#Assignment helps Manchester
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
hellothetutorshelp-blog · 12 days ago
Text
Assignment Help in Manchester
Tumblr media
Get top-notch assignment help & essay writing services in Manchester.  Expert assistance for academic success. Contact us now any time for a better solution! Assignment Help in Manchester Get top-notch assignment help & essay writing services in Manchester. Expert assistance for academic success. Contact us now any time for a better solution!https://www.thetutorshelp.com/assignment-help-in-manchester.php
0 notes
onlinetutorhelps · 1 year ago
Text
1 note · View note
oceantornadoo · 5 months ago
Text
ch3 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)
tw: reader has an anxiety attack. price is a traditional possessive mafia man with strong opinions. comments about body image and eating habits but not from reader, her family just sucks. drunk shenanigans occur.
masterlist | next
-
The week before the wedding flies by. Simon tells you he’s already contacted a planner, which is a phone call you can’t imagine him making. Everything left to do only concerns you personally. Dress fittings, shoe shopping, ring sizing. No one expects you to want to say over decorations or location. No one asks your opinion on bridesmaid dresses or table centerpieces. The fantasy of your wedding, a princess fairytale, is shoved to the back corner of your mind, next to hope for a normal family and a love marriage. 
London has better options than Manchester, so you’re flown out on Tuesday for final fittings and a makeup run-through. Unfortunately, your aunt meets you there. She was your father’s older sister, an absolute hag who tormented your mother. Aunt Riley, a title she demands. You aren’t given the honor of addressing her by her first name. That’s not for children out of wedlock.
“I look like a piece of cake. A fluffy, tulle-shaped piece of cake.”
It turns out that Aunt Riley is the wedding planner. She’s already picked your dress, without your consent. It’s monstrous, with layers and layers of fabric at the skirt and a too-tight corset at the top. Long lace sleeves, like from an old lady’s doilies, squeeze the life out of your arms. It’s at least a size too small everywhere. Your lungs barely have room to expand. Aunt Riley states that it’s all the rage with modern brides, and you think someone must have made this as a joke. It’s a sorry imitation of an actual wedding dress, not something designed for use.
“Well, let’s hope it sweetens up Mr. Price. Heaven knows your backtalk won’t.” She huffs out, circling the platform you stand on like a shark sniffing blood in the water. “Let’s take in the waist a quarter inch. Longer sleeves, hide more of her shoulders. Can’t have the families thinking she’s a bastard and a harlot.” She orders the tailor, who scurries out of sight with her notes. You sigh, inwardly, since you can’t actually breathe right now. At least there’s a room at the Ritz Carlton waiting for you after this. The no-expenses-spared part of the wedding has a singular benefit - a jacuzzi you could get swallowed in. You only saw it in passing once you landed, but it’s been calling your name like a siren.
“And you must remember not to frown at him, it gives you lines. Are you listening?” Her voice goes up an octave, shaking you out of your thoughts. “Sorry, what?” Aunt Riley rolls her eyes, downing the complimentary glass of champagne the tailor handed her before approaching you. “I was telling you how to please your husband. You can start by wiping the frown off your face. This is a very important alliance. Do not ruin it for your brother.” Your brother. The one person in the world you’d put up with Aunt Riley for. He’s sacrificed so much for a Made life, even the freedom to love freely, so you can’t dishonor him by ruining this wedding. Your stomach grows heavy, and whether it’s the corset or her words, dread coils in your belly. You straighten your shoulders, then nod at her advice that you will not be taking. John deserves a cordial marriage, nothing more. You will not be hiding your frowns for him. 
Luckily, the tailor frees you from your prison wedding gown before you faint. Aunt Riley delivers you to the hotel with a snail face mask in one hand and instructions for a seven-day juice cleanse in another. Your bodyguards, silent men assigned by your brother, help you out of the car and then station themselves outside of the hotel. “Do this every night, you must rid yourself of those eyebags by Saturday. Start the cleanse tonight, hopefully, it’ll get you to fit in the dress. I’ll be here at 8 am sharp tomorrow for ring sizing. Child, are you listening?” You nod numbly, snatching the products in her hands before dashing to the lobby and into the elevator. “And practice smiling!” Her words are drowned out by the rushing of blood in your ears.
The elevator operator knows your floor number, a fact you’d find creepy if you weren’t trying to stop an anxiety attack. Ring sizing. The dress fitting was a laugh but this is…real. A ring is a collar around your throat, it’s your name in ink on the dotted line. The reality is sinking in - John Price will be your husband. You open your door, body on auto, dumping your aunt’s products in the trash before entering the bathroom. The thought of a bath is laughable, not when you think you could drown. A look in the mirror reflects a frazzled woman in the mirror, with eyebags and discoloration and acne scars, and is that a pimple? You are not the type of woman to be John Price’s wife. You are a bastard and he cemented that fact and now you’re marrying him. You’re betraying your mother when you think about it. He and his father got you sent away and you’re here ring sizing. The logical part of your brain argues that he was sixteen, that your father acted of his own accord, but you aren’t listening to logic right now.
The bathroom walls start closing in, but you’re faster. Running like your ass is on fire out of your room, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. You’re on the second top-most floor but it doesn’t matter, anything to get you out. Time flies in a blur, your vision only clearing once you reach the lobby. Instead of walking out the front, where your brother’s men are, you find a side door, escaping into a street alley. Outside. Fresh air. Now.
The sun’s set. You forgot your gun in the safe. Ditched your bodyguards. Nothing matters as you jog down a cracked London sidewalk, not stopping until you find a park. If you can call it that. It’s a strip of green grass, tucked between two buildings like someone forgot about it. You find the lone bench, tucked behind a tree, and sit, lungs heaving with effort.
You could leave, right? Abandon the contract, hightail it out of London. Go back to your mother…who will just shake her head and tell you you should have expected nothing less from the mafia families. She’ll let you stay, of course, but Simon’s still got his men following her and you would be right back where you started.
You could find a city. One without mafia, without men who think they’re gods playing fate. Get a job, a fake name. Except…how could you fake certificates without your connections? Where is the mafia not? It seems the tendrils of your captors reach across the whole British island, choking out any who disobey.
Maybe John would let you out. If you begged nicely, on your knees. He’d smirk and say he’s won the whole game, this back-and-forth that’s played out for years. Except he wouldn’t let you, not really. You’re not stupid enough to ignore the political factors involved, the whispers of the Shepherd family encroaching on his territory. He needs your brother's weapons and he won’t give them up just because you ask.
There are no options. You’re trapped, a mouse in a well-laid trap. Your breathing comes out fast and stunted, lungs rasping with overuse. You try to put your head between your legs, arms on your head like Simon taught you. Five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear…Except you can’t see anything. Tears glazing over your vision and this is the end, it has to be-
“Nice night.” A man is next to you on your bench. You didn’t even notice, too caught up in your thoughts. It’s enough of a distraction to pull you out of your mental spiral, breath still coming out too short. You train your eyes on the ground in front of you, afraid if you turn to the man next to you, you might keel over from anxiety. “Huh?” Very witty, idiot.
“Said it’s a nice night. North Star’s out, look.” You shake your head, lacing your fingers behind your head to keep your gaze down. The alternative is too frightening to consider. There’s no way he’s here, this thorn in your side. “Pick your head up and find it, sweetheart.” Even though your brain fog, you can’t shake off irritation at his demanding tone. You pick your head up, searching the sky until you find a star brighter than the rest, blinking at you like an old friend.
“Good girl. Now look, squirrel’s got ‘imself in a tight spot.” You drop your gaze and sure enough, a squirrel is fighting with a takeaway bag at the edge of the park. It’s silent for a bit, the sound of a paper bag ripping echoes through the air as you watch two foes battle. John doesn’t say a word, content to watch you squirm with the fact that he’s talked you off the ledge. You finally drop your hands from the back of your head, setting them in your lap like a prim lady and not an anxious mess. Your thumbs twiddle, itching to pick at your skin, but you can’t because there’s ring sizing tomorrow. Aunt Riley will surely notice. There’s ring sizing tomorrow…
“This has got t’ be the only spot of green in London.” You snort. He’s not wrong. “How’d you find me?” You whisper. He hands you a handkerchief, embroidered JP in dark blue letters, and you dab at the tears in your eyes. “Got men watchin’ yer door, elevator an’ the lobby. Don’t trust y’r brother’s men. Knew the second ya left without anythin’ on ya. Bloody stupid, if y’ ask me.” Of course, he’s correcting your anxiety attack etiquette. Typical John Price.
“Wasn’t thinking about my weapon, to be honest. I’m surprised you came here yourself since you’ve got all these men watching me. Certainly one of them wanted to visit this lovely park.” You finally chance a look at him and instantly regret it. Starlight is rare in London proper but it somehow frames his face perfectly. Even the streetlamps cater to him, highlighting the cut of his beard and the blue of his eyes. You hand him the used handkerchief and he grabs it lightly, callused fingers brushing yours before pulling away. It’s the first time you’ve ever touched, a fact you’re hyper-aware of.
“Someone tells me my wife can’t breathe, ‘m not sendin’ my men to take care of it.” He tucks the handkerchief into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “Not your wife yet.” He clucks his tongue. “Yet.” Well, you can’t argue with that. “Thanks for checking on me, I guess.” It almost physically pains you to say, especially once he grins and turns his head in your direction. “A thank you? Y’ sure yer feelin’ okay?” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest like this is a casual conversation. “I was trying to be polite. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten how to insult you.” A corner of his mouth ticks up, almost a smile. He puts his hands on his knees and rises like an old man and not someone nine years your senior.
“It won’t be so bad, I promise.” He holds out a hand for you to take and you do, immediately dropping it and stepping away once you’re up. “What won’t be?” You ask like you don’t know. He gestures between the two of you like it’s a given. “This. The wedding. Marriage. ‘M not yer new jailer, sweetheart, I promise.” In a moment of vulnerability, you swallow and turn away, trying to find the North Star again. The clouds hide it, light pollution preventing you from your search. “You promise?” You whisper, almost to yourself. 
“I do.” He says it with the same conviction you imagine he’ll use at the ceremony. A slight pressure touches your shoulder, the ghost of a reassuring squeeze, and you turn away from the sky, eyes focused on his suit jacket. “Let’s get you back. ‘S nippy out here.” You nod mutely, and that’s that.
-
Friday is your hen-do with your Riley cousins, getting drunk at a Price-owned club called Midnights. They’re a bit catty but you can’t blame them for the environment they grew up in. You’re given a mission of getting absolutely smashed, enough to forget about your impending wedding. Drinks after drinks are put into your hand, and you’re pretty sure every type of clear liquor is now in your belly. The music has seeped into your pores, veins thumping with your last night of freedom. Like you ever had any at all.
“Are you excited for tomorrow night?” A distant third cousin whisper-shouts into your ear, waggling her brows at the insinuation. You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your fifth martini before answering. “Not really.” She groans, tugging her sister into the conversation. “Come on, I heard he’s great in bed.” Her sister nods with blown pupils, almost spilling her drink on your white dress. “He fucks like an animal. My friend Marie fucked him and,” she hiccups, almost losing her train of thought. “She said he made her come like, five times. He never fucks the same woman twice though. Wonder howitllbewithyou…” She slurs the last sentence, trailing off until she perks back up at the DJ’s change in song. “This is my song, we have to dance!” She drops her drink to tug you onto the dancefloor and you go laughing, thoughts of John Price drifting away as you dance like no one’s watching.
Mafia girls get a bad rep. Your cousins are called innocent or shallow, but they’re the best company you’ve had in years. You soak up all the estrogen in the room, knowing you might never have this kind of night again. It’s exhilarating, to have fun while knowing you’re in a place where you can’t get hurt. At least five Riley bodyguards surround the dance floor and no annoying brother is telling you what to do. You even slipped Aunt Riley, telling her you were doing a spa night at the hotel. If this is what being Mrs. Price is like, it might be worth it.
“Come on, bathroom break!” You swim in a sea of pink bridesmaid party dresses, only on solid footing once you’re in the bathroom. There’s no line, thankfully, but a group of three girls are writing on each other in the corner with a…Sharpie?
“Temporary tattoos! Do you want one?” They offer with beaming smiles - the camaraderie of drunk girlhood. Before you can open your mouth, your cousin snatches the marker and turns you to face the mirror. “No peeking.” The back of your dress is low, almost to your ass, something a Made Man would never approve of. Good thing none of them were invited. Sweaty hands hold you in place as the marker scratches over the skin of your back. She finishes by smacking her lips like she’s eaten a good meal. “Ok, go look.” You turn in the mirror and blink once, twice. You might be drunk but not that drunk, right? Because there’s no way she’s drawn you a tramp stamp in the shape of a heart with the initials JP written in loopy handwriting. It reminds you of a certain handkerchief and you shut that thought down before it settles in.
“Wanker!” You squeal. She throws the marker back to the girls before making a run for her life with you hot on her heels. You’re grinning the whole time.
-
John does not have a stag party. He was planning on taking the night for himself, leaving Gaz in charge of overseeing the dozens of clubs he owns and watching for trouble. He’s just sat down with a bottle of scotch, aged ten years, he’s been aching to try when his phone rings.
“Price.” His voice comes out gruff, probably due to lack of sleep. Since the night he found you on that bench, he hasn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep. Can’t even take a midafternoon kip. Your frightened face haunts his dreams, the knowledge that you had an anxiety attack because you’re marrying him. He didn’t realize how much you hated him. He hopes it’s only dislike, not fear. If you’re scared of him, there’s not much evidence in his favor. He’s got a list of bodies that could fill a village, and there’s blood in the cracks of his palms. Not exactly husband material.
“Sir, we’ve got an…issue.” Gaz doesn’t continue, which is one of Price’s biggest pet peeves. “Spit it out, Garrick.” Gaz sighs on the other end. “Your fiancee is here at Midnights, doin’ her hen do. Bunch of Riley girls swarmin’ the place. They’ve got guards, but I thought you ought t’ know.” Fuck. Midnights is Price’s biggest club, the easiest to get lost in with its three floors and dark hallways. Because of the layout, it’s definitely on the dirtier side of his business. It’s where he takes clients he doesn’t trust. It is not the place for his fiancee. Wife in twenty-four hours.
