#hair replacement london

[hairgrowthcentre]

Hair Replacement London: Restoring Confidence Seamlessly

Nestled within the heart of the bustling city of London, where the intersection of fashion, trends, and lifestyle takes center stage, one’s appearance becomes a pivotal factor in shaping personal and professional success. However, for many individuals, the daunting reality of hair loss becomes a source of stress, impacting not only their physical appearance but also their self-esteem and overall well-being. Fortunately, within the diverse tapestry of this thriving metropolis, a spectrum of solutions has emerged to address this concern, with hair replacement in London standing out as a popular choice. In this comprehensive guide, we will meticulously explore the world of hair replacement London, dissecting the various methods, benefits, and considerations that together form the cornerstone for individuals seeking to regain not just lost hair but also their confidence.

[theonottsbxtch]

Stay with Me | LS2

a/n: it’s 4am, i’m sad and in bed so now you have to suffer with me smau + written | logan x ex!reader

fc: pinterest

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yn’s appartment - london 10:46pm

there was a faint knock at yn’s apartment door. for a moment, she found herself paralysed, sat at the kitchen island, knowing exactly who was on the other side. the memory of their public breakup, where tears had flowed freely and hearts had broken visibly, replayed in her mind. part of her wanted to leave him standing there, to make him feel the same abandonment she'd felt. yet, another part of her yearned to open the door and pretend that nothing had ever happened, to fall into the comfort of his arms as if the past four months hadn't been filled with silence and longing.

taking a deep breath, she set her phone down and cautiously approached the door. she hesitated, her heart pounding as she checked the peephole. the sight she glimpsed through the small glass circle made her stomach twist. twisting the lock with trembling fingers, she pulled the door open, and the sight before her took her breath away. logan stood there, a shadow of the man she remembered. his once vibrant, playful eyes were now red and bloodshot, a faded grey hoodie hanging loosely over an old band tee she’d given him. his hair was disheveled, and he looked worn, as though the world had beaten him down.

seeing him like this, so vulnerable and broken, she couldn't stop herself. she stepped forward, her heart aching, and wrapped her arms around him. the familiar scent of him, mixed with a hint of cologne and something distinctly him, flooded her senses. just like the old days, his head dropped onto her shoulder, and she instinctively reached up, running her fingers through his messy blonde hair. ut felt both foreign and familiar, a bittersweet reminder of what they once had.

gently, she pulled him inside, closing and locking the door behind them, her eyes darting around to ensure no one had seen him enter. the last thing she needed was another media frenzy. as logan stepped further into the apartment, he looked around, a ghost haunting a place that had once been his home. the room felt different, colder, as if his absence had sucked the warmth out of it.

"i heard what happened," yn broke the heavy silence, her voice soft. logan turned to face her, his eyes searching hers for something, perhaps forgiveness or understanding. she resisted the urge to close the distance between them again, to hold him and never let go. "i’m sorry."

logan let out a bitter laugh, the sound void of any real humor. "it was bound to happen," he muttered, his voice thick with resignation. the way he said it, as if the way he'd been treated was something he deserved, made her chest tighten.

"it doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel shit about it," she replied, her voice firmer. she hated seeing him like this, so defeated and hopeless.

he looked down at his feet, the once pristine trainers now scuffed and dirty. he fiddled with his phone in his pocket, avoiding her gaze. "i was going to get replaced anyway," he mumbled, as if trying to convince himself that it was true.

she shook her head, frustration slightly bubbling up inside her. "logan, that's not—"

"i came to apologise," he interrupted, finally looking up at her. the vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much to bear. "four months later?" she asked, a mix of disbelief and hurt in her voice. she had waited for so long, clinging to hope, and now he was here, apologising as if that could undo the pain.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture she knew all too well. "i..." he struggled for words, his voice breaking slightly. "yeah. i’m sorry it took so long. i just... didn't know how to face you after everything."

as logan stood there, searching yn’s face for any sign of what she was feeling, he suddenly looked away, his shoulders slumping. the weight of everything seemed to press down on him, and he ran a hand through his messy hair, letting out a shaky breath.

"yn," he began, his voice raw and unsteady, "everything in my life has been falling apart. not just with us... but with everything." he looked back at her, his eyes tired. "racing, the friends, my family... it's all gone to shit. and i kept thinking, if i could just hold it together, i could find a way to fix it all."

she felt a pang of sympathy, her frustration momentarily overshadowed by concern. "logan, you don't have to—"

he shook his head, cutting her off. "no, i do. i need you to understand." his voice cracked, and he took a step closer, as if drawn to her by some invisible force. "you were the only one who ever really understood me. the only one who saw me for who i am, not just what I could be or what I failed at. i pushed you away because i was scared, but i always knew you were the one person who got me."

tears welled up in yn’s eyes as she listened to him, her heart aching for the pain he was clearly feeling. she wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but she stayed rooted in place, struggling with her own emotions.

logan’s voice broke as he continued, his words spilling out in a rush. "i know i don't deserve you back. i don't expect you to forgive me or to want me in your life again. but i couldn't live with myself if i didn't tell you... i’m sorry. for everything. for hurting you, for being a coward, for not being the person you deserved."

he looked at her, his expression one of utter defeat. "i’m so, so sorry, yn. i don't know what to do without you. everything feels wrong, and i just... i just wanted you to know that."

before she could respond, logan’s composure crumbled. tears streamed down his face, and he let out a choked sob, his body shaking. the sight of him so broken and vulnerable broke down the last of her defenses. she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. he buried his face in her shoulder, his sobs muffled against her.

for a long moment, they stood there, holding each other. yn felt the warmth of his tears soaking into her shirt, and she stroked his back soothingly, her own tears silently falling. the pain and confusion of the past months seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced by a deep, shared sorrow.

logan clung to her as if she were his lifeline, his cries slowly subsiding into quiet sniffles. he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his eyes red and puffy. "thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "for listening. for being here. even if it's just for now... thank you."

yn nodded, wiping away a tear from his cheek. "you’re welcome," she replied softly. "but, logan... i can't promise anything. i need time to think about everything."

he nodded, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “i get it," he said, his voice steadying. "take all the time you need. i just... i just needed to tell you. and i hope... i hope you find the happiness you deserve, with or without me."

she looked into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and honesty there. taking a deep breath, she decided to share her own truth. "logan," she began, her voice trembling slightly, “i still love you. even after everything, i still love you. it just... it might take some time for me to figure out if we can really make this work again."

his eyes widened, hope and disbelief mingling in his expression. "you still love me?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

she nodded, her own tears starting to fall again. "yes, i do. but love alone isn't always enough. we need to rebuild trust, to heal from the past. and that takes time."

logan reached out and gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away her tears. "i’ll wait," he promised, his voice filled with a newfound determination. "i’ll do whatever it takes to prove that i can be the person you deserve. i don't expect it to be easy, but I'm willing to fight for us."

yn placed her hand over his, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the warmth of his touch. "we’ll see," she said softly, opening her eyes to meet his. "for now, let's just take it one step at a time."

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everyone needs a @/yourbestfriend in their life

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yourusername: yup

userthree: what’s that supposed to mean

userfour: not logan lurking in the likes

userfive: who got her those flowers

usersix: has she moved on?

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thank you for having me @/goodmorningbritain

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userone: he’s not back in the states for summer break?

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userfour: matcha >>>>

alex_albon: waiting for you to take me to that cafe you talk so highly of 😐

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surround yourself with the right people

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userone: preach

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yourusername: intertwining soullsssss

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recharging 🔋

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userthree: who’s here after having seen yn’s story?

userfour: 👀👀

alex_albon: mate help me lily wont stop flaunting that she got more fish

logansargeant: we’re both suffering

userfive: both? 👀

usersix: oh i fear he cleared all you haters with this post

userseven: i’m being delusional again

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love wins

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yourusername: thank you for everything

userfour: i crave a friendship like theirs

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yourusername: clearing my uni schedule as we speak

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userfive: my delusions were right

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userseven: mum and dad

usereight: now that they’re back together, everyone repeat after me FUCK WILLIAMS 🗣️

logansargeant: luckiest man ever

yourusername: i love you 🤍🩵

logansargeant: i love you more, there is no one i would want by my side more than you 🤍🩵

usernine: omw to my date with my shotgun!!

userten: got room for one more?

[ohcolinbridgerton]

red | colin bridgerton

summary: a childhood crush, a jealous colin & a red dress

warnings: none

word count: 3.1k

requests: open

masterlist

a/n: based off of a request i got, thanks so much for the anon!!! i loved your idea and hope you enjoy my interpretation of it. if anyone has any requests, send them my way i love writing these!! <3

-

From before Colin Bridgerton could even remember, Y/N had been a part of his life. 

He remembers the day they met as if it were only yesterday. It was a sunny afternoon, untypical from the usual London fog, and whilst Colin explored the village square, he was drawn in by the sound of laughter that he could only describe as the sweetest melody he had ever heard. Following the sound, he arrived at a small, flower-filled meadow just beyond the square. And there, amid the vibrant blooms and tall grass, he saw her—a girl in a scarlet red dress, her hair gleaming in the sunlight. She was chasing a blue butterfly, her laughter ringing out each time it flitted just beyond her reach. With sparkling eyes of delight and determination, her movement remained graceful yet free-spirited. Colin recalls watching, completely mesmerised as she twirled and leapt, the hem of her dress catching the breeze and fanning out like petals in full bloom, a perfect mirror of the daisies that surrounded her. 

His heart skipped a beat, a feeling he couldn't yet name blooming within him. He was only young when they met, and while he was certain he had experienced infatuation before, this felt completely different. It was as if one of the German fairytale books that his mother kept in the library had been opened and out had stepped this very girl, a princess engulfed in a sea of blossoms. 

Summoning his courage, Colin stepped forward, his small voice calling out, “Hello!”

The girl stopped and turned, her eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his cheeks flush. She smiled—a bright and infectious grin that made Colin’s heart flutter. “Hello!” she replied, her voice as cheerful as her laughter. “I’m Y/N. Would you like to help me catch this butterfly?”

Colin nodded eagerly, his shyness melting away in the face of her open friendliness. He remembers it being so easy to make a friend at his young age, and he often wondered if they had met years later, if they would still have warmed to each other as they did that day. He likes to think they would. 

Together, they darted through the meadow, their laughter mingling as they chased the elusive butterfly. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the meadow, they finally managed to catch the butterfly gently in Y/N’s cupped hands. They marvelled at its delicate wings, a symbol of their newfound friendship. 

That day was a very special day for Colin.

By the time they reached their late teens, Colin knew his feelings for Y/N had only continued to grow into something much deeper than mere friendship. He loved everything about her: the way her eyes sparkled with joy, her radiant smile, her sharp wit, and their shared love for literature and exploration. Yet he kept his feelings hidden, fearing that revealing them might disrupt the delicate balance of their bond. A bond he feared could never be replaced if broken.

The very feelings he tried to hide so desperately occupied his every thought, however. Every little thing he did reminded him of her somehow, and every sight of her was enough to cause him to lose his ability to breathe. He was like a dramatic debutante swooning over a Lord; he was sure that he was near swooning every time she was in his presence. With such feelings weighing on his mind, Colin thought it would be best if he had a distraction, and so he decided to act on his desire to travel the world. And so, at the age of two and twenty, he planned to leave the Ton in search of a diversion from the feelings in his heart. 

It was a cold evening when Colin decided to tell her of his plans to travel. They were sitting on the wooden swing that hung off of a tree on the Bridgerton grounds—a swing set that they had often found themselves on in all their years of friendship. The sunset had painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over Y/N’s face. She was talking animatedly about a new novel she’d started reading, her eyes shining with excitement. 

Colin watched her, his heart swelling with affection. He loved how passionate she got about things she cared about. He loved the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. He loved her.

“Colin, are you listening to me?” Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Yes, apologies,” he said, tearing his gaze away from her. “I was lost in my thoughts.”

She smiled, nudging him playfully. “You do that a lot.”

“Yes,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose I do.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the rustling leaves and distant birdsong. In that very moment, Colin wanted nothing more than to tell her, to pour out his heart and confess his feelings, but the words stuck in his throat, and his train of thought was paused by her exclamation. 

“Colin, you must read this book! The heroine is so bold and spirited, much like Elizabeth Bennett,” she said, her smile infectious.

Colin smiled back, his heart aching with unspoken words. “I shall, Y/N. Your recommendations never disappoint.”

Colin opened his own book of poetry, reading aloud one of his favourite verses. His voice was steady, but inside, emotions churned like a tempest.

When he finished, she looked at him, her gaze soft. “You have a way with words, Colin. You always make everything sound so beautiful.”

He felt a blush creep up his neck. “It is the words themselves that are beautiful. I am merely the voice.”

Y/N laughed, a sound that filled Colin with warmth. “Ever so modest.”

As the afternoon waned, they lay side by side on the soft grass, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Colin turned his head to look at Y/N’s, her face serene and thoughtful. She had always been so beautiful to him.

“Y/N,” he began hesitantly, “I must tell you something.”

“What is it?” she asked, her voice soft.

Colin took a deep breath. “I am leaving soon. I wish to travel around the world.’’

She gave him a wide smile, and his heart felt like it had deflated. He wasn’t sure why he expected her to be sad that he was leaving, especially when she had always been his biggest supporter in anything he ever wanted to do, yet it bruised him slightly, and he wondered if she’d even miss him. 

She leaned her head on his shoulder, a gesture that always made his heart race. ‘’I will miss you, but I am so proud of you.’’

“I will miss you too,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her. And he meant it. No matter what happened, he would always be there for her, even if it meant keeping his feelings to himself. ‘’Always.’’

As the stars began to appear and the sun began to set, Colin made a silent promise. He would cherish every last day they spent together before he left and take with him all the happiness she brought him, but once he returned, he would make these feelings go away, as for now, being her best friend was all he could be, and that was enough. 

-

Months had passed before Colin decided to return to the Ton. Over the time he spent away, he sent letters to nearly everyone that he thought might want to hear of his travels, but the only reply that seemed to matter to him was Y/N’s. His plan to distract himself had failed miserably, and his heart continued to race at the mere sight of her name written in ink: ‘Yours, Y/N’ as she’d always sign her letters. 

