#Best Hair Removal In Manchester

[sakasinterlude]

passionfruit | ruben dias x fem!reader

its summer vacation and you and ruben share some quality time on a yacht.

nsfw 18+, contains smut, ends with fluff!

a/n: i wrote this a while ago and decided it deserved to be read by someone other than me, so enjoy. definitely not a city fan, but ruben is just so sexy.

“I think this is my favourite place.”

“You love Greece that much?”

“No, I meant in your arms.” You give Ruben a playful shove of the shoulder as the soft bounces of the waves below keep you distracted.

It was another warm afternoon on what felt like a never-ending vacation with your boyfriend Ruben. Everyday consisted of beautiful views, delicious meals, and the warm company of your partner. The mornings blended into nights, as you had lost track of the days you had spent away from home, using blissful orgasms as the only unit of measurements. Twelve, not that you were complaining.

You reach for the fresh fruit cut up in a small bowl to the right. You take a big bite, savouring the sweet juice of the mango, a soft hum leaves your lips.

“Here.” Offering the other half to Ruben whose eyes stay closed lying beside you, still covered by his sunglasses. He absent-mindedly opens his mouth accepting your offering, not without playfully nipping at the tips of your fingers.

“So sweet.” He mummers, pulling your leg closer across his body, drawing random shapes on the hamstring of your leg. You two had been intertwined like this for so long you almost forget where he begins and you start, with your hand wandering from his wet locks to broad strong shoulders to his tan waist.

You prop yourself up on your elbow so now you are on your side facing Ruben, leg still over his waist.

“What will we do when we go home?” You ask into the wind, letting the Mediterranean air roam through your damp hair, lightly stroking his jaw with your free hand.

“What are you talking about? This is home.”

A cheeky smirk adorns his lips as his arms wrap tighter around your waist. You can just barely see the crinkles on the corner of his eyes, assumed by his own joke.

“Don’t stress minha querida, (my dear) I just want to enjoy the last moments of peace we have before everything gets crazy again.” You know all too well the hectic schedule of your shared life back in Manchester. A mixture of stolen kisses in the morning as you depart for work well before he even wakes up, catching up over lunch where your eyes dart between his facetime call and your latest work assignment, to late night baths together where you both are too exhausted to speak, just soft hands running over the others limbs. It was difficult to find any uninterrupted time together back home.

“Your right.” You sigh bringing you bodies impossibly close.

“I am. Now it’s been way too long since I’ve made you cum.” With that his quick fingers are already pulling at your bikini strings, making their way between your legs.

If Ruben was anything as a lover, it was a tease. He loved having you on a string, bringing you oh so close to the edge, just to yank you right back with a devious smirk. And of course, despite all the love making done this trip he still never got sick of this cat and mouse game.

His mouth plays connect the dots, finding all the little nips and love marks he made previously. The sensation gives you chills in the best way, you swear you can feel it in your toes. His hands stay busy not even entering you yet, just playing with the wetness surrounding your lower lips.

“So needy aren’t you? Just dying for my fingers I’m sure.” The feeling is so sweet you can barely speak just letting out the softest yes in reply.

“Here, its your turn for a taste.” His face is so close to yours as he removes his fingers to run them along your bottom lip. With two soft taps your mouth is open, accepting his two fingers covered in a sinful mix of both of your cum, and the fruit from earlier that day.

“You love that shit, huh gato?” (sexy)Ruben was also cocky, very cocky. He knew exactly what buttons to push, using the sweet nickname that was reserved only for the most intimate moments. You close your eyes and hum, relishing in his slender fingers, sliding digit by digit into your mouth.

With little hesitation, Ruben removes his fingers sharply, making their way down under. He curls in his finger, just one at first, before rolling it out slowly, so you can feel every curve, intentionally done to manifest the most pleasure. Again, repeatedly with an additional finger, in and out, sinfully, painfully good. You hid your face within his shoulder.

“C’mon, let me see that face.” He pushes even deeper, how you are not even sure. “Let me hear that sweet voice.”

You let out a loud and long moan into the open air around you. You and Ruben often engage in shameless sex, not caring for the cries and whines created, just the pure pleasure produced. Memories of rushed moments in the bathroom of dinners, handsy uber rides, and banging neighbors in hotel rooms bring a smile to your face. This was probably the most ideal setting for the two of you to be wrapped up with each other, not a soul as far as the eye can see, nothing but endless blue water meeting endless blue skies.

Your high creeps up quickly as all you can think you is “how can he make me feel this good?”. The want and need to finish forces your legs shut, the sensation is just so strong.

Ruben’s strength quickly forces your legs flat and flush with the flimsy mattress below you, spreading your legs wide.

“I’m close, really close.” You barely have the power to say the words. Ruben removes his fingers, not for long as he moves to play with your clit. Your mouth gapes open, looking between his messy fingers at work, and his big smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He places all four fingers over your bud, rubbing back and forth easily thanks to your cum. You grab at his tan veiny forearm, not to stop him, just to feel his sharp movements, wrapping yourself around his arm. You can’t take it anymore, tossing your head back, arching your back, finally cumming.

“Yes, yes, yes!” He chants right up against your ear, his words muffled and merged together into incoherent nonsense. You whine and cry, twist and curl, all while Rubens hands stay overstimulating you completely.

“Good girl, yes gato, your good, so so good.” His hand now out from your legs and  wrapped around your head, pushing your damp hair away from your face, pressing kisses and sweet words into your skin.

You look up at his soft brown eyes, they have a sparkle to them almost, maybe from the sex, maybe from the sun, but regardless you can’t look away, only pulling your face close to his. You bring your nose right up to his, maintaining eye contact, rubbing yours against his, a silent thank you of sorts. You two had many non-verbal forms of communicating, this being one of them. Ruben lets out a sigh, coupled with a dopey smile.

“There is nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.” He says sincerely, looking deep into your eyes. Eyes he’s met before hundreds of times, eyes he could write pages on the exact hues and undertones they possess. You blush deeply, bringing your hand to brush at his beard.

“I feel the same way, amour.” (love) His turn now to mimic your same blushing cheeks. “But please let me put my bottoms back on before the crew comes looking for us.”

He laughs, untangling his arms from around your body. The thought of the outside world not even crossing his mind in this moment of bliss.  

[wileys-russo]

not so wise II a.russo x reader

she looks so cuddly there ^ not so wise II a.russo x reader

"do you want us to come in with you?" lotte offered as she pulled into the dental clinic and found a parking spot. "no it should be fine. i know where to go and they said it shouldn't take much more than twenty minutes before i'm admitted." alessia declined, grabbing her bag and unbuckling herself.

the blonde was due to get her wisdom teeth removed today and yourself and lotte as her closest friends had volunteered to drive her there and look after her post surgery. tooney and mary had both volunteered given the wsl had a two week break but alessia assured them they should spend the time with family and loved ones in manchester instead.

"did they tell you roughly how long you'll be under for?" you questioned, rolling down your window as the taller girl hovered by the car, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "an hour or two maybe? they've got lotte's number and they said they'll call you once i'm in recovery and thats when you come inside." alessia explained as you both nodded.

"once you're all loopy!" you grinned teasingly making the girl roll her eyes. "i still say its something people put on and over act for views, i'm sure i'll be a little out of it but i don't think it'll be half as dramatic as everyone says it is." alessia assured herself as you and lotte only hummed with amused smiles.

"well bye then!" the blonde rolled her eyes again at your obvious disbelief toward her words, though this time more playfully as you both called out good luck and she disappeared inside.

"so...full english?"

~

"got any fives?" you asked, tucking your knees to your chest and peering at lotte over the top of your cards. "how do you win every single time, you're cheating!" the older girl huffed handing over her cards as you grinned.

"you're just terrible at this lots you've always been shit at card games." you chuckled, not willing to reveal you could actually see the poor girls cards in the reflection of the window behind her.

the two of you had gone for breakfast and coffee and had returned to the clinic, now sat in lotte's car trying to pass the time as you waited for her phone to ring.

"harsh. but alright new game, blackjack!" lotte announced, holding out her hands for your cards, though right as she began to shuffle the deck her phone rang. a few words exchanged with the nurses and the two of you had locked the car and headed inside.

"she's in the fourth door on your left girls." the nurse pointed down the hallway after checking you both in, thanking her you headed down there. "is that?" you paused, hearing a familiar voice singing.

"oh my god it is." lotte grinned, the two of you hurrying to the source of the noise, opening the door to find a nurse begging alessia stop moving her mouth, the gauze continually falling out.

"oh look it's my best friends, you came!" alessia gasped with a slur as you and lotte looked on gleefully at her current state of drugged up delusion. "hi lessi, you feeling okay?" you smiled moving to her side and running a hand through her hair.

"i feel....so good." alessia chuckled, grabbing your top and yanking you down closer to her. "we gotta steal some of this stuff it is great." she whispered making you laugh and gently pry her hands off of you as lotte spoke with the nurse.

"okay less you need to stop yelling because the nurse needs to put the gauze back in your mouth to stop the bleeding." lotte explained gently to the taller girl who groaned.

"it feels like im eating marshmallows i don't want it!" she whined, pushing away the nurses hands. "you don't eat it! you just leave it in your mouth." you reminded with a chuckle, alessia finally allowing the nurse to re-insert the gauze.

"this is going to be a long afternoon." lotte mumbled to you with a knowing smile as alessia started to ramble about how she didn't believe they'd taken her teeth out because she could still feel them in her mouth, words hardly understandable with the cotton pads shoved in her cheeks.

"but a funny one." you grinned in response.

~

"-here we gooo! tooney and lessi russo." alessia finished singing for what felt like the one hundredth time as now yours and lottes patience was beginning to slowly thin. "can they put the gauze back in?" lotte sighed dragging her hands down her face.

"they said we can take her home soon." you patted the older girls knee with a smile as alessia commenced the infamous song yet again, taking full advantage of the happy gas she was coming down from.

"oi. get my bag!" alessia stopped and pointed at you. "get your bag?" you hinted with a smile. "please." alessia corrected as you chuckled and passed her the bag. "less i don't think you'll need that it's not very cold out." you laughed as she pulled out a beanie.

"oh god stop it hold on." you shook your head as she tried to yank it on over her hair which was up in a bun. moving to let it out you took the beanie from her and gently tucked it on, patting her head once you were done.

"you're so good to me." the blonde sighed, grabbing your hand and placing a few kisses to the back of your palm as you scrunched up your nose and pushed her head away. "your mouths all bloody." you chuckled, pulling your hand away and wiping it.

"you wiped off my kisses!" alessia gasped before flipping you off. "oh i like doing this." she giggled, turning her middle fingers toward lotte who grinned and took a picture. "oh my god lessi." you hurried to push her hands down as the doctor and nurse entered and the blonde flipped them off too.

"i can assure you i've taken worse." the man chuckled as alessia flipped him off again and you held her hands in yours to stop her. "if you wanted to hold hands you should have just asked babe." alessia grinned, head flopping to the side as you sighed and shook your head.

"the anesthesia should start to wear off in the new few hours so you're both welcome to take her home now. i assume one of you is staying with her overnight to monitor?" he asked as you confirmed that would be you, lotte having dinner plans with tao.

"if she has any abnormally heavy bleeding, or a reaction to anything or the pain worsens beyond a five or six out of ten just give us a call." he gave you a card with the clinic details on it which you stashed in your pocket, quickly grabbing alessia's hand again as her middle finger popped back up.

you thanked him as lotte disappeared with the nurse to sign off on alessia's discharge papers. "do you ever think about if you drop soap on the floor. is the soap dirty or is the floor clean?" alessia pondered as you looked down at her in amusement.

"can't say i have less." you grabbed her bag off her lap, slinging it over your shoulder. "come on, time to head home." you helped her up into a sitting position, encouraging she slowly try to stand. "okay easy!" you grunted as the taller girl stumbled into you.

"you're so tiny. i could just wrap you up and put you in my pocket." alessia sighed, one hand resting on your head as the other slung over your shoulders, your own wrapped around her torso as you helped her walk out of the room.

lotte grabbing her from the other side the walk to the car was much smoother, alessia still rambling away absolutely anything that popped up in her mind, no chance of any sort of filter being active at the moment.

"why am i in the back! i'm the oldest." alessia huffed as you both slid her in and buckled her up. "no you're not you idiot." lotte laughed, slipping into the drivers seat. "yeah i've decided i'm the oldest now. deal with it bruv!" alessia slurred with a shrug.

"oh god her chav era's returning." you teased, alessia scoffing in offence and winding down the window as lotte pulled out of the clinic. "can we get food please? i'm starving!" alessia groaned dramatically.

"you're not allowed to eat for another two hours sorry less." you turned around with an apologetic smile as she groaned louder and sunk down into her seat, frowning like a scolded child. "i'm wasting away here! i'll die of starvation!" alessia moaned kicking the back of your seat as lotte chuckled and you started to film the blonde kicking off.

"they're starving me here send help!" she stuck her head out the window with a yell and gasped as suddenly her beanie went flying off her head, sending you and lotte into hysterics.

"that was my favourite beanie! it's from college." alessia cried out as you wound up her window. "should have kept your head in the car then less, you're not a dog." lotte chuckled as she pulled into alessia's driveway.

the blonde whinging the entire time both you and lotte managed to get her inside and settled on the lounge. "has it been two hours yet?" alessia huffed impatiently as you covered her with a blanket and shook your head causing her to groan.

"here you big sook put this on your jaw where it's sore." lotte returned handing alessia an icepack. "you sure you don't want me to stay?" she checked as you walked with her to the door. "no! you've been looking forward to these plans with tao all week. we'll be fine." you assured, hugging the girl goodbye and closing the door after her.

"what are you doing lessi?" you sighed with a smile as alessia was wrestling with the blanket. "i'm hot. i'm trying to take my pants off!" the blonde huffed in annoyance, words still slightly slurred from the swelling and anesthesia.

"do you want me to get you some shorts and a t-shirt?" you offered, hurrying off to her room and rummaging through her drawers, grabbing what you needed. "here." you threw them to her, laughing as the bundle of clothes hit her in the face.

"who turned the lights out!" she yelled against the material as you rolled your eyes and peeled them off, pulling the blanket off of her and retreating to the kitchen to put your phone on charge as she changed.

"well, all things considered that went quite well." you grinned seeing she had managed to change but had put her shirt on inside out. "what do you want to watch?" you collapsed beside her on the lounge, kicking your feet up onto her coffee table and grabbing the remote.

"something not food related!" alessia moaned in annoyance. "and here i was about to put on the great british bake off!" you teased, encouraging her to put the ice pack back against her mouth. "my arms are tired, you hold it." alessia demanded with a huff tossing it onto your lap.

clicking into she's the man, more so for your own viewing pleasure than hers, you shuffled closer to her and gently pressed the icepack to her cheek.

"can't believe you wiped off my kisses before, those were with love!" alessia glared up at you as you shook your head. "your mouth was all bloody! it was gross." you laughed making her scoff.

"if i kissed you on the lips would you wipe it off?" she challeneged, eyes starting to become a little droopy as the doctor warned she would likely become quite tired the more it wore off.

"why would you kiss me on the lips?" you chuckled with smile. "cause i have a crush on you, sshh." alessia hushed, a finger pressing to your lips as your eyes widened.

"don't tell y/n though." alessia yawned, stretching out as her eyes started to close. you opened your mouth to speak but thought better of it, knowing this would need to be a conversation had tomorrow.

~

"morning." you looked up from your phone as alessia appeared with a yawn, making a beeline right for her coffee machine, holding a mug up as you nodded.

"how do you feel?" you asked, last nights confession still playing on your mind as you locked your phone and rested your chin on your hand. "like i got punched in the mouth? and a bit foggy about most of yesterday afternoon." alessia chuckled with a rasp, morning voice thick as she slumped against the bench.

"all i'll say is you definitely need to retract your statement about people putting it on for views." you smiled causing her to groan and turn back to the coffee machine. "i assume you and lotte have plenty of video evidence." she sighed, moving to lean on the counter across from you, sliding you your coffee and sipping on her own.

"we do. but most of it was harmless," you assured her with a soft smile as her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "most of it?"

"yeah um, there is something you said i sort of want to talk about." you started, putting down your coffee and messing with your fingers as alessia nodded. "you might have kind of...said you have a crush on me?" you winced as the blonde choked on her coffee, spitting it back out and coughing as you hurried to grab her some water.

she croaked out a thank you and took a swig as you sat back down.

"it was just me being drugged up!" she brushed off, clearly embarrassed as her face burnt bright red and she refused to look at you. "less i-" you started as she cut you off, mumbling how she wanted to shower and darting off to the bathroom.

you waited for her to return, settling in on the lounge and flicking on her tv.

around a half an hour later she emerged, silently sitting beside you as neither of you spoke for a few minutes.

"so maybe it wasn't the anesthesia." alessia started, looking down at her hands. "i do kind of have a crush on you, as juvenile as that sounds given the fact we're twenty four." she chuckled awkwardly.

"but i really value our friendship and i don't want to lose that or make you uncomfortable so i'm so sorry if i have."

"you haven't, i promise."

"that was not at all the way i wanted you to find out." alessia sighed burying her face in her hands. "drunk mind sober thoughts hm." you nudged her with a soft smile.

"so are you going to ask me on a date or just sit here feeling sorry for yourself?" you asked nudging her again, alessia's head shooting up, surprise etched into her features. "um. do you want to go and get dinner?" the blonde stumbled over her words as you nodded, finding how flustered she was incredibly cute.

"yeah i do."

[babyblue711]

Redemption

Will (Salad Days) x Reader - Part 4 Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Summary: You and Will take a weekend getaway to Manchester and enjoy some time away from home. You reconnect once more, deepening your bond after the hardships you've been through together. Words: 6.0K

Warnings: NSFW, smut, language, sexual content (18+), anal fingering, alcohol, brief mention of divorce A/N: Alas, the final chapter. When I set out to write this fic, I only intended it as a one-shot and never expected it to turn into 4 chapters! After the trauma that I've made you all endure for the last 3 parts, enjoy something a little more light-hearted. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU ALL for loving this fic as much as I do. I sincerely appreciate it so much. My beta's are incredible: @megatardisbaby and @arcielee. And thank you to @assortedseaglass for letting me pick your brain and for encouraging me to tell this story from day one. Dividers by @firefly-graphic

The lighting in your hotel bathroom casts a warm glow as you focus on your reflection in the mirror, pleased with the way your hair cascades into perfect curls, framing your face elegantly. You'd spent a bit of extra time getting ready for tonight and the effort showed. As you apply the final touches of mascara, the door creaks open and Will peeks in, checking to see if you are close to being ready yet.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you see him standing there. You can’t help but appreciate how handsome he looks in his dark green button up shirt with long sleeves and black trousers; his tousled hair added a hint of casual charm to his otherwise polished appearance. It was the last night of your short weekend getaway to Manchester and you were splurging by going to a nice restaurant; you made sure he packed the proper clothes so he could dress the part. 

He leans against the doorframe and admires you in the mirror, eyes drinking in your appearance. 

“Like what you see?” you tease playfully. As you look at him in the mirror, you swear his blue eyes turn a shade or two darker, lust pooling in his pupils. 

“I definitely do,” his voice is a little huskier than usual as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to place a kiss on your neck, sending a delightful shiver up your spine. 

You move your head to the side to allow him better access to your neck; you’re still wearing your towel from your shower since you prefer to do your hair and makeup first and get dressed last. He trails kisses down your neck and along your shoulder as he reaches for your towel, opening it and finding nothing on underneath. 

“Is this how you’re going to dinner? Naked wrapped in a towel?” he asks cheekily, his lips still on your neck as his hands start to slide over your hips and up your sides. 

Your breath catches in your chest as the heat from his hands running across your ribs seems to radiate right to your core and you make an effort to remember your dinner reservations; you need to focus on getting ready so you wouldn’t be late. But his touch is addictive, the best drug you’ve ever had. 

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you too as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and reaches for your slit, his chin now resting on your shoulder; you both watch in the mirror as he runs his fingers through your wet folds, slowly, sensually. Your heavily lidded eyes flick up to meet his gaze as you let out a soft moan. 

“How ‘bout a quickie before dinner?” he murmurs in your ear, playing with your bud as his other hand removes your towel completely and starts to caress your breasts.

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you watch him touch you and you sigh softly. “Yes, but we gotta make it fast.”

“Can do,” he says before spinning you around and lifting you easily onto the bathroom counter. You worry briefly about his clothes since he’s already dressed for dinner and you don’t want to ruin them as he pulls his thick cock out, which is already standing proudly, veins popping, head weeping. He pulls his pants to his thighs and you lift his shirt to keep it out of the way. 

You sit at the edge and spread your legs for him, leaning back towards your elbows, the marble of the countertop cold on your ass. It’s not the most comfortable position, but it’ll have to do as Will takes the head of his cock and lines it up with your entrance, sheathing it inside of you in one fluid thrust. 

You both groan in unison; you as his thick cock stretches your wet, velvet walls, almost to the point of pain, and Will, as your tight, warm pussy squeezes around him, enveloping him completely. He stills for a moment and his lips move to your breasts, alternating between each nipple as he takes them into his mouth and sucks lightly, while his other hand slides down to play with your pearl. You run your fingers through his hair as his tongue tantalizes your nipples. 

He bites down and sucks gently on the skin of your breast causing you to arch further into his face. Your head falls back and hits the mirror; a dull gong sound filling the small bathroom space and you press your lips together to keep from chuckling. Will seems oblivious as he starts to rock his hips into you and sets a steady pace. From your propped-up position on the counter, you can see his long, thick cock gliding in and out of you, glistening with your juices. Fascinated, you sit up a little more to get a better view.

“Like what you see?” Will echoes your earlier question gruffly as he notices you watching.

“Hmm,” you half purr, half moan in response and decide to give him a little squeeze with your pussy, purposefully clenching your walls around his cock as hard as you can; his thrusts stutter a bit as his eyes flick up to yours and you smirk at him.  

“Fuckin’ hell woman,” he growls, voice deep and low and picks up his pace, snapping his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping together and squelching noises from your wet core fill the bathroom. 

