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bubble-dream-inc · 1 year

Text

under your skin.

The last walk-in you expected to see in your tattoo parlor in one rainy day was a massive masked behemoth of a man. It came as even more of a surprise when you wanted to see him there again and again; and a final time when he kept coming back.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Tattoo artist reader

rbs greatly appreciated!

WC: 7K

a/n: listen, as a tattoo artist irl, the first thing i did when i discovered ghost had a tattoo was to think how i had to self indulge. i’d kill to tattoo this man personally. shoutout to @117s-girl, @somnibats and Eddie for the tremendous help when i had writer’s block, and @deafeningcat for the amazing beta read as always <3

tags: fluff, reader being horny for ghost, ghost being slightly ooc, mentions at verbal abuse, slightly suggestive and slight angst.

You remember the first time Simon Riley walked into your shop.

It was a cold and rainy day - like most days in Manchester - and you were idling by, doodling on a notebook by the front desk and listening to whatever was playing on the radio without paying it much attention. Glancing at the clock on the wall where the empty loveseat was, you were starting to wonder if you should go get something to eat while you waited, when the bell on the front door chimed, indicating someone had come in.

At first, you thought he was going to rob you, and in a second you were already kissing your expensive equipment goodbye in your head, cursing the fact you had decided to buy that pricey tattoo machine you were eyeing for so long just last week, but those thoughts vanished when the figure just stood in front of you. Silently, you eyed the skull mask and sunglasses that covered his face, wondering what was this guy’s deal, since it was way too grey outside to be wearing any sort of eyewear. Trying not to let his huge stature looming over you be intimidating, you were about to say something when his gruff voice cut the silence.

“You take walk-ins?”

So he really was a client, you thought. Rummaging through the notebooks in the desk, you quickly glanced at your schedule, seeing your next client wasn’t supposed to come for a few good hours, and decided you were curious about the masked man.

“Well, it depends. What were you thinking of getting?”

He stood still for a moment, and you wondered if he heard you at all, but suddenly he reached for something in the pocket of his jeans, extending a neatly folded piece of paper in front of you. His voice filled the silence again as you unfolded the paper, and you found the thick accent oddly calming coming from him.

“I want it to be a sleeve. Covering my left forearm.”

You opened it to find a surprisingly intricate design, and it seemed like whoever did it made it with the intention of actually getting it as a sleeve. Not taking the masked guy for an artist, you found a signature on the bottom of the page, a chicken scratch that read “Tommy Riley”. Usually, you’d make light conversation and ask about the design, especially when it looked important, but something told you not to pry into this man’s business. Assuming he’s this “Tommy” fella, you just smiled politely, deciding you could fit the first session of it into your work day.

“Sure. It should take a few sessions, though, is that alright with you?” He simply nodded, wordlessly, and you decided that was good enough of an answer.

Leading him into the procedure room after getting his approval on the price, you made sure to give him a consent form for him to fill out and sign while you traced the design to a stencil - making sure to cut the right adjustments to wrap around his visibly huge forearm. You wondered if he was a weightlifter of sorts, or maybe just a gym rat.

Transferring the stencil to his skin and prepping your materials for tattooing was a completely silent ordeal, and your client seemed more than content in just letting the silence linger for the remainder of your encounter, and even if you were getting antsy by it, you were glad he didn’t comment on how visibly nervous you were when you wrapped your gloved hands around his arm to make the stencil stick - feeling his warmth and the protruding veins even through the latex that covered your own skin.

“You have any other tattoos?” You asked, stepping on the machine pedal to make sure your tattoo machine was at the right voltage while he got comfortable setting his arm on the arm rest.

“No.”

“Cool.” God, you felt awkward. “I’m gonna start now, tell me if it hurts too much.”

“Right.”

You felt stupid saying that to a man that had arms the size of your head and was at least 6,4. As expected, he didn’t even flinch when the needles touched his skin, but you weren’t about to give up on your mission to make conversation with your mysterious client. While tracing it with the machine, you analyzed the design a bit closer.

“That’s some interesting art.” It wasn’t. It was tacky as hell, all missiles and skulls and other edgy elements, but you were not going to say that to him. “You like guns?”

“Something like that.”

You gave up trying to chat him up shortly after. Even with the weird dad sunglasses on, you could still feel his stare on you, unnerving at best, and you wondered what was up with the mask. In your line of work, you’d met some interesting individuals, and you considered your shop a safe haven for all outcasts and misfits; you’d known, after all you did decide to pursue tattooing as a career. Still, something about this man - Tommy? - made you feel an itch to see what lied beyond the mask - both figuratively and literally. At least it would take a few more sessions to finish his piece, hopefully he’d say more than five words at once to you at some point.

It took you two hours to finish tracing it, and you deemed it was good to go and begin shading another day. Getting into professional mode, you gave him directions on how to care for it and asked him to come back after a month to start on shading it, and, as expected, he only nodded to you. Going back to the front desk, he handed the bills containing the price you had settled on, and turned around, leaving without another word. Out of curiosity, you picked up his file. The first thing you noticed was that he had left the “Occupation” space blank.

The second thing you noticed was that the signature read “Simon Riley”.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Simon didn’t come back after a month.

A good few months later, you just figured he’d given up and was now walking around with an unfinished tattoo, or, worse, he had picked another artist to finish the job, and the thought made you angrier than you’d like to admit. Despite your annoyance, whenever you’d organize your clients files, you’d find yourself lingering on his, weirdly curious and feeling like he was a puzzle you were dying to solve.

A long time passed - you don’t know how much, but you’d say it was more than a year - before he showed up again, and, once again, it was unannounced. You were finishing a client’s tattoo when your friend - and coworker - knocked on the procedure room door, and when you’d told her to come in, she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“There’s a guy in the waiting room asking for you. Said you were doing his sleeve…” She quietly announced, and you just stared at her quizzically, waiting for her to continue. "He 's…Big. Tall guy with a creepy skull mask.”

She whispered the last part so he wouldn’t hear it, even if he was a good corridor distance away and the metal music coming from the radio would drown it out, and after a few moments you realized she was talking about Simon. You remember answering something to her and finishing the tattoo on auto pilot before heading to the front desk, and, sure enough, Simon was standing there menacingly, in his whole huge aura, seemingly unbothered by how his height, frame, and mask were making the other clients in the shop regard him with uneasy looks. His eyes met yours once you showed up. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the sunglasses anymore, and his fabric mask had been replaced by a simpler balaclava and a hard skull mask on top that you hoped was made out of a synthetic material.

Now bare, his gaze revealed its intensity to you, the dark hues following your every move in a way you supposed you could find intimidating if a small, very weird part of you didn’t find it attractive. He seemed tired, eyes cast downwards and with bags surrounding it, and you wondered what had happened when he was gone.

“Hey.” You breathed, straining your neck to look up at him and completely forgetting about the other people in the room. “Riley, right? I’m guessing you’re here for the sleeve?”

He seemed slightly surprised you remembered his name, but the impression of seeing emotion in his eyes was gone in an instant as he simply nodded at you.

“Yeah. You got time?”

You didn’t. But you’d make it work, you weren’t about to send away the man who had, for some reason, plagued your thoughts so much for the last months.

“I got a few more clients, but if you don’t mind waiting, i can fit you in?”

You hated how uneasy you sounded, your hands fiddling with a stray loose line of your ripped jeans as you waited for his answer.

“That works.”

With his gruff reply, he turned and sat down in the waiting area, and you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

The hours went by, the clients came and went to and from your procedure room as well as your colleague’s, yet, every single time you left the room to go to the front desk have a sip of water or check your next client’s name, Simon was still there, patiently waiting, the loveseat seeming oddly small under him, and his all black, dark getup blending perfectly with the black walls of the studio. If anything, it made you even more intrigued, since most people would have left by now, considering how long a tattoo takes and he could just come back another day, but he didn’t show any signs of having anywhere else to be. The people traffic started to wind down, and soon enough, you dismissed your last client of the day as you were the only artist left in the shop and the sun had already hid in the horizon.

“Glad to see you again. I was wondering if you had gotten another artist.” You laughed somewhat nervously, taking a breather by the glass door while Simon finished filling out another responsibility form, and you had to ignore how nervous you felt when he turned to glance at you with those dark and intense eyes of his.

“Got busy, that’s all.” He murmured, setting the pen down on the front desk and turning to the wall where your flash pieces were displayed. “And I like your work.”

Feeling your eyes widen, you tried to conceal how flustered the comment made you feel behind a cool chuckle, but something told you Simon could see right through you. Going back inside and pointing him towards the procedure room, you briefly glanced at the fresh consent form and realized he filled out his occupation this time, the words “Army” surprisingly not phasing you one bit.

Simon was the same as the last time, quiet as a grave. But, seeing as you were wrapping up the shading quicker than you’d anticipated, you decided this time you would not let this mysterious man walk out of your studio - possibly forever - without at least getting one piece of information out of him.

“So…does it mean anything?” You nodded towards his arm, trying to play it cool. Being in this field, you quickly realized not everyone gets tattoos that mean anything, and most of them are really just for aesthetics, but the signature below the original design had you wondering, even if the newfound information that he was in the military made the over the top missiles and dog tags inked on his arm make a lot more sense. He stared at you from behind the mask for a moment, making you feel queasy under his stare and suddenly very aware of how much you were draped over his arm trying to get the shading on one particular skull to look just right.

“Yeah.” After a few moments he replied, a wave of sudden relief washing over you upon realizing you had not, in fact, crossed a line. “My brother made it.”

“He’s quite the artist.”

“He really was.”

Oh.

You decided to drop the subject after the implication.

“And what branch are you in?” Not looking at him, you spoke in a low tone, too concentrated on the machine in your hands to realize you were maybe asking more than he was comfortable talking. “You know, uh, in the army.”

“Special Air Forces.” You realized he tensed almost imperceptibly, relaxing once you only hummed.

“Cool. I’d reckon you guys had tattoo parlors closer to base, though.”

“We do.” He huffed. “But I know the guys. Not nearly as clean as here.”

At that, you chuckled gently, missing the way Simon’s eyes softened at the sound.

You continued the piece in comfortable silence, distantly registering the pitter-patter of the rain that had just started falling on the street beyond the front doors. Finishing it up, faster than you would have liked, you decided the corny design looked good - really good - on him, and he might have been the only guy possible to pull it off, which could have been related to how big and strong his arms looked. Wrapping the tattoo in plastic film and reminding him to not keep it on for too long, you had to focus on acting professional and not let him know you were ogling at the recently inked piece of skin. The long sleeve shirt he had rolled up to his forearms did not help you one bit, nor did the way his eyes followed your every single movement.

When you got back to the front desk - relieved to find the rain had stopped - you expected Simon to just pay and leave silently the same way he did the last time, but he actually lingered, letting his eyes wander through the flash pieces displayed in a neat corkboard in the waiting room - this one with your name written on top. You actually don’t know when he got your name - something told you it was when he asked your coworker for you. He seemed quite interested in one particular design that had been gathering dust for a long time on the board, considering how big it was.

“See something you like?” You followed his gaze, realizing it was a ram skull chest piece you had completely forgotten about; it looked too dark and menacing for most people looking for walk-ins and flash tattoos. “That one was meant to be a chest piece. Works for the back, too.”

Simon studied it for a few moments. What was up with this guy and skulls? Finally, he turned to you.

“When can you do it?”

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The third time Simon Riley walked into your studio, it was, by far, the most memorable one.

Unsurprisingly enough, he had decided to set an appointment for the chest piece to be the last one of your day, a week later; whether he enjoyed the night time better or just wanted to not be bothered with other people around, that was a mystery to you. There was a third option in the back of your head, but you told yourself it was delusional, and your fascination with the masked man was, in fact, one sided. That didn’t stop you from greeting him with a cheery smile as you looked up from where you were doodling on your notebook on the front desk, pretty much like your first encounter. However, you didn’t think too much of what exactly the chest piece implied as you headed to your procedure room with Simon in tow. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you freezed for a second, holding up the carbon stencil in your hands.

“Uh, you might wanna…take off your shirt. It’ll be more comfortable for you.”

Preparing the stencil gel, you tried your best to ignore him and not let your eyes wander too much as he lifted the unnecessarily tight black t-shirt over his head, careful as to not remove the balaclava and skull mask combo, folding it neatly and setting the piece of cloth over your table before standing next to you in front of the full body mirror.

I’m a professional. I’m a professional. I’m a professional.

If you thought Simon was huge before, that was an understatement. 6,4 feet of pure, naked muscle stood inches away from your much smaller body, and you were extremely relieved to realize that he had, probably out of consideration for you, shaved his chest beforehand - the same couldn’t be said for the faint happy trail very clearly peeking from his jeans, sitting way lower on his hips than you’d like. Scolding yourself over and over for fawning like a horny teenager, you hoped the nervous tremble in your hands as you delicately smoothed the gel over his collarbones wasn’t as obvious as you felt it was. Even through the latex gloves you could feel the heat coming from his pecs, as well as a few minor scars that shouldn’t give you too much trouble. You decided to ignore the very visible and very big bullet scar on his side. As he adjusted his dog tags to hang behind his neck so as to not get in your way, you finally peeled the stencil off, trying to calm your frantic beating heart as he analyzed it in the mirror to make sure it was in the right placement.

It got worse when he actually laid on the tattoo table - comically dwarfed under his enormous frame. Sure, you had tattooed a fair share of chests along the years - both men’s and women’s - and it never really flustered you, after all, it was your job, seeing skin was a very big part of it. However, as you lowered your torso on the bed and tried to adjust your hand to sit as comfortably as possible on his chest, you thanked the gods it was such a big tattoo; you had no idea how you wouldn’t mess it up if it was a tiny one. But you doubted Simon would ever get a tiny tattoo. Above all, you could appreciate how he maintained his breathing slow and steady and, again, didn’t even flinch as the needles touched him, making you like him as a client even more.

“I’ve heard you guys in the army got…codenames?” You started, desperate to start some conversation before your intrusive thoughts won. “What do they call you?”

Slowly, you were getting used to his brief silence before answering you. It seemed like his way to decide if your question was worth answering or not, and you were glad he had found them all to be so far.

“Ghost.”

“Very fitting.”

You were surprised to hear him exhale in a way that resembled a very weak laugh, and you felt giddy knowing you made your ever so quiet and serious client laugh - or something like that. Feeling calmer, you continued the very big piece, strapping in for a long next couple of hours.

They passed quickly, your hand working almost in autopilot as you traced the tattoo’s lineart and made light conversation with Simon - Ghost. You learned he was a Lieutenant, liked bourbon and the mask never came off. Granted, it was mostly you speaking and him answering, but you were glad he was entertaining your nervous ramblings, and you were only slightly embarrassed to admit to yourself you found his southern British accent very soothing on his deep, gruffy voice. In turn, you told him a little more about yourself; why you got into tattooing and even a few funny stories from dealing with past clients.

Finally deciding it was enough strain on his skin for one session, you set your machine down and admired your work, smiling under your mask. Taking a generous amount of the tattooing balm on your fingers, you swallowed your nervousness before gently spreading the substance on his chest so it would heal nicely, not missing the way he relaxed under your touch. If you weren’t so busy panicking by having your hands on such a massive and attractive man, you could ponder on how he seemed to be enjoying that as much as you were. With your approval, he got up to examine the piece on the mirror, and you caught yourself staring into his strong, chiseled, and scarred back, before averting your eyes, choosing to focus instead on cleaning up the inky mess you made on your trolley. You once again went through the now familiar ordeal of him silently thanking you, paying, and leaving into the night.

As Simon Riley left the studio that day, carrying an unfinished piece of your work right on his chest, you realized something clearly had changed in the air between you two. You just had no idea if it was a good or bad thing.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The next time Simon showed up, a month later, you were stressed out of your mind.

You were booked, so you didn’t really have any open spots next to closing time the way he liked it, so he had to settle for coming a bit earlier than usual, which meant there were actually other people in the studio for once, including the one on the front desk yelling in your face.

You couldn’t really remember what he was yelling about, just that you were suddenly regretting your decision of working with people and wondering if it was worth it to stoop down low and insult him back the way he was doing to you. You figured the moment he started yelling about his already finished tattoo that it was most likely another scam attempt coming from him, but it didn’t really matter anymore once you zeroed in on the hulking figure that showed up unexpectedly behind your unpleasant client in the form of your masked savior. For a moment, you were scared things were going to get violent, but Simon didn’t have to do much. It took one glower from him, his gaze sharp enough to cut from way above the smaller man, and he was suddenly stuttering apologies and leaving the studio in a hurry. You ignored the looks the other people in the waiting room were giving the two of you, offering a tired, but extremely grateful smile, to Ghost.

“Hey, Riley.”

He was still staring at where the man had left, and the annoyance on his usually so stoic gaze came as a surprise to you.

“What happened?”

You were already heading into the procedure room, too shaken to deal with the stares of the people in the waiting room any longer, and shot him a sheepish look from over your shoulder.

“Just a rude client being difficult. Not the first time he gave me trouble, either, but it happens.”

Simon didn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he let it slide, for the moment. Heading into the room and closing the door behind you, the air fell into a familiar silence, broken only by the cluttering sounds as you set up your supplies, and, to you, your still frantic heartbeat in your ears by the less than pleasant interaction just a few minutes earlier. It was unlikely, given how observant he was, but you hoped Simon didn’t pick up on just how shaken you were. Still, you took a few moments to calm yourself down as you tested the machine with your feet; Simon had already made himself comfortable on the table, and soon enough you fell into the rhythm of inking him, the same way you had grown used to in those last few months. Focusing on a particularly stubborn piece of skin where the ink didn’t paint as easily, you were lost in thought when his voice pulled you back to reality.

“Are you scared of me?” You heard him ask quietly from above you, instantly knowing he was referring to the way your earlier client had run off on the sight of him. Pausing your ministrations, you looked up from his chest to find him already staring at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Since you were currently working on the details on his collarbone, you haven’t realized how close you actually were to his face, and suddenly you were hit with the realization you could feel his breath through both your masks; and an intoxicating scent of cigarette smoke and cologne. Caught in a trance by his dark gaze, you realized a little too late you were gawking and not really answering his question, which made you feel very glad for the surgical mask covering your suddenly very red face and flustered expression. Looking down to continue your work, you tried to find your words once again.

“Not really. I mean, the mask was off-putting at first, but I've had some odd people as clients. You’re cool, though. You remind me of those big, scary guard dogs, but in a good way.” Cringing at the lame answer, you felt like a kid talking to her crush in middle school all over again, and the huff-slash-chuckle that left Simon only made it worse. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t, and in your flustered stupor you couldn’t find any words either, so you just let the air around you fall into a comfortable silence over again. If it were anyone else, you’d be wary of the constant quietness, but, for some reason, Simon’s presence was enough to make you content, even if no words were exchanged.

Blacking out the parts that had to be inked was a piece of cake for you and your enormous needle - which you were glad was being used on Simon, since, most of your other clients would have been crying from the pain only halfway done with the black - and soon enough you were heading out to the front with him, readying yourself to bid him goodbye and, disappointedly, only see him again in the next month, once his tattoo was healed enough for another session, however, as you approached the waiting room, he made no move to leave. You thought maybe he was, again, inspecting your work displayed on the wall, the prospect of continuing to tattoo him after his chest piece was done getting you giddy already, but he was looking nowhere but in your direction, eyes unreadable behind the skull mask.

“I’ll wait until you close. Who knows if that asshole won’t come back expecting me not to be here anymore.”

Blinking up at him, it took you a few moments to process what he had murmured under his breath, and, in an instant, your heart rate shot up as you tried to wrap your head around the implications. Had it been any other client, you would have laughed it off, telling him not to worry and that you could take care of yourself, but it wasn’t just about anyone. It was him. And for some reason, the fact made you only wordlessly agree with a nod of your head and wide eyes, certain he could now see how clearly flustered and red your face looked. An intrusive part of your brain was screaming at you that he was just being nice, and that the protectiveness was just because of his job and nothing else, but you’d entertain these thoughts later - if ever.

So, much like the second time you’d met him, the rest of your afternoon was spent with seeing Ghost’s massive figure patiently waiting in the way too small loveseat in the front room of the studio, living up to the scary guard dog imagery you had joked about to him, except, this time, in between clients you’d sit besides him to catch a break and make light conversation, the deep rumble of his voice soothing all of your worries in a minute.

As the hours went by, it was way past nightfall when you closed up, everyone else had already left and you were exhausted after washing the studio on your own. True to his word, Simon loomed behind you like a shadow, quiet and intimidating, refusing to leave until he had walked you to your car in safety. You remember thanking him profusely, and him not making a big deal out of it, and the way your heart thrummed in your throat as you drove on autopilot to your house, trying to ignore the way Ghost’s figure walking besides you on the quiet sidewalk a few moments before felt just right.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

It was early August when you woke up in a very good mood that one morning.

