#home moving services in London

[vansandhands]

Guide on Moving House With Pets

Website: www.vansandhands.com

Moving homes with pets can be confusing and anxiety-inducing for pets. To ensure a smooth transition, it is essential to visit your current veterinarian, arrange a separate room or space for pets, and consider other options like hiring a pet sitter or booking a kennel or cattery. Ensure your pet is tethered securely in your vehicle and has all necessary vaccinations.

 Read Top Tips for Moving Homes with Pets in the UK, to learn more.

Take a stroll around your new neighborhood in the days leading up to the move to help them adjust to new situations. Let home moving services in London know about any pets moving with you upfront, especially if you are transporting exotic species like tropical fish, reptiles, or amphibians.

On D-day, use pheromone diffusers to help pets relax and avoid anxiety. Regularly check in with your pet, lock any doors and windows behind you, and provide them with clean water and toys to keep them occupied. Plan meals carefully, avoiding feeding your pets two hours before the move to prevent travel sickness.

To move homes with pets in the UK, it’s essential to stay at home for the first few days, update their details, be patient, and ensure each room is secure. Keep cats indoors for a week, and alert former neighbors about the move if they see them. If your pet exhibits signs of sadness or depression, seek expert assistance. Be gentle with your pet and don’t panic!

[mtcremovalsposts]

St James Moving and Storage Company

Welcome to St. James Jame’s Removals Company, where excellence meets efficiency in every move. Whether it’s a residential relocation or a commercial move, we’ve got you covered with our top-tier services.

[readwritealldayallnight]

You haven’t noticed him yet.

Lost in the words printed on the pages, you haven’t glanced up from your book since Simon stepped out of the shower, peeking at your figure through the window panes.

You’re out on the small, cramped balcony of your shared London flat, curled into yourself to squeeze all your limbs as comfortably as you can onto the wicker chair.

The half empty cup of tea sitting on the small side table next to you is no longer as warm as it was when you first brought it out. Without a second thought, Simon goes to warm up the kettle again, not wanting you to get cold.

He frowns as your fingers quickly catch the edge of your book before the wind can flip your current page away, your hair being blown away from your face. He spots the tiny shiver that goes through you and decides he’ll bring out a throw blanket for you as well. Maybe one of his hoodies.

You’d teased him about something like this the other day, after he’d finished tucking your chair in at a local cafe. Saying that his love language was sooo obviously acts of service.

He’d playfully rolled his eyes, joking about how yours must be to never stop talking, chuckling at the half hearted kick he received underneath the table, before you explained that that wasn’t what love languages are.

Simon wasn’t so sure about that whole idea. All he knew was that he liked taking care of you, just as you took care of him. Simple as that.

He knows he always feels lighter after you send him a thankful smile any time he carries your bag for you or opens your door.

He knows you can’t stop smiling for at least a minute any time you swipe an eyelash off his cheek, carefully holding it in front of his lips so he can blow it away and ‘make a wish’.

He knows his chest always swells with pride any time you compliment his cooking, whether he attempted a dish on his own or simply added a seasoning to something you were already making.

He knows all the tension disappears from your shoulders when you’re sat in his lap, gently wiping away his black face paint from around his eyes, taking extra care around his delicate skin, humming a soft little melody for the both of you to hear.

He knows there isn’t anything in this entire god forsaken earth that makes him happier, than making you happy.

That’s why he’s been secretly looking into a new place for the two of you. This tiny shoebox of a flat had been fine when it was just him crashing here a handful of times a year between missions. When you got together and began spending more time sleeping here than at your own place, it only made sense to move in once your lease was up.

But now your books are piled in stacks along the baseboards, the closet can barely contain your clothes mixed in together, and the sight of you sitting out on that cramped balcony just doesn’t sit right with him.

He wants to give you a proper place, a home. He wants to be able to give you an actual yard with room to sprawl out and grow a garden if you want, or just lay out a picnic blanket and read until the sun sets.

He wants to hear you nag him about mowing the lawn, or raking the leaves, or shovelling the driveway. He wants to run out into a sudden summer storm with you to quickly pull off the laundry that had been drying on the clothes line, laughing the entire time.

As though sensing his gaze on you, you slowly lift your head, a chuckle slipping past his lips as your eyes immediately light up with excitement, a sweet smile gracing your lips as you send him a wave.

He lifts his hand, waggling his fingers back at you, the same corny grin on his face, knowing that there isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for you.

[wosospacegirl]

Do you know that tiktok couples prank that someone offers their partner to do something hard, like helping a friend move houses and see how the partner reacts? Could you write that with Leah?

Lift it up the stairs - Leah Williamson

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: hi! sorry it took me so long, here it is:

..

Leah had just been given a week's vacation from Arsenal. It was one of those rare dates on the football calendar when she didn’t have to worry about a thing.

Arsenal didn’t matter, the Lionesses didn’t matter, and football didn’t matter at all. And Leah was serious when she said she was taking a break from football. When she got home, the first thing she did was grab Y/n by the waist and throw both of them onto the sofa.

“No more football,” Leah mumbled, resting her head on Y/n’s thigh, allowing Y/n to run her hands through her hair. “No ball, no training, no boots, no nothing for a whole week.”

“You deserve it, baby,” Y/n said, giving Leah a gentle kiss on the lips. “Now your focus is on resting and on me.”

Leah smirked. “You?”

“Yep!” Y/n said before Leah changed their positions so she was on top of her. “I can certainly do that.”

Two days passed and, although Leah claimed she didn’t need football, she was rather grumpy without it. It was like she couldn’t get used to a routine without the sport.

So Y/n thought of a fun thing to do, something different.

And unfortunately for Leah, it didn’t involve any sexual acts.

Y/n pretended to use her phone, but in reality, she was filming Leah. The angle was very bad though; it almost cut Leah’s head off the screen, but Y/n didn't mind—she wasn’t going to post it anyway.

She set her alarm to play the same song as when her phone rang and then began her show.

Leah was sitting on the other side of the sofa, doing sudoku in her pyjamas. Her hair was in a ponytail—the same one she did every day for training—even though they hadn't even left the house today.

“Hey, babes, what’s up?” Y/n said, pretending to speak with someone on the other end.

As usual, Leah didn’t look up from her sudoku, her eyes narrowed as she concentrated on the numbers in front of her.

“Yeah, she’s on vacation right now, but we’re still in London. We chose not to travel this time.”

Y/n knew Leah well enough to notice how her attention slightly shifted toward the conversation. Leah knew Y/n was talking about something that involved her, but still, her eyes remained glued to the paper.

“Oh really?! Already?” Y/n faked surprise in her voice, and that’s when Leah looked up, a grumpy expression on her face.

“Can you speak quieter? I’m almost done–” Leah began saying, not loud enough for whoever was supposedly on the other end to hear her.

Y/n ignored her. “Of course, Leah can help you, she doesn’t have anything else to do anyway.”

And that’s when Leah’s head snapped up.

“What do you mean I have nothing to do? I have plenty–”

Y/n quickly put a finger on Leah’s mouth, shutting her up. She pressed the phone against her chest. “Baby! I’m talking to Laia, please be quiet.”

Leah crossed her arms, watching Y/n as she kept going with her prank.

“What was that, Laia? You need help taking a fridge up the stairs?” Y/n asked. “Yeah, Leah will be there to help you, no problem.”

“What?!” Leah argued, putting the sudoku completely aside and sitting next to Y/n. “What are you on about? Why are you offering me?”

“Because you’re strong, Leah,” Y/n said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Laia told me the fridge is not heavy at all.”

“But–”

“Sorry, Laia. Yeah, she’ll totally come over to give you a hand.”

In a quick motion, Leah took the phone from Y/n’s hands.

“Hey, Laia, sorry about that, Y/n is in a silly mood right now,” Leah began, talking into the phone and giving Y/n an ugly look. “I can’t help you, mate, but I’m sure there’s like… a service you can hire to do that kind of stuff.”

Leah waited for Laia’s voice, but it never came. She took the phone from her ear and looked at it. It wasn’t even on the calling screen.

“Did she hang up?” Leah asked, confused.

“Yep, I think she got mad that you didn’t want to help her,” Y/n said, prolonging the lie just a little more. “Now her food will all go to waste since she doesn’t have a freezer to put it in.”

“Oh, we can just invite her to dinner some night to make up for it.” Leah rolled her eyes and got back to her sudoku. “Don’t know what you were thinking, offering me—have you seen my arms? They’re small,” she huffed, writing a number down on the sudoku paper.

“But you’re her captain, you’re supposed to help your teammates out!”

“I’m on vacation, princess. Right now, I’m just Leah.” Leah said, putting her feet on Y/n’s lap. “I just wanna relax! I’ve told you that—no football also means no teammates!”

“But I’m your teammate,” Y/n pouted.

“Right now, you’re just my girlfriend,” Leah said smugly. “A girlfriend who thinks I’m stronger than I am.”

Y/n laughed—it was time to disclose the prank.

She shifted on the sofa, putting Leah’s sudoku aside while she sat on her lap. Leah was staring at her mouth shamelessly.

“It’s a prank,” Y/n said straightforwardly, planting a kiss on Leah’s face. “Sorry.”

Leah gently placed a hand on Y/n’s neck, making the girl look at her. “A prank? What prank?”

“Laia never called. It’s a TikTok trend—to pretend to offer your girlfriend to do something and see how she reacts,” Y/n explained, smiling as Leah just looked at her.

“Are you serious, bro?” Leah asked, throwing her head back. “I’m gonna delete TikTok from your phone.”

“No, you’re not! This prank helped me see that if one of our friends needed this kind of help, you’d be useless,” Y/n joked. “But at the same time, you’re right–”

Y/n took one of Leah’s arms in her hands. “Your arms aren’t that strong.”

“Excuse me?!” Leah said, offended. “If I wanted to, I very well could lift a fridge upstairs! I’m not weak.”

“I didn’t say you’re weak! I just said that–”

Leah took Y/n from her lap and quickly reached for her phone. Y/n looked at her, confused.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to peek over Leah’s shoulder. “Let me see it.” Y/n stomped her feet.

“I’m buying us a fridge,” Leah stated. “The biggest one.”

Y/n looked at Leah as if she was out of her mind. “I’m sorry. Our freezer is good, why are you buying a new one?!”

“To show you I can lift it up the stairs,” Leah murmured grumpily.

“Leah. No,” Y/n said as if talking to a toddler. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“Done!” Leah said, showing Y/n the phone screen of the online purchase she had just made.

Y/n threw herself dramatically onto the sofa. “Bloody hell! Why are you like that?”

Leah lay down on top of Y/n and whispered in her ear. “Because you doubted me, and now I have to prove you wrong.”

“You realise how immature that is, right?” Y/n said, feeling Leah's soft lips brushing against her collarbone. “And don’t try to use sex to make me forget it.”

Leah chuckled. “I’m just kissing you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Y/n said. “Now we have to find another place to put our freezer!”

Leah sucked on Y/n’s neck. “We can think about it later. Just enjoy yourself.”

Y/n learned two things:

Leah indeed had strong feelings because, in the end—after struggling a lot—she did carry the fridge upstairs to their apartment. Leah indeed used sex to make her forget about having two freezers lying around in the kitchen.

..

Please let me know what you guys think! Feedback is very important!

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (1)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Emily Scott, sister of legendary lionesses Jill Scott, has died at the age of 21. Wife Amelia Scott-Higgins in intensive care. 

Police have confirmed that Emily Scott was murdered in her family home over the weekend, her wife, Matilda’s star Amelia Scott-Higgins is in intensive care after sustaining life threatening injuries. 

Waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and in heaps of pain was not exactly how I expected my day to go but here we are. I don’t remember much. I remember going home after training, I stopped to get dinner, chicken carbonara and garlic bread from our favourite Italian restaurant and then flowers from the corner stand that Emily was obsessed with. I was already late so who cares if I was a little extra late. 