You mewl and lean back again, the pleasure building deep from within as Will continues his brutal pace, his thumb moving to circle your pearl furiously. You close your eyes and get lost in the sensation of him moving deep inside of you, filling you up, his cock grinding consistently against your g-spot with every thrust; you concentrate to bring your pleasure forth, knowing you have limited time to reach your peak. Your breathing starts to pick up as your orgasm approaches; Will hears the difference in your breath and begins encouraging you, knowing that you’re close. 

“You have the most beautiful little cunt I’ve ever seen,” he growls through gritted teeth as he feels your walls start to pulse around him, “Taking me so well. C’mon, Y/N, cum for me,” he grunts as he pistons his hips into yours.

His relentless thrusts tip you over the edge and you cry aloud with his name on your lips as pleasure rips through your core; your legs tremble from the force of your orgasm and your arms shake from holding yourself in this position. A visible ripple moves in the muscles of your lower belly as your pussy clenches around his cock; Will watches in fascination how your body shakes and quivers under him as you come undone. 

He continues to pound into you, extending your pleasure with every deep thrust against your sensitive walls. When you finally stop shaking and lay limp, he pulls out and paints your belly with his spend.

You both are breathing heavily as he gets the wet washcloth from the shower to clean you up. You watch him wipe you clean as you try to catch your breath, admiring the way he always takes care of you afterwards. Focused on his task, he doesn’t seem to notice your gaze. Once you’re clean, he leans down and kisses your clit, the gesture making you jump as little as his lips brush against your sensitive core.

He then leans up to give you a light kiss on the lips. “I love it when you scream my name,” he mumbles against your mouth and you can’t help but smile into his kiss. 

“How much time do we have left, Will?” you ask as he picks you up off the counter and sets you back on the floor. 

He checks his watch. “About 10 minutes,” he says with a grin, knowing you need at least double that to finish getting ready.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath as you hurry out of the bathroom to get dressed, leaving Will to tuck himself back into his pants and straighten his own clothes.

You sit across from Will at dinner, feeling pride that you managed to make your reservation on time and reminisce about your trip together. The soft candlelight casts a warm glow around you, creating an intimate setting for your meal; it was certainly the nicest restaurant you had been to in some time. 

Will seems a little out of his element, but he seems to be taking it in stride. You smile a little to yourself as you watch him as he looks over the menu, knowing he’d prefer a simple meal of fish and chips or a hamburger compared to anything written there. You sigh in contentment; you were right to think that a trip would have done you both good. Getting away from home and work was refreshing, a break that was long overdue for you both. 

Although touristy, you both had enjoyed taking a boat trip along the city’s historic canals and exploring the Northern Quarter, known for its architecture, street art, unique boutiques and quirky cafes. You loved being able to explore the city together with Will and you were pleased that the two of you traveled well together; he was the relaxed, easy-going one, ready to do anything on a whim, whereas you were the one with the checklist to make sure you saw all the things that you wanted to see and ensuring you had the proper reservations and arrival time…unless sex took precedence, of course. 

You order with the waiter and sip your glass of wine while you and Will discuss memories from the last few days. He looks so handsome in the low light and you were thankful you managed not to ruin his button down shirt since he had only brought one with him, the glint of his silver necklace is just visible around his collar. His hair is a little ruffled from when you ran your fingers through it during your quickie, but the look suits him well. You reach under the table and rub your high heeled foot up and down his leg; his eyes immediately snap to yours and you smirk as you take another sip of wine, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“You’re insatiable,” he growls lowly so the other diners can’t hear, his eyes dancing in amusement. 

“Oh…you have no idea,” you promise seductively and raise your foot to brush his inner thigh, thankful that the floor length white tablecloth hid what you were doing to him under the table. He shifts a little in his seat as your foot brushes along the sensitive part of his thigh and he grabs hold of your ankle to stop your movements further, giving you a “behave or else” type of look, his eyes glinting with amused malice. You grin in satisfaction at your small victory and remove your foot from his thigh.

Perhaps it was the distance from all the pain and trauma that came from being home in Nottingham, but you and Will had gotten back on track with your sex life during your trip, acting like ravenous, horny teenagers from the amount of times you had coupled in the last few days. You were well satisfied but, with him, it would never be enough.

After dinner, you walk hand in hand back towards the hotel. As you pass by, the vibrance of Canal St. catches your attention and you can’t help but pull Will along behind you, wanting to explore. The pedestrian street is crowded as you stroll by sophisticated cocktail lounges and lively dance clubs pulsating with music. The atmosphere thrums with energy and excitement and you can’t help but feel caught up in it all, helped along with the bottle of wine you and Will had consumed at dinner. Although neither of you were really “nightlife” or “club-going” people anymore, you spot a cute and cozy pub as you make your way toward Richmond St and you convince Will to stop in for one last drink before heading back into the hotel for the night.

Stepping into the bar, you find yourself instantly captivated by its charm. The soft, warm glow of dim lighting casts a welcoming ambiance over the wooden interior, giving it an inviting and intimate feel. The clinking of glasses and lively conversations of the other patrons create a soft hum in the background. You and Will approach the bar and order a drink and you notice a live band is setting up, getting ready to play for the evening. Once you have your drinks in hand, you find a comfy corner to snuggle into where you can observe the band and people-watch easily.

Sipping your drinks, you both enjoy the live band as you watch couples engage in animated conversations and groups of friends laughing and toasting. Not long after your arrival, a commotion comes through the door, slightly disrupting the relaxed atmosphere of the bar. 

A loud and excitable hen-do party bustles into the cozy pub and makes their way to the bar. The bride is dressed in white while her bridesmaids were all in pink dresses with sashes, marking them as part of the bridal party. They obviously had come from nearby Canal St. which is normally the more popular area for hen-dos. They must have been bar-hopping for some time before stopping into this particular pub, as the volume of their voices, stumbling feet, and constant laughter was an obvious giveaway that they were all quite drunk.

Once they’ve been served, they choose to sit down not far from you and Will, but they seem a little more reserved once they’ve been sat with their drinks, talking cheerily amongst themselves. After the next song, you get up to use the restroom, passing by the group of girls on your way. 

When you head back to your seat, you notice the table where the girls were sitting is empty except for the bride and one other bridesmaid, and, as you look over in your corner that you had shared with Will, you don’t see him there either. Concerned, your eyes scan the room and quickly find him standing at the bar, surrounded by three of the bridesmaids from the group. 

You figure he must have just gotten up to get you both another drink, but you hesitate for a moment, watching him surrounded by these girls. Drunk and rowdy, they have long since stopped worrying about other people’s personal space as one of them is quite literally hanging off his left arm, looking up at him with big doe-eyes, another is standing directly behind him, almost as if she’s trying to box him in, and a third is on his right side, pressing her back up against the tall bar and arching her voluptuous tits right into his face. 

You’re momentarily stunned to see these girls hanging all over your man. Ordinarily, you weren’t the jealous type, but in this moment, you couldn’t help but think, What the fuck? Why wasn’t Will telling them to get off him?

You continue to watch him, debating whether you need to step in or not, as you see him smile and speak to the girl hanging on his arm as she swings her long, chocolate brown hair over her shoulder, and your heartbeat picks up a little. His body language is a little stiff at their proximity, but he certainly isn’t telling them to move.

You decide to go back to your corner and watch him from afar as you resume your seat and cross your arms, glaring in his direction. They are all talking to him animatedly and you see his head nodding and moving, indicating he is interacting back. Suddenly, the girl with the big tits reaches for his collar, pulling his silver necklace from underneath his shirt and holding it in her palm. Your eyes widen as you gape at her audacity of the intimate gesture, and you almost get up to give her a piece of your mind. Before you can move, Will pulls away from her, gently taking his pendant from her grasp and putting it back in his shirt as he shakes his head a little, just as the bartender sets two drinks down in front of him. 

The girl on the left seems to notice the two drinks and you see her lips move as she asks him something and he nods back in your direction, briefly making eye contact with you. You see all three girls turn to look at you and you return their look with an icy glare of your own. Their faces fall noticeably as Will finally manages to shrug them off and heads back to your corner with the drinks.

He seems oblivious to the tension rolling off of you in waves as he sets your drink down in front of you. A small smile plays on his lips and he seems lost in thought, pleased about something. He takes his seat and glances up at you, finally taking in your expression and the stiff way you have your arms folded across your chest. 

“Enjoying the attention?” you say in a dangerous tone, eyes full of fire; although you do secretly acknowledge that the alcohol you had consumed that night might be fueling your ire a little more than usual, given the situation. 

“Wha’?” he seems confused and instantly you feel a prick of annoyance at having to explain the obvious. 

You lean in close so he can hear you over the boom of the band as they start up another song. “Those girls were practically hanging off of you,” you yell into his ear. “And you let them…and what’s up with that one with the big tits grabbing your necklace?!” you say all annoyed, glaring at him reproachfully.

“One had big tits?” Will asks genuinely, looking at you with clueless big eyes. You give him a stern look, how could he not have noticed? 

“They’re just drunk and having fun. It didn’t mean anything...I didn’t want to be rude,” he shrugs like nothing happened.

“Oh really? What did they say to you?” you ask because you’re nosy and you want to know more. 

He shifts in his seat, a tad uncomfortable now. “Well…they didn’t know I was with you obviously, but they came up to me and weren’t shy about wanting me to go back to their place for the night,” he refuses to meet your gaze for a moment as he sips his drink. 

You glare daggers at him and he finally looks over at you and smirks, his demeanor smug. He leans back over to shout into your ear over the sound of the music.

“C’mon, love, you’re better than this. Don’t be jealous over a bunch of drunk girls,” he says into your ear, his hand coming up to cup your face sweetly, “If anything, they are jealous of you, since you’re the one I’ll be fucking later tonight.” 

Although still slightly perturbed at their boldness, you feel your icy glare melt under his warm gaze as you absorb his words. You relent, smirking a little as you look back over to their table. They’ve moved on to another group of guys at the bar who seem way more eager to have their attention than Will did a few minutes ago. You take a deep breath and realize you made it more serious than it actually was, although you were also still a little annoyed at the pleased look that Will had worn from their attention.

You turn back to him and look up into his eyes. He leans in and gives you a kiss, soft but firm, that you return eagerly, enjoying his rare display of PDA. “Finish your drink and we’ll go,” he says, “I didn’t mean to upset you,” his gaze is apologetic.  

You sigh, “It’s okay, Will,” you lean in for another quick kiss. 

Perhaps you were spurred on by the alcohol you had consumed that night, or maybe you just wanted to antagonize the bridal party that kept looking back at you in the corner. But after he breaks the kiss, he takes a sip of beer and you use the opportunity to lean into him, your lips on his neck, just below his ear, hand reaching in between his thighs and rubbing his crotch provocatively. In the low light, you figured it would be difficult to see exactly what you were doing to him anyway, but you didn’t care. He almost chokes on his beer at your unexpected touch, immediately grabbing your hand, holding it safely in his grasp.

“Well, you better hurry because I’m already wet,” you say seductively into his ear, knowing which buttons to push to drive him wild. You lean away, watching your touch and your words take the intended effect on Will almost immediately.  

His gaze burns into yours, his eyes darkening as he watches you take two large gulps of your cocktail, rushing on purpose and giving him a look that simply says hurry up.

Not needing any more encouragement than that, he chugs his beer and finishes the same time you polish off your drink. You get up, barely able to keep your hands off of each other. You don’t even glance at the bridal party as you leave with him, hand in hand. What did they matter after all?  

Stumbling through the door of your hotel room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp welcomes you back warmly from your night out on the town. You can't help but smile as you continue your passionate embrace with Will, the electric energy between you both is palpable. The earlier touches and kisses in the elevator were just a prelude to what you knew was coming next. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the intoxicating pleasure of being with each other. 

Your lips meet again, hungry and eager, as your tongues battle for dominance against the other. You can taste the beer on his breath and the cigarette he had on the way back to the hotel. He takes your face in both of his hands and pushes you up against the wall, his body leans into yours, trapping you. Your hands reach down to pull out his shirt that’s tucked into his pants, reaching for his belt, impatient as always. 

He suddenly removes his hands from your face and reaches to clasp yours that are now working to undo the top button of his pants. He takes your wrists in each hand and pulls them above your head, pressing his body into you further, grinding his pelvis into you. You already feel how hard and ready he is, the slick forming between your thighs as you grind back against him. You moan into his mouth, his tongue sliding over yours, tasting the sweet taste of your cocktail on your lips.

He grasps both of your wrists easily with one hand, still held above your head, and his other hand travels down your body, pulling up your dress until his fingers find your damp center.

You moan into his touch and spread your legs a little as he moves your panties to the side, his fingers sliding over your wet folds. He suddenly inserts a finger inside of you, sending electric sparks up your spine as he languidly moves his finger in and out of you, watching your face with heavily hooded eyes. Your breathing picks up as he adds a second finger, reaching deep inside for that special spot, crooking his fingers as he easily finds your g-spot and rubs it repeatedly. 

You pant into his mouth and your knees buckle as the pleasure of his touch courses through you; the only thing truly holding you up is his grip on your wrists and his body pressing you into the wall. He grunts into your kiss as you bite down on his bottom lip, continuing to work his fingers inside of you, lewd noises from your soaked pussy filling the room. You love it when his fingers are deep inside of you, his only goal being to focus on your pleasure. Your orgasm starts to build and your knees buckle further, your legs have become jelly as your pending release coils low in your belly. 

“Please, Will,” you beg into his mouth, he knows you won’t be able to stand by yourself if your orgasm hits you while being trapped against this accursed wall. He relents, removing his offending fingers from your pussy, still holding you against the wall with one hand as he brings his fingers covered in your slick up to his mouth and licks them clean.

“Hmm,” he groans, low in his throat, “you always taste so fucking delicious.” Your breath catches in your throat and more slick forms between your thighs as you watch him savoring your taste on his fingers. 

Once he lets go of your wrists, you immediately kick off your shoes; your heels are making your feet hurt. You walk over to the bed, pulling your hair to the side.

“Unzip me,” you say softly as Will has now kicked off his own shoes, coming to stand behind you. He undoes the little cinch and slowly slides the zipper down; the dress falls to the floor by your feet and you kick it off to the side.

His fingers effortlessly undo the clasp of your bra and you pull your panties off while he takes off his shirt and you turn to help him out of his trousers. He still has his boxers on while you’re completely naked. 

He turns you back around to face the bed, still standing. His warm body presses into your back and he slides his hands up your hips and over your ribs, caressing your breasts with both hands as his lips find your neck and shoulder. You moan and lean back into him, arching your chest up into his hands as he alternates between rolling your nipples between his fingers and kneading your breasts. 

Impatient with lust singing in your veins, you climb onto the bed, turning back around to face Will and laying on your belly on the bed facing him. You are eye-level with his cock as you pull down his boxers and take him in hand. 

You hear his breath hitch as your small hand pumps him a few times, swiping your thumb over the sensitive head. You suckle at his cock eagerly, licking and coating it in saliva before taking him completely in your wet, hot mouth. Will grunts in pleasure as you swirl your tongue over the tip, you try taking him as far as you can. He lets out a groan and suddenly thrusts into you until the head hits the back of your throat. You choke a little and give him an admonishing look. 

He smirks down at you. “Is there something you’d like to say?” he whispers darkly as he thrusts into your mouth once more, gentler this time; he’s antagonizing you, knowing you can’t answer with your mouth full of him. He tangles his fingers into your hair, “I know you can take this cock,” he says as he continues fucking your mouth. 

Well two can play this game, you think wickedly to yourself and a muffled chuckle escapes your lips despite your full mouth. You moan around his length, pulling him out of your mouth until only the sensitive tip is left. Very gently, you brush your teeth against the tip and shaft as you work your way back down. 

You hear his breath catch at the sensation of your teeth on his cock and you look up at him innocently, giving him a I’m the one that has you by the balls type of look; you reach and cup his balls just for emphasis, massaging gently. 

He grunts and backs away from you, pulling his cock out of your mouth. His gaze is dark as you sit up on the bed, but before you can move, he’s sweeping you to the middle of the bed, pushing your face into the fluffy, white comforter and bringing your ass in the air.

You smile into the sheets; you knew this was a small punishment of sorts for assuming control of him for a moment, but you didn’t care; you would take all that he gave you and still want more. Plus, doggy was one of your favorite positions. Will is kneeling behind you and you spread your legs apart and arch your back, waiting for his large cock to fill you up.

Instead, you feel a stinging slap to your rear end and you yelp in surprise, your head coming up off the bed. He pushes you back down as he rubs his palm over the sore spot, soothing it. 

“That,” Will pants, “is punishment for what you just did with your teeth.” All you can manage is a moan in response. You feel his cock at your entrance and he pushes inside, shallowly thrusting until he buries himself to the hilt, immersing himself completely inside your tight, wet cunt. 

You whimper pitifully, the angle of this position causing him to rub against your g-spot almost immediately as you relish the feeling of him deep inside of you, filling you up, two puzzle pieces becoming one again.  

He stills for a moment before landing another blow on your behind, harder this time, and you yelp again, sucking in a sharp breath. 

“And that is for being jealous over nothing,” he growls, grabbing you by the back of the hair, dragging your body up so you’re flush against his body, your neck pulled back, held by your hair.

“You’re gonna take what I give you and you’re gonna love every second of it,” he purrs into your ear as he starts thrusting harshly into you, pumping in and out of you. You mewl pathetically, lost in the sensation of his hold on your hair, the feeling of his thick cock moving deep inside you; your mind becomes hazy with lust and desire and you love it when he takes control. 

His hips snap into yours harshly for a few moments and then he unexpectedly slows, letting go of your hair; you fall back onto your elbows as you feel him pull apart your ass cheeks, bringing his cock almost all the way out to the tip and then driving back into you slowly. You know he’s watching himself slide in and out of your tight, wet hole and you’re a little envious that he’s the only one that gets to enjoy the view. You groan in pleasure at the thought. 

“I love watching your pussy take this dick.” He’s extra talkative tonight, alcohol loosening his tongue more than usual as he continues his slow deep thrusts, driving you crazy since you normally crave a faster pace with more friction. Suddenly, you feel pressure on your rim, an area you and Will haven’t explored yet. You jerk at the unexpected sensation and look back, where he smirks confidently at you. 

“I think you can take a finger,” he says and you watch him spit directly onto your asshole, his thumb massaging around it. 

“Will, I swear to god, you have to go slow,” you finally find your voice; you’re down to try anything but that wasn’t what you were expecting for tonight. You reach down and start playing with your clit, Will still moving his cock slowly in and out of you, his thumb pressing down on your rim.

He takes your warning seriously, “If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop,” he says softly, a break in his dominant facade. You nod, knowing Will would never hurt you.

Between the pleasure of your stimulated clit and Will rocking consistently against your g-spot, you don’t notice any pain as he ever so slowly inserts his thumb into your puckered hole. He adds more spit as he presses in until he’s knuckle deep.

“How’s that?” he asks, checking in.

It’s certainly an odd sensation but you feel pleasantly full, having felt no pain. You find it erotic, feeling Will’s thick cock stretching your pussy and his thumb pressed into your ass; you love the way Will consumes every part of you, body and soul.

You moan, desire coursing through you, “Oh my god, Will, that’s so good.” He picks up the pace with his thrusts again as you circle your clit furiously, pleasure building deep within. 

Hips snapping into yours, your orgasm builds low in your belly and you moan loudly with each thrust as his cock rubs along your g-spot. 

“So. Fucking. Tight,” Will grunts with each thrust, sending you closer to the edge. “Why would I want any other pussy when I have yours?” he says almost to himself. 

You groan louder, “Harder, Will, I need more,” you beg him pathetically. 

He responds by pounding into you so hard he pushes you up the bed. You anchor your elbows down as he drives relentlessly into you, wiggling his thumb a little within your tight, puckered hole, his other hand on your hip in a bruising grip to keep you still. 

You both are panting harshly as he fucks you, hard, just like you asked. Your breathing turns ragged as the coil finally snaps and your orgasm breaks over you like a tsunami wave, pleasure crashing through you, completely consumed by the intensity as it infiltrates every particle of your body. Your pussy clenches down on his cock and you cry aloud, wailing as he continues to thrust into you. 

Will rides out your pleasure until you stop shaking and mewling underneath him, pulling out and spilling his seed directly onto your asshole. Panting heavily, he spreads your cheeks apart and admires the sight of your throbbing, well-fucked pussy and his cum on your ass.

“Took me like a champ,” he says under his breath, squeezing your ass cheeks one final time before finally letting you go as you collapse onto the bed. He collapses next to you and you both spend a few minutes panting and catching your breath, before he gets up to get a towel. 

You hear the water turn on in the sink and decide to follow him to the bathroom, not caring if his cum leaks out of your ass along the way.

He’s washing his hands when you come in and glances up, surprise reflected in his expression in the mirror. Without saying anything, you stand behind him and wrap your arms around his middle from behind, hugging him, both of you still completely naked as you press your cheek against his warm back.

He finishes washing and drying his hands and rubs your arms that are clasped around his stomach.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Everything okay?”

He turns in your arms so that you’re face to face and he embraces you back as you look up and meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” you say simply, you can’t really convey what you’re feeling at the moment, but all you know is how grateful and lucky you are to have someone like him. You never expected to ever find anyone suitable again after your divorce and reconnecting with him was truly such a blessing.

He looks down into your face and your serious expression. “For what?” he asks.

“For loving me,” you say quietly into his chest as you press your cheek against his cross pendant. 

He snorts softly in disbelief. “It’s me that should be thanking you for loving me,” he says sincerely as he rests his chin on top of your head and hugs you closer.

You swallow thickly, you don’t want to cry in this moment, but he just means so much to you. 

“Always,” you mumble into his chest hair and he kisses the top of your head.  

You didn’t know what the universe had in store for you and Will. But as you stood there in that bathroom, you knew that you were right where you were meant to be.

Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @aemondsscar @pandemonium105 @cyeco13 @chainsawsangel @sylas-the-grim @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @myfandomprompts

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Your Harry, Your Winner.

a/n: in honour of the manchester city winning the champions league last night, (which for fictional purposes, harry plays for manchester city and is a die hard fan.) here’s a cute lil concept i came up with, enjoy my huns.🫶 🫶

masterlist || ask me anything <3

likes and re-blogs are very much appreciated!!

word count - 7k

in which, you’ve been there since day one when it comes to the love of your life’s football journey, ten years on and your husband harry finally has the chance to play in a me of the biggest games of his career, with your support, he can take on anything, you’ll always be his number one girl.