He decided after a few months that enough time had been spent away from his family and friends, so he made his way back to London just in time for the new season. Upon his return, he found himself in a predicament. Through whispers from his younger sisters, Eloise and Francessca, and the writings of Lady Whistledown, he had discovered that Y/N had been named the diamond of the season by Queen Charlotte herself, and it seemed that every eligible lord was vying for her attention. It was her second season out, and it was a rarity that the Queen would decide to choose someone who had already been accustomed to the dealings that came with being out in society; however, to Colin, it was no surprise that she had been named the diamond. She always sparkled, and she had always been like a rare jewel in his eyes.

He stood at the edge of the ballroom. He was yet to see her - with his late arrival in the day, he had missed the promenading that his family had done that morning so he hadn't had the chance to see her just yet. But he knew where to go looking, he knew the one place he’d definitely find her was on the dance floor—she was the diamond after all. 

His gaze stayed fixed on the entrance of the room, awaiting her arrival, and it wasn’t long before she arrived. Everyone’s eyes were on her as she stood at the top of the stairs. She was completely radiant in a red dress, the very same shade as the one Colin thought about every day. The colour of the dress she was wearing the day they met as she chased a butterfly around the meadows. 

The sight of her brought back a flood of memories, each one only amplifying the ache in his heart. He thought he might faint on the spot. His breath had hitched, and he knew that if he were drinking lemonade, he would have been sure to spit it out in complete and utter infatuation. He had travelled far and wide, seeking to distract himself from his feelings, but the sight of her in front of him was enough to make him fall to his knees. 

Colin watched, seething with jealousy, as Lord Fife and Lord Cho each flocked towards her in hopes of dancing. Y/N, ever the picture of grace and beauty, seemed to enjoy the attention, but Colin knew her well enough to see the subtle signs of uninterest that she felt for the Lord’s. She was never one to crave the attention of male suitors. Colin wasn’t even sure if she wanted to marry, but if she did, it was not something Colin was prepared to hear; it would break him after all. 

He could see her eyes studying the room, and in his heart, he hoped that she might have been looking for him, perhaps having heard of his return from his sisters or Whistledown. But it must have all been in his head as he watched her take the hand of Lord Fife and make their way to the dance floor, a chorus of violins following them. 

His heart ached as he watched her, the only woman who had effortlessly captured his affections, was dancing with Lord Fife. Her laughter was like a delicate melody that mingled with the strains of the waltz, her eyes glistening with a joy that seemed to light up the entire room. Colin's breath caught in his throat as he saw the way she smiled up at Lord Fife, her face alight with an expression he had hoped to see directed at himself.

Colin's grip tightened around the glass of lemonade he held, the stem of the glass pressing into his palm. He had always been confident and knew how to charm and engage those around him. But when it came to her, he felt a sense of vulnerability that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Lord Fife, with his impeccable manners and easy charm, seemed to be everything Colin was not. He was suave, sophisticated, and clearly taken with Y/N. Watching them together, Colin felt a pang of jealousy twist in his chest. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh and see her eyes light up with happiness because of him. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought that Fife had been the one making her laugh all the months he was away; he knew he should have never left. 

The music swelled to a crescendo, and the dancers moved with a fluid grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Y/N's gown, his favourite shade of red, swirled around her like a cloud, her movements light and graceful. Colin couldn't tear his eyes away from her; he couldn't stop the thoughts racing through his mind. What if he never got the chance to tell her how he felt? What if she chose Lord Fife over him? What if her happy ever after was with Fife and not him?

He watched as she bid Lord Fife goodbye and made her way through the crowd. As she did so, she attracted the attention of more suitors, each eager to win her favour. She flashed them a smile but continued to the table that held refreshments, parched from all the laughing and talking she’d done with someone who wasn't him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

The final straw came when he saw his own brother, Benedict, saunter up to Y/N with his usual charm and grace. His jealousy reached an all-time high as he watched Benedict lean in close to whisper something in Y/N’s ear, making her laugh. The sound, usually so delightful, the first harmonious tune he had ever heard from her, now felt like a dagger to his heart. 

Unable to bear it any longer, Colin pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked on Y/N and Benedict. “May I cut in?” he asked, his voice strained but firm.

Benedict, sensing the tension, smiled knowingly and stepped back, offering Y/N’s hand to Colin with a slight bow. All of the Bridgerton’s knew of Colin’s feelings for his best friend, and Benedict possessed no ill-intention when it came to Y/N, simply wanting to catch up with a family friend as they both sipped away at their lemonade. As he walked away from the pair, a smile formed on his lips. ‘Finally,’ he thought in his mind, perhaps it was the nudge Colin needed all this time. Unknowing to Colin, Benedict had been watching him watch Y/N the whole night and was certain he needed to intervene before Colin smashed his lemonade glass in his hand from how hard he gripped it in his hands. Brothers, what would you do without them.

Y/N looked up at Colin, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of confusion.

“Colin, what are you-?” she began, but he interrupted by taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

‘’Hello,’’ he said, his voice low and intense. ‘’I apologise for interrupting, but I had to speak to you.’’

‘’I’ve been here all night.’’ She sighed, her eyes furrowed as she watched Colin, his eyes falling to meet hers. ‘’Look at me. I’ve missed you, Colin.’’

He finally met her gaze, his blue eyes locking with hers. The sour taste that he’d had in his mouth from watching her dance with other men had gone at the sight of her face looking up at his. 

‘’I’ve missed you too.’’ He spoke as they moved slowly across the dance floor. 

‘’What’s wrong?’’ She said as she squeezed his hand, and he felt his heart leap. ‘’You’ve got that look on your face, the one you always get when you are lost with your thoughts.’’

He knew it was now or never. He could simply reply and tell her ‘it was nothing’ or he could be the proud man that his mother had raised him to be and finally confess the one thing to the only person that mattered most in his world. 

“I could not stand by and watch any longer,” Colin said, in shock that his words had even made it out of his mouth, his throat dry. “Seeing you with all those suitors, and then with Benedict, it drove me mad.”

Y/N gazed up at him, her expression softening. “Colin, I’ve wanted your attention the whole night. I’ve looked for you all night, but you have not seemed to notice me.’”

He pulled her closer ''I did notice you,'' his eyes searching for hers. “I notice you all the time. In every room we are ever in, you are the only one I ever notice. Your eyes, your smile, the way you make me laugh, our shared love for books and adventures, the red dress you're wearing tonight that reminds me of the very first time we met... I notice everything about you.’’ 

Tears glistened in Y/N’s eyes as she smiled up at him. ‘’You remember the dress I wore the very first day we met?’’

‘’That shade of red has been my favourite colour since the day we met. I promise you, when I say this Y/N, I notice everything about you. I remember everything about you. You occupy my every thought.’’

‘’Colin-.’’

‘’I have wanted to say these words to you for the last sixteen years, and I realise it might be too late. I do not know how you feel about Lord Fife or Benedict for that matter, but I can only hope you are not serious about him because I would like it if it were me you were serious about, for I am serious about you, and another day without you-’’

‘’Colin. Stop talking and breathe for a moment,’’ she said softly, her voice steady. ‘’I am not serious about Lord Fife and I am most definitely not serious about Benedict, he's like a brother to me. I never have been. The only person I have spent every day longing for is you, and I have missed you dearly every day that you have been away. You say you notice everything about me, but I, too, notice everything about you. Your kindness, wit, caring nature—it is everything I have missed since you have been gone. You are the only person I have ever been serious about in my life. The only one.’’

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. 

Colin was sure his heart was about to collapse, and he was surprised his feet were still carrying him through their dance. 

"Y/N..."

She smiled—a beautiful, radiant smile that made his heart skip a beat. "I'm glad you told me, Colin. I have been waiting for this very moment for the last sixteen years.’’

"I should have told you sooner," he whispered, leaning into her further. Had it not been for the fact that they were dancing in the Queen’s very ballroom, he was certain he would have kissed her there and then. 

"Better late than never," she replied with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Colin knew that he would never again let any more time come between them. They had wasted enough of it, and now they had a lifetime ahead of them to make up for it.

‘’Colin…’’ Y/N spoke softly, her eyes still fixed on his.

‘’Yes?’’ 

‘’I want you to know I wore this dress just for you. Your favourite shade of red.’’

-

a/n: hope you all enjoyed. the anon i received was such a lovely request and i hope that i've done it justice. thanks for reading!!!

[russo-woso]

How could you? Part 2

If you haven’t read part 1, I’d suggest reading it first. It might make it a bit clearer.

It had been years since you last spoke to Alessia.

You’d seen her since, of course.

I mean, with you playing for Chelsea, playing Arsenal was a big match.

But since the divorce, the matches got even more climatic.

Both teams got even more aggressive, your teammates wanting revenge on Alessia for what they did to you, and Alessia’s teammates getting back at your own.

The pitch turned into a boxing ring when it was blue vs red.

But at the same time, you hated playing Arsenal because you had to play against your ex-wife and your current fiancé.

Your current fiancé, Arsenal’s own, Leah Williamson.

You didn’t seem to leave the house after the divorce, only leaving for things you had to, such as training and matches, but when you were invited to a charity event, there was no way you could say no.

And you were glad you didn’t because you met the love of your life that night.

You were aware that other footballers had been invited but you weren’t aware that Arsenal royalty had been invited.

You remember that night so clearly, you don��t think you’ll ever forget it.

After walking the red carpet, you found your assigned seat, next to Leah.

“Oh no, not you. I’m allergic to Chelsea players. I’m gonna die.” Leah exaggerated, clearly joking.

You rolled your eyes at her before responding, “Oh so dramatic. Why are you here as a footballer? You should be with all the actors, Williamson.”

“Yeah and you should be at church praying that we don’t batter you in two weeks.”

“Oh, really? I don’t think it’s me that should be praying.” You said back, a genuine smile resting on your face.

“You look good in red. You should switch to the right side of London.” Leah pointed out, changing the subject. You were wearing a red dress whereas Leah was wearing a suit that hugged her figure.

“Thank you, but I’m a blue through and through and anyway, I wouldn’t go to arsenal. Not when she still plays there. But you look good too.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Alessia.” Leah apologised, her eyes softened as she rested a hand on your back.

“You don’t have to say sorry. You have a past and a future for a reason. She’s my past, I’m just looking for a future now.” You explained to Leah

“Although you’re a blue, You deserve someone who can make you happy.”

“Hmm, have someone in mind?”

“Maybe.” Leah sent a smirk over to you and a blush took over your cheeks.

The night carried on, flirtatious comments and touches from both of you.

It was safe to say that you didn’t end up in your own bed that night.

From that night onwards, Alessia was your past and Leah was your future.

And when you saw Leah more and more, you slowly forgot about Alessia.

Memories you made with Alessia got replaced with memories made with Leah.

The best memory happened two years after the charity event.

Leah took you to Greece on holiday and on the final night, she got down on one knee and made you hers.

————————

“My girls going to England camp today.” Leah mumbled into your temple before pressing a kiss there.

Your eyes flutters open and you smiled at the sight of Leah cuddling you.

You had received your first England call up from Sarina for the international friendliest coming up.

You had worked so hard over the past couple of months that you knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Leah was by your side as soon as your phone rang.

You got off the phone from Sarina and Leah tackled you into a hug, placing kisses all over your face.

To say she was proud was an understatement.

“I’m nervous about it, Le.” You admitted to her, tears welling in your eyes.

“Why you nervous, pretty girl?” Leah looked at you, concern written on her face. She stroked loose hair out of your face and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m scared I won’t be good enough. And seeing less again. I’ll be playing with her this time.” You admitted and Leah cradled you in her arms.

“My girl, you have nothing to worry about. You are such a good player. You’ve scored 9 goals for the c word this season and we’re only half way through the season. And you don’t have to worry about Alessia. You’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“Time to get up?” Leah asked and you replied by cuddling into her chest even more. “I’m taking that as a no.”

————————

As captain, Leah had an advantage when it came to rooming people together.

Normally, couples weren’t allowed to room with each other, but Leah made sure that you and her were together.

You and Leah unpacked your things before heading down to the lobby, hand in hand.

“Here’s the love birds. How have you been Y/N? How’s Leah been treating you?” Kiera asked, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m great, thanks, kie. Leah’s been incredible, like always. How are you? How’s the Spanish weather been treating you?”

“It’s amazing. You can move there, I can put in a good word for you.” Lucy offered, joining the conversation, but Leah was quick to refuse it for you.

“As much as I hate seeing her play in blue, she’s not moving away from me. She’s staying in London.”

“I’ll never move away Le. I’ll never leave.” You giggled at her protectiveness.

“I’ll never leave either.”

You pressed a kiss to her lips. When you broke apart, you turned to face Kiera and Lucy but when their eyes widened, you followed their gaze and saw her standing there.

“Alessia, hi.” You said, awkwardly, panicking a bit but as soon as you felt Leah’s hands squeezing yours, you calmed down.

“Hi. Do you mind if I quickly talk to you? I know you’ve got lots of introductions to do and probably a whole lot of media. And the fact that you probably don’t want to talk to—” Alessia’s voice got quieter the more she rambled on which made a small smile appear on your face. She hadn’t changed at all.

“Less, of course I’ll talk to you.” You said and turned to face Leah, placing a kiss to her cheek. “I won’t be long, baby.”

You followed Alessia round the corner just so you were somewhere a bit more private.

“It’s good to see you, you look good.” Alessia broke the silence that had overtaken you Both.

“Thanks. I am good. How are you?”

“I’m also good. I just…I didn’t want this camp to be awkward between us. I never got the chance to formally apologise. I’m sorry, Y/N. And I know that you’ll probably never forgive me, but I just want to know that you don’t hate me.” Alessia explained her reasons for wanting to talk to you. You could tell she was panicking so you rested a hand on back, gently rubbing it to calm her down.

