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#football: manchester united
b14augrana · 6 days
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'Scrubber'
Your first time versing Lyon was the match of your dreams
Barça Femení x teen!reader
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pt. 3 masterlist
Warnings: lots of happiness and not proofread as per usual … 😁
A/N: i forgot to mention that mapi's knee is 100% functioning and not crippled in this series!!!! i’ve decided to turn it into a series because i love our hay day obsessed reader so much.
also, reader takes alexia’s place in scoring a golazo because our wonderkid needs her time to shine and what better time to shine than in a uwcl final 🪄🪄 (peep my reference in the fic to the gif im so smart)
we need a nickname for little miss wonderkid so i dont constantly refer to her as reader so plz suggest some in my asks 🥹
You were way too nervous for the final to function. You regretted eating breakfast that morning because it felt like you were about to throw it all up.
Honestly, you were even nervous to look at the players. You stood timidly between Lucy and Irene in the line, secretly hoping you never had to leave the tunnel. You did not want the likes of Ada Hegerberg charging towards little 16-year-old you.
You glanced down at the ‘NV15’ written on your wrist in black. That forever-present question of 'What would Vidić do?' loomed in your mind.
He wouldn’t be worrying about anyone on the opposition. He’d just be worried about breaking the Brexit tackle world record and keeping everyone in white as far away from the goal as possible.
The officials at the end of the tunnel signalled to both teams, which meant it was time. As you emerged out of the tunnel, walking out to the sound of a stadium full of culers, you didn’t feel scared. The cheers from all around the stadium deafened you, but also made you feel an insane amount of pride.
As you stood beside your teammates, the Barcelona anthem blasted on the speakers and the crowd became a choir as they sung the anthem loud and proud. Your attention was in the stands, looking at all the people that had come to watch. You almost teared up when you spotted a little girl and her older brother wearing a jersey with your name on it. Your name. Just having a mascot blew you away, so seeing people you probably weren’t much older than, wearing jerseys with your name on the back, was a crazy concept.
It made you think about the future. It made you hope that one day, you’d grow up to be some little girl’s idol the way Vidić is yours.
“Get ready to shake hands, (Y/N),” Irene reminded you, noticing that you looked a bit spaced out. You brought yourself back to the present and nodded, sticking your hand out to shake the long line of Lyon hands.
When Alexia asked you to bend down and hold the match day pennant, it almost felt like blasphemy. Your mouth was slightly agape as she thrusted it into your hand. “But why me?”
“My knee is no good, it’s better if I stand,” she explained.
“But why m–”
“Just hold it, nena!” Alexia laughed, getting back in the line. You crouched down, holding the pennant in one hand and bracing the ground with the other as you smiled gingerly for the camera.
As soon as the photographer lowered his camera, you sprung to your feet and gave the pennant back to Alexia. “There you go, capi!” you said happily, motioning to Renard who was approaching with their own pennant to exchange. Alexia laughed and patted you on the back, mumbling a quick ‘gracías’ before turning away.
You walked over to the bench and shrugged your jacket off, folding it neatly for one of the team management to take to the locker room later on. With one last meaningful glance at your wrist, you ran onto the field to take your position. Irene was with you in the center and Lucy covered the right while Ona took care of the left. Jona had told you to be prepared for Mapi to come on, so you kept that in mind too.
As soon as the whistle was blown, you were relieved to see that Aitana, Mariona, Caro and Salma had already gotten things under control. That gave you time to scope out the Lyon front three and think about how to handle them.
You thought about what Lucy said. ‘Don’t get hurt trying to do extreme tackles.’
At the end of the day, it all came down to instinct. When Dumornay started running at you with the ball, her feet moving too quick for you to focus on, you knew what you were going to do next had to be purely instinctual. This wasn’t the match for calculated tackles.
It was a fearless tackle. It wasn’t even much of a tackle, actually; you had just gotten to the ground right in her path and made contact with the ball first before she even touched you. When she did touch you, the top of her boot got caught on your abdomen, knocking her over. It was the consequence of her own speed and momentum.
With the ball at your feet, you did what you always did best — kick it as hard as you could and hope it goes well. You must’ve hoped extremely hard or hoped to the right deity, because the ball landed right at Aitana’s feet. Not an inch in front.
With one touch, she had beaten her marker. When Aitana got the ball, it was almost always a goal, and this time was no different; before you could even register that your ball had been kept in play, let alone found a player of your own, it had beaten Endler’s desperate hands and hit the back of the net. The stadium has the loudest atmosphere you’ve ever experienced after Aitana’s goal.
She came running to you, her arms outstretched. You threw yourself into her, hugging her tightly. The rest of the team came shortly after, suffocating you two in a big team hug. You heard some muffled voices praising you and Aitana, but you were too stunned by how quickly it all happened to even register their words. There were many pats on your back and side hugs before the game reset and you were back to your centerback position, kissing the writing on your wrist.
