#mancunian always

[fliponline]

Red or Blue? City or United?

Today the two biggest teams in Manchester meet on home turf. Whichever colour you are, which ever end of the Mancunian Way you head to after the match, we’re all Mancunian Always!

Lazarusheart at @Redbubble…

🔴 https://bit.ly/lazmanc

#lazarusheart #redbubble #manchester #mancunian #mancunian always #manchester united #utd #mufc #manchester city #manchester city fc #mcfc #manc #manchester bee

[postmortemnivis]

nobody knew simon’s name, his cold glances penetrating souls whenever someone on the force even dared to call him by his first name. he preferred it this way. he wasn’t the kind to blend personal life and work, he didn’t want to look at himself in the mirror without his mask and still see a murderer. his hands were clean, protected by the gloves ghost slipped on each time he reached base. it was soon that the other soldiers almost forgot his name, agreeing that their lieutenant was indeed a ghost.

that was until your worried voice called for him.

you didn’t know of the ghost identity, it had never even crossed your mind that your simon, your sweet and caring boyfriend’s personality would switch into a cold blooded killer as soon as he set foot at base or in the field. of course he never mentioned it with you, he sporadically talked about his job and his missions. you knew he was a strict lieutenant, but you had been kept away from more by the person with the skull mask and balaclava.

“simon?” you asked for the third time the receptionist. she apologetically looked up at you and shrugged. “oh cmon, simon riley. i know for a fact that he’s here. please, i need to see him.”

“i’m very sorry miss but…” the woman shook her head again, “let me call the captain.”

you sighed and sat down by the waiting area until a man walked in and talked to the woman.

“who’re you looking for?”

you stood up. “simon. simon riley.”

“ghost?”

you shook your head, almost clueless. “no, simon riley.”

“yeah, that’s him…” he said, “he’s training the recruits now. shall i deliver a message?”

“no, i need to see him personally. i wouldn’t have come all the way here if it wasn’t important, captain.”

you'd seen price a few times, simon's loyalty to the man was almost like a dog's one, always following orders and rarely complaining. he often talked about him when he was at home, all he shared with you about his threatening job was the friends he made along the way: johnny, kyle, price, gary, nikolai. he'd often go out for a pint—or two—with johnny and kyle, who also occasionally would come to your shared apartment for dinner with their temporary girlfriends.

"follow me." price sighed. you eagerly followed him, as close as his shadow, and the courtyard came into sight. dozens and dozens of soldiers in scarlet training uniforms were running laps of the immense open space under the pale sun, and that's when you spotted a tall and muscular man in black tactical gear. hell, he was hard to miss.

"another lap, smith!" his mancunian accent was stronger than his will to neutralise it. "if my gran was alive she'd be faster than ya."

you'd recognised the voice, of course, even if it was much harsher than usual, but you couldn't recognise him.

you realised, that was ghost. his cold eyes were studying each of the recruit's tired and red faces, his arms behind his back as he barked for five more laps for the ones who didn't look sweaty enough. even his voice was different, but what shocked you was the black balaclava with the white skull drawn on top.

you'd seen the mask once or twice over the years, shoved on the bottom of his duffle bag or drying on a windowsill, but you've never given it much thought, why would you?

"si?" you asked, standing directly behind him as price stood a few feet from you.

his head snapped in your direction at a worryingly fast speed, his eyes immediately becoming soft, then confused.

"what're you doin' here?" his voice spoke, much sweeter.

you kept staring at him, not recognising the man you loved.

he immediately grabbed the crown of the balaclava and yanked it off without a second though. holding the black piece of clothing in his hand, both of them came to cup your elbows, drawing you closer to him.

"love?" he called you.

still at loss of words, you reached to the balaclava and twirled it between your fingers.

"love, talk to me." his voice sounded worried.

"ghost?"

he shook his head. "simon, love."

"we'll talk about that at home." you raised your eyebrows, attempting a smile.

he looked at you impatiently, his fingers brushing up and down your forearms.

you fished in your bag a small plastic bag and gave it to him.

this wasn't like one of the times when he'd forget his lunch at home so you'd drop by and give it to johnny so he'd give it to an always so busy simon ghost; he could see it in your eyes that this was something more.

he unwrapped the plastic bag that you had rolled up on itself. his eyes looked brighter than ever when he took with shaky fingers the finally positive pregnancy test.

#simon ghost riley #simon and ghost are two diff people #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 21] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 23]

Pairing: Ghost x Price || Price x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K cw: drunk kissing, cheating (mentioned) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we find out what happened in cardiff. i love vulnerable john.

Chapter 22: What is it about you?

“C’mon, Boss, up you go.” Simon told him as he hoisted the man up to his feet by wrapping an arm around the small of his back, and tossing the other over his own shoulders.

“I don’t know how she could do that to me, Simooooon,” John’s words and feet dragged a bit and tripped over each other, uncoordinated due to the excess alcohol.

John was constantly self-sabotaging back then, feeling sorry for himself, mourning his relationship and the wife who took advantage of his common absences to justify her need to step out on him.

When John was sober and busy with work, he was still the same as always: deadly efficient, a good communicator, a great strategist…

But when they went on leave…

It left Simon having to be the one picking up the pieces. Simon’s moved to Cardiff from Manchester many years ago, not quite enjoying Hereford enough to want an off-base flat in the same city as the base, and, now that he’s separated, John’s also moved to Cardiff to stay on Simon’s couch.

Or it would be his couch if he didn’t get pissed every night and leave Simon fearing for his life and the fact he might vomit and suffocate in it in the night, so he carries him to bed every time. The bed might as well have been John’s at that point.

Somehow he was able to wrangle John back to his flat.

He helped the man get into his bedroom and lowered him into bed before he pulled off the beanie from his head, then his boots, tossing his legs onto the bed a bit aggressively while the captain sobbed while lying back on the pillows…

“You’ll be alright, Captain.” Simon always tried to say some kind words to ease the drunk, heartbroken man, though he knew it did little.

Simon was strangely thankful Price was a sad drunk instead of an angry or violent one like his own father.

Simon bent over him to unzip his jacket and then was able to curl the man up against his shoulder in order to shimmy his jacket down his arms, like a toddler.

But something about that touch, almost akin to a hug, awoke something in John.

Just as he lowered the older man’s torso down to the bed and his head onto the pillows, he suddenly found himself unable to move, his shoulders being hugged tight by one of John’s arms.

His face was inches from John’s, their noses almost touching, their eyes locked. John’s blue irises were glassy from the alcohol and the tears.

The look in John’s eyes was freaking him out. He was still crying, but he was eerily quiet, not murmuring utter nonsense or pure vitriol for his wife and her lover…

The Mancunian tried to slip John’s arms off him. “C’mon.” He grumbled as he craned his neck back to try and wrangle off the embrace.

“Stay…” John pleaded, his eyes softening, his brows lowered pitifully.

“I’m right here, Boss.” Simon assured him as he once again tried to take Price’s arm off his vise-like grip around him.

It didn’t work. The grip just got tighter, his body trembling beneath Simon’s. “Please, stay...” He implored.

Before Simon could realize what was happening, his lips had been captured by John’s, a slow, tender thing, almost like John himself wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing (and he really wasn’t) but wanted to do it nonetheless.

There was no tongue action, just a rubbing of lips and an exchanging of breathy sighs before Simon was smart enough to pull away, eyes a bit widened for what they had just done. 

But Price seemed like he was still on the verge of crying, teetering the edge of his fear of being rejected again. He just needed affection....

Simon’s own eyes softened as he saw the state Price was in. He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. Giving up on getting out of the embrace, he simply nodded. “Fine. I’m stayin’.”

Carefully, Simon toed off his own shoes and took off his fleece jacket. He tossed everything on the floor haphazardly, before he shifted around the bed in John’s embrace and vaulted over him, coming to lay on the other side of the bed.

John cuddled up to Simon’s body and, tentatively, the blond wrapped his arms around Price’s shoulders and neck as the brunet sunk in the embrace and hid his mustachioed face in Simon’s neck, big burly arms wrapped around the narrower part of his waist.

Price resumed his sobbing, hidden in Simon’s arms, hugging him uncomfortably tight, like a lifeguard buoy in open water. 

Simon ran his fingers over John’s hair, caressing his scalp with his fingertips. “Not going anywhere, John, I promise.” Simon assured him.

-

It’s 10 P.M. and you’re just turning off your TV to move your lounging to the bedroom when the doorbell rings.

Once again, you’re not expecting anyone… But the lads have gotten much better at warning you in advance when they’re dropping by… So it puts you on edge again.

Tip-toeing to the intercom, you murmur into the receiver. “What?”

“It’s John, darling.” The voice of the older man comes through, causing your eyes to widen. What’s he doing here? 

You buzz him in all the same. Only once you hear his knuckles rapping the door, do you open it, finding him standing on the other side.

He’s wearing an army green fleece jacket, a black hoodie, tan cargo pants, and black boots. And he doesn’t look particularly happy.

You let him inside and he has the decency to take off his boots, jacket and beanie, before he gestures you both onto the couch.

The memory of the way he kissed you and tossed you both down onto it last time he was here comes flowing back and you look away and take a breath to suppress it.

“The lads told me about the four of you” He tells you as he looks at you, sitting by your side, your knees just barely brushing, his hands clasped together and hanging between his thighs.

“They did?” You ask him, earning a nod in reply. “You didn’t know this whole time?” You ask again.

“No.” He says simply. “And they didn’t tell you I tore ‘em a new one for what they’re doing?” He returns. 

You shake your head, which makes him sigh. “Figured as much.”

“You need to know that-”

“I promise I don’t-”

You both cut each other off and blink away the confusion before you do that weird shimmy of trying to let the other talk.

He ends up taking the initiative. “You need to know that it’s puttin’ ‘em all at risk to be seein’ you and each other, especially each other. Simon’s my second-in-command… and it’s against the code of conduct for ‘em to be with their ‘boss’.” He explains.

His explanation makes your eyes soften and you look away with a sigh, mirroring his pose and letting your hands hang between your legs. “I didn’t know it’d get ‘em in trouble…” You explain.

Taking another deep breath, you shift around in your seat. “I was about to say I promise I don’t want to get them in trouble or steal them from work or making you have to call like… dozens of times again to get them to come in, because I know that was bad, even if it was an accident but-” You rant a bit.

John’s watching you closely as you justify yourself and them and promise you have the best of intentions, how you like them all so much and you could never dream of getting them in trouble and…

“What is it about you?” He interrupts you, causing you to face him suddenly and stare at him.

“Pardon?” You ask him, blinking slowly before raising your brows.

“Why… Why them? All of them?” He asks.

Your face scrunches a bit, your brow setting over your eyes. “Are you trying to insult me? That feels insulting.” You grumble.

He sighs and shakes his head, before rubbing his eyes with his middle finger. “No. I- I’m sorry.” He says as earnestly as he can. “Just trying to understand.”

“Some people have a thing for men in uniform but that means they date multiple of ‘em across a number of years… They don’t usually form a… harem with ‘em all at once.” He explains.

The idea of a harem makes your face flush warm and look away. “I don’t know.” You reply directly. “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.” You say directly. 

John keeps staring at you as you speak. “I went from a very unfulfilling relationship, I don’t know if I ever mentioned that to you-”

“You did, at the pub.”

“Right, well…” You trail off. “I went from that to… being alone… and then to having a one-night stand with you and then… it was like I woke up one day and had three boyfriends.” You remark and scratch your arm awkwardly.

John’s face scrunches, his mouth disappearing beneath his mustache as he keeps looking at you closely, noticing how awkward you seem. 

“I really don’t want to get them in trouble…” You tell him as you glance up at him, the corners of your eyebrows lowering as you look at him.

He goes quiet for a moment, simply making eye contact with you, as if trying to read your intentions through your pupils.

Then, his hand reaches across the space between you and he gently cups both your hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You really like ‘em all, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You reply and nod.

Sighing, he nods. “Just try to keep from kissing in public to a minimum, will ya? Don’t need the brass knowing and having my arse too.” He tells you.

Smiling and chuckling again. “Wouldn’t you, in that case, be in more trouble because you started this whole thing?” You joke.

He nudges your thigh with his knee and rolls his eyes playfully. “Don’t you start, too… I already had to deal with Soap, Gaz and Ghost making comments.” He complains.

“Oh, please… Ghost told me all about how peppy you seemed after that night you spent with me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes again before he taps his thighs with his palms and stands up off the couch.

“I needed it. Did me good.” He replies as he moves back to the door and puts his shoes on.

You follow after him, watching him closely as he puts his outdoor clothes back on. “Did me good too.” You reply.

He chuckles a bit. “Oh, trust me, darlin’, I remember fully well how ‘good’ I did you.” He jokes and winks at you.

“Oh, shut it…” You grumble as you watch him open your door and stand just outside of it, looking at you closely.

“Shame it’ll never happen again. I could’ve used a repeat.” John quips casually. “Have a goodnight.” He kisses your temple and starts walking down the hall.

“Wait, hold on!” You interrupt him, causing him to stop a few feet away, looking at you in the brightly lit hall. Clearing your throat, you swallow dryly before you lock eyes with him and speak again: “What’s stopping it from happening again?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FLASHBACK FULLY INSPIRED BY:

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x price #john price x reader #Spotify

[glittergoblinzz]

Ghoap (well, Cbf!Soap mainly) asking Afab!Reader to be their surrogate (pt 1)

CW: Talks of surrogacy/pregnancy

-----------------------------------------

The last thing you expected when you came home after work one day was your friend Johnny sitting on your couch. You two have been friends since childhood and have been inseparable, even after he joined the military. You trusted the man with your life and would let him come over whenever he felt like it, going as far as giving him an extra key to your flat in Sunderland.

At first, you thought something bad must have happened since you could see he was clearly stressed about something. You drop your bag down and go over to the couch, sitting next to him

"Johnny, what are ya doing here? Is something wrong?"

He looks up at you with those crystal blue eyes, running a hand through his mohawk.

"Nah, there's nothing wrong per say, but...there is somethin' I need to ask ya, lass. Somethin' big...."

"What is it?"

Johnny pauses, unsure of how to ask this. After a moment, a voice from behind you two speaks up. A deep, gravely voice with a Mancunian accent. The unexpected voice causes you to jump slightly and turn around. It was Johnny's husband, Simon. Johnny had told you about him numerous times but you had never gotten to meet him in person before. His brown eyes bore down at you. It was hard to tell what exactly he was thinking but from the tone of his voice and how blunt he was, it was clear he wasn't exactly happy.

"He wants to know if you'd be our surrogate."

This makes you pause. They want you to be their surrogate? The MacTavishs? Really? You understand that you and Johnny are good friends and all, but you figured they would have gone through an agency or even adopted instead. You look back at Johnny, who was giving Simon a bit of a look himself.

"Johnny, is this true?"

Johnny turns back to you and his face softens quite a bit before he looks down at the ground.

"Aye...it's true, lass. I know this is a really, really big favour to ask, but...."

Johnny looks back up at you and gently grabs your hand.

"Could ya do this for us? We'll pay ya, take care of ya. Simon's done took a step back from the military for this next part of our lives so you'll always have at least one of us around at all times."

The look of desperation in Johnny's eyes makes your heart break for him a little bit. You knew he's always wanted to be a dad one day, have a family of his own. You fold your arms over your chest and lean back into the couch a bit, thinking it over....

"If I do this for you....how would we be doing this? Do you already have an egg from a donor? Are you just needing me to carry your child for you?"

Johnny sighs

"No. We'd be hoping ya wouldn't mind doing it....the ol' fashioned way...."

"The old fashioned way...? You mean... You'd sleep with me to knock me up?"

Before Johnny could say anything else, Simon interjects.

"No. Not him. I'd be doing it..."

You look up at Simon, clearly shocked. You barely knew this man and here he was saying that he'd be the one sleeping with you. You've only heard tidbits about him from Johnny. Sure, Johnny made him out to be a good man who liked to crack jokes and was a pretty laid back guy but from this first encounter, he doesn't seem like that at all. This made you extremely hesitant to help your friend out in starting his family....