Later you’d realize it was because it was the day of Simon’s appointment, but at the time you had chalked it up to just being a sunny day that brightened your spirits.

Business as usual, you went along your day, anxiously waiting for the place to empty out and you’d get your newly discovered favorite customer, not that you’d admit it outloud to him, or even to yourself. It was actually a slower day, with a big break between clients, which you were glad about, so between coffee and water breaks and chit chatting with your coworkers, soon enough the sun went down and the enormous figure of Ghost could be seen crossing the threshold of the studio’s glass door, responding your enthusiastic wave with a nod of his head, eyes relaxed behind the mask. As usual, he followed you inside the procedure room, and you remembered something.

“Lemme see how your sleeve is healing.” Extending your hand, you smiled cheekily at him, giddy after seeing his half-hearted eye roll, and he gave his left forearm for you to inspect. With his busy way of life, you’d have expected to be worse, but it was actually very well taken care of. “Wow, this has healed up perfectly, good job, Simon!”

You beamed up at him, but your smile faltered once you saw his eyes widening at the praise. Oops. He grumbled something in response and you decided to save him the embarrassment, releasing his arm with a chuckle.

No matter how many times he did it, every single time Ghost took his shirt off it made your brain short circuit, but you remained professional and fell into the familiar routine of tattooing him in comfortable silence, only this time it was broken not only by you talking first, but also him. It surprised you to hear him ask you questions first or tell you some non-compromising stories about his job, - making you chuckle a few times hearing about the shenanigans of this “Soap” friend of his - but you weren’t about to complain. You were lost in the familiarity of it all when you realized that you were actually almost done with the shading - meaning his chest piece would end one session earlier than expected. Trying to mask your disappointment, you wrapped it up, forcing a smile to a suddenly very confused Ghost.

“I thought we were going to need another session but, uh, turns out it was…faster than i expected!” You gave him a slight, nervous chuckle, and you swore you saw his eyes widen behind the mask.

As usual, you wrapped the ink in the plastic film - finding it very hard to make the masking tape stick to his large pecs - and gave the same instructions in a robotic way, following him to the front desk where he finished paying for his piece, all in absolute silence and with unreadable eyes. As the transaction was finished, he lingered, standing silently in front of you, looming. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“So, yeah, i guess that’s it…” You gave another chuckle, offering him a gentle smile. “Hey, don’t be a stranger-”

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” He blurted out, shutting you right up, and that stopped you dead in your tracks. You stared up at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly, and were waiting for him to say something else or even backtrack, but that never came.

“Uh. Yes? I mean, yes, sure! I’d love to!” You stammered, certain you were wide-eyed and a flustered mess, not expecting him to be so straightforward, or, even say anything at all. Simon seemed a lot more composed than you, even if the way he blurted his question out made it seem like he could be slightly nervous. You doubted he ever got nervous, though.

“Great. Does this weekend work for you?”

Thinking back on your schedule, you remembered that no, it didn’t.

“I’m booked with work…But, the next one I should be free.” You hated how awkward you sounded.

He nodded, and took his phone out of his pocket to extend it for you, and you assumed he was asking for your number in the Ghost-est fashion possible. You unlocked it, noticing the lack of a password and the factory wallpaper, realizing it was probably a personal and barely used phone, punching your number in and saving the contact. As you returned the device to Simon, you found solace in realizing he probably felt as awkward as you did.

“I’ll see you in a fortnight, then.”

With a last nod of his head, he left, leaving you flustered, confused, but extremely giddy, and with a heart pounding against your ribcage.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Simon came back a week before he was supposed to.

As usual, you were closing up shop when he showed up, distractedly walking around the front room of the studio as you organized everything for the night, the sound of the heavy rain outside covering up the creaking of the glass door, so when you turned around, his presence startled you.

“Hi Simon! You’re early.” You chuckled once you recovered from your scare, but he didn’t match your energy. He was just standing there, stiff as a plank, and staring silently at you. Growing increasingly worried, you were about to ask if he was alright when he beat you to it.

“I’m leaving for a mission. And i’ll be gone for…some time.”

Your heart dropped, and you could only stare at his mask trying to process his words and find words, but ultimately settling on a quiet and disappointed oh. He finally approached you, and in less than a second he was standing towering over your figure, holding you in that familiar eye contact you’d grown to look forward to so much, even if you'd realized by his gaze that he seemed just as upset as you.

“Will you…be in danger?” It was a dumb question, but you couldn’t help yourself, everything you told yourself the days about moving slowly and waiting for your first date to decide how much you cared flying out the window as you openly worried for him for the first time. Ghost sighed, and suddenly you were hyper aware of how close you stood.

“I always am.”

Not breaking away from his intoxicating gaze, your words lowered to a whisper, a plea.

“Be careful. Please.”

The air stilled around you, thicker in tension that got worse with each passing millisecond, all of those feeling like hours. Simon’s height had never seemed so intimidating, and you never chastised yourself so much before for liking how his intense aura made you feel, something that increased tenfold once he boldly got even closer to you. Opening and closing your mouth like a fish, hoping something would come out eventually, you stilled upon feeling his gloved hands gingerly touching your face - dwarfing you in them - and you swore your heart was about to leap from your chest to your throat in a matter of seconds. His steely gaze flickered downwards briefly before returning to your eyes, asking for permission for something you didn’t even know quite right what it was, but that you’d give him regardless. The rough texture of his gloved left hand reached your now slightly parted lips as he traced the bottom of them with his thumb, moving his other hand to slowly lift up his balaclava just enough to expose his - unsurprisingly - sharp, stubbled jaw and full, lightly scarred lips. You barely had time to admire what you could see of him before his face was merely inches apart from yours, your breaths mingling together from both of your parted lips.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” He mumbled against you. A silent beg for you to stop him now, but you wouldn’t even dream of it.

“I don’t care.” You breathed back, voice barely above a whisper, and that seemed to break his resolve, as in the next moment he was leaning in and finally capturing your lips with his.

Kissing Simon Riley in real life was so much better than what you imagined. His height made it that he had to lean down an awkward amount to reach you and you actually had to stand a bit on your toes, but none of that mattered as you finally felt his lips move against yours, surprisingly slow and gentle for a man that looked like that, but you supposed he was always full of surprises. He moved his hands from your face to your waist, gripping with a little more force when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, encouraging him to kiss you harder - it would be a waste not to feel just how strong those huge arms of his could get wrapping around you. Groaning into your mouth, his touch soon became ravenous as he tasted you like a starved man, both of you now knowing it might as well be the last time you’d see each other, but you didn’t want to dwell too much on it, choosing instead to focus on the way he gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the counter as if you weighed nothing, getting even impossibly closer to your smaller frame, never breaking the kiss. You felt like you could stay wrapped up in his arms for hours, but at some point you had to part your lips, keeping your foreheads touching and looking at each other without saying another word.

He waited until you closed up and walked you to your car again; except, this time, as you watched his retreating figure from the rearview mirror, your chest felt constricted, the unsureness of if he’d ever come back alive clenching your throat in fear.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

The late june spring air smelled good, and you were in high spirits.

You hummed contently, cleaning with a paper towel wet with soapy water the last smudges on the inked skin, leaning back to admire your work. The black crow on his upper back turned out particularly good, and you found it amusing how its edgy nature went along well with the other tattoos already on his body. Spreading the hydrating vaseline to wrap the piece up took a little more than you’d take with other clients, since you were busy admiring and feeling up the strong, scarred back beneath your fingertips.

“All done!”

The man got up, admiring the crow in an awkward angle in front of the full body mirror, and you couldn’t help but keep staring at the muscular back and pecs that you could see from your position in your chair.

“Quit the ogling.”

His voice sounded gruffy, but slightly amused, which made you chuckle and get up, stopping by his side to lean against his huge arms and stare back at him through the mirror.

“Quit being hot, then.”

Simon rolled his eyes, but you knew he was smiling under the mask and possibly had the slightest red dusting his cheeks - since he was so pale, you’d always notice it when he had his mask off, and in turn, he’d always notice how you’d stare at his face with a smug smile. He looked over the tattoo once more before you wrapped it up, past the stage of giving him the instructions, all of them already second nature to him, considering it had been so many years he started getting tattooed by you.

“You know” You started as he followed you to the front door of the mostly empty studio, the only other sound being the tattoo machine of a single other coworker that was staying late in their own procedure room. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know I still got another client and it should take one or two hours more.”

Ghost huffed, turning to you with his hands on his jacket pockets, the height difference between you never failing to take all the air out of your lungs.

“Nonsense. He’s not supposed to be here for another half an hour, right? I’ll go grab us some dinner from that place you like and I’ll be right back. I’ll help you close up then we can go home.”

You shook your head with a giggle, watching as he came closer to you, and were about to protest more but he gave you a look that left no chance for you to be stubborn, shutting you right up. Taking one hand out of his pocket, Simon lifted his mask just enough for you to see his jaw - which you had already admired that morning while he was shaving - and his lips, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling him murmur just so you could hear it.

“See you in a minute, love.”

With that, he left, leaving you to watch fondly his retreating form from the glass door, as you chuckled dreamily one last time and went back to your procedure room.

#capy.writes #cod #cod mw22 #cod mwii #call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader

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totaly-obsessed · 5 months

Text

Questions

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Mary gets jealous of the Reader for getting all the glory after an outstanding game -> requested by @michellelawrence222 under a different story - I hope you like it!

-> Cursing

a/n: I'll try to catch up with requests next week - Uni is killing me rn.

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Playing on the same team as Mary, your fiancé, was the best scenario there was for you. Not only could you play with your partner – but your job was your childhood hobby. Your life was a literal dream.

And so was Mary – she was your dream, your future.

She always paid attention to you, valued you and your opinions, and helped you find your voice and ultimately yourself. She was an angel sent from heaven – a much-needed sign of peace for you and your chaotic life when you had met her all those years ago.

But a side not many people got to see from your girlfriend was her jealous one. The goalkeeper was usually the calm and organized one in your relationship, but when someone got just a little too close to you? All thoughts went out the window.

You found it quite cute. Yourself not ever able to imagine yourself with anyone else than her, not even able to pay attention or able to think of anyone else than her. But Mary, sweet Mary tended to get jealous or as she liked to call it ‘protective’.

It wasn’t intense or overbearing. She didn’t make you change clothes or stay home or any of that cliché stuff you see in the movies. Mary just liked to know that you were hers and that she was yours.

Whenever she got jealous her cheeks would turn red, her brows furrowed and her cheeks would puff up, desperately trying to calm herself down.

But that certain day was a little different, she was jealous of you, not someone who got too close to you. You.

As a striker who scored as often as possible, you were often in the spotlight – seen as a ‘savior of the club’ – while Mary was the unsung hero. She worked hard. Day and night to get better and to be the best goalkeeper in the WSL. But the recognition got lost somewhere you could not understand – your fiancés's biggest fan.

On that unfortunate day, you had scored two goals in the second half after Nikita Parris had scored in the first, while Mary had scraped every ball off her own goal line, making this one of the best games of the season for Manchester United.

Yet the applause for Mary’s efforts fell short, all eyes on you and Nikita. Your fiancé had enough. How come she did everything she could to keep the score zero on their side, but no one cared? If she had let all those shots on goal in, this would be a very different situation and she would have been heckled by fans and critics alike.

After the game you were on a winning high, like everyone else on your team – it was a great game. But Mary was scowling in a corner, not even looking at you. Meanwhile, every interviewer there wanted to speak to you and you did your best to talk to each and everyone.

Once you finally entered the dressing room it was mostly empty, aside from your fiancé who looked busy sorting through her bag. “Hey, baby. You did so well! I’ll shower real quick and then we can go, hmm?” You pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, a little weirded out by her jerking her head in the other direction, and letting out a grunt.

The drive home was tense. You had hurried so much that your hair was still wet and you were missing your socks, trying not to make Mary wait any longer – you thought she was annoyed with you because you took so long doing the interviews.

Her left hand which usually found its home on your thigh was clutching the gear stick. The silence was swallowing you whole at this point – and it felt like shit.

At home she stomped into the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, you did your best to cook up a decent meal out of the stuff you had left in your cabinets – it eventually came down to a pasta dish.

But Mary didn’t make her way down, while you waited patiently on the couch, your partner's favorite show already lined up on the TV.

You had already called out for her, texted her, and knocked at the bathroom door – but she never made her way out to you. Tears brimmed your eyes as you sat the meal in silence in the harsh kitchen light. The usual setting of the couch made it clear that something was wrong – so you avoided it.

Maybe she just needed to wind down by herself, just some alone time?

But after three hours and falling asleep on the couch twice, you decided to head up to bed, packing Mary’s dinner portion into a Tupperware box in the fridge.

The bathroom door was now open and the lights were shut off. At least she had left the room.

The blonde was already in bed, a book in her cramping hands as she ignored your presence. “Mary?” She didn’t even look up. “I left your dinner in the fridge. Do you want me to heat it up for you? I can bring it up and you can eat in bed if you would like?”

She still eyed the book, aggressively turning the page which nearly teared under the force she had used.

It felt like walking on eggshells as you got ready for bed – leaving the bathroom door slightly open, scared that she would just vanish from the bed. The silence nearly drove you mad as Mary’s tense jaw shifted from one side to the other.

Eventually, you sat down on your side of the bed, feet still on the ground as you had your back to your fiancé. Your hands fidgeted nervously. Had you done something wrong? Why was she so mad at you?

“You really put in a shift tonight baby, you did so well.” The scoff that left the goalkeeper's mouth was immediate. You could not really understand why – she really did play great tonight and while she was her own harshest critic, she usually knew when she did well. “No, you really did! That dive you made-“

“Will you just shut up?” Oh. So, you really were the problem here – good to know.

You nearly wanted to vomit with how sick to your stomach you felt but if you being quiet made her happy, you would be quiet. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you slid off your slippers, finally getting into bed, your back still turned to the love of your life.

Mary however didn’t care – in fact, she rolled her eyes at you. “Do you want praise for shutting up as well?” Her voice was cutting and you nearly didn’t recognize her. Gone were her soft eyes and lingering touches, instead you could feel a hate-filled stare hit your back as you remained quiet – sobbing into a pillow.

“Give me a second and I’ll post it for you: ‘Star striker good at staying quiet – she deserves a fucking Oscar’ Maybe if you beg you will finally earn a trophy instead of praise.”

Who was this person in your bed?

“I don’t understand what’s happening Mary. How c-“ The blonde started laughing like a maniac. Maybe she was just tired from the game and the stress. “Of course, you don’t fucking see what is wrong! Too busy bathing in the glory while I do all the goddamn dirty work!”

Mary had gotten out of bed, pacing up and down the open floor, pulling at her hair while mumbling to herself. “What if I hadn’t been there, huh?” she was shouting now, angrily gesturing through the air “Who would have stopped them from coming? No matter how many goals ya would have scored, still would have lost without me.”

You flinched as your cold feet hit the ground but your cheeks were still hot in anger, the tears on them nearly evaporating. “Where are you going now?” Mary looked well and truly out of her mind, crying as well. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch. Maybe you should just go to sleep and calm down. Drink some water as well, huh? I love you – good night.”

Your voice was curt as you pressed a short kiss to her cheek, tasting the salt of mixed tears. But you left your fiancé no place to argue as you left the room while she could just stare after you.

The couch was comfortable enough to spend a night as you desperately hoped that she would just come to her senses overnight. It felt like someone had body-switched the woman you loved so much, for someone really mean.

But Mary couldn’t sleep, lying awake in your usually shared bed, clutching your pillow to her chest – what had gotten into her? How were you to blame for the people not recognizing her efforts and work? You were the first to congratulate her on everything, always making sure to mention her in post-match interviews.

If there was anyone at fault it certainly was not you.

Fuck.

You could hear her trudging down the stairs before you could see her, as she stood still behind the couch, nearly standing like a ghost in the kitchen. “You wanna say something?” The nervous gulp showed you that the goalkeeper didn’t expect you to still be awake.

“I’m sorry – I fucked up.”

A sigh so deep that it nearly knocked out the rest of the air in your lugs, left your lips as you sat up again – your head would surely kill you, as a headache already forming from all the crying. Mary sat down on the spot that you had cleared for her.

“Say it again, to my face and tell me what has gotten into you.”

Gone was the scared woman from the bedroom, you’ve had enough. If she wanted to behave like a child you would treat her like one. Mary took your hands into hers, shocked at how cold they were. Her eyes met yours in an ashamed gaze, looking up through her lashes.

“I am sorry for treating you the way I did. I was angry that you had gotten all the glory after the game – but that wasn’t your choice and I shouldn’t have come at you because of it.”

Even in the dark Livingroom, you could see the frustrated tears making their way down her cheeks, wetting your hand as she pressed a kiss to it.

“I accept your apology, Mary.” She could finally breathe, pulling you closer to her and giving you the first of many kisses.

“Pull something like that again and I will kill you.”

You would always be her number one fan, and maybe you just needed to show her that bit more, tell her after more games how well she did – talk about her in more interviews because no matter how frustrating life could be – she was the answer to all your questions.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps #man united wfc x reader

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greynatomy · 5 months

Text

bigger than the whole sky

alessia russo x reader

based on this request.

been writing this for a while. my longest fic yet. i cried so much writing it.

thank you anon for the request, one of my favorites.

i also just reached 1k followers! thank you all for following and reading everything i’ve put out. i started writing for female celebrities then got into woso. i never knew people would read what i would put out, but i was wrong. i appreciate every single one of you who like, reblog, follow, or just read.

again, thank you! enjoy this angst!

———

In her twenty-four years on this earth, Alessia Russo can count every single event, party, or celebration she’s been to. Whether that be a birthday party, after party, or a simple get together. But the event she’s at right now is not something she ever saw herself attending for a very long time.

———

Walking to the field in her first day of practice at UNC. She didn’t know anyone and was a little shy, but you were the first person to introduce yourself to her.

During both of your time at UNC, you were inseparable. No one would see one of you without the other, so it was not shock at all when you got together a year after meeting.

~~~

“Hey! Alessia!” You get her attention, catching up to her.

“Hey, Y/n.”

“Uh, I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me tonight? Only if you’re up for it and aren’t busy.”

Alessia’s smile could not get any bigger.

“I would love to.” She kisses your cheek, walking away. “Text me the details.”

You stand frozen in your spot. You hand coming up to your face, fingers brushing where her lips touched.

A few hours later, you were standing outside of Alessia’s front door, flowers in hand. You go to raise your hand to knock, but it opens before you have a chance to.

“Woah.” You we’re speechless. Alessia was wearing a black dress, with a slit at the right leg and red bottom heels. You were in a simple black dress pants, white dress shirt with a couple buttons undone and dress shoes. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” She gives you her million dollar smile. “And you look very attractive.”

“Ready to go?”

“Yup. Let me just lock up.”

Opening the passenger door for her, she gets in, giving you a kiss on the cheek before you close it. You run to the driver side and get in. You put the car in drive and go on your way to your destination.

Alessia notices your fingers fiddling with the gear shift so she becomes very bold and grabs your hand to intertwine them, settling them in her lap.

The date went along perfectly. You talked about anything and everything, catching up on things that happened recently. Driving back home in a comfortable silence, smiles on both your faces.

You walk her to her front door, saying how you had a great time hoping to go on a second date and more after that, her agreeing. After a couple seconds of silence, you feel very confident and place your hands gently on her cheeks.

“May I?” You ask.

Alessia just nods, bringing her face closer to yours and closes the gap, lips molding together in a quick but passionate kiss. Pulling away she bites her bottom lip.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kisses your cheek, hurrying into her door.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” In a trance, you slowly walk back to your car with the biggest smile on your face, doing a happy dance not aware that Alessia was watching you through the window, laughing.

———

Walking around the living room, she can’t help but tear up. All the memories you made coming back to her. All that you accomplished together. She was glad to be able to play with you and start on your professional football careers together on the same team for Manchester United.

~~~

“I thought lesbians were supposed to be good at building and stuff.”

You and Alessia are in the process of moving into your new apartment in Manchester after being signed by United together.

“That’s very stereotypical of you Less.”

“I’m just saying.” She shrugs, biting back a smile.

“Would you like to help me then?”

“Nah. I think you’ve got it all figured out.”

~~~

“You’ll do great.”

“Same with you.”

~~~

“Making their debut today, Y/N Y/LN and Alessia Russo, an unstoppable duo from the University of North Carolina, subs into the game.”

~~~

“Another goal for Alessia Russo from the assist from Y/N Y/LN. The duo showing us exactly what they’re made of!”