I remember the front gate being open, which is never normally the case, I remember the front door being unlocked but closed, again not normal but sometimes Em is in a rush when she gets home. As I took my shoes and coat off and wandered down the hallway, I didn’t notice the guy standing behind the door, or the guy on the couch, or Emily in the back room tied to a chair. I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I noticed before it went black was the two wine glasses, one tipped over and smashed, the other full. 

Chelsea FC superstar, Amelia Scott-Higgins has QUIT mid season. 

CLICK TO READ MORE….

Where is football superstar Amelia Scott-Higgins?

Moving to Barcelona was the best thing I could’ve done. No one knows me,no one knows what happened or who Emily was. I am invisible. As soon as I could, I quit, left England, deleted all my social media and changed my number. 

The rehab was incredibly hard. That’s to be expected considering I have multiple stab wounds to my stomach, my leg cut up, bruises covering every part of my body. I was still me though. Maybe not on the surface but deep down I was. I missed Emily everyday, I missed our life together, I miss the little things. 

My apartment was empty. Nothing on the walls, plain furniture, it looked more like a show house than something someone would actually lived in. It didn’t bother me, it made my brain have to work less. All I did was rehab, surf and doom scroll. I came across the Manuelas instagram page, a gay bar in Barcelona. From what I’ve heard it’s incredibly popular but I’ve never been. They had a shirt available, “lesbian services”, after inquiring they allowed for me to pick it up. 

I was meeting someone called Olga, slightly worried as I had no idea who she was, I let it play out. 

“Hola! Are you Amelia?” 

“Hola, yes I am.” 

“Perfect! I’m Olga! Let me take you inside and you can get whatever you want. They said you’ve paid so you can get anything.” 

Stickers, hats, shirts, they had it all. I grabbed one of everything and then had a chat with Olga. 

“You’re not around here are you? Your Catalan and Spanish is good but the accent is a bit weird.” 

“Oh nah. I’m Australian. Lived in London for a few years but I’m here now.” 

“Oh wow! How long have you lived here?”

“3 years now. It’s beautiful. I don’t get out much but I’m trying to get out more.”

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Uh um, I used to play -“ 

“Amelia? Is that you?” Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze. Right in front of me. I haven’t seen them for 3 years, purposely ignoring all of them and essentially falling off the face of the earth. 

“Amelia! What are you doing here? Give me a hug!” 

“Hey guys. Long time so see.” This is not what I wanted. More and more people started surrounding us. 

“Holy shit. That’s Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s been MIA for so long. I miss watching her” the short one with dimples tried to whisper, it didn’t work. 

“Dude she used to be so good. What happened?” Her taller companion asked next. 

“That’s enough you two. She has ears and can hear you idiots.” Alexia Putellas. 2 time Ballon d’or and 2 time pain in my ass. “Hola Amelia. How are you?” 

“Fine thanks Alexia. And you?” 

“How do you all know each other? I am very confused here.” Olga spoke up. 

“Mil used to play for-“ Alexia started to say

“We are old friends!” This is why I don’t leave my house. 

“I need to go. I have things to do. Olga thank you so much for all this. If I owe any money let me know. Alexia, girls, it was nice to see you. Good luck this season.” Turning as quickly as I could to escape. 

“Milly, wait.”

“Kei, don’t. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Please can I have your number or something? It’s been 3 years and you disappeared.” 

“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in. I’m not good at replying. Bye Kei.” 

3 years since I stepped foot in England, 3 years since I buried my wife. 3 years since I’d spoken to my friends. 4 years since Emily died. 4 years since I played football, 4 years since I felt normal. 

[moonknightsonata]

Acts of Service

pairing: moon system x reader, marc x reader centered

summary: You learn Steven and Jake’s love languages quickly, Marc’s takes a little longer to realize but it doesn’t surprise you.

cw: not many, a brief non-explicit mention of sex, Marc getting anxious about your relationship

wc: 1199

a/n: Happy new year! This is not beta read, my first time writing for the moon boys and also my first time posting and sharing a fic in probably like 5+ years. Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings, and let me know what you think! I tried keeping the reader as inclusive as I could, but please let me know if I slipped up with anything.

—

When you first started seeing the system, they all showed affection in similar ways. Holding hands, chaste kisses, flowers at the start of dates and walking you home at the end of them. They each had their own ways of going about it, but at the start all 3 of them were stereotypical in their affection.

Now, months later, you could easily tell each of the boy’s love languages.

Steven fluttered between quality time and words of affirmation. He was a romantic at heart, so in reality, he would do anything you asked of him, really. But you could tell he was happiest just being near you, telling you how much he loved you, and hearing the words in return.

Date night with Steven would be art galleries, museum tours, site seeing, or just walking around the markets hand in hand. Cafe’s and bookshops for rainy days, which there were plenty of in London, filled weekends with him where you could just sit in each other’s company and read besides one another.

Jake was the master of physical touch. You think it’s because he didn’t have as much time fronting as the other two, and his only physical touch with humans up until the three started getting along was when he took over the body in emergencies like in Cairo. When Jake was fronting, his hands were always on you.

Jake always had his arm on you when in public. Around your shoulder, or on your waist, he didn’t have a preference as long as he had you in his arm in some way. You liked to compare him to a livestock dog. Not like sheepdogs who herded them, but like a pyrenees that would fight a wolf off a lamb.

He was also the most handsy in the bedroom.

Marc took the longest to pinpoint his love language. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last to open up to a relationship with you.

You had met Steven first, dated Steven first, and then met Jake and Marc along the way. The relationship with Jake blossomed easily, but Marc still had walls he had built standing steady, that he wasn’t ready to break down yet. For a while even, you weren’t sure he liked you. After anxieties about it were aired out, Marc reassured you he did like you, he was “just shit at showing it” as he had put it. He hadn’t wanted to get close, mess things up with you and risk everything Steven and Jake had with you. That was the turning point for you and Marc’s relationship.

You thought it was behind you, until you noticed Marc’s odd behavior one day.

“Marc, baby, are you alright?” You asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter as he washed dishes.

“Hm?” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, nodding as he kept his attention mostly on the pan he was scrubbing. “Yea, fine, why’d you ask?”

“Because you’ve been scrubbing that pan for about 10 minutes now. I think it’s clean.” You smiled softly, as his brow scrunched when he realized.

“Fine… yeah. I just… you know I love you?” He finished his sentence more like a question.

“Of course I know. I love you too.” You moved closer to him, putting a hand on his cheek to look him in the eyes. “What brought this about?”

“I don’t… I don’t say it enough. When we met you weren’t even sure I liked you, and now I don’t even say I love you as often as Jake or Steven do. So I just…” Marc lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand to his hair, pushing his curls out of his face as he steps away from you. You give him his space, you know when he needs it. To work out emotions without feeling suffocated or closed in.

“Just thought maybe you weren’t sure again.”

Marc avoids looking directly at your face as you look at his. You understand him, more than you probably know, which scares Marc. Not in a bad way, but scares him in a way he can’t believe there was someone out there who could.

Which is why what you say shouldn’t surprise him, but it does anyway.

“You don’t have to say it in the same way Steven or Jake do for me to know.” You start softly. “You have a different way of showing it, than they do.”

Marc’s eyebrows furrow, even more than the wrinkled brow he usually has.

He can only describe the look on your face that you give him as adoring, as you continue.

“The days that you front, you’re always up before me. Whether you’re an early riser or you never really fell asleep that night - you know exactly how to make my coffee in the morning and I always wake up to a cup made the way I like sitting on the counter waiting for me.

“I also know that it isn’t Jake who had my car’s oil changed, or the tires rotated a couple weeks ago.”

Marc shrugs at that one, mumbles something that you think is “That’s not a big deal.”

As you tell him all this, you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that Marc’s love language was acts of service. Because of course it was. Marc, the giver. Marc, who always felt he needed to prove his worth and make up for sins of his past, by any means necessary. Your Marc, who did so much for you without expecting a ‘thank you’ because that was how he showed he cared.

You kept going with more examples.

“Last week I forgot my umbrella and my lunch in the apartment and you came all the way to my job to drop them off for me.” You wrap your arms around Marc’s waist at this, resting your head against him in a hug.

“Or, when it’s cold, you always turn my heated blanket on the bed while I’m doing my night time routine, so that the bed is nice and warm by the time I climb in. And when -“ You could keep going, listing the things you notice Marc does for you, but he stops you with flushed cheeks.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I do a lot for you.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully as he wraps his arms around you to return the hug. “I like taking care of you.”

“You take care of me because you love me.”

Marc nods, kissing your forehead. “Yeah, I do. I’m just sorry I don’t say it more.”

“I don’t need you to. It’s nice to hear, but I still know it. You show me every day.” You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss, which Marc gratefully returns.

“And I’ll continue to show you every day, until you get tired of me.”

“I’d never get tired of you, baby. You, Jake and Steven are all stuck with me.”

Marc laughs. “Stuck with you? Making it sound like that’s a bad thing. Honey, I think you’re the one ‘stuck’ with the three of us.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[oscquinn]

“I’ve never done something like this before” with Carlos sainz??? Maybe reader is total homebody or like doesn’t party but her bf broke up with her because she was too “boring” so she goes on a trip with some “friends” and she runs into a fresh winning smooth operator and so on tee hee

SMOOOOTTTHHH OPERATOORRR

“I’ve never done something like this before” from this subtle smut list. part of my mini writing event, now closed!

carlos sainz x f!reader, rated t. drinking, suggestive but no smut!

you're not sure how you ended up in a london club. not sure how many drinks you've had, and not sure if you want another or want to go home. but a handsome man is buying for you, his fingers clutching your hip a little possessively like he's laying claim over you. making sure no other man tries to make a move, to take you from him.

you're here because of your stupid boyfriend. or, ex-boyfriend now. a manipulative, lying cheater who wasted six months of your time. your friends had dragged you away from home, pooling their money to book an extra room on their trip to london. and of course, they'd convinced you to go out with them.

your friends were dancing, you'd spent some time with them, but you preferred to sit at the bar, resting your feet and chatting with whoever sat near you. that's how you'd met him.

carlos sainz. you've heard of him, a racing driver from your native spain. but you never followed the sport. and you'd never known how gorgeous he is. long, full lashes surround deep brown eyes, the kind that stare at you with something between warmth and need. his nose and jaw are strong, his face striking enough to remain in your memory for a long time to come.

somewhere between deciding on a drink or an uber, he's kissing you. you let it happen, fingers clutching the soft hair at the nape of his neck. he smells like expensive spanish cologne, the kind your grandfather saved for special occasions. it's nostalgic. it's intoxicating.

the nerves you normally face have melted away in his presence. maybe it's carlos, or maybe it's the liquor that's burned your throat all night. but you know yourself, know your tolerance, and know what you want from him.

"i've never done something like this before," you murmur against his ear, fingers brushing over his muscled thigh. "but. do you want to come back to my hotel room?"

carlos grins at you, "no, no. you come back to mine," he counters. "bigger bed, and better room service."

all you can do is nod along, standing and taking his hand as he guides you toward the door.

© oscquinn, 2025. click here for my inbox.

[vansandhands]

Tips for a Hassle-Free Move

Moving is rarely anyone's favourite activity. Even if it's a change for the best, it's regarded to be one of the most stressful events you might encounter in life. The moving house checklist has a list of things to do when moving house which might seem overwhelming, whether you move frequently or this is your first time. Moving is a time-consuming process, but we've broken it down into 10 easy tips for moving into a new home to make the move easier.

