#chelsea one shot

[trulyhblue]

Bf Leah being wound up after a bad game and takes control. Smut pls!!!!

BLED BLUE

leah williamson x chelsea! reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (legal + consensual), hate sex, enemies w/ benefits, rough, coarse language.

________________

Part of you wondered how long it would take Leah to take you home. There was not an ounce of blue in her body, taken only by the lifelong allegiance to North London, but the thought of you, a blue-born Chelsea girl, taking up the space under her sheets, was addictive.

Chelsea were the better team. Always was, and always will be. The Blues were better at everything. Their players were more advanced, their game plans had been executed to perfection. Arsenal were sloppy, poor, and unjust. It was embarrassing to the point where it stood out as entertaining to you. Seeing the almighty, reigning Arsenal fall on their knees and succumb to the superiority of your team was endearing, and you found yourself searching for the thrill increasingly more as the game progressed.

And the sight of the woman you hated oh so much angered by the defeated notion of the final whistle was your idea of an indescribable victory.

“What a shame, Williamson.” You snagged, clutching the fabric at your hips, looking down at her bent figure. “I thought you’d play well.”

“Ah, it is you.” She replied with just as much spite. “I thought I saw someone falling flat on their face. Makes sense now that I know it was you.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, tried to show my humility… y’know, after scoring two goals tonight I thought it was only necessary.”

Leah scoffed, straightening her posture to display her authoritative height over you. “Both off deflections… sounds brilliant.”

“Player of the match worthy.” You bit back, stepping forward, pressing your chest against hers, suppressing the heat in your face. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure to credit your own goal in the interview.”

“Always have an excuse to talk about me. Can't stop, can you?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I don't think of you.” Leah shook her head, grabbing the hem of your shorts and fiddling with them persistently. “But if I did, I’d be sure to let you know.”

“If only I cared enough to hear it.” You tutted, not really caring about the openness of your situation. The stadium was still quite full, with both of your teammates lingering on the field. Fans were banking the barricade, no doubt looking for the two of you.

“I could tell you now if you’d like.”

“Aw, are you thinking of me now, Williamson?”

You felt Leah’s hand move to the inside of your thigh, pressing a tight pinch to gain any type of reaction from you. Biting your lip, you hoped that the post-game redness covered your blush.

“I bet you love the thought of people watching this, don't you?” She asked, glaring at you with such hatred that her words felt bittersweet. “Always so desperate for attention that you’d do it in front of everyone. Fucking needy.”

“You’re the one touching me.” In anger, you snapped. You didn't like the way Leah seemed so confident, so right in what she was saying. You wanted to be right. You were the one who won it for your team. You were better than her. She needed to realise that.

The only separation between the two of you was by your arms crossed over your chest. Leah was drawing furious patterns along your thigh, pressed up against you with her face above you, your height earning her to look down.

“Pull away then.” She uttered, now pulling you into a hug. You knew this would send fans into a spiral. Everybody knew about your rivalry with Leah. It was evident in the tackles, the cards, the teams, the games, the interactions. This was unclaimed territory. You had both teased each other after the games. There was always fire and spite, anger and resentment, but never contact. She told you to pull away, and by the tension that lingered, if you did she would let you have there was something else there. You felt it between your legs, running down your spine, making your core yearn.

It was in the way she kept her hand in between your thighs, deepening her fingers just below where you needed her most. She held you tight, closing any physical gap, forcing your arms to circle her waist as she wrapped her spare arm around the name on the back of your shoulders. You don't know why, but you held her back just as tight, breathing heavily when she started moving her fingers upwards.

“So tense.” She spat, rubbing your shoulder.

You shook her arm off, keeping the contact but still resistant. “I pulled it at training, of course it is.”

“Wasn't talking about your shoulder, baby.” She chuckled, her voice sending goosebumps down your neck. “In those thighs. Clenching them so hard and I'm hardly touching ‘em.”

That was when you knew your cheeks were burning.

There was a hint of humiliation in your tone, but your anger was still prevalent. “I didn't even notice your hand.”

“Yeah, alright.” Williamson grinned, pulling away. You felt the cold air nip your cheeks at the sudden loss of contact. Her fingers were no longer soothing the ache in between your legs. “Alright, baby, no, all that flushed cheeks from the big game, hm? Breathing so heavily cause you scored two goals, is that you’re so wet for me?”

“I’m not— you're so—”

Leah stepped away again, and you were too stupid to step forward in response. “God, is that what you're gonna sound like in the interview? You a mess, Baby, really. All flustered and red.”

“I'm not red.” You snapped. “And stop calling me baby. You're only four years older than me.”

Leah could see straight through you. “But you love that though.” She saw straight past your visible persona. “Why don't you show me how mature you are then? Can't call you baby if you prove that you're not.” She could tell by your flustered state, your wide eyes and your tainted disposition that you were struggling to handle the conversation.

“I don't need to prove anything to you. I just won the match. That's enough to prove that I'm better anyway.”

“But you needed help to get there, didn't you?” She retorted. “It’s not your name on the score sheet, it's mine. Look,” she pointed up to the screen, almost condescendingly, above the stands, where WILLIAMSON (OG) was printed boldly in white below the score. “All that hard work and I still get the mention.”

There was a fight for dominance, but the fight was so clearly won when you audibly gulped, unable to come up with just enough answer to compel yourself into a deeper state of anger. If anything, you were willing to resort to forbidding, but you were stubborn and bled blue.

“You’re just mad that you lost and we won. Chelsea was always better anyway, and you were just too slow… bet that's always the case.”

Leah’s jaw clicked, her lips settling into a thin line.

“In what case?” She muttered distinctly.

“You know what case.” You failed to notice the challenge, finding yourself in a superior position of confidence to realise the hole you were digging for yourself. “Slow and boring… on and off the pitch. You definitely get around, but you never seem to see one person twice. Maybe that's because they don't want to see you.”

Leah grabbed your wrist, yanking you off the field. It was a tradition that you would see the fans after every game, so you tugged back in retaliation.

She pivoted to face you, glaring at you with so much affliction that you yearned for more.

“You seem really interested in how I ‘get around’. Sounds like you wish it was you.”

No matter how hard your body was willing to succumb to her words, you stood firm by scoffing, rolling your eyes at her cockiness. “If only I was so desperate.”

“I’ll show you just how desperate I can get you.” The captain spat, holding your forearm now, easily leading you further down the tunnel where fans or players could no longer find you. “Didn't even properly touch you before and you were a needy mess.”

“You’re always so fucking sure of yourself, aren't you, Williamson?” You snapped back, hearing the clad of your boots fail to drown out your ungrateful tone. You did not care for what Leah was so keen to impress you with. Never had anyone told you that Leah did not impress. She was determined to make sure everyone was supplied with the right things for their needs. She valued giving pleasure over receiving. But if there was one thing she hated, it was brats like you.

You stood outside the Chelsea changing rooms, your kit still adorned on your figure.

“Go get your shit.” She snarled, letting go of your arm and jabbing you forward.

You scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks. “And what? You're gonna wait for me and drop me home? I have a license, Williamson, I'm not your fucking—”

You couldn't finish your rant, yelping when Leah cut you off, grabbing the collar of your shirt and mashing her lips against yours. One of her legs found its way between yours, her knee pushing against your core. A moan fell from your lips, and the woman wasted no time in slipping her tongue in, caging your figure between you and the wall.

She waited until you were kissing her back before grabbing your neck. She instantly moved down to litter harsh kisses down the nape of your neck, using her hands to move underneath your shirt, massaging your breasts. You were a mess beneath her, breathing heavily when the pressure on your clit intensified when her knee started rubbing patterns up and down.

“Swear at me again and see how it turns out for you.” She muttered in your ear, relishing the whines that fell from your lips as her knee continued its work. “If I tell you to grab your bag, that's what you do, yeah? You understand, Chelsea?”

The nickname left you shrinking, her words making your core glisten. You weren't completely sure whether the Arsenal girl was planning on taking you home. You didn't understand why you were all of a sudden pretty much moaning at the friction of her knee.

But you weren't fucking complaining.

“My teammates are in there.”

Leah let out a laugh. “You had no problem letting me touch you in a filled Stanford Bridge, Babygirl. I think it’d be healthy if your teammates realised who fucks their Stargirl after a home game.”

“You haven't fucked me, yet.” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the thought of the England captain fucking you sending you into a spiral.

“Go get your bag and then I can use that pretty mouth for something other than moaning my last name… not that I mind when you do that.”

You wasted no time in doing as you were told, forever thankful that all of your teammates were either still interacting with fans or showering. You grabbed all of your stuff and quickly followed Leah over to the away changing rooms.

She let you walk through, since none of the girls were present, grabbing your belongings and chucking them inside her cubby. You felt her figure cage you back into the nearest wall, her hands how playing with the hem of your shirt, inching it further up your waist until it was completely disregarded, and you were left in your sports bra and shorts.

“Why so quiet?” Leah asked, kissing down the column of your neck, fondling your breasts. You sighed at the growing ache in your core, throwing your head back when Leah’s knee came back into contact with your clit.

“Some— someone’s going to walk in.”

Leah snorted. “Like you would mind.”

You huffed, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her head further down your body. Leah’s knee stopped in return, leaving you writhing at the loss of pressure.

“Use your words or you can get off yourself.”

“Like you could get me off.” You retorted.

“I don't make brats cum.” She spat, moving back up to tower over you. “I edge them until they’re desperate and getting themself off my thigh. I treat them like brats, and maybe you need to work a little fucking harder for what you want.”

“You were just teasing me!”

“You're just desperate.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Leah.” There it was. Music to her ears.

“What?”

You whined, using your hips to drag yourself along her knee.

“What was that, Baby? Couldn't hear you under all those whines.”

“Leah, c’mon.” You stated potently, getting more impatient by the minute. “I'm not begging.”

The number six shrugged, looking down at you with wide, innocent eyes like she had no clue what you were going on about. Like she didn't even realise that you were humping her leg longing for some relief.

“Begging for what?” She moved her finger painstakingly down your chest, tracing your abs ever so slowly.

“For you.”

“For me?” She questioned, feigning confusion. Her hand dipped into the waistband of your shorts, circling your clit over your underwear. “Answer me, Darling. What do you want me to do? I'm touching you.”

“Touch me more.”

Leah tutted, moving her hand away. You groaned, throwing your head back when no pleasure was offered. “I'm afraid that's not how you ask. It might get you somewhere at Chelsea, but at Arsenal, we treat our Captains with respect. Even our star girls use their manners in the North end.”

“Touch me more, please.”

“Where, Chelsea?” Leah moved closer to you, peeling off her own shirt, removing your shorts, leaving you in your underwear and bra. “Be a good girl and tell me where.” She asked, her body lowering itself closer to the ground. You watched her kneel before you, hands gripping your waist, kneading your hips, lips biting your inner thigh.

“My clit, Lee, please. I need you to touch me there.”

“Such a good girl for your Captain, aren't you?” Leah ran her tongue along your folds, your underwear pooled at your feet. Your legs were swung over her shoulders, your hands buried in her hair, pulling taunt to her ponytail and the hairs that had fallen out during the game. Your moans were still muffled by the bite in your lips, the nerves of someone hearing your desperation for your enemy is still evident in the way you kept your mouth shut.

It was when Leah’s tongue latched onto your clit, sucking harshly on the swollen bud that your noises fell so adamantly from your reddened lips. You felt Leah’s cocky smile, her chuckles sending vibrations of pleasure through your body.

“Sound so pretty, Baby.”

“Leah— fuck, Lee. I'm gonna—”

“You’re going to hold it. Taste so good, you can wait.”

The coil in your stomach was forming long before Leah had even started, and the more Leah attacked your bud, the more your orgasm led to burst. Your moans had doubled in volume when one of her hands came up to play with your nipple, pinching it and playing with the nub every time her tongue licked up your folds. Her other hand worked its way through your pussy, spreading your slick all over your thighs, letting it run down your shaking legs and make your skin glisten with the glossy arousal.

“Want Stanford to hear you,” Leah spoke from below you. You whined at the thought. You were in a state of pure bliss that all cautionary thoughts of interruption were so far gone. All you could think about was Leah’s face between your legs.

“Feels so good, Lee. Want to cum so bad for you.”

“You can hold it, baby.”

“Mh, Lee, please.”

Leah moaned at your whines, nuzzling her nose up against your clit, pinching your nipple hard, reeling at the moan you let out in response. She saw the way your hole clenched around nothing, smirking at the way you rolled your hips across her face, working your pussy into her mouth so easily. She felt powerful knowing she had you at her disposal. You were stunning always, but there was something about you now that set Leah off. It made her angry knowing that you weren't hers to fuck at her discretion. It made her protective over you in ways she had never felt before. You were Chelsea’s protege — everyone worried when going up against you.

“Leah.”

It wasn't like something had changed, but Leah had realised that her hate was actually protection and adoration. She wanted you for herself. She wanted to steer you away from anyone that would hurt you. She hated Chelsea, she despised the West side more than anything, and it wasn't the sex that made her realise this.

“Leah.”

It was her name coming from your lips.

“Cum for me, Baby.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were barreling over the edge, your legs relying entirely on the strength of Leah’s upper body to keep you balanced. Your moans exemplified the stimulation of your orgasm riding out, and Leah’s endeavours to lick the result of it up as it poured into her mouth and onto your thighs.

The woman made sure you had somewhat caught your breath before she moved, having a moment to catch her own breath and comprehend what just happened. When she knew you were able to stand independently, she moved over to her cubby, grabbing the baby wipes she always had handy, moving back down to her knees to clean the mess across your legs as you covered your chest back with your jersey, and later your shorts.

Leah moved to do the same, except she watched as you fumbled with what to do. She gave you a pointed look as if to question your thinking, and you simply sighed and waddled over to her, slight humiliation at your wobbly legs painting your cheeks as you grabbed your bag.

“You all good, Baby?” She asked, her voice no longer authoritative and rather empathetic.

“Yeah, thanks.” You nodded. “Erm… sorry for being… rude… actually I'm not sorry but I am.”

“Yeah, same,” Leah replied a cheeky grin settled on her complexion. “I think we can settle for friendly rivalry from now on.”

“If that's what you call this, then sure.” You added, laughing along with what to make of the situation, feeling more out of place than ever in the middle of the Arsenal room. “I better go.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Lee, I've got my license—”

“It wasn't a question, Chelsea.”