Seeing the look of worry on your face, Johnny clears his throat causing you to look back at him again.

"Don't mind him, lass. He's just a bit....protective. Simon doesn't feel comfortable at the thought of me sleeping with someone else. I hope ya can understand that? And don't worry, like I said before...ya don't need to say yes now. Ya can give your answer later on, after you've spent a bit of time with Simon and have gotten to know him better. I wouldn't want ya sleeping with someone ya barely know."

You slowly nod. You could understand that. You and Johnny have known each other for much longer and it wasn't a secret he had a crush on you in the past....so Simon most likely felt the relationship would be threatened if Johnny was the one to sleep with you, worrying that would rekindle the old feelings he had for you from your younger years. Giving a slight sigh, you smile at Johnny and slightly give his hand a squeeze before letting it go.

"Yeah, okay. I'll give it a shot for you, Johnny. I'll try to get to know Simon better before I make my full decision..."

Johnny's face lights up and he immediately leans in to hug you tightly. He pulls away after a moment with a huge grin on his face.

"Thanks, lass. I promise Simon isn't normally like this. He just....has a hard time trusting people he doesn't know. He'll warm up to ya eventually."

This earns a scoff from Simon as he turns his head away from you two. Johnny laughs and gets up from the couch, moving behind it towards Simon.

"Lighten up, love. I know ya two pretty well....I think you'll get along in no time at all..."

He looks at Simon lovingly as he brushes his hand through Simon's short, black hair before giving him a kiss on his forehead. Simon frowns a bit, some of the scars on his face becoming more prominent; especially the ones on his upper lip and cheek.

"Really, Johnny? In front of her?"

Johnny only laughs in response, nodding.

"Aye, in front of her. Now come on, we should probably let her be now..."

He didn't need to tell Simon twice. The Brit immediately started heading towards the door without another word, only stopping in the doorway to wait for Johnny. Before leaving, Johnny turns to you again.

"Again, thank you. This really does mean a lot to me, and especially Simon....even if the brute doesn't want to admit it..."

Another groan is heard from Simon, who's barely...just barely....got a slight upward curl of his lips going on.

"...So I'll text ya soon with some dates and times so we can all get together and hang out a bit, so you can Simon can get to know each other better, yeah?"

You nod, smiling as you stand up and give Johnny another quick hug.

"Yeah. Sounds good. See you later, Johnny. Simon."

You give a slight nod to Simon, who hesitates before giving a slight nod back. Johnny turns and walks to Simon, taking Simon's hand in his before the couple leaves your house.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghoap au #ghoap fic #simon riley x you #john soap mctavish x reader #cbf!soap

[elexaria]

the reunion after almost 3 solid months of no contact was all simon anticipated. every time he had a slither of time, he would look at the weathered polaroid of you— innocent and wide eyed, a lipstick kiss on the back that he always gently rubs with his thumb for good luck. almost as though its a tether back to you.

and it hurts, no, cripples him to know that there’s a delay— the mission deadline has been pushed back because of undercover spies betraying 141. each time he runs at death’s ugly face, he knows that the only thread bringing him home is you. and that’s what gives him the strength to push through, even if it meant another month away from you.

you were so excited, it felt like you were going to throw up. waiting around on base wearing a pretty summer dress, smoothing out the folds with the palm of your hand to soothe your worries. four months without your si, and it felt like a lifetime. a death sentence. you never received the dreaded news anyone with loved ones in the military feared the most, so you didn’t really have anything to worry about. still, the anticipation was .. intense.

as each man walks out from the warehouse, grinning ear to ear as they welcome their loved ones with open arms, with each hug you felt your heart sink. where was he? it was eating you up. you half contemplated running into the warehouse yourself, but you figured you’d rather not get shot at.

“you’re a sight for sore eyes,” a familiar voice says, his mancunian accent drawling like a fine aged whiskey.

as you turn, you feel your chest tighten and relax simultaneously. “simon—!” you gasp, eyes welling up with tears as he greets you with his arms open, chuckling as you practically leap into his arms. “i’ve told you before, i don’t come out from that buildin’. that’s for the rookies.” he chuckles, eyes closed as he rests his chin against the crown of your head— simply savouring the comforting scent you have, one that brings a grounding sense of familiarity to his senses. “you tryin’ to say i’m not a real lieutenant, love?” he teases, grinning underneath his balaclava as he pulls back, weathered gloves affectionately stroking your cheek. you giggle, rolling your eyes. “must’ve forgotten.” you murmur gently, and simon swears he could see hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.

you make the fight worth it for simon. and four months seems like nothing when he finally finds his way back home to you.

#elexaria writes #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff

[wileys-russo]

Can you do a blurb about tooney where reader is shorter than her.

sorry seems to be the hardest word II e.toone

"oh for fuck sakes." you grumbled to yourself, hunting around for your training jacket but unable to find it. "ella!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, unsure where your girlfriend actually was in your shared home, head still buried in your wardrobe as footsteps raced upstairs.

"ya called baby?" the girl appeared as her thick accent sounded behind you. "where is my jacket?" you asked her seriously, raising an eyebrow to show you weren't messing about. the smug smile on her face was all the confirmation you needed that she was up to her usual tricks.

"don't know love. have ya properly looked for it?" she asked innocently and your eyes narrowed. "we needed to leave five minutes ago and i am not in the mood. where the fuck is my jacket el?" you warned, your girlfriend gesturing for you to step aside with a shoo of her hands.

reaching up she grabbed it from the very top shelf making you sigh, deeply unamused. the taller girls most favourite way to wind you up was to pick on you for your height, specifically to hide things where she knew you'd need her help to get them down.

"now what would ya do without me hmm?" the mancunian grinned, holding your jacket out of your reach as you grabbed for it. "ah ah ah. now say thank you baby, i love ya." ella teased, stretching her arm up higher as you huffed.

"thank you baby, now give me my fucking jacket or i swear to god i'll kill you in your sleep." you smiled dangerously through gritted teeth, ella dropping the jacket on your head in response.

"short and fiesty. that's how i like my women!" the girl smacked your bum with a whistle as you were distracted with your jacket, the murderous look sent her way having her sprinting out of your bedroom.

"come on love! god you're always makin us so late."

~

at the training grounds, it would seem that this morning was only the beginning as ella continued to go out of her way to mess with you.

"you are joking me." you grumbled under your breath, returning from the bathroom to see your boots had magically gone missing from where they were previously sat under your cubby.

"maz did you see where ella put my boots?" you sighed to the older woman who sent you a sympathetic smile. "i only just arrived, stuck in bloody traffic, sorry babe." mary apologised as you nodded in understanding, spotting ella speaking with maya on the other side of the room.

"toone!" you growled in warning, maya seeing the clearly pissed off look on your face and hurrying away as you stormed over toward them. your girlfriend however seemed only amused at your reaction, spreading out with her hands behind her head and a smile on her face.

"ya called?" she sung out staring up at you. "where are my boots ella?" you asked, staring at her with a pained expression. "now why would i know that love? are ya losing your things again?" the midfielder pouted sarcastically making your blood boil further.

"go and get them, now." you demanded, pointing to your cubby as she remained unmoved and you heard the training staff blow the whistle to signal you were all expected on the pitch.

"ella!" you repeated with a slight whine when she didn't move. "tooney! get your girls boots, everyone knows you obviously hid them mate." mary stuck up for you, clapping your back with her gloved hand and pointing menacingly at your girlfriend before she filed out after everyone else.

"i think ya should cheer up baby." ella teased, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek and sprinting out of the change rooms as you yelled after her. "the fucking cheek of her." you looked over to your cubby and from a distance were finally able to see your boots placed on top of your locker.

with a defeated groan you stood up on the bench of your cubby, but even stretching on the tips of your toes you were still unable to reach your boots.

glancing around desperately you jumped down and grabbed a spare corner flag pole from the training room, sprinting back and successfully knocking your boots down with it.

putting them on in record time you hurried out to the pitch, the rest of the girls already split up and having commenced the mornings first drills.

"y/l/n seven minutes late means seven laps. go!" marc called out as your body crumpled but you nodded, most of your friends sending you sympathetic looks.

you knew ella would be one of them but your body burning with anger at her you refused to look her direction, starting your laps and cursing the mancunian responsible to the high heavens under your breath.

~

if ella hadn't already figured out after your laps that you were pissed off with her, the fact you'd refused to look or speak to her at all since had really solidified that she had taken things too far.

all day she had been calling out encouragement your way, trying over and over to get back in your good books to no avail and much to the amusement of your teammates.

"dog house for you tonight then tooney." millie teased as you all finished for the day, headed back toward the change room as you walked ahead with mary and hayley.

"yeah mate give us a call once you're locked out, you can crash on my couch." maya smacked her on the back of the head as ella shoved her away with a dirty look, only furthering both girls amusement as the teasings continued.

"you can walk home." you spoke bluntly to your girlfriend, kit bag already slung over your shoulder not bothering to shower as you swiftly exited the change room, the whistles and jeerings sent ella's way causing her face to burn bright red.

"nope! you give her some space, i'll drive you home in a bit." mary grabbed the back of the younger girls top as she grabbed her things to hurry after you, pushing her back to sit down with a firm look as ella tried to protest but fell silent, instead sulking in the corner like a scorned child.

~

"go on then, grovelling time." mary pulled up out the front of your shared home, nodding for ella to get out as she took a deep breath, thanking the older girl and slipping out of the car.

she fumbled around with her keys, trying to open the door but frowning as it stayed closed.

"oh fucking come on." she kicked at the wood with a frustrated huff realising you'd locked the deadbolt, which only your keys had a copy of. "baby come on! let us in." ella whined, knocking loudly on the door and hearing footsteps come her way.

"oh sorry i'm too short to reach it." you spat bitterly, crossing your arms and glaring at the closed door as ella sighed, head thumping softly at the wood.

"love i know i took it way too far. please let me in to make it up to ya!" ella begged, flowers in hand ready to give to you that she'd made mary stop and allow her to buy.

"oh sorry can't hear you? your head is just so much further away from me since you're so much taller. hope the welcome mat makes a comfy pillow!" you mocked, and ella groaned louder as your footsteps retreated away from the door.

slumping down against the door with a huff ella wracked her brain on how she could try to get back in your good graces. she came up with one idea, but it was shit.

however unable to come up with anything else, she had no choice but to go for it.

so dropping her bag by her feet she cleared her throat and began to count herself in, you listening from a few feet away with a frown. unsure if she was trying to rile herself up to kick the door down, something you'd not put past her.

but much to your shock, she instead began to sing.

"what've I gotta do to make you love me? what've I gotta do to make you care? what do I do when lightning strikes me?" ella began to belt out the lyrics to sorry seems to be the hardest word to say by none other than elton john.

"oh my god." you mumbled to yourself, unable to stop the smile which grew on your face as ella continued, confidence growing as she sang louder and louder with each verse.

"it's sad, so sad why can't we talk it over? when, it seems to me that sorry seems to be the hardest word!" you heard her pause, as if waiting for the door to unlock or you to say something before she continued.

"what do I do to make you want me? what I got to do to be heard? what do I say when it's all over? sorry seems to be the hardest word!"

"baby are ya really gonna make me sing the whole song? the neighbors are out watchin me!" ella paused to yell with a groan.

"yes! keep going." you called back as you heard her sigh and continue, again getting louder and somehow more and more off tone with each line.

"what have I got to do? what have I got to do? when sorry seems to be the hardest word!" ella finished, carrying the final word on for at least thirty seconds before falling silent.

with an amused smile you shook your head and undid the deadbolt, swinging the door open to face her.

"thank you! she'll be here all week." you called out to your neighbours over her shoulder, waving at them on their front lawn with a grin as their laughter grew and ellas face flushed bright red.

grabbing your hand she gently pushed you back inside, kicking her bag in and firmly closing the door with a relieved sigh.

"did we learn our lesson then?" you enquired, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow. "yes. no more hidin things!" ella sighed with a shake of her head.

"i am very very very very very sorry baby. forgive us?" ella asked hopefully, holding out the flowers to you which you accepted with a nod. "you are cooking dinner, cleaning up afterwards, giving me a massage and doing all the laundry tomorrow." you warned, ella nodding eagerly before she pounced on you, pulling you into a passionate smooch and mumbling yet another apology against your lips.

leaving her to take her trainers off and unpack her bag you made your way to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, popping them in a vase and grabbing out some juice to drink. though as you opened the cupboard to grab out a glass your eyes narrowed and your jaw clenched.

"ella why the fuck are all the cups and mugs on the very top shelf!?"

#ella toone x reader #woso x reader #woso #ella toone #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics

[bits-and-babs]

✰ 𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐏 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: "Call me that again" — A solo op takes you away from 141 and away from Ghost. You're both at your wits end.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. Coms sex (I knowww, how original), inevitable dirty talk, masturbation, reference to size kink, a little dom-sub vibes, a little twist at the end because I can’t help myself. 

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

The coms crepitates loudly, bleeding into the silence of the safehouse room and ringing in your ears as you await that familiar, soothing voice that consoled your adrenaline-whipped body. Running for hours, you'd launched yourself towards the sanctuary of the safehouse once you finished your solo reconnaissance mission. Offering to work this mission single-handedly, you're separated by your 141 colleagues. You aren't sure if Vargas is alive or if Soap has thrown himself into the face of danger once again, but a dogmatic conviction grips your mind that Ghost is safe. He's always safe. 

Crackling, distorted sounds shock you from your disassociation, grabbing your heart and squeezing its chambers so hard you're sure it wheezes beneath the pressure. It throbs, the possible presence of your Commanding Officer on the end of the coms like a defibrillator, sparking it back to life. 

"Simon?" Your voice is hoarse as you call for him, your almost embarrassing desperation leaking into your tone of voice despite your best effort to portray nonchalance. 

"Delta."

His gruff Mancunian accent distorts through the headphones placed over your ears, distance scrambling the soundwaves. A rush of oxygen exhaled through your nose no doubt sends a burst of unpleasant sound through Ghost's eardrums-- but he doesn't complain. 

"I wondered if you were ever going to contact me," you whisper, closing your eyes and finally allowing yourself to relax into the sofa at the sound of Simon's voice. "Was beginning to think you'd had trouble." 

"The only trouble I have is a 6'2'" Scotsman that fucks my eardrums with his god-awful jokes," Simon grumbles to himself, the sound of him settling onto a cot sneaking its way into the mic in the form of straining springs. "His codename is trouble." 

"Funny, I thought it was Soap," you muse, and can't help but grin at the exasperated sigh that sounds at the end of the line. 

"Better start cleanin' up his act if he wants to keep it." 

Silence creeps between you both, laden with a heavy longing that crushes your chest. Of course, you'd never admit to missing him, but something about the way your heart seizes just at his mere presence, even from miles away, tells you that you're yearning. Aching for something as simple as laying eyes on him. 

"Delta."

His voice drips like molasses down your spine, inching its way down to your abdomen and swirling warmth between your legs. There's a hint of suggestion in his tone, the kind he'll offer on late paperwork shifts to relieve some tensions. 

Simon 'Ghost' Riley is dangerous. He doesn't give you butterflies— he detonates atomic bombs in your stomach. Obliterates any sense of propriety you have and compels you into a jittery, timid mess. It's something only Simon can do, and it's mortifying. 

"Yes?" You don't mean for it to come out the way it does, drawn out and breathless. He knows. He knows his voice alone has put you right where he wants you. 

"Been thinkin' of you." 

Swallowing thickly, you focus on the growing arousal blistering between your thighs. You're sure they're slick already, arousal triggered by the conversation's shift in tone. 

"Yeah?" You whisper, the single syllable catching in your throat like it's a honey trap. 

"Been thinkin' about how well you take my cock, love." The sudden crassness makes your heart lurch against your sternum, your hand diving beneath your waistband to start touching yourself to the sound of his voice, "Your little cunt stretches so good around me, fuckin' squeezes me just right."