➳ check in. two wins in one night.

It was a bright sunny day in July, the sun was shining down against your body as your sunglasses rested on the bridge of your nose, you hair tied up in a high ponytail as you sat on the bench in the park where you were waiting for your boyfriend, Harry.

You were both eighteen when the two of you met, and your relationship had definitely been a whirl wind, it was when you were in the gym, you had just come out of college and wanted to go and get in a quick work out before heading home, he had helped you do the weights when he could see that you needed a bit of help.

Harry was the most perfect boyfriend, he was sports crazy. He loved to play football and it was his lifelong dream to play with Manchester City one day, it would make him the happiest man on earth if that ever happened. He had invited you to the games he played with his local team, and you were always there wearing a shirt with his name on the back of it, cheering him on along with his Mother, Sister and Step-father.

"(Y/N)!" A voice shouted as he approached you, making you remove the sunglasses you were wearing to see who it was.

Your eyes settled on your boyfriend, who was running towards you with wide eyes. "You won't believe what just happened!"

"What? What happened?" You asked, standing up and approaching him, what can you say, your curiosity had piqued.

"I just got scouted by Manchester City!"

He was barely able to contain his excitement as he showed you the piece of paper that he was holding in his hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise, chancing a look down at the letter and letting your eyes skim over it briefly before looking back at him. "What? Are you serious?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I went to this football camp yesterday, and one of the coaches was from Man City. He saw me play, and he said he was impressed with my skills and wanted me to try out for their academy."

His dream was finally coming true.

This was all he had wanted since you had known him, and now he had finally got it, you couldn't be any more prouder than you were right now.

You felt proud of Harry's achievement and leaned forward to hug him tightly. "That's amazing, H! I always knew you had it in you."

He grinned widely. "Thanks, babe! I couldn't have done it without your support."

You didn't think that you played a massive part in his journey, you hadn't known him when his football journey started, you had only come into his life recently so really, the ones supporting him where his family.

"I promise to come watch you play," You enthused, smiling at your boyfriend. "I'll be cheering you on from the side lines."

That was a promise.

Harry smiled back at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "Thank you, (Y/N). You're the best girlfriend ever."

As you opened your eyes on the Tenth of June, 2023, a sense of warmth encased your body, as you turned on your side and slid your arm around your fiancé's waist, snuggling in closer to him like you did every morning.

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, as you lifted your head up slightly to see that your fiancé was fast asleep, eyes closed and face relaxed, breathing steady.

Today was the day, today was the day of the Champions League Final, and your fiancé, Harry was playing in it.

The final was taking place in Istanbul, Turkey and you had flown out to support him seeing as you absolutely wouldn’t miss it for the world. This was his day and his day only.

You knew for a fact how nervous he was feeling, it was one of the biggest games of his career and he had been explaining to you all along that he couldn't mess today up, too many people were relying on him to perform well.

Knowing that he had to get up soon, you gently shook his shoulder and run another hand through his curls (that desperately needed a trim) so that he would flutter his eyes open. "Wake up, sleepy head."

You watched as the man you loved groaned slightly before opening his eyes up and letting his green orbs land on your figure that was resting next to him. He ran a hand through his own hair before sitting up in the bed and entwining your fingers together liked you usually did in the mornings.

"Morning," His raspy voice murmured, as he pressed a kiss to your lips, not caring about the morning breath you both had. "Today's the day...I can't believe it."

You sat up a tiny bit more, and offered him a reassuring smile. "Stop thinking what I know your thinking and just listen to me for a second, your going to do great, you always do, stop worrying and just think positive."

Thinking back to ten years ago when Harry surprised you with the news that he had been scouted by his boy hood team, you knew that he would be going places one day, and he had.

Over the course of his ten year career, he had scored important goals, but not once had he played in a Champions League Final, the last time Manchester City were in the final back in 2021, (where they were beaten by Chelsea.) your fiancé was injured with an ACL injury and couldn't play. It was agonising seeing him in so much pain.

You found him sat on the sofa, head in his hands, as his leg was outstretched on the coffee table, crutches resting next to him, the tv was playing in the background, but you could only focus on him.

Harry had recently torn his ACL in the last game he played, the game right before the 2021 Champions League Final, he had been looking forward to the game all season and now, he had nothing to look forward to.

He was devastated that he wouldn't be able to play for at least nine months.

"H," you gained his attention, taking a seat next to him and placing a hand on his thigh. "Talk to me, what's going on inside that head of yours?"

"I just can't believe that this happened," He spoke, voice laced with emotion. "I've been working so hard for this, and now it's all for nothing."

You were in the crowd when you saw him get tackled by a Liverpool player. He went straight down onto the floor, holding his knee, and soon had to be stretchered off the pitch by the medics, your heart broke in half for him.

He had to be rushed straight to the hospital for a surgery and that was when the doctors confirmed that he would be out for the rest of the season and would just be back in time for the world cup.

"I know, sweet boy," You nodded your head, resting your head on his shoulder and inhaling his familiar scent. "But you have to remember that they're will be other games, you'll have plenty of opportunities to score in the FA cup final, I've got faith in you, we all do."

"But this was the Champions League Final," He lifted his head and let out a small sniffle as he wiped at his under eyes. "It's like the biggest game of the season...I wanted to be out there with my team."

"I know you did," You sympathised. "And everyone on that team knows just how hard you have been working, you've been working harder then anyone else, but you have to understand that they'll want you to take care of yourself, that's all they'll want."

He then leaned his head slightly against your shoulder and heard him let out a small sigh, another tear falling down his cheeks." I just hate feeling like I let everyone down."

"H, listen to me, you did not let a single person down," You informed him firmly, making him smile slightly at your tone of voice, despite the ache his leg was currently feeling. "You got hurt, and that is no ones fault except that pricky Liverpool player, your still an important part of the team even if your not out there with them in the dug out."

He looked up at you with red rimmed eyes. "Thank you."

You kissed his forehead. "Anytime, baby, anytime."

“Today is the day,” You nodded, placing a reassuring smile, “— are you feeling okay?”

You knew for a fact that he would be feeling a multitude of emotions today, every time he played in an important game, he always got too caught up in his thoughts and feelings.

“I just can’t seem to shake my nerves,” He let out a deep breath, turning to look at your face with solace as he confessed what was going on in his head. “The pressure is just so overwhelming sometimes, all I can think about is what if I make a mistake? What if I let the team down?”

“Listen to me for a second, sweet boy,” You slid closer to him, wrapping an arm even tighter around his waist, trying to ground him for a moment. “You are talented, dedicated and even stronger than you think you are. You’ve been training for this moment for as long as I can remember.”

You heard him take in a small breath as you continued to speak. “Trust in yourself, believe in your ability just like I do, just like all your fans do.”

His gaze appeared to soften as he took in your words, finding comfort in what you had to say.

“It’s such a significant game,”Your fiancé began to explain, voice small. “— sometimes I can’t help but feel this immense pressure, I want to give my all to the team and our supporters.”

You nodded understandingly and sat up in the bed so that you were the same level, the hotel duvet pooling your waists, his bare torso on display whilst you had on an oversized shirt of his and a pair of his boxer shorts.

You rested your head on his shoulder, not before pressing a kiss to it. “You’ve come so far my love, remember the strength and resilience that you have shown time and time again, no matter the challenges that you have faced, remember that this is your time to shine.”

“Your right,” He spoke, the lines of worry that were etched on his face slowly disappearing as he seemed to acknowledge what you were saying to him. “— I’ve worked so hard to be here, nothings going to be holding me back out here on the pitch.”

A soft sound broke out through the Turkish hotel room, a gentle stirring if you must erupting from the foot of the bed you and your husband were currently resting in.

That indicated that your two year old was awake.

“Mama…dada…” Your little one cried out, voice filled to the brim with innocence and affection upon setting his sights on the two of us.

A smile appeared on your face and Harry’s eyes filled with delight.

“He’s awake.” You murmured as you stood up from the bed and made your way towards the crib that your son was standing up in.

Hunter Robin Styles.

Born four weeks after the 2021 champions league final, the perfect addition to your lives.

He was his father’s replica, brown curls settled onto his head, green eyes that resembled the colour of emeralds and dimples indented in his cheeks.

As you scooped him up into your arms, he rested his head against your shoulder, thumb instinctively entering his mouth.

The two of you returned back to bed to join your husband, Hunter scurrying over to his father like the total daddies boy he is and you moved closer to cuddle into Harry, wanting to feel his warmth once again.

The conversation shifted now that your son was on the bed, weaving in and out of words exchanged between the two of you and the laughter of little Hunter. It was a symphony of love, a reminder of the family that anchored your husband's heart amidst the chaos of the final. As a family, you spoke of dreams and hopes, fears and aspirations, all while your little one basked in the warmth of Harry’s embrace.

The conversation once again drifted, this time the past made its way into our thoughts as Harry’s voice began to tremble ever so slightly as he spoke.

“I couldn’t play last time due to my injury,” He spoke in a voice so soft that you almost didn’t hear it. “— it’s been haunting me since forever, but now this opportunity is presented to me again, I’m going to make every second count, there’s no doubt about it.”

“You’ve already won battles no one ever thought you could overcome.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly, reminding him of his bravery and resilience, as Hunter played with the cross necklace dangling around his neck. “— you need to remember that your worth is not defined by an injury, your an incredible footballer and I’m not just saying that because I’m entitled to, me and Hunter love you, we’re insanely proud of you, we always will be.”

Little Hunter looked between the two of you with sparkling eyes filled with admiration, and that when was Harry realised the he had a family that loved him unconditionally.

The hotel restaurant emanated an atmosphere you could only describe as tranquil as you sat at a table eating lunch with Hunter, Anne and Gemma.

Other family members from the team were also in the restaurant, when you were entering you had waved to Jack Grealish’s mum and dad, had a small conversation with Erling Haaland girlfriend and ruffled Phil Foden’s son's hair.

Little Hunter sat comfortable in his stroller after he refused to sit in a high chair, he was staring at his surroundings with curiosity filled eyes.

As your eyes glanced down at the menu, the three of us women engaged in a delightful conversation, halfway through, you spotted your son reaching towards the table where the basket of bread was located.

“Are you getting hungry, sweet boy?” You asked, leaning forward in your seat slightly so that you could meet his gaze. “— our food is going to be here soon, don’t worry, angel baby.”

Hunter’s face scrunched up slightly and he threw his head back with a small whine, his toddler babble mixed with his gestures, making it clear that he wanted to be part of the dining experience.

Harry’s sister, Gemma, chuckled, her eyes showing clear signs of amusement. “He seems to be quite the food enthusiast, takes after H.”

“Oh one hundred percent,” Anne, Harry’s mother, agreed, letting out a small chuckle. “He’s certainly inherited his fathers love for good food.”

Understanding your son's eagerness to join the table, you unfastened the stroller straps and carefully lifted him out. He squirmed with excitement, his chubby legs kicking in anticipation as he settled into a high chair beside you.

"Now you can see all the delicious dishes, just like us!" You exclaimed, placing a colourful bib around your son's neck. "You're officially part of the lunchtime feast."

Our son's face lit up with glee, his wide eyes scanning the table, eagerly awaiting the culinary delights. He pointed at the plates, naming the different foods as best he could, his baby gibberish filling the air.

As your meals arrived, a symphony of mouth watering aromas filled the air, and your taste buds tingled with anticipation. The three of you savoured each bite, sharing anecdotes and laughter, while Hunter observed intently, his eyes fixed on the delectable dishes.

"I think he wants to try everything," Anne said, chuckling as she noticed her grandson's animated gestures.

Gemma reached over and playfully offered a spoonful of mashed potatoes to her nephew.

"Here you go, little food critic," she said, grinning. "Tell us what you think."

Hunter’s eyes widened, and he eagerly accepted the spoon, tasting the creamy potatoes. His face lit up with delight, and he clapped his hands, a clear sign of his approval.

"He definitely has his father's discerning palate," You mused, exchanging knowing glances with the two women you called family.

As you continued your feast, your son became an active participant in the lunchtime conversation. His babbling intermingled with your dialogue, adding an innocent charm to the atmosphere.

Gemma once again leaned closer to your son, her voice filled with affection. "Tell us, little one, what do you think of this restaurant? Is it worthy of a future family gathering?"

Hunter responded with an enthusiastic nod, his face beaming with joy. His tiny hands clapped, as if applauding the notion of future family celebrations in this very place.

“So how’s Harry feeling about the final tonight?” Anne asked, regarding her son as she leaned forward ever so slightly.

A small smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you contemplated her question and thought about an answer. “— he’s definitely feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.”

“He’s been training diligently for this moment his whole life,” Gemma added, a touch of pride evident in the way she spoke about her younger brother. “It’s such a significant match for him, for the whole team even.”

“He’s eager to get on the pitch and give it his all,” You nodded in agreement, your heart swelling with admiration. “But the weight of the final definitely comes with its fair share of pressure.”

“Tell him that we’re going to be in the crowd and supporting him.” Anne told you.

You knew for a fact when you had a chance to tell this to Harry he would feel a lot better then he would be, knowing his mother and sister were backing him was all he really wanted.

“Of course,” A warm smile spread across your face, you were touched by her words. “I'll definitely tell him his biggest fans are rooting for him.”

Leaning down to look at your son who was sitting in his high chair with mashed up avocado lingering on his hands, you spoke to him, wanting to involve him in the conversation. “—Daddy has a very important football match tonight, he’s going to make us all proud, isn't he?”

Elijah’s face lit up with a radiant smile, his tiny hands clapping together in excitement.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with adoration for the father he idolised.

Anne chuckled warmly, her eyes gleaming with affection. "He knows, doesn't he? Even at his young age, he understands the significance."

You nodded, a sense of pride swelling within your chest. "Children have an incredible intuition, They can sense the love and anticipation that surrounds them."

As the early evening settled in Turkey, you led Hunter to the en-suite bathroom located in your hotel room, his hand holding onto yours as he held his light blue baby blanket in his hand.

His blanket was a present that Anne had knitted him when he was first born and he still to this day went everywhere with it.

Bath time was definitely one of Hunter’s favourite times of the day. He liked it even more when Harry would be the one bathing him, but he was often at training so he never really got the chance to.

The bath was already filled up, bubbles resting on the top of it and a few rubber duckies and other bath toys floating in the water.

"Are you ready for a fun bath, angel baby?" You asked, lifting him into the tub filled with warm, bubbly water. "We need to get all squeaky clean before the game!"

Your son giggled, splashing the water with delight, his tiny hands reaching out for his favourite bath toys. As you gently washed him, the two of you engaged in playful banter, his infectious laughter filling the room.

His laugh sounded so much like his fathers.

“Mama,” Hunter gained your attention. “— quack, quack!”

You nodded in encouragement as he presented you with the rubber duck he was holding. “Yeah a ducky does go quack quack, you're such a clever little boy.”

About thirty seconds later, the two year old seemed to get bored of the duck he was playing with and threw it back down in the water, and that was when you got the perfect opportunity to put some bath wash on a sponge and clean over his petite body.

Hunter squirmed a little bit and tried to wiggle away from you but you were quicker and knew his movements like the back of your hand and held him softly in place.

Once he was out of the bath and dried off, you decided to take him into the main area of the hotel room where you grabbed a miniature sized jersey out of his suitcase.

“Alright, arms up, angel baby.” You held the shirt in your hands and slipped the shirt over his head smoothly.

Once the shirt was situated on his body, you smoothed down his brown curls that had become slightly dishevelled due to the friction of the shirt.

He was clad in a Manchester City shirt with the shirts, socks and toddler football boots.

Instead of having his name on the back, he had ‘𝙳𝙰𝙳𝙳𝚈’ and number ‘𝟷𝟽’ on the back of it.

Once you had gotten Hunter ready, you decided to take a shower yourself, the two year old followed you into the bathroom.

As the warm water cascaded over your body, you took a moment to relax, the sound of rushing water creating a serene backdrop. Your son, perched on the bathroom floor, watched with curiosity as you applied a gentle face cleanser and let the steam envelop you.

With the shower complete, you stepped out onto the bath mat, a towel wrapped around your body. Your son clapped his hands in approval, appreciating the simplicity of the post-shower routine.

"Now it's time for mommy to get ready," You explained, brushing your damp hair and reaching for your makeup bag. "We want to look our best when we cheer for Daddy!"

Hunter observed attentively, his big eyes studying your every move.

"What's that, Mommy?" he asked, pointing to the makeup brushes.

You chuckled softly, giving him a gentle explanation.

"This is called makeup, sweetheart. It helps enhance our natural beauty," You replied, dabbing a bit of foundation onto your skin.

As you continued applying makeup, your son's curiosity grew. He mimicked your actions, using his fingers to pretend to apply his own makeup, a charming sight that filled your heart with warmth.

After finishing your makeup, you turned to your suitcase, selecting a Manchester City shirt of your own with ‘𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝟷𝟽’ on the back of its.

Tour son toddled over, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"We’re matching, Mommy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with innocence and adoration.

You scooped him up into your arms, holding him close.

"Thank you, my love. Now we're both ready to cheer for Daddy," you replied, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

As you sat in the stands of the Atatürk Olympic Stadium, surrounded by fellow Manchester City supporters and in a box with the family members for the team members, your heart was pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Harry was about to showcase his skills on the grand stage.

Beside you were his mother, Anne, and his sister, Gemma, both filled with anticipation and pride.

Your two-year-old son was perched on your lap, his wide eyes filled with wonder as he took in the electric atmosphere. The noise from the roaring crowd seemed to mesmerise him, but as the game kicked off, it wasn't long before the excitement overwhelmed his little body. Hunter's eyelids grew heavy, and he soon succumbed to the exhaustion of the day, drifting into a peaceful slumber.

"He's out like a light," Anne chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "It's quite a spectacle, isn't it? I can hardly believe our Harry is here, playing in the final."

Gemma nodded, her eyes shining with pride. "He's worked so hard for this moment. It's incredible to see him on this stage. I'm so proud of him."

The match unfolded with breathtaking speed and intensity.

Manchester City displayed their trademark attacking prowess, weaving intricate passes and creating scoring opportunities. The crowd's excitement was infectious, and the chants of "City! City!" reverberated throughout the stadium.

Anne leaned closer, her voice filled with excitement. "Do you remember when Daniel used to kick a ball around in the backyard? He always dreamed of playing on a big stage like this. And now, here he is!"

That was true, when you first met Harry, he used to invite you to the park all the time and you would always be kicking a ball about with him, now he got to teach his son the same things he taught you.

A roar erupted from the crowd as Manchester City came close to scoring.

Gemma jumped to her feet, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Come on! Score that goal!"

As the game progressed, the tension mounted. The opposing team proved to be a formidable adversary, putting up a strong defence and launching swift counterattacks.

The match seemed like a true battle of titans, with both teams leaving everything on the field.

"He's playing brilliantly, isn't he?" You whispered to Anne, nodding toward your fiancé , who was skillfully manoeuvring through defenders.

Anne beamed, her eyes shimmering with pride. "He's always had that talent, that special something. It's as if he was born to play football. Look at him out there, giving it his all."

Suddenly, the referee blew the whistle for halftime. As the players retreated to the dressing room, you gently shifted Hunter's weight on your lap, careful not to wake him.

The buzz of excitement filled the air as we joined the other Manchester City family members near the tunnel, eager to offer our support and encouragement.

You watched as the man you loved emerged, sweat dripping down his face, but a determined glint in his eyes.

He approached were the four of you were standing, pressing a short kiss to your lips and mustering how much he loved you, you and him exchanged brief words of encouragement, his gratitude shining through.

He kissed Hunter's forehead gently, whispering, "Daddy's going to bring that trophy home for you, little man."

Back in your seats, the second half kicked off with renewed intensity.

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Manchester City pushed forward, relentlessly seeking that winning goal. The opposition fought back, with bone-crunching tackles and acrobatic saves from their goalkeeper.

With each near-miss and near-goal, your emotions soared and plummeted. You all held your breath with every shot, every corner, and every daring run. The tension was palpable, but you remained hopeful.

Suddenly, a collective gasp swept through the crowd as Manchester City was awarded a penalty.

Gemma grabbed your arm, her voice trembling with excitement. "This is it! H, can do this!"

There was no doubt within the squad that your Harry was the designated penalty taker for the team, he was a forward and The Manchester City manager Pep Guardiola had given Harry the responsibility for them.

This was his moment.

This was his time to shine.

The stadium fell into a hushed silence as Harry stepped up to take the penalty. His focus was unwavering as he placed the ball on the spot, the weight of the entire season resting on his shoulders. The opposing goalkeeper eyed him intently, trying to psych him out.

"Come on, Haz! You've got this!" You whispered, your voice filled with hope.

Gemma and Anne joined in, their voices merging with your own. "You've trained for this moment, Harry ! Show them what you're made of!"

You watched with bated breath as Harry took a deep breath, blocking out the noise around him.

He began his run-up, his strides purposeful and determined. The moment his foot made contact with the ball, it soared towards the goal, driven by the sheer force of his will.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the ball sail through the air, evading the outstretched hands of the goalkeeper. The net rippled as the ball found its rightful place, and the stadium erupted into a chorus of cheers, applause, and chants of victory.

"He did it! He scored!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with elation. Hunter stirred in my arms, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing the surge of joy around him.

Anne wiped away tears of joy, her voice trembling with pride. "That's our boy! He's done it!"

Gemma wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace, joining in the celebration. "I knew he had it in him. What a moment!"

Manchester City we’re one nil up.

Not only that, but your Harry had scored.

He had scored in a final.

After all the heartbreak that he endured in the last final back in 2021, he had scored and put his team one point ahead.

You were beyond proud of him.

As the game continued, Manchester City pressed on with newfound confidence. The energy of Harry’s goal had ignited the team, fueling their determination to secure the trophy.

They fought fiercely, defending against the opposing team's attacks and launching their own relentless assault.

With every minute that ticked by, your anticipation grew. The final whistle drew nearer, and the realisation that victory was within reach became palpable.

The stadium buzzed with excitement, as if the crowd could taste the impending triumph.

