Quiet Whispers Of Affection

It had been a stupid fight; all that Simon seemed to remember was his own yell of anger and the door slamming behind him as he left for a mission, one he knew she didn’t approve of. Not that it really mattered anyway, it’s not like he could say no to the government that was working him like their own private dog. It’s not like the feelings and opinions of his partner even mattered when it came to his work, it had never and would never pan out like that.

She had been so angry, so innumerably angry that he was leaving for work and had never told her. Worse yet, he had lied to her, saying that he was free for another two weeks before the next big drop that Price had been informed about, countries away. She called him a liar and he began to wonder, as he stood in front of the flimsy door of their flat, why he ever got angry in the first place? Because he had known about the mission, and he had lied to her. So why had he raised his voice and he told her she was immature for ever requesting something so minimal like an anniversary of him. All he ever did was risk his life for his country, and now he was being attacked by the woman he loved who he thought understood what he was going through. 

No– that wasn’t right. Simon sighed gruffly, ripping off the mask and looking down at the doormat, staring at the “Love is Here” message slightly printed off kilter to the actual object. He was a fucking fool, an absolute idiot and utter git for ever thinking that way. She wasn’t misunderstanding him, he was treating her like someone who was expendable. Someone who would stay despite all the shit he put her through. Simon knew he wasn’t a saint, he was troubled, broke, volatile, any possible adjective that one could imagine in a negative light… He was that. 

But after everything, she had stayed with his sorry arse. And he took that for granted. 

He unlocked and opened the door with a hand that began to shake, because he wasn’t sure what would greet him when he stepped inside. In the few seconds it took for him to swing it open, he imagined an empty flat that was barren of all her items. All the toys and poppets she loved, all of the books that she left in strange random places he would gruffly complain about yet never move. The couch devoid of the blankets she loved so much, the warmth of their home gone. 

God, he had really fucked up. Instead of tasting his own medicine, the higher beings of the world were shoving it down his throat and screaming at him to swallow. 

He stepped inside of the pitch black flat, yet another terrifying sign that he had done the one thing he would regret for the rest of his life. Simon decided that he would pretend to ignore the disgusting twist in his gut while he set his duffel down and undid his boots. He stepped over a pair of boots that were strangely placed in front of the door and for a horrifying moment, he thought they were someone else’s. 

But after further inspection, they were just his. 

“Hon?” He called out, kicking himself as he heard his own voice crack like some school boy. Was he really this scared, did the thought of losing her, having lost her, really scare him to the point of nausea? 

Yes, the fucking answer was yes. 

“Princess?” He moved through the flat, turning on lights and looking at the surrounding area. His eyes caught the peak of blankets, that stupid book she always enjoyed over-and-over again, a cuppa sitting on the kitchen counter precariously. He moved to his, feeling the exterior of the mug and realizing it was slightly warm. She was still here, she didn’t leave. 

He moved through the flat after that with vigor and panic, checking every single room and even lingering in the washroom because she sometimes, like a lunatic, read in the bathtub. But each room he checked, she wasn’t there. It was 9 PM and she wasn’t in the flat, where the fuck could she be. She didn’t like to go out late, didn’t like parties or large scenes, but she was obviously somewhere else. A friend's flat? A man’s flat…?

Halfway through his panicked thoughts, the front door opened with a creak that made him jerk and pop his head past the hallway. Simon felt his breath catch before he was moving faster than his brain could keep up with. “Princess.” He whispered, reaching out and grabbing her. She squeaked in surprise, looking up as he pressed his face into her neck and held her as tightly as he could. If this was the last time he would hold her, he would make every second count. 

“Don’t say nothin’ love.” He strained out, pressing her face into his wide chest and soaking in the warmth of her skin. God, he wished he could hold on to her forever, and as strange as it sounded, smell her hair like this forever. “I fucked up, royally fucked up. M’sorry for the shit I said to ya that night. You don’t deserve none of it, not a single ounce—” 

“Simon—” She strained out, voice higher than usual from the way he was squeezing her. In his panic to get out his apology, he didn’t notice. 