He abandons the unopened scotch with a sigh, grabs his coat, and calls his driver. It’s one of Nikolai’s men, renowned for their discreet nature and speedy driving. Luckily, he’s staying at a flat near the church, so he’s only a few minutes away from the club.
“Good evening, sir.” John nods his head in acknowledgment, then dials up a contact on his phone he’d rather not talk to. “You didn’t think t’ tell me she was out?” His tone is firm while Ghost murmurs to someone on the other end. Probably Soap if John had to put money on it. The man sounds a bit out of breath. “Whatdya mean she’s out? Ain’t she doin’ her hen do at the hotel?” Fuck, you didn’t even tell your brother. At least you took guards with you. “She’s at one of my clubs with ‘er cousins. She’ll be safe but Jesus Ghost, ya need t’ be on this. Be glad I’m ‘er keeper now.” Simon swears under his breath. “Her aunt’s s’posed t’ be watchin’, guess they gave her the slip. She’s smart, not gonna run. Check in an’ let me know.” Like John’s going to take orders from a man who can’t even keep an eye on his sister. Someone needs to lay down the law.
He’s at the club in minutes, greeting his bouncer before going in. Gaz meets him at the front, guiding him to the second level so they can look over the crowded dance floor. Sure enough, John spots a few bodyguards at every corner, suited men who are firmly not dancing. It takes a second, but the white outfit you’re wearing makes it easier to spot you. You’re surrounded by girls in pink, presumably your cousins. Before Gaz can comment, he heads down the stairs, pushing his way through the crowd. Even on the verge of blacking out, people recognize who he is, stepping back to make a clear path to you.
“The fuck are you doin’ here?” It’s not the smoothest delivery he’s ever had, but the image of you is pissing him off. Smudged lipstick that he’d rather not think about and sweat dripping obscenely into the cleavage of your dress. It’s white with a dip in the front, giving him a generous view of tits that are about to be legally his. You’re so drunk that it takes you a second to recognize him, a fact that irritates him even further.
“Dancing! Ever heard of it?” You smile and that’s how he knows you’re wasted because you’ve never smiled at him like that. All teeth like you’re genuinely greeting him. Fuck it. He grabs you by the waist and you squeal. Unexpectedly, you’re docile in his arms, following him willingly as he pulls you off the dancefloor and into a quieter section. When he removes his hand, which ended up on the small of your back, it’s…black? A closer look reveals that it’s marker ink.
“The fuck’s on y’r back?” You gasp, then turn so he can see. A surge of blood goes straight to his cock, too fast for him to remember this is you, the Riley brat. There’s a heart with his initials above your ass. It’s a little smudged but the insinuation is clear. It’s something he’ll see tomorrow if you’re in his bed. Which he’s not even sure he wants. He thinks.
“My cousin did it, not me I swear. I would not have drawn that, trust me.” You gush, turning back around. You overshoot and almost stumble, but he reaches out just in time with a steadying hand on your waist. You frown, then shrug.
“Ya didn’t tell me where ya were goin’ and you slipped your aunt. That’s not,” you cut him off by swaying your hips, clearly more into the music than his voice. His grip tightens as he gets a better feel of the fat on your waist, a sensation he didn’t know he needed. “That’s not acceptable. Don’t do it again.” You roll your eyes, then pull back out of his grip. There’s a black smudge on your dress now, but you don’t notice. “Yessir.” You even mock salute, smirking. “You gonna end my last night of freedom? Put me in timeout? Thought you weren’t my new jailer, John.” You draw out the syllables of his name to show your irritation. Your sentence references the promise he made, the one he’s already regretting.
He doesn’t even know what he wants by coming here. He’s a Made Man, and can't have his wife running around freely. And he needed to know you’re safe, sure, but then what? This is his club, there are no worries of any enemies. He’s vetted every manager and knows every bouncer and bartender. You should have told him, that’s true, but he’s not going to drag you out and make a scene. You’re owed a last night of freedom. So why does he want to stay and get a drink, watch your hips sway on the dancefloor without a care in the world? It must be something in the air, some drug residue that’s got into his system.
“Just- tell me next time. And from now on, I’ll be assignin’ y’r guards. Y’r goin’ t’ be my wife, need t’ be under my protection.” You snort, then sip your drink. “Sure. Can’t wait to be Mrs. Price as of tomorrow. You done throwing a hissy fit?” In a moment of teenage retaliation, he takes your drink and throws it out in a nearby trash can. An angered gasp escapes you.
“See you tomorrow, sweetheart. Try not to look too hungover.”
-
When you wake up the next morning, it’s to a pounding headache and a stern Aunt Riley. 
“Cheer up, you insolent child. It’s your wedding day!”
You groan and shut your eyes. This has to be a nightmare.
-
did reader and john just have a moment??? or two???? wedding is next :)
-
@heretoreadanddrinktea
@peachyxrosie
@joufrance
@galactict3a
@exactlyyoungchaos
@trulovekay
@alleycc
@abox-of-rocks
@orangehibiscus
@mismatchsposts
@nova-willow-541
@throwing-up-butterflies
@grossitsluca
@evans-dejong
@popcornlauncher
@earthcole
@backfromthedeadhehehe
@baduzzxy
@thegreyjoyed
@cutelibrariangf
@dearghostling
@mrsmalfoy1005
837 notes · View notes
sketchyfandomgirl · 1 year ago
Text
Simon Riley has a Medusa tattoo. It’s never seen since he keeps it hidden beneath his clothes at all times. But it’s small, and almost easily missed at first glance. Only a few select people know about the tattoo.
Like you.
Simon trusts you the most out of everyone he knows. Probably more than his best friend Soap. Probably even the Captain. You knew Simon the longest by almost more than a decade, as you grew up together after your family moved to Manchester.
You were there when he decided to enlist in the military. Being there to see him off, attending his graduation from boot camp and tapping him out alongside his mother.
He trusts you a lot. Enough to be an emergency contact if anything were to go wrong.
You got a call, all the way from America, in Texas if you can believe it, that one Simon Riley has been found near the Texas-Mexico border half dead and was in recovery. So you booked a flight to Texas that very night. Wasn’t Simon supposed to be on some covert mission? What the hell happened?
Simon was reluctant to talk about what happened, but he eventually opened up about the horrors he endured while he was captured by Roba.
The violence, especially the sexual abuse that Simon wouldn’t even tell his assigned therapist. You were Simon’s safety, his most entrusted person who he could be more open with.
It would take years to help him heal.
But eventually, he did start to heal from the process, and asked you to come along with him to a tattoo appointment.
It was there, Simon’s sign of addressing his pain was finally closing to an end, did he get a Medusa tattoo.
680 notes · View notes
thinkwosolife23 · 2 years ago
Text
Protect Her, Alessia Russo
Tumblr media
Being a police officer was an incredibly demanding job; both physically and mentally. You had seem some things that no human should ever had to see, you were made to work stupidly long hours and everyday you were putting your life on the line.
But it was your dream job. It was you ever wanted to do. From being a little girl, you always dreamed over becoming a police officer. You dreamed of making a difference in the world, to help make the world a safer place to be in. Being a woman made the process of becoming a police officer a hell of lot more difficult. People had constantly doubted your capabillity and your quality as a police officer because of your gender. So, it fuelled you all the more. And at 22, you stand as the youngest Chief Constable of the police force.
Having your dream job was amazing but nothing will ever beat the feeling of being able to go home to your dream girl. You had met Alessia at the Euros. Along with a few others, you were assigned as security for the England Women's Team throughout the Euros. You had managed to muster up the confidence to ask her out after the Euros Final and it all went from there. Up until a few months ago, you and her were over 4 hours away from each other. Her being in Manchester and you being in London. But when she signed for Arsenal you had asked her to move in with you and it had been more than a dream to live with her. You had now been together for a little over a year.
Speaking of your girl, you had just got back home after a long and grueling 12 hour shift. All you wanted was to be with your lover.
"Sweetheart, I'm back home." You shouted as you made your way into your home, taking your work boots and vest off on the way leaving them bye the front door.
"I'm upstairs, Babe. I'm just on a live." She souted back to you, causing you to run up the stairs making your way to yours and Alessias shared bedroom.
There she was, sat by her dressing table chatting away to her phone as if there was nothing else around her. You walked over to where she was sat, wrapping your hands over her shoulders before kissing her forehead. As soon as she felt your prescence , she jumped up from her seat. Standing in front of you, wrapping her arms around your neck, leaning up to place multiple pecks on your lips, not wanting to show too much PDA on her live.
You went and sat where she was sat in front of her phone before patting your lap signalling her to sit. Her arms coming around your neck whilst one of yours was wrapped possessively around her waist and the other resting on her thigh making sure she didn't slip off you.
"I've missed you." You whispered to her, as you tucked your head in the crook of her neck placing a kiss there.
"I've missed you too, but babe we're on a live." She laughed slightly, her hands came to pull your head out of her neck. You immediately falshed her an innocent smile, telling her that you didn't think you were doing anything wrong.
You and Alessia spent the next half an hour on live, talking to the fans and answering all sorts of questions, before you both said bye and ended the live.
As soon as Alessia put her phone down and ended the video, you stood up with her still in your hold. You turned around and put her on your bed before climbing over the top of her. Your hands resting either side of her head, hovering you face just inches away from hers.
"I forgot how good you looked in uniform." She said whilst grabbing your top, pulling you down so your lips met hers. The kiss messy and passionate; not being able to have each other's physical touch for the last 12 hours was really showing.
"Hmm, is that so?" You questioned, pulling your lips from hers before dipping your head into her neck going for the spot you know makes her like putty in your hands.
You were suddenly distracted from your current activities when you heard a smashing sound coming from downstairs. Alessia body just froze whilst you quickly sat up, recognising that someone else was in your house. The sound of smashing and footsteps ran through your house.
Your officer instincs soon kicked in, standing up to make your way out of your bedroom to make your way downstairs.
"Less, darling i've got to go downstairs." You whispered to her, trying to make sure that you weren't heard.
"Y/N, i'm scared." She told you, the fear she held was evident on her face, her eyes becoming red showing that she was trying not to cry.
You reached over and pulled her so she was sat on the edge of your bed, you standing inbetween her legs. You hands gently grabbed her face so she was looking up at you before telling her, "Hey, look at me. I will not let anything happen to you. I'll do anything, everything to make sure I protect you. I'll keep you safe. But sweetheart, to do that, I need to go downstairs."
"Let me come with you."
"No, Alessia. I can't risk that. I need you stay up here." You told her sternly, hoping the use of her name re-enforced your seriousness.
Her arms gripping tight around your waist, her face digging in to your stomach.
"Less. I need you stay in here, I need you to call the police for me."
"No one's gonna be calling the police!" A low, unknown voice stated but before you could turn around you felt something smash against your head, causing you to drop to the floor.
You heard Alessia gasp at what she had just seen. You managed to reach for the back of your head and when you brought your hand back round, it was covered in blood.
It took you another few minutes to again understand what was happening, the impact on your head was hard enough to make you feel dizzy and confused.
You looked over one side and Alessia was still sat on the bed, completely frozen in her spot, looking down at you. Tears streaming down her face.
You turned your hear and looked to see that whoever was in your house, was face deep routing through yours and Alessias drawers. This was your chance, your only chance.
You had to keep her safe. You had to protect Alessia.
So, you managed to muster up the energy to quickly get up and run towards him and take him down to the ground.
Then, it became a brawl. You managed keep him on the ground until another spell of dizziness hit you giving him the opportunity to take control. To which he did, kneeing your harshly in the stomach. Rolling the pair of you over, so that now he was on top: you tried to fight him off but your dazed state was clearly making you weaker.
And then you felt it.
He had put a knife straight into your stomach before pulling it out meaning that a substancial amount of blood was pouring out of your stomach.
Before anything else could happen, he was quick to get up and dash out of your house. The realisation of what he had just done was kicking in.
As soon as he left the room, Alessia came running towards you. Taking her hoodie off, putting over the bleeding mess on your stomach. You groaned at the pressure that was on your stomach, the pain was becoming unbearable. You felt Alessia pull your head onto her lap, beginning to feel her tears falling onto your face.
Your vision was becoming blurrier and sounds were muffled but you could just about make out that Alessia was on the phone.
You could feel your eyes beginning to close, the blood loss becoming too much for your body to cope with.
"Baby, NO! You need to stay awake for me. The ambulance are on the way." She said, placing a kiss on your forehead. Her voice muffled, due to her crying.
"I love you, Less." You told her, through ragged breathing and slurred words.
Alessia could hear how strained your voice was, the pain you were in was clearly showing through your voice.
"No, no. You don't need to tell me that. Baby, your okay." Her tears flowing worse now, the realisation of what you were actually trying to tell her was not what she wanted to think about.
But you didn't get the chance to reply, your body shutting down due to your pain and the amount of blood you had loss.
Alessia's crying was the only sound running through your house as she looked down to see that you had closed your eyes and your body had become a dead weight on her legs.
The ambulance and police got there minutes after that. The paramedics were quick to take you to the ambulance and rush you to the hospital. The whole journey Alessia hand never left your, right the way until they had to take to you to hospital.
Alessia sat there in the waiting room waiting for news about you. She had rang her parents who were currently in Manchester so it would take them a couple of hours to reach the hospital. So, she rang Leah who was straight down to the hospital.
"Oh, Less. I'm so sorry sweet." She told her whilst sitting next to her wrapping her into a hug.
Alessia leaning into Leah's hold, the weight of the afternoon completely taking a toll on her body. Leah couldn't tell her she weren't worried, Alessia's reaction didn't exactly bring any sort of reassurement to her. On Alessia's team, Leah and Ella were definatly the ones you were closest too. The amount of double dates Alessia had dragged you on with Ella and Joe was just insane,
Alessia were waiting another couple of hours before anything happened, it was getting closer to the time where everyone was made to leave the hospital but Alessia still had no news.
"I'm not going. Just can someone please tell me whats going on." She told one of the docters, tears flowing on her face all over again.
"Miss Russo. Y/N Y/L/N, her surgery went well, she is stable but she needs rest, which is why we have put her into a coma. I suggest you go home and get some sleep before seeing her." The doctor told Alessia, re-assuring her that things went aswell as they could.
"C'mon Less, you can stay at mine tonight and we can come back tommorow and see her, yeah." Leah said, putting her arms over Alessias shoulder leading her out of the hospital.