And then, as the final whistle pierced the air, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Manchester City had emerged as the victors of the Champions League final. Ecstasy washed over you as you witnessed Harry and his teammates embrace, their joy overflowing.

Hunter clapped his tiny hands, mirroring the celebration around him.

“Yay, Daddy!" he squealed, his eyes filled with innocent delight.

The three of you joined Hunter's applause, your voices joining the chorus of cheers reverberating throughout the stadium.

Tears of joy streamed down your faces as you reveled in this extraordinary moment, a memory etched in our hearts forever.

You Harry had won the Champions League for his team.

With tears of elation streaming down your face, the three of you including little Hunter joined the chorus of chants, shouting, "City! City!"

Your eyes never left the pitch once as you anxiously waited for the moment when your lover and his teammates would lift the trophy high above their heads.

You all watched as the opposing team collected there runners up medals before it was time for the winners.

On the field, the players formed a jubilant huddle, their faces beaming with triumph. Moments later, they made their way towards the presentation stage.

You and the family quickly descended the stairs, Hunter clinging onto your hip with his thumb in his mouth, eager to get as close as possible to the historic moment that was about to unfold.

The crowd surged forward, a sea of blue and white, as you found a spot near the front. Beside you, other family members and friends of the Manchester City players beamed with anticipation, their voices filled with excitement.

Anne squeezed my hand tightly. "This is it, dear. We're about to witness something incredible."

Gemma nodded with a wide grin. "I can't believe it's happening! Our brother, lifting the Champions League trophy!"

The roar of the crowd grew deafening as the players ascended the stage one by one.

Finally, Harry stepped forward, his face radiant with a mixture of pride and disbelief. The trophy glistened in the spotlight, a symbol of their hard-fought victory.

A hush fell over the stadium as the captain of Manchester City, wearing the armband proudly, lifted the trophy high into the air.

A surge of emotions coursed through your body, and you let out a cheer that blended with the cheers of thousands of fans around.

Anne leaned in, her voice filled with admiration. "Look at him, my boy, holding that trophy. It's a moment I'll cherish forever."

Gemma wiped away tears of joy, her voice filled with pride. "He did it! Haz did it! I couldn't be prouder!"

As the players celebrated, their triumphant shouts and laughter filled the air.

Harry turned towards the direction you were sitting in, his eyes finding yours in the sea of cheering faces.

A smile spread across his face, and you could see the overwhelming happiness in his eyes. With a wave, he acknowledged his family's presence, and your heart swelled with love for this incredible man.

"He did it, Mum! Harry did it!" You exclaimed, your voice choked with emotion.

Anne pulled you into a tight embrace, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, he did, dear. My son is a champion!"

Gemma joined our embrace, forming a circle of love and pride. "We always believed in him, didn't we? This is just the beginning of his greatness."

Carefully making your way through the jubilant crowd, you reached the edge of the field, where security personnel guided you towards a designated area for family members. Anne and Gemma were already there, their smiles as bright as the stadium lights.

Harry spotted the four of you from a distance, his eyes lighting up with delight.

Covered in sweat and mud, he hurried towards you, a mix of exhaustion and elation on his face. You gently put Hunter down, allowing him to take his first steps on the hallowed ground of the pitch.

"Daddy!" Hunter exclaimed, his little arms outstretched, his voice filled with excitement.

Harry scooped him up, holding him close. "There's my little champion! Daddy did it!"

Anne embraced you, tears of joy streaming down her face. "Look at them, dear. Our son and grandson, basking in this incredible moment."

Gemma joined in the embrace, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm so proud of him, sis. He's worked so hard for this."

As the celebrations continued around you, Harry held Hunter high in the air, their joyous laughter blending with the cheers of the crowd. The energy of the stadium seemed to infuse their bond, a testament to the incredible journey they had embarked on together.

"He's so proud of you, Harry," you whispered, your voice filled with love and admiration.

Harry nodded, his eyes shimmering with tears of happiness. "I couldn't have done it without you and Hunter by my side. You're my biggest supporters, my inspiration."

Hunter reached out, his tiny fingers brushing against his fathers cheek. "Daddy strong!"

Harry kissed Hunter's forehead, his voice filled with tenderness. "Yes, my little champion, Daddy is strong because of you."

At that moment, time seemed to stand still.

You were surrounded by a sea of jubilant supporters, but it felt as though it was just the five of you, locked in an embrace of love and pride. The Champions League trophy glimmered in the distance, a symbol of their collective victory.

As the team gathered for a celebratory photo, Harry held Hunter on his hip, their smiles mirroring one another.

You captured the moment with your phone, knowing that it would forever be etched in the family's history.

Lying in bed, the weight of the day finally beginning to lift from your tired bodies, your fiancé and you basked in the quiet afterglow of his triumphant victory in the Champions League. The room was dimly lit, and a soft sense of contentment enveloped us.

Harry propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and elation.

"What a game, love," he whispered, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief.

What a game indeed.

You reached out, gently brushing your fingers through his hair. "You were incredible, Harry. I'm so proud of you."

Proud was an understatement.

A small smile graced his lips as he turned to face you in the hotel bed. "I couldn't have done it without you and Hunter. You're my rocks, my biggest supporters."

You shifted closer, resting your head against his chest. "We'll always be here for you, Harry. You worked so hard for this moment."

He sighed, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "You know, love, after the final whistle, I wanted to celebrate with just you and Hunter. It's moments like these that I cherish the most."

So that explains why he decided not to celebrate with his team mates.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love. "I understand, Harry. It's about those intimate moments, the ones that remind you of what truly matters."

His gaze softened, his voice filled with vulnerability. "That penalty... I was so nervous, love. It felt like everything was riding on that one moment. But when the ball hit the back of the net, it was pure relief and joy."

You placed a gentle kiss on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your lips. "You did it, Harry. You seized the opportunity and made it count. It was a testament to your skill, your determination, and your unwavering belief in yourself."

He wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you closer. "Thank you, love. Your belief in me has always meant the world. You and Hunter are my greatest motivation.”

You snuggled in closer, finding comfort in his embrace. "We'll always be there, Harry. Through the highs and the lows, celebrating every victory and lifting you up in moments of doubt. You're our champion, on and off the pitch."

His voice grew softer as he spoke, his words carrying a sense of gratitude and reflection. "You know, love, throughout the game, when I looked up into the stands, seeing you and Hunter, your faces filled with love and support, it gave me an extra boost. It reminded me why I play this beautiful game, why I give it my all. It's for you and our little boy."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Harry's heartfelt words. "We'll always be your biggest fans, Harry. Seeing you out there, chasing your dreams, it fills our hearts with pride and joy."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, my beautiful fiancé . And our little Hunter, he's growing up surrounded by so much love and inspiration."

You nestled deeper into his embrace, feeling a surge of warmth and love envelop the two of you. "We're creating memories, Harry. Memories that Hunter will carry with him throughout his life. He'll look back on this moment, knowing that his dad is a champion, a man who followed his dreams and achieved greatness."

Harry's voice grew soft, his tone filled with a sense of wonder. "I never want to forget this feeling, lying here with you, relishing in our love and celebrating a victory. It's a moment frozen in time, one that I'll cherish forever."

You intertwined your fingers with his, savouring the connection you seemed to share. "We'll always have these moments, Harry.”

You shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the little bundle of joy nestled between you and your lover,. Hunter had fallen asleep during the celebration, his small body curled up against Harry's side.

Such a daddies boy.

Harry's eyes softened as he looked down at your sleeping son. "Look at him, love. Our little champion, exhausted from all the excitement."

You smiled, brushing a lock of hair away from Hunter's forehead. "He's been cheering for you the whole game. I think he used up all his energy celebrating your victory."

Harry chuckled softly, his hand gently stroking Hunter's back. "I'm glad he got to witness this. One day, he'll look back and know that he was here, part of this unforgettable moment."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside of your chest. "He's so lucky to have you as his role model, Harry. You're showing him what it means to work hard, to chase your dreams, and to never give up."

Harry's gaze met your own, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. "And you, love, you're the anchor that keeps us grounded. Your unwavering support and belief in me, in us, it means everything."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, enveloped in the warmth of your shared love. The room was filled with a sense of peacefulness and fulfillment, a testament to the journey you had traveled together.

As Hunter stirred in his sleep, Harry's voice broke the stillness. "You know, love, scoring that penalty... It was like a release of all the pressure, all the hard work coming to fruition. But what mattered most in that moment was knowing I had my family by my side."

You kissed Hunter's forehead, then leaned over to place a tender kiss on Harry's lips. "We'll always be by your side, Harry, through every triumph and every challenge. You make us proud every single day."

Harry's arms tightened around you and Hunter, pulling you into an embrace that felt like home. "I love you both more than words can express. Thank you for being my everything."

The room filled with a sense of love and gratitude, as the three of you lay there, a family united in celebration, reflection, and profound connection.

In that quiet moment, the two of you knew that this victory was not just Harry's, but your families as well, and together, you would continue to write the pages of your story, one filled with love, resilience, and the shared joy of chasing dreams and achieving greatness, as a family united on and off the pitch.

As you drifted off into a blissful slumber one thought lingered in your brain.

The love of your life was a Champions League Winner.

Your Harry, Your Winner.

[anjelicawrites]

In the wake of this ask and this other ask, what happens between Tom Bennett and his badass nurse once the war is over.

Pairing: Dommish!Nurse!Reader x subbish!Tom Bennett Warnings: mention of death, mention of nightmares, kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, mention of painful sex, overstimulation, mention of spanking.

NSFW and 18 + only please!

Once the military hospital you worked at was closed, you went back to Manchester, to your old civilian hospital, and life. You didn't know what to expect, surely not to feel so empty. Your friends, those who haven't been killed in the war, have tried to drag you along to the movies or to dances so that you could meet new people, namely those fun American soldiers still in England; you have tried, dolled yourself up and danced you feet off, even tried to flirt with some of the people you've met, to no avail. Ever since you stepped foot in your flat, you've been feeling like you're observing life through a glass wall: you're there but you're not, the people around you laugh and cry and fall in love and you're like the spectator of a play. For this reason you've taken to stay at home more, tending to your plants and reading books in the hope that you'd stop feeling like a guest in your own life.

You huff as you remove your gardening gloves and put them on the table: the roots of the plants have finally enough room in the newer pots and moving them next to the windows will help them grow. The bell rings and you whip your head around: you're not expecting anyone and the only person in the building who used to come and visit has recently passed away. You blow a stray hair off your nose and head towards the door, perhaps is your friend Bess who tries to drag you to the cinema, or maybe to the pub, at every chance she has, saying that you need some fresh air for your health.

"Hello love."

For a moment you don't recognize him, you were so used to see him in his hospital issued pajamas, or his uniform the day he was discharged back into military life, that his civilian clothes almost don't suit him.

"Tom? Tom Bennett?"

You're surprised to see him on your doorstep. You two have been writing to one another, letters that arrived late or not at all, his riddled with grammar mistakes, yours with your fast handwriting; when you knew the date of the closing of the hospital, you sent him your home address, not truly expecting him to keep on writing once the war ended, but you felt bad to deny him the chance.

You never thought he would show up, uninvited and unexpected.

"You look good." He drawls. "You too Tom." You can't help but smile. "Come in! Don't stay on the threshold!"

You head for the kitchen as he gingerly observes your small flat, all with potted plants and books everywhere.

"When did you ship back? And what are you doing here?"

You sense him hovering next to the kitchen door.

"I've just returned." You can sense his eyes raking down your body. "And you promised me a date, love."

You turn around and lean against the counter, your breast pushed out, eyebrow raised.

"The way I'm remembering it I didn't promise you anything, Tommy."

He advances towards you with a smirk on his lips.

"We both survived the war, haven't we? You said you'd let me take you out on a date if that happened."

He tries to crowd you against the counter and his scent attacks you, cigarettes and something wild you've never been able to recognize.

"So we did." You place a hand on the soft jumper he's wearing. "That needs a celebration."

He tries to get even closer to you but you're faster and manage to regain your freedom: as much as you are happy to see him, you're still the boss.

"The tea is in the cupboard near the window. If we're going out I need to get ready."

You take your time in dolling yourself up, choosing one of the best dresses you own and putting on more make up that what's usual when you go out with your friends. As you're getting ready, you hear Tom move around your space, trying to be as quiet as possible as he sips his tea.

There have been people who have tried to get to know you on a deeper lever, and you've always stopped them, with Tom, whenever he would ask questions, you never felt compelled to clam up; with him talking about yourself came natural and now that you can hear him walk around your living room, you don't feel the push to come out of your bedroom and chastise him. You don't know what's with Tom that makes you accept his antics and his curiosity, or why you were so happy to receive his letters, even littered as they were with grammar mistakes that made your skin crawl.

He stops on his tracks when he sees you, his mouth hangs open a little, his eyes rake up and down your body and you can see the wheels turning in his head.

"If I were you, I'd ponder on what's going to come out of my mouth."

Jesus, slipping back into the playful tone you used with him most of the times is so easy.

"The old uniform did you no justice." He says, after a beat.

Back at the military hospital he rarely had the chance to see you naked, he was always on his knees, eating you out as if you were his last meal. You two never had full intercourse and you were never in your civilian clothes, and now you've purportedly chosen a dress and brasserie that enhance whatever curves being on rations left you.

"Thank you. You look dapper yourself." You answer with a smile.

He was stunning in his sailor uniform and he is now in his clothes. You can see that the trousers and jumper are old, but they are well kept and enhance his long legs and wide shoulders; the way he smiles lets you know that he's well aware of the fact.

"Shall we go?" He asks, extending his hand. "Yes." You answer.

You remember when Tom had told you that dates with him were never boring, internally you had scoffed at that, but you have to change your mind as you two dash around town, without a destination, until you two find refuge in a pub when you are both too tired to walk around.

How you two manage to find a table and chairs is nothing short of a miracle, the place is packed with people of all ages, ready to celebrate and imagine a brighter future. You are sitting, waiting for Tom to come back with the beers, that you realize one thing: you don't feel like you're watching life from behind a glass wall. For the first time since you came back, the happiness bubbling in your chest is real, so is the smile you feel stretching your lips. All thanks to Tom.

After a pint, endless rounds of darts and an almost brawl with a group of drunken US soldiers, you and Tom are walking in the vague direction of your flat.

Tom has told you that his house was destroyed and that he was crashing at his sister's, at least temporarily, until something comes up.

"A friend of my dad offered me to take his job." He says, with an inflection in his voice you can't truly decipher. "Is it so bad?"

Tom doesn't look at you when he answers, he focuses his blue eyes on the stars dotting the sky over you two.

"After everything." His hand makes a wide gesture. "It feels anticlimactic."

You understand. You weren't in the line of fire, but the rhythm at the military hospital were faster, the stakes higher than the work you're doing now at your old post, and it feels surreal to go back to the person you were before. As if you hadn't seen countless young men die in pain, calling for their mothers, as if you don't wake up when the nightmares are too horrible.

"I suppose that's what is expected of all of us. Go back to our boring lives and live on."

He shrugs at your words.

"There isn't much to go back to." You can hear the strain in his voice and it breaks your heart. "Perhaps it's a chance to build it, a newer place to go back to." "Perhaps." He answers and is lost in his thoughts.

The last leg of your walk towards your flat is silent, the sounds of the people around you two fill in for the lack of conversation; everyone seems so happy and carefree, how come that you, and you reckon Tom as well, can't be as everyone else? Or maybe the rest of the world is better at pretending than the two of you.

The violent rain that pours over you two breaks the spell as you two run and laugh, poor Tom even tries to cover you two with his jacket, but risks to make you fall in the puddles that have already formed on the broken pavement. You two are drenched and try not to make too much of a racket as you climb upstairs to your flat, a couple of your neighbors wouldn't be too happy to see you take an unknown boy home.

The silence you two now share is filled with anticipation, all those sad thoughts gone, for the moment. Tom plasters himself behind you, the wet clothes you two are wearing make so much easier for you to feel the outline of his hard cock pressed against your arse.

"If I were you I'd behave Mr. Bennett." You whisper, barely stifling a giggle. "Or what will you do to me if I don't?" He growls in your ear.

You push your arse backwards, rubbing purportedly against him.

"You'd love a spanking too much for it to be a punishment. Perhaps I should ruin your orgasms, that had been fun!"

Tom mumbles something against your hair.

"What was that?" "It wasn't fun when you did that." He pouts. "It was for me and that's how usually how punishment work; if you like it, you'll never going to learn."

You two tumble inside the miniature hallway; you barely manage to lock the door, that Tom cages you against the wall and the ancient wallpaper you should have changed eons ago. Thanks to the moon illuminating the living room, you can see the fire burning in Tom's eyes, the way he bites his reddened lower lip makes your cunt quiver: you've missed talented mouth and realize only now.

"Let me kiss you." He moans as his eyes zeroed on your lips.

Even since you've ruined his orgasm as a punishment, he had wanted to kiss you, taste your lips, make you moan and you'd never let him.

"I think there's another set of lips that need you attention first."

Your hand finds the top of his head as he falls on his knees with a smirk: he's missed your taste and you have no idea how much.

His hands fly to the hem of your dress to bunch it around your hips to uncover the pretty panties and garter belt you're wearing, the silk is so soft under his fingers and your center already wet for him, that he moans at the thought of finally tasting you again after so long. Careful he unhooks your stockings from the small pegs and rolls them down your legs to then set them aside, he remembers how prissy you can be whenever he's being messy. Hungry he kisses your tummy, his tongue licks the salt of your skin and you laugh at how ticklish it feels; he grins when his lips meet your panties, his long fingers slowly push them down your legs, uncovering your already weeping center. He can't help himself, he licks your left tight, wet already with your essence, and he moans, wanton, needy.

With a cheeky grin he puts the panties in his pocket. You don't have the chance to chastise him, that his lips curl around your clit, sucking harshly, hungry for your taste as he is for water; two of his fingers breach you, hurriedly looking for that rough patch that makes your hips kick against his face. Like a desperate man he licks your clit, his tongue writes nonsense against your apex, in tandem with the thrusting of his fingers inside of you, as your muscles tighten around him and your whine your pleasure. You're drenched and he moans against you, his tongue now sweeps the whole of your cunt, his lips suck and kiss your labia until he finds your clit again and his teeth lightly nibble at the small bundle, before sucking it again. Your head bangs against the wall as pleasure zaps up and down your spine, your hips push against his face, your hands grab his hair to plaster him better against yourself; your almost scream when his tongue enters your, rigid and fast inside your wet walls, and his nose finds your clit, moving at the perfect angle. You whine and whine as both his tongue and finger fuck you, you feel the pleasure build as his tongue tries to lick your essence and his index pushes steadily against that rough patch inside of you in tandem with the way his nose moves against your clit.

Broken whines and moans spill from your lips when you come all over his face, and he keeps fucking you, prolonging the pleasure. You try to dislodge his face, but his lips are around your clit again, to suck harshly, deaf and blind to the way you keen and your body arches, desperate to stop the pleasure: he needs you to come again, needs to drink from you or he'll die. Pressure builds inside of you, your hips kick in his hold faster and faster, his lips suck your clit with as much strength as he can muster, and you come again, drenching his face.

He has to carry you on the bed, your legs tremble too much for you to walk there. With the utmost care he lays you there and finishes undressing you; unconsciously he licks his lips when your breasts are uncovered, your nipples pert and begging to be worshiped, like the rest of you. Hastily he undresses himself, proud of his erect cock under your hungry gaze, and leaves his clothes on a chair in the corner; he doesn't want to be spanked, not when he can finally have you fully, the way he's dreamed for so long.

You're burning with your own desire, your fingers find your center and slip inside, shallowly fucking your wet hole as you appreciate his strong body and tick cock. With a low growl Tom stalks towards you, until he can cage you under himself and your hand can wound around his erection to lay it between your drenched lips so that he can start moving against you, moaning at your warmth.

He needs to slip inside of you, his cock strains for your hole, but he has to wait for your permission, for you to tell him that he can take you and loose himself in your depths. He almost comes untouched when you order him to breach you, he has to focus on the designs on your bed sheets when his head is enveloped by your muscles and his cock is sucked in; he doesn't want to come like a horny teenager, he wants to pleasure you first, until you can't take it anymore.

"I've been... I've been dreaming of this, ah!" He babbles, almost chocking on his tongue when your cunt clenches midstroke. "Have you been touching yourself, pretty sailor? Imagining your hand was my cunt?"

The sultriness of your voice cuts through the haze of pleasure enveloping his brain, forcing him to stop his advance inside of you, or he'll come. His arms tremble with the effort to keep his weight and you use his weakness to turn you two around, straddling him, your cunt hungrily swallowing his cock: it has been a while and Tom is extremely well endowed.

As wet as you are, it's still difficult for your body to accept his invasion; the more you lower yourself, the painful it becomes to make sure he bottoms out. When a painful wail escapes his lips, Tom stops your descent with worry in his eyes.

"Am I hurting you?" "A bit, Tommy, but that's fine, I like it when it hurts."

Stubbornly you try to take more of him, your eyes clenched shut in pain.

"Yellow!"

You stop immediately and look into his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you."

You can see how afraid he is of maiming you and your heart skips a beat: all your previous partner were into pain as you were, or didn't care whether or not they were hurting you, either way none of them gave a damn about your well being, Tom is a first.

"Do you want to stop?"

Now you are as worried as he is: scarring him is not part of the plan. Tom is conflicted, your cunt feels like heaven around him, but he knows he's ticker than most, he's had girls refusing to have sex with him, because they were afraid of his cock. He'd do anything for you, but he'll never harm you.

"I don't want to hurt you." He says earnestly and his concern brings tears in your eyes.

Gently he turns your entwined bodies on the bed and slips out of you, his cock resting between your labia again.

"You're not hurting me, Tommy." Your hand cups his cheeks and he rubs against it like a cat. "I could see it in your face." "You're a lot Tommy, and I love it. My body just needs a moment to take you in fully."

His forehead finds yours as your fingers card through his hair, gently calming him; his breath slows down as his lips hover on yours and you close the distance.

His taste explodes in your mouth, cigarette and your own essence dance on your tongue as his slides inside your mouth, searching and seeking with renowned hunger.

"Let me take care of you." He says, breathless, when your lips disconnect. "Yes, Tommy." You moan back.