You stood there defeated, knowing internally that you had no way home after Millie had driven you to the stadium and would have left by now anyway. Leah must’ve known that by the way she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her chest.

“Besides, wouldn't want that Player of The Match Trophy getting forgotten now, would we?”

_________________

A/N — bad ending but oh well… HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

#leah williamson x you #leah williamson smut #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #lionesses x reader #lionesses #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #chelsea #chelsea women #arsenal #woso #caitlin foord #beth mead #jessie fleming #guro reiten #sam kerr #millie bright #erin cuthbert #smut #woso request #woso fic #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso smut #chelsea wfc #womens super league

[pers1st]

JUST A SPARK... PROLOGUE - leah williamson

it's never quite as it seems

warnings: death, grief, this is pretty angst tbh

master list / next chapter

It rained again. Ever since you had moved to England, the weather seemed to taunt you for leaving the country you actually considered to be your home. Your nonna, your mamma, and even your Dad stayed behind in Italy, and just like that, every dream of what England should’ve been was crushed between your tight fists. It rained. Every single day that you had lived in England, it rained. Today was the tiniest bit better than what yesterday’s clouds had provided. Instead of furious down-pouring that almost silenced your every thought and made the pitches impossible to train on, the water was splashing from the sky rhythmically, staining your windows as it peacefully dropped.

You were sitting on your couch, a mug of tea in your hand that you found oddly comically typically English, watching as the weather let you down once again. You missed Italy then, more than you usually did. Dreams of your summers spent in Tuscany, sitting on the terrace with your friends, sipping on a pearly white wine as the birds breezed past you cascaded in your mind as you stared out of the large, rain-stained window of your living room. Reaching for your phone, you huffed, realizing the closest you could come to being back home was a phone call. Although it wouldn’t be enough, it would certainly have to do.

The first sign that something was wrong was the way the ringing of your phone wouldn’t stop for far too long. There was very little time difference from England to Italy, and if it was an hour earlier, you would have believed your parents would’ve laid down for their daily nap, but it was almost six in the evening and there was no way they weren’t awake right now. When the call was finally picked up, the second sign hit you like a truck. Instead of your mamma’s sweet voice, you could hear a total mess unfolding, a sob ringing through the line, a dish being thrown to the floor.

“Mamma? Mamma, cosa non va?” (What’s wrong?), you asked, panic striking your tone as you sat up, gently disposing the mug of tea to the very edge 0f your couch table. 

“Mamma?”, you repeated as any clue of what was going on was still withheld from you.

“Morto. É morto” (Dead. He’s dead), your mother cried, and at once, the oddly comically typically empty English mug fell to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

The flight back to Italy was painfully silent. You didn’t allow yourself to listen to music, too scared to listen to anything just in case you forgot your father’s voice. Your train of thoughts was absolute nonsense, to put it into harsher words, but it didn’t matter to you.

After speaking to both Emma Hayes and other officials of the club, most of whom you had never met, you had voiced the will of your mother to be buried in Italy rather than in London, where he had been born, and had taken the next flight out to your home country, ignoring the protests of men who had never truly known your father, claiming they wanted to come with you. You knew, however, that your father wished for more. The legacy he held at Chelsea wasn’t unknown, but you knew that none of the men in suits had ever mattered to him, and that none of them would have known him truly. It was quite ironic- the fact that you were defaming the very club that had raised not only you but your father as well, and that he had only left behind once you had been old enough to live on your own, and watched as your family moved back into the country you so desperately longed for.

Being back, now, felt like a slap to the face. Your mamma was still inconsolable, although your nonna tried her best to pick the broken pieces from the floor and hold them together just to take another weight off your shoulders. No twenty-three year old should watch as their father was buried, but life was not fair and you had no way to deal with it other than to just deal with it. Silent tears crept down your cheeks as you listened to Father Marcus tell anecdotes of your father’s life, and of his career, and you wondered whether he would’ve liked to be buried nearer to his own home. Italy had always been your mamma’s, but after witnessing the agonizing love between your parents for a time that felt far too short now, you figured that he would want to be wherever she was. The cemetery was only a five-minute walk from your parents’ casa, but it was a three hour flight from your flat. 

Still, the walk felt painfully long as you followed most of your parents’ friends to your childhood home, and rain began to softly splatter from the sky as you trotted among the crowd. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t fight it, rather grateful that anyone was unable to tell whether your cheeks were wet with the rain or stained by your tears. You wondered whether this was your Dad telling you to get your act together. It certainly seemed like something he would do, and the thought put the faintest of smiles on your lips. Afraid to seem like a mad woman to the rest of the grieving crowd, you slipped past Father Marcus, away from the procession, as you fiddled your phone out of the pocket of your coat, watching as rain wet the screen.

Another smile crept up on your face at the multiple messages you had received over just the past few hours you had neglected your phone. 

Most of your Chelsea teammates were sending you their wishes, along with Emma, but what interested you most was a missed call from an unknown number. An unknown English number.

Silently, you glanced towards the front of the procession, seeing they had almost reached their destination as you found your mamma at the very front, weeping in your nonna’s arms. You should be there, right now, with her, but you simply couldn’t. 

Instead, you reached to call the number back. The other line picked up surprisingly fast.

“Hello, Y/N. I was hoping you would call me back. I hope it’s an okay time for you”, a woman on the other line spoke. Furrowing your eyebrows, you nodded, forgetting that whoever it was couldn’t see your movements.

“Oh, sí. Yes, it’s a perfect time, actually?”

“Really? Because I was informed by your club that you were… back in Italy. For…”, the woman trailed away, and you exhaled shakily.

“No, no, it’s okay. I just saw your call, so…”, you tapped your foot against the wet pavement rhythmically, eager to know who you were speaking to.

“Well, it’s Sarina Wiegman here, I’m sorry. I should’ve started with that. Anyways, I was wondering whether you would be interested to join the Lionesses for the Arnold Clark Cup, this year. I know of  your circumstances right now, so I don’t need an answer right away.”

You let out a shaky exhale at her words. You had always thought about playing for England, as you had joined both their youth teams as well as Italy’s, while you had still played in the country. They had offered you a place in their senior team far earlier than England had, and although you couldn’t have been sure whether England would ever offer, you had always held out for something. For what, you didn’t know. Although now, it suddenly seemed to make sense. 

Your father had played for England, had even captained his country for a short while, and although you had always dreamed of playing for Italy when you were younger, infatuated with their men’s team’s success, much to your father’s dismay, you had not agreed yet. The reason only came to you now. And suddenly, it was so painfully clear.

“Yes, yes. I would really like that”, you smiled to yourself, glancing up at the cloudy sky to clear your teary vision. It didn’t help in the slightest.

“Great! The call-up will be published tomorrow, we’ll send you all the details in an email. I look forward to seeing you in camp!”, your manager cheered, and although it tasted bitter-sweetly in your mouth, you voiced your excitement as well before hanging up the call. 

You would play for your father’s country, if all went to plan. You would finally step into his footsteps. You would continue his legacy, whether you really wanted to or not.

#woso community #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #leah williamson oneshot #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal #chelsea women #chelsea fc #chelsea wfc

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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[kennedyawfc]

forever together || J.Fleming21

chelseafcw just posted

liked by mbrighty04,samanthakerr20,yn/ln and 54,163 others

Chelsea Football Club can today confirm Jessie Fleming has completed a permanent transfer to Portland Thorns.✍️

Thank you for everything, @_JessFlem. Once a blue,always a blue.💙

zeciramusovic 🥺🫶🏻

yn/ln ❤️

fan3209 i wonder if yn will leave with her or stay with arsenal

| fan789 she might end up leaving with her, they’ve said a couple times how they both want to be closer to their families again?

arsenalwfc just posted

liked by bethmead_,alessia,katie_mccabe11,yn/ln and 56,0123 others

Arsenal Football Club can confirm yn/ln has completed a permanent transfer to Portland Thorns.

everyone at arsenal would like to thank and wish yn/ln the best of luck on her new journey.

once a gunner,always a gunner❤️.

yn/ln love you guys❤️thank you for everything. much love❤️❤️❤️gunner always

bethmead_ 🥺🥺gonna miss you,best of luck ynn❤️

| yn/ln ❤️love you lots beffy

leahwilliamsonn 🥺❤️

liked by yn/ln

_jessflem 🩶

liked by yn/ln

yn/ln posted on her story

_jessflem just posted

liked by samanthakerr20,_bethmead,yn/ln,niamhcharles17 and 58,201 others

hugs for my favourite girl🫂🫂🫂

tagged yn/ln

yn/ln my love always🥰🥰

niamhcharles17 imy guys come back now😣

samanthakerr20 you don’t give me hugs🥺

liked by yn/ln

thornsfc just posted

liked by yn/ln,_jessflem,janinebeckie4 and 45,127 others

portland called,jessie and yn answered🌹

yn/ln ❤️❤️

(too lazy to do others😭)

yn/ln just posted

liked by _jessflem,bethmead_,leahwilliamsonn,niamhcharles17,and 55,032 others

nine years and forever together to go❤️‍🩹my best friend,favourite girl and girlfriend all in one. i love you more and more everyday my love forever <3

tagged _jessflem

_jessflem forever together always❤️i love you so so much

liked by yn/ln

bethmead_ when’s the ring coming😉

| niamhcharles17 yeah jflem when?

| samanthakerr20 💍jflem??

| yn/ln you lot are the worst.

_jessflem just posted

liked by yn/ln,leahwilliamsonn,janinebeckie4,pharder10 and 59,228 others

tagged yn/ln

9 years together❤️and she said yes💍here’s to forever together beautiful girl🫂i love you more than words can describe <3

yn/ln i cannot wait to marry you🥺🫶🏻❤️forever together always

bethmead_ finally!! congrats to you both💗

niamhcharles17 so happy for you guys🥰i dips bridesmaid 🤝

a/n not the biggest fan of this but love jflem so yeh🌹

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #chelsea fc #chelsea women #portland thorns #jflem #woso blurbs #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #wsl #awfc x reader #nwsl #woso couples

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which life does not go on after Mason breaks your heart over and over again. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 2 ! Mason made his first goal for United and I'm emotional 💞 I'll do part 3 later

taglist: @dreamingofautopia @xjval @sunflower-tia @sad-fridge2323 @girlidekanymore @borbolwra3

Chelsea added to their story.

Your phone notified you, immediately dampening your mood. Everything was related to him.

It’s been two months since Mason shattered your heart after that nightmare of a night. The funny thing is that a part of you didn’t hate him, a part of you that still loved him existed. 

You had waited for him to text you to ask how you were and if you were free to hang out. And by the time you realized that he wasn’t going to, it was too late… too awkward for you to ask as well. So, both of you had resorted to ignorance and hostility. 

Life eventually went on, even though you had cut one of the most important people out of your life. And you’d see yourself by night, in your dreams. All these faces in the crowded city of London, and for some reason, you’d still try to find his. Mason was no longer yours.

Although he never was.

The first time Mason saw you after that night was a couple of months later, at a family lunch. The two families —Mounts and yours—had united in your family's garden for a little lunch to catch up on life. You had turned twenty and Lyon was old news. 

But Mason’s eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sit between his sister and your brother just before him. Sipping from a glass of wine that you most likely didn’t like, he glanced at you.

Your brother had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, his attention was on the pretty blonde talking to your nanny.

Mason had spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Although he just couldn’t. 

—Dear, will you serve me a little piece of that cake? —Your mother had her plate in her hand, waiting for Mason to react. It took him about five seconds to come out of his trance and then he served her what she had ordered.

He was too busy thinking about you.

—So, Mason… when is your next match? Your dad told me you were playing for England. —Your mom tried to lighten up the mood since you were not bickering with Mason as you were on other occasions. 

Mason smiled up while you looked at him and caught a glimpse of his beautiful Cheshire cat smile.

—I’m playing next week, on Sunday… —He looked around at everyone and proceeded. —You are all invited, of course. 

After an hour or two, everyone stood up, scattering around the decorated garden. Mason grabbed his phone from the table and headed to the kitchen in search of a beer.

In the background, the voices of the two families blurred together as you finished washing your plate. Both Mount sisters were busy playing card games with their mother and your brother was having a talk about politics, which you were not at all interested in. You had no one to talk to.

Suddenly, you feel someone behind you trying to open the refrigerator. That bloody refrigerator, which, being so old, could not be opened correctly. You turned around, not expecting to see Mason looking at you.

You headed to the refrigerator to open it, so Mason moved from where he was previously standing, leaning on the kitchen counter. You gave the refrigerator a little kick and it opened.

—Thanks… —He said grabbing the beer, the tension being palpable in the air. After a long pause, you continued:

—How are you? —you asked, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the British landscape.

—I’m alright.

Scoring some scarce points with Chelsea has become almost impossible under a year ago now, and you really felt sorry for him, knowing everything he and his team put in.

—How are you holding up? —you stood next to him, nudging his shoulder with yours, before looking down at the floor. You felt the look of pity that Mason was giving you, but you tried to ignore it.

—Thank you, really. 

—Mase...

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn’t pressure him to answer your question, instead, you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the garden in silence.

—It will be alright, you know. —He hummed, knowing you were still hurt because of what he had said.

—I know. —You whispered back. —And don't worry much about scoring, in the least expected moments your shot is the one that serves the most.

He hated how much you believed him because at that moment he felt like the six-year-old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself, who thought everything was possible. 

Mason looked down at you, the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, and threw his head back in a laugh. 

—I don't think I’m ever getting rid of you.

Now it was your turn to laugh. After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place. He did a face.

—I know, I know. —You said with a sad look on your face.

—You know I’m too old for you, right? —Mason whispered as he leaned his forehead on yours.

—I’m in it for the long game, Mount.

It felt like your heart was twisting and stuttering, sometimes beating too quickly that you were afraid it was going to push you over the edge. You wanted him to notice, to do something to fix it. 

Time went on flying, the last few days being hectic. It was already Sunday and today Mason was playing with England and obviously, you were more than proud. He had invited your brother —his best friend—, you and your family to watch him from the special box for family and friends.

The cold air hits your face as soon as you enter the box with your family. Excited, you see Debbie and Tony, and their children already seated. You were so nervous that your hands were even sweating.

You sit next to Stacey, Mason's older sister. She gives you a smile.

—Nervous about the game? —she asks.