You gasp as your print brushes your already throbbing clit, the buzzing arousal arcing up your spine and lifting it from the sofa. A quiet, gravelly hum sounds at the end of the coms, followed by the clinking of a belt as Ghost sheds the clothes from his lower body. 

"Filthy girl," he muses, listening to your sharp inhalation, "I've barely started talking, and you're already playin' with your clit. Couldn't even wait for my order. Is it throbbing for me, love?"

"Y-Yes-" you whimper, rocking your hips up to meet your touch. Waves of bliss drag from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, eyes rolling back as Simon groans. 

"I bet it is. You gonna use your fingers for me? Go on," Simon urges. He barely has to ask, though; you're already sinking your fingers into your entrance, moaning his name. 

"Ah-Ah," Ghost scolds you gently, his voice strained, "What did you call me?"

"S-Sorry, Lieutenant," you whine softly, eyelids fluttering when you push your fingers against something devastating. You rock your hips again, grinding your clit against the heel of your palm. 

"That's right," Simon growls, breath hitching as the quiet sounds of him working his cock in his fist filter into the mic from the background. "That's what you fuckin' call me. Go on, call me that again." 

"Yes, Lieutenant Riley." 

"Ugh- fuck," Ghost groans out, and it rattles in his chest. He sounds fucked, as desperate as you are to sink his cock into your wet heat. It's been too long; you've almost forgotten the stretch. 

"You workin' that clit how you like it?" Ghost asks, a little breathless now as he quickens the pace of his fist to match the speed at which your orgasm approaches. It's been too long. 

"Y-Yes, Lieutenant- Oh fuck-" 

"Gonna cum already?" A chuckle breaks through Ghost's huffed breath, amused by your inability to last much longer than a few minutes after only a couple of weeks separated. "C'mon, darlin', give it to me, nice and loud—" 

                            ✰

Hanging your head between your shoulders, you try not to mind the heat burning in your cheeks as Price finally stops the recording playing loudly from his laptop. Mercifully, he pauses just before you truly amp up the volume of your whimpers as you cum. 

"Did you even stop to think how this could affect the mission if the targets got ahold of these coms?" Price's eyes flit between you, frustration evident by the creases in his t-zone. 

"Would'a distracted the enemy," Ghost points out like he's serious. 

"Shut up, Ghost." 

"Yes, Sir."

join the taglist here:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @Malici0uspuff1n @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @im-still-alive2020 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #cod mw2 smut #call of duty smut #modern warfare smut #modern warfare 2 smut

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Oh, Honey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : jealousy, friends to lovers, a bit of violence, flirting, kissing

Word Count : 1.6k

Plot Summary : Jamie doesn’t know how to react when he sees you flirting with a West Ham player. 

A/N : More of my love, Jamie, there's a criminally low amount of Jamie fanfic---as always pls like and reblog if you enjoy <3

“Well don’t you look gorgeous?” You hear the voice before you see its owner, and you roll your eyes before picking your drink up from the bar and turning around. 

“And you are?” You deadpan. 

“Westley Smythe. But I’m better known as the star player of West Ham.” He quirks a smile at you and you try hard not to laugh right in his face. 

“You do know who I am?” You ask him, and he raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down as if there was no way he could know. 

“I’m Richmond’s athletic trainer. ” You watch the wheels turn in his mind, and you smooth your dress on yourself, flashing him your own brilliant smile. “I don’t really associate with West Ham.” 

He shrugs. “No one has to know.” He says, and this time, you do laugh out loud, actually tickled that this man was being so bold. 

But your laugh alerts your own star player, a certain number 9. Jamie’s jaw clenches when he sees you laughing with Smythe, and the grip on his beer bottle (a rare treat Roy allowed him) tightens. He feels Roy lean over, and he rolls his eyes in anticipation for whatever Roy has to say. 

“Bloody fucking hell, Tartt. Just tell the girl you like her.” Jamie can’t help but steal glances at you, where you’re chatting away with the West Ham player. And…are you enjoying his company? He thinks about you, how you move when a song you like comes on, the smell of your honey scented perfume. 

“I can’t.”

“Yes you fucking can.” Roy grunts, and with that he puts another beer in front of Jamie and wanders off to mingle with Ted and Beard. 

This leaves Jamie with admittedly, a lot to think about, even though Roy hadn’t said much. 

You keep a tight smile on your face, and you glance to the boys, noticing Jamie was watching you. Your face flushes and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Even though Westley was definitely not your type, you decide you could maybe use him to make Jamie a bit jealous. 

For the past few months, it always seems like Jamie is on the edge of asking you something. There’s stolen glances, smiles that linger a bit too long. You even find yourself checking over him after games more often than other players. You and Jamie were friendly, even friends, but you couldn’t deny the extremely large crush you held on the Mancunian. 

You reach out and brush a light hand on Smythe’s arm, causing him to step a bit closer to you. You glanced again at Jamie, the muscles in his perfect jaw jumping at the sight of you and Smythe. You grin to yourself, angling your body so you’re facing away from Jamie. You felt maybe a little evil, but maybe it would push him to talk to you a bit more. Of course, you could talk to him, but it seemed like anytime you tried to flirt, Jamie was completely oblivious to what you were trying to do. 

You roll your eyes as Westley continues to drone on, casting a peek over your shoulder. Jamie was still watching you, but he was standing now. He sets his bottle on the table and skulks out of the bar, and you can’t help but smirk. 

The next day, you’re up in the box with Keeley and Rebecca, who you inform of your jealous-Jamie plan. 

Keeley grins. “I love it babes.” And Rebecca nods.

“Maybe it showed him what he was missing.” She suggests, and you point a finger at her, settling into your seat. You cross your arms and gaze down at the field but the huge monitor over the stands shows closeups of the team. You can’t keep your eyes off of Jamie, and Keeley leans in. 

“He looks grumpy, I think your little plan worked, yeah?” She grins, nudging you. You shrug, but secretly you were pleased. If he was jealous over you, surely that meant he liked you. 

The game starts, the usual fast paced back and forth making your head spin. You notice that Smythe has the ball, about to score, when suddenly -

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, standing straight up out of your seat. Jamie had slide-tackled the other player, knocking him down, causing Smythe to roll a little bit. Westley Smythe stands up and charges towards Jamie, who didn’t seem like he was going to back down, in fact, he was smirking, walking to meet Smythe. Jamie pushes Smythe hard, but before a real fight can break out, the referee interferes, gesticulating to Jamie. 

Finally, the referee pulls out a red card. 

Keeley and Rebecca sit next to you, stunned. 

You look up at the monitor and catch Jamie smirking, tongue out, cocky expression on display as he walks back towards the dugout. You sit down, slightly stunned. But also, slightly into it. You watch Roy shake his head at Jamie and send him into the locker room. You quickly stand up, making your way out of the box.

Your tennis shoes make a soft tap, tap, tap on the floor as you walk down the long, bright hallway to the locker room. You round the doorway and stop, right as Jamie looks up at you. 

“What the hell, Jamie? A red card? Not to mention, you could have hurt yourself and then work on your ankle would have had to start over.” You put your hands on your hips, moving forward towards him. 

“Oh sorry, are you worried about your little West Ham boyfriend?” He says, scoffing as he stands up, turning to face his locker. 

“Boyfriend? I don’t care about Westley.” 

“On a first name basis, huh?” 

You clench your teeth. He was going to be difficult about this. “Why do you even care?” 

Jamie shrugs, still facing away from you. “I don’t.” 

“So why’d you tackle him, then?” 

At this, you can see Jamie’s body tense. “He’s a bloody wanker, that’s why.” 

At this, you scoff. He was really going to stand in front of you and pretend as if you didn’t know what this was about. At the sound of your noise of indignation he turns around to face you. There’s a glint in his eyes and he steps closer to you. Very close. Noses almost touching close. He’s slightly taller than you, so he looks down at you. 

“Maybe I don’t like the way he was looking at you last night, yeah? Like you were a piece of fucking meat.” 

“I can take care of myself.” You assure him, biting back a smirk. You can’t help it though, a devilish smirk was playing on the corners of your lips. “Are you jealous, Tartt?” 

You expected him to smirk. You even expected him to maybe laugh, that beautiful smile on display. Instead, he licks his lips, quirking an eyebrow at you. “I think you know the answer to that.” 

“Then say it.” You challenge. 

At this, Jamie smirks. “Yes. I was jealous. You are smart, funny, and kind, and seeing Westley Smythe all over you made me want to tackle him on the pitch.” 

You’re a bit taken aback. You didn’t expect him to pile compliments on you, and your eyes soften. “Oh..” you breathe out. 

Jamie continues to gaze down at you, leaning in even closer than he was before, his lips hovering centimeters above yours. You watch, mesmerized, drunk in his presence. 

“Seems you might like having me jealous over you, yeah?” Jamie teases. “But that’s okay, as long as I get you all to myself.” 

You swallow, your eyes trailing to his lips. “You’ve always had me all to yourself.” You whisper, glancing up to meet his gaze again. But the look on his face is different. Where before it was smirking, sexy, teasing, now it was surprised and anguished. 

“Wh..what?” He manages to get out, and you kick yourself, believing you said the wrong thing. “Just how long have you been trying to make me jealous?” He asks, reaching up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You shrug, suddenly bashful, cheeks burning red hot as he brushed his hand there briefly. You feel a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. He searches your face, a small, pleased smile playing on his lips. 

“Only since last night. I couldn’t take the tension anymore.” You whisper, and Jamie laughs softly. He slides his hand to the side of your face, lifting his other hand to mirror it. Cradling your face gently, he leans in. 

Before anything happens, his eyes travel from your lips to your eyes. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. Your mouth feels dry, but you nod, and he leans in, gently connecting his lips to yours. 

You kiss him back, feeling as if you were melting, and you slide your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His hands leave your face and snake around your waist, holding you as close as he can. “You are as sweet as honey.” He breathes into your ear, and you shiver. 

“Oi!” You hear a booming voice yell from the doorway and you instinctively look over, still tangled in each other’s arms. There stood Roy, an eyebrow raised. “Not that I don’t think it’s about time the two of you kissed, but Ted wants to see you, Tartt.” 

Jamie looks at you, stealing another kiss before winking at you, following Roy out of the locker room door. You stood there, smiling and blushing to yourself. You guessed Jamie just needed a little push, is all. You couldn’t wait to continue what you started.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #jealous trope #jealousy #friends to lovers #jamie tartt x y/n

[pandorasprongs]

JAMIE TARTT | and i don't even like you that much. wait, i do. f*ck.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: jamie is actually a board game nerd and starts spending more time with one of the employees of a local shop.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: this idea came to me as someone asked me if i wanted to buy another volume of a board game we had HAHA if you can figure out what game i'm referring to in this story, hmu! alsooo i want to apologize for the length i swear i didn't mean for it to get that long, but still, i hope you all enjoy! title is from the song 'apple cider' by beabadoobee!

It was another slow morning in the store, given that most of your frequent customers were forced to be in school at this time. You ended up continuing one of the readings for your class during your shift. Despite a wave of drowsiness hitting you the moment you opened the book, it was still better having free time to be tired than the afternoon rush when 13-year-old boys came in to get another booster pack of Magic: The Gathering cards.

You were practically setting all these children up for a gambling addiction the way they'd spend 20 pounds trying to get one of those shiny ones in their deck. You never bothered to learn the names really, because that wasn't part of your job description. When it came to those kinds of things, those boys probably knew more than you did.

When it came to board games though, that was your area of expertise. It was partly one of the reasons you applied to work here while you were finishing up your Master's, — and also because of how generous the owner was with your salary, — so you always loved helping people out for their board game nights. You didn't have regulars that would come in often, but here and there, there would be a person you recognize from before asking about another game.

You don't know how much time had passed, but after deciding that your brain could no longer take reading the word cognitive multiple times in a sentence, you end up shutting the book and resting your head on the counter.

Soon after though, you hear the bell at the top of the door ring, causing you to jolt up. You only catch a glimpse of the guy walking towards you before he drops his head, his cap completely blocking his face, and a loose black hoodie covering his frame.

For a second, you get worried that the store was about to get robbed but the man finally stops in front of you and speaks, in a thick Mancunian accent. "Do you have any suggestions for board games? Like for family and stuff,"

You swear you've heard his voice before. Maybe from school? Or a former customer? You decide to shake it off before replying. "Well, this is a board game store, so there's quite a lot to pick from. Do you have any specific theme in mind? How many players?"

"There'll be 3 of us, but I'm not really picky with the game. Not any of those monopoly type shit though, cause I'm sick of never winning."

You chuckle at the revelation and that's what gets the man to look up at you. It definitely wasn't his appearance he was worried about. His chiseled jaw and striking blue eyes almost draw you in, not to mention his hairstyle looks eerily like the one David Beckham had in the 90s, who you had to admit was a crush of yours as a kid. He could even pass as a contestant on one of those dating reality shows.

And then it hits you where you've heard his voice before. This guy was on Lust Conquers All and was immediately voted off. You remember it well because your sister was so pissed at him for joining the show since the football season had just started. Jamie something, but the show never mentioned his last name. You try to hide your realization by turning to the shelf behind you.

"Alright uh, I’d recommend this one." You turn back around and slide it across the counter as Jamie (?) starts looking at the box from all angles.

"Looks cool," is all he says in reply and he looks back at you, presumably for you to explain the game. You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before going on your usual introduction to the game.

"Basically in the game, there are 4 characters you can choose to be your 'heroes.' Your main objective is to get your opponent's health to 0 using the different cards in your set. All the characters have different decks and skills you can use throughout the game, and some of them even have side kicks." You look back up for a second to see his expression and you can tell that you're still holding his interest.

"So for example in the one I gave you, you can battle Sinbad, Medusa, King Arthur, and Alice, who's fucking amazing, by the way."

"Alice? From fucking Wonderland?" You laugh at his surprise before nodding to affirm it. "She's your favorite then?"

"How'd you know?" You ask sarcastically. "But yeah, she's just really versatile and it's just really fun to shrink and grow every turn just to piss off the other players. I'm practically unbeatable using her." You admit though you're not really sure why.

Most of the time when customers come in here for a game, they don't ask questions and just buy the first one you suggest. That’s probably why you answered Jamie's question so earnestly. Cause he's the first one to ever ask you what you liked about the game.

You quickly run through the rest of the rules and mechanics of the game with Jamie chiming in occasionally. You describe the other editions as well and Jamie is tempted to buy the other one — "How is anyone supposed to beat fucking Dracula?" — before he ultimately decides to take home the one you offered.

"If I end up losing using Alice, you owe me a refund." He states as you ring up the game. You playfully roll your eyes as you scan the barcode on the box.

"Oh yeah, since you're the first customer of the day, you get a 7% discount on your purchase," you quickly inform him when you glance at the post-it note on the register screen reminding you about it in bold letters.

Instead of the usual gratefulness or blip of happiness from hearing that news, Jamie instead asks, "Is that really a thing or are you doing it because you know who I am?"

You look at him to check if he's serious and given his blank look, you assume he is. You don't know how to respond to that, so instead you just slowly shake your head.

"Wait, do you not know who I am?" His question itself comes off as arrogant, but given the genuine surprise in your voice, you're not sure how to feel about the guy after he says it.

You decide to answer him honestly. "I do, but given that you walked in here in clothes that make you look like a stalker who's about to rob the place, I didn't think you'd want me to make a big fuss about it, Jamie."

His shoulders seem to relax at your statement and once he goes quiet, he finally pulls out his wallet. You quickly place the game in a paper bag and hand it over to him.

He whispers a quick thanks and turns to leave, before pausing. He turns back to you, "Look, it's not like I'm dressed this way because I'm embarrassed to be in a store like this—"

"I didn't think you were," you answer blankly with a hint of sarcasm. You decide to mess with the guy a little bit because hey, when's the next time a famous footballer comes into your store again? "Why, is there something I should be embarrassed about?"