It's torment the way his cock slides between your labia, drenching himself in your honey, how your hole clenches around nothing with every push of his head against your engorged clit; you moan in the kiss and rub yourself against him, hungry for his cock.

It's with slow pushes and pulls that Tom breaches you again, his lips never leaving yours as he enters you, leisurely, making sure that's the reaction of your body that guide his advance, the moans that escape your interlocked lips his only map; when he enters you fully your body arches, lips leaving his when you whine like a lost animal.

"I did... Christ!" He groans. "Imagined your cunt, ah! This is better! Oh God!"

Your ankles interlock behind him, keeping him safe inside of you as he tries to reign his orgasm in: you two are coming together, when your cunt strangles his cock, or it's nothing at all.

He keeps kissing you as he starts moving, figures of eight that make you whine, your hips following his when he fucks you faster, his thrust shorter against your spot, your muscles pulsating around his erection, sucking him in when he tries to leave; you're wound so tight around him he can barely grind against you, and your clit, pleasure zapping up your spine like a lashing that makes you whine in the kiss, your nails scratching down his back as your hips follow his, feeling the immense pressure build inside yourself with every passing, his inarticulate sounds of pleasure spurring you on.

The fist of your cunt around his erection almost hurts when you come, taking him with you, drowning him in an abyss of pleasure.

You wake up in the middle of the night, not used to have someone sleep with you; usually you kick out your partners after they're done, not truly understanding the need to have them cuddle you after the deed is done. But Tom is another thing, he's not one of the many people you've shagged and forgotten, he's something else, something you can't name. You try to move in his embrace and feel his semi erect cock rub against your naked arse, you snuggle closer to him, not truly wanting to care about the future. You will need to name this, put it in its rightful place in your life; not tonight, though, when Tom is keeping you warm in a way anyone ever managed to do before.

[kayleighjennifer]

Jealousy (Leila Ouahabi x reader)

⚠️smut⚠️

You are out with Leila and the blue side of Manchester, celebrating Alann’s birthday. Despite playing for the reds, you get along with all her teammates pretty good, then quickly welcoming you as Leila introduced you to them when she joined City last summer.

She got many offers from clubs all around Europe but she only wanted to finally live in the same city as you after being long-distance for a year.

“And Y/N, when will you put on the prober Manchester tricot?” Lauren jokes. “I definitely think you need glasses.I’ve been playing for the right team since I am 17”. You went from Germany to England at the age of 17, leaving your family and friends behind but not regretting anything. In two years you have managed to achieve so much, being nominated as a Balon d’or winner at just 19.

Leila smiles at your interactions with her team mates and teasing you by putting her hand on your thigh.You don’t see her intention behind her action and simply run your hand over her arm, tracing her tattoos with your fingers.

“I think you would look really cute in blue” Leila joins Lauren and smirks at you. “Leila is right for once”. Vicky winks at you. Between all of Leila’s teammates, you get along with Vicky the best. You often hang out with her in your free time and Vicky often joins you and Leila going out.

Leila knows that you’re just friends and that you would never spent a minute thinking about cheating on her but she still feels how the jealousy rises in her body, every time you interact with Vicky.

She slips her hand further down, stopping just before your pussy. You rise your eyebrow at her and Leila smiles at you innocently. She loves teasing you in any way possible, so you’re well aware of the fact that it’s gonna be a very long evening.

And you’re right. Leila uses every given moment to tease you. Sometimes by “accidentally” touching your growing heat or biting her full lips and showing her dominance in little things, like ordering food for you or in general speaking for you. These tiny things may be invisible to the others but both of you know the affect it has on you.

“What got into you baby?” You ask Leila in a quiet moment, leaning more to her and showing of your deep neckline which is decorated by multiple necklaces which Leila gifted you over the last year. She visibly gulps but Leila is able to collect herself rather quickly. “Just showing you who you belong to and who’s only able to make you feel like this”. Just as she finishes her sentence, she presses her index finger at your click.

it takes you completely by surprise and you have to cover up your moan by a caught. “Wanna head to mine, so that you can show me how you can make me feel?”. You look up at her innocently and start grinding against her finger a little bit. “If you think you can handle it, then sure” She winks and you laugh at her cockiness. “Bet”.

You say your goodbyes to the others and quickly drive to your apartment. Leila teases you the whole ride long, touching herself while telling you,between her beautiful moans, that you need to focus on the road. You barely reach your room when Leila has you pressed against your wall and has your lips captured in a bruising kiss.

You tuck on her hair and push her even closer if it’s possible. “Please Leila” You moan out when she starts biting and licking your neck, leaving your favourite spot out. “I got media day tomorrow, so don’t leave any marks” You try to say between moans.

“You got makeup for that hermoso”. She moves back to your lips and puts her leg between yours. You grind on her leg and try to get any friction, being pretty sure that you’re already tripping.

“Please I need you so so much” You whine and tuck at her top. She breaks the kiss to remove both of your tops and moves to your breasts, leaving dark purple marks everywhere.

By now you’re a moaning mess, holding onto Leila for dear life. “What do you want Baby? Use your words” Leila demands, holding onto your waist.

“I need your fingers or your mouth. I don’t care, just make me come please!” You beg and she lifts you onto the bed, removing your trousers and your pantie. “Aw baby, you’re literally dripping just for me. Not for Vicky, only for me”. Leila smirks and suddenly you connect all the dots. “So you’re jealous of Vic-“ Leila interrupts you by placing her mouth directly on your clit.

You moan so loud, definitely waking Ona, your flatmate, up. “You’re mine, I don’t need to be jealous of anyone”. Leila just says and continues her assault on your clit. She harshly grabs your waist as you try to grind onto her to ease some of the pressure in your pussy.

“Yeah, I’m just yours Leila. Ah fuck, I need more”. You bend your back off the bed, which is Leila’s favourite sign. She adds two fingers, stretching you out so nicely.

“You’re so fucking tight Y/N”. She breaths against your core, pushing you even closer to the edge. Her grip tightens around your waist, definitely leaving bruises there aswell. “Fuck Leila, I need to come so badly”. You nearly scream by now and Leila gives you the go, letting you ride out your orgasm by leaving hickeys over your hips and continues hitting your G-spot.

You grab onto her wrist when it gets too much to handle and Leila quickly stops. “You did so great my love”. She gives you a loving kiss. You deepen it and turn both of you over, so that you’re on top of Leila. “Thank you and let me show you, how much I love you.” Leila just nods, her breath being taken away by your beauty, even after being completely spend.

You leave soft kisses all over her face. “God I love your smile so much”. You whisper against her lips and start kissing along her smile lines. You move to her neck. “And I love your neck. I always want to leave love bites all over it”. You do as you said and leave a few, but subtle hickeys all over her neck.

You take the necklace with your first letter, which you got her for her birthday,(it was meant as a joke but she still wears it every single day) between your teeth and you look up to her. She quietly moans and bites her lip. “I love how my first letter decorated your cleavage so beautifully, showing everyone that you’re mine”. You suck a deep hickey behind the letter.

Then you move to her tits. “And I fucking love your tits. They’re so perfect just like you. I love how they perk up when I just quickly touch them and how sensitive they are.” Leila moans when you blow cold air on them.

You capture on of them between your lips, causing Leila to loudly moan. When you feel like you’ve worked her up enough, you move to her abs, kissing along the visible lines. “Every time I see your stomach, it drives me wild. I want to run my tongue along it and don’t get me started on your v-line”. You moan out and run your tongue along it. “Fuck Y/N, please stop teasing”. Leila moans and you grin.

You decide to be nice and remove her jeans plus her pantie. “God you’re so wet”. You admire her pussy. “Just for you Y/N, so please do something against it.” You do her begging mercy and start eating her out.

She quickly becomes a moaning mess and you enjoy every second of it. She tastes so delicious. If you could, you would spend every minute like this. And that’s what you’re trying to show her.

It works as Leila is quickly coming. You lick all of her juice and continue eating her out until she comes for the second time. “Oh god Y/N, what are you doing to me?” She pants out.

You smirk at her and move to her face again, letting her taste herself on your lips.

“I can ask you the same question, I love you so freaking much.” She grins at you and you tiredly cuddle into Leila. “I love you too mi querida”. You smile at the spanish nickname but the two of you quickly fall asleep.

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Thirteen

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Very strong language, NSFW themes (kinda smutty?), depictions of war, World on Fire spoilers

Word Count: 4.1K

Notes: The banner is absolute potato quality, soz. We’re gonna say hello to the Vaughns, but we’re with Tom for the majority of this chapter. If you’ve seen the series, you know what’s happening. Buckle in, my dudes.

Late May, 1940

“Up you get, Dadda.”

A hand tucked under each of Fergal’s arms and hoisted him from the pew. He looked blindly at the faces around him. Each solemn and unrecognisable through his grief. The only faces he knew where those of his daughters. Cora and Bess holding him upright, Dot rubbing his back as they walked him out of the church. Beautiful spectres in their mourning veils, the girls moved through the congregation, shook hands with the priest and entered the piercing sun of the June day.

A few of their friends and neighbours were gathered at the church steps. There was Dennis Warley, Mrs Mason and her children, Mrs O’Connell and Mrs Flaherty. Queenie Warren, Roberta, Hattie and Jude. Leading the sea of black was Lois, her bump growing by the day, and Douglas.

“Could you hold this?” Bess whispered to Lois, who nodded and took the order of service from her hands. At the bottom of the page, after the service readings and the parish notices, was a small note. Mass dedicated to the memory of Albert Michael Vaughn. Together, the group formed a procession that made its slow journey from the church to the Vaughn’s home. Occasionally, Fergal wobbled on his feet as a new wave of grief wracked him, and the procession paused as his daughters steadied him. A few people meandered into their own homes after kissing the girls and shaking Fergal’s hand. Mrs O’Connell and Mrs Flaherty brought round a selection of sandwiches for the mourners, and Queenie set about making tea. Douglas led Fergal to his armchair and set him down, while Lois cradled a hysterical Dot. Cora made her way to them, and along with Lois, held her shaking little sister.

“Bess, I’m off,” Queenie’s voice was quiet as she handed Bess a cup of tea. She tried to keep her voice measured as she spoke again. “He really was the best of them.” Bess removed her veil and nodded. Queenie kissed her on the cheek and departed. Roberta, Hattie and Jude were next to say their goodbyes, with promises to visit Bess in Manchester next weekend. Soon, the house was occupied by just the Vaughns and the Bennetts. Cora saw Dot to bed, then set about scrubbing the china more vigorously than Bess had ever seen, Lois helped her put away the remnants of the dreadful day. Douglas spent a silent hour with Fergal by the unlit hearth, holding his hand and sharing a glass of whisky. Outside on the front step, Bess sat alone, gazing at Tom’s photograph. When the front door opened, she hastily tucked it into the belt of her dress. Someone settled on the step beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Bess inhaled the familiar smell of laundry detergent and relaxed into the arms she had become so used to. She and Douglas sat there a while, neither speaking for there was nothing to say. Eventually, Bess whispered into the descending night.

“I just want to hold him.” With Albie’s body buried somewhere in France, the Vaughns had been unable to hold a funeral. Unable to see their beloved Albie one last time. The string had been cut, and Bess’ kindred spirit was no more. Beneath Douglas’ arms, she began to shake. “I feel untethered,” she choked out. “Like I’m going to float away.” For what felt like hours, Bess cried and cried into Douglas’ shoulder. He said nothing, merely stroked her hair and let her wail. When her sobs eased into hiccupping breaths, he took her face in his hands.

“You’ll make it through, I promise.” He kissed the top of her head, opened the front door and called for his daughter.

“Douglas,” Bess’ voice cracked with the effort of using it. “I have some of Albie’s old clothes. I wondered if you might take them for Jan, next time you visit the Chase’s?” The older man nodded with a sad smile.

“I’ll be round in the morning.”

Lois clung to her father’s arm as they crossed the road, and when they had shut the door to their own home, Bess retrieved the photograph from her belt. It was real. Albie was the first of them to die. How many more would there be now? It had started. She kissed Tom’s face and prayed. Keep him safe, keep him safe, keep him safe.

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“God help the Jerries if that’s the look you give ‘em.” Norman laughed as he watched Tom read over his post. “I wouldn’t cross you in a month of Sundays.”

“I have a date with a solider from the infirmary. He’s called James. I think we’re going to the Palais. How are you managing with only men aboard ship?”

Tom’s bottom lip quirked with annoyance. “How long until the auxiliaries leave?”

“About an hour, I reckon.”

Tom nodded with resolve. That evening, the HMS Keith was to join Operation Dynamo in the attempt evacuate Dunkirk. In dock reloading with fuel and supplies for the men they to rescue, most sailors aboard were taking a few hours of shore leave before entering the fray. The air had been tense all morning. The resulting lack of crew meant that when Tom entered the mess hall, he found it empty. He took Bess’ photograph from its permanent residence in his pocket and placed it on the table with his paper and pen. This letter better be a good one.

But when he tried to write, nothing came. He stared at the blank paper, unable to escape the image of Bess and this James man dancing at the Palais. Tom smirked as an idea popped into his head. Lighting a cigarette, he picked up the pen and with a laugh, began to write.

Bess,

I know what you’re trying to do. Telling me all about your little date in the hopes it will make me jealous. Would it make you smile, love, if I told you it was working?

Tell me more about James, love. Is he tall? Is he handsome? Does he know you like I do? Does he know that you hate wearing pink because it clashes with your hair? That you sneak fudge from the picture house into your pocket? That you collected feathers and eggshells when you were small, or that you write secret letters to a criminal like me?

Can he read you like I can? Does he know that when you don’t wear make up, or curl your hair, you feel defiant? Or that when you’re angry, your eyebrows straighten? That you only smoke as a means to avoid speaking? That when your eyes darken and those perfect lips of yours part, when you blush and it spreads right across your nose, it means you desperately want fucking?

Can he satisfy you like I can, Bess? What’s it like when he holds you? Are his fingers long? Have they been inside you yet? I know I could do it, Bess, if you’d let me. I heard the way your breath hitched every time I touched you. I watched your chest heave every time I got close. I see the way you watch me, the way you’ve always watched me.

God, what I’d give. You’re all I think about. At night, when the other men are sleeping, or else touching their cocks and pretending no-one’s noticed, it’s you I see when I close my eyes. I replay the day I watched you changing behind the screen each night. The outline of your body. Damn your family for coming home. What would have happened, do you think? After I had pinned your body beneath mine? If I try, I can hear you moaning my name. I can feel your cunt against me. If your family hadn’t come home I’d have ravished you, Bess. I’d have fucked you with my mouth, my fingers, my cock. Watched you take me. Watched unflappable Bess Vaughn come undone by my body. Made love to you until your mind could think of nothing but me. Can this James boy do that for you? Can he satisfy you like I could?

I can’t take it anymore. I can’t kiss another woman and pretend it’s you, calling them by your name. I don’t want to imagine anymore what those nimble fingers of your can do. I’m tired of using my hand and pretending it’s your mouth around me. I’m mad with wanting you, love. I’ll kill any man that gets in my way to you. You’re mine, Bess. You tell James that.

Yours, hungrily,

Tom.

He stopped writing and reread the letter. His cigarette had dwindled to a stub and when he reached the end of the letter, Tom barked a laugh. At least that was out of his system. Perhaps, one day, he would give it to her. He folded the page, placed it in an envelope and wrote, simply, Bess on the front before tucking it into his pocket. When Tom took out the second page of paper, he hung his head and thought. Really thought, before placing the pen upon the page.

Dear Bess,

Thank you for the letter. Please, if it upsets you, don’t write anymore. Your letters are the best thing that happens to me at sea, but I couldn’t bear being the cause of more pain.

I’m sure you’ll have all heard back home, but we’re starting the evacuation tonight. I won’t lie to you Bess, I’m terrified. Thousands all herded onto one beach with us to rescue them. Feel like sitting ducks. We’re going into something big, Bess, and I’m scared I won’t come back.

If I don’t, know that I think of you every second of every day. And if this James fella doesn’t treat you well then I’ll haunt him until his dying day. I hope he makes you happy, Bess.

If I do come back, I’ll spend the rest of my days regretting what I did to you but know this, I will make it right. I adore you.

Think of me, as I’m forever thinking of you,

Yours, always,

Tom.

Tom rubbed the pen between his fingers. That was it. That was all. Writing Bess’ name and address on the envelope, he hurried from the mess hall back to the cabin he shared with Norman.

“Gonna get a last look at land,” he said as he opened the door and placed the two letters he had written on his bunk, one addressed and one not. “You coming?”

“Last look? You’re optimistic.” Norman lay on his side and watched Tom don his cap. “You’re alright, gonna stay here and get some rest before it all.”

“Right you are.” With that, Tom made his way to the __ deck and watched shadows of cloud drift across the French docks. Two minutes after he departed, a ratings officer knocked on the cabin door. Norman answered.

“Anything for the post before we leave?”

“Just these,” Norman grabbed a letter of his own, addressed to his parents, and the two from Tom’s bunk. “Hang on, he hasn’t addressed this one.” Hastily, he copied Bess’ address from one envelope to the other and handed them to the man at the door, who looked at the name.

“Two letters to one girl?” He whistled lowly. “She must be a special one.”

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

Despite the calm water and pastel sky, by the eve of the evacuation’s second day, Tom’s agitation was reaching fever pitch. Arms resting on his knees, he watched the point behind Norman’s head where the horizon burned. Dunkirk. Tom was in half a mind to wrestle a paddle from an oarsman, just to give himself something to do. Their lifeboat, capacity 40, made its slow way back to the beach and the 300,000 people waiting to be rescued. From their position a mile off the coast, the evacuees looked like ants fleeing a magnify glass.

“What’s on your mind, Tom?” Norman asked. His back was to the beach and Tom envied his brief position of ignorance.

“How come our ship is called HMS Keith?” Tom tried to sound light, breezy. “Keith isn’t the name you give a fighting ship.”

“You what?”

“All the other ships are called Atlantic, Calcutta, Dreadnought, and we get Keith.”

Norman shrugged. “Well? What’s the problem with that?”

Tom leant down to fix his shoe in order to give his hands focus. “Well, Keith was always the name of the kid who wore a balaclava till April, candlewax snot hanging from his nose.” He thought irresistibly of Frank Smith and Norman laughed at him. The sound lightened Tom’s mood and he continued the jest. “How many trips back and forth have we done? Twenty? And not one tip all day-”

“Would you like it better if it was HMS Tom?”

“If it was called HMS Tom it wouldn’t be here, mate. It’d be cruising round the brothels of the Med.” Tom’s arms came to rest once more on his knees, head oscillating a little as he fixed his mouth in a smirk. Norman thought it made him look cocky, like he was gearing up for a fight. Tom knew that it was a nervous twitch, something to make himself seem bigger when danger loomed. He glanced behind Norman again. They were getting closer. Black smoke billowed in the town beyond the beach and the fearful shouting of the stranded filled the air like braying horses.

By the time they made it to the beach, Tom’s agitation had turned itself into reassurances to the soldiers and an eagerness to be as far away from France as possible. So close to England, it was almost as if he could smell home over the sea and gunpowder.

“Move it lads! Fritz is due to call again soon and he won’t be selling ice creams. You’ve had all day to sunbathe, just get on board, let’s go home, eh?” He called to the queue of soldiers shuffling into the shallow water. They looked like the living dead. Behind him, Norman and the oarsmen hauled them into the lifeboat. “Go on, here you are pal.” Tom gripped the shoulder of a man as he stumbled on the unstable ground. A young man in civilian clothing took his chance and pushed forward through the queue. Tom spotted him in an instant, pushing the man back as he tried to board the boat. “No chance, get to the back and wait your turn.”

“You can’t stop me,” The man looked like a ghost, eyes rimmed with purple circles and face ashen with tiredness. He wasn’t French, though from where, Tom didn’t know. The stranger lunged forwards.

“Oh yeah?” Tom pulled a pistol from the waistband of his uniform. “I can with this. Jerry’s only gone for his tea break. If we don’t get away on this tide, we get sunk, so killing you’s a small price if it stops all these fellas buying it too.” Tom hated this. He’d let him on if he could, but thousands of angry soldiers would end him before the Germans if he did. What’s more, with a tiny boat full of scared and exhausted men, he needed to assert that he was in control. It was chaos enough on the beach, God help them if it spilled over into the rescue boats.

The man stumbled forward and spoke lowly, pressing his chest into the gun. “I’m ready for death.”

“We’re all fucking ready for death, mate.” Tom scoffed and indicated at the men surrounding him. “We’re all ready for death.” Once more, he pointed the gun towards the man.

“SHOOT ME!” The man screamed. Before the war, it would have stunned Tom, but he’d seen too much to know that death was a welcome choice by many now. In the dark of the night, he thought about it too. Tom watched all hope fade from the man’s eyes and was about to take his hand when another solider grabbed the stranger by the shoulders.

“Get out of the way,” he growled, pulling him backwards until he fell into the shallows. “Get back and fight for your country, you Polish bugger.”

Thankful, Tom continued calling to the soldiers. “Right, behave lads. Any more hassle and we’ll be going home with a boat half full, alright? Now come on. I’ll put the kettle on for us, eh? Let’s go home.”

“You won’t want any of his tea,” Norman shouted as he pulled another man into the lifeboat. “Bath water tastes better.” A few soldiers let out half-hearted laughs, which for Tom and Norman, was an achievement in itself. They smiled at each other a moment and, there with his friend, Tom forgot about the war around them. For that second, they were just two friends on the beach at sunset. The sounds of war had faded.

A muted thud carried across the expanse of beach. Then another. The dull thumping of metal and rock. From the clouds above, Luftwaffe descended. Two from the east and two from the west, they wailed their battle cry. Sand soared into the air, each mound rising closer and closer to the boat. Tom froze. He looked around. Men were scrambling towards the boats, back up the beach towards the town. Debris from the already bombed out boats and trucks ripped through the air, through bodies. Like dominos men fell, or else were blown into the sky. Was Tom ready to die? If I don’t come back, know that I think of you every second of every day. He saw her. Sat at the piano. At the dancehall, tucked under the blankets and sat on the front step. On the carousel, hair aflame under the lights.