Website: www.vansandhands.com

The most important details to consider when setting the moving date, cleaning and organizing your space, getting quotes and hiring a moving company, contacting your utility supplier, and labeling and packing the boxes are: setting the moving date, cleaning and organizing your space, getting quotes and hiring a moving company, contacting your utility supplier, and labeling and packing the boxes. It is important to reserve the needed day off from work and make plans for the care of young children and pets.

Additionally, getting a written quotation from the moving company is important if the current one has expired. Finally, it is important to contact your utility supplier to tell them you are relocating up to a month in advance. The most important details to consider when relocating are to inform people of your upcoming move, know where all the necessary components are in your new home, clean your new residence, open the boxes roomwise, and purchase essentials for your new house.

It is important to inform everyone on your moving house checklist that you are relocating to prevent unpaid payments, gaps in service, and possibly identity theft. Additionally, it is important to know where all the necessary components are located in your new home, such as the stopcock or fuse box. Finally, cleaning your new residence before settling in and unpacking is important, as scheduling a cleaning team to come in before the removal company does, and opening the boxes roomwise.

These tips will help you move into a new home when you prepare to move the next time. Check out our Moving House Checklist for a hassle-free move.

[internationalremovals23]

10 Tips for a Smooth Moving Experience in London

Moving can be a stressful experience, especially in a bustling city like London. The process can be smooth and hassle-free with the right planning and the help of a reliable moving company. Here are 10 practical tips to ensure your moving day is a success:

1. Plan Ahead

Start organizing your move weeks in advance. Create a checklist of tasks, including hiring a moving company in London, notifying utility providers, and packing your belongings. Early planning reduces last-minute stress and ensures you don’t miss anything important.

2. Choose the Right Moving Company

Research and hire a reputable moving company in London. Look for customer reviews, check their experience with local and international moves, and compare quotes. Reliable moving companies will handle your belongings with care and offer services tailored to your needs.

3. Declutter Before Packing

Moving is the perfect time to get rid of items you no longer need. Donate, sell, or recycle things you don’t use anymore. This reduces the volume of items to move, saving you time and money.

4. Pack Smartly

Use sturdy boxes and label each one clearly with its contents and the room it belongs to. Keep essential items like toiletries, chargers, and a change of clothes in a separate bag for easy access on moving day.

5. Notify Relevant Parties

Inform your utility providers, bank, and other essential services about your change of address. This ensures a seamless transition and prevents disruptions in service.

6. Protect Fragile Items

Wrap delicate items like glassware, artwork, and electronics in bubble wrap or packing paper. Use padding inside boxes to prevent movement and label these boxes as "Fragile" for extra caution during the move.

7. Hire Professional Packers

If packing feels overwhelming, consider hiring professional packing services. Many moving companies in London offer this service, ensuring your belongings are packed securely and efficiently.

8. Consider International Moving Services

If you’re relocating abroad, choose an experienced international moving company. They’ll handle customs documentation, shipping logistics, and ensure your items reach your destination safely.

9. Prepare for Moving Day

Ensure parking permits are arranged for the moving truck and clear pathways for easy access. Communicate with your movers about any special instructions or items requiring extra care.

10. Stay Organized

Keep important documents like moving contracts, inventory lists, and contact details of your moving company handy. Staying organized helps you manage any issues that may arise during the move.

Why Choose South London Removals?

At South London Removals, we understand the challenges of moving in a busy city like London. Whether you’re relocating locally or internationally, our experienced team is here to make the process seamless. From packing services to safe transportation, we offer comprehensive moving solutions tailored to your needs.

Get in touch with us today to learn more about our reliable moving services. Let’s make your move stress-free and successful!

[flemingsfreckles]

Koala

Synopsis: you surprise your girlfriend at her game after not seeing each other for almost 3 months

Warnings: none this is soft and fluffy

WC: 1.2k

A/N: okay this is inspired off the fact that this woman loves jumping into her teammates arms as celebration, so I wanted to write a little blurb about it.

It wasn’t easy sneaking around Jessie. The girl was too smart, she knew you too well. You also hated lying to her, but sometimes you had to. It was less lying, and more withholding information about your plans and your whereabouts.

She didn’t know you were in Montréal, she didn’t even know you were in Canada. But you were, you had managed to take the flight from London to New York, scheduling it for when you knew your girlfriend would be asleep and unsuspecting of your lack of cell service. You had then sent her a casual good morning text, she suspected nothing.

You hadn’t seen Jessie in ten weeks. You had visited her in Portland shortly after her move but only stayed for a few days before you had to return to London for work. Leaving her was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Walking through the airport doors and looking back to see her bawling in the front seat of her car was the most gut wrenching sight. You had almost quit your job at that moment.

But you couldn’t quit your job, that wasn’t realistic. You know you would move in with Jessie eventually, the two of you had already lived together shortly in London, but with her career, the potential of her moving in the future, you weren’t sure where the two of you would end up so you stayed in London at your stable job for now. Except you weren’t in London anymore, you had taken a week off from work to come watch Jessie play two friendlies before getting to spend the rest of the week with her at her childhood home. Jessie didn’t know that of course, she knew she was playing two games and then getting to have a break at home.

It was easier to avoid Jessie on a game day. It was typical that you wouldn’t hear from Jessie until after the game with the exception of maybe a good morning text, she was busy, captains meetings, team meetings, warm ups, practice, pregame, team meals, it took up a lot of her time, and you knew that. It just so happened that while you usually miss her more on game days, having less communication, it was the perfect excuse to avoid texting her.

When you left your hotel that morning you had thrown on your Canada jersey, an old one of Jessie’s, a pair of jeans, a hat, and sunglasses. You planned to stay hidden, undercover, until the game was over, you didn’t want to distract Jessie with the surprise, so it seemed like the best option.

Ashley was the only person at the game who knew you were there. The two of you had met through Jessie and had become quick friends, you had simply sent her a photo of your boarding pass with the text ‘Don’t tell Jess.”. She promised she wouldn’t and expressed her excitement for you.

You started to feel nerves as you made your way to your seat, a bubble of excitement in your stomach. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to sit through 90 minutes with your girlfriend just feet away from you, but you figured it out. You watched the game, mainly your eyes following Jessie around the field, paying less attention to any of the other players. It was weird not seeing her in weeks and then being so close to her without her even knowing.

The game ended Canada up 1-0, you watched as your girlfriend made her way toward Janine and the two of them started to make their lap around, thanking the fans. That’s when Ashley took the chance to come over to you, waving you down and helping you over the railing onto the field.

She gives you a quick hug before putting you behind her. “Just follow me.” She says before walking off in the direction you assumed your girlfriend was. You removed your sunglasses and the hat you put on, not needing a disguise anymore. You followed Ashley as she brought you to the middle of the pitch.

“Stay there.” She said before taking a few steps away from you. She pointed in the direction of Jessie who was gathering her things from the bench. “Jessie!” She shouted.

You watched as your girlfriend picked up her head quickly turning to face where her name had been shouted. She threw her hands up questioning what Ashley wanted, clearly not paying attention to you standing next to her. It made you laugh, your girlfriend was usually so observant, but leave it to her to not notice you standing there. Helping the poor girl, Ashley turned, her arms stuck out in your direction as if she was presenting you to Jessie.

You watched Jessie’s jaw drops, along with everything in her hands, her phone, water bottle, shoes, coat all thrown to the ground. Janine turns at the sudden crash of all her belongings, looking and seeing you. Suddenly Jessie was sprinting at you, full speed, her arms out in your direction. As she got closer you could see the giant grin on her face and suddenly she was lunging at you, jumping and clinging to you. You stumbled back a few steps before regaining your balance. Jessie grabbed you tightly, her legs wrapping around your midsection as her arms looped around your neck, she held herself up for a moment before your arms wrapped around supporting her back and butt.

The two of you just stayed there for a moment, taking in the feeling of being back in each other's arms, her tight hold on you and the way you squeezed her impossibly closer into your chest. She had her face tucked into your neck, your chin rested on her shoulder.

“You’ve got yourself a koala.” Vanessa says from behind you, referring to how Jessie is clinging to you. “Good to see you by the way.” She says before patting your back and walking away.

“Oh my god.” You heard Jessie murmur into your neck. She had been silent since jumping onto you. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just in town, figured I’d say hi.” You jokingly say back to her. She releases the hold her legs have around your waist and puts them back on the ground, leaving her arms around your neck, pulling you slightly over as she stands looking up at you.

“You’re here.” She’s got tears in her eyes as she blinks up at you.

“I’m here.” You nod, knowing your eyes looked similar to hers, overwhelmed with the emotions that were rushing through your body. Feeling Jessie’s body under your hands, hearing her voice, the smell of her sweaty kit, it all held so much meaning behind it, so much worth to you, you loved this woman more than anything.

You bend down, placing a quick kiss to Jessie’s cheek, knowing she wasn’t a big fan of PDA you withhold your desire to have your lips on hers. Hearing an ‘awwww’ from the side you turn to see a handful of Jessie’s teammates looking at the two of you.

“Shut up.” Jessie says as she tucks her head into your side, hiding the obvious blush she had.

“Oh please Jess, you two are cute.” Ashley says. The two of you pull apart and you tell Jessie you’ll wait for her at her car before heading out so she can finish her postgame routine. You can’t help but smile to yourself when you hear Vanessa teasing Jessie as you walk away.

“You’re just like a little koala.”

She probably wasn’t going to live that nickname down anytime soon and you knew you’d be to blame but you really didn’t care, letting her jump into your arms was the best feeling on earth.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

It's Golden

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Your week in London with Dieter comes to an end. A new year brings a revelation. Warnings: pov switching, warren's a pos, pining, fluff, comfort, dieter bravo is good at being romantic, unprotected p in v sex, oral (f&m receiving), balcony sex, shower sex, london eye sex (please throw out all reality about the london eye), waking up to oral sex, ordering room service with dieter between your legs, ass slapping, risque photos, psychedelic mushrooms, marijuana, alcohol, special guest star paddington bear, long distance relationship airport flashbacks for your author, i am sorry about the ending Words: 8,500

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you to everyone who reads this... Dee & Sweets started as a singular fic... and then the character's planted in my head and heart and refused to leave. This chapter's a big one. I hope you enjoy. ✨💞 Thank you to @devineconjuring and @schnarfer for their Google Docs perusing.

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist ✨✨✨

December 29

Dieter wakes up, reaching his arm out for your body, but finds only cool sheets. He blinks away the remnants of sleep turning over to find your side of the bed empty.

With a sigh, he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand. As he unlocks it, a flurry of notifications pop up. At the top, a message from Alex. An outline, detailed and thorough, listing everything he needs to do now that the photos have been taken care of. There’s a lot there… but he’d do triple the work if it meant it’d keep you safe.

He can hear the faint sounds of a random cast of British people on TV. He gets out of bed excited to tell you the good news.

He slides his arms in his robe before tying it loosely as he pads out of the bedroom. The living room is empty, the TV playing Paddington softly to itself. Of course you’d choose Paddington. He hears a slight clattering down the hallway as he gets his first smell of coffee.

He hears you softly humming to yourself as he approaches the kitchen. He pauses at the doorway when he sees you. 

You’re standing at the stove, flipping pancakes while sipping a mug full of coffee. You’re wearing the same bright, striped robe he gave you a couple of years ago. He loves watching you exist, doing something as mundane as flipping pancakes. It almost feels like he’s been transported back to your home, standing in your kitchen.

"You brought my robe?”

You startle slightly when he speaks.

“Morning," you turn, lifting your mug up and smiling in greeting. “I did.”

He strides over. Placing his hand on your shoulder to turn you. His eyebrows rise at the sight in front of him. The robe is tied loosely, your chest almost fully exposed to him, his mouth already begins to water. “Damn, it looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile before turning back to flip another pancake.

He steps closer, his chest pressing against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Pancakes, huh?”