Jamie quickly shakes his head. "No, fuck no! I think it's cool, really. You know, being surrounded by all these games and cards and knowing so much about them. Especially someone like you,"

You tilt your head in amusement. "What do you mean someone like me?" Jamie's embarrassment only seems to deepen at that.

"Fuck I didn't mean it like that. Honestly, when I came in here, I was expecting some teenage boy to be at the counter. Wait no— I mean, girls can like all this stuff too! I just didn't expect someone attr—," he stops himself and shakes his head. "Shit, wait,"

You watch Jamie scramble for words and you decide to just put an end to his misery. "Look, look, I was just joking around. I don't give that much of a shit about what you said." The football player visibly relaxes and you hold in a laugh at that reaction. "And you're basically right about the kind of people who work here. Most of my co-workers can't work these hours right now 'cause they're off studying for their A-Levels."

"Yeah, well thank you for this," Jamie lifts the bag slightly and you give him a genuine smile.

"No problem. Hope you enjoy the game! And if you ever feel compelled to dress like a shitty robber again, you can come back and tell me what you think." Your sarcasm no longer throws Jamie off who instead, just playfully rolls his eyes and leaves the store.

You go back to your reading for your behavioral science class, putting your interaction with the football player in the back of your mind.

—

The next time you see Jamie is two weeks later, although this time, he comes in right before closing. Technically, you weren't the only one assigned for this shift, but you decided to let your co-worker go home early since he said he had an English exam the next day and still hadn't studied.

So, you were counting down the minutes to 8 pm when you hear someone come inside. Fucking hell. You force a smile, "Hi, welcome! We'll be closing in a few minutes, but please approach me if you need anything so you can have a speedier process."

"Are you really that desperate to get rid of me?" The person moves away from the shelves and turns out to be Jamie Tartt, you learn his last name is. He's wearing another grey hoodie but seems to have decided to ditch his hat. Good, because you weren't sure how much longer you could stare at the ICON written on it and not judge him. "I wanna know, did you think offering to help the customer would get them out of here quicker?"

"I had to try something," you defend yourself, shrugging. You notice Jamie carrying the bag you used to wrap the board game and slightly frown. "Didn't like the game?"

He follows your eyes and is quick to correct you. "I loved it, actually. First time playing a board game that Simon didn't win during the first round." You aren't sure who Simon is, but you laugh nonetheless. "And you're right, Alice is fucking unbeatable."

"I'm glad you liked it, and Alice," you start, but then glance at the time on your phone. "But, is that the only reason you came here?"

"Well no, I was wondering if you wanted to play. That's why I came so late, in case there would be too many people if I came at the usual time."

"Yeah, there was a fuck ton, actually, as you can tell from the fully stocked store." You say, pretending to look around the room. "But sure, if you want. I don't have anything going on tomorrow anyway," Now you're really glad that you didn't procrastinate that paper due tonight.

Jamie smiles as he starts to unbox the set and you grab one of the chairs behind the counter and push it to the other side for the footballer.

Never did you imagine you would spend a Saturday night with a hot football player playing one of your favorite board games, but here you were. In between one of the rounds, the topic of football is brought up and you admit that you don't know all that much about it despite your family being made up of fanatics.

"Everyone has their team they support. My dad loves Arsenal, my mum loves Chelsea, and my sister bounces between West Ham and Crystal Palace. Though, she fucking hates Rupert Mannion, so maybe this is the end of her West Ham support." You answer as you shuffle Jamie's deck.

"Shit, the season must be fun for you guys," Jamie remarks and you snort, though instantly regretting letting that sound out. The football player looks unfazed, so you decide not to apologize for it and answer his question instead.

"Yeah, I basically end up being their messenger till the finals, which ends up becoming World War 3 if their teams are competing," you hand him his deck back and start the round, but your conversation doesn't end there.

"What team would you support then, if you got into football?" He looks hopefully at you.

"Yours, probably." You confirm as you look through your first hand of cards. "I mean, I'm about to destroy one of their players at this game. It's the least I can do."

"We'll see about that," Jamie replies and you roll your eyes playfully, but you smile.

Working at the store meant you were surrounded by board game fans every day, but not even your regulars would come in here after your shift to play. You couldn't help but feel warm at how Jamie matched your enthusiasm about the game, something, you admit, you didn't expect from the player. You knew nothing would probably come from this harmless happy crush of yours, but if he decided to start coming in often to play, you wouldn't be opposed to it.

Your attention turns back to the game once Jamie picks his next move. He smirks at his decision until his expression suddenly shifts. "Wait, if you're not into football, how'd you know who I was the other day?"

You move your piece before looking directly into Jamie's eyes and respond, "I just really love trashy reality shows." Jamie playfully groans at the reminder and you burst into laughter before you continue the game.

True to form, whichever of the two of you uses Alice is the one to win that round. You finally decide on a tie-breaker with your favorite being banned from usage.

"Christ, if this is how you maneuver in a board game, I wonder how good you are at football." You tease, as you glance at his character being at only 4HP.

"I'm fucking amazing, actually. Ask your family, they'll tell you." Jamie moves a few spaces on the board, hoping to escape your Medusa, but instead, he falls into one of your traps.

You corner him and finally reduce his King Arthur's health. "And there you go, 3-2."

It takes Jamie a second to absorb everything before he slouches. "Fucking hell." You laugh before getting up from your chair and helping him keep all the pieces and cards.

"Better luck next time, Tartt."

Jamie, whose competitive side seems to be shining in this game, doesn't let it end there.

Almost every week, he would come into the store at night asking to play. He was definitely getting better, but after making a deal where the loser has to tell an embarrassing story after the round, you realize you know more about him than he probably does about you.

"God Jamie, how are you alive?" You ask as he shares a story from when he first started the league.

"How was I supposed to know doing multiple headers in one match could lead to a bloody concussion?" He retorts, only making your eyes widen even more.

"I'm pretty sure that's common knowledge to about 80% of the population," you say through your laughter.

It's almost 10 when you finish playing, so you grab your jacket and start heading to the door with Jamie. You lock the store up and notice that Jamie's still hanging around you.

It's dark outside, but it seems like his features were even more enhanced by the moonlight. The light hit his eyes just the right way that it made the blue more evident. You notice just then how his hair is neater today, mainly because of his sports headband. The front strands of his hair had fallen out it though, falling on his face in just the right way that it gave you butterflies. Did all footballers look this attractive?

You realize that you may have been starting a bit too long and as you tuck the keys in your jacket pocket, you decide to ask, "Need anything else?"

Jamie opens his mouth to say something, but instead, he just shakes his head. "Nothing actually, just good night," he waves and starts walking in the opposite direction, but you swear you hear him muttering something under his breath.

—

It had been a week since then and you had to start telling yourself to not be so excited when you hear the bell ring. Every time it did, you'd look expectantly at the door expecting to see Jamie again, asking for another or a new volume or even just game tips. Each time, you'd end up disappointed and would have to fake a smile to the customer approaching you.

This time you hear it ring, and you do your best to not look up. If it was Jamie, you knew that your boss George probably would be sounding an alarm. You only learned the Monday after that he was a major AFC Richmond fan when you mentioned that a football player had visited the store multiple times to play board games.

"Do you think we can get him to sign a picture and put it on the wall? Can you ask?" You quickly have to explain how those interactions were the only times you ever spoke to Jamie and had no actual way of contacting him.

As you close your laptop, — one more paragraph and that essay is done! — you look up to find two guys standing in front of you.

"Hi, do you have any board game recommendations?" the one on the right greeted, his accent quickly revealing him to be Welsh.

You don't have a chance to answer because the left one lightly elbows his friend before whispering (though loud enough for you to hear), "He already told us what to get, bruv."

You may not know who this 'he' is, but the guy pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of a board game, the same one you recommended to Jamie. Wishful thinking gets you to believe that they were friends of his and he liked it so much that he told them about it. And maybe about you, too.

You've never been so happy to be right.

You nod your head and as he kept his phone, you started pulling the same edition from the shelf behind you when you hear a screeching sound that almost made you drop the box.

"Oh my God, Colin Hughes, and Isaac McAdoo!" George exclaims and you wonder where you've heard those names before.

The owner joins you at the counter as you place the board game in front of you. Maybe you weren't pretending to be as peppy as you usually do, because George decides to ask, "How are you so calm? Do you know who these guys are? They're Colin Hughes and Isaac McAdoo!"

"I heard you the first time," you turn to the two guys once again, embarrassed on behalf of your boss.

"They're part of the starting team of AFC Richmond!" And that's when it clicks. On one of your all-nighters, you decided to take a break and search up Jamie Tartt just to see what you could find. You ended up at his club's website and saw the rest of the players as well. You didn't pay them much attention given that you were so focused on player number 9, but you saw enough pictures to recognize them, at least.

"So you guys do know Jamie," you think out loud and the two players turn to each other, before sharing looks of realization.

"Oh, you're the girl!" Colin exclaims and you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Yeah, I guess so," you try and act as nonchalantly as possible, so neither of them picks up on anything. You turn back to the game and ask, "Is this the one you wanted?"

"Jamie said there were other versions?" Isaac asks and you nod your head to confirm it, which he smiles at. "We want the Sherlock one."

"Okay," you reach for that one on the shelf as George starts offering them discounts on the game.

When he almost offers to give it to them for free along with another set, you stop him by slamming the box on the counter. Why were you the one trying to keep his business alive? "Here it is, hope you enjoy it!"

You ring up their purchase, still trying to hold your boss back from scaring these footballers away before they can pay. You finally bag the whole thing and hand it to them. "Thank you!" you shout as they exit the store.

"Yeah, see you soon!" George says afterward and you look at him in confusion.

"What the fuck was that, George?" He only sighs, most likely the embarrassment only hitting him at that exact moment.

Once he goes back to doing inventory, you can't help but replay what Colin said. Oh, you're the girl! Why was such a simple phrase like that affecting you so much? For all you know, he might've mentioned you being a sore winner, which wouldn't be the first time you've been called that.

But you still hope he said good things about you and maybe even kept better things he thought to himself.

—

"Okay, time's up. Please pass your papers." You write one last word as you get up to give your exam to the proctor, sighing in relief that the semester is finally over.

You had asked for leave for the past few days and didn't have a shift until tomorrow, so you decide to treat yourself to some coffee and pasta for lunch at the campus cafe.

As you settle down at one of the tables, you get a phone call from George. He was more than happy to let you take the time off, so you wonder what emergency had to happen for him to contact you.

As soon as you pick up, George screams your name into the phone. You pull it away from your ear for a second, and respond, "What? What do you need?"

"Look, I'm sorry to disturb you on your day off, but you said that your test ended at 2:30, so I decided to hold off calling you till then. Anyway, someone came in a few days ago asking if we host board game nights."

"And we do," you answer for him as you chew your sandwich.

"Right, and then he said that he was from AFC Richmond." You flinch after imagining how your boss could've reacted at that revelation. "They wanted to hold it a few days ago," George pauses.

"Why didn't you say yes? You could've been game master."

"Yeah well, I wanted to, but they specifically asked for you to go." You put down your sandwich and straighten up. George continues, "I told them you were on leave, but they said they could wait till you were back at work. I said that your test was this morning and I would ask if you'd be willing to end your leave early."

"Okay, sure." You answer, a little faster than you intended. You couldn't believe that the team — and maybe even Jamie personally, — was willing to postpone their game night just so you would be the one to facilitate it.

The surprise was evident in George's voice. Normally, you would reject his idea the moment he mentioned board game nights, but something about this was different for you. "Oh okay, well, I'll send you the address. I'll be bringing the boards there since you don't have a car and I'll meet you there at 4 pm. It's a restaurant, so maybe you can get something to eat before 'cause shit can get crazy at those things and it's best to load up."

You don't know how a board game night could get crazy, but you decide not to comment on it. He sends you the details through text before you end the call and continues eating your sandwich. The place wasn't too far from campus, so you didn't have to rush to get there. But after 10 minutes, you consumed your sandwich and were out the door with your coffee in hand.

While walking, you decided to familiarize yourself more with the players trying to put names to face before you had to interact with all of them at once. You started to get the hang of it, — even looking at team photos and naming them one by one as a test — as you get to the venue at around half past 3.

You arrive at a restaurant called Ola's, and you remember seeing one of the Richmond players post about it. Your dad wanted to have dinner here once, but they were always fully booked so the four of you gave up trying to get a table there.

Because of that, you expected the place to be swamped with customers, but instead find an almost empty restaurant. You notice one guy standing in the middle of it and approach him.

"Hi," He turns around and you recognize him as Sam Obisanya, meaning he must be the owner. You introduce yourself quickly before asking, "Am I at the right place? I'm here to help host a board game tournament."

Sam's eyes widen as he seems to recognize you. "Oh yes, this is the place. Sorry, I didn't expect you to be so early. We already fixed up the tables, but I can also help in setting up the boards if you like."

"Ah no, it's alright. My boss is the one who’s bringing them. I came from my university, so I don't have any of them on me right now." You quickly explain and Sam nods as he leads you to one of the tables to relax, while he grabs some appetizers from the kitchen.

He makes his way back to the table, though he can't seem to stop looking at you. You subconsciously start fixing your hair, wondering if you should've gone to the bathroom before going in here.

He seems to pick up on this and is quick to reassure you, "Oh, I'm sorry for staring. It's just Jamie has mentioned you so many times, so it's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the football player. You grab some of the food he offered as you reply as calmly as you can, "Oh yeah, did he tell you how he is nowhere close to beating my number of wins?"

Sam lets out a short chuckle. "No, but I'm not surprised. He did say you're very good at it." You smile and decide to ask why they decided to do a board game night.

It takes a second before Sam replies, "Oh well, Coach always says to do team-building activities every once in a while, and seeing as Jamie has asked almost everyone on the team to play the game at least once, we thought it would be a good idea. I think Isaac and Colin got their own board too and they started bringing it to the clubhouse."

"Shit, I didn't realize that football players loved board games so much," you remarked as you hear the door to the restaurant open.

Both of you look up to see George, who is trying to carry 12 boxes of board game sets. You rush out of your seat to help him out and so does Sam. The sight of the player almost makes your boss drop all of them from his arms, but you quickly scoop four of them and Same takes another four.

"Sam Obisanya," George exhales, once some of the weight is literally lifted off him.

The player simply says, "Hello," and states that he'll start setting up the four boards on the tables near the back.

You snap your fingers to get George out of the trance and the two of your start setting up on the rest of your tables, dropping the character figurines at the bar table and putting the sign-up sheet next to it. Slowly, the restaurant starts filling up with players with George gradually losing his mind at the number of footballers from his favorite team.

You finally get him to leave, but only by promising to convince the team to take a picture with him when he came back to pick up the boards. You're pretty sure he's already making plans to put it on a canvas and hang it on his bed.

You settle yourself behind the bar table to be in charge of the players setting up, each time expecting it to be Jamie standing in front of you. You try and keep your focus on the task at hand every time you hear the boys greet someone new.

Isaac and Colin are the next to write their names and they give you a look that you can't quite decipher. Soon enough, Jamie finally gets here and you straighten up in your seat. He greets some of the players till his eyes land on you.

He approached the bench and once he looked up, he observed out loud. "You're here,”

"Aw, did you want to get rid of me that badly?" You mimic him before explaining that you finished your leave earlier, "just to see you, of course." — with some truth behind that statement. Jamie laughs — albeit, a little awkwardly, — and takes the clipboard. As he signs up, you decide to take the chance to tease him. "Heard you were talking about me to your teammates."

Jamie's eyes widen and he stops writing to shoot glares at the rest of AFC Richmond, not sure who told you. Jamie turns back to you and you laugh. "Don't worry, Tartt. I'm sure you just told them how I'm an absolute god at the game and you're glad I'm not playing tonight." The football player simply rolls his eyes as he joins his teammates.

Once the whole team is complete along with their kit-man Will, you decide to start the tournament. "Okay, hi everyone! Welcome to your board game night." The crowd cheers and you're startled by their enthusiasm. You quickly explain the rules of the night, — though they seem to already know most of it, — and the order of players. It's a draw lots method, so the players will be randomly given a character and an opponent.