“Less, I’ll forgive you. I forgave you the day I met Leah. But it doesn’t mean I’ll never forget it. I think me and you, we weren’t meant to be for each other. We got married young. We didn’t have the chance to explore anything. I’ll never forget you and me. You were my first everything so you’ll always have a place in my heart. I could never hate you Alessia. Not even a bit.” You told her, tears starting to stream down her face. “Hey, no crying. It’s all in the past. Come on, say it with me.”

“It’s all in the past.” Alessia and you said together as she let out a laugh and wiped her tears away.

“There we go. Now, no awkwardness between us, okay? You’re my friend, less. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Less smiles and you brought her in for a hug.

“My god, Leah’s scary when she stares into your soul.” Alessia announced as she looked past you and saw Leah starting at the encounter.

You turned around and sent Leah a look, her face immediately softening and a smile was sent your way.

“You broke Leah, you know. Everyone says it. One day she was this woman who always frowned. It’s like she had a curse on her, and then she comes into training and she all smiles. You broke the curse.” Alessia said, and you smiled at Leah who was catching up with Georgia.

“She makes me so happy.” You admitted and Alessia smiled at you.

“I’m glad.”

“How’s you and Cooney-Cross?”

“We’re good. I’m planning on proposing to her next month.” Alessia revealed and you hugged her once more.

“That’s amazing, less. See, this is why we weren’t meant for each other. We both had other people out there for us. Leah’s my happy ever after, and Kyra’s yours. I never thought these words would leave my mouth, but I’m happy for you lessi. I wish you, and Cooney-Cross all the best.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I wish you and Leah all the best too. You deserve someone who treats you with respect and gives you all the happiness in the world. I’m just sorry I didn’t.” Alessia apologised again and you nodded your head, accepting the apology.

“Right, enough apologies. Let’s start fresh. Hi, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” You put your hand out and Alessia giggled before shaking it.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Alessia.”

“Nice to meet you, Alessia.”

————————

“How did the conversation with less go?” Leah asked as you laid your head on her chest.

It had been such a hectic afternoon full of introductions, that you didn’t get to catch Leah up on the conversation.

“It’s went perfect. Better than perfect. She apologised, about a million times, I told her that I’d forgiven her. I mean, I did as soon as I saw you at that event. We got talking about you and Kyra. We both agreed that you’re our futures. And we introduced ourselves all over again, as if we’d never met each other before. Alessia will always be my past, you will always be my present and my future.” You explained to Leah and she pressed a kiss to your head.

“I love you so much, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, le.”

————————

“…You are my present and my future, Leah. I love you so much.” You finished, tears flowing down your cheeks as you stared into Leah’s eyes.

“I may now present you wives. You may kiss the bride.”

Leah leaned in and connected your lips.

The memories built up over the years playing in your head.

When you first met Leah, your first date, your first kiss, when you were able to call Leah’s house yours, when she was down on one knee, and now, when you broke apart from the kiss and Leah knelt down and kissed your stomach.

All your family and friends cheered.

It was your first time announcing the pregnancy.

You wanted to wait until you were 12 weeks, and it just so happened that it fell on your wedding day.

Leah stood back up, a massive smile on her face, and connected your lips once again.

“My future.” You whispered against Leah’s lips, a hand on your small bump, and an identical smile taking over your face.

“I love you, my girl, and my prince or princess.”

[myeagleexpert]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕘𝕠 𝕠𝕟

Yan!Batfamily x Singer!YN (neglected) Inspired by @@gotham-daydreams's fic, your work is wonderful and makes me think about many things…. One of the things I think about is if they found Reader from her music….

Summary: Despite everything, the show must go on. Warnings: Mention of healing processes, Reader has a trigger in the middle of an important show Mention: Reader as YN, Dick Grayson, Friend!Reader Note: This fic takes place before the events of Not [ ], before they meet Reader and become yandere because of her. Check out and value the original author's work, it's a very complete and interesting fic! < 3 You can find more of this here

“YN! YN! YN!” the crowd screamed her name, the fans excited to see their favorite idol, wanting more of her performance.

The makeup artist was applying the final touches to her vibrant makeup while the hair stylist was reshaping the curls of her wig. The final touches before going on stage again while they were backstage.

“Everyone loved your performance! They’re screaming for you out there!” says one of the dancers excitedly

“The last song was amazing, YN! We can feel the energy here!” praises the makeup artist while touching up the glitter in her eye

“Aaaah that’s great! I’m not nervous like last time so it’s good to see it’s working out!” Yn says while drinking water, her first times on stage had been shy and awkward, but after overcoming that initial barrier today she performs with confidence, dancing and interacting with the audience masterfully.

“1 minute to get back on stage guys!” one of the organizers warned, making everyone there, including YN, mentally prepare for yet another amazing choreography.

You can do it, YN! she started to motivate herself mentally while reviewing the next song.

“M ama ma i make my own mantra……”

Ow, the broccoli loved this song! My broccoli like the choreography!

“30 seconds!”

I should have run for my music career before, the broccolis supported me from the beginning, why did it take me so long to do this?

“20 seconds!”

Ow….. I remembered, because of them…… just thinking about everything that happened at Wayne Manor, YN's vibe and mood drop, the magazine cover smile is replaced by a blank look and under eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“10 seconds!”

Why am I thinking about them now? They don't even deserve to be in my thoughts. It's showtime, Yn, focus!

“3….2….1”

“Time to go on stage! It’s showtime!” the crew starts cheering and clapping with YN, getting into the festive show mood as they enter the stage

“WHATS UPS BROCCOLISSS?!” YN excitedly greets them through the microphone, the audience goes wild, screaming and raising the show props.

The house is full, today the show is in one of the biggest concert venues in London, with all the floors packed and the VIP area swarming with important people, reporters, cameras, today is a success! YN’s costume shines and stands out in the dark house, with sparkles and sequins that reflect the light in shades of pink and blue, the wig sets her apart like an anime protagonist and the dancers dance with expression and boldness. It's at these times that YN feels on top of the world, not out of arrogance but out of belonging… this is her place, this is what she does best. Her heart is full of joy as she jumps choreographing with the dancers, she feels light even when she sings with all her body and soul. And it's exactly at these moments, when life likes to poke at the wound…

Amidst the lights of the place while YN was catching her breath, she saw out of the corner of her eye, among the many people in the stands, a person suspiciously similar to him… Dick Grayson. The breath she was trying to recover to get into the next part of the song gets stuck in her throat as she remains paralyzed while searching for that man in the crowd.

"It's not possible… it can't be him… not today!"

Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's eldest son, the first Robin, the boy prodigy… these are some of the names and titles he received throughout his life, but all YN wanted to call him was brother. His image was warm and kind, always hugging the other brothers and helping the new Robins adapt, transforming this time with them into something familiar and a memory to keep in the colorful albums of the mind… but why not me? Why does everyone have the right to his charming smile while I am left with the stiff back of ignorance? Why could everyone spend time with him while I was always the last option?

Why? Why? Why?

And unexpectedly, Yn was no longer a confident singer on the path to success, she was a defenseless and insecure girl who sought affection from her brother. She felt transported to the terrible mansion again in a state of agonizing nostalgia, where her small hands tried to intertwine with his with hope… only for him to let go of her hand with a not very disguised look of disgust.

“Oh YN, I can't stay with you now! I have to go to patrol!” With an unapologetic smile, Dick entered the movie theater where his friends from the Teen Titans were for one of their many hang outs.

Yn knew she didn't have the love of Bruce, her father, but was she so terrible that she didn't deserve her brother's affection?

“Can I really call you brother?”

No, you don't deserve it.

At that moment, little voices in her head conspired with YN. Imposter Syndrome? Who knows? She seemed to be slowly succumbing to the many memories of the mansion, the turned backs and the disgusted eyes, the neglect, the cruelty, the shadows in the corner of the smallest room in the house that seemed to be the only refuge besides Alfred himself, who, despite having done everything in his power, still did not fill the emptiness that the girl felt…

Walls full of gold, silver and bronze medals and trophies from various sports, records and photos with important people would be enough to make anyone feel proud of the honors and merits conquered with their own sweat. But for the innocent girl, they were just poor failed plans to get the family's attention. It is no wonder that, when she left the mansion, she left her belongings and the glories of her childhood in the same room without looking back, with the idea of ​​a new path to be taken.

"YN, you go in now." The manager said through the singer's earpiece, counting the seconds for her to enter the chorus……but she didn't enter "YN?"

She was thinking too much, lost in thought, thinking too much……

Why wasn't it enough? Why wasn't I enough? Why? Why?

"YN, are you okay?"

Why was I so lonely? Why didn't anyone want to play with me?

With great skill, the singer next to YN pulled a remix for the two's song when he realized that something was wrong while the stage management called YN backstage, she went there on robotic stages with her hand on the communicator, making the audience think it had just been a technical problem. They got her water and sat her in a chair.

ł ₮ⱤłɆĐ ₴Ø Ⱨ₳ⱤĐ ₮Ø ₲Ɇ₮ ₵ⱠØ₴Ɇ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ₥, ł ₮ⱤłɆĐ ₴Ø Ⱨ₳ⱤĐ ₣ØⱤ ₮ⱧɆ₥… ₴Ø ₩ⱧɎ ₩₳₴₦'₮ ł₮ Ɇ₦ØɄ₲Ⱨ? ₩ⱧɎ ₵ØɄⱠĐ₦'₮ ₮ⱧɆɎ Ⱨ₳VɆ ₵Ø₥Ɇ?

"YN, are you okay?" the manager asked, he had been with YN since she started taking her first baby steps in her music career, it was a worrying scene to see her cold and without answering a word, he frowned as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder “YN… we are here with you, what is going on?”

₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ

“Why?…” she murmured, frowning as she looked up, still lost in old memories and some random point on the ceiling. The confused manager turned his head slightly, confused about what she was talking about.

Friend!Reader, who was nearby and recognized what was happening, as he had been by her side several times when this happened, approached and told the manager that he would take care of her.

“Hey, Earth to YN, what happened there?” he said, hugging YN, she didn’t return the hug, she just stayed leaning against him like a corpse.

“Friend!Reader…?”

“Yes, YN?” he asked

“Why, Friend!Reader…… why not me?” and with whispered words she buried her face in Friend!Reader's shoulders, as she let herself be carried away by the contained emotions and he hugged her trembling form tighter.

The wound that was beginning to heal was opening again, like a bandage aggressively ripped off a skin that was being reconstructed. The wound in her mind pulsed with a constant pain, a memory of something that had never been completely healed. Like a poorly made scar on her skin, the pain was a constant reminder of something that no matter how much she tried to ignore it and start from scratch, it still hadn't been resolved.

Like medicines that have a set time until the end of their effect and at some point, the pain returns, that was Yn's focus while she convinced herself that everything was fine and that she had overcome the situation…. sooner or later the effect wears off, and the pain returns. But while she tried to heal, each emotional trigger seemed to rip the wound open again, causing uncomfortable and uneasy feelings…

“I saw one of them, Friend! Reader… I'm not sure, but… I know I saw him! In the corner of the show, my show….” she whispered to him, almost in tears

“Calm down, YN, let's talk about this…”

“He was there! I'm sure the others must be there too… laughing at me, saying I'm not good enough to be on stage… or maybe, maybe he doesn't even recognize me, you know?”

“That's enough, YN!” said the friend, shaking the singer by the shoulders. He hated seeing her like that, so insecure and fragile. “You can stop right there!”

“You're one of the best people I know, and my best friend! You're really good at what you do, you have an excellent voice and you dance really well! YOU'RE AMAZING!” He continued with a smile on his face “And if a family of rich kids didn’t know how to recognize that in you, that’s their problem! Screw them! If I ask anyone out there, they’ll give you a list of 100 reasons why you’re amazing!”

Then he points to the screen that showed the audience singing and having fun.

“Those people do like your music, but they didn’t come because your music sticks like chewing gum” he jokes and is relieved when he sees a smile on her sad face “They’re here because they admire you YN, whether it’s with a YouTube channel or on a social network all dressed up.”

He then puts a finger on her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“So no insecurity here, no self-sabotage, no sad memories… not here! You’re my best friend, and you’re at the peak of your career. So go out there and ROCK!” With that, Friend!Reader gives YN a big hug and gets excited when he sees that her friend is starting to get back to normal.

“What did you write in those diaries?”

“So many things, I don’t remember right now..” you laugh lightly “But now, the ones I hope like my music are my fans.”

“YES! AND WHAT WILL THEY REALIZE WHEN THEY READ YOUR DIARY?”

“THAT THEY DON’T MEAN ANYTHING TO ME!” The two cheer and joke around with each other, with the support of Friend!Reader, she starts to get excited and return to the stage, singing louder and stronger, entering the chorus of the remix.

She remembered the reserved and empty seats of her first shows, all reserved for family, and saw that years later, strangers occupied all the seats in the concert hall. She remembered when she was little, she would rehearse alone in her rooms for school auditions, and now she sings for a large auditorium in one of the biggest capitals in the world. She remembered lame excuses and looks of contempt, and realized that everyone there was looking at her with admiration and love.

Her family wasn't in a haunted mansion, they were backstage taking care of her, they were on stage dancing and singing with her. She knows who the real ones are, so why worry about the ones who aren't? They say that time heals, but in truth, it's the process that heals. It's painful. Agonizing. But when it's over, you look back and realize how much you've come from it.

She sang with every lyric and every syllabary, she intoned the words with truth and determination, she proclaimed from the bottom of her heart with strength to everyone at the concert and to herself:

“HAVE YOU SEEN, COME AND READ MY DIARY THEN YOU WILL SEE THAT YOU DONT MEAN S H I T TO ME”

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

@imaginarydreams I hope you like this version of the good ending :D

If any of you want to be tagged, let me know in the comments <3

[fcwoso]

Beret season · Leah Williamson

Summary: reader tries to prove Leah a point (fluffy)

MASTERLIST

Leah was known for her grumpy face. She would unintentionally furrow her eyebrows, making it appear as if she were in a constant bad mood. It was something you often teased her about, saying that she would regret it once she’s older. In reality, you loved the lines around her eyes and wouldn’t mind admiring them for the rest of your life.

