

Are very fun.