~~~

Years later, you’ve both just signed a deal with Arsenal. The club not wanting to separate the dynamic duo the two of you became known for.

———

She makes it up to your shared bedroom, not having been since that day, opting to sleep in the guest room. Taking a deep breath, she twists the door knob, opening the door.

Everything was how it was left two weeks ago. Nothing being changed. Eyes scan the room, landing on your bedside table. A picture sat on top, one of Alessia’s favorites. Hands trembling, she delicately picks it up, thumb running over your face.

———

Walking along the water, footprints remain behind them on the sand. Hands intertwined, occasionally swinging between the two.

“You ready for tomorrow?” You ask softly, not wanting to disrupt the calm atmosphere.

“Nervous, but it’s the world cup final.”

“That’s to be expected then.”

“Come here. I wanna take a picture.”

Holding her arm out, phone in hand, you place your head next to hers into frame. She turns her head, placing a kiss on your cheek.

Later that night, she goes through the photos as you slept. Seeing as they were live photos, she watches them. She didn’t notice at the time, but after kissing your cheek, you look at her with the look all her friends told her about.

Like she hung all the stars in the sky.

———

Alessia felt numb. All of the emotions she could feel are bottled up inside her. She thought of the last moment she spent with you, still not able to wrap her head around it all.

———

You and Alessia make you way to the garage. You open the driver side door for her, letting her get in. You close the door, she rolls the window down. You lean down, resting your arms on the door, head sticking in the car.

“Now, you be careful getting to training. It’s our first one with the team.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you soon.”

She leans up giving you a kiss. When she pulls away, you hold the back of her head to pull her back in, kissing her a bit longer.

“Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you more. See you in a bit.”

She watched you put your helmet on, swinging a leg over your motorcycle, driving off, giving her a little wave.

Alessia arrives to training first, waiting for you at the car park. When you didn’t arrive in a couple minutes, she went ahead inside.

“Hey! Where’s your missus?”

———

The door opening snaps Alessia out of her trance. Looking up, she sees her parents and your mom. She wipes her tears hastily, sniffling a bit.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Mum.”

The three parents look at each other, not knowing how to start. Alessia’s dad eventually sit next to her daughter on the bed.

“We need to tell you something.”

———

You knock on the front door, it quickly opening to reveal Alessia’s mom, Carol.

“Y/N! What a lovely surprise!”

“Hi, Carol.” You greet, returning her embrace. “Is Mario home? I need to talk to the both of you.”

She leads you through the house to where her husband was sitting on the couch.

“Hey, kid.”

“Sup, pops.”

“Y/N said she needs to talk to us.”

“Oh? What about?”

Taking a seat in between the married couple, you reach into your pants pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. You hear a gasp that came from Carol.

“Oh, honey.”

“I-I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready, been ready, to take the next step into my relationship with your daughter. Alessia is… she’s the love of my life and I hope you’d give me your blessing to do so.”

A strong hand finds itself on your shoulder, pulling you close.

“Kid. You’ve had our blessing since the day we met you.”

“There’s no one better for our Alessia than you.”

———

Your mom holds out her hand, a small velvet box sitting it it.

“She told me to hold onto it.”

Alessia let out a quiet sob, sliding off the bed, kneeling over onto the floor. Her mom follows, wrapping her arms around her daughter.

“She loved you so much.”

———

“Is this Alessia Russo?”

Alessia got a call minutes after walking into the locker room. An unknown number.

“This is she.”

“You are the emergency contact for Y/N Y/LN. How fast can you get to London Medical?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Alessia’s heart is racing, the unknowing of why she would be called as your emergency contact. She packs her things as quickly as possible, hands shaking.

“Woah. Where are you going? You just got here.” Katie questioned, seeing her stuffing her training bag.

“Uh, Y-Y/LN hos-hospital.” She stutters.

Katie realized how serious the situation is, grabbing her things for her.

“C’mon. I’ll drive. Which hospital?”

“Lon-London Med-Medical.”

“Okay. Get in the car.”

The two run towards Alessia’s car, giving her keys to Katie. After a twenty minute drive, they get to the hospital. Running to the emergency room, she goes straight to the nurse’s area.

“Y/N Y/LN. My-my girlfriend. I got a call.”

“Alessia Russo?” She nods. “I’m Kerry. I called you. If you can sit in the waiting room, I’ll have a doctor come out and talk to you.”

Not even a minute later, a man dressed in scrubs walk up to the two footballers.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Hill. This is Officer Randall. You’re here for Y/N YLN?”

“Yeah. What happened.”

“We got a call for a crash. Witnesses say it was head on. Driver was drunk and is in our custody.” The officer answers.

“What about my girlfriend? What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s in surgery right now, we’re trying to repair her broken leg, ribs, arm, but what we’re most worried about is her head. She was wearing a helmet, which is good, but with how the driver hit her, we’re unsure how she’d heal. We’ll let you know more when we’re done. Now if you’d excuse me.” With that, the doctor heads back through the double doors.

———

“Earlier this month, Arsenal signed women football’s dynamic duo, Alessia Russo and Y/N Y/LN. We’ve seen what they’ve done at the University of North Carolina, Manchester United and we’ve been excited to see what they could bring here at Emirates Stadium.

Two weeks ago, Y/LN was struck by a drunk driver and unfortunately passed away. Let’s all take a moment of silence.”

Alessia is trying hard not to break down in front of everyone. She’s done that plenty enough.

“To the families of Y/N, we are with you. Alessia Russo, we stand by you. Y/N Y/LN. You are loved. You are missed. Rest easy.”

———

It’s been four days since the accident. There’s been no change in your overall health and brain activity. Doctors have told Alessia that there’s a low chance of you ever waking up.

“Ms. Russo.” Doctor Hill knocks on the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah?”

“We’ve gone through her file and you make all of Y/N’s medical decisions now. When we need to do something, you’re the one to make the decision.”

“What about her mom? I thought that only if you’re married, you’re the next in line or something?”

“She listed you as her power of attorney. She trusts that you make the choice for her. Ones that she can’t.”

“What do I do now? Is there still a chance for her?”