“I’ve gotta get this out before it’s too late.” He said, shaking his head while the shaking in his hands resumed. “All you were tryin’ to do was love me, I was a downright twat for even thinkin’ that you were pullin’ me down.” Simon took a shuddering breath, shaking his head. “Princess you deserve more than that—” 

“Can’t breath, Simon.” He moved back quickly, eyes growing wide as he let her got and watched her take a gulping breath, hand on her chest. He just couldn’t do anything fucking right. “Love— I’m so sorry—” 

She held up the hand that wasn’t placed on her knee for support before looking up at him and straightening. There was a long beat of silence as they regarded one another, and she had never looked as beautiful as she did in that moment. “You’re back.” She said plainly, an obvious remark, yet it held more weight than he was expecting. 

“‘Course I’m back.” He responded, taking a step closer and letting his arms fall uselessly to his sides. “Did you think I’d leave you? I’m so sorry hon, I swear that despite all my issues—” 

“Please stop.” Her words silenced him and he felt like she was simultaneously hitting him with a ton of bricks. He was trying to apologize… the one thing he barely ever did. Oh, maybe that was the point. 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think, Simon.” Her words were even, measured. She certainly had. “The way you spoke to me that night wasn’t okay—” 

“Love, I know.” He took a step forward, hands reaching out for her before falling to his sides again. He could tell by her body language that it wasn’t his touch that she needed. “You don’t—” 

“For the love of my own sanity, Simon!” She exclaimed, her hands moving wildly as he took a step back and ducked his head. He had never felt like this before… reprimanded. It was an entirely different feeling than being spoken to by an upper officer when he’s done something wrong on a mission. Instead of anger, all he can seem to feel is immense guilt. “Let me finish! Please! You’re going to want to hear what I have to say and I need to say it without you saying it for me.” 

The beat of silence that echoed between them was vast as he watched her gather her wits and high softly. “Simon.” She began calmly, eyes closing while she spoke to him slower than usual, the evenness astounding him under such heavy pressure. “The way you spoke to me was… not okay. You should have never done that and frankly, I won’t stand for it anymore. You were disrespectful, cocky, and your words were so piss poor.” 

He nodded as she continued, realizing that he might still have a chance. 

“I don’t deserve that and you know it.” She went on, looking up at him with a resolve he couldn’t help but fear and admire. The time apart had truly given her a lot of room to think about what he had done and he felt pride that she was standing up to his shitty attitude like this. Usually, their fights consisted of his poor words, her tears, and a tense make-up that never addressed the true elephant in the room. God, she was so beautiful when he told him what she thought of him…

“You should never speak to me that away again, you understand?” Her finger moved to point at him and he nodded quickly, because she was damn right. “I’m disappointed that you felt it was okay to even yell at me in the first place, let alone say what you did. I had half a mind to leave this flat that night, you know.” 

“And I wouldn’t ‘ave blamed you, love.” He mumbled, taking a slow step closer, testing the shark infested waters and seeing if he would get bit. “You’re right, I was a royal arsehole. I made a mistake and I’ll own up to it. You deserved better than that.” 

He moved closer until there was only their shared breath between them and grabbed her hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m never gonna talk to you like that again. You should be spoken to with respect and I didn’t do that.” 

She nodded slowly then, almost as if she was expecting him to fight and discovering that there was no fight left in the both of them. Her hand clasped strongly around his and she let out a long and deep breath, stepping closer and pressing into his chest. “I missed you, Si.” She whispered and Simon took that as the ‘all clear’, wrapping his arms around her tightly, nose in her hair. “Love, you’ll never know how much I missed ya. So fucking badly.” He choked out, shaking his head while he held her. They stood there for a long while, holding each other before she pulled away and looked up at him. 

“I mean it, you know.” She said seriously, frowning softly while her eyes searched his. “Don’t do that shit again, understand?” 

“Yes ma’am.” He grumbled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he chuckled, grabbing her again. “Anything for my love. I’ll stop being an arsehole, I promise.” She nodded, letting him hold her and took a deep breath. 