“Aparejo increíble (Y/N), and the pass! Magnífico!” Irene said, pulling you close and ruffling your hair (to which you huffed and slicked it back down) before running back to her position.
You didn’t actually intend to make that pass, so was it that special? Aitana did score from it, but she just has magical feet.
The match had flown by, both teams only separated by one goal at the 90th minute. Lyon were desperate for a goal. Barcelona were desperate for another. Many changes had been made, including Mapi and Pina coming on.
You watched as Diani came down the left wing and somehow managed to beat Lucy and Mapi, which meant you were going to have to try tidy up at the back and not let Diani get to Cata, the last hope.
At first, you just jockeyed. You held her off and tried to delay her, which worked; her stepovers were useless and she couldn’t get past you by tapping and running… but then she did.
She took a touch just wide of you, giving herself heaps of space to dribble up to goal if she was quick enough to retrieve the ball. The big underlying issue was, your jockeying had led you two up to the box. You could either get a card and risk her scoring from a penalty or worse — not do anything and let her put it in. You would rather break your Hay Day login streak than let that happen.
As she lurched forwards to get another touch on the ball, it was like everything was in slow motion. Time slowed down as you extended your leg and thrusted your entire body forwards, cushioning your fall by sliding on your arm across the damp grass and towards the ball. You closed your eyes as she got closer to your face, hoping that if you didn’t see it happen, the collision wouldn’t hurt as much. If this tackle went wrong, it would be over for you, for Barça.
Diani’s opening had been a gift from God himself, so you prepared yourself to see her celebrating happily, the ball rolling into the net when you opened your eyes, but when you finally did open them, the ball wasn’t in the net. Diani wasn’t celebrating.
She was lying on her chest, scrambling to get to her feet. The ball was out, discarded somewhere near the barriers as a ball boy passed a new one to Lucy to throw in. Cheers had rung through the stadium upon your last-ditch tackle, but you had been too distracted to pay attention to them. You had been too focused on trying to execute the perfect tackle that would either make or break the game.
The only thing you guys needed was another goal to really seal the deal. Lyon were getting dangerously close, you needed a goal.
When Lucy had played the ball in, you moved a bit further up the field, watching the play. You noticed Caro receiving the ball, and then you noticed the absence in the middle of the box. You scanned for Aitana or Pina or anybody, but they were all marked by figures like Renard and Carpenter or in other words, brick walls that were not letting them in any time soon.
It was all, pure, instinct. You ran– no, sprinted up the field, flailing your hands in the air. “Caro, Caro!” you screamed, motioning to the middle of the box, begging for a cross.
The cross she delivered from the right wing was set to land just in front of you. You couldn’t reach it for a volley and you sure as hell couldn’t bicycle kick it in. It was travelling fast and getting nearer by the second, but that was the advantage.
Without a second thought, you jumped up. Your body was basically horizontal in the air as you flew forwards, forehead connecting with the ball. It was a shame you couldn’t watch it shoot past Endler, burying itself right in the bottom left corner. You flew into the net as well, and the only way you realised you had scored was when you sat up and looked to your side to see the ball. That’s also the only way you realised you were in the goal.
You had never stood up faster or yelled louder. You zipped past Endler and ran down the field towards the nearest camera. Your first goal of your career couldn’t have been more perfect, so you needed a celebration to match.
Aitana appeared by your side, and as you two ran side-by-side, you pointed to the people in the stands. It was a simple but meaningful celebration; it was the same celebration Vidić had once done, and you remembered it vividly. In fact, it was one of your favourite moments.
You ran to the corner flag where the rest of your team were, and you all fell into another affectionate huddle. Lucy squeezed your side. “You’re in the wrong sport, I think you’d do well as a professional diver!” she jeered, having to yell her words over the noise. You grinned at her and hugged the woman tightly right before being instructed to reset.
The ball had barely started moving again before the referee blew the final whistle. Everyone from the sidelines jumped from their seats and ran onto the field, and the people on the field ram towards your goal. Cata booted the ball into the air and jumped on top of the big hug, and then Pina followed. There was singing and dancing and flags being thrown and tears and hugs for days.
It was happy moment upon happy moment for everyone as it all sunk in — you had finally, finally beat Olympique Lyonnais in a Champions League final for the first time in your history. You had helped beat Lyon and make history with this team, and you had won your first ever Champions League and quadruple, but you had to give credit where it was due.
You knew if you never had a role model like Nemanja Vidić, nothing would’ve happened the way it did for you against Lyon.
Being a 16-year-old girl with such a fiery passion to defend and hold it down at the back wasn’t easy. There wasn’t many defenders that played for the badge the way Vidić did. The reason you loved him so much was because he exerted such an immense sense of pride and dedication to his club, and that was the type of defender you wanted to be.
That was the type of defender you had been today.