—A bit, yes... —you say as you settle down, your eyes scanning the pitch, looking for him. For Mason. 

—This should be an easy game, England has a better team.

—You never know. —you reply. You were almost freezing, you only had the basic England t-shirt on.

Stacey noticed that you were shivering from the cold and decided to take off the sweatshirt she had tied around her shoulders. She put it on your lap and smiled.

—Put it on, otherwise, you'll freeze to death here. —she said, laughing.

—I'm... —You said about to deny it. For a second, you thought about the cold that you would catch without the sweatshirt, so you decided to take it. —Oh, never mind.

The sweatshirt was white and had his number and surname printed on the front, in a blue font. This made you remember the uncountable times when you stole Mason's sweatshirts just to have his number on you.

Stacey, without you seeing, grabbed her phone and texted his brother: "Just wanted to say that she's here and she's got your name on her sweatshirt. Good luck! We're all rooting for you. And don't worry, she'll wait for you."

All of a sudden, Summer, Mason's niece, came up to you asking if she could sit in your lap to have a better look at the pitch. It was no secret that Summer enjoyed seeing you, as she had grown up seeing your brother and you in the Mount household.

—Look over there, Summer! There is your uncle. —said Stacey, and both Summer and you looked over to where the players were entering the enormous pitch. There he was, beautiful as always.

The whistle was blown and the match started. Everyone was immersed in the excitement of the box, watching the match carefully. The atmosphere was electric, and each second increased the tension.

—Yes! —You screamed when Mason's friend, Declan, scored the opening goal, feeling your heart beat against your chest rapidly. Summer looked up at you with wide eyes, before she started giggling. You smiled and leaned down to where she was and kissed her on the forehead.

The second half started and your eyes only followed Mason running up and down the pitch. Only one goal was scored in the whole 45 minutes of the first half, that being Declan's goal.

Abruptly, Stones stole the ball from a player on the opposing team. He ran alone, jumped over some defenders and, feinting, the ball passed to Henderson on the right side. He analyzed the position of the players spread around the pitch before passing it to Foden, who was almost close to the goal.

He passed it to Mason and he, avoiding the players, aimed and kicked with all his strength.

The world went silent for a moment. He had scored.

After realizing that he had scored a goal, Mason ran to the end of the field, right where you were. The atmosphere was pure shouting, people jumping and celebrating but you only had eyes for Mason.

He looked towards the box looking for those who truly love him and just at that precise moment, you connected glances. With a shaky breath, you stood up from your seat and waved to him, also trying to hold Summer up with your other arm.

Mason's heart melted when he saw that scene and many things went through his head: he couldn't believe he had scored a goal after so long and he also couldn't believe how beautiful you looked with his niece in your arms.

In celebration, he pointed to both of you and you could only sigh in love. The game ended with a great performance from Mason and a win for England.

As soon as he stepped into the box, he scanned the room for you, but Summer caught him off guard.

—Uncle Mase! —she ran toward him and he picked her up, planting a kiss on her cheek while she wrapped her small arms around his neck.

—My favourite person! —His eyes fell on you and he didn't know if it was his imagination or the fact that he hadn't seen you in days, but you looked prettier than usual.

You were standing at the back, watching Mason greet his family. You felt shy and awkward, which made you hate the feeling even more. All you wanted was love from him and for that, you haven't slept well in the days after the family lunch with the Mount's.

—I played well, all thanks to you. —He kissed her head and his niece giggled. The little girl ran toward her mother and then closed the door, leaving you and Mason all alone. Your family had congratulated Mason before and told you they were waiting outside.

—How have you been? —His voice was gentle like he was afraid to say something.

—Mason! —you laughed. —You just scored a tremendous goal for England and you ask me how am I? Sometimes I don't understand you.

—Alright, alright. You have a point! —he laughed, definitely not missing those nervous butterflies in his stomach. He felt like a little boy.

His gaze searched yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He scratched the back of his neck and then looked at your sweatshirt with his surname and number.

His number looked very good on you, he thought.

He gazed at your lips and he came dangerously close to you. You stepped back, hitting the table. Mason was looking straight into your eyes when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and sat you on the table. You let out a little squeal. The air was thick with tension, and all you craved was to pull him close and kiss him passionately.

—We-we should go. —you said, clearing your throat. —Your family is waiting.

Quickly, Mason grabbed your wrist.

—Mase... You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. His breath hitches.

—I feel things… —your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him say that.

Pushing his hand down, you look back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again.

What he didn't know is that he's everything you were imagining those long nights… he had never kissed you, not even touched you.

—It’s okay if you want to stop- —he said, while you slid your hands under his t-shirt. Running up and down your hands through his lower torso, you felt his abs contract.

—Mount, I'm certain that I'm okay. —you said, giggling. He smirked. Your core grows tighter with his expressions, now holding onto his broad shoulders.

Unexpectedly, you both heard from behind the closed door someone shout: —Mate, are you there? The party starts at ten, hurry!

Fuck. That was your brother.

Mason had completely forgotten about the party in honour of their win. How the fuck was he getting out of that room with a hard-on? He had to calm himself.

You, on the other side, felt your heart falls into pieces. You thought about how long you had waited for this exact moment, every time you gave your endless hope all you ended up doing was bleeding. And this time, not only he was about to leave you alone but he was going to leave you turned on.

—I'm-I'm sorry... —he said, exiting quickly from the room.

After that match, you only heard from Mason through your brother. He had told you that after the match, at the party, Mason had rejected every girl who appeared to flirt with him.

Apparently, you've had an effect on him.

Mason hated how his heartbeat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his parents' house, with a blue shirt that had printed out the number 19 on the back, hugging your figure. 

You had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, you had for sure gone through puberty. He didn’t like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

—So, we're leaving after lunch. Do you want to meet at the stadium or at home?

You took a minute to understand. —What?

—The game, remember? We're having lunch here and then driving up to watch the game. —Said your brother, while getting on the boat. About three weeks had passed since you almost kissed Mason and now you were about to hop on the Mount's boat in Portsmouth.

You had completely forgotten about the game. During your conversations with your brother, you could sense that Mason hadn't mentioned anything about that night which was, in a way, kind of relieving.

Just like you, Mason had also forgotten that your family was coming over. But when his sister sent him a text saying that your family would join him before his game, he was flabbergasted.

You both hadn't spoken since the night of the win, but you both were thinking about that interaction since then. To forget that incident, he had spoken to one of his best friends, Ben, in search of a solution.

—Mate, what you need is a good fling. Maybe you should invite someone next time you're going on a family boat day —said Ben, laughing because of what Mason was asking him.

You got on Mason's boat, feeling heavy-hearted once again. After an hour, you were seated on the floor, helping Stacey with a puzzle, after your mom expelled you from the kitchen when trying to help her. Meanwhile, Mason and his mother sat down on the couch.

—She has grown into a beautiful woman, don't you think? —His mom said teasingly, already knowing that you were not the only one fallen for someone.

—Yes, she has. —He looked at you, seeing you laugh at something his sister had said. —Mom... I think I fucked up.

—If you had fucked up, she wouldn't be here.

—No mom, I really- —Mason got interrupted by the entrance of a tall, dark-eye, skinny blond, almost gotten out from a runway. She turned toward Mason and presented herself as Daphne, a friend. Debbie now understood why her son said he had fucked up really bad.

Your brother, seeing Daphne —the supposed fling of Mason— talking with him, turned to you.

—Forget your stuff, let’s just get off this boat. Don’t turn around okay? —his hands gripping strongly your shoulders. He knew how much you liked his best friend.

You laughed and followed your brother down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

—Since when have I ever listened to you? Dear God, I- — Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Mason and his mother, and the presence of a girl that looked like an actual model.

She was leaning on him and he was laughing at whatever she had to say, while Debbie looked at you with pity. You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out, for a hundred times.

—You knew?

Your brother sighed before running his hands through his hair: —She's only a side thing, a one-time fling. I mean she’s not you, but he decided to find someone before Christmas. —He shrugged his shoulders and you felt the rage creeping up your body.

—What about me? When will I be happy? —you said, crying.

That sentence broke your brother's heart.

19 years to be exact, that's the time you've been waiting for him.

#mason mount #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount fan fic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount angst #mason mount scenarios #mason mount story #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount drabble #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer imagines #footballer imagine #footballer fan fiction #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #football #football masterlist #chelsea fc #premier league #manchester united #manchester utd

[kamotecue]

an untold story ∞ j. fleming

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

summary: you were her untold story, a story that she’d never tell. but when a sea of chelsea players ended up finding an old camcorder on her coffee table, they’d never expected what would happen. swedish-canadian!reader

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a group of three took a seat on the couch, waiting for their freckled teammate who had gotten stuck in london traffic. it was supposed to be bonding time between the group of four, but it just so happens that the owner of the apartment got stuck in traffic buying ingredients for their get-together.

“a camcorder?” niamh said, as she carefully grabbed the camcorder she saw on the table. penille looked at the british woman who just gave her a lopsided grin.

magda just sighed, it was like there were two children that she had to take care of. niamh opened it, turning it on to see that it was working and it was in a good shape.

of course, it was—it held memories of her first love, and she wishes that they would be their last. niamh looked at the videos that were in the sd card to see jessie with an unfamiliar girl?

“it’s baby canada.” niamh said, chuckling at how young jessie looked. despite the canadian being in her mid twenties, she still had the baby face.

“wait, is this y/n?” niamh said, as she had gotten a closer look at the video. madga raised her eyebrows at the mention of her swedish teammate.

“what do you mean, niamh?” magda gave the british woman a look, as niamh passed her the camcorder. magda’s eyes widened as she realized it really was y/n.

“y/n l/n?” penille asked, as she played against the young defender. not only that but the love of her life was quite protective of her.

“they knew each other?” niamh shrugged, but stood up in realization.

“they were teammates in the youth levels, before she represented the swedish team.” niamh commented, forgetting the small piece of information.

magda hummed, but she had accidentally press the start button. she tried to exit the video, but she couldn’t.

the video started, a younger looking y/n was seen. a look of amusement was shown on her face.

“freckles, why are you behind the camera.” a 12 year old looking y/n asked, jessie’s chuckle was heard.

“i’m usually the one in front of the camera, n/n. let me be the videographer once.” y/n had a lopsided grin.

“alright, what are your questions for me, älskling?” magda raised her eyes at the swedish endearment, but felt her heart swoon.

“what would you like to be in 5 years?” jessie showed a peace sign in front of the view, as y/n playfully shoved her finger away.

“hopefully on the senior team, playing alongside you.” niamh chuckled at your answer, you weren’t however. but you did play together on the youth levels. penille gushed at how cute the young defender was, while magda had a soft smile.

“if you weren’t a footballer, what sport would you play?” y/n looked deep in thought, as she hummed.

“track and field, or perhaps badminton?” younger jessie chuckled, as y/n gave her a soft glare.

“i want you in the video with me, please?” y/n gave her a pout, as jessie sighed before taking a seat right near y/n. magda watched as jessie’s right hand became intertwined with y/n’s left hand.

“favorite footballer?” y/n looked at jessie with a smile, as she poked the young midfielder’s nose.

“you, freckles.” y/n said, as the video came to an end.

“so they’re childhood friends.” penille said, as niamh had her eyebrows furrowed.

“how come we don’t know this?” she asked, as magda gave her a soft shrug.

“there’s another one.” niamh said, playing it. it was jessie and y/n in their teenage years, more specifically 16-17.

“hi, i’m jessie and i’m with-“ the intro started as jessie gave y/n a soft look.

“y/n l/n.” y/n said, as jessie playfully pushed y/n who chuckled at her expression.

“more specifically, my girlfriend.” the trios eyes widened at the revelation. niamh had her hand over her mouth, as magda quirked her eyebrows up, and penille just gasped.

“yes, i’m jessie’s girlfriend.” y/n had grabbed jessie’s free hand, and placed a gentle yet loving kiss on the dorsal side (back of her hand).

“hopefully my last.” jessie said, as y/n grinned at her words.

“they dated?” niamh said, as magda gave her a look. it was an invasion of privacy, yet they couldn’t find themselves to stop the video.

“freckles?” y/n asked, as jessie turned to look at her.

“yes, n/n?” a soft look was shown on y/n’s face.

“i love you” those three words were said soft, as niamh’s eyes widened.

“i love you, dimples.” you laughed, as your two dimples were shown. she poked your right dimple as she chuckled.

there were a lot of videos of the pair, but one had catched niamh’s eyes. it was a video of jessie alone, dated way back during her college years.

“hi, it’s me jessie. i don’t know how to feel—y/n got into a terrible collision against the opposing team. she doesn’t remember me.” the canadian midfielder had tears in her eyes, as she grabbed the nearest tissue.

she was seen wiping the tears, as she held onto a stuffed bear. it wore small clothing, more specifically a costumed made jersey. it was y/n’s national jersey, the number 17 was shown and it was in swedish colors. she represented the U-23’s rather than the youth level jessie is representing.

the video had came to an end, as they looked at each other—a soft smile but it didn’t reach their eyes. the opening of the front door was heard, as niamh scrambled to close the camcorder, gently placing it back to where she got it.

the trio acted like they were in a small conversation but it didn’t work. jessie reached the living room, as she looked at them, analyzing their actions.

she gazed at the camcorder as she rushed to it, grabbing it before heading to her room.

“you didn’t touch it, did you?” jessie asked, as niamh whistled.

“we didn’t mean to see the videos.” niamh’s soft voice said, as jessie had flared at her words. but she didn’t do anything, except sighed deeply.

“i’m not mad, i just—i miss her.” jessie said, her voice broke as magda pulled the canadian into a hug. she hid her face into the crook of the captain.

penille softy patted her back, as niamh looked at her in concerned.

“she doesn’t remember me. and i tried so hard to talk to her—but i just can’t.” jessie said, as madga placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

pt 2 incoming

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #canwnt x reader #chelsea wfc imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot

[pulisicsgirl]

caring for you - mason mount

summary: following Mason's surgery, Y/N does everything in her power to take care of him and keep him comfortable, and his parents take note

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings/tags: brief mentions of surgery and medicine, PDA in front of parents, fluff

requested: yes!! here

notes: I'm back (for now)!! I'm about to start finals week, so hopefully I'll have more time to write once I've made it back home! I received this request a while ago, and I was thinking about writing something about taking care of Mason after his procedure last week, so I figured I'd combine the two! Hope you like it!