The next few days were a blur for Alessia. She didn't go to training but Leah had explained why she wasn't there and Jonas had contacted Alessia letting her know that everyone was thinking of you and her. Her parents and brothers had got to the hospital the next morning.
Alessia spent all day by your bedside: holding your hand, telling you her favourite memories and what she wants to do with you in the future.
4 days after your surgery, the doctors were happy with how your body was healing and took the tubes away that were helping you breath. Meaning your were breathing by yourself again.
The next day, Alessia was in the hospital as early as she could be, exactly like the other days. Making her way towards your room, sitting by your bed, taking ahold of your hand.
But today was different, she finally felt you try and squeeze her hand.
"Y/N, baby. Can you hear me?" She asked you, her voice soft so she didn't startle you.
"Less?" You groaned. Your face scrunching up as your eyes were reacting to the bright light above you.
"Yeah, i'm here. I'm right here." Her eyes beginning to water, her emotional side getting the better of her.
"Please don't cry, i'm okay."
"I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you." She said whilst crying still, both her hands now gripping yours.
"Come here, Less." You slid over to the side of your bed so that Alessia could lay there aswell.
She carefully got up onto your bed, lifting her arm up so you could rest your head on her chest. You groaned as you lent down on her, the pain was still there in your stomach. You wrapped your arms around her waist whilst one of hers gently rubbed your back, the other pushing your hair out of your face.
"Hey, it'll take more than some scrawn to kill me off. You stuck with me, love." You told her, trying to make light of the situation.
"I'm perfectly fine with that." She told you, laughing at your way with words.
"I love you, Y/N"
"I love you too, Less. So much."
657 notes · View notes
lovehotelreservation · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
chapter three: sweat marks all on my clothes summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) story pairing: f!reader/task force 141 | chapter pairing: f!reader/gaz previous chapter | next chapter
idk why i was so surprised by kyle smoking in mw3 when i first saw it happen ??? like i never got smoker vibes from him but then i saw charli literally smoking at her manchester show when it happened a couple weeks later and then it just clicked 😭🇬🇧
-----------------
It was so damn stuffy in here.
With a tug at his shirt collar, Kyle scanned his gaze across the sight before him: a vast production warehouse up in North West. There was a joke in the group chat that the reason why Simon wasn’t there to accompany you was because he’d likely ditch your side to go take a nap at his apartment.
Alas, he was assigned to go scope out the arena for your Berlin show, making sure that the full layout was committed to memory–a task that Kyle, Johnny and Price would have to take up eventually for your other tour stops.
For now however, today’s itinerary had him escorting you to visit the warehouse of the production company who was in charge of building out your concert stage. The crew had been at work the past few weeks creating a mock set-up of your stage for you to walk around on to test stability, featuring elevated platforms capable of 360 rotation, a grand catwalk, and a placeholder for the main backdrop set piece: a dollhouse.
As to be expected for the Doll.
From where he stood–out where the crowd would usually be–gazing up at the platforms of the stage mock-up reminded him of Super Mario, a thought that brought an amused smile to his lips.
Though, with that comparison in mind–
His gaze shifted up towards the center of the stage to where you stood.
There was a princess right there.
Your expression was contemplative as you discussed possible adjustments that needed to be made for your stage with the lead project designer, who was going over the practicality of some of your proposed concepts to take your concert experience to soaring new heights.
For Kyle, it was nice to see you take on and handle creative control with finesse, to see you–pop star and all–have so much say on how your artistry would be presented.
Considering that his first encounter with you was at your shyest, it was delightful to witness you take on more of an active role instead of having a group of executives pester you on your next move.
After some further deliberation back and forth, it was time to run a quick rehearsal on the platforms–the notes taken during this would be used to make the final adjustments before the production team committed to building out all necessary structures for your tour. The focus was mainly on how comfortable you felt traversing across while dancing.
And so, with the stage cleared, you were led up to one of the tallest platforms present via the rolling handrail that was brought over, waiting for one of your backing tracks to be queued up.
It was meant to be a simple rehearsal so Kyle truly didn’t expect for you to go all out in the slightest, but the subsequent squeaks and stomps of your shoes sliding and stepping over from platform to platform roared otherwise. 
He was in awe.
Seeing you hit your marks, maintaining your grace in tune to the rhythm—how could he not be?
Though he had to admit, as he watched you go from platform to platform, he couldn’t help but feel amused, recalling a day back in Al Mazrah with dangling ropes and exploding convoys.
The only people in attendance were him, the production crew, and your manager and yet you were dancing as though you were performing at Coachella. Witnessing the shift from calm and pondering to fiery and focused–how utterly captivating of a duality.
You didn’t even let it sit at just one track either. If anything, once one track ended, you signaled to have another song play, and then another and another, up until you essentially did a 15-minute set.
By the last song you had queued, you were back on center stage having leapt from one more platform for a dramatic finish, your chest labored as you stared straight ahead, maintaining your refined aura.
In response, Kyle was compelled to bring his hands up for applause, calling out your name with a cheer, “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
From fierce to flustered.
Your narrowed eyes softened as you brought your hands up to your face, smiling from ear to ear as everyone else in attendance joined in with claps and cheers of their own.
Of everyone else in the room, your eyes met his, your gaze and smile bringing warmth to his chest.
What a pretty sight.
“Doll–” The voice of Pearl cut in with a click of her tongue and an exasperated sigh. “–you do know you have a commercial to film later, right? Guess we’ll have to head back to the hotel so you can shower.”
Your expression quickly switched to apologetic as you turned your face towards her direction. 
“Sorry! It’s been a while, you know? I have so much energy pent-up!” Laughing, you then bounced a bit from side to side to emphasize your point.
Pearl’s eyes remained thin.
“Then your fans are in for a hell of a good time with this tour then!” 
Your gaze was back on him as he offered you a thumbs up and a broad smile, even as he wondered just what the hell was your manager’s problem.
Giggling in response, you proceeded to bring your arms up over your head, bringing your hands to your head as you formed a heart, your expression cheerful, your voice the bubbliest he had ever heard you. “Thank you Kyle! I feel so much better with you here!”
Kyle froze, feeling as though he felt the breeze of Cupid’s arrow zip past by his cheek.
Though, seeing you so flushed and warm in the face, he knew you just had to be thirsty, especially with how stuffy the warehouse was. Thankfully, courtesy of the production company, there was a spread of refreshments and snacks set out for everyone on a nearby table by the stage. 
Without a second thought, Kyle lightly jogged over to grab a water bottle before approaching the edge of the stage, holding it out for you to take as you walked over to where he stood. “Cool off a little, yeah?”
“Yes, sir!” You smiled, graciously accepting the bottle before twisting it open and taking a few good gulps down your throat.
The rest?
You poured the rest down the front of your tank top.
Kyle’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets while Pearl’s voice sliced through the air once again amidst gasps and astonished laughter from the production company staff. “Doll!”
Fanning yourself, you apologized sheepishly once more, “Can’t help it! A/C in here is kinda–”
Lips curling into a scowl, Pearl immediately snapped her head towards the production lead, “You! Are you cheaping out on A/C when your top client is here?!”
Holding up his hands in defense, he explained, “Sincere apologies ma’am, since we only have a few of the guys actually here today, we didn’t think A/C was needed–”
Pearl’s heeled foot stomped to the floor as she pointed right at the thermostat towards the other side of the space. “Oh do not give me that!”
But Kyle had since tuned out the conversation, his attention much too focused on you as you sauntered over to the restroom to pat yourself dry.
Of course you were wearing white today.
-----------------
did u know that charli xcx made a song for super nintendo world because now u do
thank you all once again for your continued support of this piece!!! 🥹💖🥹💖 hope you enjoy what's in store for the next chapter:
i've been lookin' at you puttin' holes in your head
any guesses for the next focus 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️
63 notes · View notes
thejohnlockedfemboy · 3 months ago
Text
“Nothing Permanent But Change” pt.1
A cod Omegaverse AU of poly/pack 141
[ tw for foul language and brief mild innuendo ]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
cross-posted on ao3
Tumblr media
Millen Coelho-Grey squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun as he stepped out of the plane.
He had been cramped in the small quarters for several hours now, and he suppressed a groan of relief when he was finally able to stretch his lanky legs. He was reminded again of the doctor’s knee replacement suggestion when his joints popped loudly. Who needed surgery when paracetamol and willpower worked just fine? He gave himself a little shake, like an old dog juddering out its pelt, and then brushed his curly hair out of his eyes. It had grown a bit past what regulations permitted, but Millen hoped that the commanding officer of the new team he had been assigned to wouldn’t notice. He really should get it cut, and he hoped that if he had it shorter, it might help hide the grey that was already touching at his temples. He briefly wondered how close thirty-five was to middle age.
He lofted his duffel bag, scanning the tarmac, and saw a singular figure leaning against the wall of the hanger. They pushed off and stepped forward as Millen’s head swivelled around.
Millen walked to meet them, his gaze zeroing in on the insignia of a lieutenant. He saluted. “Sir.”
The lieutenant was a tank of a man, well over six foot tall, broad across his clavicle and with a thick, muscular torso. His arms were crossed over his chest, bloodshot hazel eyes glaring out from behind a skull mask stitched onto a black balaclava. “At ease,” he grunted, his voice thick with a Manchester accent. “Name’s Ghost. Here to show you to your quarters.”
Millen tried to take a not-so-subtle sniff. By the looks of the lieutenant, he’d have to be an alpha, and yet there was no pheromones at all wafting from him. The only viable scent was gunmetal and the natural salt of sweat.
Ghost made another low noise, and Millen got the feeling that he’d already started off on the wrong foot. “Don’t bother. Nothing there.”
Millen’s face ran hot at that. Yeah, he’d been caught. “Sorry, sir. Force of habit.”
“Better break it, or there’s gonna be some ‘round here that’ll sock you in the nose for being so blatant.” Ghost was already lumbering away towards the gargantuan building of the officer’s quarters. “You might be considered experienced back in the regular infantry, but this is an entire new ballpark. Dynamics aren’t worth dirt here.”
Millen loped to catch up, his legs cramping in protest at being forced to exert themselves so soon. “What d’you mean?”
Ghost shot a glare at the other man. “It means that nobody gives a damn if you’re an alpha or not. You want respect, you earn it with a rifle in your hand and the enemy’s blood on your uniform. Is that understood?”
Millen’s head was already reeling. So much for the welcome wagon. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Ghost made a noise of gruff approval. “Maybe you aren’t entirely stupid. Now, you’ll be meeting the rest of the Task Force soon. We’re a pack, the lot of us, and that now includes you. Unfortunately. Our Captain, Price, is the pack alpha, and he doesn’t tolerate bullshit. Fair warning.”
Millen’s wiry eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re not the pack alpha?”
“The hell gave you that idea?”
“You’re… I don’t know, the stereotypical candidate for the position.”
“Just because I’m big doesn’t mean I run the show. You’d best learn that size doesn’t equal rank here. I’m second-in-command because I’m a lieutenant, not because of my dynamic.”
“Which is…?” Millen probed, deciding to risk prying just a bit.
Ghost shot him a scathing look, one that could have melted glass. “San.”
Millen blinked. A san? That was about as common as a wooly mammoth chilling in a hot tub. Sans were products of trauma or genetic defect that caused them to lack a dynamic. Sometimes it was due to injury or malformed scent glands, sometimes it was from something so terrible that the brain chose to blot it out by completely scrubbing over the entire biological code that made up the foundations of a person’s secondary gender. Either way, they were pariahs even among outcasts.
There was an awkward pause. “Er… sorry about that,” Millen tried. His voice hitched at the end to form more of a question than an allude to sympathy.
Ghost gave a low snarl. Wrong answer. “Don’t be. Walk.”
They entered the officer’s quarters, and Ghost steered Millen towards a large room with three beds but no other soldiers in sight. Only two of the beds looked slept-in, with the last having plain military-standard sheets, a pillow, and nothing else. That third of the room was completely bare, a stark contrast to the personalizations of the rest of the walls and surfaces.
Millen caught sight of a Scottish flag and a shelving unit overstuffed to bowing with books. There was a large shared closet and a portable space heater in the corner, along with a pack of cards and some snacks left out.
“This is your room,” said Ghost. “You’ll share it with Sergeants Kyle Garrick and John MacTavish. Keep it clean, God knows these pups don’t.”
Millen nodded, moving to sling his duffel bag onto the bed. It was full to bursting— army-issued shirts and fatigue trousers, along with a weathered old Nintendo DS and a water bottle with a Halo sticker on it. But those weren’t what took up the limited space, no, that was courtesy of the Doritos. There was at least three of the party-sized bags and several of the smaller, single-serving packages that were probably crushed to crumbs from the rough travel.
Ghost cocked a silent eyebrow.
Millen paid no mind. He had a chronic snacking problem, eating when he was nervous, eating when he was bored, eating when he was upset. It was a quicker fix than therapy, anyway, and he had a metabolism as fast as an Italian greyhound, so he managed to stay up to the fitness level required by his work. He lovingly arranged his crisps on the empty shelf beside his bed and then folded his clothes away.
“Hurry it up,” Ghost ordered. “We don’t have all day for you to piddle around. Captain’s waiting for us in the rec room.”
Millen hurried to stuff his now-empty duffel bag under the bed and catch up with Ghost, who was already halfway down the hall. What was with the hulking man and leaving people behind?
They walked down the long expanse of the hallway, passing dozens of other shared rooms, the communal showers and locker room, along with two bathrooms and several supply closets.
Finally, they made it to the rec room. It wasn’t very big, but was nicely furnished with a large, slightly misshapen plush blob of a couch with an armchair on either side, along with a pool table in one corner and a card table and some folding chairs in the other. The floor was covered with a thick rug and there was a wall-mounted flatscreen telly, cords hanging down to connect to a DVD player and a gaming system that were set up on a small stand.
There were four men in the vicinity, all of whom looked up instantly upon Millen and Ghost’s arrival.
Millen’s nose twitched as he was blasted with the smell of a pack. Pheromones interwoven, the different scents of dynamics combining and mingling to form something unique to the unit. One scent, however, stood out loudly and proudly as that of the pack alpha. Millen recognized the man who must be John Price as the Captain stood and sized the newest member of Task Force 141 up.