You couldn’t believe Keira and Patri when they ran up to you saying that the officials wanted to see you so you could receive the Player of the Match award once again. Your jaw was dropped and you went red as they basically dragged you away from the locker rooms and towards the officials. Your cheeks were still red from embarrassment as you took the photo.
You learned that you couldn’t just slink away into the locker rooms after such a big match, so you spent a solid 10 minutes talking to fans all around the stadium. It was a bit awkward for you at first because most of them were either as old as Alexia or literally your age, but you figured you’d have to get used to it.
The best part about the whole day was, when you eventually got back to the locker room and picked your phone up, you had reached level 300 on Hay Day.
As if one major achievement wasn’t enough.
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strawberryblue-blog · 5 months
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She's mine too —Mason Mount.
summary: annoying days of pregnancy with mason
warning: none. pregnancy, vomiting, discomfort.
words count: +1.5k
#SEXYNOTE: Merry belated Christmas and early happy new year y'all 💌 thanks for the support, i hope you are well. love youuuu 🩵
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You hugged the toilet after spitting up all the dinner of the night between sobs, you sighed taking a big breath of air, feeling your stomach churning again. It was the fifth time you had gotten up to vomit in the night and you were really exhausted. For at least a week you had been feeling this way but in the last two days, it had gotten worse and you couldn't even feed yourself properly as you ended up vomiting.
Did your son or daughter hate you? It was practically thanks to you that he or she was coming into this world, and this is how he or she thanked you? By making you spit out everything you ate? By making you feel so fragile and silly at the same time? You wanted to stay cheerful, positive and full of energy but your baby was slowly consuming you. This was nothing like what you used to hear about pregnancies.
You had never been through anything before and it really scared you. The doctor had said it was normal as long as you had constant checkups and you just had to put up with it, even though it was very hard for you and especially for Mason. Sometimes he felt that what he was doing for you wasn't enough and he hated to see you suffer but it wasn't his fault and it would pass. You sighed whimpering a little, anyone would say you were exaggerating a little (and maybe you were) but you were really suffering. Since four months ago your body had changed, your fears had become constant, dizziness, mood swings, tiredness, breast pain, you had even become irritable. Sometimes you felt guilty but it was inevitable, the baby was running your life (Not really).
But you had no regrets.
Being a mother had been one of your dreams growing up, you used to say you wanted to be like your mother and you really hoped you would be for this child. You were discovering this whole new world and you have to admit you thought it would be something else, at least you had a great man by your side. Mason used to make your endless days, the best experience of your life. He would massage your feet, fulfill your every whim, pamper you and take care of you like you were a princess.
You couldn't complain, you were perfect together and starting a family with him was another one of your biggest dreams. Because you loved everything about him, about the relationship, the respect and love you had. Because you admired how strong and respectable he was and how he behaved with you, your family and friends. Because you were in love with him and that your son had him for a father, it was the biggest pride you could feel.
A hand on your back caressed you, pulling your hair back into a makeshift bun. Mason held your hair and calmed your nerves as he appeared behind you. You hated waking him up in the middle of the night with your retching, especially since you knew he'd have to get up early in the morning but Mason was always with you.
"Don't tease me like that" you laughed exhaustedly after a while. "That's the reason i'm here, puking up everything i ingest."
Mason hid a chuckle behind his smile, trying not to laugh at your funny comment because of the situation you were going through. But it was inevitable, even in misery you were saying funny things to him.
"You suggested doing it, honey. If you had stuck it out, we wouldn't be here," he replied, earning a pout from you.
And it was true. Maybe if they hadn't had too many drinks that night and you hadn't been so horny, nothing would have changed and you wouldn't have found yourself right now. But you wanted this as much as he did, because you were talking about this and about the future, and this was the future, you becoming parents.
After a while without nausea, Mason took you in his arms, slowly carrying you toward the bed. He handed you a glass of water and when you drank some, he helped you lie down on the soft sheets, arranging the pillows on your back to make you comfortable.
"I must look terrible" you whispered a little shaken. Your cheeks were red, your forehead sweaty and you sure looked gross right now. Mason quickly denied.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world" he murmured with his eyes sparkling. "You'll bring our child, you could never look terrible" his fingers caressed your face. A smile appeared on your lips as he kissed your forehead softly.
He took his place beside you, resting his head on your belly as he wrapped his arms around you. One of his hands caressed the protruding bump, which was growing bigger and bigger every day. You didn't know the sex of the baby yet but everything was within the norm for a pregnancy, something you were grateful for, and they were supposed to have news about the baby by the next visit.
"Baby, leave mommy alone for a while, okay? She's mine too" he whispered towards her son or daughter, drawing a smile from you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks. Your chest overflowed with feelings seeing him there and your heart filled with happiness at the image.
Mason on top of his baby, caressing your skin with his warm fingers, his eyes shining in his wonderful gaze. The reason for your happiness in front of you, your whole world. Your eyes filled with tears and you try not to cry but you were sensitive, everything hit you double, more when it was about your son and your boyfriend.