‘’There she goes again.’’ You chuckled while you two were roaming in the streets of London. Leah’s hand held yours tightly, hair dancing in the wind, but the grumpy expression still present on her face. ‘’What do you mean?’’ She asked in a serious tone, completely oblivious to your remark. She pressed a firm kiss on the back of your hand as she waited for you to answer her question. You shook your head, a teasing grin growing on your face. ‘’Nothing.’’ You replied, returning the kiss on her hand.

Autumn had finally arrived. The first thing Leah did was pull out this box full of berets she had hidden in the back of your shared closet. To say she was excited was an understatement, she was ecstatic. You loved seeing her wear them, you really did. The thing is, she looked like a grumpy grandpa when she wore them. ‘’You’re just jealous, aren’t you. Not everyone can pull off a beret.’’ Is what she would reply, and you happily agreed, there’s no way you’re putting a beret on your head. That’s her thing.

‘’Let’s take a look.’’ You suggested, dragging Leah by the hand. You weren’t interested in buying a new mirror as the store was literally full of them. No, you wanted to prove your lover a point. ‘’Baby, you didn’t tell me you wanted a new one.’’ Leah said, tracing circles with her thumb along the skin of your hand. As you continued walking, you stopped in front of a large mirror, both of you looking at yourselves in its reflection. Your dopey smile mostly fixated on the blonde that was standing next to you. ‘’I didn’t know you were this egocentric; this mirror is huge.’’ Leah laughed, checking out her outfit and of course, adjusting her beret. ‘’Says you.’’ You mumbled, continuing, ‘’Anyway, love, look at yourself.’’ Your hands encircled her waist and Leah couldn’t help but lean into your warm touch.

‘’What about me? I look fine?’’ She replied, admiring your form instead, making you playfully roll your eyes. ‘’Hmm, you look great.’’ You said. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that she finally realized what you were trying to show her, just when you were about to pull away. The pout on her lips was visible, making you giggle. ‘’Oh, I see it now.’’ She quietly admitted. A sad expression was plastered on her face, visible in the mirror’s reflection in front of you.

You turned her around and put your hands on the sides of her face, resting them on her slightly cold cheeks. ‘’I still think you’re adorable, that won’t ever change.’’ The soft kiss on her nose was to reassure her, the following kiss on her lips was to make the pout disappear. And you succeeded. The slightly taller blonde had to hunch over a bit to meet your touch, her pout transforming into a subtle smile making her dimples appear. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around her neck and draw her closer to you, leaving a few soft kisses along her jaw.

‘’I know, I’m your favorite.’’ There’s no way you could argue with that. The taller blonde rested her forehead on yours, sparkling eyes locked onto the ones that were staring right back at her. Suddenly, you felt something resting on your head. Something warm, something soft? ‘’Leah.’’ You said sternly without moving an inch. ‘’What?’’ She innocently asked, a cheeky grin replacing over usual serious face. ‘’Take it off of me.’’ She let out the biggest groan and took a step back, looking back at her reflection while placing the hat on her now disheveled hair. ‘’You better cover that mess up, Williamson.’’ You snorted while making your way out of the store. The blonde was still busy attempting to hide her messy bangs and huffed, ‘’Whatever, you’re just jealous.’’

[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader 5

3.1k | angst Shepherd and his PR obsession (part 1) (part 6)

John’s tired body melted in your embrace as he sighed at the door of your flat. The high still thrummed in his veins from his victory the previous evening. With Kyle in second, McLaren sealed a stunning 1-2 finish at Bahrain GP.

He closed the door behind him and took his mask off. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he said between kisses.

You smiled against his lips, fingers curling over his biceps. “Guess what I made you for dinner?” You helped him take his jacket off.

How could he not want to come home to this every single day? To your hugs and kisses and laughter that allowed the aching exhaustion in his bones to dissipate into thin air.

You made it so hard to leave each time, and once more, telling you of his next trip chipped away at his heart again.

“So it’s the third consecutive weekend you’re away?” You turned to him on the couch. “Are you supposed to be away for work this often?”

The way your frown replaced your brilliant smile chased away the remaining serotonin from him. “I’m usually away two to three times a month. But they’re not long trips,” he quickly added. “Just 4 days, 5 tops.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You never said anything about that, John.”

“Yeah-“ He dropped his gaze. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.”

It was the truth. Off-season was an absolute paradise with you. With no travelling involved, he was a normal bloke with a normal day job and a normal relationship. The reality of his real work was a distant thought until it towered right in his face.

“But it doesn’t have to change anything, right?” He tried to not let his panic seep into his voice when you avoided his eyes, your shoulders sagging.

“I don’t know, John,” you mumbled. “The past months you were always in town and I didn’t expect this.”

“I won’t always be away. After Jeddah, I’d have over a week here. So let’s-“ His heart was beating out of his chest as he grasped your chin, tilting your face towards his. “Let’s see how it goes? It’s not that bad, I promise.”

He didn’t want to see how it went. He wanted to know this would all be just fine and he’d always be able to come home to you like this. But John Price was a selfish bastard whose voice still shook despite his willpower of making it work. Was he trying to convince you or himself?

At last, you met his eyes and a small smile flickered on your lips. “Okay.”

Relief washed over him and he pulled you to his chest. “Would you let me make it up to you?” He kissed your forehead. “I’ve arranged a dinner for us on Wednesday. Dress up, yeah?”

John Price could almost smell the death of John mother fucking Sloane – the devil he fashioned who had taken shape much bigger for him to contain. He could taste the victory as he drove to your shop that evening. He’d been looking forward to the date, a nice, quiet dinner with you overlooking the London skyline. He sported a creaseless button down, even got his hair trimmed and dress shoes polished for the occasion.

He’d made up his mind – he was going to tell you in the privacy of your flat. Despite the chance that you’d be out of his life by the end of the night, he’d had enough. It was your prerogative if you didn’t want him and the obstacles it entailed, and he couldn’t keep breaking your heart.

So when Kate’s name flashed across the infotainment screen of his GTI, he frowned.

“John, Shepherd’s meeting a potential investor for dinner. He wants you to join them.”

“Me? What for?”

“You know what for. He said you and Kyle need to show.”

“Shepherd and his PR bollocks,” he muttered.

“I just texted you the address. You better leave now.”

“Tonight!? What the- I’ve got plans already, and I’m not cancelling, not again.”

“If you want to get on Shepherd’s bad side, I guess. Mr. Graves won’t be here anymore when we come back from the race.”

“Kate, come on. Besides, look at what time it is.”

”Sorry, you know how it goes, John.” She paused. “I mean, he said you could bring anyone. So maybe if you’d been honest, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

The comment was a slap to his face. It was a low blow, and he hated that she was right. He’d slipped too deep into his persona and it was all the more why coming clean to you that night was imperative.

“Make sure you drive your McLaren.”

At the red light, when he’d hung up, he screamed the loudest fuck the side of town had ever heard. He wanted to get on his knees and cry, but he could only laugh helplessly at his misfortune.

John didn’t mean to fling the door of your shop open, but the patrons turned to him at the commotion nonetheless, making him grimace. His eyes went right to you behind the counter, all dolled up for the night. The smile faded when you saw his frown.

He rushed to you. “Love, I’m so sorry. I-“ He sighed, trying to keep his voice down. “Something just came up. My boss wants me to attend dinner with some investor.”

You averted your gaze, your shoulders slumping.

“Fuck me, I feel terrible. I don’t know what time I’ll be done, but could I come over you after? I want to see you before I leave tomorrow.”

“That alright, John,” you said in a small voice, turning away from him. “Just go.”

“I’ll move the reservation to Monday.” He pulled you into a hug, but your arms hung by your side.

You could wait another weekend. You would, right?

He pulled his mask and leaned in. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart. See you soon, okay?”

John didn’t realise it then, but your lips tasted different that evening.

There John Price was in the sweltering heat of Jeddah for the second race of the season.

Days passed in a blur. Even that he tried, he wasn’t all there in the briefs or interviews answering questions that didn’t need to be asked. He’d left his mind 3,000 miles behind, and a dark cloud loomed over him, like a monster was breathing down his neck making his skin crawl.

You’d been quiet. You avoided his calls and barely texted him back since Wednesday before finally saying you didn’t want to talk. As much as he didn’t want it to affect him, the silence pierced like nails on chalkboard. He was willing to give you all the space you needed, but guilt weighted crushed his shoulders. Had he run out of time?

John was fuming, of course he was. He wanted to bail, fly back to London and beg for your forgiveness. Instead, all he could do was scream his lungs out into his pillow, because he couldn’t be angry at you.

You had the right to be upset, and more. He’d embarrassed you that evening. Evie, one of your girls, had wrapped her arm around you, guiding you back to your office. She might be years younger, but he didn’t miss the nasty look she shot over her shoulder before he bolted out the door with his heart dragging on the floor.

But it wasn’t only that. It wasn’t the first time he’d failed you. The past weeks he’d lost count of how many times he was late or had to move around plans with you.

It was getting harder to keep the fire burning in him. He’d jumped through these hoops, and it looked like it was all in vain. He just wanted to make everything as easy as possible for you, and be the understanding and patient man you deserved, but he could barely hold himself together with everything spiralling out of control.

He had painted himself into a corner. How could he salvage this? It was looking worse by the day.

Of course he wanted to be honest. He was dying to tell you, but coming clean at this exact point felt like giving up. Because if he did, how could you even imagine staying?

Was this something he couldn’t have with you after all? Perhaps he had signed away his rights to a normal life when he plunged into racing.

Sunday afternoon, hours before the race, you finally broke the silence.

I don’t want to keep doing this

There it was. A deceivingly simple sentence, but it was a blow in the gut. His time had run out.

His heart hammered as he dialled, but you didn’t pick up.

Could we please talk?

Let me know when you're back

He couldn’t argue with that. It was always better to talk in person, but his heart tossed and turned into itself. The clocked ticked away, but not nearly fast enough to Monday.

So John Price showcased his rage on the circuit – something he was infamous for. It was always a spectacle how he overtook his opponents in tight corners, zipping past them in straights. Fans cheered for the action, the relentless chase he demonstrated, like a ravenous predator ready to pounce and shred with no mercy.

But perhaps, had he been more present the past few days, he would have realised the understeering issue remained before it was too late.

He could yell and complain all he wanted on the radio, but he was the one who struggled to maintain his position as his car refused to do what he wanted it to. His blood boiled as yet another driver zoomed past him, pushing him further down to 5th place.

“Focus on finishing. It’s just 15 laps to go,” Ghost said. “Sorry, cap. There’s nothing else we can do for now.”

With his situation laid out, John should be more conservative – it was the right thing. But as he stared longer at the car in front of him, the fury still brewing, making a move to take back his previous position was as tantalising as ever.

But he should have listened to Simon, his seasoned and trusted engineer, because to avoid scrapping the wall after the next corner, his tyres locked up, causing a collision with the Mercedes driver who was just as hungry for a strong finish.

John’s aggressive style had always served him well, allowing him to execute impossible moves and thus securing astounding wins, but that day, his temper had severely skewed his judgement.

It was a miracle he finished 8th that evening, and he dreaded the onslaught he was going to receive for the rookie mistake, of letting desperation consume him. Kyle and Simon tried to cheer him up the first chance they got, but he excused himself to his room with disinterest. Kate gave him a sympathetic pat on his back. He only kept his head down.

At least Monday was close. Seeing you always made him feel better. He’d make it all right once and for all.

John woke with a nasty, aching bruise on the right side of his ribs. He feared a trip to the hospital will delay his return, but the scan revealed it was nothing serious, much to his relief. He was given pain meds to help with the injury. But most importantly, it meant he could stick to his schedule to fly back.

Nothing was standing in his way anymore.

I just landed. I’ll head home to get ready for dinner and I’ll come by the shop to pick you up

We’re not having dinner. Meet me at my place at 7

The situation was worse than he’d anticipated. He sighed. Perhaps a little nap would calm his nerves. Sleep hadn’t been kind to him the past few days after all.

When he jolted up from his couch too many hours later, he gasped. It was past 8. With his heart pounding, he was certain you weren’t going to pick up but-

“Love, I’m so, so sorry-“

“Is this another one of your excuses too, John?” Your voice wobbled.

“It’s not an excuse. I took pain meds and slept thought my alarm.” He rubbed his eyes and stood, his legs shaky. “I’ll leave right now, okay?”

The line remained silent as he gathered his belongings.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you said quietly.

He stopped in his tracks.

“I've known you for months, but I don’t know who you are. You've never even once brought me to your place. I’ve never met your friends. I don’t even know what you do that makes you so busy.” Your voice cracked. “You're hiding something, John, and I’m done making excuses for you.”

He held his breath. This is it. “Yes, you’re right. I am. I haven't been truthful to you.”

“I knew it.” You laughed humourlessly. “Men like you can't be single. I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I-“ He sighed, falling back onto the couch. “Would you promise... That nothing will change this?”

“What's this, John?” Your voice rose. “There's nothing here if you can't even be honest with me.”

“I know, and I swear I’ll be honest from now on.” He exhaled sharply. “I’ll tell you my real name. It’s not J-“

“You didn’t even tell me your name?” you repeated. “After these months- I… I can’t believe you.”

“Wait, let me explain, love.”

“I don't even want to know what else you lied about.” You scoffed. “You're a liar and that's all I need to know.”

“Sweetheart, just- just listen, please. I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” you snapped, but the broken sigh that followed shattered his heart. “You’re…  you make me sick.” And the line clicked off.

He kept calling, but instead, you ended up shutting off your phone. He understood you were livid. He hadn’t been who you deserved at all, but he was done waiting. You had to know.

My name is John Price. I’m a Formula One driver for McLaren. Everything else is the truth. Please let me explain

He’d love to go to yours, but his body was giving up on him as the pounding in his head remained.

“I’m sorry, love,” he mumbled before collapsing on his bed.

It was beyond infuriating.

John Sloane, or whatever his name was, was the first man to have caught your eye in a long time. He was kind, laid-back, funny, sweet. He was always there for you, willing to get out of his way to help out. He never needed to tell you that you mattered.