The look on the doctor’s face says otherwise.

~~~

After talking to your mom, her parents, she’s now back in your hospital room. She never thought she’d see you like this, lifeless on a bed, wrapped in bandages, wires poking and prodding all over.

“Hey, baby.” She sniffles. “Um. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here. Uh, it’s really all up to you now.” She grabs your hand, mindful of the wires and needles. “If-uh-if you feel like you can’t go on, I pro-I promise you that I’ll be fine. I can look after your mum.”

Alessia gets up from her seat, walking to the corner, bottom lip trembling, holding in a cry. Holding herself together, she goes back to where you lay.

“I don’t want you to fight for me anymore, to-to suffer and longer. If…if you need to let go, you can. Just know that I love you. As much as I want you to wake up, and see what we could’ve been, what should’ve been, I-I let you go.”

She watches your chest rise up and down, the movement slowing down. The beeping from the monitor slows, ending in a long beep. Flatline.

You were gone.

Nurses rush into the room to try and revive you, but Alessia waves them off, not wanting you to go through anymore difficulty. She let you pass peacefully.

———

“A hat trick for Alessia Russo on her Arsenal debut! What a player!”

Alessia couldn’t hold it in anymore. She collapses onto the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her teammates surround her, Lotte gets to her first, embracing her in a tight hug. Lotte had become your best friend at UNC, so it was difficult for her too.

With Arsenal winning the game, Lotte and Alessia were asked to do a postgame interview.

“We’re now here with Alessia Russo and Lotte Wubben-Moy. What an amazing performance from the both of you. Alessia a hat trick and Lotte who assisted them all. What was going through your head?”

“Uh, well, it’s the first game of the season and there was supposed to be one more here from the UNC squad, but unfortunately she isn’t. I played for her. Y/N is-was my best friend.”

“Alessia?”

“Uh, yeah. We all started our football journey together back at UNC and supposed to be back together again, the three of us, so I just played for her. She always believed in me and was by my side, following to all the way to Manchester and now to London. So I-uh-the whole team really just played for Y/N.”

———

Walking down the path, flowers in hand, Alessia stops in front of headstone. She takes the old flowers out of the built in pot and replaces them with the new.

She takes a blanket out of her bag and lays it out in front, sitting on it. She reads the stone, for what felt like a hundred times.

Y/N Y/LN

Daughter • Footballer • Wife

you are bigger than the whole sky

Even though the two of you never got married, your mom and Alessia decided to call you a ‘wife’. It just wasn’t official on paper and it would’ve happened anyway. She now wears the ring you never got to give her on a chain hung around her neck, to keep you close to her heart.

“Hey, baby. Uh, played my first game as a Gunner. Scored a hat trick just for you. Pretty sure you were watching down on me, helping me get those goals in.” She wipes a fallen tear. “Wished you would’ve been down at the pitch with me, but, uh, yeah. I don't know what else to say. You’re usually saying something back. I’ll see you again soon.” She kisses her fingers and placing them overtop of your name. “Ti amo amore mio.”

At twenty-four, she didn’t think she’d have to say goodbye, but here she was, walking out of the cemetery, leaving you behind.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #greynatomy 1k #alessia russo angst #engwnt x reader #woso fanfics #engwnt

556 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 25 days

Text

You Snooze, You Lose

John Stones x Reader

Warnings: childhood friends, losing touch, all the boys are so annoying, John is lowkey butthurt, a lot of assuming is happening, mentions of kidnapping, so many emotions, unspoken feelings and regrets, kyle is chief meddler, a little sexual humour, some friendly teasing, jack's love of gucci, divorce, alcohol and the consumption of.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Note: this is sooo self indulgent, shout out to pookie who helped me plot this <3 @themandaloriansdiaries

---

Childhood friends; a story as old as time..

Everyone knows how it ends, it either works out or it doesn't. You stay friends forever and live happily ever after or you love and you lose, you move on and they stay a chapter in the story of your life.

That's what John Stones was for you.

Your best friend from the age of 9 until you turned 19. The boy across the street, the one that walked you to school, the one you joined at practice, cheering him on from the stands at games.

While you had been focused on making it through school, John's interests were elsewhere. Football was all he thought of, a ball by his feet 24/7. He joined his boyhood club, Barnsley, and worked his way up until he signed for them in 2011. You still remember his debut, the sense of pride and joy you felt was incomparable to anything else in your life.

After a year of playing for the first team at Barnsley, he was off to Everton. John moved, of course, making it easier for him to be with the team. He still returned home but you saw less and less of each other.

By the time he was 22, he was signed to Manchester City and that was the end of the two of you, or rather whatever was left of your friendship.

Granted you were very proud of him and all he achieved, but it still hurt you to lose your best friend. It wasn't 22 year old y/n that was losing her best friend but 9 year old y/n who used to sit in the stands and watch him practice for hours on end.

There wasn't much you saw of John after that. Maybe a hello in passing if you saw him when he returned home to see his family but it became less and less frequent, until all you had left was seeing his face on tv.

8 years, that's how long it's been since you've seen John. Time flies when you've both moved on with your lives.

You find yourself in Manchester, rainy and grey as always but a familiar feeling of coldness reminds you of home.

The jewellers assured you that your ring would be ready in a week and you'd be back then to pick it up. Half past 3 and you've got time until you need to head to the station to get your train home so what better way to spend the time then to shop?

You find your way through the busy streets and into the shops, picking out a few odds and ends for the house, shopping basket on your arm as you make your way through the store.

A text had your focus, trying to keep in your corner as you walked and texted at the same time. You hadn't even noticed as you were walking straight into someone until you hit them. It felt as if you walked into a brick wall, the person was solid to say the least.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you say to the person, bending down to pick up your phone before they turn to see who's walked into them.

"Watch where you're going- y/n?" The voice sounds familiar, you think to yourself. How did they know your name?

You look up as you stand up, it takes you only a second to realize who's in front of you. "Johnny," you smiled, the nickname rolling off your tongue as it did many years ago.

"How are you?" The man asks, pulling you into a hug. You felt yourself relax, the feeling of his arms around you reminded you of home in the best way possible.

You take a step back, "I'm good, how are you?"

"Can't complain," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling under the horrendous fluorescent lights. "What brings you all the way to Manchester?"

"You say that as if Manchester is in a whole other part of the planet," you laughed. "But I came to the jewellers to get my ring fixed and I had some time before my train so I decided to do some shopping."

John nods, glancing at his watch. "It's half 5 now, most of the trains are gone by now, no?"

Your eyes widened a bit, "you're joking." Checking your own phone to see he was in fact right, it was half 5 and the last train to Barnsley just left. "Oh shit."

"How are you gonna get home then?" He asks and you shrug. "I'll probably take an Uber."

"No," he shakes his head. "I can't let you do that. I'll take you home."

It's your turn to shake your head. "Well I can't let you do that."

"Why not?" His brows furrowed, making you smile. "You've probably got things to do, big footballer like yourself." You joked.

John rolled his eyes playfully. "Shut up. It's fine. I'll take you home, I can't let you take an Uber, you're too pretty. What if the Uber driver decides to kidnap you? I won't forgive myself, you know."

You can't help but laugh, obnoxiously loud as well. Your hand covers your mouth, giggling behind it as you often did as a child. The action brings back fond memories for John. He smiles at you, his heart warm and fuzzy in his chest.

"What if you tried to kidnap me? I haven't seen you in years, I don't know what you do in your spare time now."

He chuckles, crossing over his heart with his finger. "I promise I'm not a kidnapper, you can call my mum and confirm."

"Fine," you tell him. "You're certain I'm not putting you out by accepting?"

"100 percent," he takes your basket from you, putting it into his shopping cart, pushing it down the aisle as you follow him. "I didn't even ask, where do you live?"

"Barnsley."

John stops and turns around to look at you. "Seriously? You never moved?"

"I mean I don't live in my parents' house anymore but yes, seriously." You laughed, nudging his jaw back around so he can watch where he's going.

The two of you cash out, John insists on paying for your stuff even though you tell him it's fine. He says okay but then removes the little separator between your stuff and his, putting it together without you noticing. You roll your eyes at his childishness, thanking him regardless. Ever the gentleman, leading you back to the car and carrying the bags before opening the door for you.

Certainly his car is worth more than your house but you got in, sitting quietly as he drove towards Barnsley.

The music plays in the background as he drives. "How come you never moved? From Barnsley?"

"It's home," you tell him, "plus not all of us become big footballers that can afford mega mansions."

John laughs, glancing over at you to see the smile on your face. "Speaking of footballers, I saw your last game. You were good."

"Just good?" he teased and you nod. "Mhm hm. You know me, I've always been more of a Liverpool girl."

"Ew," he makes a face, you can't help but laugh; something you did often in his presence. The short time you two had been back together made you feel like a child again.

Sometimes you still couldn't wrap your head around it. John, your John, the little blond boy from across the street was a professional footballer, and a damn good one at that. Playing for a treble winning team and for England, John was living his childhood dream and you couldn't be more proud of your best friend.

If you could even call him that anymore.

It was a short drive once he got off the exit, you directed him to your place. You lived 10 minutes away from your parents, you two used to walk these streets as kids, it was home after all.

John pulled into the driveway, his car looking out of place compared to the neighbourhood but he got out, taking your bags out of the trunk for you.

There's a man coming out of the house, putting his coat on and fishing his car keys out of his pocket as you get out of John's car. "Thank you for preventing my maybe kidnapping," you tell John, taking the bags from him.

He glances at the man and then back to you. "Yeah," he smiles, "anytime." He reaches for his phone, handing it to you. "Give me your number, so we can stay in touch."

You put your number in, telling him to text you so you could save his number. "Don't be a stranger," you say as he pulls you into a hug. "Even footballers have friends."

John laughs, a big smile on his face. "I know, I promise to text."

"Thank you again, for everything."

"Anything for an old friend."

You smile, "bye Johnny."

"Bye y/n."

John gets back into his car, watching as you walk up the driveway to the man who was by the front door. He doesn't pull off, but instead watches the interaction between the two of you. The man on the porch kisses your cheek before walking down to the driveway.

It takes John a moment to connect the dots; the ring at the jewellers, the house that looked like it was a happy home, the man on the porch, the kiss on the cheek.

You were married.

John's heart feels like it's been broken again, in a whirlwind of emotions; disbelief, regret, and a sense of longing. The realization stings of missed opportunities and unspoken words. Every laugh shared, every whisper, every stolen glance filled with love, every memory cherished now carried a bittersweet feeling.

The knowledge that he never confessed his love. It was unknown to you but John had always thought of you as his.

You were his y/n, his best friend, his girl.

No matter how much he tried to move on, despite the two of you never being more than friends, there was no woman compared to you. That's a horrible way to live, he can hear Kyle's words in his head, his teammate telling him he's got to get on with his life.

But how could he move on knowing you were still out there? All but a phone call away and yet he never reached out. He moved on with his life, achieving all he hoped, all but one thing.

He moved on and so did you. No one's to blame but himself.

Kyle finds his teammate picking at his lunch, pushing the pieces of chicken around his plate with the fork. "Didn't your mum teach you it's rude to play with your food?" He says, glancing at the younger player.

John rolls his eyes in response. "Oh, we're moody today." Kyle takes a sip of his juice. "What's going on?"

"I saw y/n last week." John mumbles, staring at his half eaten lunch.

Kyle nearly spits out his juice and hits John in the face. "Y/n? As in.. your y/n?"

"Bumped into her at the store and took her home."

"What's the issue, mate? You took her home and what? The sex was that bad? I guess years of pining will do that to a guy."

"Shut up," John groans at his friend's crudeness. "We didn't have sex, you jackass. She's married."

"Oh," Kyle makes a face, and it's as if John can see the gears turning in his friend's head. He knows whatever is to come out of Kyle's mouth next is going to be ridiculous.

"Well, do you want me to beat up her husband? You can run in and save him, you'll look like the hero and she'll fall in love with you and leave her husband."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life," John chuckles, "but no."

Kyle shrugs, taking a piece of chicken off of John's plate and eats it. "I offered a solution and you don't want it. You can't beat yourself up over her being married. You snooze, you lose, Johnny boy."

"Have I ever told you how unhelpful you are?"

"All the time," Kyle smiles. John's phone buzzes on the table, the man glances over to see who it is. "Who is it? Is it her?" Kyle asks, sticking his head over to see who texted John.

He pushes Kyle's head away and reads the message.

To John: Hi Johnny, you're invited to dinner on Sunday.

To John: Well I'm inviting you now. Sunday at mine at 6pm, or anytime after that? Does that work for you?

"Say yes," Kyle tells him before he can even think what to reply. John shakes his head, "I don't want to have dinner with her and her husband."

"What if I beat him-" "Shut up, that's not an option."

Kyle rolls his eyes, taking the phone from John and replying before he could stop him.

From John: Hi y/n, thank you for the invite, 6 works great for me. Can I bring anything?

"What did you do?" John tries to get his phone back from Kyle but he runs over to the other table where Jack and Erling were sitting.

To John: Just your pretty face ;)

"Why would you do that, you idiot?" John smacks Kyle's arm, taking his phone back. "This is going to be the most awkward dinner of my life."

Jack turns to see John and Kyle fighting. "What's going on?"

"Johnny boy's got dinner with a married woman." Kyle says, telling everyone John's business. Erling makes a face. "A married woman? Is that like.. a kink for you?"

"No!" John groans, putting his phone into his pocket. "She's a friend that happens to be married. It's not what Kyle made it seem like." He glares at his friend, Kyle shrugs.

Jack asks the important question. "What are you going to wear? Do you want to borrow one of my Gucci shirts?"

"I'd rather not look ugly," John says, making Jack roll his eyes. "Opposed to.. you looking like yourself? So just double ugly?"

He huffs, "I'll wear something I have. It's only dinner."

"If you say so," Jack makes a face, clearly disapproving of John's fashion choices.

John grumbles as he walks off, "I hate all of you."

The days pass and John finds himself at your front door, heart beating out of his chest with nerves. He didn't want to have dinner with you and your husband. He wanted to turn back, to get into his car and leave.

He can't.

John's done scarier things, he's played matches that sent him into a spiral and yet, he's alive and well. One evening won't kill him.

It'll be in and out; dinner, small talk and then he'll leave with the excuse of an early training session.

He knocks, his palms sweaty. They take turns holding the bottle of wine as he wipes his palms on his jeans. The door opens, you're standing there with your hair over your shoulders and a big smile on your face.

"You made it," you stepped aside, "come in."

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he says as he walks in, noticing your bare feet he takes his shoes off. "I had a match and then we had the debrief and then I went home to shower, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic."

"Don't even worry about it," you tell him, shutting the door. John passes the bottle of wine over to you, "for you."

"I told you, you didn't need to fuss and bring anything." You accept the bottle with a smile regardless.

"It's no trouble, plus it's rude to show up empty handed." He says, watching as you walk to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home," you called out to him and John took that as his sign to poke around a bit.

He sticks his head into the living room, no sign of the husband. It's warm, homely. A couch against the back wall, tv by the window, fireplace along another wall. You've got photo frames hanging, some as decorations, some with actual photos.

There are three photos hung on the wall in the hallway, he stops to admire them. The middle frame had a little boy holding a baby wrapped up in a lavender blanket and the other two were what seemed to be school photos. The boy on the left and the girl on the right.

You peek out of the kitchen to see John looking at the photos. "Cute kids," he says. "Yours?"

Shrugging, you walk over to him. "Bought the house and they were on the wall, it seemed wrong to take them down."

"Oh," he makes a face, unsure what to say and you laugh, resting your hand on his bicep. "I'm kidding, they're mine. This is Sebastian," you point to your son and then your daughter. "This is Sophia."

"They're cute, they look like you."

"Genes are strong, Stonesy. Just like yours." You say, making him laugh. He nods as he knows what you meant. He and his sister were the same person, different genders.

"How old are they?" John asks while he follows you into the kitchen.

"Seb is 7 and Soph is 4."

"It's quiet, you'd think it'd be loud with little ones. Are they not home?"

"No," you handed him a glass of wine. "They're at their dad's for the weekend."

"Oh," John says, taking a sip of his wine. "You're not married?"

You make a face, one of disgust rather as you turned to your friend. "God no, ew. Why would you think that?"

John laughs at your face. "I just thought.. you said you had to get your ring fixed so I assumed your wedding ring."

"It's my blue one, the one you gave me for my birthday before you left for Everton." You tell him, checking on the roast in the oven.

John thinks back, he did gift you a ring for your 18th birthday, it was a few months before he signed for Everton. He thought it'd be a nice thing to give you, 18 was a big birthday plus he was officially making big boy money, not as much as he made now, but more than enough that he could afford to buy his best friend a nice gift for her birthday.

"I can't believe you still have that."

"Well I thought about pawning it off but the guy said he'd only give two pounds, so I figured I'd keep it. Sentimental value or something like that." You joked, John rolled his eyes at your words playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Is there anything I can help with? I feel bad sitting around."

"Take the roast out of the oven? The pan is unnecessarily heavy." You set the plates on the table and John looks at you while walking to the oven. "You made a roast?"

"Well it's Sunday, isn't it?"

John nods, "it is. I haven't had a proper one in years, like actually sitting at the table and eating it. It's always left overs from mum because I had other stuff to do."

"It's so depressing," you chuckled. "Wait, I didn't even ask, can you eat this? Aren't you on some super footballer diet or something?"

"It's fine," he tells you, carrying the pan to the table. "One night won't kill me."

Dinner was quiet, the two of you chatted and caught up on as much as you can about the last 8 years. You talked about family, yours and his, he told you stories of his teammates and shared little memories he cherished from your childhood, you told him about your kids and how they drive you mad everyday.

It was nice, it was the grown up version of eating Chinese take out at 3am in the kitchen as teens.

You find yourself on the couch, each of you with a glass of wine and the almost empty bottle on the coffee table.

"I wonder, since you thought I was married, are you hiding a relationship?" You asked, finishing off your glass before setting it on the table. "Am I going to see myself in a headline somewhere? John Stones spotted cheating on wife with mystery woman." You both laughed at the made up headline.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm single, no need to worry." He mirrored your action and set the empty glass on the table before leaning back into the couch. "But if I can ask, what happened between you and your.. husband? Were you married ?"

"I was," you nodded. "We thought we could make it work but between work and the kids, we have no time for each other and we were miserable, even when we were together. It wasn't good for us nor was it good for the kids. So instead of the kids having one unhappy home, we decided to call it quits and let them have two happy homes."

"That's very mature of you both."

"I'd like to think so." You smiled. "What about you? How come you're single? You're young and handsome and talented."

"You think I'm handsome?" He raised an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, laughing as you smack his arm lightly. "Shut up, you know what I meant."

"Well, I never moved on.. from someone in the past."

"Oh.. someone broke your heart?" You shifted to face him fully. "Tell me everything."

John smiles, some things never change. "Sorta, I mean, not really. It was a long time ago and when I left home, I left her behind and I regret that. I shouldn't have left like that, we should have figured something out. I should have reached out but I didn't. I think I wasn't sure how to, so I never did.''

You nod, thinking. You understood what he meant but you were trying to figure out who he was talking about so you started naming off the girls he used to see while he was living in Barnsley and Liverpool.

"It's none of them," he says, smiling at your effort.

"So who is it?" You asked, brows furrowed. "I know all your exes."

John smiles at you, the twinkle in his eyes as he looked at you was a dead give away, and it hits you like a freight train. "It's.. me?" You look at him, your cheeks bright red when he nods.

It reminds him of when you two were younger, the two of you giggling until you're out of breath and red in the face.

"So pretty," he whispers, going to pinch your cheek. "Shut up," you mumble, swatting his hand away. John smiles, hand cupping your cheek.

A hand wraps around his wrist, the two of you looking at each other. In that moment, years of unspoken words hung in the air. Without a single word said, they both knew what the other was feeling - a feeling that had been buried deep within you both for so long.

With a soft smile, John leaned in, closing the gap between you. Your lips met in a kiss, pulling you into him. As they sat on the couch, still intertwined, John and y/n felt a sense of peace wash over them.

It was as if the weight of years of unspoken emotions had finally been lifted off their shoulders.

John's forehead pressed to yours, "do you know how long I've been waiting to do that?"

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to do that?" You giggled, kissing him once more.

tags: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @mehrmonga @callsignvenus @kmc1989 @ironmaiden1313 @muglermami

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callofdudes · 1 year

Note

I would love to see a prompt of a Childhood friend Reader reuniting with Alejandro, Soap, Ghost, and König. The Reader recognized them before the boys recognized the Reader. So, the Reader, nervous as all heck, tries to start conversation a little bit before they hit them with “You know…you remind me of a friend I had” and would drop details only they would know, until the boys recognize the reader. That’s when the reader smiles and says “it’s been a while, huh?” And they all hug and have a good time properly catching up.

(I’m a sucker for happy endings you see)

Aww 🥰 this is cute. Thank you for stopping by! These might be kind of long. (Also I'm sorry for this taking so long I go so stuck on König and Alejandro 🥲)

Reconnecting with the boys.

Ghost:

You and Ghost had signed up together. That's always how it was. You'd met Ghost in elementary and decided you were going to befriend the quiet kid. When the two of you got older Simon would talk about joining the military to get away from his family, and you wholeheartedly jumped in with him. You unfortunately retired due to personal reasons before you could be enlisted as a Captain. You had settled down in Britain running a small coffee shop with your friend.

The quiet life was nothing like the battlefield and you honestly missed the adrenaline you used to get from the adventures. You would smile fondly when you remembered the days. Captain Price, Ghost, all of them. You'd met Captain Price but were never recruited into 141.

And after a couple years Simon was no longer able to send messages to you with his recruit to 141 and his busy schedule as a Lieutenant. You had always assumed he either died or was busy considering Simon Riley was considered dead. But it wasn't the most obscure thing for people in the military to bury their names under secrets and cold dirt. Simon had always been known as a ghost. Ironically. Someone who was in an out and if you saw him, you'd be dead. You chuckled. What a thought. You missed him and your little adventures.

It was a quiet day in the shop when your world was flipped again and yet another twist was added to your life. You were wiping down the counters during the settled time when the door chimed and three voices cut through the quiet.

"I still can't believe such a brute likes tea."

"Shut it Johnny." A deep Manchester accent scolded the much more youthful sounding voice. You looked up and frowned when you saw the assorted lot. They were all muscular under their clothing. One with short hair and a leather jacket, the other with a frow-hawk of sorts and a military vest. And between them.

You didn't know why you were nervous but you felt yourself gulp. He was tall. Tall and big. He wore a hoodie and a balaclava with the jaw of a skull painted on it over his face. Accompanied by black paint smeared across his tired eyes.

Now. Ghost wasn't someone you accidentally mistook for someone else. It was either Ghost or it wasn't, but you weren't sure that this was Ghost. You hadn't seen him in years and if this was him he'd gotten taller. Wider. Stronger. He looked a lot more tired than before but the fact he was accompanied by two other men must have meant something. Especially to be getting tea with them.

You stilled your racing heart and tried not to jump to conclusions. This very well could not be Ghost.

You smiled kindly and tossed the wet cloth in your hand somewhere out of sight. "Hello. What can I get you boys today?"

The one with the military vest chimed in first with a big smirk. "Got an bourbon?" The man in the middle immediately jabbed him in the side with his elbow. The man frowned and huffed. "Fine. Got any whiskey?" He asked with a keen Scottish accent.

You looked up at the menu above you and nodded. "I'm sure I can work that out."

"And you two?"

The opposite man shrugged. "I'll get whatever you do, Ghost."

Your eyes widened. You looked back up at the man who held his jaw high and looked down at you almost judging. If the dead stare didn't tell you enough already. The Brit didn't respond for a minute and then finally said. "Two Earl grey's." You nodded quickly and could feel your heart race. "Take a seat anywhere you'd like."