“I know they’re one of your favorites and I-I wanted to thank you for what you did last night.”

“It was nothing. Alex also let me know he’s called off the proverbial hounds.”

"Really? How did you manage that?"

"I have my ways. Let's just say I'll be doing a lot more press in the coming months."

You turn in his arms, eyes wide with surprise. “You didn’t have to do that… honestly.”

"Hey, it's worth it. You're worth it.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out appreciatively. 

He presses his lips against you, his hands sliding down to your waist, pushing you against the countertop. The spatula clatters to the floor when you wrap your arms around his neck.

The two of you get lost in the kiss, your lips, tongues, hands, and moans trying to tell each other all the words and feelings left unsaid… until you smell burnt pancakes.

“Shit!” you exclaim, pushing him away before moving the pan off the stove.

You shake your head with a smile as you scrape the charred remains of the pancake into the trash. “Get out of here before we have to order room service.”

He constantly feels like he’s dreaming whenever he’s around you, especially right now. You’re sitting cross legged on the couch happily eating a piece of marmalade topped toast while watching Paddington. He’s already devoured three pancakes. You even remembered exactly how he likes them: covered in honey, hot sauce, and bacon.

It’s like you’ve always been here in London with him, slotted into his life. You’ve taken this temporary hotel suite and made it into a home.

You’ve always been the one for him, and when you look over, mouth full of toast, and ask “Paddington 2 next?” He wants to do this with you forever.

—-

"If you're kind and polite, the world will be right."

Dieter chuckles a low, happy sound when he sees you’re wiping tears from your eyes as the credits of Paddington 2 begin to roll.

“What do you want to do today now that you’re all cried out from Paddington?” he teases.

You grab a throw pillow, bonking it against his head. “Shut up.”

He laughs, catching the pillow and tossing it aside. “Did you want to go see Paddington at Paddington Station? We’ll get some marmalade sandwiches, maybe see if we can spot a small Peruvian bear,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, so my not so subtle hints worked, right?”

He shakes his head, offering you his hand as he rises. “Come on Sweets, get your rain boots out.”

“They’re called wellies here!”

—-

How can you take such a menial task and make it so sexy? 

You’re squeezing the remnants of your travel size shampoo out of the bottle, frowning as nothing spurts out. He doesn’t know why he can feel the rush of blood to his dick. Oh yeah, it’s because you’re all wet and naked in front of him, your breasts jiggling as you shake the bottle.

He finds himself sudsing up his cock with much more vigor than normal. His length not so subtly growing hard against his palms. You’re massaging shampoo into your scalp when you look over at him, realizing what he’s doing.

You reach over with a smile, wrapping your hand around his, guiding it up and down his shaft. His deep, long groan echoes off the marble when you brush your thumb against his sensitive tip.

His chest meets your back when you turn, his hands move to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he rubs his cock against your slippery, wet ass.

Bracing your hands against the tiled wall, you bend over slightly. He runs his hand down your back and over the curve of your ass. Water cascades down your skin, he can’t resist himself, you look so fucking good, he leaves a light slap against your ass.

“Oh!” you shout followed by a long moan and a tempting giggle. His legs turn to jelly when you breathe out a low “again.”

He complies, this time teasing you with a couple false starts before SMACK, he leaves an open palmed sting against your skin.

You moan again and spread your legs wide for him, arching your back and presenting your pussy to him.

You glance over your shoulder. “Fuck me Dieter, give me your cock.”

You’ve never talked dirty to him, he’s thought about how you’d sound for years… so much so, he would dread it if he heard you utter the word fuck, because in his fantasies, you were constantly telling him to fuck you.

He grips your slippery hips as he lines himself up to your eager pussy that’s waiting for him. Lazily, your hips sway back and forth, brushing the tip of his cock against your cunt.

You glance at him again, a look of determination on your beautiful face. “I said, fuck me Dee,” you command.

That’s enough for him, he enters you quick and hard, your elbows and knees bending at the impact. His cock bottoming out in your wet, tight cunt as you scream his name.

He drives into you hard and fast, his hands perched against your shoulders, hips snapping against your ass.

“Yessss,” you hiss.

He knew you’d be the best he’s ever had, but he never knew just how good you’d feel every time, how sweet your moans would sound reverberating off the tile, how mesmerized he’d be by the way the water splashes as he fucks into you.

His suite is one of the largest and highest floored at this super luxury hotel, but he’s pretty sure that even the lobby can hear the noises you’re making right now.

He watches your orgasm spread through your body. Your hands trying to grip the wall, your head thrown back, mouth open wide, spitting water out as you coo and gasp for him. You’re absolutely gripping his cock, the pulses of it and your vibrating body sending him over the edge.

“Fuuuuuck,” he swears, pulling his cock out and shooting his load all over your back and ass, pumping himself as the water washes away his cum. You’re trembling, barely able to keep yourself up. He grabs you, kissing your soaked skin and whispering how good you took his cock as you smile up at him with a sweet, satisfied smile. Okay, now he’s sure he is dreaming.

—-

You’ve been to London a few times with Warren, but he always found the idea of going somewhere to see a statue of a “cartoon” ridiculous. You always knew Dieter would understand your joy with zero judgment.

You weave around the travelers and tourists, until you see him. The Paddington Bear. You pull Dieter towards the bronze statue, “Oh my god! It’s him!”

You can’t contain your excitement, a wide grin spreads across your face as you sit down on the bronze suitcase and mimic Paddington’s seated position.

Dieter takes a few photos of you with your beloved bear, his shoulders slightly shaking as he chuckles to himself.

“Come here!” you insist, reaching your hand out to him.

He leans down, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both squeeze in next to Paddington. He holds up his phone, angling it to get all three of you in the shot. You turn just as he takes the first picture, planting a kiss on his cheek.

You don’t care if someone in the crowd might see you, Dieter’s gone above and beyond to prove that he’ll protect you, more than anybody ever has.

Later that night, you can’t stop staring at the photos of you and Dieter with Paddington, it’s hard to deny that you look like two people in love.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 30

Dieter’s refused to tell you where you’re headed since you left the hotel. Your mind races with ideas until… the car pulls up to the entrance of the London Eye.

“Surprise Sweets,” he says, opening the door.

“Oh my god. We’re going on the Eye?” you ask, sliding across the leather and getting out of the warmth of the car. Your head tilted to take in the large ferris wheel.

He nods. “Not just that. Come on.”

An attendant greets Dieter by name and ushers you two past the waiting crowd. There’s a twinge of guilt as you bypass the line, you really have to get used to the life of a celebrity.

The attendant leads you to a private capsule, holding the door open as you step inside. The door seals, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in the pod.

A bottle of champagne sits on ice with two flutes, a large fuzzy blanket topped with pillows is spread across the floor, along with an assortment of flickering fake candles. But what really catches your eyes is the fancy tray filled with slices of cheddar cheese and crackers. Tears spring in your eyes, quickly falling when you close them in laughter. “Oh my god, you got me cheese and crackers. My favorite!”

“Of course I did,” he responds a wide smile matching yours.

The capsule begins its slow ascent. You turn to Dieter, your eyes shining with happiness. "This is incredible.”

“We have it for the rest of the night. You deserve it. All of it.”

He settles on the blanket and pops the champagne pouring two glasses. You join, snuggling close to him as he drapes an arm around you.

“Cheers,” he says, clinking his glass against yours.

“Cheers,” you smile as you watch Dieter reach for the tray and build you a cheese and cracker sandwich. He smiles as he holds it up to your lips with a lopsided grin. You feel like you’re in a fantasy, like one of those stories Dieter’s fans write about him when you take a bite and savor the buttery cracker and smooth, sharp cheddar. 

“Big Ben looks so cool up here,” you exclaim, as your pod ascends higher.

“It’s about to look cooler baby,” Dieter whispers against your ear as he pulls out a baggie full of dried mushrooms.

“Oh my god, I haven’t done shrooms since your birthday party a few years ago.”

“Mm,” he hums as he pulls out a small piece for you and puts it on a cheese topped cracker. “Here, drink some champagne to chase it, they’re not that great tasting.”

You do as he says, grimacing at the musty taste before gulping down a whole glass of champagne, welcoming the tingly bubbles. “This is ridiculous.”

Dieter takes a handful of shrooms and stuffs them into his mouth, happily chewing before winking at you. “You love it,” he says, pulling you close and wrapping the blanket tighter around you.

You really do.

—-

The pod sits atop the eye. You’re leaning forward looking out amongst the sparkling lights of London. “I feel like Peter Pan,” you muse, your warm breath hitting against the chilly glass.

He leans in close. “They say if you kiss someone at the top of the London Eye, you'll be together forever."

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” he hums, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Want to test that?”

You nod before you seal your mouth over his and kiss him. The pod gently descends as you both explore each other’s mouths, soft groans and whimpers, hands exploring each other’s body. 

You pull away, sighing when you see the station come into view.  “Oh my god. We’re already going down. It’s almost over.”

“No, it’s not baby,” he responds, kissing his way to your ear. “You forget, I have connections, we have this pod all night.”

“Ooooh, connections,” you mock.

He chuckles, shaking his head before he lifts you to sit on his lap, your back settling against his warm chest. He begins to tickle the spots on your sides, you’re kicking and laughing, as you squirm.

"Stop, stop!" you gasp, but he doesn't listen.

"Make me," he teases.

You twist in his lap, facing him before capturing his lips. His hands still immediately, moving to grip your waist instead. You smile against his mouth before pulling away beaming with a bright grin.

“Wow,” you exhale, your eyes wide. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy.”

“No Sweets, those are the shrooms.”

“No Dee, well, wait—yeah, but also you’ve made me so happy this week.”

His heart thuds against his chest, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do since that first night you called him heartbroken and alone in your home. He wanted to make you smile, make you laugh, help you heal.

“I’m glad baby, so glad.”

He can also feel the mushrooms starting to take effect, making everything feel dreamy and surreal. He lets himself get lost in it, blinking slowly as the lights of London blur and swirl outside the pod, but you—his Golden Girl—stays in focus. 

Your skin is glittering in the soft light, your hair shimmering. He reaches out to touch a strand, amazed at how silky it feels. You mimic him, reaching out to comb your fingers through the waves of his hair. 

“Your hair is so soft,” you admire dreamily. “Like a cloud.”

He chuckles, his eyes still closed, patterns whirling around his eyelids. “A cloud, huh?”

You giggle a light, airy sound. “Everything feels so light and… floaty."

He opens his eyes to see you staring at him. His sense of touch heightened as he slides his hand under your shirt, moving it higher to cup your breast over your bra, his cock hardening as you begin to grind against his lap. Suddenly, you pull away, cutting through the lust and psychedelic riddled haze. “Aren’t there cameras?”

He smiles reassuringly. “Not if you’re famous enough,” he says. “Remember baby, connections. But we still gotta be careful.”

Your eyes widen as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. It takes you zero time for you to shift in his lap, your fingers untying the drawstrings of his pants. 

He pushes your skirt up, bunching it around your waist when he groans a low, appreciative noise as his fingers brush against your pussy, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 

“Dee,” you sigh, rocking against his hand.

“I know, I know.”

He lifts you, hovering your soaked cunt over his hard cock. You stare, reaching down to pull your panties to the side, your dilated pupils turning into hypnotic spirals as you sink down onto his length, both of you groaning in unison. The feeling is indescribable - you wrap around him like your pussy was made for him, your body fusing with his.

You begin to move, rocking your hips slowly at first, his hands grip your skin, guiding you, moving you in a steady rhythm.

“You’re perfect,” he pants, unable to look away from your eyes. He can see a future with you in them. Happiness, love, acceptance.

The world outside the pod seems to fade away, it’s just him and you. Your pussy perfectly moving on top of him, your hands planted on his chest as you gently bounce.