However, the more time passed, the fewer excuses you could make for him. He wouldn’t tell you where he lived, let alone take you there. Sure, maybe he was embarrassed of having a roommate, or if the state of his flat wasn’t in its prime. Perhaps he was a hoarder, although you doubted that because his car was always tidy and taken care of.

But it wasn’t only that. He didn’t have any online presence, nor did you know any of his friends. In public, he always wore a mask, didn’t like crowded places, wouldn’t send you pictures of himself nor have his pictures taken. You never asked, but you assumed he was simply self-conscious.

Yet you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he didn’t want to be recognised, like he was hiding something. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was getting harder to not think you were the other woman.

Your friends had long dismissed whatever it was you had with him. He had to be married, they said. It was always dodgy - you couldn’t lie, but you should have pressed for an explanation, demanded certainty, or something rather than take his excuses for the sole reason of not pushing him away.

You wanted to trust him, but your patience thinned. When he started being consistently late, became unavailable on weekends, the alarms started blaring. He was spending his time elsewhere and it was bitter on your tongue.

As attentive and caring as John was to you, he was handsome, effortlessly charming. Surely you weren’t the only one who saw it. There were plenty of other ladies out there-

The creak of the shop door interrupted your thoughts. You straightened up and greeted the man as he approached the counter.

He returned your smile, his pearly whites perfect. “Hiya, love. So nice to finally meet you. I’m Kyle, John’s friend.”

Your smile froze as your brows knitted. “Sorry, John who?”

“John Price.”

Your frown deepened. “I’m sorry, I don’t know a John Price.”

The man blinked, confusion in his brown eyes. “But I’ve seen your photos with him-“ He pointed at your nametag. “That’s you, yeah?”

“Yes?”

“You’re pulling my bloody leg, aren’t you?” He let out a nervous chuckle as he whipped out his phone and started typing. “You’re telling me you don’t know him?”

He showed you a selfie of him and the elusive John, each holding up a shiny trophy with a grin.

Congrats JP for winning the first race of the season #BahrainGP

“Right. Yes, of course.” You forced a chuckle. “Got you, didn’t I?”

“Bloody hell, love. For a second I was going to be really embarrassed.” He laughed, scanning the menu. “What’s his favourite drink again? I’ll get that for him, and- you know what, make that four, please, and the cookies too of course.” His eyes flicked back to you. “Obviously, he needs some serious cheering up after Sunday.”

Was that really the John? Your mind whirred as you served him. What happened on Sunday?

He dumped a wad of bills in the tip jar and thanked you again before strutting out with his order. Hope you see you at the paddock soon, he’d said.

You blinked. What was that supposed to mean? Why did this Kyle bloke talk to you like you were supposed to know him? And did he say he’d seen your photos with John? You’d never taken any.

Outside the shop, a couple of young ladies audibly squealed at the sight of Kyle before rushing to take selfies with him.

The man you’d cried over the night before was not who you thought he was. You went to your office and turned your phone on.

Masterlist

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @kyletogaz @its-me-mila @two-autumns

@voids-universe @the-darling-fishy @fruitymoonbeams-blog @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @freshlemontea

@hungrycrazy @sadcowboyhours @nocturnalreader106 @shinymriver @princessdaniiiii

@eve-lie @stickerguts @dresdensstuff @dwaekkiiiiiiiiiiai @rowanyaboats

@onceitoowasinnocent @msalcatraz

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[hairgrowthcentre]

HGC, one of the largest hair re-growth and hair replacement London, equipped with the latest technology and staffed by expert medical and non-medical teams, specializes in hair replacement. All hair medication, surgeries, and replacement procedures take place in our state-of-the-art clinics. HGC's unique hair centers are expanding to become one of the UK's largest and most renowned hair replacement centers, attracting a clientele that includes A-list celebrities and athletes who have successfully undergone hair replacement treatments.

[technology--2]

Unlocking Confidence: A Comprehensive Guide to Hair Replacement with the Hair Growth Centre

Having a full head of hair is crucial for boosting self-confidence in Manchester, a busy city known for its vibrant fashion industry and celebration of individuality. The Hair Growth Center is a ray of light for Manchester residents looking for safe, natural hair replacement options. This piece will explore the cutting-edge methods provided by the Hair Growth Center; emphasizing the salient aspects of their offerings and the revolutionary influence they have on those who are attempting to restore their confidence and hair replacement in Manchester.

Understanding Hair Replacement losing hair can be a difficult journey that affects a person's self-esteem and general well-being. Londoners are often worried about it and look for trustworthy ways to get their hair and confidence back. The Hair Transplant London intervenes to allay this common concern by providing individualized care and cutting-edge techniques to address different forms of hair loss.

Why Choose the Hair Growth Centre?

Knowledge and Experience: The Hair Growth Centre is home to a group of knowledgeable experts with a wealth of hair replacement experience. Their knowledge enables them to evaluate each person's particular circumstance and suggest customized solutions for the best outcomes.

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Personalized Treatment Plans: The Hair Growth Centre develops customized treatment plans since it understands that each person's experience with hair loss is distinct. These strategies ensure a customized strategy for each client by considering variables including lifestyle, personal goals, and the kind and level of hair loss.

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Consultation: A thorough consultation is the first step in the hair restoration process. In order to comprehend the client's particular issues and objectives, the Hair Growth Centre's professionals perform a detailed examination during this session. This serves as the basis for developing an individualized treatment strategy.

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The Impact of Hair Replacement on Confidence It's not only about appearances when one wants to grow their hair back; it's also about regaining self-esteem and confidence. The Manchester Hair Growth Centre is aware of the psychological effects of hair loss and works to empower people with their life-changing services.

Clients of the Hair Growth Center frequently describe not just physical alterations but also a notable increase in confidence, all while embracing a fresh sense of self. Their lives are improved in a variety of ways, including their connections with others and their career aspirations. Let's examine in more detail the long-term effects of hair replacement on self-esteem and the testimonies that support the Heart of Manchester success tales.

Beyond Appearance the Best Hair Transplant Clinic in London is aware that appearance doesn't always translate into confidence, even though it really helps. Patients frequently report feeling less self-conscious about their hair after a successful hair replacement treatment at this prestigious facility, which promotes a greater sense of ease in social situations. These people are extremely confident in their interactions, which enables them to show the world their finest selves.

Personalized Assistance and Empowerment The Hair Clinic London is excellent at both the technical aspects of hair restoration and offering individualized care. Customers value the experts' sympathetic demeanor and recognition of the psychological effects of hair loss. People feel empowered to take charge of their stories and change the way they see themselves in this encouraging setting.

Continued Support and Follow-Up the Hair Transplant Clinic's Birmingham dedication to its clients extends above and beyond what is required for the initial procedures. Thanks to frequent follow-up sessions and ongoing support, clients are given confidence throughout their continuing journey. This constant commitment to providing top-notch customer care reinforces the Hair Transplant Clinic's standing as a reliable ally in the quest for wellbeing and self-assurance.

The Hair Growth Centre, located in the centre of Manchester, is a haven for confidence restoration rather than merely a hair replacement facility. The Centre’s reputation keeps expanding as more and more people benefit from its services and have life-changing experiences. The Hair Growth Centre located in Manchester offers a route to self-assurance and empowerment, catering to both parents and professionals trying to improve their employment prospects. With the help of the Hair Growth Centre, bid adieu to worries about hair loss and welcome a future full of restored confidence.

[cordeliawhohung]

Until You

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part 4 of "soft spot"

Simon is the only place that feels like home anymore, and you can't get enough of him.

warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving) porn with plot (a lot of plot), porn with feelings, service top ghost

wc: 6.6k

New York City. No one ever talked about the smell.

Warm, wet trash sizzling in the dying heat of the summer, mixed with the suffocating pollution from the countless cars clogging the roads. It was worse than London, in a way. Or maybe Simon just thought it was worse because it wasn’t home. At least the rat infestation was a bit familiar, though not all too comforting. 

Most of all, it was the amount of people that really got to him. London and New York City were roughly the same size population wise, but it was as if the city was more dense than London was. With towering buildings stretching far into the sky, blocking out any sort of natural beauty, it was almost as if they forgot they could build their city out sideways. It was even more odd pushing through them, weaving his way between bodies and stands in the crowded streets. The city was awfully lively for a place that had almost been blown to bits that morning. 

It had been a long week. A long few weeks. The last thing he wanted to do was meet up with Laswell and the others for some sort of debriefing party. In a bar, no less. Though, at that time of day it was likely to be less crowded than the street he tried to slither through, and he attempted to hold onto that thought as his only source of comfort.

“Hey, check this out, L.T.” 

Then, of course, there was Soap. Over their time working together, he had grown closer to him than he had any of his other teammates. He was a nice enough kid, and one hell of a fighter, but walking down the streets of that fucking city with him was going to be the death of him. 

Still, he paused as the Scotsman bounded up to one of the various stands that lined the streets. Some sort of parade had taken place that morning, which meant all the vendors were out and about trying to sell anything from food to handmade goods. The one Soap approached seemed to be selling jewelry ranging from necklaces, rings, and even earrings. Each one of them had that handmade charm with its leather, twine, and gemstones. He wondered how many of them were real stones. 

“Fancy yourself some jewelry, Johnny?” Simon asked, deciding to play along with Soap’s antics for a bit. 

“Oh, you know me,” Soap said, thumbs resting in his pockets while his eyes scanned the items in front of him. 

“Chest candy not enough for you, then?”

The lady who ran the stand must have been the oldest person alive. Her body was covered in age spots and her hair was so wiry and frail he could see clear through it to her scalp. When she smiled, her teeth looked unnaturally white and fake, as the real ones were most certainly replaced with dentures, and there were the obvious hints of hearing aids lining the sides of her ears. Simon wouldn’t be surprised if she had no idea what was going on around her. 

“Not looking for myself,” Soap said simply as he continued to browse. 

Simon stood there for a good few seconds as he allowed his sergeant to have his fun, but his patience was wearing thin. Being out in that crowd had already fried his nerves some, and not everyone was caring enough to hide their odd gazes at his attire. He wasn’t all too excited about getting an earful if they showed up late, either. 

“Here we go, what about this one?” Soap asked as he pointed at one of the items. 

Following his finger, Simon caught sight of a ring. It was a dainty little thing, with a band so thin it seemed like the material would snap straight in half under the pressure of his gaze if he kept squinting at it. On top of the silvery band was some sort of red gemstone. He guessed ruby, but was doubtful about the authenticity of it. He was a soldier, not a gemologist. 

“What about it?” Simon questioned. 

Soap shook his head and hummed a little. “Right. Probably a bit too soon for a ring, huh?” 

Before Simon even had time to question what the hell he was talking about, Soap grinned. It was a devious little grin, and something the man wore often. His hand reached out and grabbed a necklace from off of one of the stands. It was better put together than the ring was, and in his opinion, more eye-catching. Emerald green beads lined the entirety of the necklace, and they were the good quality kind too. The ones that probably were plastic but didn’t look like it. And the way it reflected the sun was rather dazzling too, even he had to admit. 

“MacTavish,” Simon grumbled. 

“What?” Soap asked, though he sounded a bit guilty. “You’re all the way here in the Big Apple. You’ve gotta get a souvenir for Spook. Besides, green looks good on everyone.” 

There it was again, that nickname Soap had coined for you. Despite the fact that he had never once mentioned your existence to anyone on the task force, Soap had managed to see right through him. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide you for mischievous reasons, but he preferred to keep his life at work and his life at home separate. Though, it became a difficult task with that damn Scot meddling in it. 

He would have rolled his eyes at the man if he wasn’t too busy attempting to glare at him. Instead, he shook his head before turning and continuing down the street. 

“If you show up late, I’m turning you over to Laswell,” Simon warned. 

Unphased, Soap turned his attention back down to the sea of jewelry in front of him, along with the ancient lady who hadn’t stopped smiling throughout their conversation. He held the necklace out with one hand while the other dug into his pocket.

“How much for this?” 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Simon never unpacked his bag on the nights he arrived home. He was often too tired from the mix of physical exertion and jet lag. So he always saved it for the next day when his mind was a bit more clear and his body somewhat rejuvenated from what little sleep he managed to get that night. He always started with his clothes first. Rinsing out any stains with cold water before tossing them into the hamper to be washed some other time. Then there were the toiletries, where they’d be brought back to their rightful places on the bathroom counter. 

Other than that, there wasn’t much else for him to sort through. Except for the new item he found in his hand. A small, dainty, green beaded necklace. It was the very same one Soap had showed him while he was still in The States, and it had been stowed away in the same pocket he kept his toothbrush in. Unless the thing grew a pair of legs and climbed in there itself, Simon had a pretty good idea who put it there. 

“Cheeky bastard.” 

Before he could grumble to himself too much about it, a sharp knock sounded on his door. He shoved the necklace into the pocket of his jeans and quickly threw his empty duffel bag underneath his bed before approaching the door. There was no need for him to check through the peephole before he opened it, as he was already expecting someone. 

You stood outside of Simon’s apartment with a bag of groceries in hand, and bundled in a light jacket to fight off the cool autumn air. A grin formed on your lips the moment the door swung open to reveal Simon. It took everything in you not to throw yourself into his burly arms, but god, the very sight of him made you want to melt into his chest. To soak up every inch of him and bathe in the one true person who ever felt like home to you. He had only been gone a few weeks this time, but it still felt like an eternity since you had last seen him. 

“Hey, love,” he greeted you as you slid into the apartment. “What’s all this?” 

“Dinner!” you exclaimed as you scurried over to the kitchen. “Or, at least what will be dinner. I heard the ORP’s you get in the military are pretty shit, so I figured a fresh meal would do you some good. I got chicken, and a salad kit. I hope you like Ceasar salad, because it’s the only kind they had, and…” 

You were rambling, as usual. Once you were aware of your chattiness, you paused and turned back around to face Simon. A ghost of a smile hinted at his lips as he watched you, fingers fiddling with something in his pocket. Another grin broke out across your face as you began to sway side to side. You felt like a school girl looking at her crush. 

“And I missed you,” you said softly, finishing up your ramble. 

That hint of a smile turned into an obvious one. It was still small, as were most of Simon’s expressions, but you reveled in it as he slowly closed the gap that spanned between the two of you. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist and that was all the coaxing that you needed to fall into him. 