You were both terrified, you weren't going to lie, but since the test had come back positive and after a few months of waiting, you were ready for what was to come. You had learned to love each other, you had each other, you trusted each other and you were walking on the same side. Everything had been easier, since you knew Mason, you were always supporting and loving each other.
"The boys want it to be a boy to teach him to play football but honestly i want it to be a girl" Mason whispered turning back to your chest, still her hand held on the baby, caressing it.
"Is that what you want?" you asked with a giggle. Mason nodded. "Even Summer would take care of her and teach her" you mentioned and your heart fluttered with love as you imagined your boyfriend's niece with your daughter or son.
Mason smiled hugely.
"I want a boy too, of course. But we'll have time to bring him along after the baby girl" he joked with a grimace. You laughed out loud.
You were excited for the arrival of their son or daughter, they were counting the days since they had found out and memories were piling up in their memories of this special time. The wait was going to be hard but it would definitely be worth it when you had him or her with you.
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someonegoood · 2 months
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MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount
part 1, part 2, final part.
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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
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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.
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ladymarycrawley · 8 months
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Forbidden but delightful - Mason Mount
Request: I actually had a imagine request for Mason Mount…where the reader works for him and they’ve always been fond of one another and one day she comes in wearing a guys jumper, it doesn’t fit her properly and it smells like a man. So Mason feels himself becoming jealous, when in reality it’s just her brothers jumper that she ended up wearing because she fell asleep at his babysitting his kids + @anon that asked me sth based on Mase's Nike shooting that got out out in august/september
Warning: none
Tag list: @prideofpd , @johnstonesfc , @chelsealover , @masonxomount , @masterclassbaby
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(gif credits to @bracedes)
A thing Mason promised himself he would have never done in his life was falling in love with someone that worked for him or that simply happened to cross his path for business reasons: he knew it would have been unprofessional but, most of all, he feared he would have ended up as the wronged party.
Another thing he knew deep down his heart was that promises are sometimes meant to be broken and the aforementioned one was one of those.
Since Y/N took on the role of his personal stylist she became the ever so present object of his thoughts as she charmed him since day one, when that shy smile of hers made him blush and ask for more, more moments of him in her company. 
He knew she had something special but didn't know what that was, he only knew it was something that made him feel relaxed, at peace with the world around him. It was as if she held an aura of calmness that was never enough for him as his engaged lifestyle required a lot of it.
Needless to say they got along instantly and, as he was one of the most appreciated footballers on the planet, she soon became one of the most envied women for spending so much time with him. That time they would spend together wasn’t related to fashion matters only but quickly spread to their spare time too: after their work for a magazine, Mason invited her over to his house to celebrate their first job together.
In the meanwhile, on her part, a small sentence he said to her like “I’d like you to always feel at ease when you’re around me, we don’t have to be friends if you don’t want to but I’d like you to be totally yourself” was what made her like him as soon as his brother Lewis introduced him to her. What he expressed was quite an easy concept not to be taken for granted as a lot of famous people would likely treat their employees as servants, making their business life miserable but that wasn't his case.
Everyone loved Mason for being a down to earth guy, a family guy that always had the most beautiful smile painted across his lips and that smile was the second thing that made her weak to her knees: it could light up a dark room faster than artificial light and warm her heart at the same speed.
The second time it was her turn so she asked him to join her in going to a club in the centre of Manchester. It was just the prelude of their game of looks, subtle and unintended touches, sweet words. All of that happened without them even realising it as it felt so spontaneous, so right.
The crucial moment in their professional as well as personal career was when the Red Devils player was asked to feature in the next Nike Underwear campaign as one of their latest posterboys.
“That’s huge, I can't believe it” She kept on saying in disbelief as he was in a delighted mood too. That was probably the biggest job she got until then and they were both buzzing.
“I’m sure all the girlies will love me even more after this shooting” You joked, alluding to the shirtless pictures of Mason that would soon reach every corner of planet Earth through the worldwide coverage they would have had.
He blushed a little and chuckled. “Yep and they’ll probably hate you a little too cause you’re stealing their place”
“Me?? I’m just doing what I’ve been hired for and just got you the biggest shooting to date”
“Yeah but don’t flatter yourself sweetheart”
Sweetheart? Y/N would have never thought of hearing that nickname coming from his mouth and above all, addressed to her. The shade of bright pink that painted her cheeks after that exchange of words, matched her geranium skirt and that combination didn’t go unnoticed to her client who smirked, quite pleased with what his sentence ignited in her.
They both gave each other knowing looks, a look that made Mason’s heart beat faster and Y/N’s legs shake.
The stylist cleared her throat with a fit of coughing before looking at the time on her phone screen, deciding it was time for her to go home before things would have gone out of your hands.
“Are you already going home?”
“Yes, I have erm - a friend over for dinner, yeah” She nodded as if she was trying to convince herself to buy her own lie. 