Once everyone gets their characters and settles in, you start making rounds in case anyone had any questions. After a while, you start heading back to the bar when someone taps you on the shoulder. You find Jamie already done with his round.

"How'd you win that quickly?" You don't try to hide the surprise in your voice. "Even I take like 20 minutes minimum to win."

"Oh I didn't," Jamie clarifies, and you widen your eyes. "I just couldn't attack Dani. I mean, look at that face." You turn to their table and find Dani smiling at you — "This is fun!" — and waving using his Dracula figurine.

You laugh at his reasoning. "Alright then, guess you're done for the night." You walk back to the bar and Jamie stops on the opposite side of it.

"You hungry? Sam said there's prepped meals in the back and since none of the games are ending soon…" Jamie offers and you obliged, seeing as this might be the only time you might ever get to eat in this restaurant. He grabs two plates from there and settles down next to you. Surprisingly, he managed to grab one of your favorite dishes. You remember mentioning to him that you had tried it at another restaurant in the past and loved it, but you doubt he even remembers it and dubbed it a coincidence.

You decide to keep the topic off board games and instead let him talk about what he's doing since he last saw you. Turns out they had multiple back-to-back matches, so practice was tight and he didn't have time to visit you. He also said the next time he did, it was one of your teenage co-workers manning the counter.

"Oh, Chuck! Yeah, he's pretty shit at board games." You say blankly while you shove another spoonful of food into your mouth.

"I ended up just buying a card game and leaving." Jamie continues and you laugh.

"Sorry, you went all the way there for just that. I go to class on Wednesdays, so I don't have a shift then." The conversation then shifts to your degree and you explain that you plan on becoming a psychologist.

"There is another upside to getting that degree too," Jamie chimes in, and you tilt your head. "You can fuck with someone's head while playing."

"Okay, psychology isn't mind control." Though, you think about it for a second. "But it is pretty close. You’ll be my first victim.” You make your sound more ghostly in that last sentence and Jamie pretends to act terrified and faint.

There is a short silence between the two of you when you realize that most of the rounds are done. You start organizing the next round and once the games start, the other players start going around and rooting for their teammates.

It leaves the area near the bar much more isolated and Jamie lowers his voice. "About that card game I got, it's pretty fun, too."

"Yeah?" You ask as you bring your plate back to the kitchen.

"Yeah. I'd love to take you out and talk about it," you stop in your tracks before turning back to the footballer who adds, “If you want."

You turn around to see Jamie is much closer to you now. It's only then you realize how much taller he was than you, but despite that, you’re not intimidated, especially with him looking so expectantly at you.

It takes a second before your mouth turns into a smile. "I think I'd like that."

Jamie does this small bounce thing on his heels, before trying to tone it down. You only laugh and kiss him on the cheek before heading to the crowd of players. He follows suit and rests his arm on your shoulders.

Some of his teammates notice and start cheering. You look at them confused before deciding to ask Jamie, "Was this all an elaborate scheme to ask me out?"

He shakes his head, "No, 'course not. Was there a deal made after I lost a game to Jan? Possibly," The both of you laugh as you playfully push his head away. You start to accept that this unfairly attractive football player — whom you'll be going on a date soon — can be as much of a nerd as you.

If this is what George meant when he said game nights could get crazy, well, maybe you should’ve given them a chance earlier.

#jamie tartt #jamie tart x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts [[Series Masterlist]]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

There's nothing worse than finding out you've been lied to. Five years after having her heart ripped out, a knock at Charlotte's door turns her whole world upside down and she doesn't know how to feel about it.

or

Simon fucked up big time and has his own world turned upside down. Price thinks it might be karma.

TW: Smut, angst, fluff, mental health issues, past abuse, torture, mentions of past rape, pregnancy, PTSD, mentions of attempted suicide, the usual warnings for COD looool

A/N:

I finally caved and made a Tumblr lmao I'll be honest, this fandom intimidates the fuck out of me. Cross posting here from Ao3.

This story follows a Two Act structure. It will begin with the prologue which is set in current times (really kicking this story off with a bang lmaoooo). Then Act One will be set in the past and then Act Two is back in the present.

I’m going to be playing with different POVs to get a real sense of what's going on and there will be a lot of Ghost POV because I love being in his brain :’) I also won’t be tagging each chapter individually so please read the tags here and they will be updated as needed.

Now, to clarify some shit;

I’ve played around with the timeline and shit to make things work better and had to fill in some gaps. We know that Ghost joined the military after the 911 attacks and I had him be 18 when that happened (meaning he was born in 1983). If I made him any older, he’d be even older than I wanted him to be at present times. As it was now, he turned out at 40 in 2023 (when I started this fic). I didn't really want him to be that old (not that 40s old, but you know lmao) so for the sake of this story, ‘present time’ is 2019 and he’s 36. 

And the last note; I’m in fact from Manchester myself. Ghost doesn’t have a Manchester accent in the least. No idea why, I always presumed it was something about him joining the military, maybe he picked up an accent similar to a London one or something, but boy is that accent not Mancunian. Not that its a bad thing because I fucking hate Mancunian accents and I say that as someone who has one lololol I won't be mentioning the fact his accent isn't quite right in the story ‘cause that's just awkward :’)

Some chapters will be accompanied with a song that fits (sometimes loosely) the theme of the chapter.

Prologue

Act One: Chapter One

Act One: Chapter Two

Act One: Chapter Three

Act One: Chapter Four

Act One: Chapter Five

Act One: Chapter Six

Act One: Chapter Seven

Act One: Chapter Eight

Act One: Chapter Nine

Act One: Chapter Ten

Act One: Chapter Eleven

Act One: Chapter Twelve

Act One: Chapter Thirteen

Act One: Chapter Fourteen

Act One: Chapter Fifteen

Act One: Chapter Sixteen

Act One: Chapter Seventeen

Act One: Chapter Eighteen

Act One: Chapter Nineteen

Act One: Chapter Twenty

Act One: Chapter Twenty One

Act One: Chapter Twenty Two

Act One: Chapter Twenty Three

Act One: Chapter Twenty Four

Act One: Chapter Twenty Five

Act One: Chapter Twenty Six

Act One: Chapter Twenty Seven

Interlude

Act Two: Chapter One

Act Two: Chapter Two

Act Two: Chapter Three

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x oc #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc

[doudouneverte]

Next stop... Manchester

a/n: I had to rewrite it but it's okay. Feedback is really appreciated by the way

*Not my PIC*

Pairing: Chloe Kelly x Léon!Reader; Mapi Léon x sister!reader; Ella Toone + Georgia Stanway x Female!Reader (besties)

Summary:

Type: Fluff

Warning: nothing

words count: 3334

--------

London - Manchester. Manchester - London. Whatever the direction, it became a usual trip for you during those recent years. Well, dating a Citizen player while you played for Chelsea, and let's not talk about the fact that you played for Spain and her England, meant you had to make compromises sometimes. 

You came to the WSL in the 2017-18 season; you played for Everton after some good seasons at Athletico Madrid. There you met Chloe; everything was new for you, so she helped you install yourself in the country. She showed you a lot of places, and you met a lot of people who'd become part of the England squad. At the end of the 19/20 season, you moved from Liverpool to London, where you signed a contract with the Blues.

At Chelsea, everything was good except when you had to play in the Champions League finals against your sister and her team. Unfortunately for the London club, you got injured in the semifinal. Without  one of their best defenders in their squad, the Blues lost against FC Barcelona. Except that the other worst moments was when you played against your girlfriend; you know how good she is, and it's really difficult for anyone to defend against her (except McCabe, but she's not really defending).

After three years in the capital's club, you received some interesting offers from different clubs: Bayern, Wolfsburg, Real Madrid, and even Lyon, but you decided to join another club in blue, well, sky blue. But your girlfriend is totally unaware of that, like almost everyone else, because you wanted to surprise her.

~~~

Today was a particular day; the Lionesses should take a flight to Australia the next day, and your girlfriend decided to spend her free time with you. It was still early in the morning when your phone started buzzing next to you. It was disturbing, but you didn't want to wake up yet until the woman next to you groaned.

"Y/n, I swear if you don't tell whoever texted you to shut up, I'll throw your phone through the window." Chloe said with her head pressed harder against the pillow.

"Calmate hermosa; I'll check that." You said before grabbing your phone to see a lot of messages from more people than you expected. 

Maps[yesterday]:

¿Vienes a casa para vacaciones?(Are you coming home for vacation?)

Leila[8:30 a.m]:

The girls know

Ella[8:40 a.m]:

Please tell me you don't join the wrong side

Lauren[8:42 a.m]:

are you really coming?

I need to tell Chloe

Niamh[8:43 a.m]:

Sam and Guro are still pouting

Mama P[8:44 a.m]:

Jessie is still crying you need to do something

Mama M[8:44 a.m]:

Don't forget your sunscreen

Mama P[now]:

Magda reminds you to not forget your sunscreen

"Who are they?" The blonde was a little more awake than earlier.

"Just Magda and Pernille...and Niamh and Mapi." You replied before quickly texting, 'don't tell anything to Chloe; it's not official' to Ella and Lauren.

"Okay, now come back to sleep with me." The winger said, but you reluctantly declined the proposition.

"I really want that, but the girls are coming for lunch and I need to cook something," the Mancunian groaned and grabbed her phone.

"It's only 9 a.m."

"Yeah, I know, but I also have to call my sister and make our breakfast." You informed her and kissed her forehead before leaving the bedroom.

Chloe wanted to go back to sleep, but she couldn't without you, so she just checked her notifications and saw a text from Lauren.

Lauren[8:43 a.m]:

I have a big surprise for you

Chloe [8:57 a.m]:

???

Lauren[now]:

I heard someone say that we will pair together for the world cup

Chloe[now]:

Like always🙄

Your girlfriend knew there was something that her friend didn't tell her, but she didn't want to push her. When the winger finally came to the kitchen, she saw you cook with one of her Manchester City training kits. She approached you carefully, wrapped her arms around your waist, and landed her head on your shoulder.

"How can I help you?" She asked you.

"Just sit and look pretty." You commanded.

A few minutes later, Chole was sitting on the kitchen counter scrolling through TikTok while you were cooking. Everything was good until she found a tik-tok talking about the departure of Ona. It was not surprising at first, but the video caught her attention when the person behind it started to speculate about your possible departure to join Barcelona too. Of course, some fans had theories about you coming back to Spain after a lot of years in England.

You were too focused to not burn your breakfast and texted your sister that you hadn't noticed your girlfriend looking at you suspiciously; honestly, some theories started to gain her attention. She knew that last season you denied the offer of a Spanish team that wanted you, justifying it by the fact that you wanted to finish your contract with the Blues, but now what is keeping you in England?

"Babe? What do you think about going to Barcelona?" The winger asked you.

You took a moment to think about it. "Uh, I don't know; we need to schedule for the next season and wait until you come back from Australia, hopefully with a trophy, and I also need to ask Maps if it's good for her to let us stay in her apartment." You explained, totally unaware of the true meaning behind this simple question.

"Oh, okay." There was a little silence; she continued to scroll on her phone until you finished your episode. You turned your eyes off your phone and made your way to the blonde, leaving some kisses on her face, making the English girl giggle. "What are you doing?"

"I'm hungry." You replied.

"But you're cooking."

"Yes, and I finished it, so let's do something together." You finished your sentence with a trail of kisses from her lips to her neck.

"Babe, the girls are coming in 2 hours." She stopped you.

"I know."

"And you just cook the breakfast."

"I think I can do something in a little more than an hour, so let's have a little time for us." You said lifting her from the chair made her yelp and almost let her phone slip.

"Twenty minutes." She whispered firmly, just a few centimeters away from your lips.

"Twenty minutes." You agreed before leading her to the bedroom.

~~~

Twenty minutes later, you were both in the bathroom taking a bath, and she was sitting in front of you with her back against your chest. You were playing with her hands and the water, trying to steal some kisses between her giggles.

"Did you finish packing your things?" You asked, and she hummed to reply. "Are you sure? Did you pack some tissues? Alana said it was really cold there during this period of the year."

"Yes, don't worry. I checked everything twice." She replied, you wanted to say something, but she cut you off. "No, I'll not unpack everything to let you check." She prevented you.

You sighed and landed your head on her shoulder. "I'm just worried, mi corazon. The last time you flew somewhere without me, you almost forgot your passport." You reminded her, and she chuckled.

"Yes, but don't worry, Lauren will not let it happen again." She joked, and you nodded.

"Okay, I love being here with you, but we will have a lot of hungry girls in one hour, and I need to start to cook." You said getting out of the bathtub.

"How can I help you now?" Chloe asked again.

You thought a moment before replying, "Nothing; just stay there and look good for me." You said and gave her a little on her forehead.

"There is someone who's really looking good right now." She replied with a flirtatious tone.

"Pervert!" You shot just before taking your towel and leaving the room.

~~~

An hour later, you were finishing a paella request by almost every girl while you were making conversation with the citizen until someone rang at the door. When Chloe opened the door, she was met with none less than ten girls chatting loudly. You smiled when you heard the noises coming from the living room. You didn't have time to go to the kitchen before hearing two voices enter the room.

"Y/n!!" Georgia called you very excited.

"Why do you always look surprised to see me, knowing I almost live here?" You asked and accepted her hug.

"I missed you." The midfielder said.

"Me too, pequeña soldadera (little warrior)." 

"You still use this Spanish nickname?" 

"Always." You said with a cocky smile before walking to the other girl in the room. "Hola, I didn't think you would come." You said to Leila, your national teammates, well, not anymore because you were one of 'The 15'.

"Where do you want me to be? I mean, I'll never say no to free food and cooking by the best Spanish cooker in Manchester, no, in England." The older defender said.

"You say it because Ona came back to Barça?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe." She replied, almost questioning herself; you gasped and playfuly slapped her arm.

"Don't worry, Y/n, you're still my favourite Spanish cooker." Georgia said while the three of you were joining the others in the kitchen.

"You say that because you don't have any Spanish teammates in Munich." You replied, and the girls laughed.

In the living room, there were more guests than you planned. There were Ella Toone, Alessia Russo, Maya Le Tissier, Katie Zelem, and Mary Earps, your Manchester's players friends—well, it was no longer valid for Alessia—and there were Chloe's City's teammates: Alana Kennedy, Lauren Hemp, Alex Greenwood, Laila Ouahabi, Laia Alexandri, and Esme Morgan. And some pluses: Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze were here because they were ex-city players; McKenzie Arnold, who was brought by Alana (you always liked her, so why not); and of course your best friend Georgia Stanway, who brought Leah Williamson to complete their famous trio.

"Now that I see it from here, it's a lot of people." Laila said.

"You even invited some people who don't play for Manchester." Georgia commented, referring to McKenzie and Leah. You and the defender just looked at her before exchanging a confused look.

"A veces me pregunto cómo se hicieron mejores amigos. (Sometimes I'm really wondering how you two became best friends.)" The older woman said to you.

"¿Por qué? técnicamente no es falso. (Why? Technically, it's not false.)" You replied before a body crashed against you. "Wow, calmate Ella." You said laughing a little.

"Please tell me you'll choose the right Manchester." The offensive midfielder whispered to you with a big pout.

"Uh, yes? I mean, yeah, but why do you ask?"

"The girls find an article saying that since Ona made her comeback in Barcelona, you could leave too." Alessia informed you. In the corner of the couch, almost no one noticed, but Chloe tensed when she heard what Alessia said—almost no one because Laia wrapped an arm around the winger to ease her mind.

"Okay, I don't know what you're talking about, but let's eat because it'll get cold." You avoided the question, and that didn't go unnoticed by three players.

After eating in a very good atmosphere, you spent all your time cuddling Chloe and making jokes with Leah and Laila about the fact that you weren't selected for the World Cup. Some girls decided to watch a movie, and you happily agreed. You were in the kitchen making some snacks when you heard someone clearing their throats. Before hearing some footsteps, you turned around to see Ella, Georgia, and Laila exchanging looks.

"Are you alright, girls?" You asked a little confused.

"Y/n, can we talk?" The Red Devil asked a little shyly.

"Yeah, I just need to give this to the girls." You said referring to the plate of snacks in front of you.

"Yes, of course, we will wait." Georgia said you noticed something strange in her tone, but you didn't question it. Only two minutes later, you were back in the room with the three women.

You sat beside Ella in front of Georgia and Laila. "Is there something wrong?" You asked when none of them spoke.

"Y/n, we've known each other for a long time now, don't we?" Ella asked, and you nodded.

You clearly remember the day you met her for the first time and the time you became friends. It was during the season 17/18, you just left Athletico Madrid to try your luck in England at Everton. There you met Chloe for the first time, and it instantly clicked; it was love at first sight. For Tooney, you met her the first time you played against her, when she was playing for the other team in Manchester.

For Georgia, you met her in the street of the city before you saw her again on the pitch, but she was very kind with you, and for someone who had been in a new country for only a few months, you were very grateful. She helped you progress in English, and she even gave you some advice with your girlfriend when she was just your crush.

And for Laila, you met her for the first time while you visited your sister in Spain while she was playing for Barça. When you made your first step on the senior national team, she helped you (with your sister, Jeni, and Alexia, of course) with everything and every question, and you both play as defenders, so you trained together. When she came to Manchester, Mapi made a promise to take care of you, even if it was you who helped her the most when she was still installing.

"Yeah?" You replied, a little unsure of where it would end.

"So can you be honest with us? So about earlier, you know we will not be angry if you leave." Laila reassured you.

"Yeah, I know it's just that everything is complicated, and I don't want to leave Chloe." You said. Talking about her, your girlfriend was about to make her way in the kitchen, but she stopped when she heard her name. She knew it was very bad, but she couldn't help herself.

"Is it Barcelona?" Georgia asked, and you nodded, making the midfielder grumble, "Why do they want you when they already signed Ona?" 

"Because we didn't play at the same position." You said. "But they're not the only ones who made offers. There are also Wolfsburg and Paris Saint Germain." 

"Why don't you come with me to Bayern?" 

"No, if you need to leave, you should come to Manchester City."

"Or you can join me here."

"Okay girls, let's forget about it; they gave me until the end of the month to accept it or not. Now, let's just watch a movie and chill until you have to leave." You stopped their debate. Before you could see her, Chloe quickly came back on the couch beside Lauren, and you sat on her other side.

The rest of the day, your girlfriend seemed preoccupied by something, but she refused to tell you what.

The lunch was very cool; everybody was happy, and the girls didn't split anything. The next day, the girls had to leave, and you had a flight to Spain that you couldn't miss.