He smelt fresh and clean, like he had gotten out of the shower not too long ago. There was a hearty warmth about him that melted away whatever coldness that lingered on your skin. His head lowered so that his lips could press against the top of your head, which only caused that warmth to spread. 

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, giving you a tight squeeze. His words were soft and laced with fatigue, which wasn’t surprising. He always got like that after returning from somewhere overseas. Apparently saving the world was a pretty taxing job. But it only made you appreciate it even more that he was willing to let you come over to his apartment and bug him. 

As much as you wanted to stay like that forever, there was raw chicken in the grocery bag, and you were starving. So you raised your head off of his chest and propped yourself on the tips of your toes to plant a quick, chaste kiss to his lips before slipping out of his grasp. His fingers lingered on the curve of your waist for a short moment as he watched you turn back to the counter to sort through the items you bought. Simon never really liked to talk about how his missions went, and you were sure a large part of that was because it was probably classified to some extent. Instead, he aimed the conversation to be mostly about you. So, while you cooked, you talked about anything you could think of. Work and how the computer systems went down on a Monday morning, or a walk in the park you had taken on a Saturday where you saw a bird stealing a sandwich from a toddler. 

Though Simon had attempted to help several times throughout the cooking process, you refused, and ordered him to relax while you did the work. Eventually the entirety of Simon’s studio apartment was smothered in the alluring aroma of your freshly cooked chicken. After setting up the plates, the two of you made yourselves comfortable on Simon’s couch. Or, at least as comfortable as you could get. You didn’t know how he managed it, but he somehow found a couch that was even more lumpy and rock hard than yours. 

“How do you like it?” you questioned with your mouth half full of food. 

Simon took a moment to finish swallowing his bite of food before answering. “Good. Very good. Salad’s alright, though. Nothing special.” 

You tilted your head to the side, curiosity piqued. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, eyes glancing up at you. “Any salad can be a Ceasar salad if you just stab it enough.” 

A laugh left your throat, but not the kind that was sincere. It was mostly in pity, and a little bit in pain. “Wow, Simon. Grabbing the low hanging fruit, are we? Can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that one before.” 

Another soft smile appeared on his lips before he continued eating. He was hardly one to truly smile all that often. In fact, you couldn’t ever really recall a time when you saw him grin, a big toothy grin. At that point, you think that expression on him would probably worry you. 

“You said you went to America, right? New York?” you prodded, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork. 

“Yeah. City,” he confirmed. 

You could hardly contain the grin on your face as your eyes flickered back and forth between the plate in your lap and Simon’s face. “You know, I read somewhere that someone in New York gets stabbed every fifty-two seconds.” 

“Yeah?” Simon asked incredulously. 

“Yeah,” you repeated, unable to contain your shit-eating grin any longer. “Poor guy.” 

Simon nodded his head slightly as his lips pressed tightly together as if acknowledging the humor in your joke, but he didn’t laugh. “Good one. Have to tell the boys that one.” 

You giggled, this time a real, true one. “Make sure to credit me. You’ll have them all repeating the joke that Lieutenant Riley’s super cool girlfriend shared.” 

The muscles in Simon’s arms tensed slightly at your words, and he paused eating for a short moment before shaking his head slightly and continuing. This didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you were quick to question him on it. 

“What? Plan on stealing the glory for yourself?” you teased. 

Once more, Simon shook his head. “That Lieutenant Riley bullshit.” 

“Is it weird coming from me?” you questioned. 

He paused for a moment while he used his thumb to swipe at a bit of dressing that had lingered on the corner of his mouth. “Coming from anyone.” 

Now that really caught your attention. The way you saw it, this was your opportunity to press a bit more about his work. At least the non-classified parts of it, anyway. 

“Really? Everyone just call you Simon, then? Seems a bit informal,” you mused. But as soon as those words left your mouth, an idea struck you. “Or do you have a call sign or something?” 

You could tell by the way he paused that you were right. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was obvious that a part of him was wishing you hadn’t caught onto it. It was talk about work, one of the hardest things to get him to open up about. But this was innocent enough, or at least you hoped it was. 

“Ghost,” he said stiffly. 

“Ghost?” you repeated. “I guess that’s fitting for you. You’re pretty quiet. Does anyone else go by something like that?” 

Finishing up the rest of his food, Simon set his plate so that it was balancing on the armrest of the couch. He sat forward a bit so that he was able to reach into his pocket. 

“Some do. One of them actually… helped me get this for you.”

Simon wasn’t exactly one for gifts, both receiving and giving. His language rested heavily in acts of service. Putting together a new lamp. Buying groceries when there was none in the fridge or pantry. Making you breakfast. So when he pulled out a beautiful green beaded necklace, you were instantly taken aback. It looked so dainty in the palm of his hands, displayed perfectly and waiting for you to take it. 

“Simon,” you exclaimed with a small gasp. Mirroring what he did with his plate, you set it down to rest on the arm of the couch before scooting closer to him. You carefully took the necklace from his hands to admire it further. “It’s beautiful.” 

His eyes watched you attentively while your fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the beads. Everything about you was perfect to him. How gentle you were with everything you did. How you were the exact opposite of him. Where he was quiet and stiff, you filled every void in him with the song of your voice. You haunted his mind, all his thoughts, the empty cavern of his chest. He had felt cold for so long, and when you came along it burnt. But he would gladly burn for the rest of eternity if that meant he could see you like you were in that moment, so happy and full of an innocent glee.

Happy because of him. 

You broke his train of thought when you held the necklace back towards him. At first he was confused, but when you moved even closer to him, he knew what was coming next. 

“Help me put it on?” you asked. 

Of course he would. There would never be a time where he would ever say no to a question like that. So he took the necklace from your hands as you turned to sit away from him while lifting your hair up. His hands brushed against your collarbones as he reached around to get the necklace in front of you. It took him a moment to get the clasp to properly hook together, and you shivered slightly at the lukewarm temperature of the jewelry. He straightened it out on your neck and you turned to face him once more, a smile on your face as you looked down at yourself. 

“How’s it look?” Your eyes found his again after asking the question, and your heart nearly stopped. There was a deep sort of feeling to his gaze, one that you couldn’t quite place, but one that made you feel unbearably warm. 

“Gorgeous,” he responded, his voice deep and hardly above a whisper. 

Something started to expand in your chest. It was difficult to tell if it was because of how he looked at you, those dark eyes glancing over your features, gaze lingering on your lips, or because of his compliment. But it kept growing, and things started to feel too hot, like someone had lit your heart on fire. 

He was so close. So close that you could reach out and touch him after weeks of not even being able to hear his voice. You felt like some 17th century man with your eyes glancing over every bit of him like you had never seen such beauty in your life. That hot, expanding feeling in your chest only persisted, and it was getting difficult to breathe. 

Simon felt like your source of life. Like you were dying without him. So when your hand reached out and brushed against the side of his face it felt like you were able to breathe again. But it only made that burn in your chest, that need, grow stronger.

He was the one to close the gap between you, lips finding yours so easily it was like he was taking the road back home. You twisted your body so that you were facing him as best as you could while sitting on the couch, and his hands were quick to find your waist. His touch was gentle as he carefully rubbed his hands around to the small of your back, tugging you closer. 

But it wasn’t close enough, not for either of you. His lips pulled off of yours for a short second as he hooked a hand underneath your legs while keeping the other one firmly on your back. His strength always surprised you, as it wasn’t something he demonstrated all too often. With his stature and line of work, though, you don’t know why it caught you off guard when he pulled you into his lap as if you weighed nothing. 

“C’mere,” he said, lips brushing against yours once more. 

Giggling, you melted back into the kiss, sitting sideways in his lap. Eventually his hands began to wander some. They slowly slid under your shirt, inching up carefully as his fingers met the bare flesh of your waist. He didn’t venture too far. It was simple; polite, even. Going slow enough so that you could stop him with ease if you wanted, and yet still not taking advantage of it and pawing at you like a hungry dog. All he did was savor the touch of your skin. 

But you wanted more. It was a weird feeling; wanting to be touched. Feeling like you would waste away without it. No, you didn’t just want to be touched, you wanted to be touched by him. By Simon. There was some sort of insatiable need growing in you that only craved him. So you pulled away, embarrassingly out of breath. The moment you did his hands quickly slid out from underneath your shirt, and you nearly pouted at the loss of contact. 

“I missed you,” you said softly. Your hands meandered down to the hem of your shirt where you took the fabric between your fingers before slowly tugging it upwards. He watched you carefully, eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin as you discarded the shirt somewhere on the floor behind you. “I missed you so much.” 

When your lips crashed together once more there was more movement involved, as if you were trying to devour one another. Simon’s hands roamed along your back, staying tactfully away from your bra as the pads of his fingers trailed along your skin, sending a tingle along your spine. It wasn’t enough. If anything, it only made things worse. You were burning alive and you would be reduced to ash eventually. 

“Simon, I…” you said breathlessly as you pulled out of the kiss again. It caught you off guard just how whiny you sounded. “I want you.”

His eyes quickly glanced at the bed shoved in the corner of the studio, and his arm was already making its way underneath your knees again. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, and moments later you were suspended in the air bridal style, held against his body with nothing but his hands to keep you there. It caused another giggle to bubble out of your chest, which only made Simon smirk. 

He could have tossed you onto the bed; gods knew he was strong enough. You half expected him to do it, too. Instead, he set you on the edge of the bed so that your legs were dangling over the side. He towered over you as he stood in front of you, a hand running along your hair. His touch was so soft. He didn’t yank on your hair, or force you to look up at him, he was much more tender than that. God, he was going to be the death of you. Your hands reached out for him and you pulled gently on the fabric of his shirt as you stared up at him, your eyes wide.

“Please?” you asked. 

Doing as you asked, Simon slid the shirt over his head in one fluid motion. It wasn’t a secret that he was fit, in fact, it was to be expected for someone like him. The demands of the military, let alone the SAS, were rigorous, and his body reflected that. Toned muscles shone through thick skin which was littered with an array of scars. Some were so faded you could hardly make them out in the dim lighting of his apartment. Others were so deep and angry they nearly made your stomach turn at the thought of what could cause such a thing. Particularly a rather deep scar that punctured through the muscle of his ribs. 

Continuing to maintain eye contact with him, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against that scar on his ribs. You could feel the way his muscles rippled underneath your mouth in a shiver. He shivered harder than he ever had when you offered the same comfort to the scar on his cheek. 

As if thanking him for being so vulnerable with you, a hand reached behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra, causing your breasts to drop into full view. Once that item of clothing was tossed somewhere to the side, everything fell into place perfectly. Simon leaning down, his lips on yours, your hands tangled in his hair, his fingers pulling off the clothing that covered your bottom half. 

At some point you had fallen so that you laid on your back. Simon still stood at the edge of the bed where he took in the sight of your bare body, with nothing on you except for that necklace. It was an odd look he gave you. Like he was hungry, but not greedy. Like he was savoring every second his eyes drank in the sight of you. 

You bit your lip and moved your legs upwards some so that your feet were resting on the bed, thighs slightly spread. His eyes dropped down, locking onto the soft flesh between your thighs, but only for a moment before he looked at you again. 

Without breaking that eye contact, he slowly lowered so that he was on his knees. His hands gripped your hips and slowly pulled you so that your ass was nearly hanging off the bed. You gasped at the movement, legs flailing slightly as they were once again over the edge. To help keep you steady, he threw your legs over his shoulders as he positioned his head between your thighs. 

You propped yourself up on your elbows in order to keep your eyes on him. Your breaths came in quick and short bursts of anticipation as you watched him. The very sight of him alone made you feel weak. 

“Just say the word, sweetheart,” he said softly, thumbs caressing your thighs as he held them. “If you want it to stop, then I stop. Yeah?” 

Your arms began to shake as you held yourself up, but you nodded your head in response to him. But your nod alone didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy him. 

“Okay,” you said, your hips wiggling in anticipation. 

Then came the kisses. Soft, open mouthed kisses against the inside of your thigh. He trailed them from the bottom of your thigh near your knee, up towards the plush flesh near your pussy. Each movement was slow and careful while his eyes continued to watch your body, looking for any sign to stop. But when you gave him none, he dove right in. 

Stars threatened to blind your vision the moment Simon’s tongue slid along your heat, and your arms fully gave out as you fell back onto the bed. He moved along you slowly and languid, taking his time in trying to find just what made you tick. When his tongue swiped across your clit you found your legs tightening, nearly threatening to crush his head. A soft and breathy moan escaped your lips, which only seemed to fuel his actions. 

“Fuck… right there,” you breathed as your fingers laced in his hair. 

It was the sign he was looking for, and once those words left your mouth, he kept his mouth on you, tongue swirling along that spot that made your legs shake around his head. A part of you thought he was going to stop. That he would get bored of getting you off with nothing in return and would request something of you instead. But Simon was like a hungry dog that was tossed a bone; a salivating, grunting mess as he ate you out. And god, you had never felt such pleasure. A tight knot formed in the core of your stomach as he continued drawing shaky moans from you. 

It was divine. Not just in the burning sensations he ripped from your body, but the numbness that settled over your mind. There was no worry, no fake pornographic moans, no acting. There was just you on your back with Simon’s head between your thighs as he devoured you. 

That knot only grew tighter in your body as he continued, and your moans quickly turned into whimpers. Your thighs began to shake and clench uncontrollably, forcing Simon to put a hand on the inside of your legs as a gentle reminder to not smother him before he was done with his meal. 

“I’m… fuck… gonna cum,” you said, words punctuated by heavy breaths as your body instinctively tightened. 

But he didn’t let up, if anything, he moved faster. Tongue ravaging your clit, large hands holding your hips steady, breaths nearly as fast and uneven as yours. Your fingers tightened in his hair like you were holding on for dear life, and maybe you were. Never before had you felt something so sublime yet so close to death at the same time. He continued to pull every single moan and tremble from your body that he could while his groans threatened to overtake yours. 