Price was an intimidating man, built like a bear with a barrel-like chest and arms as thick as small tree trunks. He wore a boonie hat and his face bristled with greying brown muttonchops and a thick mustache. His expression was stern but not unwelcoming, though there was no doubt that he would have no qualms about scruffing Millen back into his place at the bottom of the pecking order if the younger man got any ideas about trying to take over Price’s position as protector and provider of the pack.
Millen, in turn, lowered his gaze out of instinct. Price gave a barely perceptible nod. They would stand on good terms, at least for now.
Another man, this one shorter but stout and athletic, with piercing blue eyed and a short, scruffy mohawk, stepped forward eagerly. “He th’ new bloke?” he asked, his baritone voice holding a heavy Scottish brogue. He radiated the scent of a happy beta.
Ghost grunted in affirmation. Caveman-esque speech seemed to be his preferred mode of communication. Maybe he was categorized as a san because there was no dynamic type called ‘completely antisocial bastard.’
The Scottish fellow grabbed Millen’s hand in a firm, slightly over-enthusiastic shake that left Millen’s arm wobbly and his introvertive brain begging him to slink away into a corner and hide.
“Ah’m John MacTavish, but ye can call me Soap. S’good tae meet ye, we’ve been needin’ an operative who ain’t still wet be’ind the ears like all the rookies are, ye ken. Whit’s your name?” He snuffled curiously at Millen’s neck, trying to discern his secondary gender and if he would be a good addition to the pack. Millen stepped back, hunching his shoulders a bit and flashing his fangs— Soap was too forward, and he didn’t like it.
“Soap, back off,” Price ordered, making Soap’s excitement deflate visible as the beta scuttled back over to the captain like a trained heeler, mumbling a “Sorry, sir.”
Price turned to Millen. “And you,” he said, addressing the clearly unsettled man, “keep your fangs to yourself. We don’t tolerate that sort of behavior here. You have something to say, you say it with words, not by gettin’ nippy. That clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Millen murmured. He dipped his head.
Price’s ascertaining gaze was steady on the smaller man. There was something off about Millen’s behavior. His file had classified him as an alpha, but he was submitting without hesitance, not even attempting to test the limits as to what dominant behavior he could get away with without Price asserting his authority as both commanding officer and pack alpha. As well as that, Millen’s scent was considerably subdued, almost muted as if he had a scent-blocker patch on, but his neck was bare, showing no signs of one.
“Good. It’s good to have you on the team, Staff Sergeant,” Price rumbled. “I hope there won’t be any issues?”
“No, sir.” 
One of the other men was sniffing the air, having also picked up on Millen’s relatively bland scent. The soldier was the shortest out of the five, with a trim, lightly muscled build and messy blonde hair peeking out from under a ski mask. He had baby-blue irises that shone with an amiable light, and the citrus-sweet scent of an omega clung to him. He made no move forward, but instead stepped a bit closer to the soldier — a lithe man with handsome dark skin, short buzzed black hair, and warm brown eyes — beside him.
“I’m Kyle Garrick,” the second fellow said. “But Gaz is preferred. This here is Roach.” He nodded down towards the shorter man, who gave a small wave.
Millen inclined his head to both of them. His gaze lingered a moment on Roach, feeling a hot flush of instinctive interest, but was interrupted by a low growl from Ghost.
“It’s dinnertime. Chow hall will be closed if we loiter around here.”
Soap perked up considerably at the thought of food. “Ah could eat.”
Gaz laughed. “Soap, you would eat an old leather shoe if it was dunked in gravy.”
“Aye, so? Ah’m hungry. Le’s go.” Soap trotted towards the door, Roach trailing after him. The omega made a gesture for Millen to follow, and so he did, keeping a decent ways back from the pack. Gaz and Soap were already scuffling and talking between themselves with an easy familiarity that made something ache inside of Millen. He couldn’t help but notice the packmarks on the napes of their necks, multiple bite scars pale and defined, where they had been bonded as part of the pack, each of them in turn based on rank and where they stood in the pack hierarchy.
Millen’s own neck was unloved in comparison, without even any faded imprints from a previous pack. Not that he minded. He wasn’t a thing to be owned, an object to be grouped with others only on the orders of whoever had assigned him there.
Ghost drew up beside him as they walked. The san towered over Millen, even though he wasn’t small by any means, and seemed to be studying him.
“Can’t decide if you’re a xi or a zeta,” Ghost finally grumbled. “You aren’t a plain alpha, that’s for sure.”
Millen glanced up at him. “Xi, I think.”
“Socially neutral alpha. Hmph.”
“Issue with that?”
Millen probably shouldn’t have been speaking so tersely with a superior officer, but it was more of a defensive, kneejerk reaction to feeling judged, rather than a desire to be tetchy. It wasn’t the first time someone had deemed him ‘too odd’ to be integrated into a pack setting because of the non-dominant hardwiring in his brain. He simply felt no desire to dominate or compete, felt no primal satisfaction at an omega’s submittance or threat from an another alpha’s power. He still had ruts, though they were short and dry, and still occasionally felt a vague want for a smaller, warm body snuggled up beside him. However, for the most part, he was more than content to watch from the sidelines as everyone else battled it out for control over their instincts.
Ghost’s lips twitched upwards into a small smirk behind his balaclava. “None at all.”
Tumblr media
A comprehensive guide to my omegaverse au can be found here.
This is just basically a crackfic with some fluff and some mild angst. I doubt there will be anything spicy, even in later chapters ( if I make it that far ).
Should I continue the series?
34 notes · View notes
gunnerfc · 1 year ago
Text
Double Trouble | Kyra Cooney-Cross & Matildas!Reader [Platonic]
Summary: Matildas camp becomes a bit more chaotic now that you and Kyra are reunited after you were out for an extended period of time with an ACL injury 
Warnings: there's like one really dirty joke lol
WC: 2.2K
AN 1: wish I could take credit for the dirty joke but i heard it ages ago from some youtube video 
AN 2: in hopes of helping Arsenal fans distract themselves from the game today…
You thanked your cab driver as he pulled up to the hotel the Matildas would be staying in for the upcoming camp in Brisbane. You, despite playing Australia, were one of the last ones to arrive that day due to misplacing your plane ticket. Despite arriving late to the hotel, the team still sitting in the lobby due to a room error the hotel staff made. 
As you entered the lobby, you immediately spotted your teammates, one in particular. You sped up your walking just as Kyra lifted her head when she heard suitcase wheels rolling across the floor. The midfielder quickly jumped from her seat as you two embraced in a tight hug, squealing loudly together. You could hear a few groans and whispered “oh no’s” from some of the older girls on the team which made you and Kyra laugh. 
You and Kyra had a bit of trouble making a reputation within the national team, always finding yourselves in some sort of trouble. The team had been free for your pranks and jokes for a while as you were out with a harsh ACL injury. Now that you were back, you and Kyra had a lot of time to make up for and you would not be holding back. 
“I’ve missed you so much!” Kyra all but yelled in your ear before you two pulled away from each other. 
“Didn’t have too much without me, I hope,” you joked as you took a seat next to Charli, quickly giving her a side hug.
“Of course not,” Kyra replied with a teasing grin on her face that you knew all too well. You were glad to be back with the national team after your injury but you were even happier to get to spend time with one of your best friends. 
“Okay, guys! They got everything sorted out, here are your room assignments. When I pair you up, you can come get your keys and head to your rooms before dinner,” a staff member spoke loudly to get your attention as they walked toward the group. 
They read off their list, pairing up those who were there and leaving everyone else who wasn't there yet for a later time. The staff member was almost done calling out names, only you, Kyra, Alanna, and Mary were left. You were silent hoping that you would get a room with Kyra, making it easier to plan pranks.
“Y/N, you’ll be rooming with…” the staff member read off, pausing as she saw the hopeful glint in your eye. “Alanna,” she finished as she held out two hotel room keys.
You groaned, throwing your head back when she didn’t say Kyra’s name. Alanna dramatically gasped at your actions, hitting you in the arm as she stood up. You rolled your eyes at her but she could see in your smile you didn’t mean anything mean.
You followed the blonde to the elevator, making small talk about her life in Manchester and the things you did while you were out. When you made it to your room, you claimed the bed near the window and got started on putting your things up. 
“What time did they say dinner was,” you asked as you got your training bag ready for training tomorrow morning.
“If you and Kyra had been listening, you would have heard them say seven thirty,” Alanna playfully scolded, throwing you a pointed look when you mocked her.
Dinner came quicker than you thought and you found yourself sitting at a table with some of the other younger players, all of making jokes instead of eating. You and Kyra took turns telling jokes, trying to see who could make your teammates laugh harder. You eventually won after telling a dirty joke, something you were known for on the team. Even in moments when you should be serious, you had a dirty joke ready to go.
Dinner ended without much excitement other than the jokes told and everyone found themselves back in their rooms, ready to hit the training grounds bright and early. You told Alanna goodnight after you were both in bed, both of you falling asleep pretty quickly. 
You groaned some hours later when the alarms you both set went off, the sun peeking in from the curtain hitting your face, making you squint your eyes as you rolled over to turn your alarm off. You let Alanna sleep for a few minutes longer as you went to the bathroom to get ready, hurrying as fast as possible so you could meet Kyra. 
Alanna groaned as you softly shook her shoulder before she sat up, her hair all over the place. You laughed at her bedhead before she shoved you slightly as she got up to get ready. You yelled out to her that you were going to find Kyra as you passed the bathroom, opening the door and coming face to face with the midfielder you were hoping to see. 
The two of you chatted in the hallway before heading toward the conference room that had been turned into a dining hall for the team. “I dare you to tell Steph a dirty joke while we eat,” Kyra knew you would be able to get a reaction out of the captain, one of your usual victims. 
“Say less,” you smirked as you two entered the room, most of your teammates already sitting down with their food. A joke came to your mind as you got your breakfast, grabbing a glass of milk as well as some water. The milk would be useful later for your joke.
You and Kyra joined her fellow Arsenal teammates as well as Hayley and Macca at a table off to the side. You received a chorus of sighs when you sat down causing you and Kyra to laugh at your teammates. The two of you kept your jokes to a minimum as you ate, Kyra giving you a look every so often as she waited for you to say something inappropriate to Steph.
You took sips of the glass of milk you had, prepping it for the joke you were going to tell the defender. You waited until there was a small sip left and everyone at the table was done eating so you had their full attention. 
You gave Kyra a teasing smirk before turning to face Steph, waiting for her to end her conversation with Caitlin. “Hey Steph,” you laughed lightly when she turned away from Caitlin, her focus now on you.
“Do I even wanna know what you have to say,” the captain sighed, earning a quiet round of laughter from everyone else at the table.
“What did the virgin say to her boyfriend after her first blowjob,” you laughed as you took the last sip of milk, keeping it in your mouth instead of swallowing. 
Steph groaned at your words, already shaking her head as she waited for you to finish the joke. Others at the table mumbled things like “oh my god” or simply started chuckling at the first half of your joke. 
“I love you,” you said as you spit the milk back into the glass in front of you. Steph brought her hands to her head in disbelief at your words. 
Your joke earned you loud laughs from Kyra and Hayley as Caitlin and Macca sat across from you with their jaws dropped. You laughed harder at their faces, using a napkin on the table to wipe your mouth. Kyra lifted her hand for a high five which you gave her as she pointed with her other hand toward Steph who refused to meet your eye. 
You didn’t get the chance to get told off by your captain before a staff member told everyone to get their things and head for the bus. You quickly disposed of your trash before you and Kyra headed to your separate rooms to gather your training gear. You met back up with some of the younger players as you headed for the lobby, retelling the joke you told Steph earning another round of laughter. 
You and Kyra sat together on the bus, much to everyone else's dismay. You two spent the whole bus ride messing with Charli and Mary who were sitting in front of you. You two laughed as Charli turned around in an attempt to hit you, though she missed as you quickly moved away. 
The two players in front of you were grateful when the bus pulled into the stadium, thankful to be away from the double-trouble duo that was you and Kyra.
Everyone was quick to change into their boots and training tops before everyone was headed for the pitch. You were one of the first ones out the door and took the opportunity to hide around a corner to scare some of your teammates. You let a few of the pass before you heard Ellie and Hayley coming through the tunnel, knowing they would be great targets. 
You waited until their voices were close to you, yelling loudly as you jumped around the corner. Ellie’s loud scream alerted everyone else as Hayley started swearing at you as she hit your arm multiple times. You laughed each time she hit you, their reactions to the scare were comical. 
“Camp was so much nicer when you weren’t here, y’know,” the winger huffed as she walked past you, throwing her middle finger up as you laughed harder. 
During training, you and Kyra were kept separate the entire time. Everyone knew if you two had even a second together you could come up with some prank that would get everyone. Each time you even attempted to go in her direction during breaks, someone would pull you back by your shirt. 
The only time you had to be near Kyra was when you were doing scrimmages. You two were more focused on trying to trip each other rather than playing the ball. The team couldn’t be mad at the two of you, knowing how long it had been since you two got to spend time together. Plus, they found it extremely funny each time one of you tripped the other. 
Training went on for a bit longer before Tony decided to call it a day. You and Kyra made your way back to the locker room while trying to wrestle, her arm wrapped around your neck as you tried to keep her other arm pinned to her body. You moved your hand to tickle under her arm, the midfielder quickly pulling away from you as she started laughing. 
Everyone changed quickly before making their way back to the bus, ready to take showers before relaxing a bit before dinner. You and Kyra took your seats, this time everyone made sure to leave the two seats in front of you empty so no one would have to suffer whatever you two came up with. 
The bus was quiet on the way back to the hotel but that didn’t stop you and Kyra from hatching a plan to prank Alanna. It was risky to prank your own roommate but you knew her reaction would be worth it. Everyone took their time exiting the bus and making their way through the lobby, too exhausted to do much. 
Though the same could not be said for you and your best friend, the two of you were bouncing with excitement. You two waited to take the elevator, letting Alanna have enough time to get to the room and start her shower. You giggled as you rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, already picturing how the blonde defender would react to your prank.
Kyra quickly tossed her things into the room she was sharing with Mary before you both entered your hotel room. You were as quiet as you could be as you sat your things down softly as Kyra grabbed the hotel ice bucket. You two rushed down the hallway to where the ice machine was, giggling to yourselves as you filled it up and rushed back to your room.