~~~

Your holidays were pretty good; you were just enjoying life with your sister, but somewhere you were missing your girlfriend. Because the World Cup was in New Zealand and Australia, you weren't awake at the same time.

On the other side of the world, Chloe was missing you, really missing you. She could handle every time you spent your holiday in Spain with your family, but now it wasn't a holiday for her, and you should be here with your national team. Unfortunately for her, every time she thought she couldn't miss you more, Lauren James, and Niamh were talking about you.

For you, after a week and a half in Spain, you had to fly back to England before going to Australia. You arrived in Australia between two matches of the Lionesses and, more importantly, just two days before the public training.

Knowing you would come to their training session, Lauren Hemp and Ella couldn't stop teasing Chloe about how much she missed you.

At the training, everyone was more focused knowing that it was public. You successfully found a place not so far from the ground as to not be immediately recognized. Chloe nailed it pretty well; she had only one thing on her mind: finish this and quickly come back to the hotel to call you.

When training finished, the citizen stayed behind to talk with fans and take pictures. She was not alone because Georgia and Ella were following her and, most importantly, looking for you. Stopping in front of a group of girls, the three started to do as usual until something caught Georgia's attention.

"Hey, look at that," she said to Ella, holding a Manchester City shirt someone gave her.

"It's the new one." Ella commented, and the Red Devil turned the shirt to find a big surprise. The two midfielders exchanged a confused look before looking at the crowd and finally seeing you.

"No way," Georgia whispered.

"It's a betrayal." You saw Ella mouthing Being too focused on you, they didn't see their teammates coming until the shirt slipped out of the Bayern player's hand.

"Where did you find that?" Chloe asked, but she didn't wait for answers before starting to sign it. It was just after she finished that she decided to look at the back. She paused for a moment. She thought it was a mistake or just a joke until she heard someone speak.

"I hope you like my surprise." You said this after you noticed she was too stunned to speak. Hearing your voice brought the winger back to reality; she looked at you, more surprised and happy than she ever was.

She didn't wait too long before she trapped you in a bone-crushing hug. You stayed like this for a few seconds until she pulled away, immediately closing the gap between you with a lovely kiss.

"I missed you too, mi corazon." You said after you pulled away when oxygen was needed.

"But what are you doing here, and most importantly, what is this?" She asked and showed you the shirt she just signed.

"Let's just say that I have a new team, and I wanted to announce it to you before you see it on the internet." You replied.

"So it's not a joke? We'll really play together next season?" She asked like it was the most unthinkable thing in the world.

"Yes, we will." You confirmed.

"But, Barcelona, and your sister?"

"Well, yeah, I'm really impatient to play with my sister again, but I think it can wait a little longer. And technically, I'm more related to Athletico Madrid than Barça."

"I don't know what to say. It's incredible; I would never believe that this day would come." She cupped your face and pressed her lips against yours just before being interrupted by her teammate.

"Traitor!" Ella yelled, making you laugh.

"Don't worry, I have another one for you." You said before throwing a shirt at her. She made a fake disgusting face, making you laugh again.

"I only keep it because you're my best friend." The United's players informed you.

"Yeah, yeah, but don't forget you also played for them."

"Sorry, I can't hear you." She said with her hands pressing against her ears.

"Okay, now I think you need to go, but don't worry, I'll come stay there to hopefully see you lift the trophy." You said to your girlfriend before giving her a last peck on the lips.

"I already miss you." The blonde striker said.

"I know; now go and win this for us." 

"I promise."

================

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #chloe kelly #chloe kelly x reader #lauren hemp x reader #ella toone x reader #georgia stanway x reader #mapi león #mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #ella toone #georgia stanway #lauren hemp

[worseforwords]

Manchester Memories (Ona Batlle x Reader)

Part two to this fic, I recommend you read part one first.

Did you really just pull an Amy? As if on cue, your phone started ringing: FaceTime, Amy. 

“Hey Ames, how’s Par-” “Y/N What the fuck!?” She cut you off. You looked at her questioningly. “What, are you like, eating truffle stuffed golden oysters for breakfast?” She yelled at the screen. You realise she must have noticed your excessive spending on her creditcard. “Yeah, sorry about that.” You started, suddenly looking away from the camera. “I figured I deserved it though, given you just ditched me last moment.” “Hm.” Amy took a moment to consider your argument. “Okay, fair enough. But it has to end here!” “Fine, I’ll stop.” You chuckled. “Seriously though what did you eat?” She asked. “I may have ordered breakfast for two.” You mumbled. “Were you that hungry?” Amy started, before noticing your cheeks starting to flush. “OH MY GOD, you had a guest! You should’ve just started with that. I’d love to financially support your love- and/or sex life!” Amy shrieked. “Amy, Jesus, calm down. Yes I had someone over. It was fun. Now let’s move on, how’s Paris?” You quickly changed the subject. “How’s erm, I feel like his name is Logan, or Levi?” “It’s Lewis, actually. Paris is beautiful, so is Lewis, formidable guy, great in bed, blah blah blah.” She quickly summed up. “Now we’ve gotten that out of the way: TELL. ME. EVERYTHING! Spare no details.” Knowing very well she wasn’t going to drop this, you told her the whole story, starting at the coffeeshop.

“Oh my god Y/N/N.” she said when you had finally finished your story. “What?” “You’re in looove!” She teased. “Wha- no I’m not. I just met her yesterday.” “Doesn’t matter, you are sweet for the Spaniard, mad for the Mancunian, lovesick for lobster-girl, enamorado de la chica española!” As much as you wanted to hang up and hide the smile on your tomato-red face, you couldn’t help but laugh at her quickly devised alliterations. “Shut up, Ames.” You mumbled in between laughs. “Oh man, I’ve only once seen you this flustered before, you’re in deep mate.” She said. “Whatever,” you answered. “I’m only here for a few days anyways.” “Now don’t be like that Y/N/N, you can always move to Manchester. Do it for looooove.” “Okay calm down. I have a life to go back to remember? I’m not like you Amy.” “Well, I’m not so sure about that anymore.” She chuckled. “Anyways, I have to go. Lewis is taking me to the Eiffel Tower. At least promise me you’ll make the most out of the time you have together?” “Yeah, I will. Have fun Ames!” “You too babes, talk to you soon!”

The next two days were spend on cloud 9. Ona had a busy training schedule, but made an effort to text you in between sessions whenever she could. As soon as she was done you’d meet up and hang out the rest of the day. You went on many walks, talked about anything and everything, visited random places in Manchester Ona had never even heard about and just enjoyed each others presence. You were pretty sure you were already gaining abs from all the fits of laughter you two shared. By the evening of the second day, neither of you felt like going out for dinner anymore, and Ona offered to cook for you at her apartment. Her roommate was staying at her girlfriends house, so you had the place all to yourself. You filled up on the Ona’s dinner (which was delicious by the way), before cuddling up on the couch to attempt watching the Lion King again. You actually finished the movie this time which you then, as Ona stated, had to celebrate. You happily obliged, and you spend the night there, leaving your luxurious hotel suite empty for the night. 

You woke up to the sound of keys rumbling and the front door opening and closing. You turned around to discover your human pillow was no longer there. You found a note saying: “Off to get us some breakfast. Back in a bit.” You decided to stay in bed, hoping to persuade Ona into coming back to bed. “Ona!” A voice called, that clearly didn’t belong to Ona herself. You panicked, desperately grasping around you in search of something to cover up your nakedness. As you heard footsteps approaching the room you were in, you quickly picked up the nearest shirt you could find, which was the one Ona wore yesterday. You had barely put it over your head when the door flew open. “Ona have you seen my shin p- Oh. You’re not Ona.” The blond girl in the dooropening stated. “That is correct” The both of you were quiet for a second, whilst her eyes scanned over your messy hair, the clothes scattered on the floor and Ona’s shirt you were wearing, which you now realised was on backwards. “You erm, want some coffee or something?” She asked. “Yeah, sure” you said quietly. The blond girl, which you assumed was Ona’s roommate, finally closed the door, giving you some time to actually put some clothes on. You went to the kitchen and she handed you a cup. “I’m Millie by the way.” She smiled. “Hi, I’m Y/N” “So,” she started “you must be the reason Ona has been so absent these past days.” She chuckled, seeing your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Before you could answer you heard the jingling of keys. “Thank god.” You thought to yourself. 

“Millie!” Ona shouted, also turning red immediately. “What are you doing here?” “Forgot my shin pads. Good morning to you too by the way” She was now grinning, clearly very amused about what she walked in on. You and Ona exchanged some looks as she mouthed “I’m sorry” to you. “Oh I love this. Everyone is going to hear about this at training later.” Millie teased, winking at you. “Are you bringing her tonight?” She asked, turning to look at Ona. Ona didn’t answer, instead just looking at you with a bittersweet smile. You both knew you had to leave this afternoon, so this was your last day together. “All right then, guess I’ll leave you two to it” Millie said when no one answered her question. After she shut the door you both burst out laughing, letting out all the tension from before. “Sorry about that.” Ona said once she recovered.

You plopped down on the couch whilst Ona started unpacking the breakfast she got you. “We are having a small party tonight. You could come if you want to?” She asked. You hesitated for a bit. “Ona, you know I-” “Please Y/N, one more night?” She now stood in front of you, handing you a plate and looking at you with a shy smile. You’d already skipped your plans to go to Birmingham to extend your Manchester stay, but you had promised to meet up with a friend in London, and you didn’t want to become a true Amy by ditching them. But damn the puppy dog eyes staring into your soul at that very moment sure made becoming an Amy very tempting. You gathered all your self-control: “I can’t, I- I don’t even have a place to stay and-” “Stay here, with me, por favor Y/N I-” She was practically jumping up and down at this point, when her hopeful expression suddenly changed. “I’m sorry, I’m being way to pushy. You don’t have to stay.” She hastily left to grab some cutlery, missing the pitiful expression in your face. “Ona” you said softly, following her into the kitchen. She didn’t look up from the drawer she was rummaging through. “One more night, but I leave in the morning. Bueno?” She turned around, dropping everything she had in her hands and ran towards you. She embraced you as her strong arms easily lifted you up in the air and you wrapped your legs around her waist. “Thank you thank you thank you” she said and you felt her smile into your neck.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. Ona went to training, where she’d presumably be interrogated about the discovery her roommate made this morning. You went back to your hotel to gather your stuff and pack your suitcase. After checking out, you decided to do some shopping. You went to a thrift store for a bit, but grew tired of it quickly, remembering you don’t actually enjoy shopping. When you walked back out, you noticed an adorable little jewellery store in the alley across the street. You walked in to be met with the friendliest smile you had ever seen from the elderly woman behind the counter. You looked around for a while, until you laid your eyes on a golden necklace with a little lion on it. “The perfect souvenir.” you thought.

“You ready?” Ona screamed through the bathroom door. “Almost” you answered, putting on your new necklace before opening the door. “You look great. I like the necklace” Ona said upon seeing you. “Thank you, so do you.” You smiled. “You ready?” She asked again, making sure you're okay with going out to meet all of her teammates. “They can be quite intense, just so you know.” She looked ay you questioningly. “I will be fine, Hakuna Matata, no worries.” You smiled softly. She smiled back. “Hakuna Matata.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, I’m Alessia.” Said the girl opening the door for you. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” You held out your hand but she quickly pulled you into a tight hug. You walked into the apartment to find that chaos had already erupted. Girls screaming random things at each other left and right. “See, I told you, intense.” Ona chuckled at your at your stunned expression. “Now come on, I’ll introduce you”. The following hour she dragged you across the room, introducing you to basically everyone there. Some teasing happened, but for the most part everyone had been really nice. As the night progressed everyone started getting tipsier. The music was turned up and people started to dance. Some of the girls you met earlier dragged you onto the dance floor and you danced with them for a while.  When you walked into the kitchen for a drink, Alessia was already there, preparing some snacks. “Enjoying yourself?” She asked. “Yes, everyone is being so nice to me.” You smiled. “Of course we are. We wouldn’t dare be rude to a girl Ona speaks so highly of.” She grinned. “She does?” You blushed. “She does. She really likes you Y/N. She couldn’t stop talking about you at training today.” You smiled softly at her words. “I really like her too.” You said, staring at the ceiling in thought. “But you’re leaving tomorrow, right?” Alessia’s words put you right back down on earth, you felt a knot in your stomach and the soft smile disappeared from your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. Forget I ever said anything.” She put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, really, you’re not wrong.” You said, quickly looking away as you felt your eyes starting to water. “I’m just going to get some fresh air.” You hastily turned around, hoping she didn’t notice.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice coming from behind you. The cold air on your skin actually helped, slightly numbing your sadness, as you sat on a bench outside. “Are you okay?” She asked, slowly approaching you. “Here, put your coat on, you’ll catch a cold.” Ona handed you your coat. The cold was no longer numbing enough once you looked into the beautiful eyes that now seemed to be looking into your soul. It simultaneously soothed you and broke you down, ultimately causing you to release a single tear. Ona quickly sat down next to you wrapping both arms around you. “Can you tell me what’s up?” She asked softly. “Tomorrow, I have to go.” You spoke quietly. She hugged you tighter, putting her head in the crook of your neck. You sat in silence for a bit, enjoying her embrace, when you felt something wet in your neck. You pulled away from the embrace to see she was now also getting teary eyed. You cupped her face and you both stared at each other. There was no point in trying to hold it in anymore, and both of you started sobbing uncontrollably. Then, somehow, the sobbing turned into laughter. You sat together laugh-crying for a while before you took a deep breath and said: “Come on, let’s have some fun while we still can, okay?” You finally said, standing up and reaching out your hand. “Yes, let’s do that. Hakuna Matata.”