Something snapped deep inside of you, causing a rush of warmth to flood your entire body. Your breath caught in your throat for a short moment and your legs began to quiver while your orgasm washed over you in a burning heat. Simon held you steady even as your back arched off of the bed. Your mind went blank as you finally breathed again, your entire body shuttering. His tongue continued to work at you, but slowed considerably as your high waned. 

Eventually his mouth left you for the first time in what felt like hours. Simon rose from his knees, carefully pushing you back up onto the bed as he did. A soft sheen coated you as a thin sweat made your body appear to glow. Your eyes felt heavy and your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You felt like you were going to melt into the bed. Hell, you almost wanted to. Melt away into the sheets that smelled like Simon while riding away the last bits of your high seemed like the best way to go. 

The bed dipped down next to you as Simon sat against the headboard, back propped up by a pillow or two. You looked over at him, a smile pulling at your lips as you rolled over, crawling on your hands and knees towards him. 

“Your turn?” you asked, a devilish tint to your voice as you straddled his legs. His jeans were still on, but you knew you could make quick work of it if it came down to it. 

To your surprise, Simon shook his head. That glint in your eyes quickly faded at that, and he reached out for you, pulling you into his chest. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin too, much to your surprise, and as you settled into him, moving so that you were at his side, you couldn’t help but be confused. 

“Might have to take a raincheck on that, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deepening in the way that it did when he was tired. “Fuckin’ exhausted.” 

It made sense. The man did just recently return from being deployed for some mission in The States. But still, it was… odd. No, not odd. Just different. And nice. So, gut wrenchingly nice to be the one taken care of. To have arms wrapped around you, to be held tight, to not feel a burning in your eyes.

To be loved. 

That’s what it was like. It was more than being defended when you were threatened, getting flowers at work, or getting a drive home. Anyone can pretend to be nice. Anyone can pretend to love you. But it takes something different to see you at your most vulnerable, your most exposed, and not take advantage of it. 

“I love you.” The words left your mouth before you even had time to process that they were on the tip of your tongue in the first place. You raised your head off of his chest and looked him in the eyes before repeating yourself. “I love you so fucking much, Simon.” 

Something changed in his expression. His eyes were still warm and exhausted, but something else flickered in there, too. Something faint. Something… sad. But you paid it no mind as one of his hands moved from around your waist to your face, brushing away a stray strand of hair. 

“I suppose I’ve grown fond of you, too,” he said, unable to hide the slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

Really, you weren’t sure what you expected. Sarcasm was Simon’s second language, afterall. So you playfully rolled your eyes at him as you settled back onto his chest. 

“Asshole.” 

But you knew what he meant. 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something burning. It was rancid, and sour, and quite literally stirred you out of your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open. Simon wasn’t in the bed with you, but you noticed that the blanket was smoothed out over your body, and the clothes that had been torn off you the previous night were folded neatly at the foot of the bed. 

Pulling the blanket over your chest, you sat up and glanced around the studio. Simon was in the kitchen, bent over the stove as he cooked what you assumed was bacon. It was difficult to tell over that terrible, charred scent. 

You slipped out of bed and quickly slipped your shirt over your head, not bothering to put on much else besides that. Running your fingers through your hair, you traveled the short distance away from Simon’s bed to the kitchen, where you quickly made your home leaning against the counter. 

“What’cha cooking?” 

He turned to glance at you for a short moment, giving you a quick once over before paying attention to his cooking again. Despite the sleep the two of you got that night, he still looked just as exhausted. You wondered if he got as much sleep as he had pretended to.

“Bacon,” he said simply. 

You hummed in response, watching as he worked the spatula in the pan. However, your eyes began to wander, and just on the other side of him you could make out the source of that foul scent. A few pieces of perfectly cooked toast sat on a plate right next to two, unrecognizably burnt ones. They were casted aside in shame, it looked like, and the sight of it made you giggle. 

“Did you burn toast?” you asked teasingly. 

“I’m a soldier, not a chef,” Simon retorted. 

His response only made you laugh again, and you made your way to the other side of the stove to get a better look at the mess he made. Yet, as you neared it, your eyes were only drawn to the toaster instead. It was an old hunk of metal, and it probably would have worked pretty decent if it didn’t look like it had been thrown down a flight of stairs a time or two. 

“Holy shit. No wonder you burnt it. This thing is fucking ancient,” you said, dumbfounded. 

Simon shrugged. “No use in buying a new one. Hardly here anyways.” 

He was right. With how often and how long he had to leave for work, he was hardly home for half of the year, if that. It was one of the first things you noticed about his apartment. It was a studio, so it was small, and hardly had the essentials. At first you chalked it up to him being a soldier, used to not having much and surviving on so little. But maybe it was something else. 

Still, you shook that thought out of your head as you looked over at him. “Do you want to move in together?” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see every muscle in Simon’s body tense. He turned to face you fully, spatula still in hand as he looked down at you. “Huh?” 

“Think about it,” you said, reaching out to grab that sad, burnt toast. “You say you’re hardly here. If you moved in, we could spend more time together while you’re home, and I can take care of your things while you’re gone.” You paused as you turned around and walked towards the trash. “You won't have a shitty toaster. I’ve got two bedrooms, so there will be plenty of room for your stuff. And, I don’t know. I think it would be nice. You’ve always taken such good care of me, and I’d like to do the same for you.” 

The toast fell into the trash with an unnaturally hard thunk before you turned around to face Simon. He had followed your every move and stood with his back turned to the cooking bacon. His gaze was quizzical, confused almost. Like he was wondering why you would ask such a thing. But then, he looked away and turned his back towards you as he took the bacon out of the pan and set it on a plate on the counter. 

“Are you asking, or just thinking?” he questioned. 

“I’m being serious,” you assured him. 

But his back stayed turned to you as he patted the bacon dry with a paper towel, soaking up any unnecessary grease. It was almost like he wasn’t taking you seriously. No, there was no way he didn’t know you were being serious. Maybe he just couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that someone like you could ever be with him. 

So you took a step forward, feet sliding across the tile floor of the kitchen until you were by his side again. His eyes stayed focused on his work as he began setting the plates. Bacon and toast wasn’t exactly a five star meal by any means, but it was enough for you. 

“You can tell me if it’s too soon,” you said as you leaned against the counter. 

Simon picked up one of the plates and turned to face you. He held it out for you to take as his eyes flickered down to the food. “My lease is up in three months.” 

Simon Riley was a strange man. It was something you were able to pick up about him the very moment you met him. And even with all the time the two of you had spent together, getting to know one another, he was still guarded, in a way. Never one to say I love you. Never one to say yes. But his eyes betrayed every word he ever left on the tip of his tongue, and when he looked at you, his mouth nearly did too. 

“Great,” you said softly, unable to hide your grin as you took the plate from his hands. “Three months, then.” 

Things were so much easier when you weren’t around. When you weren’t standing in front of him, looking up at him like he was your whole world. He used to focus on his work and nothing but it, not caring about the state of his apartment or what food he had to come home to. There was work, and then there was the time in between. That was all it was supposed to be. 

Until you. Where he used to see the skulls that haunted his past, his dreams became littered with your face. Everything in him constantly craved the touch of your skin, the feel of your lips against his, the sound of your voice, your smile. He had faced terrorists and death, had died and crawled out of his grave, but he wasn’t sure if he could survive what you were doing to him. But god, at that point, he would let you destroy him.

[tencrushesperday]

Sparks Fly

matt rempe x reader

warnings: angst, 1k

i was doing friendship bracelets for the eras tour with my friend bc she’s going and we were listening to speak now and i knew i had to write something for matt, and i had also seen this pic of matt with wet hair and i knew i had to fit the lyrics of the song

You had to tell Matt about the job offer you had gotten. It was the only one you got since you finished your degree. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t your dream job. But it would pay the taxes and it was in your field of choice so it would have to do.

You had also convinced yourself that with his growing popularity, soon he wouldn’t care for you. You would never think him capable of cheating. But who said he would never get bored of you. You were repeating to yourself that you were doing the both of you a favour.

He walked out of the locker room, hair still wet from the shower, cheeks flushed. He was such a sight to behold. The thought that he was your boyfriend still seemed bizarre sometimes.

He grinned when his eyes laid on you. “Hey beautiful” He bent down to kiss your cheek and you closed your eyes to encapsulate as much of this feeling as you could.

You turned in his hold to wrap your arms around his waist to hug him. A real hug. You squeezed as hard as you could and basked in the warmth of his touch. Maybe you could go back to his apartment tonight? Just spend one more night in his arms to remember every curve and hollow of his body.

But you pulled away and looked up at him “I have something to tell you Matt.”, and grabbed his hand to drag him further into a corner.

He looked at you expectantly and you had to force the words out of your mouth “I got a job offer.”.

A smile grew on his face, “That’s amazing !! Congratulations! Isn’t that good news? Why do you look so sad?” Your heart broke at his excitement.

“It’s in London”

“London, Ontario, right?” A bittersweet chuckle escaped your lips at his almost cute denial.

“London as in the capital of the United Kingdom.” his excited expression was replaced by one of confusion.

Your head dropped at your next words, “I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you before. I leave next week for the interview while you’ll be away on the road. I’m so sorry for telling you about it so late.”, they were full of shame.

He was speechless so you continued, left hand on his chest as if to make sure his heart was still beating, still warm underneath your touch, “I’ll probably take it. I don’t really have a choice. I’ll go by your apartment after you leave to get my stuff and leave my spare key. I’m so sorry for doing it this way. Good bye.”

Your hand dropped as you turned around and left the building. Realization slowly downed on Matthew. You haven’t said the words. But you just broke up with him.

———————

The interview had gone well and you were back in New York a week later to clean out your apartment.

The rain was pouring outside but you had to get your belongings into the moving van. Your lease was ending in two days so you had to move it to your parents’ place until you would find a place in London.

The movers had just loaded your couch into the truck when you heard someone call your name. You could recognise that voice amongst a thousand others.

When you turned around you found Matthew standing a few feet away, all wet from the rain, hair draped messily over his eyes. “Don’t leave.” he said through ragged breaths “Don’t go to London. Drop everything now.”

He was taking tentative steps forward as if not to scare you away. “I don’t want you to leave. It may sound selfish but I need you here. This week away from you has been one of the worst weeks in my life.”

He was right. This last week had been so dull. Everything felt wrong. It had rained all week. There was a storm that had delayed your flight to London by 4 hours. The thought of getting off the plane had crossed your mind more than once.

He was now standing in front of you on the side walk. His height towering over you and you just wanted to crash your body into his, to cower from the whole world and hide into him. “It feels like I don’t have anything to go back home to. My bed hasn’t felt like my own since I know you won’t be sleeping there every other night.” You were holding his gaze like you were holding your ground. With all your crumbling will.

“New York is chanting your name right now. You have so much success. You will find someone else to warm your bed and forget me in an instant.” The rain was kind for blending in your tears with its drops on your cheeks. It failed to hide the crack in your voice.

He laughed at your words, looking away from you for a second “Don’t give me that bullshit. Are you even listening to me? Do you think I want anyone else just to warm my bed? I couldn’t look at another girl if I wanted to. It’s you that I want.” And you believed him. Every word. A smile cracked its way on your face, through the pain and the tears. You were like a house of cards around him because you always knew there was no use putting up walls with him.

“I love you.” he had never said those words before. It took you a moment to register them. Eyes wide, mouth falling agape. To hell with reason.

You grabbed his shirt and tugged him down towards you. Your lips crashed on his before you could find words to answer his confession. Every emotion you felt this past week was poured into that kiss. Sadness, desperation, longing, passion, love. Love.

All the arguments you had previously prepared, all the reasons you convinced yourself were good enough fled your mind at the moment. And there was only him.

His hands were on your face, then on your neck, your shoulder, your back, your hips. He had you pressed against him, his shirt wrapped tightly in your fist. You were holding each other as if the other was about to disappear, as if you needed each other to survive.

Both of you were panting when you pulled apart. Through an exhale, you whispered “I love you too.”

He let his forehead fall against yours, “Then stay. We’ll figure it out.”

They say sparks fly when you’re with the right person. There was a firework show around you.

[flemingsfreckles]

Replacement Part 2

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Other chapter HERE!

Warnings: none, language, it’s a tiny bit angsty I guess

WC: 2.7k

A/N: I’ve been struggling to write this to say the least… I’ve got certain scenes written, I’m just struggling with making those scenes come together in a fluid way 🤷‍♀️ hopefully things ease up and I’ll be able to get this series rolling

You spent the next day ignoring Jessie’s texts, thankfully not having practice today meant you could avoid Janine’s questions as to why you were being so stand offish to Jessie as well.

However when you did walk into the locker room the following day, there was Janine. You greet her with a smile and a wave and she returns with a cold glance and a whisper of a hello.

“What’s up with you today?” She’s sitting down in her cubby just a few over from yours.

“Why didn't you text back Jessie?” Her voice is hushed despite the locker room being nearly empty. You knew it was coming, you knew Janine would ask.

“I- '' You start to think, you couldn't sit here and tell Janine it's because you wanted nothing to do with her Canadian teammate. You wanted her to go back to London, back to where she wasn't a threat to your playing time, you wanted her anywhere else. Instead you play dumb. “I just, I opened the text late at night, I didn’t want to wake her if she was already asleep, and I guess I forgot to respond in the morning. That's my bad.”

She gives you a questioning look. “Alright, but maybe text her back, I really think you two would get along, I mean you'll meet her today so, forget it whatever.” You give her a nod and find your way over to your locker, noticing the locker next to yours, where Weaver used to be set up, is now empty, Morgan’s name plate is now sitting two lockers away. You ignore it and sit down, starting to change into your practice kit. You change your socks, shorts, and shirt before you make your way around and down the hallway to where all the boots were stored, you grab yours out and turn to head back to your cubby. You hear increased chatter coming from the locker room and when you walk in you see why.

Sinc is standing in the middle of the room holding the shoulders of a shorter player in front of her. You realize Jessie must have arrived given the line of teammates standing in front of her to greet her. You turn your focus back to walking toward your cubby, you sit down and begin unlacing your boots, occupying yourself with them instead of the excitement revolving around the new girl, you’d meet her eventually.