Kyra propped the door open so you could make your exit quickly as you quietly opened the bathroom door. Steam had fogged up the large mirror and Alanna’s phone was lying on the counter blasting music as she took a shower. Kyra stood at the bathroom door, her phone ready to record. 
You held your laugh in as you stood on your toes to dump the buck of ice into Alanna’s hot shower. The blonde shrieked as the cold ice hit her body and you quickly raced out of the bathroom and into the hall, Kyra laughing as her phone caught Alanna’s loud swearing. You two fell to the floor as you could still hear Alanna’s voice, not-so-kind words escaping her mouth.
You two rushed to Kyra’s room just as Alanna opened the hotel door, clad only in a towel as she dripped water onto the carpeted floor. She quickly looked up and down the hallway expecting to see you and Kyra peeking around the corner. She cursed when she didnt see you, quickly closing the door before someone saw her. 
You and Kyra laughed as the midfielder watched through the peephole. You were glad to be back at camp with the national team but mainly you were happy to spend time with Kyra. The team may suffer when the two of you are together, but they'd be lying if they said the two of you didnt make camp a bit more exciting.
312 notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months ago
Note
i Always want to hear about ur life u never have to ask to post an update on ur own blog
warning for talk of weight please don’t read if you don’t want to!!
So, just a further preface that i think all bodies are beautiful, but also know that fatphobia is soul destroying, and I don’t want anyone reading this to think that I beleive I’m more beautiful now ive lost weight, only that I feel more beautiful and that’s cos of so many things! Please, if I mention one of my feelings, know it isn’t because I think fat people aren’t beautiful it’s just because I have so much like self hatred in my head and it’s quieter now I have recently gone down another dress size, so that’s like four since I started dieting, which is a nice non-scale victory, but also I can see a difference physically in my body and it’s so exciting 😭
it makes me so happy to start wearing new clothes while feeling less insecure, if that makes sense. Like, I’ve recently discovered that I can wear clothes with necklines that aren’t simple t-shirt style to the throat, and it is amazing. I feel so pretty all the time to get to actually express my own taste in fashion without having a voice in the back of my head telling me I look ridiculous, which isn’t to say I’m now perfect but it’s just so different to put on top with little sleeves or to wear a slim fitting shirt. I’m still definitely considered fat I think, or chubby, at least to some people, and I don’t mind that at all, like I know I still have rolls and love handles, but the last 20lbs ive lost had made the most noticeable difference in my appearance. I feel like ive been dieting anf working out for years (I haven’t though only 9 months) and its a tiring process, not fun to be in your head, but also feels at least a bit worth it to get to have a confidence boost? Like!!! And the best part really isn’t so much the aesthetic as the health improvements for me, like taking an hour long walk around the fields and getting home feeling invigorated rather than exhausted, and my hormonal issues improving naturally cos of it is great! I also had a very honest conversation with one of my friends about how much I miss her and talking to her more, and like trying to explain to her why I haven’t been asking to see her as much, and like just getting to know we’re on the same page about so much stuff is such a relief, I struggle to be honest with her and my other friends and I still wasn’t as truthful as I could’ve been about everything, but I guess I used to always think that she was cooler and sweeter and nicer than me, and she is really, but idk I felt like I wasn’t such a terrible evil thing either. also had a different honest conversation. With a different friend and I’m trying to be like less ? not annoying but less frustrating as a person, like to be braver about things, and I think it’s working! work is actually bad!! like idk I keep getting in trouble for things that I can’t actually help. Yesterday I got told off for talking but it was literally my coworker telling me to go back to the pod cos my manager had a dif task for me and my managers manager saw us talking and told me she was gonna start calling me elvis ?? But honestly I can’t own up to feeling miserable about it, I think she just runs out of stuff to do sometimes, or maybe I do deserve a telling off for my two second chat 😭 not even in a sarcastic way cos like she’s my boss right if you see me stealing work time you gotta say something. And then my section leaders anre anlso a little unhappy with me sometimes cos I’m not that good any my job, but I did ask for more hours against my better judgement BECAUSE! I’m finishing university in 1 month and two days, which is scary, but I’m glad it’ll be over, cos I can’t say I like it. Doing assignments gives me a headache!! And then five days after I finish uni I’m going to Manchester to see DJO!! so it’s a great celebration.I have been walking a lot more, and I think it’s really helping. Like even though at work I’m on my feet from clock in to clock out walking around, I think walking outside is really good for me (and everyone of course). It’s like even though it’s such a long walk to get from my house to town, getting over it has widened the world up a little bit, and has stopped my mam from being annoyed with me if I ask her to get me something while she’s shopping.
I honestly think that my hair cut has like transformed me maybe? Like along with the weight loss. Seeing it, I can’t understand why I ever had long hair. It just suits me so much. I’m not great at styling it all the time yet so sometimes it looks like puffy from blow drying but it’s great and the sunshine lately makes it a much lighter colour, like I’m still clearly a redhead but it’s just nicer lately. I think I really did used to hide behind my hair and now it’s all gone but I don’t feel exposed, it’s just like a cute accessory or something haha im definitely bummed about how little I’m writing but things have been so crazy lately, I think trying to keep a schedule with it would exhaust me to the bone, but I did write a little fic of Spencer and bombshell at the beach and I love those two so much, and I’ve been adding little bits to other long fics, so it’s not like nothing is happening.also haven’t been reading very much, but maybe now ive kicked ***** *** to the curb i can remember my me-time, i was really enjoying reading again, my kindle was in shock from actually being used! I’m trying to make this summer the best of my life so far cos im so rubbish ive never done anything exciting and im REALLY trying to remember to get my passport! I might tomorrow walk over to the shops and get my photos taken so i can finally submit a new application. But for the mean time ive got three concerts to look forward to and a little holiday to west wales in July!! Found out my estranged father is going to Puerto Ricoand got super jealous, like, he’s the worst and he gets to go to Puerto Rico?? Beautiful Puerto Rico???? I think there was something else I wanted to mention but I can’t remember. Today, both my older sisters came over and so it was just my mam and all my sisters and my mam made us an amazing roast dinner, it was genuinely amazing, and she spent so long cooking, it was really nice and luckily everyone had a good time. My nan gave me a £5 note for Easter to buy an egg cos she didn’t manage to get me one and it reminded me of when I was little and every time you’d go to her house she’d try to give you money😭 so cute 😭 also this isn’t an update but I put the £5 in my savings tin cos I’ve had one since before I started dieting and I have no clue how much is in there but I’d love to know. Does anyone else have one of those metal tins you have to tin open to get into? I really want to know how much is in there because I’ve always just tried to put my change in there, but if you open it — you know how much money is in there and it stops being savings, it’s just money added to what you have, or at least it would be for me. And i want to use it to buy some new clothes when I get to my next goal weight, which is about 20lbs away, so I likely won’t know what’s in the tin for a while. Anyways if you read this far I love you and I’m glad you care enough to bother! Life is so hard sometimes and I’m sure some of you have witnessed me in really rubbish moods, but even though things aren’t really perfect right now I feel alright for a change, like, I just feel normal, not perfectly well rested or like 100% content but it’s sooo nice to not want to hurt myself and to just watch TV without constantly checking my phone!! I worked a lot last week cos I kept picking up shifts but this week I don’t have to go until Friday, so luveline gets to be in the house for like 100hours. I have to do some of my uni assignments cos these last two are the most important ones both worth 40% respectively, but besides that nothing is expected of me, which i am insanely grateful for !! As I am for you if you’re reading, thank you for wanting to know my inane life update
45 notes · View notes
mistydeyes · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
summary: You and Kyle are no longer two small kids running around in the flower garden, you've graduated and he's a Sergeant. Despite being each other's childhood love, you haven't spoken in years. What happens when life forces you back together again?
pairing: Gaz x childhood love! fem!Reader
warnings: swearing, alcoholism, mentions of grief/depression
a/n: this is it, we are at the end! thank you to all who have shown this series love and I hope you enjoy :)
🏷️ @the-faceless-bride @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @justmare @crunchlite @sofasoap
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
After Kyle's offer to spend the holiday, you stopped responding completely. Something about him saddened you. Whenever you picked up your phone to text, you were overcome by an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. When Kyle went back to university, you politely called his mother. "I know this sounds harsh but please tell Kyle not to visit me, it's too hard to see him right now," you spoke shakily. She tried to protest but you pleaded with her to follow your request. "Okay, Y/N, but please you have to see him sometime," and with that, she hung up the phone.
For the next five years, you would never see Kyle again. In the fall of 2015, you received word that he was graduating. Apparently, he had done so at the top of his class. His parents offered you the opportunity to come but you refused. Instead, you sent a bouquet of mountain laurel (ambition), purple cornflower (strength and health), coronilla (success crowns your wishes), and eucalyptus (protection). Weeks later, he texted saying he missed you and with a thank you for the bouquet. As you saw his smiling face with your bouquet in hand, you couldn't help but feel a piercing sense of sadness.
At the end of the school year, you left sixth form and were granted admission to the prestigious University of Oxford. No one thought you could do it but you were revived by the notification of your acceptance that November. You quietly went through the declaration of a major, deciding on Classics and English. Delilah's parents made sure you had the proper financials to attend and offered to manage the shop and home while you were 2 hours away in Oxford. By now, Lila was 20 and able to fully run the shop on her own. You fought with yourself over this decision before Delilah's parents sat you down and told you that you were going. You trusted them and they pushed you to leave, far away from your small town with shattered memories.
The next three years were uneventful, uni was divided into three terms and you would always return to your empty home during holiday. You took solace when you were at home and went about helping Lila with the store. Lila helped you when you needed her most. She kept you updated as you read your book assignments in your flat and collected the mail for you in your absence. As she promised, whenever you arrived home, there would be a pile of mail waiting for you. You would flip through the junk mail until you always found a postcard or letter addressed to you. Sometimes it was from the Garricks, wishing you well and hoping you would visit Manchester sometime. The other half of the time were letters from Kyle. When you were in sixth form, the letters were angry. He was hurt that you pushed him away and begged for you to talk to him. He asked why you stopped calling and told his mother to never visit. Once you transitioned to Uni, there were letters reminiscing over old memories and some updates on how he was doing. One time, you received a letter saying, "I did it, Y/N. I set a record," and you knew this was about his dream of joining the prestigious SAS. This letter sat on top of another card. Upon your graduation, he sent you a congratulations card with it. Inside it read,
"An old buddy of mine had a sibling graduate from Oxford and I saw your name in the program. Congratulations, flower girl! Just know that my family and your mum are so proud of you. Write me back when you get this!" 
As you read the card, a part of you wanted to reply. You even went too far as to rummage some old stationery from your mum's room. However, when you went to write something on the page, you couldn't bring yourself to. And so in a vicious cycle, you always told yourself you would write or text back but the letters kept piling up in a drawer. Eventually, 4 years passed and you were home again, a degree and the forgotten pile of letters waiting for you.
In all reality, your Classics and English degree just offered you a distraction. You know we're working full-time to expand your mother's business. Both you and Lila had expanded to primarily online orders and offered shipping overseas. Your mother would be proud to see what a businesswoman you were.
That May you were helping Lila prepare a large order for a baby shower. You threw around baby's breath and wisterias for everlasting love and a welcoming invitation. She fashioned a crown out of the stems and presented it to you. "For my queen of the flowers," she said and you let out a hearty laugh. Lila had become like your older sister these last few years as was the only one who made you laugh like this. "Why thank you, madame," you said and bowed in return. As you began to clean up, you noticed your phone had lit up with a new voicemail. You leaned over and saw it was from Kyle. You could feel your face grow pale at the icon.
"Um Lila, I'll be right back," you said before pushing the backdoor open. You felt the warm afternoon sun on your face as you stared at your phone. You wrestled with the idea of answering it. Based on his last few correspondences, he was pleading for an answer but respected your wishes to not see him until you were ready. You sighed as you clicked the voicemail box.
"You have 1 NEW MESSAGE. Hey, Y/N it's been a while," you could hear him start to say. He sounded older, no longer having the squeaky voice like before. You couldn't imagine what he looked like now. "I know you said to give you time but I just wanted to call, it's been like what? Five years now. Anyways, I don't know what you've been up to or if this is even still your number but I'm back indefinitely. I'll be working in London so just call if you want to meet up. I could even come out to the country for some lemonade. I miss you and," you listened attentively to the last three words. "I love you."
You were a coward. Despite his message, you never responded. Just like the letters, seeing Kyle was too difficult. It was an insurmountable feat. You thought too much time had passed since you last spoke and he was a completely different person now. You drank yourself to sleep as you tried to force all memory of him out of your mind. Kyle deserved the best, better than you and your sad life could ever offer him. He left you another voicemail that you never listened to.
In October, you invited Lila over for some wine and butternut squash soup. You both formed a routine of weekly dinners and drinks. Eventually, you both settled up on the couch to flip the channels. News broke of the attack at Piccadilly later that evening. You both sat discussing plans for the upcoming autumn collection when you were interrupted by an emergency broadcast.
"What the hell?" you said as your eyes began to read the words on the screen. it notified the public of a situation at the Piccadilly Circus in London and your heart sank.
"Oh my god, all those people," Lila said and clasped her hands tightly together. Your ears started to ring as you remembered, Kyle, Kyle is in SAS, Kyle is in the SAS unit in London, KYLE IS IN LONDON. You fumbled for your phone as Lila spoke but you couldn't hear her. I have to make some calls.
You ran into the kitchen, leaving voicemail upon voicemail for him but to no avail. You silently cursed to yourself for never to returning his calls or letters. What if he was there? What if he got caught in the ensuing attack? Your mind flooded with worry as you dialed his mother. When she picked up you shouted, "Is he okay?" "We don't know dear but we'll keep you updated," she said and in the background, you could hear her husband attempting to find their son through emergency services. "I know we haven't spoken in a while," you swallowed, "but if you hear from him, tell him that I love him."
That night you couldn't sleep. You checked your phone constantly in hopes of receiving any good news. Around midnight, your phone buzzed with a text. It was from Kyle's dad, "His captain says he is safe but he's been reassigned, says we won't be hearing from him anytime soon." You sighed in relief but the text was cryptic. As you lay in bed, you wondered where the hell Kyle was going.