Also I feel like this started out really strong and the end is absolute garbage, so I'm very sorry about that

Since the moment the two of you had arrived at home from the hospital, you hadn’t let Mason leave his spot in the corner of the ‘L-shaped’ couch. As soon as you walked through the door, you had (gently) pushed him down onto the soft cushion, tucking a soft blanket over his legs. It was only a few minutes before you had a bottle of water and a couple of snacks by his side in case he needed them.

The surgery had been relatively minor, all things considered. It was an outpatient procedure, scheduled for the early hours of the day. So by the time it reached the late afternoon, the doctor had discharged Mason, instructing him to take it easy for the next couple of weeks to avoid agitating the incisions before easing back into his regular training regimen. The doctor had informed you that everything had gone very well and there should be nothing to be concerned about.

So of course, you were very concerned, just a ball of anxiety, making sure that Mason didn’t lift a finger for the rest of the day.

Mason had been pretty tired once the two of you had arrived home, so you left him to nap on the couch while you tidied up the rest of the house. Mason’s parents were making the drive up from Portsmouth to spend the evening in London. Mason hadn’t been able to see them in a while and took advantage of the free days he would have following his operation to invite them to spend some time with him (and you).

Part of you had been worried that Mason would be too exhausted after the early morning he’d had and the surgery to visit with them. But you also knew that, like you, Debbie would be worried about Mason following the procedure, and just being able to see him would do wonders to calm her nerves.

So as Mason took a well-deserved nap, you moved about the house, sweeping the floors, wiping down the counters, and making sure that everything had been put in its proper place. You washed the dishes that had accumulated in the sink over the last couple of days and put them away. You were sure to pass through the living room every few minutes to make sure Mason was still sleeping peacefully. You felt a warmth spread through your chest each time you checked on him, the blanket tucked up under his chin and a slight pout on his lips as his face was smushed into the pillow.

It came time for Mason to take the next dose of one of the medications the doctor had sent home with him, and he had just begun to stir from his nap as you sat down on the couch by his head. You reach out, threading your fingers through his hair as he began to blink his eyes open, humming at your gentle touch.

“How you feeling?” you spoke softly to him.

“ ‘m good,” he mumbled, a grin on his face as he looked up at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes.

You returned his smile. “Good. Well, it’s time for you to take your medicine.”

He sat up slowly, grunting with the effort, which instantly put you on edge, worried that he was in pain. He must have noticed the look on your face when he looked over at you.

“I’m fine. I promise,” he moved himself up on the couch so that he was sitting next to you. He placed his hand on the back of your neck, gingerly leaning over to kiss you on the forehead. “Stop worrying yourself so much.”

You smiled sheepishly at him, feeling a little silly for how worked up you had been the whole day, but you couldn’t really help it. You would truly do anything for Mason, and the thought of him in pain was something you never wanted to even consider.

“Your parents should be here any minute,” you informed him once he had swallowed the pills. “Dinner is almost ready, so we should be ready to eat as soon as they arrive. Are you feeling hungry?”

“Of course. Especially if it’s your cooking.”

“Oh, shut up, you.” He laughed at your deflection, knowing that you had no clue how to accept a complement. Even so, he delighted in giving them to you often, watching your cheeks flush red and your eyes dart to the ground.

It was only a few minutes before you heard the knock on the front door, knowing it could only be Debbie and Tony. You gave Mason a quick kiss, instructing him not to move from the couch as you walk to the door. You opened it, greeting his parents as they both pulled you into warm hugs. You had met Mason’s family several times before, but your relationship with them was still new enough that you felt nervous any time they came around. You felt as though you needed to somehow prove to them that you were worthy of their son’s love, despite Mason’s constant reassurance that it was unnecessary, insisting that they already loved you. You still tried your best, though, making sure that everything was perfect at the house before they came over.

You led them to the living room so that they could greet their son and told them you’d be in the kitchen, putting the final touches on the food you had prepared. You caught Mason’s eye before you turned away, and he flashed a quick grin at you.

You were dishing the food into bowls when Debbie entered the kitchen, a kind smile on her face as she offered your help. You informed her that you were nearly done, but she could help with carrying the dishes to the boys.

“He seems like he’s doing well,” she said.

You nodded in agreement. “I think so. He hasn’t told me he’s had any pain since we got home, and I just gave him another dose of the pain medicine that the doctor sent home with us before you got here. Though you and I both know that he probably wouldn’t say anything even if he was in pain.”

The two of you shared a laugh over the stubborn boy that was dear to both of your hearts.

“How are you doing?” she asked suddenly.

“M-me?” Her question caught you off-guard as you dished food into the fourth and final bowl, and you looked up at her. Her lips were drawn together in a tight line as she examined your face.

“Yes, you. I know you well enough to know you’ve been running yourself ragged all day to keep him comfortable.”

“Oh,” you breathed, a warm feeling spreading through your chest at her motherly concern. It meant more to you than she realized that she would express that kind of affection for you. “Y-yeah, I’m alright. He’s a pretty good patient, so he makes my job easy.” You pressed a smile to your face despite the emotions you felt welling up inside you.

You handed Debbie the bowls containing food for Tony and herself and let her know you’d be in the living room in a moment. She walked out of the kitchen, and you lingered behind for just a moment, dabbing the tears from the corners of your eyes in an attempt to keep your mascara from running.

Just that simple question from Mason’s mother was so important to you. Knowing that she approved of your relationship with her son and saw how much you wanted to take care of him—it did wonders to calm your nerves surrounding your relationship with her and Tony.

Once you had collected yourself, you picked up the two remaining bowls and met Mason, Tony, and Debbie in the living room. You had decided that it would be best for the four of you to eat on the couch so that Mason could remain comfortable, and you could all continue to visit together.

Plus, you knew Mason and his father really wanted to continue watching the football match that had started a mere 20 minutes ago.

As you approached Mason, he gently swung his legs off of the couch cushion, patting the space where his legs had just been to signal for you to sit down. You did so carefully, still holding both bowls of food and he placed his legs across your lap, draping the blanket back over both of your legs. You were a little taken back by the display of affection in front of his parents but brushed it off as you handed the bowl to him.

He gave you a curious look, brows slightly furrowed, as he noticed the misty look in your eyes. You just replied with a slight shake of your head, a signal that the two of you would talk later.

You eagerly watched Mason and your two guests as they took the first bite of their food. It was one of Debbie’s recipes and you hoped desperately that you hadn’t let them down with the dish. As soon as you knew Mason had a surgery coming up, you had texted Debbie asking for the recipe for his favorite meal of hers, wanting to spoil him after the procedure.

Debbie and Tony both smiled, humming in appreciation as they got their first taste, and Tony remarked how good it was. Mason, ever the dramatic one, let out a groan, dropping his head onto the back of the couch, using words like “incredible” and “scrumptious” as he voiced his gratitude for the meal. He merely grinned at the way you rolled your eyes at him while your cheeks flushed red.

By the time the halftime show was wrapping up, you were collecting everyone’s dishes and carrying them into the kitchen to tidy up. Debbie appeared moments later, pushing you back into the living room and insisting that it was “the least I could do” to clean up your kitchen. You hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in.

You walked around behind the couch, threading your fingers through Mason’s hair to get his attention, He dropped his head back, eyes gazing up at you lovingly.

“Do you need anything?” you asked as you scratch his scalp lightly with your nails.

“Hmm,” he pretended to think for a moment before tapping his lips with his index finger. “Just a kiss.”

You laughed at him, leaning down as you held your hair out of the way so it wouldn’t get in Mason’s face. You pressed your lips to his gently, expecting to give him a quick peck. But Mason seemed to have other ideas, holding your face to his for a few seconds with a hand that had reached to the back of your head.

He let you pull back after a moment, and you gazed down at his upside-down face, adorning a lovestruck grin. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him today, but something had gotten him in a touchy and lovey mood.

“Anything else?” you whispered, caught slightly off-guard by his actions. Mason just shook his head, gesturing for you to come back to sit on the couch with him, and you resumed your position under his legs.

As you watched the football game, you did your best to keep up with Mason and Tony as they talked over the strategies of the teams and the technique of the players on the screen. The exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to you, and you felt your eyes slip closed, your head falling forward just slightly before you jolted awake.

Noticing this, Mason pulled you into his side and intertwined his legs with yours. Your head rested on his shoulder as he leaned back on the cushions, shuffling down slightly so that your neck wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Too tired to protest the PDA in front of his dad, you draped your arm over his stomach and quickly fell back asleep in the comfort of Mason’s arms. He ran the tips of his fingers over the skin of your arm, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head every couple of minutes as he listened to your steady breathing.

A knowing smile took over Debbie’s face as she re-entered the living room after finishing up in the kitchen.

“She’s a keeper, that one,” she pointed to your sleeping form. Your cheek was pressed firmly to Mason’s chest, causing a slight pout to form on your lips.

He looked down at your face, a smile spread across his lips. “She’s just amazing,” he replied earnestly. “She’s so selfless and hardworking, always taking care of me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her today.” He looked back up at his parents, holding you a little tighter. “I’m… really happy with her.”

Debbie and Tony smiled back at him, happy to see their son in a healthy and successful relationship.

“People like her are hard to come by,” Tony remarked. “You better do everything you can to keep her around.”

“Oh definitely,” Mason grinned, looking back to the football match on the TV screen. “At this point, if she leaves me, I’m going with her.”

tag list: @masonspulisic @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fics #footballer fics #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #football imagine #football fics #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount angst #mason mount blurb #chelsea fc

[awfcspencer]

Teacher’s Pet || jessie fleming x reader

jessie fleming x ucla!reader

prompt: You and Jessie have a class together at UCLA.

warnings: none! fluff

UCLA had always been your dream school. Located in the sunshine state, surrounded by beaches and warm weather, it was a highly sought after university. You had worked your tail off in school to make sure you received the best marks and made sure to volunteer often and join extracurriculars to strengthen your application to the prestigious school. It took weeks to finally hear back from UCLA, but your dream had come true and you had gotten in.

Arriving on campus was a surreal feeling. You had dreamed of being here for years and now you were finally here. UCLA was a massive campus, there were parents and students everywhere moving into the dorms. You had the help of your parents to help you move in so they took the bulk of the load, leaving you to get the rest. You were keen on taking one trip, knowing that the longer this takes, the busier the campus will get. So you pack the last few items high, barely being able to see the sidewalk ahead of you. It was all going according to plan until you unknowingly ran right into someone.

“Hey! Are you okay?” you hear from a soft voice as you are now sprawled out on the sidewalk, the items that were previously in your hands now thrown in different directions. You turn around and are met with piercing brown eyes and a hand reaching out to assist you up. Her hands are soft and she has freckles all over her perfect looking skin.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I totally did not see you there.” you immediately say out, feeling bad that you practically body checked the poor gorgeous girl. You begin to try to collect your stuff before this interaction gets any more awkward for you, cheeks blazing red.

“I don’t think you could see anything over that pile of stuff you had.” She joked out, her laugh was sweet, not to loud and not to quiet, you could listen to her laugh on repeat. “But seriously I am all good, no harm.” the girl in front of you said. She proceeded to bend down and help you grab the remaining pieces of stuff, briefly making hand contact as you both reach for the picture frame that was left, quickly you both realize and move your hands. Her cheeks now matched yours and she quickly put her hands behind her neck. You knew she had gotten nervous, but she looked so cute nervous, a shy girl.

“Well I need to get back to my parents.” you say, knowing they are probably wondering where you were. “Sorry again for running into you!” you yell out as you make your way to your dorm room. As you are walking back, you swore to yourself as you should have asked for her name, or maybe even her number. You turn back around and all you can see as she leaves is the UCLA Women’s Soccer backpack.

The rest of the day went swimmingly and the next few days were spelled out with random freshman orientations and meetings. Monday was your first day of classes and you couldn’t be more thrilled. You particularly enjoyed school, always being naturally gifted at it. Monday arrived and you made your way to chemistry. You had been one of the first to arrive so you picked a seat near the front of the class and got out your computer and notepad to get ready for class.

The class began to fill up rather quickly as the time drew nearer to 10 a.m. You weren’t paying attention until a backpack had been dropped on the floor at the desk next to yours, immediately noticing the women’s soccer badge. Maybe now was your chance to ask whoever it was if they knew the sweet girl you had ran into in the earlier days. Looking up to see who had sat next to you, you are met again with those same brown eyes that played on repeat in your head since you had first seen them.

“Hey nice to run into you again.” you blurted out, nerves taking over and you had no control over the words that left your lips. “I mean, nice to see you again, definitely not run into you again.” quickly saying as you try to regain your composure. There was something about the brown-haired girl in front of you that made you nervous.

“It really is all good.” she replied as she sent you a toothy smile. “My names Jessie by the way and to be fair, you could run into me every day.” Her comment only made you blush harder, unable to properly respond to her sentence as your brain was filled with fuzzy thoughts, but it was if you were saved by someone above because the teacher began talking about the syllabus and her rules.

The next few weeks of classes, you and Jessie had gotten closer, talking before and after class. You had found out that Jessie was from Canada and absolutely had a passion for soccer. You loved seeing her light up whenever she got the chance to talk about the sport. But you were also able to learn more about the girl on the inside, she was typically very shy and reserved but once she was out of her shell, she was way more open, and incredibly funny. You and Jessie also began having little study sessions together because with Jessie’s busy student athlete schedule, she had to miss class sometimes and you would help fill her in on what she missed.

Tonight was a really important match for UCLA as they took on Stanford, another powerhouse PAC-12 team and an in-state rival. Jessie had begged you for days to come to one of her games and you had finally caved, secretly liking when she begged. You sported the 21 numbered jersey as you watched Jessie do her thing on the field. It was like watching poetry in motion when Jessie had the ball, putting the icing on the cake when she scored a hammer of a goal in the 82nd minute. You cheered loud and proud throughout the whole game. When she scored, she looked up into the bleachers and sent you a wink.

Finding her after, you congratulated her on the crucial win as you heard all week how this game was a must win for the team.

“You did so good J! I am very impressed. If only you were that good at chemistry.” you sarcastically joked with her as you gave her a big hug. Even post 90 minutes, she looked stunning.

“That hurts” she replies as she clutches her heart, pretending to be offended.

“Oh whatever.” you say back to her, gently shoving her shoulder.

“Are you coming back to my dorm? So we can study for the midterm exam coming up?” she questioned you, sending you the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster up. You couldn’t possibly say no to her.