“Do I know her? Oh wait, is it your best friend?” The Englishman didn’t really care about her guest, he only wanted to spend a couple more minutes with her and make sure she wasn’t seeing any guy he would have to compete with.
“No no, you don’t know her…” She said dismissively, putting her bag on her shoulder.
“Is this mysterious friend a guy you haven’t told me about?” He said, crossing his hands and trying to sound as chilled as possible.
“Please! Not interested in any guy right now” Yeah, in any guy that wasn’t called Mason Mount. “Really have to go now, my house is a mess and she will be there in less than an hour… see you tomorrow, Mount, don’t be late cause we’ll check your Nike’s outfits out!”
“Don’t worry, I won’t…have fun tonight”
“Yep…thanks”
They almost whispered their goodbyes with a hint of sadness and delusion in their voices, as though neither of them wanted to leave each other nor wanted the other one to be left alone but the positions they were in forbid any kind of romantic relationship: it would have been too complicated and too risky.
The very risky thing though was the task she had to undertake the next day: some Nike people met Mason and Y/N at the sportswear brand’s headquarter in London and shared a quick chat to get to know each other better, before skipping to the part where they would explain the shooting they had in mind for Mason to be featured in.
She gulped the moment they showed them the underwear models they could have chosen among.
Y/N’s mind soon got crowded with not safe for work images, as the sight of the Manchester United player’s toned body covered only in a pair of tight boxers, smiling at her began getting more and more vivid.
She shook her head when the Mason in her mind bit on his lower lip and seductively brought his hands to his sides to take off the tiny piece of clothing covering his lower body.
“Are you okay?”
“Me? Oh yes, yes I’m so excited for this you have no idea” She laughed.
The people working with them smiled and left the room to do God’s knew what, leaving her and Mason alone.
He chuckled, lowering himself to her level so that his lips were close to her ear and whispered “Bet you’re more aroused than excited for this job”
You widen your eyes and hit him on the shoulder.
“I’m fully focused on my work, wasn’t thinking about anything vile”
“Even if you’re thinking about it that would be nothing wrong with it…I won’t tell anyone about your secret crush for me”
“Stop it! How old are you? 15??”
Mason giggled and swiftly pecked her cheek. “I love it when you get annoyed at me”
If someone would have seen that scene they would have thought they were a couple, a cute couple but sadly it wasn’t the truth and maybe would have never been…
Y/N arrived at work the day of the Nike shooting some minutes late and she entered the venue out of breath.
“Hi! Sorry everyone, stuck in traffic and it was horrible” She justified herself panting. What she just said was a white lie because she had nothing to do with London’s traffic: the night before her elder brother asked her to babysit his children because he had planned a night out with his wife and forgot to call someone to look after those two rascals that spent all the night shouting and running around the house.
She tried to say no when he asked her that favour, as she had a big day coming on but he said he really needed her help.
So she fell asleep on the sofa, after battling to put her nephews to bed, waking up just in time to go back home in a rush, begging her brother to give her a lift, and put on some knee-high boots that would have complimented that oversized grey jumper she borrowed from him to fight the coldness of the night.
Mason raised his eyebrows when he saw her, recognising immediately what she was wearing was a man’s jumper.
She styled it as if it was a dress and she looked so hot in his eyes but couldn’t stop thinking she must have spent the night with some man, that’s the reason why she was late.
The shooting went as planned: Mason looked genuinely flawless and sexy in that underwear, smiling at the camera and she kept on biting her lips as she couldn’t help thirsting over him as he looked nothing but hot ... that infatuation for him would have been the death of her.
She thanked that one person that asked for a little break because she needed a giant cup of coffee and some fresh air.
“You look good” Those were the first words she said to Mason that day.
“You too”
“No way, I look hideous as I’ve barely slept and arrived late on what’s the most important day in my career” She blurted annoyed at that, something unforgivable from her point of view.
The footballer started biting on his nails as he was clearly nervous and maybe needed some fresh air as well as she did.
“This…” The strong smell that tickled his nostrils interrupted him “...this smell, where does it come from?”
“Oh I think it’s my jumper” Y/N admitted shyly, referring to the garment that looked huge on her.
What Mason noticed made her blush, as if he caught her red-handed while doing something inappropriate and he glanced at her sideways, as if that inappropriate thing she did disappointed him somehow.
“It still smells like him...” She said under her breath but he still heard her and couldn’t help but widen his eyes in shock: in his head they’re perfect together, smiling and laughing every day, even subtly flirting so he thought she was single and he could go on courting her but now she’s wearing another man’s clothes? The poor man was confused to say the least.
“You told me you weren’t interested in any man…”
“And I’m not”
He raised his head and smiled quite relieved with the real explanation behind all of that.
“So why are you wearing another man’s jumper?”