Weeks passed as London recovered, you checked the news constantly for updates and talked to Kyle's parents daily. Apparently, it wasn't a surprise to not hear from him for months on end. You felt guilty as you wished you stayed in touch for their sake. In all these years, you forgot that he was their son too and they had both lost their parents.
While they returned to civilian life, you were wracked with guilt as you plucked flowers from the greenhouse. This was your newest addition to the home and it housed flowers that were difficult to harvest in the fall and winter months. As you gently cut delicate periwinkles and daffodils and added them to the basket, you sighed at the blossoming petals. You picked a periwinkle and crushed it in your hand. With your hand sticky with syrup and pollen, you let out a few tears. As they mixed with the sickly blue color of the crushed petals, you silently begged the universe to bring Kyle home. You would trade all of this- all your flowers and the shop, just to have him home safe in his parent's arms.
It was early December and you were managing the shop alone. Lila had gone on holiday with her family and you worked tirelessly to prepare for the upcoming festivities. It was warm in your store as you turned the sign signaling you were closed for the day. You went to the back to prepare some orders for the next day and hummed a carol as you worked. Just as you bunched another wreath together, you could hear the door's bell chime. "Sorry I don't know if you saw the sign, but we're closed," you said, emerging from the back room. When you saw who it was, you almost dropped the pine leaves in your hand.
"Long time no see," he said and you saw him, it was Kyle. It was him, aged five years, looking tall and broader than you remembered him. Stubble adorned his face as his lips curved into a smile. You eyed his bruised knuckles and scarred forearms, taking in every piece of him.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, cautiously. "Do you want the long or the short version?" he replied and took a step towards you. Soon, he was standing in front of you, a hand gently placed on your cheek. He looked at you and you nodded silently agreeing to his actions. You softened to his touch as he placed his other hand on your waist.
"Either," you breathed in the small space you found yourself in. "Well, the short version is that I needed to do two things. The first is to pick up a wreath for my mother, and the second is because I've wasted too much time not doing this." Before you could reply, he leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours. Your eyes widened upon the sensation, tasting hints of hot chocolate on his tongue. He moved his hands to your back and pulled you into him. You quickly found yourself holding his biceps, feeling how strong he had gotten during all this time.
When you parted, you still maintained the embrace. You looked into his eyes, he was searching yours for a response. “I need a second,” you said as you rushed back into the prep room. Tears rolled down your face as your mind was clouded with a mix of emotions. Unlike when you left Kyle with a dying Nana, he followed you. “Y/N, talk to me,” he begged as you collapsed against a refrigerator holding cut flowers. “Why did you come here, Kyle?” you asked through tears, he joined you and held your hand as he explained. “I told you already,” he said softly but you wouldn’t accept that answer. “Why did you really come here?” you pleaded.
“I came here because I’ve loved you ever since I was a kid. I knew I loved you when you shoved your bouquet in my hands and explained to me every single one. I loved you when you caught me with your sticky hands and stuck marigolds in my hair. I tried to tell you when it was your birthday and I made that cake for you. I even dated someone who reminded me of you because I thought you only saw me as a friend. I spent the last 5 years trying to move on but whenever I fell asleep I would always dream of you smiling at me from a garden we planted together,” he said and your tears continued to fall as he described all the moments he was hopelessly falling for you. You couldn’t fathom how blind you both had been for all those years. Silence filled the air as Kyle held your hands tightly and you avoided his gaze. Finally, you found the strength to speak.
"I'm sorry," you began to say. "You're sorry?" he said confused, "Did I do something wrong?" You shook your head as you tried to escape his grip. "No, I'm sorry we grew apart. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I didn't go to your graduation and spend the holidays with you. I'm sorry for letting go," you whispered. You were ashamed to look at him and tried to leave his piercing gaze. He let go of you slightly, only to hold your chin to look up at him. "I'm sorry for leaving," he whispered back, "I learned a lot while I was gone. I lost good friends, I'm not letting another one get away," he finished before giving you a small kiss. You were speechless, a whirlwind of happy and melancholy emotions. Before Kyle could respond with concern you spoke for him. "Dogwood blossom, love undiminished by adversity."
"I'll do you one better," he said before pulling out a phlox blossom from his pocket. "Phlox, our souls are united." After two decades, you finally were able to kiss him, your Kyle, the neighborhood boy with marigolds in his hair.
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
Tumblr media
203 notes · View notes
ferindencadash · 10 months ago
Note
Leather club au 👀👀👀👀
Bless you for asking about this one. 😌 It's literally all that occupies my brain most days. I don't think you can necessarily *plan* your magnum opus, but fuck am I trying. I am putting EVERYTHING into this fic.
I've ordered in a dozen library books for reference, I've researched the history of CCTV in Manchester, I've been chatting with retired security guards on reddit, I calculated the dismemberment benefits for SAS officers in 1987... (autism, who?)
Yeah. 😅
Overview: Soap loses a leg in a 1987 IRA bombing (a real life incident which the SAS was actually involved in). He's now working as an independent contractor reviewing security tapes. It's boring as shit, but disability benefits don't go that far, and it helps pay the bills.
He's got a casual fwb situation with Gaz, who is a bartender at a local leather/gay bar that is owned by Gaz's boyfriend/Daddy (sexual, not literal) Price.
Gaz mentions that Price is looking to commission someone to do some designs for merch for the bar, and encourages Soap to stop by and talk to him about it.
Soap is closeted outside of his close friends (his family is very Catholic), and he usually avoids places he might be seen and outed, but he needs money (and he's kind of curious) so he goes.
He shows up on their weekly bdsm night and sees a large masked man doing a scene demonstration and, well... 😏 He is intrigued.
I've got the whole thing loosely outlined and time-lined. At least a dozen chapters, I think. Every chapter is titled after a song. Yes, I have a playlist. My older friend who frequented leather bars in the 80s/90s has been helping me curate it. 😅
I have one more assignment fic I need to finish, and then I am diving into writing this properly (and I will be looking for betas if anyone's interested 👀).
24 notes · View notes
lucy90712 · 2 years ago
Text
Pablo Gavi- Teach me
A/n: I know Gavi didn’t play in the second leg against Man Utd but let’s just pretend he did
wc: 2.3k
Today has just been one of those days everything has just not gone my way. This morning the shower in my room at university didn't work and since I've dropped seemingly everything I've picked up and I just can't figure out how to start my next assignment. In hopes to clear my mind I decided to go for a walk as usually that helps me sort my head out and get myself back in a good mind set. My walk was really nice for a while until I got into the town which was heaving with people. Usually it's busy but today it was just manic which was making me more stressed than I was before I left.
Once I got a bit further I realised that I came out not too long before Manchester United play Barcelona in the europa league. Had I known the game was on I would never have come this way as usually I avoid going anywhere near the stadium on game days as it gets so busy but now I'm committed to going this way I will just have to deal with it. The last time I accidentally came near the stadium on a game day when I first moved here I found a back road that was a lot more quiet so I made my way through the crowds until I found the street. The street goes around the back of the stadium which is why it's so quiet but I like it as it gave me my chance to relax like I wanted.
While walking I took my phone out of my coat pocket to change the song playing in my ears as it wasn't one I was feeling at the moment. Just as I looked down at my phone it was like I walked into a wall and all of a sudden I nearly fell backwards and my phone went crashing to the floor. It was clear to me that to top my bad day off I'd just walked into someone. I almost didn't want to look up and see the person who was probably going to yell at me but I did anyway. When I did look up I nearly fell over again as my eyes were met with probably the most attractive guy I've ever met so I cursed myself even more. The guy bent down and picked up my phone handing it back to me so I could see that it was completely smashed but luckily it still worked.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't paying attention to where I was going are you ok" I apologised
"I-it's ok" the guy replied with a very thick Spanish accent
"Are you ok?" He asked
"I'm fine but my phone not so much" I joked trying to make light of the situation
The guy laughed before signalling for someone else nearby to come over who he talked to in what I assume was Spanish while I just watched. I wasn't really sure if I was supposed to keep standing there but I did anyway as it's not like I understood what they were saying. To me it sounded like they were arguing but eventually they stopped talking and the other guy turned to face me.
"Hey I'm Ferran and this is Pablo he wants to invite you to watch the game later but he doesn't know how to say it" Ferran said
"It's nice to meet you both I'm y/n, I'd love to come to the game but only if it's no trouble I've already caused enough problems here today" I said
"It's not problem at all Pablo here would love to have you watch" Ferran said
"Then I'd love to" I replied
After agreeing to go to the game Pablo ran off and went to talk to someone else and when he came back he handed me a ticket to the game which when I glanced at seemed to be a vip ticket. He then managed to ask me to meet him after the game and Ferran told me just to show my ticket and give the security my name and they would let me in. With that they both ran off towards the stadium and I was left completely shocked and confused as to what just happened. It felt like a fever dream but it was definitely real life and now I had about an hour and a half before I was supposed to be going to a football game. Luckily that is enough time to go home and get changed and hopefully do some research on this game as I know very little about football.
Gavi's POV
Before any game I go through the same routine but tonight that routine has gone out the window. On the way into the stadium someone walked into me which usually would be a bit annoying but I would just move on but when I looked at who walked into me I saw the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. In that moment I decided that I couldn't just let her leave for me never to see her again so I invited her to the game or well Ferran did as I didn't know how to say it in English. The fact that I couldn't talk to her is exactly why my routine has changed as I need to learn as much English as possible before I see her after the game.
Most of the guys only speak Spanish but some have played over here and know some English so I begged them to teach me some English. Of course everyone laughed at me that all it took was a girl to finally make me learn English but eventually they agreed to help me after I told them she would be coming to the game later. To start with they were teaching me things that I won't be using later and I know not to use them as they were giggling as they taught me the words which means they are things that will either make me look like a weirdo or make her hate me. Once they had their fun they started to take things seriously and taught me basic sentences to use. it was hard to learn a language so quickly but I wrote some of them down on my phone just in case I forget. Even during warm up I kept practicing to make sure I don't make a fool of myself.
Instead of focusing on the game like I should be during warm up I also looked around the stadium to see if y/n had actually turned up. I mean I wouldn't blame her if she didn't show up as she clearly didn't know who I was so to her it was just some random guy inviting her to a game. As warm up went on I was starting to think she wouldn't show up when I couldn't see her but right before we went back down the tunnel I saw her walk in and start looking around. Knowing she actually came gave me even more motivation to win this game and impress her.
Your POV
I pretty much ran home to put on a nicer outfit before heading straight back out to go to the stadium. I have never been to a football match before mainly because I don't have much of an interest in the sport but when you get invited to a game by a very attractive guy you just have to go so that's exactly what I did. On my walk back to the stadium I tried looking up a bit about the game and I found out that it's the second leg of this game and that currently the score is  2-2 draw which means either team has a chance of making it. Living in Manchester I know a bit about the united team but I know next to nothing about Barcelona so I focused my search on them.
When looking at the Barcelona players I almost dropped my phone out of pure shock. Right in front of me listed as one of the players was Pablo and Ferran. When I googled him I only got more flustered as he is my age and has already played in the World Cup and won trophies for how talented he is. All of a sudden I felt really stupid that I'd just so casually spoken to such a famous footballer without having any clue who he was. As much as it's embarrassing I clearly didn't make an awful impression as he still invited me to watch the game so I need to put it behind me and just try not to make more of a fool of myself.
It took me forever to find the entrance I was supposed to go in once I made it to the stadium but eventually I found my way into the stadium but then I had to find my seat which involved a lot of walking back and forth but once I reached the right section it was easy to find my seat. As I sat down I noticed the players heading back in from the pitch from what I assume was their warm up. I didn't see Pablo but I knew he would have been out there as he was named in the starting line up. With the few minutes I had before the match started I spent my time trying to use google translate to learn a bit of Spanish as Pablo only speaks Spanish so I want to be able to talk to him after the game. Of course I know that everything might not be incredibly accurate but anything is better than nothing and I'm sure he will understand most of what I say.
Soon enough the game started and Barcelona got off to a great start by scoring a penalty putting them ahead overall. The first half ended with the same score but once the second half kicked off it only took a few minutes for Manchester United to score making things level again. From then the match was hard to watch as Barcelona were really struggling and eventually the inevitable happened Man Utd scored their second goal putting them ahead with about 15 minutes left. I really hoped that Barcelona could bring it back but they just couldn't get close enough and the game ended with Man Utd making it through to the next round and Barcelona being left disappointed. As much as I'd only been invested in this matched for a few hours I still felt awful for the whole team but especially Pablo as I could see the disappointment on his face from my seat.
I stayed sat in the stands for a few minutes deciding whether Pablo would even want to still see me after the game but in the end I just decided to go for it as if I don't I'm never going to see him again and if things go wrong then the same applies. Heading through the stadium and to the areas that most people will never see felt so wrong but I kept going until some security stopped me so I did what Ferran told me to do and they let me right through and even told me where to go. It felt so weird to be walking down the tunnel with loads of players standing around I just felt so out of place as I'm just a normal university student that has nothing to do with football whatsoever. I stood outside of the away teams locker room looking at my home until someone spoke to me which nearly made me jump out of my skin.
"Hey" Pablo said
"Hi I'm sorry you lost you played really well though" I said
"Thank you" he replied
He seemed to have learnt some English as he was able to ask me some questions as we got to know each other a bit while just stood in the hallway. I expected him to be quite full of himself as he's an attractive famous footballer but he was so down to earth and incredibly sweet that I kind of forgot who I was talking to. I was surprised after earlier that he was able to speak quite well on occasion we had a bit of trouble but google translate helped with that. At some point he had to head back to the hotel but before leaving he asked for my number and asked me if I would join him for breakfast in the morning before he leaves. Of course I agreed but once I was alone again I wondered how I managed to get myself into this situation.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I can't believe you made everyone teach you English just so you could speak to me" I laughed
"Well what else was I supposed to do you were way too beautiful for me to just let you go I had to do something" Pablo defended himself
"It was worth it though wasn't it?" He asked
"Oh definitely I'll forever be grateful to your teammates for helping you talk to me because now I have the best husband in the world" I said
"And I have an even better wife" he said trying to make me blush and succeeding
So much has changed since the day we first met and honestly I'm not sure I know how it all happened but I'm incredibly grateful that it did. Since meeting Pablo my life has only gotten better everyday and now that we are married I couldn't be happier. The road to get here wasn't easy but we have gone through it all together and I hope we will continue to do so for the rest of our lives.