“Yeah of course I can, but only because you always have the best snacks in your dorm” you tell her.

Back in the dorm Jessie had hopped in the shower quickly as you reviewed some of your notes and the study guide the teacher had given you. Your thoughts lingered and you began to think how you were undeniably falling for the girl. She was sweet and kind, she wouldn’t even hurt a butterfly. Your personalities mixed perfectly and she was incredibly easy to talk to, you could spend hours talking to her about anything. But you did not want to ruin the friendship you had with her, it was to important to you. What if the feelings were not mutual? You couldn’t possibly bare the embarrassment.

Jessie snaps you out of your thoughts as she called your name.

“Hey! You all good? You looked very deep in thought.” she spoke as she had finished her shower and replaced her previous outfit with a pair of sweats and a UCLA jumper. She smelled like vanilla and coconut and her curly hair fell perfectly off her shoulders.

“Yeah all good, don’t worry about it.” you brushed it off, hoping she wouldn’t push you on it. Now refocusing on the computer in front of you.

“No if it’s affecting you, we can talk about it. I want to be there for you.” she quickly responded back, moving onto the bed to sit next to you as she placed a finger under your chin and pushed up so your eyes would meet. Before you knew what you were doing, you placed your lips on hers and she returned the action. Shockwaves were sent through your body as your lips met, moving rhythmically. Her lips were soft and plump. You two eventually pull apart, both needing to catch your breath.

“Wow” is all you can shakily say. You look up at Jessie and send her a big grin. “I’ve been thinking of doing that since I met you the first day on campus.” you admitted.

She simply just replies back by meeting your lips again. Saying, “Me too” in between breaths.

After a few minutes, you now remember why you were even in Jessie’s dorm to begin with.

“J we need to study for our midterm” you explain out to her as you move to fix yourself and find your notes that were sprayed on the floor, pushed out of the way earlier. Jessie simply stayed still, pouting like a child because you stopped kissing her.

“I don’t want to study now.” she said out, crossing her arms, resulting in a laugh from you.

“We can make it a little game, you get a question right and I will give you a kiss.” you said, trying to persuade the pouting girl.

“Fine.” she stated out in a sarcastic annoyed voice, “Didn’t realize my girlfriend was a teacher’s pet” she joked out.

“Girlfriend?” you questioned out, “Fleming you haven’t even asked me yet” looking towards her, eyes meeting.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” she begged out, putting out her lip.

“Only if you get a B or better on this exam” you reply back, knowing exactly how to rile her up.

“Hand me the study guide” is all she said, immediately pulling out her textbook and computer. All you could do was laugh at the girl.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #woso couples #womens soccer #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #chelsea women #woso fluff

[leilakisakabiri]

Spanish Boy (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi attend a Chelsea game and he think’s you’re a little too into the game, or more specifically number 11.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Please send in requests if you have any! Guys I wanted to make this angsty but it just ended up being fluff like usual. Oh well. 

Word Count: [1735]

Masterlist

“Ahh I’m so excited I can’t believe I finally get to see them play.”

Gavi grinned in the seat beside you, bumping your shoulder. 

“I’m glad you get to see them, but to be honest they’re shit this season.” 

You gasped offended, “Ok Gavi not everyone has to win La Liga to be considered good.” 

“They don’t even play in that league!” He argued. 

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever, UEFA, basically the same thing, just different clubs.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, “You sure you’re a Chelsea fan, or are you just going to see who I think you wanna see?” 

The two of you were currently driving to the Chelsea game happening in London. You had surprised Gavi with tickets last week and while at first he was just as excited as you, his excitement had quickly turned to annoyance once he realized just exactly why you were so intent on going to the game. 

He was sure you didn’t even care about Chelsea, more interested in supporting the player with the number 11 stitched on his jersey. 

He had walked in on you and your friend talking about said player just a few days ago.

Your friend had been saying how you were so lucky, and how hot he was, and you had just been giggling along. 

Gavi had backed out slowly from the kitchen once he heard your conversation, not wanting to intrude, and honestly a little hurt. 

Since then, his excitement had diminished immensely and now he was hating himself for scheduling a private tour of the stadium before the game started. 

“We’re here.” You said excitedly, looking out the window to see the large stadium come into view. 

Although you had traveled quite a bit to support Gavi at his games, the sheer size of some of the stadiums still took your breath away. You couldn’t believe that something that big was made for people. 

The driver took you to the underground entrance to give you some privacy from the fans that had already started congregating at the stadium entrance, counting down the minutes till the gates opened. 

“Ok we have two hours before the game starts. Let’s go get the tour.” Gavi said once the two of you had gotten out of the car, walking towards the entrance. 

You pulled his hand as he walked forward, stopping him, “Thank you Gavi. Really. This means a lot.” You said sincerely. 

The boy smiled at you, “No problem.” 

Once you walked into the building you were even more awestruck, the fangirl side of you taking over. 

You had grown up in a football household, meaning that every Saturday morning your TV would be playing various matches happening around the country. 

You had seen this stadium so many times on the TV when you were little, but now standing inside it, the Chelease logo apparent in everything, it was so surreal. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard Gavi greet someone, “Enzo how have you been?” 

You had to physically stop your mouth from dropping open. 

Enzo Fernandez was standing in front of you, and apparently Gavi knew him. 

You finally found your voice, “You guys know each other?” 

Enzo nodded, “Yah we met each other back at the World Cup.” 

Gavi nodded affirmatively.  

“Anyways let me show you guys around real quick.” Enzo spoke, gesturing for the two of you to follow him. 

“Ok, but don’t you have to get ready?” You asked him. 

He shrugged his shoulders, giving you a grin, “Eh, 20 minutes won’t hurt anyone.” 

You laughed at his answer, wishing you could take pictures of everything as he showed the two of you around. 

You finally got to the tunnels, and he pointed to just around the corner, “Over there is the locker rooms. I would show you, but the guys will probably be here soon.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about. No problem at all. We should probably get out there anyway.” You reassured him, waiting as Gavi said goodbye. 

You had just turned around you when you felt a body collide with yours. Hands reached out to grab you, stopping your fall. You looked up once the world stopped spinning, coming face to face with a very apologetic player. 

“Eu sinto muito linda.” He spoke, reaching up to pull off his headphones, eyes focused on you. (I’m so sorry beautiful)

“Sem problemas.” You said softly, still trying to gather your bearings. (No problem)

You saw his eyes light up, “You speak Portuguese?”

You were about to respond when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. 

You mentally hit yourself. 

You looked over your shoulder to see Gavi come to stand beside you. 

“Joao.” Gavi spoke, his voice coming out harsher than needed. 

“Gavi.” Joao replied, voice taking on a similar tone. 

You looked between the boys. It was no surprise that they weren’t exactly friends. Joao used to play for Atletico Madrid, one of Barca’s biggest rivals. The two had problems on the field long before you, and whatever stand off they where having now. 

“Well enjoy the game.” Joao finally said, moving past you. 

You gave Gavi a look telling him to play nice as well. 

His lips remained in a firm line but he let out a small, “Thanks.” 

You had just started walking again when you heard Joao call out, “What’s your name?” 

You turned back, puzzled if he was talking to you, but by the way he was making direct eye contact with you, you guessed he was, “Y/n?” You said, but it came out more as a question. 

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips, “I’ll remember that.” 

You felt Gavi stiffen next to you but he didn’t say anything. You could see the veins on his arm jut out as he balled his hand into a fist. 

You were both silent as you walked to your seats. 

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You tried to break the silence with a lame joke, “So that was kinda intense back there huh?” 

You saw Gavi give you a glare before he turned back, focusing his attention on the field. 

“Oh c’mon now you’re ignoring me?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer. 

“The games not even going on. You’re literally staring at grass.” You huffed, trying to get him to break. 

He hummed in response, but still no words. 

“Did I do something?” 

Again nothing.

“Ok so I did do something?” You questioned. 

Silence. 

“Ok I’m taking your silence as a yes.” You continued. 

Nothing. 

“Bro I really feel like this is one sided.” You muttered. 

“Did you just call me bro?” Gavi questioned finally breaking his silence. 

You let out a cheer, lifting your arms in the air, “Hooray, he’s finally talking to me, and it only took me calling him bro to respond. How sweet is he?” 

He glared at you again not appreciating your sarcasm, “You know why I’m mad.” 

“But I don’t. So if you could just tell me.” You dragged out, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

He turned to look at you and suddenly your faces were centimeters apart. You couldn’t focus on what he was saying too consumed memorizing the pattern of the freckles that were scattered across his nose, so light that if you weren’t standing close enough you would miss them. 

“Are you even listening to me?” He asked getting frustrated again. 

You chastised yourself, you really needed to start paying more attention. 

“Sorry I got distracted.” 

“Oh let me guess. Did Joao just walk onto the field?” He asked bitterly. 

Now you were confused. 

“Wait what? Joao? Why would I care about him?” 

He looked at you with the blankest stare, “So you’re going to sit here and tell me you weren’t flirting with him in the hallway?” 

“Flirting? What no way! We just bumped into each other!” You defended. 

“Right. Well in that case let me just go bump into Rosalia.” He muttered. 

“Gavi!” You smacked him on his arm, fighting back a laugh. 

That was the thing about you and Gavi, you could never stay serious for long. Even when something was bothering the other person, yes you would talk about it, but a few jokes would still be made, giving your relationship the air of lightness and security that you loved. Your relationship made you want to fly with Gavi, not drag him down with your baggage. 

“I’m sorry if it looked like that, but honestly, I only like you.” You said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Someone tell that to Joao.” He joked.

You grinned at him, “I will. After the match if you want.”

He grabbed your wrists, trapping you beside him, leaning in, “You. You stay away from him.”

You were centimeters away from him again and this time you couldn’t help it. You leaned in closing the distance between you.

You kissed him sweetly, pouring all the emotions you felt for him, all the love, all the things you wanted to say to him but were too shy to. 

Your hands traveled from his shoulders up to his annoyingly soft hair, one hand getting tangled in his locks, while the other went around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

Damn you really needed to steal his hair care routine. Shit was so soft. 

He bit on your lower lip playfully and you felt a shiver run through you.

You both pulled away after a bit, out of breath. Chests heaving as you looked at each other with glazed over eyes and lazy smiles.

“Hope no one saw that.” You whispered not willing to move away. 

“Hope Joao saw it.” He whispered back, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You both didn’t say much after that, watching as the match started.

The game ended up going well with Chelsea winning 2-0.

You both cheered once the final whistle blew, happy that the team you had come to support had won.

The team came over to the fans’ side of the stadium, celebrating their win.

You cheered along with everyone, “Hey Siri play London Boy.” You joked.

Gavi heard you, giving you the dirtiest glare.

“Kidding!” You laughed.

“He’s not even British! He’s Portuguese!” Gavi exclaimed.

You wrapped your arms around him, “It doesn’t even matter, cause I love my Spanish boy more.”

You felt Gavi cringe beside you, “Yah that doesn’t sound as good.”

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #gavi angst #gavi fluff #gavi one shot #gavi headcannon #pablo gavi imagine #joao felix #joao felix imagine #joao felix imagines #pedri #pedri imagine #Pedro Gonzalez #FC Barca #FC Barcelona #chelsea

[alltoolewis]

Timeless- Mason Mount

I'm finally off for the summer & finally back writing! This one is super special and is inspired by timeless by Taylor swift, if you haven't heard the vault track please listen to it while reading this! This has to be one of my favourite things I have ever wrote... Hope you all enjoy & I can't wait to write more! Hope this apologies for my absence Love you guys x

P.S I will not comment on him leaving to united btw... as Liverpool fan I am devasted 😒

Summary- When you and Mason are cleaning your nan's attic you discover a book of your grandparents love story... helping Mason think of the perfect anniversary present for you...

Words- 2.6k

"Mase please.." you squealed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, taking you by surprise as you continued to search through the old dusty boxes "This really needs doing and I never would of agreed to let you help if I knew you'd be messing around like this!" You didn't realise that agreeing to clean you nan's old attic would result in your clingy boyfriend of almost 5 years joining you. What was suppose to be a solo task, turned into a duo one the minute his brown eyes grew wide at your claim that you were leaving him for a couple of hours alone.

"I didn't know showing my beautiful girlfriend of 5 years love was classed as messing around..." he pouted, loosening his grip of you but of course not fully as his arm still hovered your waist. "It's not 5 years yet loser" You smirked, throwing something you believed was an old sock that was hiding in the box at him "We're still 3 weeks of that title!"  You still couldn't believe that it had already been that long. It felt like just yesterday that he caught your attention in the dimmed lightened room, his laugh being the loudest noise as the speakers blaring out the music you had always hated silenced, allowing you to hear what has since been your favourite sound. Since that night you had been by each others side, through the ups and downs, the spot next to him was always yours and vice versa... there was no Mason without (y/n) and he prayed there'd never have to be!

Silence filled the room once more, however the smiles never faded as you sorted through all your nans precious things. Growing up you never thought of your nan as a hoarder, her house was also tidy barely anything on display except the odd pictures of core memories but little did she know that she kept the purest things locked up here. From her old ballet shoes to her old school books, her old prom dress to a rock she found on her secret dates with your late grandfather... she kept everything.

"What's this?" Mason asked curiously, lifting up a book covered in dust and cobwebs. Being nosy of his new finding, you quickly went to where he was sitting next to him on the old fragile footstool, floor creaking as you did so. Your eyes hovered over the brown book in his hands, that it was safe to say that  time has took its toll on. Crouching down in front of him, your hand swept across the front cover, tears immediately filling your eyes as you read the words...

'THE STORY OF ANNIE & JOHN'

The words were followed by a photo of them together, smiles brighter than the stars as the look of love was written in there eyes. You had already heard the story of your grandparents many times from your nan... but seeing it in hidden pictures made your whole world freeze.

Noticing the sudden emotion in your face, Mason sighed "You okay, darling?" wiping away the fallen tears as they fell down your cheek, letting his hand hover there as a guard. Nodding, you gulped "Yeah... yeah I'm good.." Smiling he patted his knee, silencing telling you to come over which of course you obeyed. 