Gravity disappears, clouds surround your bodies, the dark night sky twinkles in the distance, stars sparking and bursting. You are the center of his universe, your skin even more golden and radiant. Shining, glowing, glimmering all for him.

You’re panting, swirling your hips around his base as you grind. He rocks his hips up, matching your dripping cunt as he begins to pound into you.

He leans back on his palms, watching as you take him, your hips rolling, your tight pussy squeezing him as you chase your release.

“Fuuuuuck,” you cry, throwing your head back, lost in your pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he grunts, feeling the familiar pulse of your pussy.

With a ringing cry, your orgasm beams through you. You’re lit from within, your skin shining metallic gold as you clench around his cock, squeezing him impossibly hard, your velvet fluttering pulling him closer into your orbit.

He is in awe of you, in love with you, and gasping your name as he cums. You’re shivering and smiling as he fills you, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you.

You giggle and nuzzle into his neck. “That was…”

“Fucking amazing,” he finishes, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

He holds you, feeling happier than he’s ever felt. He has to tell you he loves you, but sober. Damn the shrooms.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 31

The world outside the hotel suite is abuzz as London prepares to celebrate. Dieter doesn’t remember most New Year's midnight countdowns if he’s telling the truth.

Though he does remember one quite vividly. You and Warren hosted a NYE party shortly after you bought your house. You were the perfect host, floating around like June Cleaver, refilling drinks, laughing, and galavanting with friends. You were so happy, so hopeful. And when midnight came and Warren wrapped you in his arms and gave you a kiss, well, Dieter couldn’t look away. He’s a masochist like that sometimes.

Sure, he chastely kissed his date, before quickly pulling away just so he could watch the happy newlyweds cocooned in love’s warmth at midnight. It was so long ago, and now—now you’re here with him, cocooned under a blanket and nestled up next to him on the balcony. He can hardly believe his luck. 

“Wow, it’s almost midnight,” you muse. “What a year, huh?”

He turns to you, the lights of the city reflect in your eyes “You know, I’m proud of you,” he starts. “After everything… you amaze me.”

He watches you swallow past the lump in your throat as you gently nod. 

“And not just this year, through everything you’re still just as radiant and… golden.”

"Dee," you whisper. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands. "I think you’re the reason. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

The distant sounds of revelers in the streets below begin counting down the final seconds of the year.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Dieter pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

His heart is racing, years of longing and unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface.

"Four! Three! Two!"

“I love you,” he breathes out, just as the crowd below shouts “One!”

Fireworks explode in the sky, but he barely notices as you pull away, your eyes gazing into his, a smile lighting your face. “I love you too.”

“Yeah?”

You kiss him. “Yeah.”

“Amazing.”

He pulls you into his lap as you both watch the fireworks from the privacy of his balcony.

You light up a joint, his heart beats against his chest as he watches the orange glow of the lighter and the bright flashes of fireworks shine across your skin. “Okay, am I dreaming?”

You chuckle. “No, we’re here… and I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, I thought Christmas was good. New Years is way better.”

“Mm,” you hum. “Let’s make it better.”

You turn in his hold, straddling him. He’s already hard for you when you give him a tempting smile and open his robe.

“Dee?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to feel you inside me when you tell me you love me.”

He shivers at your words. His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your robe open.

"God, you're perfect," he breathes.

You rise up on your knees, positioning yourself over him before you slowly sink down onto him.

His whole body tenses before relaxing as your tight pussy surrounds him.

The fireworks continue to explode in the sky, the lights flashing across your skin as you begin to move. Your eyes, filled with awe and love, are locked on him.

He’s sure he’s uttered the words I love you to someone while fucking them before. Hell, he’s pretty sure under the drug and drink haze with Anika, he told her it a few times… but he knows he never truly felt it like this. But with you, now here, on top of him, your skin glowing against the backdrop of stars in the sky and random bursts of fireworks, he knows now this is making love.

"I love you," he whispers, gazing into your eyes. "God, I love you so much."

"I love you too.”

Your hips roll against his. Your mouth finds his. You’re moaning into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair.

You make love slowly, tenderly. There's no rush, no urgency - just the two of you connecting. Your lips never leaving the others.

He worships you, his Golden Girl. 

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

January 1

Dieter slowly stirs from sleep, his mind hazy, either from the leftover champagne and weed in his system or dreams. There’s something warm and tingly between his legs, a wet slurping noise alerts him and he blinks his eyes open. He looks down to see your head bobbing gently under the covers.

Your tongue swirls around the tip of his hardening cock before you take him deeper into your mouth as you massage his balls.

“Holy fuck sweets,” he gasps, throwing the blankets off his body. He almost cums when you’re revealed, your wide eyes looking up at him, his cock stuffed into your mouth. 

“Happy New Year,” you purr before licking a trail down the thick vein along his cock. His head falls back against the pillow, a low groan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He feels the vibration of your sweet giggle against his cock before you murmur “I love you too” against him.

“Come here baby, come here,” he says, reaching and pulling you up his body. He kisses you, his tongue licking at yours.

He can feel the heat of you as you straddle him, his cock aches to feel the slick he knows you’re leaking out for him.

His hand snakes down to grip himself and rub against your wet cunt, you moan against his mouth as he teases you, sliding his cock through your slick folds. You’re whimpering against him, rocking your hips to try to take him inside.

He sucks on your tongue, just as he notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You both moan before you both stay still, relishing in the feel of each other.

He’ll never tire of how it feels to have you this way.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you begin to move, rolling your hips in a slow rhythm before you sit up. He looks down, watching his cock disappear into you as you lift yourself up and sink back down on him. You stare at him as you reach for his hand, bringing a finger to your mouth and sucking it.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, sitting up and pushing his broad chest against yours, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you deeply, as you melt into the heat of his body.

He’s buried deep inside you, neither of you moving. He stays like that, savoring the feel of his cock enveloped in the heat of you, pulsing within your tight, wet pussy.

He runs his hands across the plains of your back, tracing the curve of your spine as his tongue tangles with yours.

You card your fingers through his messy hair, tugging gently.

He holds you tight as he begins moving inside you, groaning against your mouth, he’s so drunk off your pussy he feels like the room around him is swirling, his mouth drooling. He’ll never get enough of touching you, feeling every dip and curve of the body he’s craved for years.

You break the kiss, throwing your head back after he thrusts deep into you. He takes the opportunity to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nipping.

“God damn baby,” he whispers against your collarbone. He can feel you getting close, you’re clenching him, your ragged breaths panting into the air.

He licks his way up to your neck, his tongue tracing and swirling around the rapid pulse there. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as you grind against him. You’re so close, you’re trembling in his arms, your sweet pussy fluttering with need.

He grips your hips, guiding you to ride him faster, to take him for everything he has.

“Oh god, Dee,” you gasp.

“I love you,” he rasps.

“I love you too,” you whimper.

He almost cums right there, but he makes himself hold back and not give in, determined to make you fall apart first.

“Fuuuuck,” he drawls. “Let me feel your pussy cum for me baby,”

That’s your undoing, he feels you tighten around him, your walls squeezing him as you orgasm.

“Oh god,” you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He holds you tight, feeling every quiver and pulse of your body as you tense all over and release.

He doesn’t let up his pace, thrusting into your soaked cunt, letting your ride out your high before you collapse against him, your lips pressed against his shoulder. 

“I love you,” you whisper, lifting your head, your eyes hazy and soft, with a dreamy smile on your lips. 

That does it for him. He grips you tightly, pulling you down onto him as he thrusts up hard, his cock pumping inside you. “Oh fuck, I love you,” he groans, filling you with his cum.

Dieter falls back onto the soft mattress, carrying you with him. He’s still inside you, relishing in the warmth. He can feel the beat of your heart against his own.

You lift your head, he reaches up, gently cupping your face, rubbing his thumb across your skin. “You’re so beautiful. My golden girl.”

—-

Peace. That’s the overwhelming emotion you feel as Dieter’s chest is pressed firm against your back as the two of you watch Simpsons reruns in the giant hotel bed. The setting sun is shining in through the windows, though you have no idea what time it is. All sense of it lost by being wrapped in Dieter’s arms all day.

The room service cart that sits just outside the bedroom door is piled high with dirty dishes. Today has been perfect, indulging in only each other.

Your hands lightly pet the dark hair of his forearms wrapped tightly around you, and when you lightly graze your nails across his skin he lets out a slight groan into your ear. The sound goes straight to your core.

You stretch languidly, loosening your muscles soar from the hours spent in bed kissing, fucking, and laughing. You push your ass against Dieter firmer, wiggling it slightly.

“Baby,” he lowly whispers. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Burn me baby,” you giggle.

He flips you over, and climbs over you. “That was so fucking cheesy,” he says against your lips before kissing them. “I love it.”

He trails kisses down your neck, peppering them across your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts. His wide brown eyes staring into yours as his tongue darts out to swirl around your nipple before he takes it into his mouth.

He continues his journey downward, his plush lips ghosting over your ribs, your stomach, your hip bone. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to lift his head to look at you. His eyes meet yours, questioning.

"No, really," you breathe. "Burn me. Make me feel you."

His eyes widen slightly before he nods.

He knows what you mean, tomorrow you leave. Today, time doesn’t exist. Today is only you and him, in this bedroom luxuriating in only each other. But tomorrow, you get on a plane, going home to only silence and yourself.

He grasps your thighs, spreading them wide, and stares down at you, his hand gripping his cock as he pumps himself until he’s standing tall and proud for you. He lifts your legs over his broad shoulders and slaps his cock against your cunt before he buries himself to the hilt in you.

You cry out high and needy, as he grunts low and satisfied. He waits for a breath, stretching you, letting you adjust before he pulls back and slams into you again. He makes it burn, his hips snapping against yours.

You can’t stop staring at how beautiful he is as he pounds into you, his face set in concentration, jaw clenched tight and nostrils flaring.

Your hands roam over your slick, sweaty skin, your nails raking across your breasts, pulling and pinching as he fucks you.

"Fuck, you always feel so fuckin’-ahh-good,” he groans as he pulls out and then thrusts back in.

He leans heavily against you, your knees meeting your chest as he folds you in half, the weight of him crushing you deliciously.

“Harder,” you plead.

He growls low in his throat, burying his face in your neck. Rough, deep thrusts pound against your cunt.

The flames in your core grow warmer, spreading across your body, but just as you feel the familiar flames lick across your skin, Dieter pulls out of you. You whimper at the loss, but before you can even say anything, he rolls you onto your side and lays down behind you. His slick chest meeting your slick back.

His cock nudges between your thighs. "Lift your leg for me, baby.”

You muster the strength and comply, draping your leg over his hip. He reaches down, guiding himself back into your wet cunt.

His arm snakes under you, wrapping around your chest to cup your breast. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he begins to move. Slow, deep thrusts that have you gasping and arching back against him.

"That's it," he breathes, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

The angle reignites the flames as they spread across your body. You turn your head, seeking his mouth with yours. He meets you, his lips firm as you gasp into his mouth.

He holds you tight, grinding against you before thrusting deep. 

His hand slides down from your hip, dipping between your legs. His thick finger rubs your clit, making you gasp and cry. You’re writhing in Dieter’s hold, so close to your release, pulse beating, fire roaring. Your tongues and moans tangle as your orgasm consumes you. Your hands fist in the sheets, tears prick at your eyes as you let the blaze overtake you.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, against your lips. “You’re squeezing me so tight baby.”

“Fuck me," you muster out, leaning forward and pressing his cock deeper inside.

Your cunt is still quivering around him as he slides his cock out and back in. He grips your hips, lifting a leg up on the bed to gain better leverage. Each stroke sends an aftershock through your body.

“I love this pussy,” he pants as he fucks into you harder and faster, chasing his release.