You went back inside and Ona immediately dragged you to the dance floor, ignoring all the stares from her teammates at your tear-stained faces. The both of you danced like there was no tomorrow, and the rest of the girls joined in. Ona was about to attempt the worm, when the song suddenly changed. You immediately recognised it: Can you feel the love tonight, from the Lion King.

You turned around to see Millie had taken control over the phone connected to the speaker, smirking at the two of you. “You told them?” You chuckled. Ona blushed as you grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to you. You put your head on her shoulder as slow danced together for the whole duration of the song, not noticing how everyone had left the dance floor to leave you two be. When the song was ending you lifted your head back up, but you didn’t break the embrace. You gazed into each others eyes for a bit, before slowly closing the space between you for a slow, passionate kiss. It ended rather abruptly however, when the Spice Girls sudden blasted through the speaker. “No no no, stupid autoplay” Millie sprinted back to the phone to turn it off as fast as she could. “Sorry about that. Don’t mind me, please continue.” You both giggled as she sprinted away again. “Want to get out of here?” Ona asked. “Yes please”

You woke up to the sound of soft snores. You lay there looking at the beautiful girl in front of you for a while, taking it all in one last time, before quietly leaving the bed. You decided against waking her, instead you left a note on her nightstand:

“Thank you for everything, I had an amazing time with you, you made Manchester magical. I will never forget it.

Adéu Ona, Te echaré de menos.

Love,

Y/N

PS: Hakuna Matata”

You put your necklace with the little lion on it next to the note and placed a small kiss on Ona’s forehead. As you opened the door to leave the room, a small ray of light fell on her face. You glanced at the scene a little longer than intended, until you noticed her eyelids had slightly started to tremble. You quickly made your way out, taking a deep breath before closing the front door. 

As you walked towards the busstation, you smiled at the sun starting to rise and suddenly, Amy’s words came to mind: “Make the most out of the time you have together.” That you did. 

Part 3 out now

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #muwfc x reader #espwnt x reader

[levithestripper]

Kiss Me Through the Phone

masterlist

warnings: fem reader, phone sex (day 21), set before the war, name-calling, mutual masturbation, voice kink, breeding kink, mentions of f! receiving oral sex, come eating, praise kink.

relationship: tom bennett/reader.

characters: tom bennett, reader.

length: 1.4k || read on ao3

⤷ if you want to be added to the taglist click here

summary: you and your family are in italy, having finally saved enough money to take a dream vacation. that leaves tom home alone, with nothing to do but miss you. but late-night phone calls help to starve off that loneliness you both feel.

a/n: i finished world on fire yesterday and i went absolutely feral for tom and gregorsz. gif credit goes to the wonderful @ewansmitchells!!

“I miss you, love,” Tom sighs into the phone, arm draped over his forehead as he lays in bed. Typically when he has the house to himself like this, you’ll be knocking at his door, but you’re on vacation with your family in Italy, leaving him all alone. “My bed misses you too.”

You could practically hear the shit-eating smirk spreading across Tom’s face. “Tom!” you giggle, twirling the telephone cord around your fingers. “I’ll be back before you know it, darling.” The base of the phone sat on the nightstand, letting you lay back onto your pillow, your hair sprawling out above you.

“Seems like you’ve been gone forever yet; it’s only been a week,” he chuckles, his arm moving from his face to rest behind his head. “Already miss how you look when you’re on top a me.” Tom’s Mancunian accent thickened with his words. He hears you rustle through the phone’s receiver, only serving to fan the flames of his ego. “Did I strike a cord there, sweetheart?”

You drag the base of the telephone down onto the bed with you as an involuntary whine escapes your lips. “Tommy, no fair!” you grumble, hugging the stuffed bear he bought you for your birthday last year. You own a few stuffed animals, but the bear has a permanent home in between the pillows on your bed.

Tom snickers, clearly proud of himself. “No fair, love? Sure sounds fair to me.” He slides out of his trousers, palming himself through the fabric of his boxers. “Don’t you like the thought of it, hun? Sitting on my face, cumming all over my chin like the good girl I know you are.” Tom groans into the phone, pulling his half-hard cock out from the confines of his underwear. “God, I can’t wait to taste you again once you come home. Your pretty pussy always tastes so fuckin’ good.”

The first time Tom went down on you, you swear to God that you saw heaven when you came. He must be blessed with a magic tongue; it’s the only logical explanation. He had you laying on your back with his face between your legs, nose buried in your slick folds. His pupils were blown wide, the ring of his blue irises barely visible. Tom’s muscled hands were clamped around your thighs, keeping you in place and preventing you from squirming away.

Another whine slips past your lips, dragging you from your thoughts. Your thighs press together, attempting to alleviate the arousal growing between your legs. “Tommy, baby,” you groan, your free hand moving to press against your mound. “You can’t just say stuff like that when you’re not here to deal with the consequences!” You rub yourself through the dampened fabric, legs shaking.

“Aww,” he chuckles, “you really think that’s gonna stop me?” Tom strokes himself slowly, stopping to spit on his palm before continuing. “You really think that’s gonna stop me from tellin’ you how badly I want you?” His legs spread apart, one knee up for comfort. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing, love.” The phone rests between his head and shoulder, leaving a hand free.

Tom’s words shot electricity down your spine and straight towards your cunt, leaving you tingling and somehow wetter than before. There’s a prominent stain on the crotch of your panties now, and you can only imagine the filthy things Tom would say to you if he saw. “I’m wearing the nightgown you bought me.” He must’ve saved up for months to buy it for you. It’s made of soft silk and goldenrod in color, accenting your features beautifully. The first night you wore it for him is perpetually seared into Tom’s memory. Tom had to apologize to the neighbors the following morning.

You heard him moan through the receiver, the sound causing your clit to throb achingly. “You know I love that one, sweetheart. You wear that just for me, pretty girl?” You nod as if Tom could see you. Your slim fingers slip past your panties, rubbing quick, small circles against your dripping folds.

“Mhm—” a moan cuts you off, but you can’t tell whether it’s yours or Tom’s. “Know how much you like it, baby. I miss you so much.” Small whimpers escape your lips, giving away just how desperate you are for him.

“Mmh, fuck, my love,” he groans, his hand speeding up. His wrist twists when it reaches the tip, effortlessly pulling another moan from him. His thumb rubs circles against the sweet spot right underneath the crown, occasionally teasing the vein that ran along next to it. “Wish this was your hand instead. Your hand feels good when it’s wrapped around my cock.” Tom shifts to lay slightly on his side, making it easier to hold the phone up to his ear. “Are you touching yourself, baby? Fucking yourself to the sound of my voice?” he asks, accent thickening again.

Pleasure courses through you, your index and middle fingers sliding inside your tight cunt. “I am—I am, Tommy, baby! Your voice sounds so good,” you choke out a sob as your thighs begin to shake. The pads of your fingers press against your gummy walls, eagerly looking for the spot that drives you mad. “Tom—Tommy, please!” you sob as your fingers find your sweet spot. “Need you to fuck me; I need your thick cock, your fingers, all of you!” Slick gushes out around your hand, staining the bedsheets with your arousal.

Tom mumbles curses through his teeth, jaw clenching tightly shut. His hand moves at an inhuman speed, precum dripping down his shaft to pool around his balls. “I’m gonna fuck your cunt nice ’n full when you get back. Leave you stuffed and dripping when we’re done.” His eyes roll back halfway, teeth gnawing at his thin bottom lip. “Fuck, sweetheart, are you close?” His stomach rolls as an overwhelming amount of pleasure washes over him, his voice sounding just as debauched as yours.

“Want that s’bad—s’badly, oh my God, honey; want you to fuck me full’a your cum,” your voice cracks and warbles as your orgasm comes closer and closer to taking over. “I’m close, I’m so close! Wanna cum ’round your cock, baby.” Your thumb comes up to press against your swollen clit, electrifying, overwhelming lust shooting through every nerve in your body.

Tom fucked into his fist, his thumb brushing against the tip with every thrust. “I’m close too, love; let’s cum together, yeah?”

You nod, forgetting that he couldn’t see you. “Mmh gonna cum, To—Tommy!” Your voice drawls out his name, mouth failing to remember English as your orgasm finally crashes into you. Your thighs shook, and your back arched as your fingers fucked you through it.

Hearing you orgasm pushes Tom over the edge, hips stuttering as he cums into his spit-slickened fist. “Shit, shit, sweetheart—that’s it, fuck,” he sputters, beads of thick spunk rolling down his knuckles. “You sound so beautiful when you cum for me, baby.” His chest heaves from his heavy breathing, mimicking your own out-of-breath panting. “How do you feel, love? You still with me?”

“Mhmm, I’m still here,” you sigh, floating in your pleasant post-orgasm haze. “That was s’much fun, baby.” Your digits pull out slowly to prevent overstimulation, the pads wrinkly and dripping with your cum.

He hums in agreement, sucking his cum off of his fingers. “Good, good. Now, can you do one more thing for me, love?”

“Mmhm.”

“Suck your cum off your fingers for me, sweetheart. Can’t let something so good go to waste, can we?” You noisily lick your hand clean, ensuring Tom heard it. “That’s my good girl, yeah?”

You nod again, a smile spreading across your face. “Your good girl.” Rolling over on your side, you switch your phone to the other ear, yawning. “I love you, Tommy. Call you again tomorrow?”

He yawns after you do, finding your exhaustion contagious. He rolls over on his side fully now, pulling his comforter up to his chin. “Call you again tomorrow,” he agrees. “I love you too, honey.” You were asleep by the time he said it back, but you loved it regardless.

Tom didn’t hang up the phone, desiring to fall asleep to the sweet sound of your steady breathing. When he closes his eyes, he pretends that you’re sleeping next to him, your head resting on his chest, arms around his stomach. He loves the silent, comfortable silence after intimate moments such as this, giving him the chance to daydream about his future life with you.

taglist: @ban-canram, @its-deputy-caleb

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #wof #world on fire x reader #wof x reader #ewan mitchell

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 4

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |-| Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

AO3

Summary: Years before Susie's arrival at Thorpe Abbotts, one fateful loss changes the course of her life forever

Warnings: Grief, death, language, ANGST, dysfunctional family idk

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

January, 1941

The church was quiet, rows of pews worn and bare. Sunlight flooded in through the tall, narrow windows, casting blocks of light against whitewashed walls, and the low, gentle chatter of guests in the doorway did nothing to rouse Susie from her daze, huddled at the furthest end of the front row of pews, tucked into the corner as if it would make her invisible. An old bible rested on the bench beside her, tattered and yellowed, and she ran her thumb across the blunted corners of the paper, never venturing far enough to open it, the words repulsive to her.

Her mother's voice always plucked itself from a crowd, that warm, Irish lilt in stark contrast against the rough, Mancunian drawl possessed by her children, as if they belonged to the city before they did her. She didn't bother listening in to the others' conversations - didn't try to distinguish the voices of strangers from those of her blood. None of them could have had anything even remotely interesting to say to her.

The pew creaked beside her, and Susie glanced up as Beatrice took her seat, leaving a few metres of separation between the pair of them. Three years her elder, her sister dressed head-to-toe in black, gloved hands clutching at her purse, hair curling neatly below her ears, immaculately done makeup obscured by the veil that hung in front of her face. Susie looked down at her own clothes - a white button down, an old brown skirt - it wasn't right, wasn't traditional or proper, but it was what she had.

"No husband?" She asked, a hint of an edge lacing her voice. Beatrice sucked in a long breath, chest heaving with the weight of it.

"No. He's busy."

"I bet he is."

Finally turning to look at her, venom in her gaze, Beatrice opened her mouth to speak, Susie already itching to interrupt her. But both fell silent, jaws snapping shut as another figure sat down in between them, a human barrier to prevent the inevitable spat before it could form.

"Always classy, girls," Sally huffed, newborn cradled in one arm, the other elbow propped up against the back of the pew as she kept an eye on her other son.

Beatrice sighed, posture relaxing as she let go of the offensive. No one questioned Sally - the eldest sister who had lifted them in her arms the way she now did her own children, who had wiped their tears and cleaned their scraped knees when their parents had been preoccupied. So much older and wiser than the rest of them, there was a removal there, as if she could no longer quite be considered their sister, their equal.

Susie shifted in her seat, wincing slightly as a dull ache shot through her thigh. She could feel Sally's gaze fixed on her. "Susie," She spoke gently, the infant in her arms gurgling away to itself. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"Four hours."

"Jesus Christ," Beatrice muttered, staring up at the altar, unable to tear her eye from the framed photo of Ellie that beamed back at them. They'd chosen a photo of her as a child - why had they done that? That wasn't the Ellie she'd pulled from the rubble the morning after the bombs had fallen. That wasn't the Ellie shut away inside the casket. She didn't remember her that way. Anyone who did wasn't welcome here in Susie's eyes.

A clatter of books against the stone floor sounded behind them as Sally's other son knocked over a pile of Bibles, guilt flushing his cheeks a bright red as the crowd gathered by the door turned to stare. With a quick summons from his mother, he scrambled to his seat, little feet dangling over the edge of the pew, hands fidgeting restlessly. She heaved a long, heavy sigh, unable to look at the altar for more than a few seconds at a time. "At least she's with dad now."

Susie hummed. She didn’t have the heart to tell her she didn’t believe in God anymore.

They were separated irreparably now. Even today, not everyone was here. Ronnie and Patrick were still away fighting overseas, and Nancy had been noisily sobbing in the back corner since she arrived, her son sitting awkwardly in the opposite pew waiting for it all to be over. The sound of footsteps along the aisle drew Susie's gaze, and something lifted within her.

"Owen," She breathed, jumping to her feet and bounding over to meet her big brother. His eyes were bloodshot, gaze jittery and unable to meet hers - but then again, he never had liked to look her in the eye. She didn't mind it. Her hand found his arm, pressing reassuringly against the sleeve of his uniform, adorned with the emblem of the RAF Medical Services. "Come sit down, yeah?"

"Is-... Is she in the box?" He asked quietly, nervously glancing at the pallbearers.

Susie frowned, brow drawn. "No," She lied. "No, Ellie's not in there. It's just tradition - what Ma wanted."

"Ok. Yeah, ok, I'll sit," Owen nodded, and she noticed the fresh tears soaking the cuff of his sleeve from where he'd wiped them away on his way in. She offered him the seat that had once been hers, letting him press his body into the wood at the end of the bench, shying away from the crowds, shoulder hunched to avoid brushing against hers. Owen had never quite been considered normal - Ronnie used to get into trouble for beating other boys up at school in defence of his little brother - but it had only meant he never minded that Susie wasn't quite normal either. There was a solidarity in that, a shared acceptance that they weren't how the world tried to shape them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Everyone cried during the ceremony. Everyone except Susie.

A nauseating guilt swelled within her as her brother and sisters quietly wept at her sides, and she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could, willing a tear to fall, manifesting some sign of the grief within. What must they have thought of her? Her cold stare overseeing it all, flinching at every prayer. It was the perfect protestant funeral, the kind only their mother could have mustered.

She couldn't have left fast enough once it was all over, Owen's gentle grip on her cardigan using her as a guide through the crowds as they wormed their way through towards the door. Their house was a mere five doors down from the church, a looming presence throughout their childhood, a lingering reminder that someone was watching. But even in her home, she wasn't spared the misery.

Susie scarcely recognised half the people at Ellie's wake - crowding the kitchen, sitting in their chairs and lingering in the stairwell. What did any of them know - truly know - about her sister? Had they even had time to know her? Nineteen was too young to die. Too young for death to have any meaning. If the bombs had to kill someone, they should've killed Susie. At least then there'd have been some semblance of military strategy to it. No one won wars by slaughtering teenagers.