Once you'd sorted their drinks you came back to find them sitting at a table near the back of the shop. Play it cool. You reminded yourself. You approached them with a smile and placed the tray down and handed out drinks. And then you paused. "You lot wouldn't happen to be part of the military?" That's a really odd sounding question there Y/N you scolded yourself. "I just noticed your jacket. It's military, I was curious."

He man wearing said jacket lit up. "Oh yeah. We all work down there. Lt. Here didn't want to come back to Scotland with me so I came with him." You chuckled. You looked over at Ghost who was contemplating over the tea. He'd have to take his mask off to drink if most likely. You noticed how his eyes briefly wandered over to you. "Im- I'm sorry. This might come off as a weird question but- do I know you?"

Ghost looked up. "Pardon? I'm certain you don't know me."

Well. Now or never.

"Simon Riley? You applied to the military four years out of high school?" Your voice raised an octave in uncertainty. He just stared at you. He looked over at his group as if this was some sick joke so you tried again. "I'm sorry. There was just a guy I signed up with who looked a lot like you do. We were friends for the longest time. He's was the quiet kid who had this weird obsession with guns and scared all our teachers. Although, he was always keen on taking himself off government records so I guess he just doesn't like to be noticed. Apologies-"

Ghost grabbed your wrist. He looked up into your eyes and squinted for a hard second before seeming to form a story in his head and his eyes softened. "Y/N?" You smiled so wide. "Been a while huh sergeant."

"That's lieutenant now soldier."

You smiled. "I'm not serving anymore. No need for formalities. Co-workers?" You motioned to the two other men.

He nodded. "Y/N. This is Kyle "Gaz" Garrick and John "Soap" MacTavish."

"Soap?" You chuckled and shook their hands. "Long story." Soap blushed.

You looked back at Simon and nodded. "I've missed you. We should talk." Ghost scooted over before you could continue and opened the seat for you. So you sat down and got comfy. "Lieutenant huh?" Soap barged in and nodded. "Oh you should have seen him! Tell them about Las Almas! Or that bomb explosion-"

"that'll do!" Ghost barked.

"Sounds like you're loaded with stories." Ghost nodded. He turned back to his colleagues and motioned to you. "Now, this is the sergeant who disarmed two bombs in thirty seconds, made a lieutenant shit his pants in simulated interrogation training and and called a Captain a "dim witted slug" all before being promoted."

"Slug? Is that even an insult?" Kyle chuckled. "It is now. I coined it." You replied proudly.

"So, I hope you two haven't been giving him much trouble?" The two sergeant's looked at each other, then to Ghost who sighed. "This one is energetic and leaves me alone. And that one is even more energetic and refuses to leave me alone."

You chuckled. It didn't feel misplaced. It didn't feel awkward. It was just like always. As if Simon was jumping off a HALO with his scuffed up uniform and a grouchy look. His much younger face covered in a simple balaclava. The way his eyes would soften with relief when he saw you. He'd pull you into his arms and hug you in relief. It was as if time hadn't changed.

His eyes were dimmer with war but they still reminded you of the sleep deprived zombie you'd enjoyed.

"So, I see you've gotten into mask making." You commented when Soap showed you a photo of the boys after a retrieval mission in the rocky mountains. Ghost wore a balaclava with a skull sown to the front. It did look menacing, you had to admit. Ghost rolled his eyes and rolled up his mask to sip his tea.

After a couple minutes of talking the bell to the shop jingled and called you back to work. You stood and nodded to Ghost. "We should catch up some time while you're in town." Ghost opened his mouth to speak when you smacked him softly on the shoulder with your tray. "Mr. Military machinery." And you walked away.

"I hate you Y/N!"

"I hate you too Simon!"

Ghost looked back at his tea and smiled.

On the way out Ghost motioned the two men away to the car. Once the door to the shop closed Simon came to the desk you were sitting at and looked down at you. "Y/N." You looked up and smiled. "Hey! Need something?" He opened his arms hesitantly and once you caught on you didn't hesitate to jump into his arms.

"I missed you Simon."

He nuzzled into your neck and felt his insides relax. Memories and triggers all coming back to him. He tightened his arms and pulled you off your feet. "I'm glad to see you again." You felt tears in your eyes when he placed you back down and you laughed. "Go on. You're friends need you. If you still have the same number I'll call you tomorrow?" He nodded and hesitantly turned to the door. "Y/N?" You hummed when he called you. "You know. Before you left. I never did tell you... I was recruited to the 141."

You smiled. "I know you were. There was no doubt they would want you."

He scoffed. "Sure disappointing you weren't there with me."

"You don't need me taking up your spotlight."

He chuckled. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded. And as he left the shop you couldn't help but wave dramatically as he passed.

"bye Lieutenant!"

Soap:

"Drink! DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!" You're entire team screamed in excitement as you chugged down your seventh shot of bourbon.

The fire buzzed in the back of your throat and your head was barely hanging on before shutting down. You placed the cup on the counter and tried to hold in a burp unsuccessfully.

Your team cheered as you placed down your name on their made-up tally cards. You'd beaten your firearms pyrotechnic by two drinks.

The second you looked up your brain was all over the place. Across the table another group of men watched your bumbling mess oddly. The one in the middle, shrouded on darkness and black clothing looked pissed from what you could tell. But the smaller one sitting next to him was hyped to watch the show.

You ran your fingers through your hair and went to order another drink. "Can I get a-aaah..? Uuuh." You fell sideways off your chair and the rest of your drunken group laughed loudly. You looked up dizzily. The floor was now the ceiling and everything was moving.

"Oh gosh. Simon come help." A figure rushed over to you and blocked the light that flooded your irises. "Hey, you ok?"

"Fuckin' hell." Another figure came over and they grabbed your arms. "I think I smell colors..." You whispered. "Yeah, I do that sometimes too. Let's get you into a comfier chair." You groaned as they dragged you toward the lower level of the bar and sat you down in one of the lounge chairs. The shorter man crouched in front of you and rubbed your thigh comfortingly. "Are you ok? Nauseous? Can I get you some water?"

Your spinning head managed to slow down for a moment and you gazed into his eyes. Eyes doused in a comforting familiarity. You smiled and leaned your head sideways. " You remind- mmmme of s'mone." You slurred. The man smiled. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He had a weird hairdo like yours all through- all through middle school." You chuckled drunkenly and flicked your fingers through his hair before he could stop you.

"Ghost. Can you get some water?" The other man huffed but retreated quickly. "You'll feel much better in the morning. I promise."

You kept your eyes on him and suddenly you felt upset. When you saw his face your mind muddled distinct features with changes to form an old friend. You sniffled. "I miss John." You whispered.

The man frowned but tried to reassure you, his hand still rubbing your thigh. "It'll be ok. Do you have a place to stay with your friends?" He looked back over at your group who where still messing around with each other.

He attempted to stand to take the water Ghost returned with but you managed to grab his wrist. "Don't leave John. Not again. I can't lose you again." This John your mind had come up with looked back at you and something seemed to start clicking away in his brain. He held your sweaty hand and handed you the glass off water that you stupidly mistook for another shot of bourbon. Once you'd downed it you sighed. "Still have that stupid little binder? The red one?"

John's eyes shot open wide. "How. How do you know that?" You shrugged and leaned your head back. "Is jusss- I dunno..." And you were out.

When you woke up in the morning your head was throbbing. You sighed angrily. Why had you done that? You rolled over and grabbed the blankets up in your arms.

"You awake?" A man's voice asked.

You shot up in bed so fast and looked across the room as a man came out with a toothbrush in hand. You screamed and rolled, falling out of bed and onto the floor with a thud.

"Oh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm the guy from the bar. I don't know if you remember me." You rubbed your head and looked up. When you looked around you realized you were in a hotel. "You're friends were staying late and I didn't think a bar was the best place to be passed out." You saw a small formation of blankets on the floor by the bathroom and realized he'd probably slept there that night.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to inconvenience you. Ah- Thank you." He smiled and chuckled. "ain't mah foremaist runaround."

Your head perked up at the suddenly thick Scottish. You stood on your feet and relaxed back against the bed. You looked up at him and the previous nights hazy connection mingled it's way into your brain. "I-I'm sorry." You said once you realized you were staring. You rubbed your head and scrunched your eyes to try and clear the headache. "You just remind me of someone I used to know."

"It's alright. John MacTavish." He replied and held out his hand.

You felt the air leave your lungs. John must have seen your reaction and your jaw dropped. "You are him." You whispered. "You probably wouldn't remember me. I was the whiny kid in middle school? I always looked over your shoulder and would weirdly compliment your doodles-"

John seemed to catch on and his eyes examined you with a new bout of familiarity. "No way- you're not-" You nodded.

"Y/N?" You covered your mouth to hide your excited scream but you nodded happily.

"You put whiskey in Mrs. V's oatmeal!"

"Yeah!" You jumped up and started to laugh. "Oh my gosh! Hi!" He smiled so wide. "It's been so long!" He opened his arms and then hesitated. "Oh, sorry. I don't know if you're comfortable with that." You rushed him and wrapped your arms tightly around him. He smelled of smoke and dirt. Something so unfamiliar and yet so close to home.

"You ugly cried when I left for training."

"Yeah." You smiled into his shoulder. "I told you not to go because you'd get punted on your arse in minutes."

When you pulled away you looked over his face. "Stupid haircut, eyes like a puppy, your cheeks are still kinda plump." You chuckled. "Sorry. This is new though." You touched the scar on his chin but he brushed it off. "It's been a while huh?" He nodded. "You're all grown up."

"Oh shut it."

"Oh! Here. I'll let you get changed. I bought some clothes from the store downstairs so you could get out of those for the day. I'm not sure where you live so uhh. I'll buy you breakfast and we can catch up?" He handed you a bag and backed away to give you space. "Oh absolutely." He smiled brightly.

"Johnny?" He perked up at the nickname and turned. "Thank you."

"Get changed. I'll meet you outside and I can introduce you to my team. And then you can tell me about what you e been up to all this time."

"I'd like that. Thank you."

When you got out of the shower and changed you met Johnny outside and the two of you talked all the way to the cafeteria. It was as if no time had passed at all. Of course that wasn't true. You told him about your new job and what a mess you were for the first two years he was enlisted because you couldn't contact him. He told you about his position as a sergeant and his amazing team.

When you got down there Johnny waved over to a group of men. A casually clothed darker skinned man, a beefer man with a hat and a very tall guy in a balaclava and bulky sweater. "Everyone. This is Y/N. My old friend. Y/N. This is Kyle, John Price and Si-" The last man gave him an look. "Lieutenant Ghost Riley." You smiled sheepishly. "Hi. I'm the drunkard you had to rescue from the bar."

Kyle moved over and patted his seat. "Sit you two." Johnny pulled you down and like a chatterbox he didn't miss a beat in filling you in on everything he'd been up to the past few years. And the two of you never looked back after you were reunited. And his new friends are pretty cool. You fit right in.

König:

You rolled onto your back and huffed loudly. Blood dripped from your lips and gushed from your arm where you'd been shot. Your hands quivered when you were thrown by into the ground in shock. You stared wide eyes up at the sky as blood rushed to your ears.

"Cobra this is Price! Confirm your location! Five enemy targets converging on your route. Can you confirm your location?"

You breathed in, choking on air and forcing up more blood. Your head was pounding. Everything seemed to fade into the background as you stared at the sky.

"Cobra, ally troops are headed to your last known location."

You were barely brought back by the sound of Price's voice. You grabbed your radio and breathed out heavily. "Compromi-" You coughed and your hand fell away weakly.

There was sudden gunfire around you. Four unidentified shadows mingled around you in a haze. One behind your head, the other three from beyond your feet. Blood splattered and two enemies fell to the ground as the larger shadow barrelled through them. A fifth enemy approached and went down as easily.

You heaved again. The figure moved back to your side and kneeled by your torso. "You're ok. I'm here. I'm going to get you out ok?" You groaned. It was König right?? You had a mission briefing with him. Although he wasn't from 141, it was for recruitment.

"Yes. I'm König. Good, just stay awake for me alright?" You looked back up at the sky as he searched for bandages, cursing when he had none. He had one option left.

He pulled off his helmet and tore the cloak from off his face. He pulled the fabric out and wrapped it tightly around you'd arm. Blood soaked through it but he barely cared and lured your gaze back to him.

"I'm going to lift you now alright? You'll be perfectly alright." You looked into his soft brown eyes and his messy brown locks. Stubble messily shaped his scarred chin and his lips were curved down with worry.

You smiled when he pulled you up. A face you recognized instantly. You muttered his name softly and leaned into him. "Can we go home??"

"You're losing blood. I'll get you back to the helicopter and then we can go to base."

"König I want to go home.." You muttered. You felt so tired. Utterly tired and defeated. Your body was caked in dirt and his face was all you could focus on. "You're mama still make..." You groaned. "Cookies. I want cookies."

He gulped and his brow shifted worriedly. "I'll bring you to Ghost. He'll know what to do!"

"Don't go..." You whispered. You managed to curl your shaky fingers around his chest strap and looked up at him with tears.

"I'm scared König..."

His heart broke when you looked at him like that. He clung to you tighter and tried to run faster. Any way he could clear the field of debris quicker he would try.

You closed your eyes and settled your head on his chest...

You woke up with a start. Your body jolted into fight mode as soon as memories were surging through your brain. A large hand grabbed your wrist and gently brought it back to your bedside. "You were shot. Please take it easy."

That voice. Him. His face.

You whipped your head sideways to see König sitting in the chair by the bed. "You asked me not to leave. So I didn't."

His eyes were kinder than they were before in the briefing. You closed your hand around his and laid back against the bed. König continued to watch you. Not creepily, but moreso basking in the fact that you were alive and well. It took more than a shot to the arm to take you down.

König breathed in softly after a moment and suddenly spoke. "You mentioned something to me on the field. Do you remember what it was?"

You looked up at him, then back on the events. "No. I don't really remember anything. I remember your face, and how you used your face covering to secure my wound. It must have been adrenaline."

König seemed to accept the answer and turned to his phone to take his attention. And then the memory suddenly hit you like a train. His face. His soft eyes. The way his voice softened in your weakened state.

"Cookies... yeah."

König looked up. "That's what I'd thought you'd said. But I wasn't sure. Odd thing to say on the field though."

You hummed. "I just... When I saw your face, you reminded me of someone I used to know. Although he was only little. We were fifteen when he moved away. When I last talked to his parents they said he'd gone off to train in the military and they hadn't heard from him..." You looked back up and scoffed. "They always thought he'd died... When I joined and I never saw him again, I believed it too..."

König slumped. "I'm so sorry."

You hummed. "It's ok. I remember he used to have this tree house in his backyard. His mom would get mad because we'd go crawling through her garden playing army men together." You chuckled. "But he moved away and I never saw him again..."

König stared at you. And then he straightened up. "If I told you something, do you think you'd believe me?"

"Shoot."

"I had a tree house in my backyard- i'm- I'm him." He lit up as if he couldn't believe he'd said it. "Y/N! The name, it felt so close and yet-" You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "You're definitely him. Always muttering like a nervous wreck."

"Can ... Can I look under the mask or is that a no deal?"

König looked around briefly before nodded hesitantly. He pulled it up over his helmet and you grinned. His messy locks of hair and soft eyes.

"And here I thought you were dead." You whispered, fresh tears in your eyes. You leaned over in your bed and despite the pain you pressed your head into his neck and wrapped your arms around him.

He shuddered and hugged you back. "I'm sorry." He curled his fingers into fists and sniffled. "I should have tried to contact you but the last couple years I've just..."

He breathed in deeply and relaxed in your arms.

"It's been a while huh?" You sighed. "I'm glad you're ok."

König pulled away and nodded. "Likewise. I'm glad you're alive." He checked your arm again to be sure and nodded. "So... When you're out of here, you want to grab some food??"

"I mean- only if you want it! I wasn't implying that-"

You nodded. "Yes, König, I'd like that very much."

"Alright... Good. That's good. You get all the rest you need ok? I'll be right here when you wake up."

Alejandro Vargas:

Undercover missions. You just loved them. Getting go play around and slip under the noses of evil corporations. It was exhilarating and fun.

There had been word going around your camp that drug dealers in Mexico were going to attend an up coming party to try and make a pretty big exchange under everybody's noses. This party was big and anyone was invited if you were above a certain stature.

Naturally your field team had been flown to Mexico and you were to meet Rodolfo Parra and Alejandro Vargas. It was a thrill and you couldn't sit still the whole time.

When you got there the place was a lot quieter than you'd expected. Two men stood outside a military truck and waved to you all when your team of four approached. "Welcome friends." The shorter one smiled. The taller and slightly beefier man smiled at you, it was charming. "Welcome to Mexico my friends. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"I'm Alejandro Vargas and this my Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra." You climbed into the backseat and smiled back at Alejandro as you drove.

When you reached a small safehouse Alejandro allowed you all out and ushered you inside. You all gathered around a table and started to talk.

"While we'd like to talk to you longer, introductions can wait. We've advised Captain Price of our needs which is why you are here, no doubt you know that."

"The party is tonight. We've read your reports and we've decided I will be stationed outside the party's central square with two men while Alejandro and Y/N go undercover inside the party. Can you do that?" Rodolfo asked. It seemed simple enough. Why wouldn't you be able to do it?

Everyone was pretty used to being rushed so while they talked over intricate details Alejandro insisted on sweeping you away to pick outfits for the evening. It was a bit embarrassing, the way he was so easy around you. He smiled widely after a joke or would say something in Spanish that made him laugh.

"How about this? You like green?"

You chuckled. "Will it make me stand out?"

"we all stand out amigo. It's what we're supposed to do."

You nodded. "Yeah. I just... I like being in the background. You know, I went to a school dance in seventh grade?" He nodded and started shifting back through the clothes. "And I didn't have the nicest outfit, but the person I was going with was one of the more popular kids and decided last minute I wasn't worth it."

"Oh." Alejandro paused. "Amigo I'm sorry. That is awful pressure for such a small child. No doubt having other pressures as well."

"It's ok. It happened a while back. And I remember I was sitting over by the punch when a kid- hadn't really talked to him before. But he came over, smiled really wide," you chuckled. "And he asked me why I was alone. When I told him he grabbed me by the arm and we just hung out. From then on he was my best friend- and his other buddy. I forget his name but there was a shorter kid with messy hair. He was an awkward one though. It was cute to watch." You chuckled.

Alejandro had completely paused in finding clothes and was just watching you. "Hmm. I had a similar experience in my childhood. Although the one I rescued was pouting like a wet dog and I couldn't allow that."

He pulled an outfit off the rack and held it up to you. "Not to flashy?" You took it and nodded. "You'd look good in black." You tossed the suit you'd found his way and headed for a change room. The memory had sparked something in you. His constant smile gave you a loving reassurance that a similar one also did. But if couldn't be Alejandro Alejandro. That was near impossible. You'd moved away when you were nineteen and despite efforts, after three years Alejandro was no longer constantly replying to your texts so you assumed he no longer hand an interest. You couldn't remember what his friends name was though...

"Coming amigo?"

"Huh- oh yes! Sorry!" You unlocked the stall door and came out with the outfit on. Alejandro smiled again. "You look good. Subtle fits you."

When you returned to the group they were all ready with their plan and quickly filled the two of you in on profiles and what you were needed to do.

"Sounds easy." Alejandro smiled again.

When the event arrived the two of you were whisked away in an undercover vehicle to the event. You could feel nerves tightening in your body and the excitement quickly turn to fear. Alejandro took your hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry. It's just a bit of dancing. Don't get caught and you'll be fine."

You walked inside the place and we're overwhelmed with music, lights, and people. Alejandro pulled you close and made his way through the crowd. "Don't get lost." He advised.

You secured your earpiece and successfully got back to Rodolfo who gave you two the go ahead. A server approached you and offered out a platter of seafood on it. "No thank you amigo." Alejandro nodded back to you. "I'm allergic. Don't tell." He chuckled and walked over to the drinks to act casual. He was surprisingly good at it. But that made you wonder.

"Or are you just scared of them? Ever seen a shrimp up close. Nasty looking buggers." Alejandro shivered. He pushed away the thought quickly. "Yeah. After that day we had to look at all those animals up close he was never the same. Never touched a piece of seafood again."

Alejandro pondered your statement carefully before replying. "And then You dressed up as one on Halloween just for the sake of fucking with me?" You chuckled.

"Y/N." He rolled your name happily. Giddy to get to say it again. "Alejandro Vargas. I always thought you'd dropped off the face of the earth."

"I tried to reply, but work is stressful, I did not want to worry you by telling you."

"Been a long time huh. And you still got that damn smile." He placed down his drink as voices came over your comm. Lines.

"Rodolfo missed you." He continued.

"Rodolfo- Rodolfo! Of course that's Rodolfo! He's still got that walk and the little lip pout! How did I miss that?"

"I don't know. He's always been like that. Worried about where you were all the time, sweet thing. Always wanted me to check on you to make sure you were ok. And then we signed up and now he's a shining star. Still anxious, but no longer a cat in water."

You chuckled.

"So. When did you join?" He asked, eager to catch up.

"Five or so years ago. I decided it's what I wanted to do. College wasn't for me and my normal job just didn't feel right. This is right."

"Only real thrill out there. You just be careful when you go home alright?"

"Of course. I've always been careful-"

"Not true. Eighth grade you backflipped off the monkey bars."

"I was only in a neck brace for four months."

"five."

"Five months."

"I had to do your homework because you couldn't look down at the paper. And no matter what we were doing Rodolfo made sure you took your pills on the hour every day."

Two men walked toward you, interested in getting food. Alejandro pulled you in and hugged you tight. He was still wearing that cologne he had when he was seventeen and everybody thought he was cool. You smiled at the memory and hugged him back, grateful to see the bastard again.

A commotion started up across the room and Alejandro smirked. "Well, shall we catch up later?" He offered you his hand and grabbed his gun from his pocket. "You're weird. It's reassuring."

And you went on your merry way. (And then you caught up with Rodolfo after too!)

1K notes · View notes

thought--bubble · 4 months

Note

Hey, would you write something related to modern Aemond like: Aemond in high school is often excluded and harassed because he comes from a family considered strange and also because everyone has a view that he is strange. The reader is the only one who is kind to him and doesn't ignore him, and this is enough for Aemond to fall in love with the reader, despite never having had a real or very long conversation with her.

Additional: Aemond, despite maintaining a tough attitude, is extremely lacking in affection and is quite sensitive

This Is My First Ask So I Really Hope You Like It! The Characters are not in high school because i only write about adults but they will have originally met there. This got away from me a bit but I had a really good time writing it. I hope you enjoy!

My Salvation

Modern Aemond X (Long Term Crush Reader)

Warnings Under The Cut

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Allusions to Bullying, Car sex, Unprotected sex, Pining. IDK i suck at these any suggestions please LMK

"Everything is perfect" You think to yourself as you get yourself ready for your morning shift at the local coffee shop, and as far as you are concerned it really is.

You graduated from Highschool a few months ago and were ready to start your life as an adult. You had gotten yourself a job at the local coffee shop as well as signed up for the Autumn Semester at the Beauty Academy in Manchester.

Makeup for the stars was your dream and with the acceptance to the academy you felt like you were well on your way to achieving that goal.

Your day starts off like any other. You walk into the coffee shop apron in hand and greet your Co-worker Floris. She was a very popular girl back in your high school and dated the local bad boy Cregan Stark on and off for years.

"Good Morning Floris" You smile sweetly at her as you make your way behind the counter.

"Morning" She sighs letting you know the Floris you get to interaact with today is going to be the moody Floris. Internally you sarcastically thank Cregan for breaking up with her yet again and leaving you to deal with her sullen disposition, but you being the ball of sunshine that you are try and bring up the mood with cheerful banter.

"Has it been busy today?" You attempt to make conversation hoping she will bite at the bit so you don't have to suffer through one of those awkward days where she is silent and brooding through almost the entirety of your shared shift.

"No" she answers short and curt. you briefly rub your fingers against your forehead, if you don't figure out how to get her into at least a little bit better of a mood this is going to be a very long annoying shift.

The bell over the door jingles signaling that a customer has entered the shop.

"its back" Floris says annoyed.

"Stop that" You scold as you look toward the door.

There he is, your most common customer. Aemond Targaryen. He has his long blonde hair tied back and his eye patch on. You never understood why he wears that outdated thing. He must think it adds to his mystery persona.