You whimper in response, overwhelmed by him as his movements become frenzied, his hips snapping against you with desperate urgency. He feels so tense behind you, the sound of his wet body slapping against your wet body sounds so depraved and so perfect.

"Oh god, baby," he moans. "I'm gonna cum. Fuck, you feel so good."

“Please,” you whimper, reaching back to wrap a hand into his hair and pull tight.

He lets out a loud, long groan of your name when he cums. His sharp nose pressed against your neck, his lips against your shoulder, tasting the salty sweetness of your skin.

The flames still sit within you, lit by Dieter’s love and the feel of his cock softly throbbing inside you.

—-

He can’t sleep, and you can’t either. The end hour is rapidly approaching. He spends the night watching you exist next to him. The way your face looks in the low light of the TV, the sound of your laughter when you giggle at one of Homer’s antics, the feel of your body against his. Fuck, he’s going to miss you so much.

Twenty more days, twenty more days. You can do this.

For years, he’s felt like a fuck up, just some random guy with a cool name who stumbled into being famous. Sure, he’s a good actor… he supposes. He's been called a lot of things over the years - heartthrob, bad boy, party animal, has-been. But with you, he was always just Dee… and now he knows he’s so much more to you.

Since that day you called him, heartbroken and alone, because Warren wasted the most precious thing… everything has shifted. The constant restlessness that used to plague him has settled. The nagging emptiness that drove him to seek oblivion in willing partners, drugs and alcohol has been filled.

You’re all he’s ever wanted, and now he has you… at least until you catch your flight in fifteen hours.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

January 2

You dream of Dieter, a familiar dream you’ve had for years before. The sight of his fluffy hair between your legs, the feel of his tongue against your pussy. But this time it feels different, it feels… real.

Your core is wet with need, a heavy weight settled between your legs. A long moan escapes your lips when you feel a thick tongue against your cunt.

Your eyes flutter open, blinking the sleep away from them. When you look down, you’re greeted by the most beautiful sight - Dieter’s mess of waves nestled between your thighs.

You must still be dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time your subconscious has conjured up this scenario. Usually you just roll over and try to go back to bed or get up and take a shower, but this time the wet slide of Dieter’s tongue tells you this is real.

“Dee,” you breathe out, reaching down to hold his hands as they grip your thighs.

He groans against your pussy, slightly lifting his head to leave a kiss against your thigh.

“Good morning Sweets,” he smiles before diving back in and leaving a slow circle traced against your clit.

You’re soaked for him, your hips bucking as one of your fantasies becomes your reality.

He seals his mouth over your clit, sucking it sweetly between his lips. A high pitched-moan escapes you as he licks his way down to your entrance, diving his tongue in, lapping up your slick.

He gets you nice and wet, before he slides his two thick fingers in, slowly pumping inside you, twisting them deliciously around your entrance. Your head thuds back on the pillow, a high pitched keen of his name echoing in the room.

He licks you right to the edge of your early morning orgasm, thighs trembling, chest heaving, your hands grabbing at the soft tendrils of his hair. He angles his fingers just right, causing your body to tighten and slacken as a shockwave of bliss flows through you. You’re quivering for him as you gasp for air, Dieter’s tongue between your legs awakening you in the best possible way.

“That’s it baby,” he encourages, his warm breath against your heated skin.

Dieter doesn’t stop, he eases you through your orgasm before he builds you up all over again, this time pushing a third finger into your tight channel. He watches you under hooded eyes as he licks and sucks against your clit, thrusting his thick fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Your heart is pounding against your chest as you stare wide eyed at him happily devouring you.

You’re writhing on the sheets, your hands fisting the soft fabric as he hums against you, the vibrations bringing your second orgasm crashing into you quick and intense. He plants a hand on your stomach, sealing you down to the bed, his tongue and fingers overwhelming you as warmth spreads through your limbs.

"Dee, oh god," you pant as you catch your breath, his plush lips leaving wet kisses along your inner thighs, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin.

Your heart rate begins to slow, your limbs stretching out and relaxing… just as Dieter dives back in, his tongue parting your folds.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

He pulls away, a wicked grin lifting his beautiful mouth. “Grab the phone. Order us some breakfast.”

Your hand fumbles for the hotel phone on the nightstand, nearly knocking it over when he rapidly dashes his tongue against your swollen clit. You manage to press the button for room service, trying to keep your voice steady as Dieter eats your pussy.

“G-good morning,” you stammer. “I’d like to order some breakfast-nyugh-please.”

Dieter’s tongue circles your clit, making you bite back a moan.

"Two omelettes please," you continue, your voice slightly strained. "One with mushrooms and cheese, the other with - oh!"

Dieter chooses that moment to suck hard on your clit, nearly making you drop the phone.

"The other with ham and peppers," you finish quickly.

“Mimosas,” Dieter says against your pussy, refusing to pull away before he licks a firm, slow lick against your clit.

"And… two… mimosas pleeease,” you add when his tongue swirls around your clit. Your free hand gripping Dieter’s hair.

You barely manage to confirm the order and hang up before Dieter’s crawling up your body. 

“How long?” he asks, nuzzling his sharp nose into your neck.

“They said about fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect,” he grits as he sheathes himself inside you.

—-

The moment you’ve been dreading arrives. Packing your suitcase. Dieter sits on the bed, attempting to fold a pile of clothes for you.

He lets out a sad sigh every time he places a terribly folded garment next to him.

He fumbles with the soft fabric of one of your sweaters, his rings clattering against one another as he creates more wrinkles.

"Here, let me show you," you say gently, taking the sweater from him. You demonstrate how to fold it neatly. Dieter watches intently, his eyes following your hands.

"Like this?" he asks, picking up another sweater and mimicking your technique.

You laugh at this terrible attempt.

“No,” you say, taking the sweater from him and kissing his cheek. "How about you just watch me?”

“Oh thank god, I fuckin’ hate folding.”

“I can tell.”

You continue packing in comfortable silence, each item placed in your suitcase makes your heart sink lower.

As you carefully place the charm bracelet Dieter gave you in your jewelry case, he clears his throat.

"So, um, what are your plans when you get back?" he asks.

You pause, your hand lingering on the charm bracelet, your finger tracing the shape of it. .

"I'm not sure," you admit softly. “I think I want to look into maybe getting a job at a flower shop. I was thinking, now that I’ll no longer have, uh, Warren’s help. I need to figure something out.”

There’s a bit of shame to your voice. You gave Warren the prime years of your life, and you allowed him to take them for his gain.

“That’s good baby, you have such a talent. What about your own shop?”

You bark out a loud laugh. “I don’t even know how I’m going to afford my fucking house, Dee. You’re already doing more than I could ever ask for, helping me with the lawyer.”

His eyes round in guilt and you instantly feel foolish, you both already have enough to deal with today, as the trip to Heathrow looms over the hotel suite.

You shut your jewelry box, placing it in your suitcase before walking over to him and sitting in his lap. “Don’t worry Dee, I’ll figure it out.”

“With my help.”

“With some of your help.”

His arms wrap around you tighter and you want to ask him about his plans, about what happens next for the two of you, but you're afraid to burst this bubble you've been living in.

"Back to filming tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "It'll be… so different without you here."

“God, I’m going to mi—”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “I know,” he whispers. “Me too.”

You cling to him, breathing in his scent—weed, coffee, and eucalyptus—trying to memorize the feel of his arms around you.

“Twenty days,” he whispers.

—-

Heathrow comes into view and he wills the car to miss the turn to departures. It doesn’t work. Soft sniffles and little gasps escape your mouth, he knows tears are already in your eyes, as hard as you try to hide them behind your sunglasses.

The car pulls up to the curb. No. It can’t be the end, but when the driver opens the door and the sharp, bitter cold breeze of the night hits him, his heart sinks as he realizes this is it.

He slides across the leather, feeling each reluctant movement of his body as he gets out.

He grabs your hand to help you out, his jaw drops when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks.

He pulls you in for a hug. “You can always stay,” he whispers in your ear.

“I know, but I-I can’t. I need to… figure things out back home,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest. “Continue getting my life in order.”

He nods, understanding but hating it all the same. He knows you now have your freedom, regained your independence and he never wants to be the one to hold you back.

“Twenty days,” you remind him softly.

“And then I’ll be back in LA and I’ll be there to help you figure it all out. Together.”

“Together,” you nod, managing a small smile.

He leans in, kissing you tenderly as you wrap your arms around him, clinging to him, knowing it’s the last time for nearly three weeks.

"I love you," he whispers. "So fucking much."

"I love you too."

He wraps his brown fuzzy coat tighter around you and leaves a soft kiss against your forehead before you pull away with great reluctance.

He watches you walk away from him, the chill of London rasps against his skin, while the emptiness of his heart makes him ache all over. He wouldn’t trade this pain for anything in the world.

—-

When Dieter first booked your ticket, you scoffed at the idea of first class, relenting over and over that you didn’t need any special care… but now as you’re settled in your own small pod with a couple walls that give you a sense of privacy, you’re very thankful for his generosity. Your eyes are swollen and red, your head is pounding, you feel your heart breaking with each minute that passes. So this is what it feels like to really be in love.

The flight attendant comes by, offering you a glass of champagne. You accept it gratefully, hoping it might help dull the ache in your chest.

You can’t help yourself when you pull your phone out, scrolling through the photos from your time in London.

Dieter and you grinning widely next to Paddington Bear. The two of you bundled up on the London Eye, the lights of the city twinkling behind you. Dieter’s dopey smile in the Harrod’s dressing room holding up the ripped pair of panties. A selfie in bed, your hair messy, faces glowing in a post-sex haze, his hand resting on your breast. 

You're smiling through your tears as you swipe through the photos, reliving each moment. The last one makes your heart ache - a selfie Dieter took of you sleeping, his arm wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin. You look so peaceful, so content. For years, you lied to yourself that you had that feeling of love, warmth, and protection. You feel like the ache in your chest is going to swallow you whole as you realize just how much you already miss him.

Dieter just gave you the most magical ten days of your life.

—-

He avoids making his way back up to the hotel room. He sits in the bar, slowly sipping a glass of whiskey. The low lights turn everything golden and warm, yet he feels empty and cold, the bitter alcohol burning his throat. He hasn’t felt this pit of sadness in years, but he knows it’s worth it, because to miss you in the way he does now, means he finally has you. After years of longing and pining, you’re his.

He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. Twenty days. He can do this. You both can.

The bartender approaches, gesturing to his nearly empty glass. "Another, sir?"

Dieter shakes his head, declining another drink. With a long sigh, he settles his tab and makes his way up to the now-empty hotel suite.

The silence hits him as soon as he opens the door. No more laughter, no more of your soft humming as you get ready for bed. Just stillness.

Though, there are still signs of you through the space. Your favorite mug is still sitting on the counter. One of your hair ties left on the bathroom counter. The bottle of your favorite lotion is still sitting on the nightstand, right next to your water glass.

He picks up the lotion, opening it to smell the scent of you as he sits on the edge of the bed. He pulls out his phone, opening the photo he took of you and him this morning, sitting in bed toasting each other with mimosas.

He stares at the photo. Your hair is tousled and sleep rumpled. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders while the sheets are bunched up around your chest, barely concealing your body. Your eyes are bright and your smile wide as you clink your glass against his.

He wishes he could taste the orange juice and champagne on your lips again.

He can’t help himself, he knows the next picture, his thumb swipes across the screen. In this one, the sheet has slipped down, exposing the swell of your breasts. 

He swipes to the next photo and he exhales a deep sigh. His face is nestled between your breasts, your skin glowing in the soft morning light. Your fingers tangled in his messy hair. He can almost feel the softness of your skin against his cheek, he yearns for it.