There was an empty cup in her hand as she sat at the kitchen table. She couldn't remember what had been in it. Upon the stove, the kettle was boiling, splitting the din of chatter with its unrelenting squeal. She squeezed the glass so tight she worried it might shatter, knuckles turning white with the pressure. Her mother passed behind her, absent-mindedly stroking her hair, warm palm skimming against her scalp. She wanted it to stay, wanted to lean back into it, but it was gone as soon as it came. Susie pushed her chair out, the legs screeching across the floor, bumping into a man she'd never met as she stood up, shouldering her way to the door.

It was almost silent in the attic, layers of brick and wood muffling the sound of voices. Laying back on her bed, she stared up at the roofing beams, the lingering smell of Ellie's perfume permeating the bedsheets. From the day she'd been old enough to leave the crib they'd shared this bed, shunting Patrick onto the narrow one in the corner - this was the girls' space, the floral quilts a private temple where only they existed. Lying on her side of it now, it felt uneven, like the whole thing would lose balance and tip over sideways, Ellie's presence necessary to its survival. Or maybe she was just necessary for Susie's.

Dust floated on the air, catching the light that flowed in through a leak in the ceiling. Her hand rested on the other side of the bed, the vague imprint of Ellie's body still engraved into the old mattress. It needed replacing years ago, but suddenly it was invaluable. On Christmas Eve night, the night after she'd died, Susie had stayed up all through the dark, lying in the impression of her sister, terrified it would lose her outline if she just left it there. But it never did.

The house had never been so full and so empty. Her brothers were aiding the war effort, billeted all over the place. Her sisters had all gotten married - found their own homes to raise their own children. She and Ellie had stayed up here in their attic, tucked beneath the covers like little girls again.

A creak on the stairs ripped her from her trance, her mother's head peering up through the trap door.

"I didn't know you were up here."

"That's ok."

Each floorboard let out an agonised creak as she crossed them, hands folded nervously at her front. Freshly forty years old, she looked at least a decade older, heavy bags of exhaustion tugging down on her eyelids. She wore the only black dress she owned, spotted with white polka dots, a stubborn coffee stain browning the hem where she could never quite scrub it away. The bed rocked towards Ellie's side as she climbed beneath the sheets, laying down in the space she had once owned.

All at once she seemed a child, tugging the blankets up to her chin, eyes squeezed shut as if willing sleep to claim her. She turned into Susie's side, pulling in a long breath. She wondered if she could smell Ellie here too.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" She asked meekly, like a girl begging her parents after a nightmare.

Susie's head lolled to the side, brow furrowed as she looked over at her. "Yeah, sure Ma. I'll go downstairs."

"Please don't."

It was silent for a while. Then the rustling of sheets sounded as Susie turned onto her side facing away from her mother, unable to bear staring at her for too long. She scarcely knew the woman lying next to her. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd climbed the steps to read them to sleep up here. Long gone were the days when Susie wished she would, but her absence could still be read in the room - in the drawings on the walls that no one had ever been scolded for, that no one had ever tried covering up because no one ever came to see them. This was their own little world, and she wasn't sure she wanted her mother up here at all.

"I'm sorry if I was a bad Ma," She spoke, voice muffled slightly by the pillow.

Susie took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling with it. "You tried."

If nothing else, she knew that was true. Her mother had tried. She'd made half a dozen breakfasts with a baby on one hip. She'd read every report card and double-checked their homework when she managed to understand it. She'd stifled the pain of becoming a widow to tend to the pain of a bumped head or bruised elbow.

But she'd also let them go to bed hungry. She'd lied to their schools about their birthdays so they could drop out before their time. She'd been too poor and had too many children, and Susie wasn't sure she'd ever forgive her for it.

She needed to leave this house. The prospect of sleeping alone in this bed was worse than any other fate she could imagine. Already she could feel herself sticking - if she didn't tear herself away now she never would. Could she truly face driving past the wreckage of the factories every day on her way to Ridgeway? It would take months to rebuild. Months of remembering the moment she'd see her face, blood streaking through the brick dust, eyes half open and unseeing.

"Get some sleep. I'll bring you up some tea when everyone's left," Susie muttered, peeling the sheets away from her body and climbing out of bed, rubbing her eyes with the balls of her palms.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Beatrice stood on the doorstep, a cloud of cigarette smoke wafting in front of her face as she watched a child play in the gutter outside the wash house across the yard. The four walls that encircled their court of back-to-backs had once been their entire world. She remembered it looking bigger than this. There were rumours they'd be knocking houses like these down soon - no one wanted to move into them, these dilapidated remnants of a time long passed.

The sound of feet scuffing against tile alerted her to Susie's presence, sliding into the doorway beside her, wordlessly extending her hand for a cigarette. Beatrice passed one to her, holding out a lighter, the pair exhaling puffs of smoke simultaneously.

Who were they to each other? Susie stared back at her sister and realised she didn't have any idea.

"Ellie always used to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up," She mused, watching on as the child across the yard was hurried inside by its mother, casting them a sympathetic glance as she went.

"She asked everyone that."

"Yeah. But she asked me the most, 'cause I never had an answer."

"Do you have one now?"

"... Don't think so."

The war made dreams insignificant. Nothing was about how they wanted to live anymore, everything was about what others needed them to be.

Beatrice had long discarded her hat, its presence remembered in the halo of frizz it left behind around her scalp. "What did she want to be again?"

"It was a ballerina for a while, then a painter I think. Or a writer. Might've been both."

"Don't forget when she wanted to be a scientist."

"Of course. And a pilot."

They'd begun to smile. When it had happened, she couldn't recall. But Ellie's mind had always been so far away, so filled to burst with a million dreams and ideas and fantasies that no one had any clue what she would go on to do. In the end, she did nothing. She had wished to change the world, and she had died on the floor of a textile mill.

A man in uniform came down the alleyway into the yard, hands folded politely behind his back as he approached the house. His gaze was fixed on Beatrice, as if Susie wasn't there at all.

"Car for you, ma'am."

"Thanks," She nodded, stomping her cigarette butt out on the front step. Taking a few steps away from the house, she turned, letting out a sigh as she fumbled with her purse. "Let Mum know I've gone, yeah? And Nancy."

"You're not staying for dinner?"

For a moment a look of shock flashed across her sister's face, as if appalled she'd even ask. "No. I need to be back in London by the time William gets home."

"Why? Not like you cook or anything."

Beatrice stared at her for a moment, grip on her bag tightening. "Mind your business, Susie."

Susie flicked her cigarette into the puddle at her sister's feet, the door closing on her with a slam. As she came inside, Nancy reached the bottom of the stairs, glancing out of the window behind her.

"Beatrice left?"

"Fucking bitch," She muttered, dragging one of the chairs away from the table to sit down.

"Don't say that."

"Fine. I love it when she comes up here in her fancy car to grace us with her condescending presence and remind us all that she doesn't have to be poor anymore."

Nancy gnawed at the inside of her cheek, wordlessly refilling the kettle and placing it on the stovetop. Her eyes were still red, and Susie suspected she'd gone upstairs to cry again. She'd always been the sensitive one of the bunch.

"I'm moving out," She said, the words seeming to echo back to her in the tiny kitchen.

"... Alright." Nancy nodded, something tight in her tone, as if she'd spoken through clenched teeth. "... Where will you go?"

"I was looking at Norfolk. There's some positions open down there, I could actually get promoted."

"That's a long way."

"... Yeah, Nance."

That's the fucking point.

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #bernard demarco #bernard demarco x oc #fic | better off #demarco x susie #oc: susie

[elexaria]

TW — mentions of suicidal ideation and suicide attempt

simon is out on sick leave, his mental health has gotten worse since johnny died. “can’t have you in service if you’re not 100%, riley.” price gruffly remarks as he signs simon’s papers, eyes looking up through thick eyebrows at si, who is angrily glancing away.

sick leave is torture. simon feels lost, no anchor to tether him down to earth. without work, he is nothing. without johnny, he’s ….. nothing.

he spends all day rotting away in bed, his thumb rasping against a battered old photograph of him and johnny on holiday in mallorca. johnny with a gorgeous tan, and simon all pink. no, he doesn’t get an impeccable bronze. that man BURNS.

the corners of simon’s lips twitch as he glances at johnny in the photo, admiring how handsome he truly was. he would give anything to see him again.

and then it gets hard to get anything but dying out of his head. if he dies, then maybe he can see johnny again. they can finally be together again. right?

the capt drops off a small bundle of johnny’s stuff at simon’s apartment, and then a small package is delivered in the post from mrs mactavish, johnny’s mom. various bits and bobs, some of johnny’s tshirts, his favourite cap, some sketchbooks.

his dog tags.

simon’s surprised to find them; he thought that they would be put in johnny’s urn or something. but clearly his mom thought otherwise, she must’ve known how much johnny adored simon. he would have moved heaven and earth for that mancunian.

still, suicide ghosts every waking moment of simon’s life. he glances at johnny’s dog tags besides his bed, chewing his chapped lips as he entertains the idea more. and again when he’s walking around the shops, glancing at various means of killing himself. his thumb rasps against the cold metal of johnny’s tags from within his jacket pocket as his free hand extends to read the packet of rat poison. might be a bit too painful, and apparently it stinks to the high heavens.

simon puts the box of rat poison back, continuing to walk around the shop, thumb still stroking against the dog tags as he continues to glance around the store. he can’t take painkillers, there’s a limit to two boxes per person. so, he settles on visiting the hardware store, and buys a bundle of sturdy rope. even grabs some plywood and metal brackets. “makin’ a swing for the little’un.” he mumbles to the cashier, flashing an uneasy yet somewhat believable smile to her as he fishes out some loose bank notes from his jean pockets. he’s not big on wallets.

for almost a week, simon sits on the edge of his bed staring at the bundle of rope next to a chair from his kitchen. he knows its the only way out, so why is it so terrifying? just do it, riley. do it.

he scrawls out demented ramblings on some loose leaf paper, barely readable chicken scratch to captain price, gaz and to mrs mactavish. “i’ll always be grateful for you for bringing my johnny boy into the world.” is somewhat legible in the letter written to her.

he neatly leaves the letters at the foot of his bed, taking a deep breath as he reaches into his pocket for johnny’s dog tags. for a moment, simon admires them in the dim lighting of his bedroom, watching as the thin metal clinks together. sergeant john mactavish.

as the tags slowly slip over simon’s head, the ball chain momentarily getting caught on a wry piece of scruffy blonde hair, they finally join with simon’s own tags on his chest as he stands on the kitchen chair. for a moment, his hand reaches out against his wardrobe to steady his balance. he slips the noose around his neck, heart thumping against his rib cage ferociously. do it, simon. do it.

simon’s trying his best to still his breathing, taking deep breaths as he tries to dull the nagging thoughts, against his instincts to not do this.

“tae fuck d’yae ‘hink yer daein?!”

simon falls back against his wardrobe out of shock, eyes wide with horror as he glances in the direction of that all too familar voice, that voice that immediately drowns out every single thought that was screaming at simon to kill himself.

it’s johnny.

he’s effervescent, an angelic silhouette of his mortal self. a halo of warm light, blue, ghosts around his form.

simon’s mouth is agape, eyes still wide as his body freezes. immediately, he tears the noose off of his head, damn near stumbling off the chair to get a closer look of the spectacle in front of him.

“johnny? but… you’re…”

“dead? aye, sherlock. i am.” the silhouette retorts sarcastically, flashing ghostly pearly whites in a lopsided grin, one that’s terrifying just like johnny’s signature grin. simon backs against the wardrobe, his breathing uneven and scant as he begins to panic. this isn’t normal, this isn’t right.

the mass of energy and light shaped like johnny notices this panic in simon, and seems to frown. it slowly moves towards him, a hand reaching out to touch simon’s shoulder. it’s hauntingly cold, and it makes simon recoil with horror. the spectre frowns even more, retracting its hand.

this can’t be johnny.

because johnny’s dead.

#elexaria writes #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley #soap mactavish #ghoap #ghoap au #ghoap angst

[wileys-russo]

yes possessive tooney! maybe you’ve been hanging out with Mary and Millie a lot recently and no one knows you are together and she’s jealous so she kisses you hard to show them you’re hers (even though they already suspected you were dating her bc you both had matching hickeys a few weeks ago)

req based on this tiktok: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNBeoh5Y/ headlock II e.toone

"baby do you want to get a chinese?" you heard your girlfriend call out from downstairs, loud voice carrying her ever alluring mancunian accent up to your room.

"i'm going out el i told you this morning!" you called back, huffing in annoyance as you messed up your eyeliner again, forced to wipe it off. "what do you mean? goin out where? with who?" the girl was by your side in record time with a frown.

"for sushi with mary and mils." you groaned as you once more messed your eyeliner up, turning to your girlfriend with a pout. "why wasn't i invited?" the brunette scowled, grabbing your eyeliner and pushing your legs apart as she moved to stand between them.

"you told me you and less had plans!" you defended, closing your eyes as your girlfriend gently grabbed your face, helping you to fix the wonky lines. "yeah she's coming over to watch a movie and eat junk, like we always do! i assumed you were included in that plan." ella huffed, stepping away from you.

"well i assumed you were actually going to do something when you say you have plans. not potato it out on the sofa and sit in silence for several hours!" you teased making her roll your eyes.

"and was it not you who said it's good if we do stuff together and separately so no one finds it suspicious?" you reminded, moving back into the bedroom as she followed, only alessia aware the two of you were not just roommates and were actually dating.

you'd tried to keep it from her but with how much time the blonde spent at your flat and how well she knew the two of you it was inevitable she eventually figured out there was something else going on.

"you always hang out with them! stay in with us. please?" ella pouted, sitting down on the bed and giving you the best puppy dog eyes she could manage. "mmm no." you ducked down and smiled, pecking her lips a few times before grabbing your bag off the bed and hearing her groan.

"baby!" she huffed after you, footsteps thumping down the stairs. "i'm serious you're always with them two. i miss ya!" she tried again as you only shook your head in amusement. "maybe i like their company more." you teased causing her pout to change into a frown.

"i see you every single day baby, at training, at home, at games, at-" you started to list things off on your fingers, ella rolling her eyes and grabbing for you. you grunted as she pushed you harshly into the wall behind you, pressing her lips to yours in one last desperate attempt to convince you to stay in with her.

"not gonna work. but you can continue that once i get home!" you gently pushed her away with a suggestive smile, reaching for your keys. "no. if you have to go then i'm driving ya and picking ya up." ella ordered firmly, smacking your hand away and grabbing your keys first.

deciding against arguing with the incredibly stubborn girl you allowed her to do as she wished, directing her to the restaurant and being barraged with text messages from the girls you were meeting, well that you were now late on meeting.

"bye el, i'll call you once i'm done or i'll get maz to drop me home." you sent her a smile and pecked her cheek, well aware of your team mates and friends watching on from a few metres away, millie clapping her hands impatiently for you to hurry up as you popped open your door.

however before you could step out of the car an arm snaked around your neck and you tensed up in surprise as ellas hand firmly grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a bruising kiss.

within seconds her tongue was down your throat and you were trying to pull away hearing the whistles and jeers from your friends behind you. "not yet, kiss me." ella mumbled against your lips, her grip on your jaw tightening and holding you firmly almost in a headlock as you gave in and kissed her back.

tapping her leg once air became an issue she finally let you go for a moment, hand still on your jaw as she pecked your lips a few times ad released you, your lips tingling and slightly swollen as you tried to clear the hazy fog in your mind.

"so i guess we're telling people now?" you breathed out, glancing sideways at your girlfriend who only grinned happily. "just lettin everyone know you're a taken woman baby." ella smiled as you sighed, unable to be mad at her as you rolled your eyes and allowed her to steal one last kiss before you left her behind.

"oi oi nice of you to finally join us mrs toone!"

#ella toone x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #ella toone #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #engwnt