“Oh god Mase, are you jealous?? This is my brother’s. He asked me to babysit his kids last night and took this because I was cold and in a rush so it was literally the first decent thing I’ve found”
“Oh well…I was ready to mock you for your walk of shame actually”
“No dear, you’re dying for me to tell you I haven't slept with anyone last night and now you’re joking only because you didn’t get angry” You giggled, offering him a cup of hot coffee.
“Can I take you out tonight?”
“Mason I- I don’t think that’d be a good idea, I mean we’re working together”
“I know that but I’ll do my best to keep things separated, I promise” He gave you puppy eyes, making you giggle.
“If you wanna try…”
“You don’t wanna try?”
Of course she wanted to, she'd been dying too…and she'd been dying to know what his lips tasted of too: she quickly glanced around to make sure all the people involved in the shooting were still out and unexpectedly kissed him, the coffee flavour on his lips mixing with her nude lipstick.
“Now go on posing, nothing happened!”
Nothing could swipe Mason’s smirk off his face as he brushed his thumb over his lips that now tasted like her.
“Yeah...nothing happened”
Mixing work and private life wasn’t something they were willing to do but sometimes breaking the rules has that forbidden charm that brings to one’s soul the highest of delights and that’s a risk worth taking.
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brasiliangp · 2 months
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Manchester United vs Bournemouth
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babygirlbenji · 24 days
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Prince Charming - Mason Mount
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a/n i feel like i've used this gif before but i do not care! i'm off to a wedding so wanted to get this out! enjoy mwah <3
summary: just some fluff with mason and reader who is sick!
You hated being sick. 
The cough that had been racking your body for the last few days had reduced you to talking in croaky whispers, your whole body ached, you had no energy and all you could do if you weren’t sleeping was watching repeats of Friends. 
What made it even worse was that Mason wasn’t there to look after you and give you the love you so desperately needed to heal. He was in Manchester and you were stuck in London. To add insult to injury, you had planned to take the train up to the north west to see him and watch his game against Liverpool. You’d had to message him the day before, saying you weren’t going to be able to come up. He wanted nothing more than to look after his girl, but Ten Hag had been adamant that Mason would at least be on the bench for the game, if not in the starting lineup. 
It was just an all round bad situation. A long distance relationship was not necessarily what you signed up for, but you loved Mason more than anything in the world. You were both determined to make it work. 
On Friday night, you were tapping through your Instagram stories, looking at all your friends going out and celebrating the end of the working week. You sighed, which obviously turned into a coughing fit. With nothing else to do, you turned off the lights and curled up in bed, hoping that by morning, you would feel better and be able to watch Mason play. 
Or at least that was your plan. This plan was scuppered by your phone lighting up with Mason’s picture as he rang for a FaceTime. You shoved a hoodie on and ran your fingers through your hair in the hopes it would make you a little bit more presentable, before flicking the lamp by your bed on so you could speak to him. 
‘H-Hello,’ you croaked. His face was slightly pixelated through the dodgy WiFi in the hotel he was staying in, but he still managed to look like he’d walked off a Vogue shoot. Damn him, you thought to yourself. 
‘Hey sweet thing, how are you doing?’ Just the sound of his voice was enough to perk you up a bit, and you sat up. 
‘I’m… I’m okay, just tired and got this stupid bloody cold that’s had me bed bound the last two days. How are you?’ You could barely stifle the yawn that crept out of your mouth without any warning. 
‘Oh darling, I’m okay, just called because I’m worried about you, I’ve hardly heard from you the last couple of days and wanted to check in.’ Your heart swelled. You’d been together over two years, but he was still finding ways to make your dreams come true. He really was your Prince Charming. ‘I won’t keep you long as I know you’re sick, just wanted to say I love you and I miss you.’ 
The emotions you’d been feeling over the last couple of days boiled over, and your face crumpled as tears leaked from your eyes. 
‘I really, really miss you, Mase,’ you sobbed. ‘I feel awful, I can’t do any work, I haven’t seen you in like a fortnight, everyone’s going out and enjoying the sun while I’m stuck here on my own with not even Ben or Reece to keep me company as they’re in Timbuktu or something.’ Mason couldn’t help but chuckle at your melodramatics; Ben and Reece were not in Timbuktu, they were in fact in Southampton for their away game. He didn’t have the heart to mention this, though. 
‘I’m sorry, baby, I really am, I wish I could be there to help. Just focus on resting and getting better, okay? I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve finished this game, I promise.’ You sighed. You knew he couldn’t help being a professional footballer, and he loved playing with United, but you couldn’t help but feel like part of your soul went wherever he went. 
You chatted a bit more, or rather, he chatted while you listened to him, before he bade you goodnight and you were once again left with nothing but the sound of your fan blowing cool air on you to stop your fever spiking too high. It wasn’t long before your cold and cough medication kicked in, and you were out like a light. 
*
You awoke the next morning feeling like there was someone in your house. Ignoring the fact that your fever had gone and your airways felt clearer than they had in the last few days, you stepped out of bed and grabbed your phone from the bedside table. Fully prepared to call the police, you padded silently down the carpeted staircase and peeked into the kitchen. 