Now the book was on your knee as Mase held you tightly on his lap, head leaning over your shoulder as he traced comforting shapes on your arm. "Are you going to have a look honey?" He could see your clear hesitation to open it, as your hands strummed over the outskirts of the pages. Apart of you wanted to open the book, see the love of your grandparents everybody talked so dearly about, the love that was always compared to yours and Masons, however the other part of you couldn't help but think you were invading the privacy... you knew there story like the back of your hand. A secret romance that was forbidden by there families, your grandmother being in a privileged family who had a tradition to pick other privileged people for there children to fall in love with. While your grandad was the son of the maid, 2 years older than her but fell head over the heels the second he caught eyes with in his word 'a princess' They hidden what they had for years, scared that there families would tear them apart... but faith took its role and 12 years later they were happily married as a runaway couple, ready to start there new lives together.

As your mind wondered away, you felt his hand lace over yours, squeezing it tightly "It's okay (y/nn)? She would want you to see this??" You knew he was right... she'd be screaming for you to open it if she was there. Listening to him, you squeezed his hand back before opening it up. 

The pages looked just as battered as the front cover, but the love was still clear as rain. The book had different chapters, just like a fairy tale. It began with there first year, where your pop's mum first got the job and he was allowed to be involved in the staff picture where your grandmother stood just 5 people away. 

"I didn't know your grandad was in the war.." Mason whispered, scared to ruin the moment as you were flicking through there years together. It was there 7th year 'together'... the year your dad got drafted to fight in the war. "He didn't want to go" You mumbled back, hand touching the envelopes your nan had clearly stuck in the book "He wanted to stay with her although no one knew about them... he wrote her love letters, signed them off as Dave so no one knew it was from him"

"Didn't she call him Dave all the time..." Mason chuckled, squeezing your hip gently. He only had a few years with your nan, while with your pops he only had 1 short one & for the longest time he was convinced he was called 'Dave' "Yep!" You giggled back "Even after all those years together she still called him it. It was there secret code word..."

For the next couple of hours you flipped through the rest of the book, pausing to read the letters, see the small details of the grainy images. From there wedding to the birth of your mum, from the day they ran away together to the day your grandad came back to find your nan had been set up to marry someone else... it had all be recorded in the book.

Your heart broke when you flipped to the last filled page in the book, your grandads order of service leaflet from his funeral. Your heart broke even more when it came clear that your nan had placed it in by herself... ending there story together...

Noticing the tears falling faster down your face, Mason closed the book placing it gently down as he wrapped his arms tighter than ever around you, allowing you to sob in his chest. He didn't say much as you cried, just rubbed your back and whispered a few words of comfort, knowing what you needed most was time to absorb what you just saw.

Once you calmed down, you lifted your head back up to look at his warm brown eyes, his hand instantly going to your cheek "They we're amazing (y/n).." He smiled, causing you to mirror it back "They would been so happy you got to witness it through there eyes..."

"They were timeless..." You breathed out, looking down to the book on the floor that was bound to come home with the two of you.

"Just like we will be.."

Your head shot up to look at him with blood shot eyes "You think?"

"Oh I know we will!" He smiled, causing you to cuddle deeper into him "I hope so Mase..."

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

3 weeks later.....

"Mase stop!" You laughed as he picked you as you went to put the key in your new shared home in manchester  "Please stop we need to get in before it rains... stop messing around!"

"I didn't know showing my girlfriend of 5 years of affection was classed as messing around..." He sulked as your laugh continued to echo around the house, taking the heels that had killed your feet all night "and before you start I can call you that now!!"

"I know..." You smiled, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, one of many that day "and I couldn't be prouder to now say it.." Mason returned the kiss as he muttered I love you, which of course you mumbled back. Somehow you two ended up in your bedroom, his jacket through on the floor as the zipper on your dress began to be pulled down.

Just as it was about to get even more heated, he pulled back causing you to sigh dramatically. "Don't be dramatic lovie, we have all night to do that.." He laughed, dragging you to the end of the bed "But first I want to give you your final present of the night.."

"but mase you've already given me loads today.." You groaned, hating how much he had already spoiled you today. Giving you far to many presents, making you bed in breakfast and then taking you to the fanciest restaurant in Manchester. You honestly didn't know how he'd make the day even better before he pulled out a box placing it gently on your knee... "Now this one is kind of for the both of us..." He smiled wrapping his arm around you "But I think you'll appreciate it.."

Carefully, you untied the little red bow on the box lifting the box up with the expectation of finding more personalised jewellery. However your heart dropped to the floor as you saw something you'd never thought you'd see...

A book... Similar to the one of your grandparents but instead of there names it read...

'THE STORY OF (Y/N) & MASON'

And just like the other one, a picture displayed below it. One of you and him at the champions league final, your smiles brighter than stars and the same look of love they had.

"Oh my god M-Mase..." You speechlessly gasped, covering your mouth as tears escaped your eyes "I c-can't believe it.."

His eyes mirrored yours with tears as he placed his hand on top of yours "Open it darling.." He whispered, voice full of love "Don't be scared to read this one... it's ours only"

Listening to him like always, you opened the book, smile immediately spreading across your face as you flipped through to see the many filled pages of your story so far.  The first day you met at that party, the first selfie you took together, your first chelsea game, the day you moved together... every memory shared together was captured in perfect unison to the orginal.

"I didn't even know this exsisted!" You laughed messily, as you looked at the picture of you drunkenly asleep on Mason's lap at his Chelsea leaving party. You couldn't remember much of that day, other than you drunk the night away in hope that it took the sting away from living the beloved club and city... 

"Ben took..." Mason smirked "He sent it me the next day along with the video of you doing my celebration on top of the table..."  "Please say that's a joke.." You muttered as you hid your head in embarrassment, hoping that he  was lying..

"Nope!" He chuckled "I'll show you that later darling, first you have to finish this book!"

So you did. There wasn't much after that, other than his first day at united and your new home in Manchester... little did you know there was one final page to your story you were yet to experience...

"What's this?" You questioned as you flipped the page to see a brown envelope stuck to the page, similar to love letters your grandad use to write. Unable to say much, Mason whispered "Open it and see..."

With shaking hands you pulled out letter which was folded in half, his scruffy handwriting evident. You shot him one last look, nervousness written all over his face as you began to read the love letter addressed to only you....

My dear (y/n),

I've never been good at doing speeches or expressing how I feel, but with you by my side I feel as though I can do anything, so here I am... Ever since I saw you my whole world changed for the better. You fixed the hole in my life like a puzzle piece and ever since then I knew I'd never want to lose you.

The other week when I held you in your nan's attic made me think of if we met in another life, would be the same as we are right now... and the truth is sweetheart we would of have! Even if we met on a crowded street in the 40's or if I was sent to war and you were forced to marry another man... my head would of still turned for you just like it did at that party...

you still would have been mine, I'd of make sure of it!

I'm going to love you for the rest of our lives, till we have grey hair, mini mounts running around the place, a cardboard box stored of memories we made, we'll have it all! 

Our story starts now Angel... 

we're going to be timeless...

look forward...

Mase x

Tears poured down your face as you followed the letters instructions, showing him down on one knee, a small box with the most gorgeous diamond ring displayed in it, one that coincidently resembled the one your nan had...

"Mase..."

"(y/n)... will you please make me the happies man alive & spend the rest of your life with me??"

Unable to speak you nodded your head, falling to your knees as you wrapped your arms around him. "I love you so much.." You sobbed into his neck.

"I love you so much more..." He cried back, pulling back from you for a brief second to slip the gorgeous ring on your finger "This is your nans ring" He smiled "I asked your parents if it was okay if I gave it you... I want us to be a timeless classic like your grandparents, I want to fill that book up with you till the day we are torn apart by fate..."

Once more you were speechless as his arm wrapped around you, your head lay on his chest listening to the heart which had loved you for 5 years... there was no (y/n) without Mason and you prayed every minute of the day that you'd be the couple your grandparents were. A love so strong it could be seen from miles away, a love everyone dreamed of but only a rare few could experience... one that even time couldn't forget... Your going to be... 

TIMELESS

#england nt #football #football imagine #chelsea fc #money mase #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fic #mason mount blurbs #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #manchester utd

[trulyhblue]

write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was like…there’s something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldn’t say any more

Back To You

Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.

A/N — the demand for Niamhy is finally here…. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!

__________________

Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.

You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.

But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.

You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. You’d much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.

You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.

“Ready for today, Y/L/N?” Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.

Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. “Gonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't ‘ya?”

You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.

Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.

“Piss off, you two.” You heard a familiar voice snap. “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.

You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.

“Captain Niamhy to the rescue.” Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.

“C’mon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.” She chuckled. “Niamhy wants to show off the armband.”

“I’ll take your crutches, Kerr.” Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.

You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.

Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriend’s hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.

“You're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?”Her tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. “‘Gonna show everyone how good you are for me?”

You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.

“You’ve got to use your words, yeah?” She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. “I want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?”

“Yes.” You muttered.

Niamh tutted. “Yes…?”

You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. “Yes, Niamh.”

“Good.”

You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.

You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamh’s little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyone’s hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.

The whistle blew, and you were off.

Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Sam’s injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.

You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into United’s half to the best of your ability.

The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.

You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention — your girlfriend included.

You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.

You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within United’s half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earps’ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.

The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.

“What is she doing?” You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.

Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.”

You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.

You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that you’d walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.

Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannah’s hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.

You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part — this was not something you were expecting.

The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.

You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.

On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasn’t Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.

You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.

You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.

“Can't handle a tackle, can you?” She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. “Even Charles thinks so.”

“You're real cocky for fourth on the table.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “See you in the second half.”

Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. “Thats if you're not subbed off.”

You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.

The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.

Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.

Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.

The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.

It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katie’s shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.

“What's wrong?” Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. “Why the grumpy face?”

“You’re an absolute ride-off, you know that?” You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.

“I'm not the one always falling—”

“Oh, fuck off, Zelem!” You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.

You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.

You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.

“Did you see her knock her over?” Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. “She's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.”

The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. “You’ve been given the penalty.” She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.

You managed to leave Niamh’s grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.

“What are you waiting for?” She called out. “You take it.”

It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guro’s decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.

Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card — even when you only had a handful — and instead you’d be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.

The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.

The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.

Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.

_

The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so they’d meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.

“Yeah, the Aussie!” Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the woman’s energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.

Following Sam’s mischief, Millie’s arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. “Look at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't ‘ya?”

“Wasn't all me.” You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption ‘a smashing Tillie’ on her story.

“I remember your first goal for Australia,” Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.

“That was years ago, Kerr.”

Sam sighed, shaking her head. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamh’s jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.

Once you saw her leaving one of the reporter’s sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.

Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.

“Ready to go?” you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.

“You did so well today, baby.”

You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that she’d much rather see you without it instead.

“Want to show you how proud I am.”

She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.

“Niamhy.” You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.

“What do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?”

“Niamh, I—”

“Good girls get rewards, y’know?” Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. “Bet you’d enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone who’s slut you are.”

You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamh’s hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.

You forgot all about Niamh’s actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamh’s fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.

When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.

You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.

“So desperate, aren't we?” Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.

“Niamhy, please.” You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamh’s hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.

“Good girls use their words, don't they?” Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.

You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. “I've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said I’d get a reward.”

“Been so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?” Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. “Such a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.”

“Yes, so wet for you.” You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. “Just want you so bad, Niamh.”

“Bet you do.” You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamh’s hand met your breast. “Always wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.”

She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. “Such a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?”

Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. “Oh— yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.”

“Let me take this off first,” Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamh’s sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.

“Marking me up so good, baby.” You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. “Wanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.”

“So perfect for me.” She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. “Taking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?”

Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. “Want you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.”

When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.

Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.

“You've made me so proud, Baby.” She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. “But rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.”

“Just want you, Niamh.” You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.

Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping you’d make your decision more sufficiently than that. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.”

When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. “I thought you said you were my good girl?”

“I am! Just want you, though.”

Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange — which nine times out of ten she was — she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.

This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, she’d have different methods to get you speaking.

She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.

You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.

When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. “Niamhy—”

“Shut up and listen.” She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.

“Take off your pants. Keep your underwear on.”

You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.

“Come here.” Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. “Don't sit but hover.”

You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamh’s leg for further instruction.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.“Since you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.” You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. “You've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?”

Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.

“Yes, Niamh. I promise I do.”

Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.

“You’ll get your reward after this,” With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. “You're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.”

You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.

“You get to come,” Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. “But only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.”

Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when she’d cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.

But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.

You lowered yourself onto Niamh’s thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.

The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.

You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.

The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.

You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.

“I can do this all night, y’know.” You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. “I know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.”

“I was so close.”

“You could be so close every single time,” Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. “But if you do it again, I’ll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. You’ll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.”

“Niamh, that’s—”

She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.

She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.

“You're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.” She started. “Or, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.”

She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamh’s finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.

“Niamhy, want you— want you to—”

“Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”

When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.

“Want you to fill me— with your fingers-”

“Gonna make sure you're full of me, baby.��

She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.

“Your mouth— your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.”

“Pound into until you're subbed out, am I?”

You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.

“Want to ride you like now. Eat me— eat me out, Niamhy, baby.”

“Fuck, baby, say my name.”

You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.

The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. “Niamh, baby, I’m— fuck! I'm so close!”

Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.

“Come for me, baby.” She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.

You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamh’s thigh and yours.

“Such a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.” Niamh’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “Ride it out for me, baby. Yeah— just like that.” Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.

You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.

Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.

“We’re not done yet, love.”

You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.

_______________________

A/N — oh my god.

#niamh charles x reader #niamh charles #chelsea #chelsea women #woso x reader #woso fluff #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso smut #woso soccer #woso couples #woso #woso blurbs #chelsea wfc #lionesses x reader #lionesses #womens super league #katie zelem #ella toone #lucia garcia #hayley ladd

[pitchsidestories]

The Princess Diaries II Zećira Mušović x Reader

chelsea women masterlist

The Swedish Princess got enganged. Scroll further to find the whole transcript of their adorable engagement video with the swedish national team goalkeeper

Interviewer: So how did you two first met? gives them both a curious look

Zecira: To be honest I did not recognize who she was back when. grins sheepishly

Princess!Reader: That's true, for me personally I found that very refreshing smirks

Zecira: She says that now but I don’t think she did back then throws a teasing smile at her

Interviewer: What happened ?

Zecira: It all happened during a football game looks into the eyes of her fiancée

Princess!Reader: Yes, it was a sweden game of course slowly nods while she can't look away

Zecira: I think we even won that game smiles

Princess!Reader: Yeah you did so naturally I went to the after party to congratulate the whole team and you might have heard about it but swedish female football team partys are legendary chuckles

Zecira: You make it sound like it was a big deal laughs

Princess!Reader: Well it kinda was, you girls were securing the third place in the world cup her tone getting more serious

Zecira: Maybe it was kind of a big deal

Princess!Reader: See?