Boom, boom, BOOM. A missile struck the lifeboat nearest Tom’s own, and in a flash, he ran. From all sides, metal, sand and viscera attacked his senses. Weaving around scattered bodies, Tom ran as his eyes scanned the beach. What he was searching for, he didn’t know. Somewhere to hide? Someone sent to rescue the rescuers? The juddering of gunfire sounded and screams rent the air. Keep weaving. Bullets flew past his ears and he ducked. Through the mist of sand, he saw the metal hull of an overturned truck. If he could just reach it, he could clammer inside or hide beneath it. Twenty metres. His legs were burning. Ten metres. Next to him a man dropped. Five metres. Hot pain ripped through his shoulder. He could smell the burning of his own flesh. Taste gunpowder and iron on the air. The force of the bullet caused Tom to stagger and, breathless with pain, he collapsed.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

The clattering of the ceramic pan rang echoed throughout the ward, and Bess fell into a seat by the soldier’s bed.

“What is the meaning of this?” The matron hissed as she stormed towards Bess. Joan and Helen looked at her from their nearby stations. Since the death of her brother, Bess’ ‘funny turns’, as Joan and Helen called them, increased but she had always managed to push through until now.

“I’m sorry, Sister Stern,” Bess knelt from the chair and fumbled to pick up the equipment. “I’m sorry-” A pair of gleaming boots entered her vision and she looked up. Sister Stern was staring at her down the bridge of her pinched nose.

“You’re white as a sheet,” the matron said, placing a hand on Bess’ forehead. “And burning up. Go home at once. You’re no use to us here in this state.”

“Yes, Sister.” Bess bowed her head, not looking at her friends as hurried away. Bess didn’t go home as the matron demanded. Instead, she boarded the first bus for Longsight. Something told her she had to get to the Bennett’s.

She heard him before she saw him. From beyond the turning to their street, Bess heard Douglas’ shouts through the fog.

“Anybody in?” There was the unmistakable thundering of fists on doors. “Hey? Are you in? Come on! Help me-” Bess’ feet hurried along the cobbles. More banging. “Hello? Are you in? Help me, help me, help me. Come on!” By the time she made out the man amongst the fog he was trembling, hands over his eyes and cowering on the pavement. Bess ran to him just as he slumped onto the floor.

“Douglas, ssh, come on.” She struggled to lift him. “Let’s get you inside.” Two more figures arrived through the haze.

“Dad?” Lois and Connie rushed forward and placed their arms beneath Douglas’.

“Help me get him in,” Bess said to Connie. “Lois, you get the door.” It was half an hour before the three women managed to get Douglas settled, and even then he muttered under his breath and stared into nothingness.

“I know it. I can feel it in here,” Douglas indicated to his chest, and Bess looked at the kitchen table scattered with newspapers and a magnifying glass. Another chip broke away from her heart.

“Any real news? Not one of your “feelings” like Gypsy Rose Lee on Blackpool Prom.” Lois said gently. She was just like Cora, and Bess gazed at her in awe. Pregnant and alone to look after her father, Lois Bennett was extraordinary.

“If anything’s happened to him, I made him go,” Douglas mumbled. “I told him to go. I…I made him-”

“Dad,” Lois tried to reason with him.

“I’m no dad. I’m no father. No father to you. No father to him. I’m no father, me.” Connie and Bess looked at each other as Douglas continued to spiral. “We just have to wait now.” He stood abruptly and made his way to the wireless.

“They’re not going to announce anything on the radio, are they? Not just like that-” Bess heard the plea in Lois’ voice but she was cut off by her father.

“Shut up, will you?”

Bess whispered to Connie. “I’ll back in a minute.” Connie merely nodded and watched Bess speed across the road. Dadda would know what to do. Wiping tears from her eyes, she opened the door to her childhood home.

“Dadda?” She called out. “Dadda?” No-one replied. Deflated, Bess realised that everyone would still be at work. Just as she turned to leave the house, a thud came from above her head. Tentatively, nervously, Bess made her way upstairs. “Hello?” The door to her old bedroom was open. Nothing. No-one. Across the hall, the door to her father’s room was ajar. “Dadda?” She pushed it open. Face down, drool spilling from his mouth, Fergal was asleep on the bed. One arm was flung out across the bed and beneath the hand that lolled over the frame, an empty whisky bottle lay on its side on the floor. She stared at his pitiful state for a moment, then her eyes drifted to the empty bed next to the door. Set out, perfectly folded atop the quilt, was a jumper and pair of moleskin trousers. A framed photo was propped on the pillow, and Albie smiled gently at her from the faded image. Bess wanted to scream. Instead, she stepped from the room and slammed the door to her old bedroom. She heard her father grunt. Good. She couldn’t care less about his sore head and sorry state. Sitting on the bed she once shared with Dot, Bess opened her purse and took out the photograph she always carried with her.

“Don’t you dare be dead, Tom Bennett. Don’t you dare.”

Notes: Woof. Writing this has been a rollercoaster. Just a little note again to say that I replaced Fred in the episode with lovely Norman. Poor Grzegorz too. I’m hoping we’ll see him and Tom interact again in WoF series 2, considering Grzegorz is now in Manchester. Also, the letter situation is very obviously inspired by Atonement, which incidentally has one of the best Dunkirk scenes in cinema!! Next chapter soon!

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring

[swayziiwriter]

Trench coat | Erling Haaland

summary: Manchester city’s win of the premier league title puts Erling in a spectacular position for a trench coat visit.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

NOTE: as a devoted Arsenal fan writing this chapter stung just a bit…

City had won the league, it was a bittersweet day for you as an Arsenal fan. Though you were immensely happy for Erling a part of your heart stung with pain at how close your team came. You decided that the best way to clear your mind of these feelings was to take them out on Erling, specifically during the celebratory surprise you had offered him before the game against Chelsea took place.

I'll come over to your place tonight by 11, after all the celebrations are over

Sounds good, come down to the field I want you down here with me

You smiled at his response, turning off your phone before making your way down to the pitch to celebrate Erling.

•

You reached into your purse, pulling out your key to Erling's place. Shuffling with your outfit and fixing your hair before stepping inside. The lights to the entire first floor were off, the large house surround in darkness. You took this as a sign that he was upstairs like you had asked him to be. You made your way up the stairs to his bedroom, a dim light coming from his room. The sound of your red bottoms clicking against the tiled floor let Erling know you were here just as promised. He turned around to find you leaning against the doors to his master bedroom, a soft smile plastered on your face.

It wasn't until Erling brought his eyes down your body that he finally understood why you had wanted the lights either off or dimmed. Your light brown trench coat illuminated in the soft light, your smooth legs on full display. You turned around closing the doors before slowly making your way to Erling.

You strutted towards him, your heels clicking with every step. Erling wasted no time, bringing your lips to his in a heated kiss. You pulled away breathless trying to focus on your plan for him. "Take off your clothes and sit on the bed" you demanded, taking his chin in your hands. You watched as Erling stripped himself into his boxers, his large body in view. Every curve of his abs and v-line was torture, your mind running wild with thoughts of running your tongue down every muscle. When Erling had sat down you decided it was finally time to put on your show. He watched from the top of the bed, leaning against the headboard. You removed your heels, letting them fall softly on the floor as you moved your focus to removing your trench coat.

You started to undo the buttons as Erling watched closely, studying the way each piece of your lingerie started to show. His breathing was starting to become heavy as you worked seductively. Erling felt the heat rushing to his erected cock, the tent in his boxers becoming more evident as he watched you in your black lingerie set. "So fucking sexy, all for me baby?" He questioned coyly. "Mhm, but you'll have to be the one to take it off" you said, climbing onto the bed into his lap. "Don't mind that at all" he smirked before capturing your lips. Your bodies moved in sync, touching each other everywhere as neediness seeped into your thoughts.

Your body was taken over by lust and the incredible sensation of his soft lips moving with yours once again. The kiss was hot and intense. Both of your tongues fought for control as your bodies drew closer to one another. Erling snuck his tongue back into your mouth as you did and took control, gently biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. Your heartbeat stimulated as the intensity of want hurried through your body.

His hands roamed your body, slowly slipping off your lingerie set. Send chills up your body as heat travelled to your core. "Fuck," you moaned against his lips, as his finger ghosted over your aching pussy.

Erling's actions were the only things on your mind at the moment. His toned body, big hands, extraordinary blue eyes, and lewd manner in which he dipped his finger into your pussy, which made you moan at the sudden contact. He didn't stop, he pushed one more finger in twisting them and stroking you, rapidly. As his skillful fingers dug deeper into your core and his lips touched your pulse point, you started to feel dizzy.

"Erling," you cried, your body shivering with expectation. You put your hands on his head, pushing him closer to where you really wanted him. Before placing his tongue on your pussy, he gave you a wickedly self-congratulatory grin as you foolishly glanced down. The prompt joy of feeling him swipe his warm tongue up your cunt made you forget all about your plans to be in control.

On your throbbing clit, every lick, suck, and flick of his tongue was perfectly placed. You were moaning softly as your hands tangled deeper into his blonde locs still kept up. He didn't stop, pushing his face deeper into your pussy as you came on his face. Recovery from your first orgasm was short, wasting no time with Erling as these moments were precious. You turned around, bringing your bodies to their previous position leaning down to kiss him and grind against him, relieving the pressure on your throbbing pussy. Not many words were spoken as you grabbed Erling out his boxers, discarding of them.

Erling was thick and heavy in your hand, pulsing and dripping with pre cum as you swiped a finger across the tip before sinking down onto his cock. He initially let you ride him as you adjusted to the pressure, but as soon as your pace picked up, he grabbed your hips and fucked into you, causing you to stumble on top of him. You grabbed his chest and scratched it red, doing anything to try to control yourself as you fell into another orgasm.

As you dug your nails back into his chest, cumming once more, more explicit words spewed out of your mouth. Before turning you around to lie under him, Erling briefly let go of your hips. Erling pushed your thighs open and played with your nipples while pressing his cock against your drenched pussy, indicating that he was still ruining you. He pulled your breast out of his mouth, speaking soft words. "So beautiful like this." He slipped his cock as far as possible at his words, leaving you unfit to answer. After that, he rough-fucked you into the sheets, leaving you gasping for air by the time your third orgasm and finally his arrived.

Erling waited for your nod of approval before letting go inside of you, costing your walls with thick layers of his cum. He filled you completely. When he pulled out, you were completely worn out and closed your eyes as Erling spoke to you in a whisper. Reassuring you that this had been one of the best rounds of sex you'd had. You could only smile, bringing your body to lie on top of his, listening to his racing heart beat. Speaking soft word of "I love you" as you let him wrap his arms around your body, keeping him close.

[neverwanttofallasleep]

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 1

Word count: 5,555

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

Thank you @jakeyt for your support x

Thursday, December 15th, 2022

Manchester, England

The crowd thunders as the last note of the encore fades out into the arena. You’ve got a grin plastered to your face as you peek out from wings, cheeks aching, but you’re unable to stop smiling. Commotion begins to swirl around you as the band wave a final good night to their fans, collect their discarded items of clothing from the ground, and then beeline toward you.

You and the tech crew clap excitedly as Josh approaches, the Cheshire grin on his face mirroring your own, as he wipes the slick of sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

You grimace and reach out towards him. “No! Not on your outfit-” you start, but it’s too late.

He laughs apologetically. “Sorry, my love.” 

You can’t help but let the smile creep back onto your face as he pulls you into a quick, sweaty hug, eager to take his congratulations from the rest of the crew and get downstairs as quickly as possible. 

Next in your arms is Danny, ever respectful of his stage clothes, giving you a quick embrace before taking off his jewellery and dropping it into your open palm. 

“Great show, you!” You smile even wider at him, as he struggles to unfasten his necklace with sweaty hands. This makes you laugh. “Turn around, I’ll get it.” He smiles at you gratefully as Freddie, one of the techs, comes to help him remove his in-ears. 

You shuffle out of the way and are quickly swept off your feet by Sammy. You shriek as he throws his arms around your waist and spins you around.

“What a fucking crowd!” He’s breathless and also covered in sweat, but he’s so ridiculously happy that you can’t help but giggle and hug him back.

He sets you down and drapes his long-discarded jacket over your arm, already distracted by the praises from the rest of the crew as he gallops toward Danny and pulls him into a side hug.

You’re having shoes and sunglasses and boas dumped into your arms by every roadie that passes by, the rush to pack down the venue palpable in the air.

Jake has stayed back in the wings, eyes still on the crowd, and you see him laughing bewilderedly with Freddie as he removes his gear. When you catch his eye, he gives you a huge smile and saunters slowly toward you. You admire his ability to stay so calm, while his bandmates are jumping on each other’s backs and cackling elatedly behind you.

“What’d you think?” He smirks. It was one of the best crowds they’d had since being in Europe, and certainly the coolest venue. You can see the adrenaline radiating off of him, but he keeps his cool while waiting for your response.

“Oh my god,” you gush. “That was intense! I’ve never seen you all play like that. The crowd’s reaction says it all - you’re a fuckin’ rockstar!” 

He laughs. “Yeah, it felt pretty fucking good.” His eyes are bright with excitement as you take in his face. His long hair is stuck to the sweat on his forehead and cheeks, which are red and glistening, his chest still heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You squeeze your eyes shut as he pulls you into a hug, his arms sliding gently around your shoulders, holding you as tight as he can despite the growing pile of garments in your arms. 

Your heart is racing too, but whether it’s from the heady post-show atmosphere or the proximity of him, you can’t be sure.

He laughs again as he breaks the hug, pure shock still written on his face. He pulls off his black embroidered jacket and adds it to your pile delicately, as if worried you might topple over. 

“Go on, give your brothers a hug.” You chide, giving him permission to leave you to finish your work. He tips his head gentlemanly and continues his slow, calm walk over to his band to join them with their arms around each other.

You smile to yourself as you watch them. What a joy it is to be a part of this, to be able to watch your friends make their dreams come true, while also being lucky enough to do what you love.

You grab Sammy’s shoes from where they lie abandoned in the wings, and begin your descent from side stage to the green room. 

Carefully inspecting each item you’ve collected, you hang up clothing in the trunks and place accessories in the labelled bins. As you artfully toss a pair of love heart sunglasses, meticulously rhinestoned with ‘JAKE’, across the room into his bin, you catch him standing in the walkway of the green room, observing you silently. You’re not alone in the room, but the only people around are a few techs packing up gear and your friend Julie, the hair & makeup stylist, who’s quietly cleaning her brushes at the small sink in the corner.

Jake has since stripped the rest of his stage clothes, his pants hanging on his arm and shiny black boots in hand. He’s swapped out the black suit for a lazily buttoned denim shirt and a pair of black jeans. He’s still barefoot.

“Nice shot.” He smirks.

You smile back, embarrassed. “I’m nothing if not efficient, Kiszka. Thought you might wanna keep those ones.” You counter, gesturing toward the glasses. You’re not sure why the blush is radiating in your cheeks, you’ve done this dance a million times. His post show flirtation isn’t foreign to you, and since your friendship has blossomed, you can’t say you don’t enjoy it.

Actually, that’s an understatement. You love it.

Jake is in a long term relationship. A girl he went to high school with, she’s now finishing a Law degree at Vanderbilt University in Nashville. After a few years of touring and being on completely different schedules, he and Lily decided to open up their relationship. ‘Open on the road’, as he affectionally refers to it. This means they can sleep with whoever they want, as long as it remains un-romantic, in hopes of allowing them the freedom to live their 20s apart while still being in love with each other.

You understood this concept completely. You and your girlfriend, Stella, had just celebrated one year together when you started your job as a wardrobe coordinator with the previous musician you’d worked for. It didn’t last long though. Stella had been unfaithful a few months into the tour, and you’d broken up. You’d blamed yourself for her infidelity, spending long stretches away from home, and unable to want to be with other people, you’d continuously shut down Stella’s suggestion of non-monogamy when it was brought up. The relationship had ended amicably, albeit suddenly and not without some heartbreak on both sides, but you were okay. You’d been offered a similar wardrobe position with Greta Van Fleet right before this current tour, working under some designers you adore, and living this new, single chapter of your life to the fullest.

Jake, however, is a bit of a spanner in the works. The first time you’d seen him, in one of the wardrobe designers’ studios for a fitting, you were admittedly rendered a bit breathless. He’s gorgeous, with that long, wavy golden-brown hair, beautiful doe eyes that you can’t look at for too long without getting a bit flustered, soft, tanned skin and a perfectly sincere smile that crinkles his eyes. A musician too, and funny, smart, sensitive, well-read, worldly, although sometimes a bit pretentious, he'd checked all of your boxes immediately.

You’d caught his attention at a crew party before the first show of the tour, and he introduced himself again, this time a bit more alcohol on his breath and flirtatious confidence in his words. You’d laughed at him, reminding him you’d already met, and told him you were excited to head on the road with them, that you loved the band’s music, the outfits they’d selected for the tour, and that you couldn’t wait to see the show.

He was smooth, and after some casual conversation in which he explained his and Lily’s arrangement, he’d propositioned you to spend the night with him.

You’d politely declined, citing that you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure, although knowing full well you’d slept with exactly 2 of the roadies coming on the tour (what can you say, you’ve got a thing for musos?) - but you knew that any type of intimacy with Jake would fuck with your head. He was the full package, mysterious but sweet, and just the type of person you could see yourself falling pathetically in love with.

Jake had been disappointed, but he’d immediately felt some kind of magnetic pull towards you, and he’d known he needed to have you in his life. You’d settled for a flirtatious friendship, an arrangement that works for both of you. You love to feel desired by him, and keeping him at an arm’s length only makes him work harder. He likes to make you blush and stumble over your words, clearly losing coherency when he gives you the smallest compliment or the slightest suggestive glance.

Like now, as he walks towards you, you’re admittedly a little incoherent when he stops so close you have to tilt your head back to keep his eyes. Those eyes flit momentarily to your lips, and he reaches forward with his free hand to tuck a fallen curl behind your ear, the back of his fingers brushing your cheek on the way down. 

He’s so close he only needs to breathe his words. “That you are.”

He takes half a step back to hand you his trousers and shoes and you take them from him blindly, unable to pull your eyes from his face.

When you don’t say anything, he changes the subject. 

“Where will you be sleeping tonight, Y/N?” He smirks, his tone lighter. 

You’d made it an unconventional habit to sleep in each other’s hotel rooms on tour, both preferring the platonic companionship to sleeping alone. This, however, causes it’s own issues when you fall asleep drunk and cuddling and it only makes you more infatuated with him. You tell yourself as long as you don’t cross the line, (the no sex/no kissing boundary you’ve made up firmly in your head), you’ll be able to keep your feelings in check. This arrangement also causes issues with his bandmates, as they firmly believe you and Jake are fucking, and they love to rib you both for it.

“In my bed, I imagine.” You reply nonchalantly as you step away from him, moving back to hang up his clothes. Before you can stop yourself, you continue; “You’re welcome to join me, if you’re not planning on entertaining any lady friends tonight?”

There’s a teasing tone in your voice, and not that Jake can detect it, but there’s also a genuine curiosity. He seems to have toned it down on the one night stands the further you get into the tour, and you’re trying to figure out if your friendly attachment has been inhibiting his pick up game, or if he genuinely doesn’t mind giving up nights of meaningless sex to watch you iron suit jackets, and fall asleep with his arms around you.

He hasn’t replied, so you sneak a glance over your shoulder and see him leaning back against a folding table, watching you work with an unreadable expression. "No lady friends.” He shakes his head. “Well, y’know. Other than yourself, of course.” He gives you an easy smile.

“Well, yes,” you let out a small laugh, “but I don’t count now, do I?”

“Whatever could you mean?” He says with mock-surprise. “You’re my favourite lady friend.” He emphasises the last word and you smile to yourself.

You think for a moment. “Where are you going out tonight?”

“We’re going out?” Jake checks his phone. “We’ve gotta be out of the venue in an hour, and the bus is leaving early tomorrow.”

You throw him an incredulous look. “You’re only in Manchester for one night! How can you not want to celebrate after a show like that?”

He hums. “I guess you’re right, as usual.” You let out a soft laugh. “I’ll ask Josh if he’s planned anything.”

It’s your turn to look at the time. You pull your phone out of your pocket. 11.50pm.

“Where are those pesky boys at, anyway? Danny’s the only one who’s returned all his stuff.”

“Other than me, of course.” Jake smirks. “They’re doing shots with the soundies in the dressing room.” 

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“Wanted to hang out with you.” He replies matter-of-factly. “And y’know, I’m already drunk.” You can tell by the high lilt in his voice and the casual confidence he’s exuding, that this is, in fact, true.

You giggle, and your heart flutters a little. You clear your throat.

“I need their clothes. Josh ripped a hole under his arm and I need to fix it before the dry-cleaners take everything.” You start towards the hallway and then turn your head to see if he’s following.

He’s stood up from his perch on the table and is a few steps behind you. “Lead the way, ma’am.” This makes you laugh.

You can hear Josh from the dressing room before you can see him. As you reach the door, you’re met with commotion coming from all corners of the small space, filled to the brim with friends and crew.

“Y/N!” You turn to the sound and see Sammy on the couch, sunglasses on, arm slung over a beautiful, ebony-haired girl you recognise.

“Oh my god!” You cry. You move quickly toward the couple. “Lennon!”

The girl grins, and stands to give you a warm hug.

You’re stunned. “I had no idea you were here!”

Lennon pulls back to see your face, still holding onto your forearms.

“I watched the show tonight! Flew in this morning. I’m travelling with y’all to London.” Her eyes are a little red, you can only assume she and Sammy have indulged in a post-show joint. Explains the sunglasses.

“Why didn’t you come see me?” You scold her. “I’ve been stuck in my hotel room all day ironing pleats into pants! Could’ve used a hug from you!”

She looks guilty to Sammy.

“I wanted her to myself.” He says nonchalantly.

You laugh knowingly. “Oh, so that’s where you were all day.” You tease him.

You haven’t noticed Jake standing close behind you when he chimes in. “Didn’t you wonder why I was hanging around in your room like a bad smell?” He looks at you as he says this. “I’m not that interested in ironing. I couldn’t very well be in my room, you know, when all I could hear through the wall was the headboard.”

You roll your eyes.

Your emotion quickly changes to embarrassment when Sammy quips, “Oh, like you’re not always in her room.” 

Jake just grins.