103 notes · View notes
theageofcaravel · 2 years ago
Text
Rose-Coloured boy. - Jamie Tartt x F!reader
Tumblr media
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
MASTERLIST
Chapter II: Lovely to Sit Between Comfort and Chaos
Plot: Jamie Tartt and Y/N have been best friends since primary school. The pair had fallen out once graduation hit, both of them going their separate ways; Jamie finally kicking off (pun intended) his football career, and Y/N finally walking through the doors of her cinematographer career. One day, they cross paths in the corridors of Nelson Road, Y/N getting the assignment to make a mini docuseries of one of the football clubs in England, hers being AFC Richmond.
Set during season 2 and onward.
warnings: swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, parental issues, very light angst, some fluff(?)
word count: 4,2k
an: another chapter out WOOHOOO!!!! !! thank you guys for all the love on the first chapter, it seriously means SO MUCH!!! The italicised parts are basically a background synopsis! I was also thinking of making a cast list so you know what I had in mind with the characters that I added in 'n stuff!! I have a master post that has a Pinterest board with visuals and pictures of like 4 additional characters (Bee, Libby and two new characters that are introduced within this chapter <3) but I think it would be rather fun to make mood board for each of the added cast members or something!! Let me know <3!! I also wrote this half-awake and have not proof-read it. ANYWAY, ENJOY ILY!!!!! <3
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
“Alright, just sit like that,” you told Sam and fixed the collar on his shirt, in which he responded with a smile and a thumbs up. “Okay, so, first question,” you looked at him and nodded promptly, “what exposed you to the world of football?” 
The rest of the day went like that, all of the boys getting a plethora of different questions and them all answering dutifully and happily. Jamie, of course, opted for last. “It's saving the best for last.” he told you with a hand patting his chest and a sly smirk plastered on his lips “God, you’re intolerable.” you told him and he laughed. 
That cocky bastard. That cocky bastard whom you’ve known since you were little, the one who just magically popped into your life when you needed it, the one who would let you sneak through his window late at night because your mum and dad had another argument, the one who was with you every step of the way after your parents inevitably divorced, the one who would help you with Libby whilst your mum was away at work, the one who left you as an afterthought once you guys graduated, the one who would read your texts and then turned the read receipts off, the one who had probably a million deleted voicemails from you while you were drunk or when … Yeah, that cocky bastard. Yet, seeing him again just made it seem like the last parts never happened. It was easy to forgive and forget, especially once you really gave up on your friendship, but you knew that there needed to be some reprimanding every now and again to get it through his head that if he thinks you can truly be friends again, he needs to get his act back in check. 
You heard about what happened when he left Richmond to go to Manchester United a year ago, and while it made you excited that he was finally back, he never reached out to you or mentioned to you that he was back. You heard from his mum, Georgie, who was practically like a second mother to you. It aggravated you just a tiny bit that Jamie wasn’t the one who told you anything, but at least his mum cared enough. You weren’t in London until recently, you transferred your credits in the middle of your second year and that's where you met Beatrice, or Bee. Your life changed after that, you met some of the coolest people you could ever meet. 
“‘Ello? Earth to Y/N?” Jamie asked, his brow raised. Apparently whilst you were packing up the room, you were hyper focused on a box and never moved for at least 3 minutes. “Y’lost in thought there, dollface?” he quipped, the nickname made you whip your head toward the other who had a grin on his face. 
“Oh, god. I haven’t heard you call me that since college.” shaking your head, you picked up the box and set it away to the side. “But I guess y’could say that or somethin’.”
“What’s it you were thinkin’ ‘bout, hm?” he inched toward you and you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Mostly jus’ silly things.”
“How do you mean?” 
“Forgiving and forgetting is a strange happening, Mister Tartt.” you paused with a shrug of your shoulders, “especially when we’re gettin’ close again ‘cause of a project I was assigned for uni. Or attempting to.”
“Attempting to?”
“Mhm, it's weird havin’ you back in my life, Jamie.” you turned your full body to him, “but thats no matter, right? Said I was an adult and can get past all that ignorin’ me business because now you can’t do that.” with a chuckle, Jamie shrugged. 
“How could you be so sure?” 
“‘Cause you promised and you’re not one to break a promise, now are you?” you squinted at him and pointed to your pinky basically reminding him of a few weeks ago. 
He nodded, “Suppose y’re right there, Y/N.” 
“‘Course I am, I always am.”
“Alright, don’t get all cocky on me now.” 
“You’re one to talk.” you said, sticking your tongue out. Jamie shook his head and began to walk out the door before turning toward you again. 
“Y’doin’ anythin’ for lunch?” he asked and you nodded in response. “Yeah, got plans with the friends. They came here on our day off to see what the hype was about ‘n all.”
“Oh, that’s fun. Sounds like a good time.” 
You nod, “yeah, would’ya wanna join? Unless if theres something you’re doing thats super important after lunch?” you tilted your head and he shook his head.
“Nah. s’a half day for us.” He replied, you replied with another nod of your head.
“So..” you began, looking at him expectedly, “you taggin’ along or not? M’sure Bee ‘n Mick would love some insight from someone that basically lives here. Me included.” flashing him a hopeful grin, he sighed. 
“Don’t see why not.”
“Wicked! Lets go.”
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
Hey! Jamie is gonna tag along. 
Hope thats okay?
Told him that it would be good to get insight from someone who lives here.
Get the whole tourist experience. 
Pressing send on the last text, you turned to Jamie and smiled. 
“You’re gonna love Bee, I promise.” 
“Why’re you reassurin’ me?” he asked, brows knitted together. 
“Dunno, thought you’d need it.” you shrugged and looked at your phone when you heard Bee’s special ringtone; the sound of, well, a bee.
“S’that her ringtone?” Jamie asked and chuckled. You nodded and looked at the texts she sent back. 
Oh, GOOD!
That’s brilliant actually, cos I can finally kick his ass
Joking, of course
But yeah that sounds perfect
Didn’t really know what you’d show us anyway, since you haven’t really been here… you know
JOKES again!!
You rolled your eyes and stopped in your tracks to respond to your bestest friend in the whole world. 
Riiiight. 
I could, you know, leave you lot stranded if I really wanted 
But fortunately for you, m a good friend. 
Hence why I asked Jamie to join.
Where are we meeting again?
You set your phone back into your pocket when Bee texted back with the designated location you had all agreed on earlier this morning in the groupchat. 
“Alrighty, so, Bee said that we should meet at The Crown and Anchor.” you said, basically making your statement come out as a question. 
“Hm, yeah, that’s a good place to meet up,” he nodded and walked into the locker room and you stayed back waiting for him to change out of his kit. 
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
“Right, let's go then, shall we?” Jamie asked, walking out of the room, his bum bag strapped over his torso. You nodded and slung your jacket over your shoulders. You both walked toward the doors, Jamie jogging ahead of you to open the door. 
“Ever the gentleman.” you said and scrunched your nose at him, he bowed his head in your direction. You waited for him before he stood beside you, “how far is the walk from here?”
“Uhhh, dunno. We won’t need to walk, though. I got me car keys.” Jamie opened his bag and pulled the latter out. “See?” 
You blinked, “right, forgot you drive here.” 
Following behind him, you watched as he walked up to a cherry red Plymouth Fury. Your jaw practically fell to the floor, “holy shit, this is yours?!” you practically squeaked. You looked up at Jamie who had a shit-eating grin on his face. 
“This thing has a name.” he said and unlocked the gorgeous car. You blinked and opened the door on the passenger side. 
When you were younger, probably year 11, give or take, you and Jamie were having your weekly late night at your house. You both opted to watch a horror movie, which was usually the thing you guys would choose. Even if it was one you both have already watched together. He thought it was funny when you’d get scared and cover your eyes haphazardly with your hands, still peeking through your fingers. This specific night, you guys chose one about a possessed car. 
“It better be Christine or somethin’, ‘cause if not I’m afraid you’re gonna have to rename it.” you smirked at him and turned to him, reminiscing in the memory of watching the movie about this exact model of car. 
“Psh, how could I not name her Christine?” he tsked and brushed his hand over the car’s dashboard. 
“How did you manage to get the wheel on the right side? Ain’t this brand of car American or somethin’? And how the fuck did you, letalone, manage to even GET one?” You asked, practically bug eyed. 
“Cost a hell of a lot of money, that’s for fuckin’ sure. They had to rewire it ‘n give it new parts ‘n such.” he said matter factly and you nodded, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Listen to how she purrs though.” he never got rid of the shit-eating grin on his face. He placed the keys in the ignition and set the car off. 
You chuckled and smiled wide, “holy fuck, this is incredible.” 
The brunet beside you nodded and pulled out of his parking spot, “she’s perfect, s’kinda hard to get her fixed sometimes though, s’pecially ‘cause Plymouth ain’t really a thing anymore.” 
“Yeah, I bet. Probably costs an arm and a leg, too. But you probably don’t have to worry about the money situation much, seein’ how you’re a professional footballer ‘n all.” watching the other cars pass by, you admired the feeling of being around Jamie again, the smile on your face never leaving your lips. 
“Y’said The Crown ‘n Anchor right?” 
“Mhm.”
“Right.” he nodded and tapped his hand along the steering wheel. 
You both sat in silence, listening to the hum of the 63 year old car and the low sound of music emitting from the stereo, it was comfortable. 
“I’m excited for you to meet Bee ‘n Mickey,” you started and looked over at him, “Bee might reprimand you though..” 
He looked over at you with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on; a mix of amusement and panic. 
“She means well, I promise, but remember how you left me all those years ago? Yeah, might’ve said some stuff with a drink or two in my system.” 
Shaking his head, “nah, s’good. I kinda figured, been preparing meself since we left the car park at the stadium.” 
You chuckled at his remark and folded your arms across your torso. Soon you guys were parked on the side of the street. You quickly got out of the car and scanned for your two friends. 
“Y/N!!” You heard Bee call, you turned your head toward the sound and beamed. 
“Hi, egghead.” You said and walked up to them, Jamie in tow, “this is Jamie.” 
“Holy shit, you’re Jamie Tartt.” Mickey chimed in, basically shadowing behind your best mate, the smile on his face only grew when Jamie nodded. 
“That I am, so you’re a fan?” Jamie asked in his coy tone, which was soon interrupted by Bee squinting at him and he stepped back slightly. She pointed her index finger at him, “you.” 
It was funny how Bee didn’t have to look up at Jamie, they were the same height. Bee was one of your tallest friends. You folded your arms across your torso waiting for whatever the girl was gonna say to your not-so-innocent looking ex-best friend. “Leave Y/N like you did again and no one on the face of this earth will ever hear from you again.” From the corner of your peripheral you could see Jamie practically gulp. Bee laughed, “I’m just fuckin’ with ya, mate. You did hurt her though, don’t do it again.” With a scared laugh Jamie looked at you with a ‘are you gonna do anything about this chick who just threatened my life?!’ look. You shrugged and shook your head. 
“Your fault, not mine.” You chuckled and bumped your hip against his. “But this is just how she is, but you’re not the one to see the worst of her ‘Bee Sting.’ No one really is, but she is really good at giving the occasional, ‘I will thump you upside the head’ look.” 
“Alright..” Jamie whispered and you shook your head. 
“She’s tellin’ the truth.” Bee nodded and began to walk ahead of you, Mickey in tow. 
“So, whos the good lookin’ bloke?” Jamie asked wiggling his eyebrows at you and you replied with an amused cackle and a shake of your head. 
“That’s Mickey, Bee’s boyfriend.” You looked at him expectedly and he just nodded. 
“Ah, makes sense. How long have they been datin’?” 
“Oh, fuck, since the end of college I think, they’ve been together for as long as I’ve known them.” 
“Cool.”
You nodded and walked into the small pub, the warm lighting making you feel all light inside. 
Jamie was instantly greeted by the older lady behind the bar, “‘Ello, Mae!” he replied to her. The older lady asked if it was just him, in which he replied with a shake of his head. “Nah, with some mates.” he gestured to the three of you standing beside him.
“Well, any mate of Jamie’s is a mate of ours.” the grey haired lady told the group and you guys thanked her before finding a place to sit.
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly, Bee, Jamie and Mickey already had an inside joke when you had idiotically fallen for one of Bee’s stupid jokes. Jamie thought it was the funniest thing for the remainder of the time you were all together and for the life of him, would not stop bringing it up.
“Remember when you went to the loo and came back and Bee went –”
Before he could finish his sentence, the other two would giggle or you would playfully hit his shoulder, “Yes, Jamie, how could I forget something that happened to me earlier?”
You and Jamie both bid Bee and Mickey farewell, you all agreeing to hangout again together in the near future. It made your heart swell with how well Jamie fit in with your small group. 
Your trio had quickly became a quartet.
“Will you need a ride home?” Jamie asked you when you hopped into the passenger seat. 
“Nah, Frank will take me home and don’t think I could spend another 30 minutes with you.” You joked and he placed a hand over his heart in faux offence. 
“Wowww, you wound me.” 
You laughed with him when he started the car, the drive seemed only shorter this time. 
“I’ll see y’tomorrow right?” Jamie asked you and you nodded. 
“Mhm, but I won’t be here until the afternoon, gotta get anythin’ from my teachers that ain’t online and turn in anythin’ that I finished last week.”
“Alright, I’ll be here.” 
You waved Jamie goodbye before hopping in the back of Frank’s cab. 
“Evenin’, Y/N!” he greeted you with the widest smile, which you couldn’t help but mirror. 
Your entire ride home was pretty much spent talking about your afternoon and the stories that unfolded during. Frank, of course, listened and added in his own stories of the day but mentioned how he wished that his friends were still lively like your group.
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
The next day couldn’t have come any faster than it did, you had an idea to run by the team, and when you did, they had all excitedly agreed to partake in the events. 
“Alright, boys, how would you feel if I took you on a grand tour of my university? You could meet all of the teachers, maybe even have a little football camp of sorts? I could get the word out quickly and have the students bring along their siblings ‘n stuff?” you had asked and the boys, even the coaches had excitedly all gotten up and cheered at the top of their lungs. 
“Alright, alright!” you intercepted their excitement and shook your head, “while I love your enthusiasm, this won’t take place until next week because of the game that you lot have on Saturday.” much to your surprise, the excited noises never ceased which only caused you to jump up and down. 