Zecira: So anyways, she was standing there and I didn’t know who she was speaks animatedly with her hands

Princess!Reader: Yes, which was nice and akward at the same time but my instinct was just go with it shrugs

Zecira: I might have had a few drinks already so I just went for it

Interviewer: You flirted with the princess ? shakes his head in surprise

Zecira: Yeah. But I didn’t know it at the time

Princess!Reader: True

Zecira: I only found out hours after that

Princess!Reader: Magda and Frido had to spoil it and tell her about my identity rolls her eyes

Zecira: Didn’t stop me from texting her though smiles confidently

Princess!Reader: Of course not because Z loves a good challenge winks at her fiancée before turning her face back to the camera

Zecira: I do grins bright

Princess!Reader: And what a challenge it was for our both families to accept this entwines her fingers with Zeciras while speaking about it

Interviewer: Tell us more about it.

Zecira: Well, my parents were panicking quite a bit shrugs it off

Princess!Reader: They did until I met them for the first time, remember that love?

Zecira: That’s what you say, they still panic before you come visit them jokes

Princess!Reader: Same, to be honest

Zecira: No, you don’t. Wait, you do? gives her an astonished look

Princess!Reader: Yes, I always feel like I might not be good enough for you in their eyes.. bites her lip

Zecira: Even though you’re a princess?

Princess!Reader: That does not mean I'm the perfect daughter in law, love..

Zecira: It doesnt? winks at her

Princess!Reader: Oh you disagree, huh? looks at her in amusement

Zecira: I do nods

Princess!Reader: Maybe your parents will change their minds too someday in a hopeful tone

Zecira: What am I supposed to say about that, huh? hides her face behind her long hands for a moment

Princess!Reader: next question, please ? turns her head to the interviewer

Zecira: See, she never wants to talk about that huffs

Interviewer: I can tell. But what the swedes want to know how was the propasal and who asked the big question?

Princess!Reader: I did. Really.

Zecira: She did sighs

Princess!Reader: Much to Z's dismay, she even shed a few tears gives her fiancée a teasing smile

Zecira: I had an allergy! laughs

Princess!Reader: In our flat in London ?

Zecira: Yes !

Princess!Reader: So you're allergic to romantic moments ? sounds skeptical

Zecira: Maybe.

Princess!Reader: Maybe?

Zecira: Yeah, my nose is running and my eyes are watering when there’s an emotional moment. Must be an allergy throws her hands up in defence

Princess!Reader: No, that's called feelings chuckles

Zecira: It is? irony dripping from her voice

Princess!Reader: Yeah

Zecira: Oh

Princess!Reader: So yes, we can't wait to get married as you can see grins

Interviewer: I can tell. Any plans for the future?

Princess!Reader: Actually, we do, which one do you think we can tell them, Z ?

Interviewer: you have several plans? interjects

Zecira: Of course but we also know that some things can't be planned..

Interviewer: For example?

Zecira: Children getting serious

Interviewer: That’s… a big plan laughs surprised about Zecira's openess

Princess!Reader: It's but we..

Interviewer: Yes ?

Princess!Reader: Nevermind blushes

Zecira: Let’s just say that our future plans are not that far into the future offers a mischievous smile to the camera

Princess!Reader: Exactly, that might be a good end for our interview, right?

Interviewer: Usually I should end the interview but sure. I think we got enough gives them a satisfied look

Princess!Reader: thanks shakes the hand of the interviewer

"Let’s leave, love.", with a huge smile on Zecira's face she took your hand in hers to get out of the studio where the engagement interview took place.

Hopeful you looked up to the taller woman: "Right, someone has a game to play and I hope Frido secured a good place for me."

"I’m sure, she did.", the goalkeeper reassured you.

With a glance at your phone you answered with a nod: Ah yes, she texted me earlier and is already waiting."

"See you after the game.", your fiancée hugged you fiercly.

Cheerful you wished her good luck.

In a flirty tone Zecira replied:" I don’t need that. I got you here."

Suddenly Fridolina who was still healing from her knee injury appeared at your side:" Don't worry, I'll take care of your princess for you."

"I hope you will.", Zecira said.

Quickly the injured blonde football player responded:"Promise."

"You better should. I’ll see if she’s happy after the game.", the goalkeeper warned her teammate jokingly.

After the match, you were in the stands, leaning down towards your fiancée so you could kiss her: "Your saves were amazing, Zecira !"

"Just for you, love.", the taller woman answered, looking overjoyed about the win.

"For you, the team and me."

"Yeah, fine.", Zecira snotted.

Your cheeks were flushing while you admited:"But it sounded very cute from your lips."

Cheekily your fiancée asked:" How does another kiss from these lips sound?"

"That sounds perfect." , you declared before the goalkeeper was drawing you in for an even more passionate kiss.

"Come here then."

To our readers: Do you like this form of storytelling? Should we do it more often ?

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso one shot #zecira musovic #chelsea fcw #zecira musovic x reader #fridolina rolfö #magdalena eriksson #fcb femeni #chelsea women #wwc 2023 #wwc 23

[pers1st]

just a spark

IN WHICH….

two players who really shouldn’t like each other feel… just a spark that ignites so much more.

🎙️ the greatest of stories starts with a death and an offer.

pairing: leah williamson x chelsea!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut (maybe?)

masterlist

- prologue

- chapter 1 (coming soon)

#woso community #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #chelsea women

[extremedelusions17]

The 4 times Jessie realized she loved you, and the 1 time she did something about it

j.fleming x reader

w/c: 1400

a/n: really fluffy, hope you enjoy xx

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

1.) Innocent touches

In the quaint town where you and Jessie Fleming  spent your formative years, movie nights were a cherished tradition. The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the living room bathed in the soft glow of lamplight. The air was filled with the familiar scent of buttered popcorn, and laughter echoed as the both of you settled onto the plush couch, your eyes fixed on the flickering screen.

As you reached over to grab the popcorn bowl, your fingers brushed in a seemingly innocent gesture. "Oops, sorry," you chuckled, not noticing the subtle change in Jessie's demeanor. For Jessie, time seemed to pause in that fleeting moment. A gentle spark ignited within her chest, a sensation she struggled to comprehend. Lost in the movie, you remained blissfully unaware of the subtle shift

Jessie stole glances at her best friend, trying to decipher the warmth lingering in her chest. It was a momentary touch, but in that instance, Jessie felt the boundaries of your friendship expanding into uncharted territory. As the characters on the screen continued their antics, Jessie's mind was elsewhere, grappling with the newfound awareness. Could a simple touch hold the potential to redefine a relationship? She pondered the question, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and curiosity.

The characters on the screen continued your antics, but Jessie's mind was elsewhere, grappling with the newfound awareness. Could a simple touch hold the potential to redefine a relationship? She pondered the question, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and curiosity.

As the credits rolled, signaling the end of the movie, Jessie found herself lost in contemplation. The room, once filled with laughter and shared moments, now seemed to pulse with unspoken tension. It was a tension that Jessie wasn't sure she was ready to unravel, yet it lingered like a delicate thread, connecting her to a reality she hadn't fully explored.

2. The Shared Secret:

Under the watchful gaze of the moon, Jessie and you often found themselves immersed in late-night conversations. The symphony of crickets serenaded them as you confided a hidden passion. Jessie listened intently, not just to the secret itself but to the vulnerability in you's voice.

"That's amazing, you," Jessie responded with genuine enthusiasm. "I had no idea you felt that way."

you chuckled, a hint of self-consciousness coloring her cheeks. "Yeah, it's something I've kept to myself for a while."

As Jessie absorbed the weight of you's revelation, she realized the depth of the connection they shared. The trust and vulnerability exchanged under the moonlight created a bridge between them, revealing layers of each other's souls that went beyond the ordinary. It was in that moment that Jessie recognized her feelings for you were evolving into something deeper.

your conversation meandered into the late hours, topics shifting seamlessly between dreams, aspirations, and shared confidences. The night air held a certain magic, and Jessie couldn't help but wonder if this newfound intimacy was a prelude to a deeper connection.

As dawn approached, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, Jessie felt a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation. The shared secret had opened a door to unexplored territories, and she found herself standing at the threshold, contemplating the path that lay ahead.

3. The Comfort in Silence:

By the riverbank, where the flowing water created a gentle melody, Jessie and you found solace in each other's company. A lazy afternoon unfolded as they lay side by side, the sun casting a warm glow on your surroundings. The rhythmic sound of the river seemed to synchronize with the beating of your hearts.

"You know," you broke the silence, "these moments with you are some of my favorites."

Jessie smiled, her heart echoing the sentiment. "Mine too, you. It's like we have our own little world here."

In the tranquil intimacy of that moment, Jessie acknowledged the emotions she had been harboring. The unspoken language of your companionship revealed a longing that hinted at something more profound than mere friendship.

As you continued to bask in the serene atmosphere, Jessie couldn't help but feel a gentle tug at the strings of her heart. The shared silence spoke volumes, and she wondered if you sensed the same undercurrents that were reshaping your connection.

The rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds became the soundtrack to your contemplation. Jessie's mind, now a canvas of introspection, painted scenarios of shared futures and unexplored emotions.

4. The Unspoken Jealousy:

An unexpected wave of jealousy crashed over Jessie one day as she observed you engrossed in conversation with a new teamate. Trying to conceal her emotions, Jessie walked home with you, a subtle turmoil stirring within her. you, ever perceptive, noticed the change in her demeanor.

"Jess, is everything okay?" you asked, concern etched on her face.

Jessie hesitated before responding, "Yeah, just had a weird day."

you studied her for a moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

The unspoken words lingered in the air, and Jessie, with a heavy heart, nodded in response. It was a moment of acknowledgment, a recognition that your relationship was evolving, and Jessie was beginning to grapple with emotions she had yet to fully understand.

As days turned into weeks, Jessie found herself navigating the intricacies of her own emotions. The unfamiliar pang of jealousy had unveiled a side of her feelings she hadn't anticipated. She questioned whether this emotional turbulence was merely a passing storm or a harbinger of deeper revelations.

The town, with its familiar streets and comforting routines, seemed different to Jessie now. Every interaction with you carried an undercurrent of unspoken tension, an uncharted territory that both fascinated and frightened her.

5. The Subtle Glances:

Subtle glances had woven an intricate language between Jessie and you. Across the bustling school courtyard or during family gatherings, your eyes would meet, linger, and then avert. Each stolen glance became a silent confession that spoke volumes.

One afternoon, as you sat on the porch, Jessie couldn't help but catch your eye. "What?" you teased, a playful grin on your face.

"Nothing," Jessie replied, her cheeks flushing. "Just... I don't know. Us, I guess."

you raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on her lips. "What about us?"

Jessie hesitated before admitting, "There's something about the way we look at each other. It's different, i just don't know why."

Your expression softened, and for a moment, your eyes locked in a silent understanding. It was a realization that they were navigating uncharted waters, and the unspoken language of stolen glances was steering them toward something profound.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the porch, Jessie and you remained in your silent reverie. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air, an invisible bridge that connected your hearts in ways words couldn't express. 

You leaned in closer and kissed Jessie's lips, embracing the feeling of her body pressed against you as the tension between you both heightened. Her breath came in quick and shallow breaths as you held her close, your hands caressing her skin and your fingers digging into her arms as your lips embraced. You felt her heart race against yours as the heat of your passion overtook you both. With the sun setting below the horizon, you remained in a silent reverie together as the unspoken words hung heavy in the air, connecting your hearts.

With the unspoken words finally broken and the tension finally let loose, you found yourself carried away in a flood of feeling. Jessie's body pressed up against you as your lips embraced in a heated kiss. Her breath came in quick and shallow breaths, her fingers digging into your arms as she embraced you. You could feel her heart racing against yours, the heat of your passion overtaking you both.

As your lips parted and your bodies separated, you both breathed a shaky breath, trying to catch your breath as you processed the wild moments that had just passed. and as you locked eyes, a shared smile broke across both your faces. It was a moment of realization, a turning point in the silent dance that had been unfolding for so long. With the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged, you both leaned into each other, foreheads touching in a silent promise of more moments yet to be shared.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso fluff #woso one shot #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #jessie fleming #chelsea women #jessie fleming imagine

[jude5bellingham]

imsg ౨ৎ levi colwill

pairing: levi colwill x reader

notes : popipo pipo!

#football fanfic #football imagine #football imagines #football instagram au #football one shot #football x reader #football social media au #football texts #levi colwill #levi colwill x reader #levi colwill x you #levi x reader #levi x you #levi colwill texts #levi colwill imagine #football x y/n #football fake texts #football #chelsea fc #chelsea x reader

[pulisicsgirl]

take the pain away - mason mount

summary: Y/N gets hurt, and Mason is immediately at her side, doing anything he can to take the pain away

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 3.1k

warning/tags: hurt/comfort, mentions of an injury, sickeningly sweet, tooth-rotting fluff, established relationships, also I wrote this in an airport and it all feels like a fever dream, so tbh I have no idea what any of this says... enjoy!

requested: yes!!

notes: here is another request! so sorry it took so long to get out - nursing school has been kicking my butt these last couple of weeks. thank you so so much for requesting! (and I'm already working on your other one :) )

It was a beautiful day at Cobham as you stood pitch-side, a rare warm March day in London. Your camera was raised to your face as you watched the Chelsea boys practice through its lens, snapping a few photos. Due to the nicer weather, both the men’s team and the Academy players were outside training in the afternoon, and you had jumped at the opportunity to get a few photos that could be used later on Chelsea’s Instagram.

These were your favorite days, when you got to spend time around the teams, watching them interact and doing your best to capture the chemistry between them with your camera. It surely beat the alternative: spending the day indoors, in a corner office, your time consumed by editing photos and sending various emails.

Plus, you would never turn down getting to watch your athletic boyfriend work his magic.

You panned your camera to the left, catching a few of the boys standing in line to wait their turn for a shooting drill that Potter was having them run. Your lens found Mason standing in the back of the line, and your heart fluttered as he looked straight at you, pulling a silly face to try to make you laugh.

You dropped the camera from your face, giggling slightly as you pressed a couple buttons to look at the pictures you had taken. Maybe you would keep those for yourself.