Dieter feels a warmth spreading through his body as he swipes to the next photo. This one makes his cock twitch - his mouth latched onto your nipple, cheeks hollowed as he sucks. His eyes are locked on the camera, dark with mischief and lust. One of your hands is gripping his hair tightly. Your head his tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted in a soft gasp.

Right after this picture, he tossed the phone on the bedside table and fucked you.  

An idea lights in his mind as he sends the photos to you. It’ll be a nice surprise for you when you land.

A remembrance of this morning. Miss you like crazy. Call me when you can, even if it wakes me. i love you

—-

The plane touches down on the tarmac at LAX, sadness washes over you as it taxis to the gate. Soon, you’ll be home, far away from Dieter’s arms.

You make your way through customs in a tired daze, the harsh fluorescent lights of the airport seem to only amplify your exhaustion. You miss the gray London skies.

Finally, you collect your luggage and step out into the warm Los Angeles night air. It feels almost unreal to be back home now… especially when it feels like Dieter is your home and he’s over 5,000 miles away.

As you wait for your Uber, you dig your phone out of your purse and power it on for the first time since leaving London. A flood of notifications immediately pops up on the screen. Your heart skips a beat when you see several texts from Dieter.

With a soft smile, you open his texts first. Your breath catches as you pull your phone closer and swipe through the photos from your last morning together. You ache to feel his touch again. Twenty days suddenly feels too long to bear, but you tell yourself you’ll get through it. Dieter’s worth the wait.

You're still smiling at Dieter's sweet message when another text notification pops up. Your heart leaps into your throat as you see the name: Warren.

There’s a photo of you and Dieter… a selfie you took of the two of you on the balcony a couple mornings ago. Welcome home. Looks like you had a lot of fun in London. We should talk. 

✨✨✨

A/N: OH MY GOD, RIGHT?!?!! I don't wish the long distance relationship goodbye at the airport departure curb on anyone. I may have shed a tear or two while writing that scene.

✨✨✨

Perma tagging: @schnarfer @mothandpidgeon @ohheypedrito Tagging some friends and lovers of GG (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @sawymredfox, @secretelephanttattoo, @galway-girlatwork, @whatumuhcallit, @chronically-ghosted @copperhalfcent, @jessthebaker, @moel-jiller, @sunnytuliptime, @jokesonthem @lotusbxtch, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @flawssy-227, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @littlemisspascal @cas-readsandwrites, @wave0fg00dvibes, @rulexofxnines, @tuquoquebrute, @littlevenicebitch69 @readingiskeepingmegoing, @marissa47, @amyispxnk, @peepawispunk, @ishabull ✨

[lialacleaf]

Simon Riley x Reader

Bella Notte - Pt. 1

Synopsis: Simon’s dog REALLY likes you. And maybe Simon does too. It’s hard to make a move on you though when Riley is determined to embarrass him.

Art by @shkretart because their Simon is my favorite~

Warnings: second hand embarrassment, no editing

It was that time of year between the light chill of fall and the frost of winter, when you needed a coat in the morning and gloves to keep your fingers from going stiff, only to shed your layers for a light jacket until the sun started to set in the early evening.

It was raining again, and as you glanced up at the grey sky from under your umbrella you wondered if the whether persisted into the night you might wake up to a frozen driveway.

Your eyes darted over the address on your phone screen for the hundredth time as you approached the gated neighborhood, taking note of the quaint townhouses smooshed together. You approached the gate with some apprehension, taking note of the security guard who looked ready to defend his post with his very life despite being armed with only a taser.

“Afternoon, Miss,” he greeted, tipping his head at you. Police officers in London were polite more often than not, but you still got a little nervous about speaking to them. The second you opened your mouth they either thought you were a tourist, or coming around to cause trouble.

“Hi, I’m here for-“ you paused to check the address once more. “33 B,” you said, showing him your phone screen that displayed the quaint little pet-service app. “I’m a pet sitter.”

He looked at you contemplatively for a moment, and you swallowed thickly. “You from around these parts?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“I moved to York a few months ago,” you explained, preparing to pull out your IDs when he held up a hand.

“You met the fellow that lives there before?” He asked warily, and you frowned.

“Not in person, but he passed the background check so I’m sure it’s alright,” you argued.

He gave you a good look, as if he were trying to memorize you appearance before nodding to himself and swiping his badge. The gate opened with a mechanical whirring and he beckoned you inside.

You shook your head at the exchange, shoving your phone back into the pocket of your raincoat.

33B appeared to be a relatively new unit, the paint on the door appearing fresh as if it had just been done in the past few days.

There was no welcome mat, and the front porch seemed rather bare. You half expected one of those ‘Home of a German Shepherd’ signs to be hanging on the front door, but there was very little to indicate you were in the right place.

Regardless, you knocked on the door, noticing the lack of a bell.

There was no answer.

You knocked again, this time a little harder.

“Hello? Is anyone there? It’s y/n from TailWag!” You called. You were just about to turn around when the door swung open, revealing a tall man with soft eyes and a thick mustache. He seemed surprised to see you before offering you a polite smile.

“Are you…Simon?” You asked, but the man shook his head. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I-“

“No, no. You’re in the right place. Was just on my way out.” He nodded to you with a smile, stepping around you as he let himself out.

Your watched him leave, brown raised curiously before the clearing of a throat had your head swiveling around.

The sight that greeted you had you feeling like a gnome in the presence of a giant. The man was tall, with a head of messy blonde hair and piercing brown as that had you shaking a little in your bright yellow rain boots.

“Oh.”

He regarded you warily with a raised brow. “Y/n?”

You nodded quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash. There was something so commanding about the way he spoke.

“Right. Come in.”

His home was just as sparse on the inside as it was on the outside. “Sorry if this was a bad time.”

“It’s the time we agreed on,” he stated flatly.

“Right, I just- you had company, and I didn’t mean to interrupt…” you trailed off as he continued to stare at you with that piercing gaze. “So Riley? Where is she?” You asked, getting to the reason for your visit.

Simon let out a sharp whistle that made you jump, and the sound of feet running down the stairs alerted you to the incoming of the four legged creature.

You watched the dog bound around the corner and into the living room, tongue killing and amber eyes alight.

A smile broke out on your face as you kneeled down to give the dog some attention. “Hello there,” you cooed, scratching her behind the ears. “Aren’t you a pretty girl.”

“What brings an American out to York Minster?” He asked, regaining your attention. His eyes were cold and calculating.

“Right. My father moved out here after he and my mother split. He left her out of the will so I came to sell his home when he passed but..the gothic cathedrals kinda grew on me, and I got rather inspired so I decided to stay. Wasn’t much left on the mortgage anyhow,” you explained.

He raised both brows at you curiously. “And you pay for that with dog-sitting?”

You shook your head. “Absolutely not, I’m a Ghost Writer. It makes good money. The dog-sitting is so I feel less lonely,” you said, returning your attention to bestowing Riley with your affection and massaging the scruff around her neck.

“Why not just get a dog?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You glanced up at him, awkwardly meeting his gaze. “I uhh, I had one, passed away shortly after my Dad. I think she missed him. I haven’t been ready to move on,” you admitted, feeling rather put on the spot with the way Simon was watching you as if he were looking for a flaw, or a reason to kick you out of his home.

“Fair enough,” he agreed, and you loosed a breath. You couldn’t help but feel like you were going to end up with a knife in your throat if you made one wrong move. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks at a time. You live around here?” He asked curtly.

You didn’t like the way he looked at you. It felt…judgmental, as if he were trying to decide if you were trustworthy, or if you were plotting some evil deed. “I live in the other side of town.”

He nodded. “Feel free to use the spare room, the place is more hers than it is mine at this point. She deserves a good retirement,” he said gesturing to the dog.

You blinked as realization finally set in. “Oh! Your military! I see now,” you said, glancing down at Riley who was still patiently seated beside her master.

“So you’re not retired?” You asked, and he nodded. “There are plenty of adoption agencies, and families that take on service animals-“

“I’m her family,” he interrupted, sounding very close to having snapped at you, and you winced.

“Right! Of course, I just meant that pet-sitters are expensive and-“

“You’re concerned I can’t afford to pay you?” He asked gruffly.

“No! No I- That’s not what I meant,” you palmed your face as you stood to your full height, which wasn’t much compared to his. “I’ve been doing this since I was in college and I’ve had more than a few cases of abandonment. It’s usually the ones that are gone a lot. I just wanna know what I’m getting into, alright?” You explained, holding your hands out peacefully as if you were trying to convince a wolf animal not to attack you.

You briefly noted that Riley seems much more manageable than her handler. You, however, we’re too soft hearted, and he simply had to understand that if you were going to care for Riley.

He eyed you for a moment, before nodding in understanding. “If I ever don’t make it back arrangements will be made. You won’t need to worry about that,” he assured you.

You let out a relieved sigh. “Good. We’re on the same page then.”

He nodded in agreement, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop staring at you like he was deciding how to go about skinning you alive.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you said, patting Riley on the head much to her delight.

“My flight leaves early in the morning. I’ll text you a code for the front door.”

Your forced a smile as offered him you hand in a friendly gesture. “Perfect.” He didn’t accept your offered hand, but you weren’t too disappointed. You were just grateful you wouldn’t have to see him for the next few weeks.

AN: ahhh this one is gonna be fun! The inspiration for this story came from my own fur babies, one of which I’m using as my visual for Riley. Can’t wait to share part 2!

[sdmnpact]

Sweet Comfort.