She leaned into him, the tension finally bleeding from her shoulders as the silence in the flat settled into something peaceful, rather than hollow. There were still conversations to be had, scars to heal, and a relationship to mend, but as she stood there in the steady, solid embrace of the man she loved, she knew they’d find their way back to solid ground. He was home, and for tonight, that was enough.

Hope you enjoy this one, whoever is reading. I will not post constant smut on this blog. I strive to have more fluffy content than smutty as I value that more. I feel that is an important note now that this is my second post, the first one being smut. I will most likely write a pin about this as well as an introduction about my hopes for this small space.

Thank you all, those who have decided to follow me after my first post, I appreciate you greatly!

“Fuckin’... shit.” Price choked out, chest heaving whilst his arm tightened just that much harder around your neck, coming dangerously and deliciously close to asphyxiation. “Oh dove. Oh beautiful little dolly you feel that? You feel the way you’re making me twitch?”

John knew that you were long since gone and had been for quite some time. The drool dripping past your soft lips and into the pillow was enough of a tell to inform him that he had been fucking past the point of no return. “Fuck!’ He grunted, rolling his shoulder back to shove his face into the crook of your neck, body crushing you beneath the mattress, hips slamming against your ass. “Dove… oh baby. Pussy feels… ngh!” His teeth sank into your neck, veins popping in his arms as his bicep tightened just slightly around your neck. “Say you love it. I know you love it.” He grunted in your ear, licking your neck and over the red marks he had left. 

“I love it…!” You slurred, tongue beginning to loll out which earned a fucked out smile from the older man. “Please, John! Please!” You whined, fingers moving to rake at his corded forearm gently constricting your airways. Price knew how to do this correctly, he knew he wasn’t hurting you and you knew that too, dirty whore. 

You just liked the theatrics of it all, even in this state you were utterly pleased out of your mind. He knew your begging would begin in a moment, begging to let you go all while trying your best to fuck back on his thick cock like a slut. This game you played was your favorite, and he knew what to do to play along.

“Can’t…!” You slurred, nails leaving trails of red across his forearms and lower bicep, tears leaving your eyes in slow drips. “John…!” Oh, now pathetic you were. How deceiving your voice sounded as you made your pleads. If he didn’t already know your true intentions, he would have stopped. 

“‘Can’t’ what, dove?” He growled as the seductive sounds from your pussy made his eyes roll back for a moment. Fuck, you felt so fucking good, wet and warm and all for him. His missus was truly a goddess sent to earth to tempt him in every way possible and who was he to deny her? His other hand, previously preoccupied wrapped in your hair, moved to grasp at your belly, feeling the rolls spill over his hand all while his hips involuntarily shoved his cock deeper inside of you. “Fuck you, dolly. God I could hold you for the rest of my life.” 

“No, John…” You moaned, entirely too sloppy, leaning your head back. Your lips quivered. a silent plea for him. He obliged, a nasty smile spreading across his face as his tongue began to fight against yours. God you were his obsession. Every part of you was so delectable he was sure that if he was ever asked what his last meal would be, the words leaving his mouth would be “my wife”. 

“You’re forgetting.” He grunted, cock twitching so sharply in your pussy your moan would have awoken neighbors if you two had any. “Sweet girls use their voice, don’t they? Fuck…” His hips jerked and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold the impending orgasm from approaching. Missus always came first, no matter what. 

“Please… Oh, John please!” Price grunted loudly, hips jerking involuntarily, he was so fucking close. Not him, it wasn’t his turn, he needed to wait. But fuck, your pussy was screaming for his load. “Say it.” He growled, hand moving from your belly to your hair and yanked back to expose that pathetic expression, oh he loved that look. “Fuckin’ say it, dove. Need to hear it, say it!” 

“Make me cum!” The request was practically a scream and John got to work at your heavenly divine command. “Whatever the missus wants–” He grunted, one hand lifting your hips as the other braced himself on the wall in front of the headboard, sweat glistening across his skin. “She gets.” 

First post after deleting a previous account and not shifting it anywhere else. Lost the plot a little at the end, never really been good at ending smut lol. Hope you enjoy for whoever reads this!