You looked back up at him, shaking your head slightly at his antics. Mason, with a satisfied grin on his face at succeeding to make you laugh, turned back to the line of boys in front of him, bouncing on his toes to prepare to run the drill.

After a few more minutes, Potter divided the boys into three groups, running a new drill with only a couple of the groups at a time. This left one of the groups to take a short rest, and Ben and Kai approached you, after grabbing their water bottles, to greet you.

One of the things that you loved about both working for Chelsea and dating Mason was that you had developed a close friendship with many of the players, having been able to hang out with them outside of work more and more as time went on.

Ben greeted you with a short pat on the back, refraining from hugging you so he didn’t get his sweat on you (which you greatly appreciated). Kai placed his hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair as he laughed mischievously. You scowled at him playfully, attempting to fix your hair as they began asking how you had been recently. You quickly got lost in conversation with them, raising the camera to your face intermittently to get a few photos of the boys still on the pitch.

Behind you, the Academy boys were practicing, running a scrimmage before they concluded for the afternoon. With your back to the group, you hadn’t seen the Academy player dropping to the ground in a slide in order to keep the ball in-bounds. You hadn’t seen the way that he misjudged his speed, sliding far beyond the ball and the sideline of the pitch, right toward where you were standing.

Ben and Kai saw it, though, as if it was happening in slow motion, but still too quickly for them to do anything about it. The only warning you had was a split second where the their eyes both went wide, reaching their arms up to try to pull you out of harm’s way. They tried to shout a warning to you, but it was too late.

The young boy slid into your ankles and you heard a sickening crunch as he knocked you to the grass.

Mason’s head whipped around quickly as he heard you cry out, a chill rushing down his spine as he immediately recognized it as your voice. He saw you on the ground, along with the Academy player as Ben and Kai rushed to your side.

You were confused—disoriented to say the least. Your back had hit the ground abruptly, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you gasping for air. You saw the boy getting up to his knees next to you, rushing out some apology you couldn’t focus on. You saw Ben drop to his knees at your side, and it felt like your head was spinning. You tried desperately to regain your breath, draping your arms over your face as you lay on the ground.

It was then that the brief rush of adrenaline wore off, and the pain set in quickly. A shooting pain tore through your right ankle, causing you to cry out again. In the frenzy of the whole thing, you could hear people trying to speak to you, but they seemed distant, and you couldn’t make out anything that they were saying. You grit your teeth, hating that there were so many people here to see your vulnerable state.

A pair of hands on your sides grounded you back to reality, and you moved your arm, squinting against the sunlight to see that Mason was at your side, kneeling next to your face. His eyes were wide with concern, and his voice started to pierce through the ringing in your ears.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

You tried desperately to blink back the tears you could feel springing to your eyes. In most any circumstance you refused to let anyone see you cry, determined to maintain a tough exterior, but the throbbing in your ankle proved to be more than you could handle.

The Academy player that had tackled you was now on his feet, still desperately trying to apologize for his actions. Mason turned and shoved him away from you, shouting something about backing away from you. You saw Reece grab the boy by the shoulders and talking quietly to him, no doubt trying to defuse the situation while also reversing any damage done by Mason’s shouting. He was, after all, just a kid, and he hadn’t intended to hurt anyone.

“Mase, please.” You grabbed a fistful of his training shirt, bringing his attention away from the young player and back to you. He looked back at you, his eyes softening as he heard you whimpering in pain. He helped you sit up halfway, pulling you into his chest. You buried your face in his neck so that no one could see the tears that slid down your cheeks, still holding his shirt tightly in your fist.

Mason slowly stroked his fingers up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you as Ben explained what had happened. Your leg was still throbbing, leaving you unable to focus on anything that was happening around you. Mason pressed a kiss to the top of your head, whispering soothing words in your ear. He desperately wanted to take the pain away from you, but he didn’t know how.

You felt Mason’s muscles tense up, as he suddenly felt that there were too many people crowding around you. “Everyone back up!” he shouted, startling you. “Back up! Give her some space!”

Several people took a couple steps back at his sudden outburst, but Kai rested a hand on Mason’s shoulder to calm him. “They’re the physios, mate. They’re trying to help.”

When Mason lifted his eyes, getting a better look at the two individuals who were now coming to your side, he realized that Kai was right, recognizing the physios from times that he had spent in recovery after being injured.

One of the physios, a middle-aged woman with a reassuring, gentle look in her eyes, told you she was going to take your shoe off and waited for your short nod before she began undoing the laces.

Mason’s heart clenched in his chest when you gazed up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He did his best to give you a comforting smile, despite the sickening feeling in his gut at seeing you in so much pain.

The physio did her best to removed your shoe without causing you any more pain, but the slight movement of your foot still caused you to whimper out in pain. You grasped Mason’s bicep, and he hissed slightly as your nails dug painfully into his arm, but he didn’t dare to let on that you had hurt him.

When your sock and shoe were both removed, Mason could see that your ankle had already become swollen, beginning to flush a deep shade of purple.

“We’ll need to bring her up to the facility and wrap this,” the physio spoke, more to Mason than to you. She placed a hand gently on your knee, trying to bring your attention to her. “Do you think you can try to walk on it? I don’t think it’s broken.”

You nodded, trying your best to be tough. You let go of Mason’s arms, and he untangled his arms from around you, moving to stand in front of where you were sitting. You took his hands, letting him pull you to your feet as you kept all of your weight on your left leg. The breeze chilled the thin layer of sweat that had formed on your neck.

Mason still held tightly to your arms, standing in front of you and intensely watching your eyes as you tried to settled your foot to the ground, putting some weight on it. Your face contorted in pain immediately as a shooting pain radiated from your ankle up your leg, and your knee gave out. Mason was quick to catch you before you fell. You shook your head vigorously, letting out a quite “I can’t”.

Mason swept you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he followed behind the physios and walking as gently as he could so he didn’t cause you any unnecessary pain. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you instinctively buried your face in his shoulder again, finding comfort there.

When you finally made it into the training facility, Mason followed the physios into the treatment room, setting you down on a cushioned table so they could wrap your foot. You noticed then that Ben had followed you all inside, carrying your shoe and camera, which had, remarkably, remained unharmed in the clash. You smiled at him in thanks, and he walked over to you on the side that Mason wasn’t standing to give you a short hug and a kiss on top of your head before he went back out to rejoin training.

The whole ordeal had drained you of any energy, and you let out a sigh as you dropped your head onto Mason’s shoulder. The pain had faded slightly, into a dull throbbing, and his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back was helping to calm you.

“You doing okay?” he whispered, checking in. Your eyes slipped shut and you nodded into his neck, too tired to say anything in reply.

The physios looked over your ankle, deciding it wasn’t a break, but rather a very bad sprain. They gave you some pain medication, put your foot in a boot, and instructed you to take it easy for a couple of days before you returned to your normal routine.

Mason took you home, waiting hand and foot on you for the rest of the day. He even took the next day off of training to look after you, despite your insistence that he didn’t need to. Though the pain had been miserable, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the extra attention that Mason gave you as a result of your injury. He was already a very touchy and affectionate person, but it had been dialed up to 10 ever since that day at Cobham.

That Friday, several days after your injury, Kai and Sophia were hosting a game night at their place. The boys didn’t have a game that weekend, and they wanted to use it as an opportunity to get together and just spend a chill night hanging out.

After reassuring Mason numerous times that you were still up for going, the two of you walked into the house, you wobbling slightly as you were still getting used to walking in the boot. The room erupted with noise as everyone shouted greetings as you entered. Several of the boys came over, patting you on the back or pulling you into a hug, saying how they had missed seeing you at Cobham since your injury. Your heart swelled with affection as you returned their hugs. Sophia came over, pulling you to the couch so that the two could catch up while the boys were talking to Mason.

The night went on, and you learned several new card games and board games. Being with everyone did wonders to lift your mood after a fairly dull week following your injury. Mason was still attentive, constantly touching you in some way at all times, whether than was an innocent hand on your thigh, or an arm wrapping securely around your shoulders and placing a kiss to your forehead every couple of minutes. But you could tell that he was glad to be out with his group of friends.

The rest of the group didn’t miss the extra protective air surrounding Mason as he kept an eye out for you the whole night. It was endearing to see how much he cared about you and the comfort that seemed to wash over him at being able to have you around with the rest of the team again. None of them had ever seen Mason be this way with any other girl—you all definitely had something special. But although they were happy for him, it didn’t stop the boys from poking fun at him periodically for it anyway.

The evening continued, and you began to grow more tired, but you refused to say anything to Mason because you truly didn’t want to leave.

Sophia brought out a new game as the time passed 11 pm, and the game night was showing no signs of slowing down. You opted to sit this game out, waving it off when Ben asked if you were alright.

Despite your best efforts to hide your exhaustion, Mason still noticed, ever the attentive boyfriend. He leaned back on the couch, wrapping his arm gently around your shoulders as Kai and Sophia set the game up on the table in front of you. You sighed in content, resting your head on his shoulder.

You closed your eyes as Mason pressed a kiss to your forehead and mumbled a short, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you nodded, turning so you could look him in the eye.

“Are you sure? Do you want to go home?” you could still see the concern in his eyes as he searched your face.

“No, no, I’m okay, really,” you smiling to try and reassure him. “I promise.”

Mason searched your face for a moment more, seeming to finally accept your answer as you laid your head back on his chest. He turned and continued talking with Ben, and as you looked back toward the table, Sophia held your gaze with a knowing look. She grinned at you, and you felt the blush rushing into your cheeks. You hid your face in Mason’s chest and suppressed a giggle.

Despite having been in a relationship with Mason for several months, he never ceased to make you giggly and giddy with his affectionate gestures. Sophia was always the first one to tease you about how flustered he made you.

The game night resumed as soon as everyone understood the rules, and you untucked yourself from Mason’s side so he could lean forward to play the game. You sat quietly, content to watch as everyone else played and joked with one another. But the longer you watched, the more your eyes began to droop. Like there was a magnet pulling you, you felt drawn toward Mason as you began to slump over from exhaustion, and you laid your head on his shoulder blade. Without turning from the game, he reached behind him, pulling your arms so that they were wrapped around his waist.

You held to him tightly, soothed by his breathing and the sound of his soft laughter every now and then. Mason kept one hand on your arms, where they met in his lap, stroking his thumb softly over the back of one of your hands.

After several minutes of silence from you, he grew suspicious of the fact that he hadn’t felt you move in a while – not even a slight shift.

“You doing okay back there, Y/N?” he asked softly.

He was met with no answer. He furrowed his brow, turning his head to look at you, but he couldn’t move far enough to see your face without shifting you.

“Y/N?” he repeated.

“I think she’s asleep, mate,” Ben commented, sitting on your other side, where he had a clear view of your face. Your cheek was slightly squished from where it was pressed against Mason’s shoulders, lips parted as the muscles in your face relaxed completely.

Mason couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his face as he unwrapped your arms from his waist, pulling your legs so that they draped across his lap and he could hold you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head as you stirred before settling into his side.

“You lovebirds can’t keep your hands off of each other, can you?” Kai teased, grinning at the smitten look on his friend’s face.

“Oh, give it a couple years,” Ben chuckled from the other side of the couch, jumping at the opportunity to get under Mason’s skin. “They’ll be sick of each other soon enough.”

Some of the guys laughed at his remark, knowing he didn’t mean it at all. Mason just kept looking down at you as you laid on his chest, a loving look in his eyes.

“Nah, a couple years from now, I’m gonna marry her,” he replied matter-of-factly, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. The rest of the group smiled, silently coming to the decision to let you all be and continue playing their game.

With your face tucked into Mason’s chest, he couldn’t see the smile that curled your lips as you heard his words just before you fell back to sleep.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fics #footballer fics #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #football imagine #football fics #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb #chelsea fc

[taurussbabe]

Can u pls do cling Joao

Clingy boy

about...🧸☝️ word count: 0.5k

You felt the sun creeping through the blinds, you looked around, realizing it was not your room, panicking for a split second, still in your morning haze, before realizing it was just João’s room. You felt the weight of his arm around your waist and his hot breathing on the nape you’re your neck. You turned around in his arms, facing him and you realized he was still sleeping, you took a moment to just take a good look at his face, spotting all his little freckles and acne scars. You loved all of him, including all his imperfections, as he liked to refer to them, because to you, he was 100% perfect.

You couldn’t help but trace all those marks with your finger.

“Good morning” you hear him say and then buries his face in your neck, spreading feather light kisses on your collarbone, making you ruffle his hair and softly press a kiss to his forehead.

“Morning, baby” you started to get out of bed, but you got pulled back “Joao, I have to shower.”

“Fine, let’s shower then” he says, getting out of bed and pulling your hand toward the bathroom.

You laugh at his clinginess as you watch him rub his eyes, still pulling you. You watch him take off his clothes as you lean against the doorway, enamored by the way he does it. Still sleepy, he pulls at your shirt, dropping it on the floor nearby, he then does the same with the rest of your clothes. He turns on the water and kisses you on the cheek, hugging you from behind before walking in the shower. You’re both silent, but a comfortable type of silence. You walk in the shower and kiss him, and what started as a sot kiss turned into something way more passionate.

“I love you” he said as he brushed your hair out of the way making a small tint of red appear in your cheeks.

“I know” he made a fake offended face and tickled you until you placed both hands on his chest “I love you too, you know it.”

After having a little water fight, which you had called childish and he had proved your point by pouting, you got dressed and decided to make breakfast.

“I should go home after breakfast” you said while hugging his body from behind as he cooked something for both of you.

“Don’t” he turned around and kissed you so strongly you had to take a step back, which caused you to get cornered between him and the refrigerator “I don’t want you to go somewhere else to go home, move in.”

You placed a hand in the nape of his neck and another in his chest “You’re just saying that because you are extra clingy today.”

“Okay, first, no I’m not, second, you know that’s not true, I love you, I want to wake up everyday next to you” he gave your hip a light squeeze.

“Are you sure?” you asked, and he nodded feverishly, causing a grin to creep its way onto your face but he quickly kissed you, biting your lip ever so softly.

“I love you so much” he kissed your nose, your cheeks, and every single part of your face “too much.”

He spent the rest of the day practically glued to you, either kissing every part of your body, or hugging you tight, or just simple things like whispering I love you’s and taking pictures and videos of both of you.

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