You make a move to remove yourself from the conversation before Sammy can throw any more accusations at you and Jake. You give Lennon another big hug and promise to catch up with her properly later. You’re excited to have another girlfriend on the tour, even if only for a few days. You and Lennon had gotten to know each other well when the band were prepping for the tour in Nashville. She and Sammy share an apartment together in the city with their two dogs, Rose and Hendrix. She’s a musician too, an incredible harpist and singer, but she usually only plays weddings and small gigs close to home. She comes out on the road occasionally, when her schedule allows.

You admire how Sam and Lennon make it work. They’ve been together long enough to move in together, and for a different couple to get bored with each other, especially when one of them is away from home for such long periods of time. But they love each other so fully, they just cherish their time together and are able to hold onto that when they’re apart. 

You think about Stella, and how you wish you’d been able to do that. You’re not in love with Stella anymore, but the failure of that relationship is a constant reminder of this life of travel you’ve chosen, and how hard it makes it to maintain any kind of home base.

You’re dreading the end of the tour and thinking about what you’re going to do next, but it’s still a few months away. After shows all over Asia and Europe, London is the last stop abroad before you head back to the States. The tour will break for Christmas and New Years as soon as you get home, two weeks off and then to New York to kick off the U.S. leg. Your mom is in Dallas, and you’re going to see her when the tour gets there in February, but you've decided not to go home for the holidays so you can focus on work. This might be a thinly veiled excuse for not wanting to deal with the usual family drama that’s haunted every Christmas you’ve had since you were 12, but you’ve got plans to fly directly into NYC with the rest of the crew and spend the break there.

Here, on tour, you feel at home with your little musical family. You’ve always had a penchant for the arts, growing up with a musical mother and an artistic father, you’d always been drawn to costume design. You loved making costumes for your school musicals and had always had great aspirations of becoming a Broadway costume designer. As you grew up, you moved towards bespoke fashion, finding a niche in personal styling. You’d worked successfully in New York as a magazine stylist, getting to play with some drool-worthy vintage fashion (some pieces cost more than your car!) for a few years before being offered a job styling musicians by an old connection from your Fashion History class at NYU. You’d had to relocate to Nashville, but it was a dream job, and you couldn’t say no.

Here you’d met so many amazing people in an unfamiliar industry, and learned more every day. It combined your two great loves, music and design. And you’d made friends, where you least expected to, with everyone on the tour. Julie, the roadies (Freddie especially, he was your favourite), the other guys in the band and their partners, and most surprisingly to you, Jake. For you, it felt worth it to give up your romantic relationships for the time being, to be able to trade it for such fulfilment in your work.

You leave Sammy, Lennon and Jake laughing together, and weave through the room full of cigarette smoke and shot glasses dripping with what you assume to be tequila, which is confirmed when you finally reach a drunk and giggling Josh, who’s waving his arms in the air animatedly, telling a particularly captivating anecdote, and as you bump into him, he splashes the contents of his cup into your hair.

He turns quickly and laughs when he sees your state. “I’m sorry, doll!” He goes to lick the tequila from your cheek. Not unusual for him. “Free drink for you though.” He winks, and you frown.

“I need your clothes - I gotta fix that rip tonight.” You say grumpily.

“Of course, my love.” He overcompensates for his clumsiness by complying immediately. He passes his cup to the guy he was, a moment ago, telling his story, and turns around for you to unzip his jumpsuit. He strips quickly, handing you the gold garment and resumes his story, happy to be in his underwear until someone inevitably tells him to put some clothes on.

You thank him quietly and huff away, annoyed about the liquor now dripping down the back of your neck.

You return to Sam’s couch, silently pleased to find he has since changed (perhaps after seeing your tequila mishap and subsequent treatment of Josh), and hands you his stage trousers.

Jake looks up at you from his seat on the arm of the couch.

“Jesus, what happened to you?” He looks like he’s holding back a laugh, and in your ruined mood, you’re grateful.

“Josh.” You reply dully.

He can’t hold it back then, and lets out a small chuckle.

“Fucking mess, that kid.” Sam chides, in an effort to cheer you up.

You grumble and avert your eyes to the floor. “I’m going back to the hotel. I need to shower and pack for tomorrow and fix this fucking costume.” You gesture to Josh’s clothes under your arm. As you look down, you notice Jake has donned his beaten tan Chelsea boots. You take this as a sign that he’s preparing to join the crew for an adventure out into the city. “I’ll be up when you’re done if you still want to come round, just text me.” You say quietly to him.

He stands. “Nah, I’m not going out. Everyone’s already shitfaced here and I reckon Craig will come to kick us out in about, uhh,” he pauses to check his phone. “5 minutes.”

You smile at this. You don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t go out and enjoy his night, but selfishly, you would love some company in your sorry state.

Sammy and Lennon stand up too. “We’ll join you, if you’re getting a ride.”

“Gotta make the most of having her here.” Sammy gestures to Lennon and she blushes.

Jake laughs. “Yuck. Alright, lovebirds. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

Jake holds your hand as he leads you back up the hallway. He does this sometimes, holds your hand when you’re sad or stressed, and although you hope Sam’s not paying attention so as to make fun of you, you relish in the feeling of his calloused fingers threaded through yours.

When you reach the green room, you reluctantly drop his hand, and move quickly to close up the trunks, now ready to be packed onto the truck. You go to grab your purse and the bag of mending, Lennon hanging back as Sammy and Jake head out to find a driver. You pull your phone out and shoot a quick text to the dry-cleaner, to let him know he’ll need to make a stop-off at your room in the morning.

“Is it hard?” Lennon asks casually.

“What’s that?” You ask, as you pocket your phone and pack the last of your sewing kit into your back-pack.

She hums. “Sleeping with him, and being so close all the time, when it’s just casual.”

You blush deeply. “Oh, Lennon, we’re not - I mean - we’re just friends, Jake and I.” You stumble on the words. It’s not unusual for people to assume you two are sleeping together, but Lennon and Lily are friends, and you’d would hate to think she might see your’s and Jake’s relationship as a threat.

“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “Why haven’t you? He is a free agent ‘on the road’, after all.” 

You smile to yourself. This is usually the follow up question when you tell people that you and Jake aren’t sleeping together, especially those that know his situation.

“Just because he can, doesn’t mean we should.” You correct. “We’ve got a good thing going, I think we both feel sex would just complicate it.” This was partly true, but you know the complications would be purely one-sided. Jake has been able to have casual sex with female friends before and had no issues. For you, however… well, you just feel like you’d never be able to take it back.

“Smart girl.” Lennon responds, as if understanding your unspoken sentiment. “Those Kiszkas - damn. They’re irresistible. I’m never shocked by how many girls are just following them around, hoping for some attention.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” You realise the double meaning in your words and your cheeks flush again. Lennon giggles. “I just mean, like, they have a lot of ‘groupies’.” You clarify.

“You know,” She continues, “the reason I assumed, that you guys were hooking up, I mean, was ‘cause Jake seemed like he was turning down a girl in the dressing room. Some friend of Danny’s. Seemed pretty confident he’d say yes, like maybe they’d slept together before?” You knew who she meant, Danny’s friend Meghan who lived in London and had spent a few nights on the road with them. You knew she and Jake had hooked up - a few times.

Lennon pushes on. “But he seemed very uninterested, I must say. And then when he said he was coming back with you, I just put two and two together.” She’s got a leading tone in her voice, as if to push an admission from you.

“I’m not sure if anything’s going on with them.” You lie. “Maybe she’s just not his type?”

You feel your stomach flip a little at your suspicions being confirmed. The thought of Jake turning down a hook-up to spend time with you makes you feel warm. You try to shake the thought from your head. Maybe he just isn’t feeling it tonight? After a show like that, though, and all that adrenaline…

“Okay, ladies, time to party!” Sam calls from the far hallway. “Tom’s bringing the car ‘round now.” He beelines for Lennon and gives her a sloppy peck before encircling her waist with his arm to lead her out. She catches your eye and mouthes ‘irresistible’ before turning to walk away. They can’t keep their hands off each other.

When the car pulls up at the hotel, after a short ride full of R-rated banter from Sammy and Jake, you’re feeling tremendously better. Though you still have some work to do before you can curl up in your comfy, queen-sized hotel bed, you’re in much better spirits.

You clamber out from the passenger seat, calling back to Tom, the driver, to pop the trunk for you to retrieve your bags. As you step around to the rear of the car, Jake has beaten you there.

“I got it.” He smiles gently as he hands you your purse, and swings your back-pack over his left shoulder, your tote full of mending over his right.

“You’re too kind.” You say playfully, but your tummy is doing a little flip at the gesture.

He grins and grabs his acoustic case, closing the trunk, and walks over to the driver’s side to thank Tom.

You make brief eye contact with Lennon, who’s giving you a huge smirk.

“You headed back to the venue?” Jake asks Tom through the open car window.

“Yeah, dude. Someone’s gotta make sure that good-for-nothing brother of yours gets back here in one piece.” He glances back toward Sam, who’s making a lewd hand gesture at Jake. “The other one, I mean.”

Jake chuckles. "Well, thanks again, man. Drive safe - see you tomorrow?”

“Sure will!”

With that, Tom rolls up the window, waves at you both, and pulls away from the curb.

You begin walking over to where Sammy and Lennon are huddled near the entrance to the hotel. Jake quickly catches up to you, ghosting his hand over the small of your back as the four of you make your way through the sliding doors and towards the elevator.

Lennon reaches out and grabs your hand as you walk. “You two wanna come have a night cap in Sam’s room, hon?” She bats her eyelashes, making it hard for you to decline.

You frown. “I’d love to - but I really gotta get this work done. The dry-cleaner is coming to my room to pick up Josh’s stuff at 7am, and then we gotta be on the bus by 7.30.”

Sam groans. “7.30? Really?”

“You can just roll into the bunk and go back to sleep, Sam.” Jake laughs at him. “It’s a four-hour bus ride to London, and it’s not like you’ll be the one doing the driving.”

“Oh, yeah!” Sam perks back up. You and Lennon giggle. He turns to Jake. “You wanna come for a drink?”

Jake glances at you, and as if remembering that you’re not together, and you don’t have to do everything together, he nods to himself.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll come for one. I’ll walk Y/N back to her room first, and drop off my guitar, and then I’ll pop ‘round?”

Sam fist pumps. “Fuck yeah. The last tequila of the night doesn’t taste the same without you, brother.” Jake and Lennon laugh at Sam again, but this time, you can’t bring yourself to.

In that moment, when he'd looked at you, it had all come crashing down. Lennon’s words, Jake’s flirting, the chivalry, his barely-there touches, it had struck a nerve.

You had wanted him to say no. You wanted him to come back to your room, sit with you, strum a quiet song on his acoustic while you did your sewing. Make you laugh, maybe have a drink together while you worked. Fall asleep with you.

But was that really yours to want?

You pile into the elevator, Sam pressing the number for his floor, and Jake yours.

You and Jake step out of the elevator and make your way down the corridor to your room. It’s quiet for a few moments, but you can almost hear the cogs whirring in his head, preparing to speak.

He clears his throat. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You turn your head to give him an inquisitive look. “Mind what?”

“if I go for a drink with Sam and Lennon.”

“Of course not. Why would I mind?”

He frowns. “Okay.” He pauses for a second, and then continues. “I, uh, I dunno. I just feel bad, leaving you by yourself. I know you were a bit crabby about what happened with Josh earlier, y’know.”

You reach the door to your room and lean back against it. You feel your cheeks growing warm, but you shake your head. “Jake,” you pat his arm. “I’m fine. It was nothing. I really appreciate how much you care about me, but please don’t forget, I’m not your responsibility. This is your tour, with your band, your family!” 

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t place. You think back to how he turned down Meghan, and wonder if he did it out of pity.

It’s your turn to frown. “I’m not about to get in the way of you enjoying yourself while you’re on the road. You’re a great friend, and I really like spending time with you.” You take a deep breath. “I worry that, maybe we’ve gotten too close. Too… co-dependant. I don’t wanna be the reason you don’t have fun.”

He’s close to you. He leans to rest his guitar case against the wall next to your door, his arm almost brushing yours. So close, you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s been looking directly at you while you speak, but when you say this, he looks at the floor.

He sighs. “I have fun with you.” He mumbles. He meets your eyes again, and this time, he looks sad.

“Me too. But this - us, hanging out, or whatever this is, it’s kinda domestic, isn’t it? Does it ever make you feel guilty?” You feel a pang of regret as the words leave your mouth. The last thing you want to do is push him away, but this feeling of guilt has been bubbling up inside you. You constantly have to remind yourself of his unavailability, and the unknown of whether or not you’re crossing an emotional boundary has been taking a toll on you.

He takes a step back, and his face hardens at your question.

“Guilty for what?” He snaps. You’re shocked by the sudden change in his tone.

You feel embarrassed, but you push on. “For all of it. Spending all our free time together. Sharing a bed.” You sigh quietly. “From what Lennon said, it sounded like you turned someone down to come back to the hotel with me. Why did you do that?”

He looks angry now. “Why shouldn’t I? I’m a grown up, I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.” He spits. “I’m in an open relationship, yes, but it doesn’t mean I have to fuck any girl who throws herself at me. Maybe I just wanted to spend time with my friend. And, you know, I thought she wanted that, too. Obviously I was wrong.”

You recoil a little, his voice raising as he continues.

“We’re friends, Y/N. That’s all you are to me. I have nothing to feel guilty about. I like the company while I’m out here touring. If you’re not up for it, I can just hang out with Josh. I don’t know what you’re worried about, co-dependancy or whatever the fuck, we’re just fucking friends.”

You feel the tears burning in your eyes, but you do your best to hold them back.

“This doesn’t feel like just friendship to me, Jake.” You whisper.

“Well, that sounds like a fucking you problem.” He dumps your bags on the floor, grabs the guitar case, and turns on his heel. “‘Night, Y/N.”

Chapter 2

[a-trick-or-two-with-lepers]

A Decidedly Unserious Review of Hair 2001 (ft. Drew Sarich)

I’m back for another lunatic review. This time: the 2001 recording of Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical. This is so silly. I literally decided to do this like two hours ago because @peppi-mint wanted to hear my thoughts on it. Well, peppi, prepare to get an earful because I had some THOUGHTS

(I’m so sorry)

Aquarius- um. This is literally so cool. The hip-hop beat sets the tone, which is vastly different from every Hair recording I’ve heard. And then the violins come in and it’s like YOOOOO. And then the broadway singing comes in and it’s like YOOOOOOOOOOO! And then the dissonant harmonies hit and it’s like YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I really like this. Very different and fresh and new and Y2K in the best way. I can’t stress how fucking amazing those harmonies sound.

Donna- Ok, Drew!! Give us that punk-rock energy! The electric guitar sound is really neat, and I kinda dig the reverb as well as the way Sarich sings most of the lines straight intentionally. Whereas the harmonies were highlighted in the last song, they act more as a part of the orchestra in this song, but it still feels full and tasteful. Really enjoying this so far.

Hashish- I’ve literally always skipped “Hashish.” It’s boring to me. I’m a sober loser. But THIS?! What are they doing to my boring hashish!! The instrumentation is so experimental and interesting to listen to. I like that the cast isn’t going over the top with the vocals, too. They’re supposed to be high, so going full belt and vibrato isn’t really the vibe.

Sodomy- I’m literally Debbie Reynolds-ing right now. This guy’s voice has me biting my lip for real. Catch me joining the Holy Orgy ™ any day of the week.

Colored Spade- This production is obviously informed heavily by black music. Which makes this song slightly more comfortable to listen to. I can’t really speak on it though- I’m white. All I can say is: it’s a bop. Also, the second half?? So fucking groovy. Yes I’m using that word unironically. It’s a good word.

Manchester England- Stripped down acoustic guitar… mkay I can get with that. Makes the full orchestration pop out more. Loving these glam rock vocals from Kyrre Kvam.

I’m Black- It was literally 22 seconds long and sounded like a car commercial with that fade in and fade out I’m lmao 😭Where’s my Ain’t Got No?!?!?!?

Dead End- Ok so I rarely hear this one in any recorded productions. I’ve only ever really heard it in college production bootlegs I watch on Youtube. This version has me saying WHY DID THEY REMOVE IT?!? It’s seriously so good. 

Air- The vocal affectation that Jeannie usually has tends to annoy me, which I guess is intentional, but I’m glad it’s more toned down here. The industrial sound of the instruments clashes with the light and breezy vocals in a really fascinating way. It’s like a big burly man wearing a flowery perfume. Thumbs up from me. 

I Got Life- Teehee if you take out your left earbud you get an a capella intro 🤭Anyway, I always love this song. This version is no exception. Treat Williams is still top, tho (Rest in Peace, King). 

Hair- The titular bitchular! (-Athena P on YT). Something about the way the sound is split between each ear in the intro (vocals in one ear, guitar in the other) is ticking me off. That’s just me, though. Overall, this sounds so fucking good and it’s such a vibe. I’m not sure if it’s Kvam or Sarich who hits those high notes but they hit, man.

My Conviction- Hehehehehe this sounds so out of place I love it. (It’s supposed to- just like Herod’s song in JCS)! Also how are these vocals from a man?? They aren’t my favorite but they sound soooo much like a woman that’s crazy. Anyway gender is fake

Easy To Be Hard- Um. Can we say elegant? Can we say… mystical? GORGINA?!? BRO when the,,, fuck what is it, a marimba or some shit comes in with that overarching angelic tone- fuuuuuucccckkkkk. So good. Also the shaker keeping the beat tastes good. I can taste this song. It tastes like a capri-sun on a hot day. I’m in love. Hold up- added verse? Why haven’t I heard this-

Frank Mills- Awwwwww this is cute. I like this woman’s voice. Very smooth and nice to listen to. What I’m noticing so far about this album is that they treat each song like it’s its own person, you know? Like- every tune sounds coherent and like it belongs, but it also sounds like its own thing with its own special instrumentation. It’s just. So neat.

Be In - Hare Krishna- The speaker shifting got me like 🫠so good. It’s like ASMR. Another thing I’m noticing about the ensemble vocals is that they’re so… earnest? They aren’t worn like clothing, they’re like a part of the individual. ... Any arrangement that can make me describe music like this deserves the world.

Where Do I Go- Fuck. I just love arrangements that do something new. This sound is so clean and genuine and beautiful. If I could insert John Savage’s vocals into this it would be perfect (No shade to Kvam- I just love the movie version of this song so much). This is probably my favorite song from the musical (I literally wrote a 30k+ word fanfiction based on its lyrics), and I’m sooooo utterly pleased with this interpretation of it. All I’ll say is that the end could’ve been a bit louder/more intense- it is an Act I closer, after all. More drums, please!

Electric Blues- TELL ME WHOOOOOO DO YOU LOVE MAN! *guitar* Ermmm I love Electric Blues I love it. I wanna inject this song into my bloodstream. This version doesn’t stray too much from the original, and it slaps. Always does. Also I just realized this came out before the Broadway revival. I wonder if the revival folks took a bit of inspo from this version 🤔

Black Boys- ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS (I love the staccato guitar chords, offbeat, percussion, tonal shift during the solo represented by the instrumentation, and just everything else about this).

White Boys- My eyes literally rolled to the back of my skull during that intro. So good!! So tasty! Also these VOCALS! Less energy than the others I’ve heard, but that’s not a criticism. It’s more reminiscent of the original cast recording. Once again, ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS. 🍽️

Walking in Space- dodo do do dodo dooooooo. (guitar). Again, the vocalists aren’t overdoing it, which is working. I’ll probably smoke marijuana to this song at some point. Looking forward to it. Also when she sang “ 🎶floooooooaaating, flipping, flyyyyyying, tripping 🎶” I was like 😶‍🌫️(that’s me floating flipping flying tripping). . I want to consume these vocals

The War- Don’t think I’ve heard this one in any other production? It definitely fits the vibe they’re going for. I’d love to know the context for it. Eh, actually, I think I can guess...

Three-Five-Zero-Zero- Listening to this is making me realize how important the bass guitar is as an instrument. Songs would sound so much less full without its constant, droning presence. Also, I would’ve loved to see them lean even further into the experimental vibe for this one so that the tonal shift would sound more stark. Regardless, it all sounds really good. Love the harmonies, especially at the end.

Good Morning Starshine- I have a poster of these three words in my room. Also, I like this version of the song. Very 2001. Kinda reminds me of that song “Walking on Sunshine,” similar vibes. Not my favorite version, but still a bop and very fun. 

The Flesh Failures/Eyes Look Your Last- Guitar is so yummy. I don’t like the chorus singing the first part. I’m just too used to it being a soloist or Claude. Also, it feels kinda too fast? Sorry, I have ridiculously high standards for this song. I think it’s one of the best songs ever written. Given that fact, it’s hard to fuck it up. So, this sounds really good still, obviously. Just didn’t hit quite as hard for me. I feel like they tried so hard to make every other song sound unique and they dropped the ball a bit here. It sounds like they’re trying to just get it over with… which is very contradictory to the song’s message. Also, why isn’t “Let the Sunshine In” a part of the title? Seems kinda important 😬

Hippie Life- …huh?

Aquarius (Bonustrack) - director’s cut- It’s the remix 😎

Overall, I was really impressed by this album. I’m glad I took a listen. It seems like a very approachable version of the controversial musical. I think it’d be a good album to show friends that aren’t into musicals but should still get to enjoy Hair. Some choices weren’t my style, but I’m genuinely so astounded and excited by others. Act I was better than Act II. Drew Sarich was great, and so was the rest of the cast. Ultimately, a very cool take on one of my favorite musicals of all time. Thanks again to @peppi-mint for recommending this to me- I’m so happy I got to do another silly little stream-of-consciousness musical review!

[hairtransplantbirmingham]

Top Hair Transplant Clinics in the UK: Your Path to Fuller Hair

Hair loss can be a significant concern for many individuals, affecting self-esteem and confidence. For those seeking a permanent solution, hair transplant surgery has become an increasingly popular option. The UK is home to several reputable clinics that offer advanced hair restoration techniques, catering to a wide range of needs and preferences. This article will explore some of the top hair transplant clinics in the UK, their services, and what you should consider when choosing the right clinic for your hair restoration journey.