What you saw made another sob fall out of your mouth.
Mason was stood by the stove, wearing a United hoodie and track pants, while stirring something in a pot on the hob which you could only guess to be chicken soup. 
‘Mase?!’ He whirled around and grinned.
‘Hey babe!’ You summoned the energy to run over to him and throw your arms around his neck, relishing the contact of your bodies having been apart for nearly two weeks. 
‘What the hell are you doing here? I thought they wanted you to play?’ He kissed your temple and shrugged.
‘But I wanted to be here with you more. It wasn’t easy but I managed to negotiate it off. After our FaceTime last night I couldn’t be apart from you any longer. I couldn’t have you suffering here by yourself while Ben and Reece are in Timbuktu.’ You giggled at the reference to what you’d said the previous night, and hugged him harder, your head finding its usual spot just under his neck. He wrapped you up in his arms and rubbed your back. 
‘I can’t thank you enough, Masey, it means the world.’ You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.
‘It’s the least I can do for my princess.’ And in that moment, with you curled up against his chest while he stirred chunks of chicken and vegetables in a thick broth, breathing in his glorious scent that could only the scent of home, you had absolutely no doubt in your mind that you really had found your Prince Charming. 
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rashfordxbruno · 2 months
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The floor is yours, Barcelona and Man City.
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melanieph321 · 8 days
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I did write a similar piece after man city got knocked out of Champions league. (Link below)
Could do something different? How about you being a United fan. You lost last years fa cup and he made fun of you. Revenge type ting 😂
NOW THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!! 🙌🔥
Ruben Dias x Reader - Sweet Revenge
+18
* minors get tf out!
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Enjoy!
Who knew that Ruben was a sore loser? What a discovery, you thought. Despite Man City's triumph I the Prmeier League, he couldn't quite get over their lost to United in the FA Cup. You'd wake up at night hearing him mutter in his sleep. "At Wembley...Can't believe that they got us at Wembley..."
Eventually, Ruben would roll over and go back to bed, but as his girlfriend, his behavior was a tad concerning. However....as a United fan, what a glorious time to be alive.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
You joined Ruben in the living room. It's where he spent most of his current days post-season, in front of the TV, contemplating his life decisions.
"What?" He hissed, eyeing you like you had just insulted his entire family. Just your presence would spite him these days, knowing damn well that his girlfriend was a Man United fan. If he wasn't madly in love with you, he would have shown you the door right after the Cup final.
"I dunno?" You shrugged. "Losing for once? It hurts, doesn't it?"
"You're having a laugh about it, aren't you? You and your United friends."
"Hey, all I'm saying is that all is fair in love and football."
"All is fair, huh?"
"Yes." You grinned.
"Are you willing to put your words where your mouth is."
"Erm...pardon?" Your eyes widened as Ruben stood from the couch, draping his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
"Ruben, what are you...."
"City lost, Man United won." He stated. "We had a bet."
"So?"
"So? Wasn't the bet that the winner gets a wish?"
You smiled. "And you really believe that my wish would be for you to fuck me?"
"What was it then?"
Your smile widened, realizing your power. Ruben was really annoyed, wanting for the subject to be dropped as soon as possible so that he could move on with his life and the game. However, you had another plan in mind.
"You've got to be kidding me?" Ruben said after you left the living room only to return with your favorite Manchester United Jersey.
"Unfortunately, not baby, you made me do it last year, I'm making you do it now."
"But I can't wear that. It won't fit me."
You admit that the jersey would be a bit tight on him, considering that it was almost your size. However, it would add to the sweet revenge.
"It's not my fault your team lost. A bet is a bet baby, suit up."
You didn't know what was funnier. Walking hand in hand into your favorite sports bar with Ruben wearing your United jersey, or the fact that the number behind it was the number five, "Maguire." All you know is that it was a torture for Ruben being forced to celebrate with your friends who were all United fans. A torture for him and hilarious for you.
"What. A. Shit. Night." Ruben said, quick to tugg off your shirt once you returned to the apartment.
"Ah, ah, Ruby. Not so fast."
"What do you mean? I did the bet. Now the bet is over."
"You did half the bet. Remember last year?"
He frowned. "What happened last year?"
"Don't make me spell it out for you." You said, hands on your hips. Nevertheless, Ruben looked lost. You had to help him out.
"What did you make me do once we got back from the bar of your choice last year?"
The dent between his brow grew deeper.
"Sex Ruben, we had sex."
His expression mellowed. "Y/N, I never made you have sex with me."
"Not sex, no. I wanted that."
His sigh of relief made you smile.
"What then, what did I make you..." It all came to him in a flash. A terrible flash, once he realized what it meant for him. "No." He shook his head. "Y/N, please, no."
"Oh, yes." You approached him slowly.
Ruben backed away. "Not with the shirt on. Please don't make me wear the shirt during."