Aemond is a bit of an oddball. Never fit in much in school. He is after all a Targaryen. The fact that he lost an eye in some sort of childhood accident, made him that much more different than everyone else. Which around here, is never a good thing.

"Hey there Aemond, the usual?" you ask him, your typical bubbly demeanor on full display.

"Yes please"" his answers are always so short and void of emotion. never mean or aggressive just short and cold.

You smile at him happily while you prepare his usual black coffee with tons of sugar. How he drinks his coffee like this you will never understand.

You spoke to Aemond sparingly back in school, which although is most than other students, still wasn't much. You wouldn't say you are friends but you do hold a bit of an affinity for him.

He had a tough time. No one could deny that. He was ignored, ostracized. Not that he would ever let anyone know if that fact actually bothered him, you always assumed that it did. At least to some degree.

You hand him the coffee with a big smile on your face. He takes it from you and nods. Making his way to his usual table and pulling out his laptop.

"Why does he stay?" Floris whispers "It's weird"

You shoot her a pointed look. "It is not weird for someone to sit down and work in a coffee shop, actually, it's quite common. Kindness isn't difficult. you should try it"

"You are aware their family tree doesn't have quite enough branches right?" Floris says while chuckling.

"A lot of royal families have that .... kind of history, they are descendants of royalty. Its been like what? 100 generations or something? Don't you think it's time for a new plot point?"

Floris sighs "He's just .... weird"

You roll your eyes and can't help but glance over at the mysterious man. Watching him type away on his laptop and staring at his side profile. If he wasn't the silent brooding type or a Targaryen the girls at school probably would have been all over him. He is obviously handsome with a jaw line that could cut diamonds. Its that icy chill around him and that albatross of a last name that had him shunned.

As your shift continues you occasionally glance over at him. His coffee long gone but still he stays typing away as other customers come and go.

"What do you think he's working on?" you wonder out loud

"Some version of the Targaryen anarchists cookbook i'm sure..... "

You sigh and roll your eyes again. Why could no one seem to look at the man himself instead of his family? Instead of the eye patch? It seemed so cruel.

"Do you mind if I head out 20 minutes early? Cregan wants to talk" she starts putting her jacket on before you even respond.

"Yeah that's fine, Sara and Jace should be here any minute anyway."

You watch as she quickly gathers her things running out of the shop. You tap your fingers on the counter. The shop is now empty save for Aemond typing away on his laptop.

"Hey Aemond?" You practically yell across the shop. He looks up at you furrowing his brows but doesn't say anything.

"You want a muffin or something?" you offer holding up a double chocolate muffin and wiggling it back an forth.

He simply shakes his head returning his focus back to the laptop in front of him. you sigh as you come to the conclusion that it is going to be a long and boring 20 minutes before second shift shows up.

Probably five minutes before Sara and Jace are due to arrive the downpour starts.

"oh well isn't that grand" you mumble to yourself.

You have been trying to save up for a car. Your parents couldn't afford to buy you one at the present time, and with the wages earned at the coffee shop it would most likely take the entire summer for you to save up enough so you walked to and from work. This typically wasn't a big deal since you lived close by but torrential rain always made the experience a lot less pleasant.

Jace comes running in soaked to the bone.

"Please tell me you just ran a mile and not just 5 seconds from the car park?" the grimace on your face outwardly showing how you are feeling

"Nah this is the 2 second walk from the car park it's serious out there right now!" he laughs while he shakes his hair off.

He comes around the back of the counter.

"He's here again huh? I could ask him to stop?" Jace whispers

"No, he's fine, he has a coffee works on whatever and then he goes."

"He always comes at the beginning of your shift and leaves at the end of it. You don't think that is a little weird?"

"Isn't he like your cousin or something? I would think that you would be nicer" you take off your apron and hold it in your hands.

"uncle, and we're not close" Jace heads to the backroom trying to dry himself off. "When sara gets here, I'm sure she won't mind running the store alone a few minutes so's I can drop you off"

"No, I'm ok. Just a little rain, Heard rainwater is good for your hair" You chuckle to yourself. "Bye Jace"

Jace waves as you head out the door of the shop and the second you get outside you can't believe how hard it is raining.

"Let me take you." Aemonds cool voice comes from behind you.

"Oh!" you jump and turn around his face, still as stone looking at you awaiting your answer.

"Thanks, that would be very kind" You decide to accept his offer. Firstly, it is downpouring and you really don't want to ruin your shoes and second, he can't escape you in a tiny car. He will have to finally speak.

The two of you run over to his Porsche. Of course he would have a Porsche.

"I'm getting your seat wet, i'm so sorry" you blurt out the moment the two of you are in the car.

"Don't worry about it" He turns the car on and turns on the heat.

"Thank you for this." You smile at him hoping he will look over at you.

Instead he just nods and puts the car in reverse backing out of the parking space.

You don't even tell him where you live but he pulls out front of your building anyway.

"Ummm.... how did you?"

"I dropped you off junior year after your friend ditched you."

"Right, I forgot about that" you scratch the back of your neck and purse your lips but don't make a move towards getting out of the car.

"Why do you come see me?" you look directly at him.

"What?" His voice sounds a bit defensive

"I'm not bothered by it. Really, I'm just curious"

"I like coffee." He answers as he turns his head toward you.

"No. it's something else. C'mon tell me" you flutter your lashes and give him a puppy dog look, no one can withstand your puppy dog look.

He chuckles and rolls his neck. "I remember"

This peaks your interest "Remember what?"

He sighs "I remember every single time you talked to me, looked at me, walked by me and waved. Hell, i remember when you held the door open for me. twice"

Your breath catches in your throat.

"I'm not crazy and i'm not a stalker i swear" he rubs his collar bone nervously. "it's just..... you were my salvation. The one person who didn't run from me or sneer at me or judge me and hate me" he grips the steering wheel tightly.

you reach over and gently rub his knuckles as they turn white. he takes a deep breath in at the skin to skin contact.

"So in other words.... you miss me?" You ask with a tiny smile and a blush on your cheeks.

"yeah, if you wanna make it simple i guess that would be the right term for it"

"How much?" Your voice drops from your sweet and kind persona, to a more sultry sound.

Aemond catches this right away. "Umm.... what?"

you get up on the seat, on your knees and lean over the center console. getting up close to his ear. "How much did you miss me? Like, was it driving you crazy?" You place your hand on his shoulder tracing your finger along his neck "Keeping you up at night?"

his breath comes out in unsteady huffs "You really shouldn't"

"Hmmm?"

"I will not be able to control myself if you keep that up" he grips the steering wheel tighter and suddenly the situation in this car had changed completely.

You were no longer teasing him to get a rise and reaction out of him. Him stating he wouldn't be able to control himself lit a fire in you. You felt this urge to push him there. A burning pooling in your belly you were not going to ignore. No, just this once you were going to indulge.

You lean over further bringing your mouth to his ear. "Maybe I want to see it"

He bites his bottom lip, then grabs your face pressing his lips against yours harshly. Lust and desperation apparent in his kiss. His hand slides up the back of your neck to the base of your head holding you close as he continues to devour you. Like a man starved.

Before your brain has even caught up to what is happening he grips your thigh harshly pulling you over the center console and into his lap. he quickly grabs your hips pushing you down into him as his tongue continues to explore your mouth.

"I've dreamt of this for ages" he whispers as he kisses and nibbles along your jawline making you purr contently. Being wanted this bad is the biggest turn on you have ever experienced.

You roll your hips against him chasing that pressure. When he feels this he growls and pushes your core against him as he ruts up against you.

"I have to have it." He begs with a breathy sigh "Gods please i have to"

You unbuckle your khakis and slide them off your legs giggling at the slight gymnastics you have to perform in order to get them off. Once they are off you drop back onto his lap and he runs his hands up your back pulling you tight up against him. His mouth finds yours again as his slips his hand between your thighs and slides a finger inside of you.

"I knew you would be perfect, I fuckin knew it" He groans as he adds a second finger pumping in and out of you slowly. he hooks his finger finding that spot inside of you that sends you to ecstasy. You close your eyes and roll your head back moving your hips rhythmically against his hand.

"oh god, oh god!" You squeal as he brings you over the edge, you clenching around his fingers. He immediately unfastens his jeans sliding them down to his thighs and pulling you over him.

"is this ok?" He asks gripping your hips tightly

You nod and he pushes your hips down sliding himself into you slowly. he makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl as you sink down onto him.

"This ain't gonna last long darlin" he grunts as he thrusts up into you. He bites down on your shoulder as he pulls you down over him over and over thrusting up into you at the same time. He rubs your pearl with his thumb as he quickens his pace.

Jaw slack and eyes like dinnerplates he watches as you come done a second time and groans

"Where? Where?" He whines "Fuck"

"I'm on birth control it's fine" You bite his bottom lip "Go ahead"

"Fuck! Ok Ok Fuck" He slams your hips down onto him three more times before his body tenses and squeezes your hips so tight you think your bones may snap.

you rest your forehead on his shoulder as the both of you regulate your breathing.

"Thank god it's fucking pouring" You giggle.

"Yeah, that was a bit mental wasn't it?" he laughs while breathing heavily and running his fingers through your hair.

You flop back over to the passengers seat and start pulling your trousers back on.

"See you at the coffee shop tomorrow?" you ask as you clasp the button.

"Always" he smiles back at you.

"Good, cuz i think I may need another ride..... " you giggle

"Really? you live so close" He teases back

"Who said I wanted to go home?" you wink at him as you hope out of the car. "See you tomorrow"

You shut the door and head inside with a huge grin on your face.

"Ok ... NOW everything is perfect"

To be added to taglist click here

#ewan mitchell verse #aemond fanfiction #modern aemond/ you #modern aemond fanfiction #modern aemond #modern aemond x reader #fic request #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #jess fics #my modern war criminal bf

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grantgustluv · 9 months

Text

his champion - lando norris

pairings: lando norris x fem!footballer!reader

author’s notes: THIS IS MY FIRST IMAGINE AHHHH so let me know what I need to improve on. Also, just pretend that it wasn’t the Hungarian GP on 31st July 2022

warnings: some mentions of anxiety, implied smut (i’m not ready to write that yet sorry)

comment any requests please - i’m going to try and put a new one out every Wednesday

30th July 2022 - the night before the final

Lando and Y/N had been together 4 years, but known each other since the age of 4 and despite their demanding work schedules and busy lives, still found time to love and support one another. They decided to keep their relationship private (with the exception of close friends) because they knew just how brutal their “fans” could be with the introduction of a significant other in their lives, and, although they considered themselves too young to be fully settling down yet, they still only saw each other as their future and they didn’t want that ending yet, especially not by fake fans.

Lando was incredibly proud of his girlfriend and all her achievements despite her only being 23, he had been by her side through everything, all the best parts, like signing for her childhood club, scoring her first goal for both Manchester United and England and making her first appearance at the 2015 World Cup at the age of 16, but also all the lowest moments of her career too, the injuries, the hate, the doubt and all the rumours. Lando had been there through it all and he would always be her biggest supporter no matter what. The same could also be said for Y/N, she was his biggest fan and came to as many of his races as she possibly could and Lando insisted that she was his lucky charm. The only way they could support each other while not physically being there was by sporting the number 4 on their backs, Lando being McLaren’s number 4 and Y/N being number 4 for both Manchester United and England. It was their number. They were each other’s person.

The Women’s Euro tournament had been life changing for England’s Lionesses so far, they had truly done their country proud in every game, but they still had one more to go, the final, against Germany, their toughest opponents yet. Y/N was the top scorer of the tournament so far and was determined to walk away with the golden boot, but she knew it wouldn’t be the same without also winning the Euros altogether with her team.

She never usually got nervous before her games, but this was different, it was one of the biggest games of her career. But all that took over her mind was that she knew that Lando was going to be there. Thankfully, a break in the f1 season had fallen right on the day of the final, which meant Lando and a few of the other drivers were able to come and show their support.

Y/N couldn’t help the smile that took over her face when she looked at her phone, more specifically, her home screen as a notification popped up. It was a picture of Lando wearing her football shirt from last season with the cheesiest grin on his face. Lando hated the photo, but she absolutely loved it, because whenever she would look at it, it would brighten up her day. In that moment she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have someone that radiated so much joy and happiness by her side. He was the daylight in her life.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Slowly, she walked over to the door of her hotel room and opened it to be greeted by a bouquet of gorgeous roses and the very same smile she was grinning to herself about a few minutes ago. “Missed me?” asked Lando as he handed her the flowers. Y/N didn’t even answer as she jumped straight into his arms and held him as tight as possible. They both breathed a sigh of relief at finally being back in each other’s arms and they weren’t ready to let go yet, they could’ve stayed like this forever. Y/N pulled away first and looked at the flowers. “They’re gorgeous Lan, thank you,” she beamed as she walked over to put them on the side table. She felt his arms wrap around her waist and the tickle of his faint stubble in the crook of her neck. “Not as beautiful as you sweetheart,” he mumbled softly, kissing her neck. He gripped onto her hips and spun her round so they were face to face. “How are you feeling?” he asked, knowing how anxious she could sometimes get before big games like this. “I just feel like I want to get out there and play, I hate the waiting around before,” she ranted. He chuckled lightly, “I know baby, but you’re going to do so amazing, Daniel and I have already predicted what’s going to happen” she raised her eyebrows encouraging him to carry on. “You’re going to score, I just know it. And not just one, but two. It’ll be a tight game but I really believe you girls will win, you all deserve it so much, especially you Miss L/N” he finished. She just gazed at him lovingly and said with a teasing smile, “I hope you’re right Mr Norris.”

It was the day of the final at Wembley and all the girls were getting ready in the changing rooms for the last push of the tournament, giving each other encouraging talks and of course a last minute motivational speech from Leah. Higher up within the stadium was Lando, he was in one of the family boxes with the rest of the L/Ns and had brought along Daniel, Carlos, Max, George, Lewis and Charles (Y/N’s second family, she would call them), all there to support not only their friend’s girlfriend, but someone who had supported them in their careers too.

As Y/N was listening to her pre-game music, her phone buzzed, it was a message from Lando. She tapped on it and chuckled to herself, it was a picture of Lando, Daniel, Max, George, Carlos, Charles and Lewis looking out onto the pitch, all wearing an England shirt with her name and number on the back. She felt a tear form in the corner of her eye at the sweet gesture from the boys and replied back quickly with a red heart when she felt a tap on her shoulder from her teammate, signalling that they need to go line up ready to walk out.

Stood behind her was Jill who squeezed her shoulders and said “We’ve got this kiddo.” Y/N laughed at the nickname that had stuck since the first time she played with Jill in 2015 when she was in fact still a kid. She took a deep breath and replied with “Yes we do.” All of a sudden she was walking out into a packed out Wembley, screams and cheers surrounded her as the two teams made their way onto the pitch. Lining up, Y/N started to look around and her eyes locked onto him. There he was. They gazed at each other lovingly and Lando waved down at her and then made a love heart with his hands, causing Y/N to blush and a big grin to take over her face showing off the dimples that Lando loved so much. It wasn’t until a nudge in her ribs from Lucy Bronze broke her loving gaze from him, letting her know that the national anthem was about to start.

The first half had been pretty uneventful with neither teams scoring a goal and England knew they needed to up their game in the second half or their dream of winning might just slip away. It was in the 62nd minute when Lucy was running down the wing and spotted Y/N outside of the box with no one marking her. Y/N saw the ball coming her way but she knew she wouldn’t have time to stop the ball in order to get the right angle for her shot, so as it came closer she prepared herself and as the ball made contact with her right boot, she volleyed it into the top corner of the net. She couldn’t believe it. She had scored for her country in the European final. She ran to the corner of the pitch towards the England fans and the subs that were warming up alongside the rest of her team, with Leah launching herself onto Y/N’s back. All she could hear around her was her famous chant the fans had come up with a few years ago and the encouragement from the girls. This was a dream come true.

The stadium was still buzzing as the players made their way back to their positions, she looked around for him and when she spotted him she held up an ‘L’ with her fingers and then formed a heart. Lando got a few teasing shoves and comments from his friends. “I think that one was for you mate,” Daniel said with a chuckle. Lando just blushed and mumbled “I know” back to him.

Unfortunately, due to Germany scoring as well and bringing the score to a draw, the game was forced into 30 minutes of extra time. The last thing any of them wanted was it going to penalties, because they knew how much pressure they were, especially in a final. Everyone was on the edge of their seats as it edged into the last 2 minutes of the game and Germany were given a corner. Y/N decided to hang back instead of getting in the box with every other player, even the Germany goalkeeper had joined the rest of her team in the box in hopes of scoring a last minute winner. The delivery into the box was near perfect but no way was Mary letting that ball into the goal at this point so she pushed it away straight out of the box. The ball flew over all the player’s heads and straight towards Y/N and the player that was marking her. She collected the ball, turned around and started running as she already knew that she was onside. She could feel the German player close to her trying to catch her up but she kept pushing. She was running towards an open goal and they were surely into the last minute by now, so she increased her pace as much as she could for one last push. She kept her gaze forward as she took the shot just after entering the box.

Time slowed down completely as she and nearly ever person in the country watched the ball hit the back of the net. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as she ripped her shirt of her head and swung it round throwing it to the ground as she saw her teammates running towards her. She looked around the stadium. The fans were screaming, the girls were grinning from ear to ear and Lando was cheering and beaming down at the love of his life. He already thought that he was madly in love with her but right now he swore he had never felt this much love for a person, his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest and without thought reached into his pocket to feel the little box he had been carrying around with him for the last 3 months. He wanted this, he wanted forever with her, no, he needed forever with her. He caught her looking up at him and nearly fell to his knees when she grinned up at him with teary eyes, pointing to herself, forming a heart and then pointing at him. Lando chuckled nervously to himself, wiped his eyes and then repeated the action.

All the players were eagerly awaiting the full time whistle from the referee and finally it came. Y/N dropped to her knees and burst into tears, they had done it. She had done it. She felt herself being lifted off the floor by a few of her teammates and they couldn’t even produce words as they just cried into each other’s embraces. They approached the German players, congratulating them on a good game and comforting those in tears.

‘Three Lions’ started blaring through the speakers after a few minutes causing the girls to start dancing and singing on the pitch, the whole of Wembley sung in unison and gazed down at their Lionesses, their champions.

After applauding their fans and the German players receiving their silver medals, it was time for the Lionesses to collect their Gold medals, she was nearly there. “And now, give it up for your golden boot winner, your player of the tournament, your number 4, Y/N L/N!” the announcer spoke and suddenly, a loud roar burst through the stadium. She couldn’t believe it. To have the support of your family and team was one thing but to have the support of your country was like no other feeling in the world. She shook Prince William’s hand after receiving her medal and walked over to the trophy, admiring it before walking over to the rest of the team who were now just waiting for their skipper Leah to bring over the trophy ready for the proper celebration to begin.

She didn’t think it was possible, but as Leah lifted up the trophy into the air, the stadium grew louder than ever. Y/N and Millie were then handed a bottle of champagne each and they knew exactly what they needed to do. Y/N turned up to her families box and winked at Lando and he immediately caught on as to what was about to happen. She gave the champagne a little shake and with some force banged the bottom of the bottle against the floor, causing the champagne to shoot out of the top and high into the air, the screams of her teammates then took over as Rachel stole the bottle out of her hands and started spraying everyone with it. Y/N looked up at Lando and could see Daniel and Max next to him cackling at the stunned and lovestruck expression on his face. He was a little embarrassed by himself with how easily that turned him on.

The girls all jumped around on the pitch taking turns holding the trophy and when it was finally handed to her, Y/N kissed the top of it and lifted it high into the air. Just as she was about to pass it on, she felt multiple pairs of arms lift her up in the air and the stadium yet again let out a huge cheer for their number 4. The girls had never experienced an atmosphere like this, things were changing and they knew that they were a part of that change.

As the celebrations had died down, the player’s families were allowed to come down onto the pitch, and as Y/N was getting yet another picture with the trophy, she felt arms wrap around her from every angle. She turned around to be met by the proud expressions of her mum, dad and little brother, she shared tight hugs with all of them before she heard her name being called by a familiar voice behind her. She turned round and jumped straight into Lando’s arms as her legs wrapped around his waist. After a few moments she unhooked her legs and Lando placed her down onto the ground with their foreheads still touching, neither of them could care less about being private anymore as they both leaned in and connected their lips together in a loving and passionate kiss, hearing the sound of cameras clicking around them. They were pulled apart by the sounds of fake gags coming from behind them, they turned around to be met with the boys sharing fake looks of disgust on their faces. Y/N and Lando went over to them and they all joined together for a group hug, which again, caused a ricochet of camera clicks to go off around them. This moment was exactly what Y/N had waited for, winning the European Final and doing it with her team, her family and the love of her life.

Lando and Y/N walked out the stadium hand in hand, heading back to the hotel to get changed ready for the real celebrations to begin.

Lando couldn’t tear his eyes away from her all night, she was jumping up and down to the song playing, her hair bouncing as she did so, her dimples prominent due to the gorgeous smile on her face, her dress clinging to her beautiful figure and her angelic glow causing her to stand out perfectly in the room full of people. Lando could confidently say that he was the luckiest man on earth to have a girl as perfect as her being in love with a guy like him.

It was getting into the early hours of the morning now and both Lando and Y/N were ready to go back to the hotel room, both had craved to be sleeping in each other’s arms again after a month away from each other. They arrived back at the hotel room 15 minutes later and Lando watched as Y/N flopped onto the bed dramatically. Chuckling to himself, he began to remove her heels that she had been complaining about for the majority of the evening and placed them to the side, before carefully lifting her up with her clinging to him like a koala and carrying her to the bathroom and placing her gently on the countertop. Lando stared at her lovingly and softly pushed her hair out of her face. Her eyes flickered open slightly and she let out a little hum as her eyes met her favourite person. Lando proceeded to gently remove the makeup from her face and then carry her back through to the bedroom before removing her dress and replacing it with one of his tops that drowned her figure.

Just as Lando had snuggled in beside her, he felt her shift slightly in his hold. “I love you Lan, you’re everything to me” she mumbled tiredly, followed shortly by her soft snores. The faint traces of the early morning sunrise had started to peek through the curtains allowing Lando to gaze at her sleeping figure. Being careful not to wake her, he placed a gentle kiss on the side of her head, “I love you too my champion,” he whispered softly into the kiss, before drifting off to sleep, holding his girlfriend tightly to his chest.

#lando norris #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 #lionesses #football imagine #england #womens euros #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #george russell #imagine

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allywthsr · 10 months

Note

Hii! United fan here who’s still not over the mount signing😁😂Can I request a mason mount x fem!reader where she goes with him to the signing with his family and she’s just there with him throughout the day

Based on this video <3 https://youtu.be/tv_C7cv7wY8

NEW BEGINNINGS | (m.mount)

summary: Mason has his first official day and needs you by his side

wordcount: 2.4k words

pairing: masonmount x fem!reader

warnings: mason and you being horny, but nothing graphic

notes: hope you enjoy! I have no clue how english football works behind the scenes, so I hope it kind of makes sense! Like and comment your thoughts please!

”Mason are you ready? We need to leave in ten minutes.“, you shouted through the still empty house. You hadn’t had time to unpack all of your stuff yet. Too busy settling into the new city and Mason was too busy doing stuff at the Manchester United centre.