Understanding Hair Transplant Surgery

Hair transplant surgery involves moving hair follicles from a donor site on the scalp (or other areas) to balding or thinning areas. The two primary techniques used in hair transplants are Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE) and Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT).

Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE)

FUE is a minimally invasive technique where individual hair follicles are harvested from the donor area and implanted into the recipient site. This method leaves minimal scarring and has a quicker recovery time, making it a preferred choice for many patients.

Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT)

FUT, also known as strip harvesting, involves removing a strip of skin from the donor area, which is then dissected into individual follicular units for transplantation. While this method can yield a larger number of grafts in one session, it may leave a linear scar.

Both methods have their advantages and are chosen based on individual needs and the extent of hair loss.

Factors to Consider When Choosing a Hair Transplant Clinic

Selecting the right clinic for a hair transplant is crucial for achieving the best results. Here are several factors to consider:

1. Qualifications and Experience

Look for clinics with qualified surgeons who have extensive experience in performing hair transplant procedures. Verify their credentials, certifications, and any specialized training they have received.

2. Reputation and Reviews

Research the clinic’s reputation by reading reviews from past patients. Online forums, social media, and dedicated health review sites can provide insights into patient experiences and overall satisfaction.

3. Consultation Process

A reputable clinic will offer a comprehensive consultation to assess your hair loss, discuss your goals, and explain the available treatment options. This initial meeting is an opportunity to ask questions and gauge the clinic’s approach to patient care.

4. Technology and Techniques

Inquire about the technology and techniques used at the clinic. Advanced equipment and methods can enhance the effectiveness of the procedure and improve outcomes.

5. Aftercare and Support

Post-operative care is vital for successful recovery and results. Ensure that the clinic provides adequate aftercare support and guidance throughout the healing process.

6. Cost and Financing Options

Understand the cost of the procedure and what is included in the price. Some clinics offer financing options to make treatment more accessible.

Top Hair Transplant Clinics in the UK

1. The Harley Street Hair Clinic

Located in London, The Harley Street Hair Clinic is renowned for its expertise in hair restoration. The clinic offers both FUE and FUT techniques, along with advanced non-surgical options. Led by experienced surgeons, the clinic provides personalized treatment plans and a comprehensive consultation process. Patients praise the clinic for its professionalism and high standards of care.

2. The Private Clinic

The Private Clinic has multiple locations across the UK, including London, Manchester, and Birmingham. They offer a range of hair transplant options, focusing on FUE techniques. The clinic is known for its state-of-the-art facilities and a team of experienced surgeons who are dedicated to achieving natural-looking results. Additionally, The Private Clinic emphasizes patient education, ensuring clients understand the procedure and aftercare.

3. Hair Transplant UK

Hair Transplant UK is recognized for its commitment to quality and patient satisfaction. Based in Manchester, the clinic specializes in FUE hair transplants and offers a comprehensive range of hair restoration services. The team consists of skilled professionals who stay abreast of the latest techniques and technologies. Patients report positive experiences and significant improvements in hair density following treatment.

4. Crown Clinic

Crown Clinic, located in Manchester, has garnered a strong reputation for its hair transplant services. The clinic focuses on FUE techniques and provides personalized care tailored to each patient’s needs. Led by experienced surgeons, Crown Clinic emphasizes patient comfort and safety throughout the entire process. Many patients have shared success stories, highlighting the natural results achieved.

5. Farjo Hair Institute

With locations in Manchester and London, Farjo Hair Institute is a well-respected name in the field of hair restoration. The clinic offers both FUE and FUT techniques, with a strong emphasis on research and innovation. The Farjo team is composed of highly qualified professionals who are dedicated to delivering optimal results. Patients appreciate the clinic’s thorough consultation process and the detailed explanations of the procedures.

6. London Hair Transplant Clinic

The London Hair Transplant Clinic is known for its specialized approach to hair restoration. The clinic focuses on FUE techniques and provides comprehensive consultations to assess individual needs. Patients benefit from a personalized treatment plan and ongoing support throughout the recovery process. The clinic has received positive feedback for its attentive staff and successful outcomes.

7. NewMe Health

NewMe Health, based in London, offers a modern approach to hair restoration, combining advanced technology with personalized care. The clinic specializes in FUE techniques and is known for its friendly atmosphere and professional team. Patients often commend the clinic for its transparency and commitment to achieving natural-looking results.

8. The Belgravia Centre

The Belgravia Centre, located in London, provides a holistic approach to hair restoration. In addition to surgical options, the clinic offers non-surgical treatments, including laser therapy and topical solutions. This comprehensive approach allows patients to explore various options to address their hair loss concerns. The clinic has a strong focus on patient education and support.

What to Expect During the Hair Transplant Procedure

1. Initial Consultation

During your consultation, the surgeon will assess your hair loss, discuss your medical history, and determine the best treatment plan. You will have the opportunity to ask questions and express any concerns.

2. Pre-Operative Preparation

Before the procedure, you may be advised to avoid certain medications and alcohol to minimize the risk of complications. The clinic will provide specific instructions to prepare you for surgery.

3. The Procedure

On the day of the procedure, you will receive local anesthesia to ensure comfort. For FUE, individual hair follicles will be harvested and transplanted into the thinning areas. For FUT, a strip of skin will be removed, and the follicles will be dissected and implanted. The duration of the procedure varies based on the extent of hair loss.

4. Post-Operative Care

After the procedure, you will receive detailed aftercare instructions. It is normal to experience some swelling, redness, and discomfort in the treated areas. Follow the clinic's guidelines for optimal healing and results.

5. Follow-Up Appointments

Regular follow-up appointments may be scheduled to monitor your progress and address any concerns. These visits are essential for ensuring that you are healing properly and that the transplanted hair is growing as expected.

The Importance of Aftercare

Proper aftercare is vital for the success of your hair transplant. Here are some key aspects to consider:

1. Keeping the Scalp Clean

Maintaining cleanliness is crucial to prevent infection. Follow the clinic's instructions for washing your scalp and avoid using harsh products during the healing process.

2. Avoiding Strenuous Activities

In the days following the procedure, avoid strenuous activities and excessive sweating, as these can disrupt the healing process.

3. Protecting the Scalp from Sun Exposure

Protect your scalp from direct sunlight and UV exposure, as this can irritate the sensitive skin. Wearing a hat or using sunscreen is recommended.

4. Following Medication Guidelines

If prescribed medications, such as antibiotics or anti-inflammatory drugs, take them as directed to support your recovery.

Conclusion

Choosing to undergo a hair transplant is a significant decision that can lead to transformative results. The UK offers a wealth of reputable clinics specializing in hair restoration, each with unique strengths and services. By considering factors such as qualifications, reputation, and patient care, individuals can find the right clinic to meet their needs.With advanced techniques like FUE and FUT, coupled with comprehensive aftercare, patients can embark on their journey to fuller hair with confidence. Whether you're dealing with genetic hair loss, hormonal changes, or other factors, the path to restoring your hair begins with thorough research and a commitment to finding the best clinic for your needs. As you take this important step, remember that the right support and expertise are essential for achieving the results you desire. Embrace the opportunity to regain your confidence and enjoy the benefits of a fuller head of hair.

[donendusteddetailingqw]

Mobile Car Detailing Service in Manchester: A Comprehensive Guide

In the bustling city of Manchester, where the pace of life is fast and time is often a luxury, finding efficient ways to maintain and care for personal assets like cars is a priority for many. Among the various solutions available, mobile car detailing services stand out as a particularly convenient and effective option. This guide will explore what mobile car detailing entails, its benefits, and how residents of Manchester can select the best service provider to meet their needs Mobile Car Detailing Service in Manchester.

What is Mobile Car Detailing?

Mobile car detailing is a professional service that brings the full car detailing experience to your doorstep. Unlike traditional car washes that focus primarily on the exterior cleanliness of your vehicle, detailing services dive deeper, addressing both the interior and exterior with a level of precision and care that restores the car to a near-showroom quality.

Exterior Detailing

This involves a thorough cleaning of the vehicle's surface, including washing, drying, waxing, and polishing the exterior. Detailers also take care of the wheels, tires, and undercarriage, removing grime and applying protective coatings to all surfaces to ensure a lasting shine and protection against the elements.

Interior Detailing

Interior detailing is just as crucial, involving a deep clean of the inside of the vehicle. This includes vacuuming, shampooing carpets and upholstery, cleaning and conditioning leather, and wiping down all surfaces to remove dust, dirt, and grime. High-touch areas are sanitized, and attention is paid to every nook and cranny, ensuring a pristine environment.

Benefits of Mobile Car Detailing in Manchester

The benefits of opting for a mobile car detailing service in Manchester are numerous:

Convenience

Perhaps the most significant advantage is the convenience factor. There's no need to take time out of your busy schedule to drive to a detailing shop and wait for the service to be completed. The professionals come to you, whether you're at home, work, or any other location in Manchester, saving you time and hassle.

Customized Services

Mobile car detailers offer a range of packages and can tailor their services to suit your vehicle's specific needs and your personal preferences. Whether you're looking for a basic exterior wash or a comprehensive interior and exterior detailing, you can choose the level of service that's right for you.

Professional Results

Professional detailers have the expertise, tools, and products to achieve results that go beyond what you can typically achieve with DIY cleaning. They can effectively address issues like tough stains, pet hair, and odors, leaving your car looking and smelling fresh.

Preservation of Vehicle Value

Regular detailing helps maintain the vehicle's condition, preserving its value over time. This is particularly important for those looking to sell their car in the future, as a well-maintained vehicle can command a higher price.

Choosing the Right Mobile Car Detailing Service in Manchester

When selecting a mobile car detailing service in Manchester, consider the following factors:

Experience and Reputation:

Look for a service with a solid track record and positive customer reviews. Experienced detailers are more likely to deliver the high-quality results you're seeking.

Insurance and Licensing:

Ensure the company is fully insured and licensed to operate in Manchester. This protects you in case of any accidental damage during the detailing process.

Detailing Packages and Pricing:

Compare the services and pricing of different providers to find the best value. Be wary of prices that seem too good to be true, as they may indicate lower quality service.

Eco-friendliness:

Given the growing concern for the environment, consider choosing a service that uses eco-friendly cleaning products and practices.

For More Info:-

Mobile Car detailing

Mobile full valet

[douglashallkennels]

Yorkshire Terrier Grooming: Keeping that Signature Coat Beautiful

Are you ready to welcome a Yorkshire Terrier into your life, with those irresistible puppy dog eyes and a coat that's just as charming? Whether you have already found a Yorkshire Terrier for sale in Leeds or are in the process of getting one, you are in for a delightful journey of pet ownership. These tiny pups are known for their stunning, silky fur, which is truly iconic.

But, as any Yorkie owner knows, maintaining that signature coat takes some dedication. Here, we are going to delve into the world of Yorkshire Terrier grooming, sharing tips and tricks to ensure that your furry friend's coat stays as beautiful as the day you first met.

Brush, Brush, Brush

The Yorkshire Terrier's coat is a showstopper, but it requires regular attention. Daily brushing is a must to prevent matting and to keep the fur looking its best. A slicker brush or pin brush is ideal for their long, fine hair. Start from the tips and work your way up to the roots, gently removing any tangles or debris.

2. Bath Time is Essential

Yorkies may not be the most enthusiastic swimmers, but regular baths are crucial to maintaining their coat. If you are looking for a Yorkshire Terrier for sale in Manchester, understand that you have to spend some money on high-quality dog shampoo and conditioner, ensuring their skin doesn't dry out.

3. Trimming and Grooming

Professional grooming for your Yorkshire Terrier is an excellent investment. A groomer can expertly trim your Yorkie's coat to maintain its iconic appearance. If you'd like to do it yourself, be prepared to learn the art of scissoring and clipping or investing in a good pair of grooming shears.

Do you know? The estimated size of the UK Pet Grooming Market reached US$ 524.4 million in 2022, with an expected compound annual growth rate of 5.7% from 2022 to 2032. This substantial figure reflects the widespread interest in dog grooming, and it's a sign of how much care and attention pet owners are willing to invest in their beloved furry companions. (Source: https://www.globenewswire.com/)

4. Protect from the Elements

When winter rolls around, it is essential to protect your Yorkie from the cold and damp. If you have a plan to buy one Yorkshire Terrier for sale in Manchester, you should know that British weather can be unpredictable. Invest in doggy sweaters and coats to keep them warm during walks.

This content was originally published on: Douglas Hall Kennels LTD

This has been republished with permission.

Original Source: https://www.douglashallkennels.co.uk/dogs/yorkshire-terrier-grooming-keeping-that-signature-coat-beautiful/

[kevaclinics]

Tattoo Removal in Coimbatore: The Ultimate Guide

Keva Skin and Hair Clinic: Leading the Way in Tattoo Removal

Coimbatore, the bustling metropolis often dubbed the "Manchester of South India", is renowned not just for its textile and industrial prowess, but also as a growing hub for state-of-the-art aesthetic treatments. At the forefront of this transformation is the Keva Skin and Hair Clinic, a name synonymous with excellence in the realm of tattoo removal.

Unparalleled Expertise at the Best Tattoo Removal Clinic in Coimbatore

Nestled in the heart of the city at No:93, 1st Floor Sri, Narasimha Chambers, Thiruvenkatasamy Rd W, R.S. Puram, the Keva Skin and Hair Clinic boasts an unrivaled expertise in the domain. Being a Top-rated Tattoo Removal Clinic in Coimbatore, the clinic's dedication to client satisfaction is evident in every procedure performed.

The Process: Safe, Efficient, and Effective

When it comes to tattoo removal, the approach matters. At Keva, they employ advanced techniques to ensure minimal discomfort while maximizing results. Their treatments are tailored to suit the specific needs of every client, taking into account factors like the tattoo's age, size, and ink colors.

The Team: Seasoned Specialists at Your Service

A pivotal factor behind Keva's stellar reputation is its team of skilled professionals. With years of experience under their belts, these specialists ensure that every client receives the utmost care, ensuring a seamless and satisfactory tattoo removal experience.

Post-Treatment Care: The Keva Difference

The journey doesn't end once the tattoo removal process is over. Keva stands out for its holistic approach, which includes meticulous post-treatment care. The clinic provides detailed guidance to ensure that the treated area heals properly, preventing any potential complications.

Client Testimonials: Stories of Transformation

Over the years, countless individuals have entrusted Keva with their tattoo removal needs. The glowing testimonials attest to the clinic's prowess. "Choosing Keva Skin and Hair Clinic was the best decision I ever made. Not only is my unwanted tattoo a thing of the past, but the entire process was smoother than I ever imagined!" shares a delighted client.

Why Choose Keva Skin and Hair Clinic?

The reasons are manifold:

Expertise: Keva's team of professionals have been in the industry for years, accumulating invaluable experience.

Tailored Treatments: Recognizing the unique nature of every tattoo, the clinic offers treatments customized to each client.

Cutting-Edge Technology: The clinic prides itself on utilizing the latest in tattoo removal technology, ensuring efficient and effective treatments.

Client-Centric Approach: At Keva, the client's well-being is paramount. This is evident in their detailed consultations and post-treatment care.

In Conclusion: Your Trust, Our Commitment

Embarking on a journey to erase a once-loved tattoo can be daunting. But with the Keva Skin and Hair Clinic by your side, rest assured you're in the best hands in Coimbatore. Their commitment to excellence, combined with their unparalleled expertise, makes them the top choice for anyone looking to part ways with their ink. 

Address Website

[estemedicalgroup]

Clear Skin, Clear Confidence: Manchester's Best Acne Facial Treatments

Introduction:

Acne is a common skin condition that affects people of all ages, causing not only physical discomfort but also impacting self-confidence and emotional well-being. In the pursuit of clear and healthy skin, many individuals seek professional acne facial in Manchester, a vibrant city in the UK, hosts various skincare centers offering specialized treatments for acne. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the top acne facial treatments available in Manchester, assess their benefits, and highlight their significance in improving skin health and confidence. By examining these treatments and their effectiveness, readers will gain valuable insights into the best options for achieving clear and radiant skin.

Understanding Acne and the Importance of Professional Treatment:

Acne is a skin condition that results from the clogging of hair follicles with oil and dead skin cells. This can lead to the formation of pimples, blackheads, whiteheads, and even cysts. Acne can be triggered by various factors, including hormonal changes, genetics, and environmental factors. While over-the-counter products may provide temporary relief, professional acne facial treatments offer a comprehensive and targeted approach to combat acne and its underlying causes.

The Benefits of Professional Acne Facial Treatments:

Targeted Solutions: Professional acne facial treatments are designed to address specific acne-related issues, such as excessive oil production, clogged pores, inflammation, and bacteria. These treatments focus on the root causes of acne, leading to more effective and long-lasting results.

Personalized Approach: Skincare professionals assess each client's unique skin type and acne severity to create personalized treatment plans. This tailored approach ensures that the treatment aligns with individual needs, leading to improved outcomes.

Deep Cleansing: Acne facials involve deep cleansing of the skin to remove impurities, excess oil, and dead skin cells. Thorough cleansing helps to unclog pores and prevent further acne breakouts.

Exfoliation and Cell Turnover: Acne facials often include exfoliation techniques that promote cell turnover, revealing fresh and healthy skin underneath. This process helps reduce the appearance of acne scars and blemishes.

Professional Guidance: Skincare professionals provide valuable advice on skincare routines, diet, and lifestyle changes that can contribute to managing acne and preventing future breakouts.

Manchester's Best Acne Facial Treatments:

Microdermabrasion: Microdermabrasion is a popular non-invasive treatment that involves exfoliating the skin using fine crystals or a diamond-tipped wand. This procedure helps remove dead skin cells, unclog pores, and stimulate collagen production, resulting in smoother and clearer skin.

Chemical Peels: Chemical peels involve applying a chemical solution to the skin, which causes the top layers to peel off, revealing fresh skin underneath. This treatment helps to improve skin texture, reduce acne scars, and unclog pores.

High-Frequency Treatment: High-frequency treatment uses electrical currents to kill acne-causing bacteria and reduce inflammation. It also aids in improving blood circulation and promoting faster healing of acne lesions.

LED Light Therapy: LED light therapy utilizes different wavelengths of light to target specific skin concerns, including acne. Blue light is used to kill bacteria, while red light promotes healing and reduces inflammation.

Extraction and Facial Massage: Professional acne facials often include manual extraction of blackheads and whiteheads to clear pores effectively. Facial massages are also incorporated to enhance blood flow and promote relaxation.

Conclusion:

Acne facial treatments offer individuals in Manchester a pathway to clear and confident skin. The targeted solutions and personalized approaches provided by skincare professionals make these treatments highly effective in managing acne and improving skin health. By choosing from a variety of options such as microdermabrasion, chemical peels, high-frequency treatment, LED light therapy, and manual extraction, clients can address their specific acne concerns and achieve lasting results.

The benefits of professional acne facial treatments extend beyond surface-level improvements, impacting overall well-being and self-esteem. By seeking the expertise of skincare professionals and committing to a comprehensive treatment plan, individuals can enjoy clear skin and renewed confidence.

[hairgrowthcentre]

How many days of rest needed after hair transplant surgery?

The most often requested question following a hair transplant is "How many days of rest are needed after hair transplant surgery." Patients have clear evidence of surgery and are curious about the hair transplant recovery procedure.

You should hold off on returning to your regular duties until the fifth day regardless of whether you are a working person, a student, a stay-at-home parent, or a retiree. But if you must go, wait at least 10 days to be sure you are completely healed and show no indications of surgery (redness and scabbing). if you are looking for best hair transplant London you search ends here at HGC.

What are the primary aftercare suggestions for hair transplants?

Here are some general post-hair transplant care suggestions:-

Relax as much as you can and give your body time to recover.

Use a cap to protect your hair and hide your transplant.

After your surgery, avoid direct sunlight on the scalp for two weeks. Sunburn is brought on by direct sunshine, which also harms newly inserted hair.

It is harmful to the finely placed hair to have to wear a tight-fitting hat to work. It is advised to take two weeks off from this kind of employment.

The ideal time to wait before going back to work is 10 to 14 days.

How is the post-hair transplant surgery?

The common misconception is that hair will begin to grow right away following a hair transplant. Some people may have to wait for two to three months because it is a lengthy process. We suggest that you remain calm and patient at this time. Hair transplant clinic Manchester have the best experienced doctors.

Recovery from FUE is rather quick because the incisions are only millimeter-sized. One may feel some swelling or soreness for the first three days, but it will go away sooner. The surgical site will be inflamed and have some scabs where the grafts were applied. The outward signs of surgery will start to disappear 5 to 10 days after the procedure. Although hair loss is common, do not panic. This is a typical step in the procedure. The majority of people will start to notice a difference in hair growth in 3–4 months.A hairtransplant clinic in Birmingham can help patients who are looking for a solution to baldness, thinning hair, and other scalp issues. By providing quality care and expert procedures

How strictly you adhere to the aftercare and recovery instructions will determine whether your hair transplant is successful. Attend the follow-up with a commitment.

How long must I recover after having a hair transplant?

If possible, try to return to work 10 days after receiving a hair transplant. You will have totally recovered from surgery and just mild indications of redness and scabbing by the end of this time. The length of the break is determined by the kind of work they do.

Why and how should you rest prior to having a hair transplant?

To avoid moving any recently implanted grafts, it takes two weeks for them to completely integrate into the scalp after a hair transplant.

An operation is a hair transplant. The body grows weary. Thus, getting some rest will hasten your recovery.

You should continue to refrain from shampooing at this stage of the healing process and concentrate on removing any scabs or dried skin with care. Hair restoration Manchester will make sure that the treatment they give you will have the best results.

After your hair transplant, stay away from high-impact exercise until all follicles have healed before starting again.

The recipient area must be kept away from the pillow, and there must be no direct touch between your newly transplanted hair and the pillowcase, even while you are sleeping.

Your back should be straight as you rest, not on your stomach. Ensure that the head and neck are at a 45-degree angle.

Sleeping on your stomach will harm your transplanted hair and cause edoema, so please avoid doing so.

The head must be higher than the heart. The blood flow to the scalp area is lessened if you sleep in this position, which may result in swelling or bruises.

Take quick naps during the day instead than sleeping for extended amounts of time. Extended periods of sleep might put more strain on your scalp and delay healing. For more details visit hair transplant clinic Romford.