Wroetoshaw x Reader fluff

Masterlist

~~~

You woke up feeling horrible. Your stomach churned and your forehead was burning hot. The bad thing is that you had planned on going grocery shopping today as you had no food in the fridge. You would have used a shopping service but you like going shopping and choosing your own things especially the fruits and vegetables.

Fortunately for you, your boyfriend Harry, who would do anything in the world to make you happy, so he would gladly go shopping for you. He agreed to go shopping but you told him that you wanted to facetime him so you can still feel like you're there and choose what you want.

Your phone buzzed as you got a facetime call, Harry had arrived at the grocery store.

"Hey baby, I'm here!" He said as his face appeared on screen. He was of course wearing a jumper and had his hair especially messy. "Okay great, now you got the list I sent you right?" He nodded his head and went on whatsapp to check the list.

"Okay so first you want me to get vegetables?"

"Yes Harry! Are you even looking at the list."

"Well I'm trying to but there's a gorgeous woman on my screen and I can't focus!"

"Oh shut up you nerd, I look horrible right now."

"Never. You will never look horrible to me." You love this boy so much.

"Okay, anyways, make sure you show me the things before you put them in the bag!"

"Yeah yeah." He said.

He did all your shopping for you. He picked out every piece of fruit and vegetable carefully then showed you each item without complaining even going as far as to do 360 shots of each.

He spent about 2 hours buying 27 items because he was spending those 2 hours with you. It was on his phone but nonetheless, he loved doing this with you. Even though you felt terrible, your boy knew how to make you feel better.

>>>

Harry finished all the shopping and arrived at your flat. You two didn't live together yet but it's almost like you did with all the time you spent together. He obviously had a key and let himself in.

"Baby, I'm home." He loved saying that everytime he came over.

You were about to crawl out of bed from under the three blankets you were buried in when Harry walked in.

"No darling, don't get up, let me do all this." He gestured towards the kitchen. You nodded your head and grabbed a handful of tissues from the nightstand.

You watched as he went back into the kitchen area. You laid there listen to the unbagging of items, the opening of the fridge, and the sound of the stove turning on.

"Harry? You cooking something?" You shouted from you bedroom.

"It's alright, I'll just be a sec!"

You were curious, usually you do the cooking and Harry's cooking, well let's just say... it wasn't his strong suit.

Minutes had passed as you stayed there scrolling on your phone. The scent of something salty and warm filled the air. Seconds later, Harry walked in, steam rising from the bowl he was holding.

He set them down on the nightstand and went to get something else. He came in seconds later with a cup of steaming hot tea.

"Whats this then." You said very giddy, sitting up. Usually you take care of yourself since you moved to London. You're family was back home and you've always been the one looking out for yourself since then so this was very different. It was very nice.

"I made you some chicken noodle soup- now it's not homemade but I saw this old bitty on the label so I thought it would be good. I've also got you a nice cup of tea." He said smiling from ear to ear as he carefully showed you the bowl.

"Harry" You paused feeling like you were about to cry. "This is so thoughtful, you seriously didn't have to."

"Y/n, of course I have to. Your my love, my girl!" He said planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You felt tears in your eyes, Harry noticed and grabbed a tissue wiping at your cheek.

"Okay Harry you need to stop, I'm so emotional right now." You laughed wiping at your cheeks. He's so precious to you, you can't help but wonder how you got so lucky as to have him as your boyfriend.

He laughed as he sat next to you holding the bowl and spoon. "Here." He grabbed a spoonful of the soup about to feed it to you.

You opened your mouth and looked into his clear blue eyes as he focused on putting the spoon in your mouth. You found him so handsome, you couldn't help but stare at your man.

"What?"

"Nothing, just admiring your beauty." You said as you watched him put the soup down. He moved to the other side of the bed, laying down next to your wrapping you in his arms.

"Don't, I'm sick." You said not wanting to pass on whatever you had even though you have spent more than enough time close anyways.

"I don't care and if I get sick, we can be sick together."

[iinsertblognamee]

the streets of barcelona

summary; yn foord and alexia putellas meet

spanish | english translation

"You got everything packed?"

A small nod was all you responded back to your sister, as you let yourself get one last look at your shared apartment. The room looked practically the same from a simple glance, the discoloured paint on the walls mixed with the old posters you had found at a garage sale when you first moved in. The kitchen sink holds the dirty plates from breakfast, alongside the empty wine glasses from last night's celebrations.

You let yourself study the room further, the missing objects standing out to you like a sore thumb, the rooms somehow seeming bare without all your personal items that were now packed away and about halfway towards your new apartment.

Your eye caught Caitlin's at the last second, a small frown appearing on her lips, her eyes still red from last night. It doesn't take long for her eyes to well up once again, her bottom lip wobbling.

The distance between you two becomes extinct in an instant, as your arms wrap around each other. Your grips are so tight that neither of you can't make it if it's you or the younger woman who is shaking, but you don't dare to let go. Your lips press kisses in her hairline, as you mumble 'It's going to be okay' mixed with 'You're gonna be okay'.

It couldn't have been a few minutes before the timer on your phone filled the silence, Cailtin tenses in your embrace, before sniffling.

You give yourself one last squeeze, before pulling away. Bringing your hand up to Caitlin's cheek to wipe away her tears.

You had both said your official goodbyes last night, hoping to avoid all of this, this morning.

"I'm gonna miss you chicky" She sent you a small smile at the nickname, before grabbing your suitcase from the front door as you grabbed your passport and plane ticket.

You had arranged a pickup service to take you to the airport, wanting a few moments before you were thrown into the madness that was about to come. As excited as you were, you couldn't deny the anxiety that followed. The idea of a new team was always nerve-racking, but the added stress of moving to a country with no one you know, as well as speaking very little Spanish was keeping you on edge.

The driver met you at the steps of your apartment, taking the suitcase off your sister, as she pulled you into one last hug, squeezing you extra tight before letting go - a small wave and a 'good luck' and then she was gone.

The car ride over was nerve-racking, your knee bouncing as you watched the houses outside go by. The traffic was decent enough, the sun shining down on the airport as you thanked the driver once more, before making your way through the entry.

You gave one last look outside, taking in the sunny London that you had called home for the past three years, the crumbling thought finally hitting you.

London was no longer home.

―

The sight of Barcelona was a sight for sore eyes, your suitcase trailing behind as you attempted to move around the groups of people surrounding the waiting bay.

You had been contacted by the management team a few days prior organising a driver to pick you up from the airport and take you to your new apartment, figuring the last thing you needed was to get lost on your first day in Barcelona.

You looked out for the number plate you had memorised, walking past car after car - apologising to the people you bumped into along the way. It would have been one of the last cars parked on the strip, a woman dressed in familiar colours, sitting on the hood with her arms crossed.

She had thick sunglasses on, dark so you couldn't tell if she was watching you or not but as you got closer, her attention seemed to shift from the skyline to you. Her arms don't uncross, as she stands up - her head visibly looking you up and down before a calm, but detached look appeared on her face.

"Miss Foord?"

"Sí-" 'Yes'. You blame the flight for the way your voice cracks, coughing a little before nodding your head "Yes, yes. sorry." She nods her head but doesn't add anything else, opening the back door for you before taking the suitcase out of your hand and walking towards the boot.

The awkwardness doesn't help your beating heart, wiping your palms on your track pants before dipping your way into the car. Making sure to close the door behind you.

The lady makes her way into the front of the car a few seconds later. The radio plays softly in the background, your attention glued out your window as you watched the city fly by - attempting to remember every street sign and building you see.

"¿Cómo estuvo tu vuelo?". 'How was your flight?'.

Your head whips right around, the lady looking towards the road, you almost think you might have imagined she spoke, your mouth opening before closing again.

The silence fills the space in an instant, a frown appearing on your lips. The car comes to a stop at the lights, the driver turning her head towards you with a look on her face that you take as confusion.

"Uh. Lo sien" 'uh. I'm sorry'. The sudden realisation that you have no idea what she's asked, and now you can't even remember the basic Spanish you taught yourself since the transfer was confirmed. "Uh no. no entiendo?". 'uh no. I don't understand'. You wince at your attempt, the confusion clear in your voice as the driver tilts her head a little before turning her attention back to the road.

"How was the flight?" Her English is a hundred times better than your Spanish, Her voice seems softer in English, not as deep.

"Good. Uh. Buena. It was Buena. Fast, Which is always good" 'good'. your attempt to bring some Spanish into the conversation isn't missed by the driver, her lips curling into a small smirk before disappearing almost as fast.

"Sí, eso es bueno" 'Yes that is good'. As limited as your Spanish knowledge may run, you pick up 'yes' and 'good', nodding your head with a small smile as she catches your gaze in the rear mirror.

Feeling a little more confident, you give yourself a few seconds to think up what other Spanish you have learnt before attempting to start up a conversation again.

"What's uh, um. ¿Su nombre?" 'Your name?'

"Camila"

"Camila" You repeat, looking out the window again.

"I help get the transfers settled" She adds, turning a corner before catching your gaze in the rear mirror once again. "It's a beautiful place but can be very daunting".

"Sí. Sí" 'yes. yes'. You agree before adding "But very exciting. My, um, my hermana is very jealous" 'sister'.

"¿Tienes una hermana?" 'you have a sister?'. She catches herself before you can ask, "You have a sister?"

"Sí. Sí. A younger sister. She's a footballer too" 'yes. yes'.

"Maravillosa. Maravillosa. Wonderful". 'wonderful. wonderful'.

Before you could respond, the car came to a stop - your attention pulled away from Camila and out towards the modern building.

You recognised it in an instant, the many photos and emails that you and management had been exchanging over the past couple of months came down to this.

"Hogar dulce hogar" 'home sweet home'. You couldn't find yourself asking what Camila had said, too engrossed with the building in front of you, it seemed bigger than in the pictures, prettier too.

You take a deep breath in, glancing at the building once more before taking a deep breath and opening the car door.

"Welcome Home" and for once you wished Camila had spoken in Spanish so you wouldn't understand what she had just said.

―

Camila didn't stay for too long, handing over your keys and helping you bring up your suitcase, she had written her contact details on a piece of paper that was left on your kitchen bench. Explained that she would be back tomorrow to bring you to training and then left.

Your furniture had arrived before you had, placed through the apartment alongside all your boxes. If you hadn't been so emotionally drained for the past 24 hours you probably would have attempted to start unpacking but your hunger won this round, and with some newfound confidence you decided to check out the supermarket that was just down the street.

The walk was nice enough, a slight breeze filling the streets as people passed by.

Getting to your destination, 'tienda de comestibles' 'grocery'. written out the front, buckets of fresh fruit outside brought a smile to your face before walking in. The smell of many different flavours fills the air, and two children giggling and chasing each other almost run into you, before quickly yelling out 'Lo lamento' 'sorry'. You only smile and shake your head, taking yourself further through the store.

You pick out some cold meats, before grabbing yourself a couple of bread rolls, a small jar of pesto and a chocolate bar. Making your way towards the checkout, your attention purely on grabbing some notes out of your wallet, before slamming into a body.

"¿Adónde vas?!" 'Where are you going?!'.

Your head snaps up, an apology on the tip of your tongue, before sucking your breath in, her eyes widening as they meet yours.

Your brain seems to short-circuit, working overtime to say something, anything. Your limited knowledge of Spanish has completely gone, your mouth opening and closing before you practically choke out

"La Reina" 'the queen'.

You feel the heat rush through your cheeks instantly as your eyes widen.

"Como me llamaste?" 'what did you call me?'. she choked out, her cheeks almost matching yours. You take a step back, suddenly realising just how close the two of you were to each other.

"I am so sorry. lo lamento. lo lamento" 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry'. You splatter out, taking a few more steps back, attempting to get away as fast as possible but a hand stops you. Her hand.

"Ey. No hay necesidad de disculparse" 'hey. there's no need to apologise'.

Her words are missed by you, although her eyes soften - your confusion clear as you try to think about to all those Spanish classes you took. Concentration seemed to be your biggest fault at the moment, especially with the way she was looking at you.

"Don't apologise" Her voice was softer that you almost missed what she was saying, her hand rubbing your arm distracted you once again.

"Sorry," you reply, your cheeks heating up further as she lets out a small laugh, shaking her head with a smile on her lips. "Tan linda" 'so cute'. she mumbles, but you manage to catch it with how close you are once again.

"I-I don't know what that means" you mumble back.

Her cheeks heat up once again, her eyes suddenly interested in anything but yours.

She shakes her head, before her gaze catches yours once more, dropping down to your lips and then back up. She goes to say something else before a cough brings you both back, a mother with a baby on her hip looking at the pair of you with annoyance.

"Estoy tratando de pasar" 'I'm trying to get through'. Her voice is sharp, the footballer in front of you moving you both out of her way, a small "Lo lamento" 'sorry'. leaving her lips, as the woman just scoffs and walks past the pair of us.

The silence fills the space instantly, your eyes finding hers once again. The moment is gone, as you bite your lip - unsure what to say next.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall creates a chain reaction, a yawn leaving your lips as the events of the past twenty-four hours finally catch up to you.

You bring your hand over your mouth, yawning once again.

"Perdóname" 'forgive me'.

The Spanish leaving your lips brings a smile to her face once again, her eyes lighting up.

"¿tú hablas español?" 'you speak spanish?'. Her voice light, a small laugh finishing the question off.

"un poco. aunque no muy bueno" 'a bit. although not very good'. You struggle a little, your pronunciation not perfect, but the smile on her face as her eyes watch your hand indicate 'a little bit' is enough to bring a smile back to your face.

"It's okay, I'll teach you" Her switch to English surprises you, her voice lighter than her native tongue. Your excitement at the thought fills, your eyes widening at the thought, "Really?"

"sí, claro. sería un honor para mí" 'yes of course. It would be an honour for me'. You catch enough of the sentence to understand she's true to her offer.

"Thank you, Alexia"

"No hay problema mi amor" 'no problem my love'.

The blush that attacks your cheeks at the sound of 'amor' 'love'. coming off her lips only widens her smile.

She vowed for that day on, she would always call you 'mi amor' 'my love'.