A loud ”Yes, just finishing my hair.“, was screamed from upstairs. You chuckled, feeling the butterflies in you stomach, you were probably more nervous than Mason. You just couldn’t help but feel excited for this new chapter while still mourning the move to Manchester. You had loved the house in London and you loved how your friends all lived nearby. Now you had to start over and make new friends, you just hoped the other wags would be nice to you and you wouldn’t have to stand alone during the first game.

When a shaking Mason arrived at the bottom of the stairs, handsome as ever in his black pants, white shirt, and red Manchester utd jacket, you had to hug him, hoping to take some nervousness off of him and just flick it away.

”I‘m just as nervous as you are, baby. It’s going to be fine. I‘ll be there, your whole family will be there and you have us. Whenever you feel like shitting your pants, just squeeze my hand, okay? It’s going to be alright.“

He took your hand and squeezed it real tight. You let out a laugh. ”Not now love, you‘ll be fine, believe me. Later when we‘ll be in bed you‘ll laugh about how easy this day was.“

After that, he came closer to your ear and whispered: ”Later in bed, I‘ll do many things but laugh, babygirl.“

This going straight to your core. Babygirl was a nickname he only used in the bedroom or to rile you up during the day. And well, it worked. You squeezed your legs together to relieve some pressure that build up.

Mason gave you a knowing look and smirked. What a dipshit. He gave you a kiss on your neck where he sucked the skin a little and then loosened the hug. You wanted to kill him for leaving you like that.

With a smack on his bum, you made your way to the car, ready to go.

When you arrived, you first met up with his family. They stood in the car park next to their cars waiting for you and after a round of ’hellos’ and ’heys‘ you were ready to go inside. Mason had a strong grip on your hand and you squeezed it from time to time to show your support.

When you saw the cameras and the crew waiting for Mason, you wanted to go to his family who were walking a few meters behind, so you wouldn’t be in the shot, you weren’t the star of the day after all, but he kept a firm grip on your hand.

”You said you would stay by my side, I can’t do this alone now.“

You whispered a small ”Okay“ before he went a greeted the crew waiting for him. After going in and greeting the lovely desk lady and getting the tour through the halls of the center, it was time to go outside. You were stunned by the big history this club held, while never leaving Mason's side. You felt sorry for the viewers who expected to see Mason but got a free upgrade with you on his side, you also didn’t think it was something the crew imagined as they first looked a bit confused and asked several times if he was ready to film.

When you went outside and saw the set up you gasped, it looked so sweet, and after greeting and shaking hands with everyone you could go and have a better look at it. Seeing his new jersey laying on the stool you felt tingly inside.

You wanted to lose the grip he had on your hand and let him do his thing but he refused and just squeezed your hand, showing he needed the support. So you went together to the backdrop and he finally let got off your hand to inspect his new jersey. While you placed your now empty hand on his back to keep the contact and support for him.

”Pretty cool huh?“, he looked at you after unfolding it and holding it at the top, while you gripped the side to stretch it a little for a better look. You felt the material and looked at it. Mount number 7, also something you had to get used to after he had 19 at Chelsea, but seeing how iconic number 7 was, you just hoped for him to feel as good as the other boys did in it.

After turning it around you said: ”It‘s not bad is it.“ he turned to the camera and said with a little wink: ”You heard the lady, it’s not bad.“

You rolled your eyes playfully.

”Makes me wanna go on the pitch and play“, you smiled at him and started to inspect the background they set up. Seeing the baby picture, you took a closer look. You couldn’t believe how cute your boyfriend was even as a child, with the sweetest little ears and his hair perfectly styled. The fan picture made you excited, to see his new fanbase, hoping they wouldn’t kill him on the pitch, seeing the negative comments people left on his and your Instagram. And the illustrated picture of him in the Manchester Utd kit looked amazing. You hoped that you could take it home afterwards and hang it on the wall. You needed some pictures on the still-empty walls in your new home. After that, it was time to pose for pictures. So you let go of his back and joined his family, who were already talking about the experience and the energy this place radiated.

Little Summer was buzzing with excitement and had a lot of energy, so you ran around the terrace with her for a little to calm her down. Her brother Archie laid in his stroller and the sight of him made your ovaries scream. He looked so small and sweet, you imagined what it would be like to start a family here with Mason. You two always talked about how you wanted to start a family soon, but that was always before the transfer to Manchester started, now you didn’t know where he stood regarding that topic.

But Mason was just as excited as you were. Seeing you with Summer made the butterflies in his stomach fly around even more, he couldn’t wait to have a little Mason or a little Y/N running around your new home.

The pictures and videos he had to do were absolutely gorgeous, seeing him sitting in that chair did mad things to you, you just wanted to hop on his lap and do unholy stuff, but not when his family+his new crew was watching. But you definitely needed to buy a chair for the new house, it made your mind crazy and horny. After he did the media pictures it was time for family pictures for memories. The whole family gathered behind Mason and you. Mason held one of the jersey's shoulders, placing his hand on your back, while you held the other shoulder, placing your other hand also on his back, and posed for the new family picture. Mason also wanted one with only you so you did the same pose as before. And after FaceTiming his sister from Australia he felt way less nervous than this morning when he really got on your nerves. Before the alarm clock even rang, he woke you up by poking his pointer finger in your face because he couldn’t sleep anymore and felt like throwing up. You tried to get him back to sleep but it was impossible.

The video camera documenting every step you guys took made you feel a little intimidated. It wasn’t like Mason and you had a secret relationship or something like that. It was actually pretty open, often posting candids of the other on an Instagram story, or making a post about the other, but getting the official welcome on the YouTube channel was something different.

Standing next to Mason when he gave his first autograph on the new jersey, you let out a surprised sound because of how good it looked.

”Smashed it, Mase“, you told him. It looked fucking good. You wished you could take it home as a memory for later.

After walking on the green ground for the first time, you couldn’t wait to see him on the pitch, where he hopefully gets the treatment he deserved.

The interviews didn’t seem to end, the questions got sillier the longer you walked. Thankfully you had his family next to you, to keep you company. After the interviews you went to the next media station, the official signing picture. While walking to the assigned room, you were stunned again by the big halls and pictures plastered on every wall. After Mason took pictures alone while signing the contract, with his parents and family it was time for the two of you. You stood on his left side and placed your hand proudly on his shoulder while having the biggest grin on your lips, just like Mason. This was a big deal to the both of you, a new club, a new city, a new beginning. You were ready for it, scared, but ready.

”I‘m super thirsty, is there somewhere where we can get a drink?“, Mason asked. He really was thirsty but he knew the rest of you guys could also use a break. Little Archie got fussy throughout the day, not wanting to be any longer in his stroller and also desperate for a drink. So you all settled in the cafeteria, having a coffee or a water and just enjoying the peace. Mason also removed his Manchester United jacket after a: ” It’s pretty warm, innit“. While Mason held your hand under the table and placed them on his thigh, he talked to his parents who sat at the same little table as you two.

”What’s now on the Agenda“, you asked, feeling yourself getting tired after walking around the center all day.

”I think it’s a photoshoot next to the ’The theatre of dreams‘ wall, seeing and shooting in the locker room and seeing and shooting in the stadium. It shouldn’t be that long anymore my love“, he squeezed your hand. With a tired nod, you got up as the press agent, who had shown you around all day, came back from her little break, and told all of you that it was time to continue the tour. Walking to the ’The theatre of dreams‘ wall, you woke up again and got excited to see the holy ground soon. And after he finished the photoshoot, it was time to see the changing room. Passing through the door the room looked huge and you felt the energy of the players. Seeing his jersey hanging on the wall over his new seat made your heart swell. This was his dream. Playing football somewhere where he is appreciated and loved, and you had a good feeling about this place. Sitting on his new space, he got his pictures taken and then it was your turn again with the family as well, he wanted to get as many pictures as possible, needing to fill up the empty spaces on your wall at home. Standing up and walking into the middle of the room more questions were asked.

When they turned the lights red, he took your hand, squeezed it, and gave you a knowing look, which meant dirty thoughts, but played it over with a cool: ”It’s game-time baby“.

Summer was jumping around with the lights dimmed, being super excited over the change of color when Mason took her in his arms and turned around in circles. Her screeching could be heard from miles away, but it made everyone happy to see she also had a good time and wasn’t bored or making a fuss.

Walking on the holy ground of the stadium, gave Mason goosebumps as he walked around and mumbled the word ’special‘ a bunch of times. Looking at you with his big smile, he took you in his arms and just stood like that for a few seconds. Suddenly feeling very grateful that you chose to come with him on this new adventure. After a kiss on your forehead, he let go of you and you joined his family again, not wanting to be in every shot of the video or pictures. While walking through the tunnel to get to the last picture point of the day, you felt Summer taking your hand. The darkness scared her a little and she chose her auntie Y/N to protect her, everyone cooed at the interaction.

After he had his last official picture taken, under the ’The theatre of dreams‘ quote, it was time for family pictures. Everyone turned their back towards the camera and posed so it looked like you were absently staring at the pitch. It turned out to be your favorite picture out of all the ones you took today. But of course, you took one facing the camera, which also looked pretty cute.

Someone shouted: ” It’s a wrap everybody, thank you“, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling the pressure flooding out of your body, you looked at Mason and you could see in his eyes how relaxed he was now.

After saying goodbye to everyone, you made your way to the cars, saying goodbye to his family as well, as they made their way to a hotel they found not far from your home. You would have loved to host them in your new house, but you barely had time to put up any furniture so the guest rooms were filled with boxes. They decided to stay in a hotel and help you the following days to make the place a bit more homier faster. After all, Mason had a busy schedule and couldn’t help as much as he wanted to.

But in the end, you were glad they weren’t staying at your place because Mason ended up showing you, how he really wasn’t laughing in bed at the end of the day.

#mason mount #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #mason x reader #football #manchester united

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overgaardwaddell30 · 2 months

Text

The Power of Retal Signs: Five Popular Signage Types to Attract New Business

In the bustling world of retail, attracting new customers is essential for business growth and success. While online marketing has gained prominence, the impact of physical shop signage cannot be overlooked. Business Signage Manchester A well-designed and strategically placed shop sign can catch the eyes of passersby, pique their interest, and ultimately entice them to step inside. In this article, we will explore five of the most popular types of shop signage that businesses use to attract new customers.

Exterior Illuminated Signs

Exterior illuminated signs are among the most effective ways to capture attention, especially during nighttime or in low-light conditions. These signs utilize various lighting methods, such as neon lights or LED displays, to create a vibrant and eye-catching appearance. The illumination ensures that the shop sign remains visible and stands out in crowded streets, attracting potential customers from a distance. Moreover, the ability to customize colors and animations makes these signs versatile, allowing businesses to align their branding and promotions effectively.

A-Frame Signs

A-Frame signs, also known as sidewalk signs or sandwich boards, are a cost-effective and practical way to engage with foot traffic. These portable signs are placed outside the shop entrance or on busy sidewalks, offering a platform to display daily specials, promotions, or witty messages that can draw people in. The ability to change the content frequently keeps the messaging fresh, making A-Frame signs particularly attractive for businesses that run regular promotions or events.

Window Graphics and Decals

A well-designed window display can work wonders in enticing potential customers to explore a store further. Window graphics and decals allow businesses to showcase their products, services, or upcoming sales directly on the storefront. The key to an effective window display lies in its creativity and relevance to the target audience. By aligning the display with seasonal trends or current events, businesses can connect with customers on a personal level and create a sense of urgency to step inside the store.

3D Lettering and Channel Signs

3D lettering and channel signs offer a more sophisticated and upscale look for businesses aiming to project a sense of professionalism and quality. These signs are constructed using materials like metal, acrylic, or wood, and are raised from the surface to create a three-dimensional effect. Retail Signage Manchester The added depth and texture make the shop signage visually appealing and memorable. When strategically illuminated, these signs cast striking shadows, further enhancing their visibility and impact.

Vehicle Wraps

For businesses on the move, vehicle wraps serve as an ingenious method to attract new customers throughout the city. These wraps cover the exterior of company vehicles with vibrant graphics, logos, and contact information. Whether parked or in motion, these mobile billboards capture the attention of pedestrians, drivers, and passersby alike. Vehicle wraps are particularly effective for service-oriented businesses, such as food trucks, delivery services, and contractors, as they ensure that the brand message reaches a diverse and widespread audience.

Conclusion

In the competitive landscape of retail, shop signage plays a crucial role in attracting new customers. From the striking glow of exterior illuminated signs to the creativity of window graphics, each type of shop signage offers a unique advantage in engaging potential buyers. Leveraging the power of A-Frame signs, 3D lettering, and vehicle wraps further diversifies a business's marketing strategy and expands its reach. To stand out from the crowd and leave a lasting impression on consumers, businesses must invest in high-quality shop signage that aligns with their brand identity and marketing objectives. By embracing these popular types of shop signage, businesses can draw more customers through their doors and pave the way for long-term success in the dynamic world of retail. Spruce up the exterior of your business with a new affordable signage from Universal Signage, Manchester's premier signage company. Though typically disregarded stand out shop front signage is still a powerful advertising tool Need new signage for your business? Get in touch with Universal Sign Makers Manchester on 0161 850 1105 to find out more or to arrange a completley FREE quotation.

#Shop Signs Manchester #Retail Signage Manchester #Sign Makers Manchester #Business Signs Manchester #Manchester Signage Company #Manchester Sign Maker #Manchester Business Signs #Shop Signs #Retail Signage #outdoor Signage #indoor Signage #Sign Makers #Business Signage #Business Signs #Window Signs

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elceeu2morrow · 6 months

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'Louis Tomlinson has proven he's not just an ex-boyband star, he's a rocker'

Some know him as 'that guy from One Direction', others, including myself know him as arguably one of South Yorkshire's finest exports but Louis Tomlinson is only getting better, writes Daniel Bird

Image: Mirrorpix/Daniel Bird

Daniel Bird Assistant Showbiz Editor 17:31, 12 Nov 2023

Louis Tomlinson may only have two solo albums but he's proving to be one of the artists people should keep an eye on.

Having burst onto the music scene in 2010 as one-fifth of One Direction – a band created by Nicole Scherzinger on The X Factor after all five members were rejected, he's proven he's not just an ex-boyband singer. While singers from bands tend to keep a low profile and venture into other industries after a split, Louis is on a one-way ticket to becoming a mega-star in his own right.

Known for never losing his Doncaster accent and humour, the 31-year-old is currently embarking on his Faith In The Future World Tour, performing to thousands of die-hard fans every night – which he deserves credit for.

Although he may have come from one of the biggest bands of all time, the cheeky chap isn't afraid of getting up close and personal with fans – much to the dismay of his security who leap into action when he jumps off stage and runs to the barricade to see fans. In recent weeks, Louis has seen his expensive vests ripped off him, with fans even going as far as tickling him.

This, however, hasn't stopped him from putting on an incredible show. Despite only releasing two studio albums as a soloist (his second topping the Official UK Charts), he's pushing himself to the limits and playing arenas across the world. Most recently, he performed to around 21,000 fans at Manchester's AO Arena on November 11.

Walking onto the stage may be daunting for some, but Tomlinson showed no signs of fear as he opened with The Greatest – ironically, perhaps the greatest opening track. Throughout the night, he performed hits including Kill My Mind but also paying tribute to his One Direction days, belting out Drag Me Down and Where Do Broken Hearts Go. But since his pop days, Tomlinson has edged towards a more EDM and synth sound before finding his comfort in rockier tracks. He'd previously stated he'd taken inspiration from the likes of Sam Fender, Amy Winehouse, Arctic Monkeys and Manchester legends, Oasis.

Image: Mirrorpix/Daniel Bird

Nowadays, fans can expect the odd pop hit but also enjoy punk rock as well as indie pop and soft rock.

However, despite being in the business for almost 14 years, Louis remained grounded and acknowledged that Manchester was the start of his career. Between songs, he recalled his first audition for The X Factor in front of Simon Cowell, Scherzinger and Louis Walsh, being in the city. He told fans: "This is where I did my very first audition, so to be back here on my own it definitely feels full circle and I couldn't have done that without you.

#mirror uk #lt press #11.12.23 #fitfwt2023 manchester

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ghostlythunderbird · 1 year

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Alpha!Ghost and how he met his mate

Authors Note: Ok so this might be a bit rushed but I didnt wanna overfill this. Thanks to @l-lend who is now my forced beta reader XD for the ideas.

My work is not to be reposted, translated or used without my permission

Warnings: Drunk men, Fighting, Very uncomfortable situations (Hints of R*pe) dont worry Simon beats them up :)

Now ghost wasn’t one to ever play a hero, being a hero meant your actions are out there for everyone to see. He was never there, not a hero but a ghost that preys on those who try to live in the dark. He preferred it that way as it was something that made him who he was. The darkness was never his enemy to begin with; it was his friend.

But somehow by some miraculous chance he just so happened to be at the right place at the right time. The streets of Manchester were lonely when the sun started to set, only those who lived the night city life were the ones out. Hopping from bar to bar every few hours, all while traveling in well ordered packs; Mixes of Alphas and Betas forming the outer ring while the Omegas were always kept in the center.

He happened to be walking right by the backside of a popular nightclub when he heard it; A faint distressed chirp that echoed through the darkened space. He could have sworn his neck had damn near broken by how fast he had turned, His Alpha snarled; begging to investigate the source of the chirp. He looked all around the streets before entering the darkness, shadows engulfing him almost instantly.

Once he caught sight of the back door light he saw the source of the noise. You were backed into a corner with an alpha leaning over you, his two beta friends had their backs to you standing guard. Ghost could smell the alcohol from where he stood that billowed around the group. As he looked at you in more depth he could tell you were scared, the telltale signs of anxiousness were all there; trembling, elevated breathing, your eyes were wide and brimming with tears.

It broke his heart and made his skin boil with hatred, how dare this Alpha corner you and make you cry, and more importantly how DARE these Betas turn their back to this. It didn’t matter if they were drunk at this point, it was the fact that a drunk person’s words were their sober thoughts. The drunk Alpha leaned into your space even more before speaking “Awe come on now sweetheart, no need to cry right now I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Just that sentence alone made the hair on the back of Ghost’s neck stand up. His Alpha was snapping under the surface of his skin, murder is starting to get better and better for these three. Stepping forward towards the group gave him away “I suggest you leave her alone mate, she doesn’t want you near her.” The words growled out as they left Ghost's chest. Four heads whipped around to look at him. You couldn’t fully within the darkness to completely see the stranger who seemed to answer to your distressed chirp only minutes ago. But what you could see was his build and the menacing glow from the crudely printed skull on his mask. This alpha was easily bigger than the three knotheads put together.

“How about you mind your fucking business then ‘Mate’, come on little omega lets go somewhere where we cant be bothered.” The drunk alpha attempted to grab you, but you had already begun moving towards the shade covered alpha. You had almost reached the alpha before the Betas blocked your path “And where do you think you're going, pretty Omega?” One had slurred out, it made a shiver crawl up your spine. You needed to get out of here. Now.

Seeing the blockade these knotheads put up to try and stop you, Simon stepped forward grabbing one beta and shoved him back. “How bout’ you two take a hint, she doesn't want to be here.”

And well, let's just say after the other beta splashed their drink on him in an attempt to drive him off, it was an all out brawl. The first one down though was the Alpha, after seeing this bastard make you cry and keep you from leaving it's easy to say he was marked. It made Simon’s inner Alpha much happier after knocking a few teeth loose.

The Betas were not much of a fight compared to someone of Simon’s size, It was easy work and it honestly made him thank whatever god that he was born an Alpha just this once. In the end all three were on the ground and Simon got in a decent workout, He was still catching his breath as he looked over to you. In order to not get caught up in the fight you had backed up into the corner he had found you in originally, Your eyes were wide and if you were asked by anyone you'd say your eyes never once left the large Alpha. How would anyone believe you that this mysterious and quite frankly attractive Alpha came to your rescue out of nowhere anyway?

You were only snapped out of your stupor as the Alpha stepped over the groaning bodies on the ground, His already massive frame only continued to grow as he got closer to you. But unlike the Alpha on the ground, this one didn't make you feel uncomfortable even with all the eye makeup and the skull mask. But it did add on to his intimidation factor, and it wasn't all just for show as you had just seen.

“Are you ok?” He finally asked once he got close enough, His deep raspy voice made your knees weak. Looking up at him you were slightly thrown off as his eyes weren't as cold as they were with the Alpha and two Betas. From the black around his eyes you could tell they were a beautiful brown, it made you wonder what they looked like in the light. Realizing you were staring you sheepishly looked away “Y-yeah, thank you for all that.”

Simon looked you over ensuring that there was no damage to your person, it wasn't until he had seen you move away slightly did he realize he might be making you uneasy. Ducking his head to get a better view of your face “Let’s get you outta ‘ere then love, not a good place for someone like you eh?” Holding his hand out, he waited patiently for you to take hold and lead you away from the alley. Looking back Simon could tell all three men were completely out either from their drunkenness or the fact he purposely hit them in the head.

The two of you walked for a bit until he finally stopped you. “Should be easy for you to get home from here.” Slowly releasing your hand from his grip as he turned to face you, It was hard to look anywhere else as your eyes kept drawing him back in. It had him wondering what compelled him to even help you in the first place, something about you just seemed to pull him in.

He couldn’t place if it was just because you were an Omega or if there was something more there but he wasn’t about to complain. “Actually…..would you be able to walk me home?” It was a small request but mostly you wanted him to say yes so you could spend a little bit more time with this mysterious man. He was quiet for a bit before leaning down “Yeah I can do that love.”

You couldn’t help but let out a thrill, the smile you gave him could have rivaled a supernova with how bright it was. It made him feel like a live wire was loose under his skin, a rumble was caught in the back of his throat as he held out his arm for you to loop yours through.

Once you were both connected you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned into him. Reveling in how muscular he was, even if you couldn’t fully see now fit he actually was. “I hope this isn’t awkward but do you have a name?” Your question was a harmless one but it made Simon question what name he should give you. “Just call me Ghost.” His response was curt. Your brows furrowed as you risked a glance at the mask he wore.

“Ghost. Huh, what kind of person are you to get a name like that?” You joked. Simon angled his head a bit, he couldn’t give you the exact reason but he settled for something close to “Guess someone who does good in the dark.”

Your eyes lit up at his response “Well then I guess I can say you're my Saving Spector then!” You giggled. With that he couldn’t help but agree.

After the walk home you definitely gave him your number, the need to learn more about this mysterious Alpha was overwhelming you even over the tipsy feeling that buzzed throughout your body. Luckily you weren’t the only one either. Simon couldn’t help but run his thumb over the ink that spelled out your name and number. While he told himself it wasn’t something he should really push for, it couldn’t hurt to try. Besides who else was supposed to be your saving Spector but the Ghost himself?

Taglist: @kelpiesummer, @grizzersmamma, @fatedeniedhope

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost simpery to the max #omegaverse #Alpha Ghost #simon riley

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cher-rei · 2 months

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afterglow- pt.5 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff

[wc: 5.4k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

notes: it's finally here!! only took like 70 years.