It takes two tries for you to tie your boots comfortably, accidentally pulling way too hard on the laces the first attempt, cutting off the blood circulation to your feet temporarily. As you begin to retie them you see a pair of feet come to stand next to you, facing the empty locker. You feel a bag get set down, you already knew what was happening.

“Hi.” you look up to see Jessie smiling down at you, she's got a hand extended out to you.

You take a second to look at her. You had never met her in person, you’d seen her play before but never been this close to her. She’s smaller than you thought she would be, you knew she wasn’t tall but you now realize that if you stand up her eyes would probably line up with your mouth. She’s got a hat on, her hair is down resting at a length just above her shoulders. The brown of her eyes is lighter than the brown of her hair and her face is covered in freckles. You look down to her big smile, looking at her lips for a moment before snapping out of your thoughts realizing you’ve been sizing up the girl for a little too long.

You reach out your hand, taking hers giving it a shake before you return your focus back to your shoes.

“Hey. Guess this is your cubby now?”

“Uh yeah, I guess they reorganized it for numerical order or whatever, I feel bad they had to shift everyone, I really didn't mind being at the end, it would've been fine. I didn't want to come in here and disturb the system, but the equipment team insisted. I guess it's easier for them, I don't know.” She rambles at you. “Sorry, I don't know why I’m telling you all this.”

You go back to fixing your shoes as Jessie gets ready for practice, you couldn't help but be annoyed by all of your fellow teammates making their way over to Jesies locker, standing conveniently in front of you to talk to her. You listened to them all say how they are looking forward to getting to know her, how they were excited for her to be joining the team, how they were excited for her to be bringing in talent into the midfield, unintentionally insulting you.

As the next few weeks of preseason training went by you could feel your playing time slipping through your fingers. All of those minutes falling into the lap of Jessie.

She was perfect and that pissed you off. You watched her everyday at practice. She was everything you were and also everything you weren’t. She was more tactful than you, she knew more about other players than you, she was faster than you, she rarely made a bad pass, hardly ever missed a pass coming to her, she made clean touches, she was an ideal midfielder.

On top of being a damn good player she was too nice. She was nice to everyone, all the time. It drove you crazy. She was especially nice to you. She would chat with you while you dressed for training, you thought maybe she’d get the hint when you only gave her one to two worded answers and never really initiated a conversation but she didn’t. She’d offer small words of encouragement during practice as well as helping explain what a coach was trying to get across to you, she’d answer questions in meetings and it seemed she always had the right answer.

During her second week, she walked in with Janine, two coffees in her hand before she made her way over to you. She extended her arm and before you could ask her what she was doing she explained for you. “Janine and I stopped for coffee, I figured we’d get you one too, Janine said it was one of your favorite places.”

“Oh, thanks.” You found the interaction a little weird but it was probably Janine’s idea anyway to get you the coffee. You look across the locker room and catch Janine’s eye before raising the cup and shouting her a thanks. You forgot about the surprise coffee incident until a few days later when Jessie brought you a muffin.

She once again stopped in front of where you sat, hand outstretched in your direction with a muffin in her hand. You recognized the muffin, lemon with a blueberry glaze on it. “Uh, Janine mentioned how much you like these when she and I were at the coffee shop a few weeks ago, she said they’re always out and it’s hard to find them, they had them this morning, I remembered so I got it for you.”

You looked from her to the muffin in her hand. The genuineness of her offer was frustrating you, she truly was just being a kind person, but to you it felt manipulative. Like she was trying to somehow get under your skin, into your brain, she brought you treats and coffees, somehow it would lead to your downfall. That’s what ran through your head every time she walked in with something for you.

“What do I owe you?” You reach for your wallet.

“Oh, no, nothing, it’s just a gift.” She shakes the muffin at you, you finally take it from her and she sits down into her cubby next to yours.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” You place the snack into your cubby for safe keeping, you were definitely going to eat that after practice.

“I just wanted to.” She responds with a smile before changing into her practice gear.

The small gifts didn’t stop. She’d bring you coffee or a snack every once in a while which you politely would accept but you couldn’t fathom why she kept doing it. You couldn’t lie, the more it happened the more genuine your thank yous became, it made you feel a little fuzzy inside when she’d hand it to you and your fingers would brush against each other. As if the two of you could maybe be friends at some point. But then you’d go on the field and that feeling would be gone as she would outperform you again and again. You’d see the coffee cup upon returning to the locker room and suddenly have the urge to throw it out, to not let Jessie continue to think you were friends, you weren’t, she was competition. The cycle of hating her, to being a civil acquaintance for just a little bit before training and then back to hating her on the field continued day in and day out, week after week.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when the first game came around and you found yourself as a substitute. You tried to keep your emotions at bay as Jessie’s name was listed in the position yours typically was. You clenched and unclenched your jaw, trying to ignore the frustration bubbling up. When you walk to your cubby Jessie is already there, getting dressed.

“Hello.” She smiles at you as she changes her shirt. Her tone happy, upbeat, of course she was happy, she was starting.

“Hey.” Your tone was the opposite, monotone, dull, no sense of excitement.

“Are you excited for the game?” Jessie continued on. You just shrug in her direction before putting in headphones and sitting down to put on your socks. “A woman of many words.” Jessie is still smiling at you when you look up at her. “Come on, be excited, it’s the start of the season!” She gently shakes your shoulder before turning away to go talk with Janine. You look across the room and catch Sam’s eye, she raises an eyebrow in your direction and you see her stand up quickly looking down at the ground.

Sam finds her way to your cubby. “What’s up with you?”

“Huh?” You pull a headphone from your ear and look up at her.

“You’re moping, you’re quiet, it’s so obvious you’re not yourself and you haven’t been.” She’s standing one hand on her hip looking down at you. She must’ve noticed the way you looked around the room to all your teammates standing within earshot. “Alright equipment office, let’s go.” She points a finger in the direction of the always empty office.

You follow her in and quickly hop on the desk, grabbing the pen that’s sat on it to begin fidgeting with it.

“Talk to me.” Sam crosses her arms leaning against the door.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, lying straight through your teeth. “Just in a mood, woke up on the wrong side of the bed I guess.”

“Okay, bullshit. I’m not stupid. You’ve been waking up on the wrong side of the bed all pre-season, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you’re lying. Are you unhappy here? Did something happen in your life? Because you’ve been weird for weeks and I’ve tried, Janine has tried, but you just shrug everyone off, so what gives?”

“Janine’s too busy with her now, I’m surprised she noticed.” You mumble it and you really don’t mean for Sam to hear it but she does. It was true though, you found yourself spending less and less time with Janine. Despite what she had promised you in the car before Jessie’s arrival, you felt replaced. You’d invite her out for a walk, she’d already be with Jessie, she’d invite you to dinner before conveniently mentioning Jessie would be there too. You felt like not only had Jessie come in and taken your spot on the team, she had taken over your spot in Janine’s life.

“Is that what this is all about? Her? Jessie?” Sam makes her way over to you.

You shake your head, it was, but it also wasn’t. It was more about the fact that you were being replaced, not just used as a sub. “I don’t know Sam.”

“I think you do, you just don’t want to say it.”

You throw your hands up toward the door. “It’s so obvious she’s here to replace me.”

“She’s not.” Sam tries to wrap an arm around your shoulder but you stand up before she can. You didn’t need her sympathy or whatever she was trying to do here. You were frustrated, annoyed, she wasn’t helping.

“Don’t lie.”

“I'm not!” Sam tries to explain to you but you don’t want to hear it.

“Hard to argue when she’s starting instead of me today.” Fed up with everyone, you push past Sam back into the locker room, not saying anything to anyone you throw on your warm up shirt and head out to the pitch early just to escape.

The game is relatively uneventful for the first half. You want nothing to do with watching Jessie play but it seems to be all you can do. Your eyes are constantly on her, as if none of your other teammates or the opponents exist. You watch how she effortlessly can make space for herself, how she can make accurate passes barely having to look at the other players, everything she does is clean. She makes an assist just before the half you cheer for a moment, happy to take the lead before a sinking feeling builds in your stomach.

The second half starts with you kicking your feet together as you sat on the bench still. It isn't until 30 minutes remaining that you get told to start warming up and it’s not until 61 minutes that you are standing next to the referee as Jessie’s number is lit up in red and yours is in green. She gives you a high five as you sub on but you don’t listen to the words she says telling you to do well.

You don’t do much for the remaining 29 minutes only getting a few touches, nothing good but also nothing bad. The game ends with a victory and you start walking around the pitch with your teammates.

Jessie finds her way to your side. “You had some nice passes.”

You look at her, feeling as if her comment is almost backhanded. It wasn’t backhanded, Jessie was genuinely complimenting your playing, she meant nothing negative by the comment, you did have some good passes. You just look at her, no smile, no words, nothing.

“You alright?” Jessie presses.

“Look, Jessie, I’m really not interested in talking to you right now.”

You can’t miss the look of confusion, hurt, and sadness across her face. “Oh, okay, I’m sorry.” She stops walking, letting you walk off ahead of her, you continue to walk alone around, signing a few things, taking a few photos but then making your way into the locker room.

You get undressed and shower quickly before coming back to your locker when Jessie walks up. The tension is obvious between the two, she didn’t greet you like normal, she barely acknowledges your existence. You look up to her. She still has a sad expression on her face, she refuses to make eye contact with you as she grabs her stuff and walks away. You notice Janine’s cold stare when she walks past you as you’re headed out of the room your backpack already packed and on your back.

“That was a dick move. She’s just trying to be your friend.”She mutters to you as you pass her. For a second you think about turning around, telling Janine how despite her promise to you that your friendship wouldn’t change, it had, how she had abandoned you the second Jessie showed up. You debate telling her you want nothing to do with Jessie, that you hate her but she’s too damn nice that you can’t outright shoot her down. But you don’t, you keep it in and continue to walk down the hallway. You open up the door to a rainy evening, leaving your head down you pull your hood up and make your way to your car.

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - August 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. Smart hives and dancing robot bees could boost sustainable beekeeping

“[Researchers] developed a digital comb—a thin circuit board equipped with various sensors around which bees build their combs. Several of these in each hive can then transmit data to researchers, providing real-time monitoring. [… Digital comb] can [also] be activated to heat up certain parts of a beehive […] to keep the bees warm during the winter[…. N]ot only have [honeybee] colonies reacted positively, but swarm intelligence responds to the temperature changes by reducing the bees' own heat production, helping them save energy.”

2. Babirusa pigs born at London Zoo for first time

“Thanks to their gnarly tusks […] and hairless bodies, the pigs are often called "rat pigs" or "demon pigs” in their native Indonesia[….] “[The piglets] are already looking really strong and have so much energy - scampering around their home and chasing each other - it’s a joy to watch. They’re quite easy to tell apart thanks to their individual hair styles - one has a head of fuzzy red hair, while its sibling has a tuft of dark brown hair.””

3. 6,000 sheep will soon be grazing on 10,000 acres of Texas solar fields

“The animals are more efficient than lawn mowers, since they can get into the nooks and crannies under panel arrays[….] Mowing is also more likely to kick up rocks or other debris, damaging panels that then must be repaired, adding to costs. Agrivoltaics projects involving sheep have been shown to improve the quality of the soil, since their manure is a natural fertilizer. […] Using sheep instead of mowers also cuts down on fossil fuel use, while allowing native plants to mature and bloom.”

4. Florida is building the world's largest environmental restoration project

“Florida is embarking on an ambitious ecological restoration project in the Everglades: building a reservoir large enough to secure the state's water supply. […] As well as protecting the drinking water of South Floridians, the reservoir is also intended to dramatically reduce the algae-causing discharges that have previously shut down beaches and caused mass fish die-offs.”

5. The Right to Repair Movement Continues to Accelerate

“Consumers can now demand that manufacturers repair products [including mobile phones….] The liability period for product defects is extended by 12 months after repair, incentivising repairs over replacements. [… M]anufacturers may need to redesign products for easier disassembly, repair, and durability. This could include adopting modular designs, standardizing parts, and developing diagnostic tools for assessing the health of a particular product. In the long run, this could ultimately bring down both manufacturing and repair costs.”

6. Federal Judge Rules Trans Teen Can Play Soccer Just In Time For Her To Attend First Practice

“Today, standing in front of a courtroom, attorneys for Parker Tirrell and Iris Turmelle, two transgender girls, won an emergency temporary restraining order allowing Tirrell to continue playing soccer with her friends. […] Tirrell joined her soccer team last year and received full support from her teammates, who, according to the filing, are her biggest source of emotional support and acceptance.”

7. Pilot study uses recycled glass to grow plants for salsa ingredients

“"We're trying to reduce landfill waste at the same time as growing edible vegetables," says Andrea Quezada, a chemistry graduate student[….] Early results suggest that the plants grown in recyclable glass have faster growth rates and retain more water compared to those grown in 100% traditional soil. [… T]he pots that included any amount of recyclable glass [also] didn't have any fungal growth.”

8. Feds announce funding push for ropeless fishing gear that spares rare whales

“Federal fishing managers are promoting the use of ropeless gear in the lobster and crab fishing industries because of the plight of North Atlantic right whales. […] Lobster fishing is typically performed with traps on the ocean bottom that are connected to the surface via a vertical line. In ropeless fishing methods, fishermen use systems such an inflatable lift bag that brings the trap to the surface.”

9. Solar farms can benefit nature and boost biodiversity. Here’s how

“[… M]anaging solar farms as wildflower meadows can benefit bumblebee foraging and nesting, while larger solar farms can increase pollinator densities in surrounding landscapes[….] Solar farms have been found to boost the diversity and abundance of certain plants, invertebrates and birds, compared to that on farmland, if solar panels are integrated with vegetation, even in urban areas.”

10. National Wildlife Federation Forms Tribal Advisory Council to Guide Conservation Initiatives, Partnerships

“The council will provide expertise and consultation related to respecting Indigenous Knowledges; wildlife and natural resources; Indian law and policy; Free, Prior and Informed Consent[… as well as] help ensure the Federation’s actions honor and respect the experiences and sovereignty of Indigenous partners.”

August 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)