“I’ll get the details out to you guys by tomorrow! I’ll talk to the dean and see any other ideas that she may have!” You clapped your hands together and soon left the locker room with the boys. They all chatted amongst each other happily, you listening closely to any of the conversations where your name was brought up.
Another day of filming more of their training, including what the coaches talk about on the sidelines. Unfortunately, the day had ended up turning hectic, more action than one single person could ever film had happened. You ended up having a shitty recording of everything that had occurred. The mics had ended up not working. You had to scramble around to get every perfect shot you could.. 
It was miserable. 
You had ended up talking to Professor Loughty, who, per usual, listened to your insight and agreed. However, you were going to be paired up with a student that was a transfer from New York University. And while having a buddy from a school like NYU, you had no idea what they were going to be like. 
Were they going to be full of themselves? Critical of your work? Not easy to work with?
“Hey.” an American voice spoke and you looked up at the taller boy in front of you. “I’m Caspar.” he smiled and reached his hand out to you. “Looks like I’m your new partner.” 
You smiled back, automatically being drawn to whatever kind energy this guy possessed. 
“Y/N.” you took his hand in yours and examined his features. He had long curly hair, just above his shoulders. He was sporting an older baggy sweater and a pair of corduroy trousers. His sneakers were old and worn down, but it suited him. “You already seem so cool?” you said, in a question, and he beamed. 
“Thank you.” 
You nodded and looked over at your professor, “does Frank know that he’s gonna have an extra person in his cab?” he responded with a nod. “He definitely should.”
With another nod, you slung your bag over your shoulder and basically grabbed Caspar by his arm, “alright, well, seeing that I’m headed back over to Richmond at,” a pause, looking down at your bare wrist, “well, now, I think it would be fit if I introduced you to the team!”
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
Whilst in the car, you had gone over what has happened so far and Caspar nodded attentively and added some insights on what he could do. It was already nice to have another set of hands to help, instead of having to beg one of the boys, mostly Jamie, to stay back and help you pack. 
When Frank had pulled back into Nelson Road you waved the old man goodbye, your mood already 100 times better than the day prior. “Let me give you a mini tour and introduce you to Rebecca.”
Caspar nodded and followed behind you like a taller shadow. You showed him all around, basically doing the tour that Rebecca had given you; including all of the side comments about how disgusting some of the rooms were. When you had made basically a full circle, you knocked on Rebecca’s door and pressed your palm onto the door to open it up. 
“Hi, Y/N!” Rebecca greeted and got up from her rolly chair. She wrapped her arms around you and looked over at the other presence in her room. “Oh, goodness, I’m so rude.” She pulled away and held out a hand for Caspar. “You must be Caspar? Your professor emailed me not too long ago talking about how you were going to join Y/N in the production process, which I think is brilliant.”
Caspar gently shook her hand and smiled at the way Rebecca was so welcoming, “well, I can’t imagine doing a job like this all by yourself, yet Y/N did it on her own for … how long?” he asked and turned to you. 
“Almost three weeks now?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t handle that on my own.” the three of you chuckled. 
“Have you met the boys yet?” Rebecca asked with her brows raised, she looked over at you. You shook your head and pointed to the door. “I was just about to introduce him to ‘em.”
“I see,” she nodded and pursed her lips, “between us three? They’re a lot to handle sometimes.”
“Amen to that, sister.” you said and waved Rebecca goodbye, “I’ll be back around for lunch?” you asked her and she replied with a thumbs up. You looked up at Caspar, “you’re joining, by the way, Cas. You’ll get to meet Keeley, she’s an angel sent from heaven.” 
He smiled at the nickname and nodded his head, “sounds good to me, Y/N/N.” 
You giggled at his reciprocation of nicknames and pulled him down the stairs and down the hallway to the locker room. “When I first came here, Rebecca told me that this room reeks of stinky men, and I have to agree, so just prepare your nose, yeah?” you said to him and he nodded with a salute of his hand. 
“Got it.” 
“Alright, you lot, you guys dressed?” You asked after you lightly tapped your knuckles on the door in an irregular pattern. The boys replied with preoccupied yeses and you waltzed in, “OI.” you said and their attention was soon yours. Much like how Rebecca had introduced you, you introduced Caspar and the boys had all greeted him. Except this time, no one had prior knowledge of who he was. 
“He’s going to help me around here for the remainder of the time that I’m filming for you stinky boys.” You scrunched your nose at the last part and got a few shakes of heads and a thumbs up from Coach Beard. 
“Well, welcome to the family, Cas.” Coach Lasso walked up to you both once the introduction was complete. The smile on Cas’ lips only seemed to grow. 
“He gave me a nickname on my first day, too. Ain’t that right, Theo?” 
“Exactamundo, Y/N/N.” Ted replied and you have him a high five. 
“We’re very glad that you’re here.” Beard added in from the side and Roy only grunted. 
With a crinkled brow at the thick-browed man, you bumped your elbow into Caspar’s side gently. “Don’t take it personally, just how he is.”
“Yeah, but the dusty old fart could learn a thing or two about human decency.” Jamie said walking up to you two while glaring at Roy. He stuck his tongue out at the older and then looked at you two. You both had goofy grins on your lips. 
“This is Jamie.” you pointed to the boy who was wearing his headband, a few loose strands peeking out slightly. “Jamie, Casper.” you then pointed to the curly-haired boy. They both greeted each other and then after that, the rest of the team did their introductions to him. At that moment you decided to step away from the limelight and stand in the corner, beaming with how welcoming this team was. 
“Hey.” Jamie said and sat down beside you. 
“Hiya.” You replied and smiled up at him. 
“Glad you have some help ‘round here, if I’m honest, yesterday was a shit show.”
You glared at him, “well damn, tell me how you really feel.” there was sarcasm laced within your words and Jamie shrugged when he realised that you were being playful and not taking any offence. 
“Yeah, can’t believe you went this long without having some help.”
“Excuse me, I’ve had help.” you pressed your lips together in a thin line and then smirked. “‘Specially from you, Tartt.” 
He blinked and shrugged, “guess you’re right.” 
“I am, because it did happen.”
Jamie shook his head and leaned down to retie his boots. “Right, well, are you gonna be filmin’ on the pitch today?”
You shook your head, “not today, I was thinkin’ about goin’ over all of the things so far and whatever else we need to get with Cas.”
Jamie nodded and then stood up when Coach Lasso told everyone to head outside. 
“See you later then?” he asked and you nodded, getting up yourself. 
“Mhm, later, skater.”
Within seconds the whole team excited the locker room, leaving you and Caspar on your own. 
“So? How does it feel?” you asked him and walked up to his side.
“How does what feel?” he asked, seemingly in a trance.
“Being welcomed into the ‘pack’ or whatever?” you internally cringed at your wording, but it caused a happy laugh to come from the male’s lips. 
“It’s definitely nice. I feel like I’ve known at least a few of the boys for years.”
“Oh yeah, they’ll do that to you.” You responded and patted his back. “Alright, there’s some things that I wanna go over and if you have any additional ideas that you think would fit in with our schedule ‘n stuff just let me know, yeah?” you asked him as you both walked out of the locker room and down the hallway into your makeshift office. 
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Perfect!”
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
TAGLIST:  @jamietarttdodo @tortilla-maria1 @taytaylala12 @salgachode @skewedcherries @spiderywoo (IT WOULDNT LET ME TAG YOU IM SO SORRY!!! I CAN KEEP ON TRYING)
68 notes · View notes
the-offside-rule · 8 months ago
Text
The College/Work au Masterlist ☆
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
What if your favourite athletes weren't famous and instead of taking eau rouge flat out, or scoring a penalty in a champions league final, they designed buildings, or were doctors?
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The Rom-Com Materlist ♡
The WAG au Materlist ◇
Rules for Requesting
1 - Staying Back to work on a project together - Oscar Piastri (McLaren)
2 - Taking notes for the other person - Pedro Acosta (KTM)
3 - study buddies - David Malukas (Arrow McLaren)
4 - Graduation - Richarlison de Andrade (Tottenham)
5 - Helping to move into a dorm - Ollie Bearman (Haas F1)
6 - Coffee run - Dennis Hauger (Andretti)
7 - The cute secretary - Mason Mount (Manchester United)
8 - Workplace Rivalry - Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing)
9 - Accidentally deleting the entire assignment - Pedri Gonzalez (FCBarcelona)
10 - Class Debate - George Russell (Mercedes)
*If you have any more ideas for College/Work au prompts, remember, all original ideas are welcome so please feel free to send them my way!
19 notes · View notes
insomniac4000 · 1 year ago
Text
Hold me closer- W2S.
Prologue
The blonde male sighed as he looked at the girl in front of him. His suitcase sat by his bedroom door, a painful reminder of what was about to happen.
"You can still come with me you know," Harry said to Rebecca who smiled but there was a lot of pain behind her eyes. She shook her head knowing that they were doing the right thing, this was such a head over heart matter but they were doing the right thing, she just kept repeating that over in her head, they were doing the right thing. 
Harry was moving to London, his Youtube career was taking off but one of the things that was holding him back a little was the lack of collaborations and lack of opportunities for doing more videos outside. Simply he had outgrown his small home island of Guernsey and it was time for him to grow up and do other things. Rebecca had her own plans, she had scored herself a spot at Manchester university studying Environmental Sciences. Harry was so incredibly proud of her when she told him she got in. When they met in school Harry assumed she was way too clever for him but when they were assigned seats next to each other in science they quickly sparked up a friendship which blossomed into a relationship two years later when they were freshly eighteen and out of school. They went into their relationship knowing that Rebecca was always going to go away at one point and originally they talked about ways to make it work but now with Harry also following his dreams it seemed more and more barriers were put in the way. 
"You know I have to go and do my thing, and you have to go and do yours. I love you, I really do but, we're just at two different points in our lives now," Rebecca sounded like a broken record, the couple had this conversation but she kept hammering the point home. 
"I'll wait for you," Harry offered, his blue eyes looking low and sad. He was known for his very enthusiastic and animated style of delivery on his videos but in real life he could be quite reserved and shy, especially when it came to the opposite sex. 
"For three years?" Rebecca asked, Harry shook his head in understanding, he knew it was a silly thing to say but he was going to miss this girl so much. She was going to miss him too, he was her first love and people say you would never forget them but Harry had such a profound impact on her life she didn't know how she was ever going to forget about him, she didn't WANT to forget about him but she knew she had to. 
"This is a lot harder then I thought it would be," Harry admitted. Rebecca snaked her arms around her soon to be ex's waist and he held her tightly.
"It's our last night together, let's try and have a good time, do all of our crying tomorrow." 
Harry did indeed leave Guernsey the next day. A young man of nineteen, out on his own in a big city for the first time who has a lot of subscribers and a lot of money spelt out a recipe for disaster and for Harry that was true. He took solace in drugs and started hanging around with some unsavoury Youtubers. Rebecca was called a few times from some genuine Youtuber friends, she did think about visiting of course she was worried about him but she also had deadlines she needed to meet and a part time job in order to pay extortionate rent for a tiny space. It took a week but eventually she relented as she had a free weekend and decided to make a trip to London, Harry being unaware. If he had known he would have made sure everything happened differently. 
"Hi, can I help you?" A small girl with brown hair smiled as she answered the door to Harry's apartment. Rebecca swallowed before scrambling to put a sentence together, one of the things her and Harry had in common was they both could stutter sometimes. 
"Oh erm, sorry I was just looking for Harry?" Rebecca said as she fiddled with the sleeves of her green parka. The boy in question was lying on the sofa nursing a hangover but even in that state he could recognise that voice anywhere. He jumped up from the sofa ignoring his headache and he couldn't help but smile to see the girl in front of him. She had dyed her hair a light blonde, he wasn't sure he loved it as much as her natural colour but her smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 
"Rebecca. What are you doing here?" He asked, taking in the sight of the girl in front of him and wanting to do nothing else but touch her to see if she was real.
"Erm, someone messaged me asking to check if you were okay, but you seem to be," Rebecca replied. Although she knew they had agreed to see other people and she had rebuffed his idea to wait it still hurt to see a little. 
"I'm ok. How are you? While you're here did you want to catch up?" Harry asked, glancing very quickly at Katie who knew exactly who the girl at the door was, Harry had told her all about Rebecca. 
"No, I mean if you want to I don't want to intrude just. You look tired. Look I'm in town the weekend, you have my number if you wanted to meet up," Rebecca offered. Harry nodded and Rebecca made her excuses and said goodbye, but the message never came. 
Future chapters will be posted on my wattpad
47 notes · View notes
moefangzz · 1 year ago
Text
♱Bloodspur♱
Book content warnings // Gore descriptions, mature and sexual themes, profanity, violence, brief mentions of addiction. Most of these will not be explained in explicit detail but it is important to know they are implied and will be discussed. It is also important to note that the main character is depicted as a succubus, so don't take these content warnings lightly—boning is literally his thing.
Bloodspur is an upcoming southern gothic supernatural thriller novel that features a main leading cast of queer, poc characters. The setting is rural Tennessee, in a small town called "Mosshyde". There, a man named Circe Lovell is preparing to enter his fourth new job in a month. What he doesn't expect is what he thought was a unbeknownst police organization to be an elite taskforce dedicated to hunting the supernatural. Cryptids, the occult, the divine, even! You name it, they catch it. He is surprised to find a welcoming yet stern team called "Team Ecto" that consists of Celine Rodriguez, Seph Whitlock, Monika Lafayette, Cory Manchester, and Hector Ramírez. The organization they serve is entitled "B.O.O.O", the Bureau of Occult Offense and Organization. He is assigned to be a field soldier and it becomes hard for him to adjust to the dangerous and high stakes environment he is placed in. It also doesn't help with Hector bantering with him non stop. Things get more challenging when Circe finds himself discovering a secret testing lab that is trying to devise a more controlled strain of rabies to enhance human strength and durability for war, and he gets bit by a few of the lab's test subjects, bats. He later wakes up back at B.O.O.O with a newfound insatiable hunger for... flesh. humans... lust. Follow the team on a blood pumping and occasionally laughter inducing journey as they try to prevent Circe from spreading the the virus around. You will find the experience rather... Reforming.
11 notes · View notes