a few months had passed since you were first employed. it was now late november, and oh boy had it been an interesting yet stressful few months not just for you, but the team as well.

robbo and thiago were out due to injuries, and there was no telling when they were coming back. your mum was breathing down your neck all the way from london, asking when you were finally coming to visit seen as it's been nearly a year, your nephew alex was sick with chicken pox and in order to stay in your healthy state you decided to stay with your dad for 2 weeks.

and now you were sitting in the booth beside clara, your knee bouncing up and down as you watched manchester city eat your team up alive with 30 minutes left on the clock.

how fun.

oh, and did I mention that you and trent hadn't gotten the opportunity to have a proper conversation in nearly 2 weeks...

it was going so well. there wasn't really telling what "it" was, but you felt it. you felt it whenever he smiled at you, whenever he replied to you story or commented on your Instagram posts, when he would ask you to join him for his session in the gym instead of taking your break in the cafeteria— and sure as hell when he gave you that look.

the one you caught him giving you from the other side of the room. even if you weren't looking you could feel his gaze boring into your head and it took every nerve in your body not to look back at him. you were too afraid of drowning yourself in even more delusions.

but that bit of time that you shared was cut short after a surprise appearance at the luton match two weeks prior.

the surprise was dressed in a liverpool jersey with trent's number at the back and by the look on his face when he saw, it didn't take a lot for you to realise that it was his jersey.

you don't even know how she got into the tunnel, but she didn't waste a second and jumped into his arms. you watched his facial expression flicker from utter confusion to slight hurt. but why?

she pulled away from the hug and beamed up at him, "did you miss me?"

that was a sign to keep your distance.

there wasn't anything going on between you anyway. perhaps just a slight moment, a flicker of something more, but it didn't last, and you didn't bother either.

before you knew it, the ref had finally blown the whistle for full-time not too long after trent managed to score a goal. that boy was nothing short of a miracle.

"I think we need to consider putting haaland into a temporary coma," you suggested jokingly as you followed ali and virgil through the tunnel and of course only ali found it somewhat funny, whereas virgil narrowed his eyes at you.

you raised your hands in defense, "I was kidding."

the team's captain let out an unconvincing hum and opened the changing room door for you to enter before the post-match interview. he continued to go on about how the team just wasn't on their a game today, meaning that their heads were all elsewhere.

"we were nervous that's all, and I'm sure the stats will be more of a tell tale for that," he said and sat down on the bench with a sigh.

you let out a scoff, "save that for the interview not me. but seriously," your face scrunched in slight emphathy, "they were practically walking through you."

virgil sat up at the comment and was just about to answer when someone else chimed in. "first of all!"

your head dropped at the sound of cutis' voice as he entered the room. "you try running around for 90 minutes with expectations as big as virgil's forehead."

the room fell silent, and you immediately expected virgil to have curtis stuffed inside one of the lockers, but to everyone's surprise, he just nodded in agreement.

after a few minutes of banter, virgil left for the post-match interview, leaving everyone else to gather their things and get them to the bus which you were more than delighted to do. it had been a tiring week, work hours were insane even though you were barely at the office.

if you weren't prepping for the extra content that you'd be shooting the following week, then you were making phone calls to sponsors, answering journalists, finalising any media content that needed to put out on time or overseeing practices then you were sleeping.

even now as you were sitting on the bus beside dominik, while your eyes averted their focus from your laptop that was situated on your lap to your phone in your hand with clara's chat open.

"okay, I see you, multitasker," he said with an impressed chuckle that managed to make your eyes roll. he leaned over your shoulder a bit to get a better look at the email displayed on your laptop screen.

"dear ms carter," he began with mock enthusiasm. "regarding my previous email blah blah-- boring."

you couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his lack of interest, knowing very well how he felt. "is this all you do? reply to boring emails?"

your nose scrunched in disagreement at the question. "without these boring emails you'd be living in shambles. and besides," a sigh escaped your lips as you finished typing your response. "my job is more than just emails. I get to travel, I get to meet awesome people--"

"--awesome people like me of course," dominik interjected with a grin and you pursed your lips.

"I was talking about literally anyone else."

"she was talking about me!" mo yelled from the back and you nodded in absolute agreement.

"so are you making the trip or not?"

you've been on the same phone call for the past ten minutes, trying to be reasonable with someone as stubborn as a 7-year-old before their bedtime on a friday.

and you were starting to think that winning this battle was pointless, because he'd get his way regardless.

"I have a busy schedule, bro I've been telling you this. I start filming today and--"

"--you can take two days off jamie. please."

you let out an exasperated sigh as you stepped out onto the training field, where the camera crew were setting up, and giving the team a rundown of how today was going to play out.

"I still have a job to do you know? just because they're not playing doesn't mean I don't have things to do," your answer came out more sarcastic than you intended but he just wasn't listening.

"you're lucky that I didn't ask for you to stay the entire month and asked for a weekend instead. I'd be happy with anything at this point."

okay, he had a point there. and you were starting to get fed up with this back and forth, knowing that you weren't going to get your way.

you barely found time for yourself, but now that you though about it an off weekend didn't sound too bad.

you let out a sigh, "I still need to go back home to london to see my mum."

a loud bang echoed through the receiver end, "you'll find time to see her. the flight is already booked, you'll be gone by tuesday and back for thursday for your match. you won't be missing out."

once again, there was no point in arguing so you just hummed in response, a ghost of a smile present on your lips. "you better make that week worth it."

what was the point in staying for a few days? might as well stay from the tuesday till the following monday. you already told jurgen about it, complaining about how persistent the boy was being but the team's manager wasn't helping your case and instead suggested that you go.

"don't be boring jamie. it's not like we're going to die on this side without you."

"week??" the excitement was evident in his voice, and you tried so hard to fight back a smile, but what came next was enough to make you beam.

"that goal will be for you, i promise. i'll even do some stupid shit to make sure everyone knows that it's for you."

fucking sweet talker.

"shut up, I'm leaving bye."

when you ended the call, you were immediately called over by one of the directors so you could be miced up. you spent a few minutes running through the agenda for the team's newest series, Up! The Reds!

it took forever to think of a good name so don't even. you had the entire media team sit in for a meeting just for a good title until you just settled for this one. it was a process okay...

every week, along with Inside Training, an episode of at least 30 minutes would be uploaded where the team would compete in various challenges and games against each other with you as a host. so for this week's episode, you figured that you'd start out with a field day segment.

three legged races, sack races, an egg and spoon race, and musical chairs.

nothing like grown men doing preschool field day challenges.

spamjam._. added to their story

"welcome to the first episode of Up! The Reds!"

you heard a snort from the group of boys on either side of you. "that's the title?" curtis called out, trying to suppress his laughter and you forced a smile at the camera.

"how about you stop talking and let me do my job?" you asked passive-aggressively, the smile deepening into that of irritation and he quickly apologised and cleared his throat, ushering for you to continue.

when you were finally done with the introduction, you had everyone play a quick of rock paper scissors to split them into pairs for the first game, the three legged race.

"okay so we have kostas and macca, mo and ibou--" a laugh escaped your lips as you paired the two up and handed them the bandana, ibou taking it with a heavy sigh and a head shake.

he walked mo's way, complaining about how he was going to have him dragging on the floor but everyone was too busy laughing to even consider that slight issue. "It's for the entertainment, it's fine," virgil spoke up and pat him on the back.

you cleared your throat and got back to reading out the groups with a smile. "dom and jarell, cody and darwin, ali and virgil- oh I love that. joe and endo, and lastly curtis and shorty."

harvey walked past you with a look of disgust, obviously having to look up at you. "I hate you."

"what?" you bent down a bit and put you hand to your ear. "I can't hear you."

that had the entire media crew doubling over, and you couldn't help but feel a swarm of warmth spread through your chest. you didn't quite know why, but you didn't ponder and let the moment flow naturally.

once everyone had calmed down, you clutched tighter onto the last bandana in your hand when trent spoke up. "what about me?"

a smile drew to your lips and you lifted the bandana in your hand, waving it from side to side. "you're with me. it's bonding time. literally."

it didn't take too long for everyone to actually get into the line. the winners would be decided via process of elimination, two pairs at a time until there was a winning team. nothing complicated. the first pairs to compete with each other were ali and virgil, and kostas and macca.

the rest of the team sat along the side to watch the race, cameras out and excited smiles while they cheered for their teammates. the distance that they were wasn't too long you hoped, but you needed something good enough for their too be a struggle.

"ready... set... go!" you blew your whistle and they were off with waddles and screams of struggle. it was a mess right from the get-go and you loved every bit of it.

you watched as virgil and ali struggled, and surprisingly kostas and macca were in the lead.

while they screamed and tried to find a rhythm, nearly tipping over multiple times, kostas and macca's counting could be heard as they kept their determined eyes on the ground. "one, two. one, two. one, two."

the early afternoon air was filled with laughter and screaming as everyone enjoyed the array of games that were set out for them. from an absolute mess, and nearly breaking their legs in the three-legged race, and to the smart idea of playing catch with am egg, to endo rolling around in the sack to finish line instead of hopping, and to the wwe showdown of musical chairs that you won.

"you cheater," trent said as he got up from the floor while you sat on the last chair, a proud smile on your face as the rest of the team applauded you.

he walked over to you with a smile of disbelief, trying to argue his point. "you can't kick the chair away and throw me to the floor. that's such a foul."

you shrugged innocently, "tactics my boy."

you wrapped up filming after 4 hours, and you were happy to say that everyone had a good time. it was finally time to go home though, and you needed a shower immediately.

you bid your goodbyes to everyone and hopped into your car without a second thought, your mind drifting off until you got home to hear the most heartwarming call of your name.

"jamie!"

"alex!"

when you were done settling in for the evening, as usual, you spent some time cutting down on the clips of today's filming before you could send them back to the filming crew for final editing. you sat at your desk with one leg up on your chair covered by a blanket and some snacks as you watched through the clips.

you caught yourself laughing more than you hoped. you thought back to your time in the field during all of this, and a smile drew to your lips, then you felt your eyes fixate on someone. your eyes unknowingly followed his every motion, watching as the distance between the two of you decreased as you spoke to each other.

it felt a bit awkward at first when you partnered up with trent but as time progressed the atmosphere eased back into its comfortability. in the moment it didn't feel like much because your mind was occupied with other things but now that you were watching everything back, you could get a closer look at certain things. and then you caught it.

the look.

you were trying to help darwin get the egg on the spoon, standing nowhere near trent but his eyes were on you. a glint of something in his eyes. but that was the issue.

it was only something. the feeling was frustrating, and it was worse that you couldn't even act on it. he had a girlfriend or whatever she was. her name was skylar, and judging by the look robbo gave her the day she came back— she must've done something wrong.

normally you would let this thing with trent play out and entertain it out of curiosity but you had to push your feelings to the side and suck up whatever pride you had and accept that he had someone... kind of.

a heavy sigh left your lips and you ran your fingers through your hair. "fucking hell jamie."

just as you were about to shut off your pc and take refuge under your bed covers, your phone began to ring. it was almost pitiful to see how quickly you answered the call the second you saw it was trent.

"hey, are you busy?"

your breath hitched at the sound of his voice.

pathetic.

your eyes roamed your room in contemplation. "uh, no. I just finished cutting down some clips for editing." you blinked a few times at the silence, "why?"

trent's chuckle vibrated through the speaker and you swear you could feel it in your stomach. "I just felt like calling you."

your eyes widened a fraction. "oh."

OH????

"yeah." there was a beat of silence, neither of you knowing what to say. "do you want to go for a drive?"

#trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer imagine #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #footballer x reader #liverpool x reader #fanfic #football imagine #footballer x you #trent alexander arnold fanfic #afterglow trent alexander arnold #friends to lovers #cherrei writes

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liesmyth · 1 month

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top 5 royjamie / ted lasso fics!

picking 5 was like pulling teeth. I probably left out many faves but as we know the economy is tough rn

let it come down by @antspaul, amazing showstopping exceptional 1970s AU that is SO immersive and SO bittersweet and I need to go lie down just thinking about it.

One cold Manchester night in 1978, good-for-nothing Jamie Tartt comes across his childhood hero at a punk show.

the rookie by @belmottetower & @scoatneyhall. I'm being soo brave and limiting myself to only one Bel&Hall fic and I pick this one because of the untapped endless potential of S2 AUs! This is Roy & Jamie with background Roy/Keeley and I enjoy the dynamic A Lot

“Well now, back home, our friends in the NHL have this little tradition that I think might just be the solution to our problems. Sometimes, when a rookie is signed to a team, especially a younger player, someone who maybe needs a guiding hand, a bit of looking out for, they’ll move in with the captain, right into his home, when they first start out. Obviously Jamie isn’t new new, but he definitely needs a guiding hand. So how about it?” Roy stares in disbelief. “Fuck off. This is a joke, right?” (Roy and Jamie move in together)

Roy Kent's Dramatic but Inevitable Jamie Tartt Induced Bisexual Awakening by chelicerata. There's no description I can offer that will make this fic justice. Go read it!

When Roy’s world gets turned upside down, it’s because of Jamie. Fucking typical.

therefore, dark past, by @mykingdomforapen Gen! Jamie-cenytric. THEEE definitive Jamie & his dad fic (written pre S3), to me. It's so multifaceted and human and I love the ending very much.

“Christ, Jamie, he’s dying,” Dad said. His voice did something weird–it hitched. “What, you’re gonna pencil him in your busy celebrity schedule? Squeeze your own granddad in between your ickle interviews and your fancy dinner dates? My old man is fucking dying.” OR: Jamie breaks the cycle.

tied up in this yoga knot by @reinvent-and-believe. This is a 5 times / slice of life / getting together post-canon fic and it's guaranteed to improve my mood every time I read it.

The absolute worst person Roy can imagine meeting the yoga mums is Jamie Tartt. Not to mention, Jamie would inevitably pick up on how many hours Roy spent drinking rosé and glaring daggers as Jamie fucked his way through the cast of Lust Conquers All. And that sounds fucking exhausting.

#Anonymous #askbox games #fic recs #ted lasso #royjamie #ted lasso fic #this isn't comprehensive of all my faves but it's A Start :3

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buckychristwrites · 10 months

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When the Rain Gathers | Prologue | j.t.

↳ Pairing: Jamie Tartt x f!reader

↳ Word Count: 2k

↳ Summary: Pain hits like a downpour, but when a heartbreak from your past is what greets you at your new job at Nelson Road Stadium, it's more like a catastrophic tsunami.

↳ Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Discussion of parental abuse, fluff and angst.

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Early August, 2017

“Do you have to go?”

“I do. Or else I’ve wasted a lot of money on a flat and new furniture.”

It was pouring outside, but that didn’t stop you from standing in the drive of your boyfriend’s house. Your car was packed to the brim with belongings, not leaving any space to see out the rear windscreen. He was standing with you, his hair matted to his forehead from the rain. The air was a weird mix of cold and hot, or maybe it was just you.

You reached out to brush the locks back into place. As your hand fell back to your side, he caught it in his.

“Why’d ya have to go all the way to fuckin’ Harvard for uni?” Jamie asked loudly so you could hear him over the rain pounding on the sidewalk.

“Because they have the best Psychology program,” You explained, though you weren’t able to say it with your entire chest. Two years had been spent at the University of Manchester, and while you had dreamt of the opportunity to go to the United States to finish your degree at Harvard, you never allowed yourself to believe it would actually happen. And now it was, with a full scholarship at that. While you were beyond excited, there was a lot to consider, and lot you were leaving behind.

Jamie, using your hand that he was still holding, pulled you towards him.

“I’m gonna miss the fuck out of ya,” He said gently, pressing his forehead against yours. You tried to smile playfully.

“It’ll pass. You’ll be too busy being a football star soon enough,” You muttered, averting his eyes. That was what had ruined the plan. Jamie had every intention to move to the US with you, even signing the lease to the flat with you and starting the process of packing up his belongings. What brought that to a screeching halt was the call from Man City.

They were putting him on the team. A starting striker, at that.

His days in the Ametuar League were finally behind him at the worst possible time.

Despite the immense pride you felt for him, you also were devastated over the change of plans. It was going to feel impossible. Going from seeing him every day to only seeing him when the both of you had the money and free time to travel internationally, which wouldn’t be as often as either of you would like.

The last year flashed through your mind. A lifetime was how long you had known Jamie Tartt, having been neighbors for as long as you could remember. But it was only just over a year ago that the festering feelings the two of you had been building for each other finally came to a head. He knew every piece of you, the good and the bad, and you him. The amount of laughs spent, the amount of tears on each other's shoulders, the amount of pointless arguments that ended with flowers from his mum’s garden scattered on your doorstep, they felt countless in this moment.

It still didn’t feel like enough time. You found yourself yearning for another hour. Even another minute.

“Any parting words?” You asked him, giving his hand a squeeze. He cocked his head to the side.

“You’re gonna kill it at uni,” He mumbled, taking another step closer so there were no steps left between you and him. “Don’t get in ya head too much. You’re better than all of ‘em.”

Despite the rain, you felt the warm dampness streaming down your cheeks. You tried to wipe away the tears, but they just kept falling.

“Are you still gonna call me before every match?” You asked, voice choked up from the pain. He looked so calm. Something about it killed you.

“I’ll have to, since ya won’t be at them.”

“What if you have a pa-“

“I’ll call ya over paint dryin’, if ya want.” You laughed, shaking your head. For a long moment, you stared at your car. The one that you were driving for the last time. It wasn’t all that long ago that Jamie went with you to pick it out. The memory was vivid in your mind.

“What am I going to do without you?”

This is where he kissed you, pulling you in with his hands pressed to your cheeks. The intention for both of you was clear: This kiss had to count, because who knows when you’ll get to do it again?

“You’ll always have me,” He said against your lips, as if he wasn’t knew he needed to say something but wasn’t ready to end the kiss just yet. he needed to speak but couldn’t bear to end the kiss. When his lips finally left yours, he smiled softly, though his eyes were wet. “I just won’t be next door anymore.”

Your teeth were chattering while staring at him, but you didn’t complain. The anxiety ate away at your chest.

Though the redness in his eyes suggested it wasn’t the time, Jamie laughed as he opened the door to your car, giving you a sad smile as he rested his hand on the rim of the doorframe.

“Can’t stand here all day, can we?” He said quietly.

It was overwhelming how real it all became in that moment. You threw your arms around his neck, his arms instinctively wrapping around your torso. His clothes were soaked through, as were yours. There wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t unaffected by the rain, but you couldn’t seem to allow yourself to get in the car.

Suddenly, Jamie was moving, forcing you to go with him. Your feet backed up as he moved himself forward so you wouldn’t fall. Your knees hit the side of the driver’s seat, and suddenly Jamie was lowering you down.

“You’re gonna miss ya flight.”

You shook your head before saying, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He closed his eyes as he said, “I’ll miss ya too.”

The pain was searing through your chest and down your back as he shut the door. You were desperate for one last kiss, but you knew what his eyes were telling you. One more would just lead to two. And then three. And then you would never leave.

Finally, after lagging behind for too long, you turned the engine to the car on, your hands working in slow motion while you shifted into reverse. As you drove away, Jamie walked out into the street and waved. You wondered if he would run after the car, and found yourself disappointed when he didn’t. Instead, he continued to watch, hands in his pockets. Tears and rain water dripped onto the seat between your legs as you watched him through the rearview.

Jamie got smaller and smaller as you drove away, until the road began to slope, and he disappeared from sight.

Early August, 2020

You woke up alone.

The right side of your bed was empty. When you felt the sheets, they were cold, suggesting they had been bare for a while now.

With an arm holding the sheet to your chest, you sat up quickly. Your eyes were baggy and drooping, but you were alert.

“Jamie?”

Your feet hit the floor, which was no longer littered with his clothes, though yours still remained scattered. As you left the bedroom, you listened for any signs of life. Maybe he was simply having a shower, or making himself a bite to eat. But no such evidence could be heard. The only sound echoing through the flat was rain hitting the windows. Panic rose inside your chest.

“Jamie…”

In an instant, you were down the hallway and entering the living room.

Empty.

His shoes by the front door had disappeared.

He’s out to pick up coffee, or breakfast, you told yourself. Or maybe he just went for a walk to explore.

It wasn’t like him. To just disappear.

Although, the Jamie who had arrived on your doorstep the morning prior really wasn’t the Jamie you had known since you were in nappies.

Despite your nonexistent free time since starting your masters degree in sports psychology, you did your best to continue to follow Jamie’s rising football career on the other side of the Atlantic ocean. He was now quite the commodity in England, though still relatively unknown in the United States. It was strange, getting a different reaction from your university friends’ to your boyfriend versus from people back home.

As his stardom went up, however, your relationship with him seemed to do the opposite. It was now normal to go a week without hearing from him at all. A rare day in hell it was when he answered your phone calls, and usually they were brief. He didn’t keep his promise of calling before every match. In fact, he didn’t keep his promise of calling at all, because he simply didn’t. You tried to be understanding, but only so many excuses could be made for him, as you were also incredibly busy.

When an opening appeared in his schedule that aligned with your own, it felt like an Olympic event to convince him to make the trip. Once he finally agreed, that was when you began to feel excited, yet also anxious about it. It was, in your mind, a last ditch effort to save the relationship.

It wasn’t until this moment, as you came back from your thoughts, that you noticed his suitcase was also gone.

Sprinting back to your bedroom, almost tripping on the sheet multiple times as it covered your naked body, you ripped your phone from the wall. The tears had started leaking out long before you had the chance to hit his name to phone him.

Straight to voicemail.

Hanging up, you dialed again. Same result. When you tried to send a text, the text bubble immediately turned green.

Blocked.

Anger swallowed you whole, your chest heaving. Without really thinking about it, you dialed him again. It went to voicemail for a third time, but you didn’t hang up.

It’s Jamie. Don’t bother. I don’t care.

“So that’s it then?” You said to his voicemail box, knowing damn well he’d never receive it. “Twenty three years of friendship, just down the fucking drain? Never mind four years of that being in a fucking relationship. You piece of shit. You absolute fucking piece of shit.”

You stared at the floor, feverishly shaking your head.

“I guess the word from home about how much you changed is true. Never wanted to believe it but… I’ve been thoroughly enlightened, thank you.”

You swiped a hand against your cheeks.

“Are the cheating rumours true then too? Might as fucking well be, right? Fuck you, Jamie. I really thought we could salvage this. When I saw you at the airport, I…” You were properly crying now, unable to hide the sobs from your voice. “All of those feelings came rushing back to me. I felt like I was nineteen again, and we were back home. Just two kids who loved each other. It felt that simple. Like all it took was seeing each other again to make things okay. Wrong again.”

You had run into his arms in picturesque movie fashion, and he had held you for a long time. Did he know then? Did he get off the plane knowing he was going to destroy you?

You straightened your back out and cleared your throat.

“Don’t worry. I don’t fucking need you. And you’ll never hear from me again. Fuck you, Jamie Tartt. Absolutely fuck you. I deserve so much better than this.”

Once the call ended, you threw your phone on the bed and allowed yourself to feel it all, the anger and melancholy washing over you like a wave crashing onto the coastline in a thunderstorm. Bum hitting the floor, you curled your knees to your chest and rested your forehead on them. Your entire body shook with tears, and it stayed that way for a solid hour before you stiffly stood and moved to your bed.

That was the last time you tried to get a hold of Jamie, though it was not the last time you thought of him.

And as life moved on, you never ended up seeing him again.

Until now.