You grabbed its collar, pulling him down for a kiss. "I'm sorry, Ruben, a bet is a bet."
You back him up until he slumped down on the couch. You stepped out of your shorts and got on top of him, bending down to kiss him.
"Y/N, please..." He moaned, enjoying the sensation of your lips tracing down his neck. "I'm not gonna be able to...."
"What?" You moved on to kiss his lips, making it harder for him to speak as his hands were on your hips, slowing down your grinding against his cock.
"Y/N." Ruben put a hand to your chest, preventing any more kisses. He looked serious.
"What?" You giggled.
"I won't be able to get hard wearing this shirt. Not with another man's name on my back."
"Wanna bet?"
"I'm serious Y/N, nothing is gonna work unless I take it off."
"Right."
You slid down Ruben's body, centering yourself over his shorts. You draped them down along with his underwear, revealing his slack penis.
"See." Ruben said, popping himself up on his elbows, looking down at his unresponsive dick.
"He just needs a little love." You said, bending down to kiss the tip of it. There was some movement as you did, giving you hope for the future.
"He?" Ruben said.
You looked up to catch his smile.
"You called my penis a he?"
"Is he not?"
"It's not right to assume once gender you know."
You rolled your eyes.
"Yes, I guess my dick is a he."
You inspected it curiously. It was usually alive and well during other times you would meet. Seeing it so small, so sad, was upsetting yet fascinating at the same time.
"I think he needs a name."
"Yeah?"
You nodded. "Something suiting and aspiring."
"How about Roberto?"
"No, that an old man's name."
"Okay, what about..."
"Maguire!"
Ruben's eyes widened in terror.
"That's it, let's name him Maguire. It's very suitable."
"You're out of your mind. I'm not naming my dick after another player, especially not Harry Maguire."
You laughed, watching Ruben's face turn bright red.
"And another thing...."
You yelped as he pushed you off him only to roll over and lay on top of you. "I refuse to fuck my girlfriend wearing a United shirt." He pulled it off of him, tossing it over you heads.
"Well, I guess that means you're not fucking me at all."
"Not so fast."
You made the gesture to rise from the couch. However, Ruben's weight managed to pin you down, his voice deep in your ear. "Are you just gonna leave me like this, rock hard and lonely?"
You gasped, feeling how he suddenly came to life, his erection poking you in the stomach.
"Ruben, I'm not..."
"Yes or no, Y/N...." He whispered against your skin, pressing his soft lips against your naked collarbone bone. "Either you fuck me or you don't, the choice is yours."
"I hate you." You muttered.
He chuckled and resumed to undress you, draping your shirt over your head to reveal your swollen breasts. Ruben took one in his mouth like man deprived of food, sucking on them to a point when they became sore and sensitive to all touch.
It was a sweet revenge while it lasted. At least you had that. Perhaps the plan would have been more effective if you weren't so damn in love.
The End.
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thewales-family · 10 days
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The Prince of Wales, President of the Football Association, and Prince George of Wales attend the Emirates FA Cup Final match between Manchester City and Manchester United, at Wembley Stadium in London, England -May 25th 2024.
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pacifierbby · 7 months
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~ POV
walking around London
a/n~ sorry lovely I'm off work now for 9 days so I'll be updating my stories abit more obviously the nanny still on going don't worry. I've just get ideas and jot them down before they go
tag list ~ here
warnings ~ masons being cute and fluffy kissing and hugging
pairing ~ mason x you
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you and Mase will be constantly holding hands walking around London
Mason will be constantly dragging you into every shoe shop possible making you buy the same shoes so you can be twinning obviously it will be ether high top converse or low in any colour
you be showing mason every makeup and facial skin cares. which mason ask if he can do some home with you. you also show mason different face masks.
Mason would want to dry different food every time you guys go out so when you walk around London mason notices a new Italian restaurant opened he drags you inside which you both try the pizzas and the starters.
side glances when masons looking away.
quick kisses when ever you guys are alone because PDA wasn't your thing and masons knows this
going to every sight seeing view
when it starts getting dark you go on the London eye. and seeing London in the dark on the top will always be your favorite
saying i love yous
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b14augrana · 2 days
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‘Scrubber’
The aftermath of a Champions League final masterclass
Barça Femení x teen!reader
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pt. 4 masterlist
Warnings: cuteness 💝💝💝 you guys know the status on that proofreading.
A/N: i was going to use catalan translation for majority of the spanish dialogue but the translator was not cooperating which sucks 🫤 sighhhh
i hope y’all missed her because the mighty brick wall of barcelona is back and better 💪🏼
our estrella, buenaza, spain minister of defense, pequeñita, nenita, bebita, chiquita, whatever you wanna call her, shes the team’s pride and joy 😚
Everyone was talking about the final for weeks. When you got back to Barcelona, it was like the entirety of Cataluña had watched it.
Even while you were walking with Irene to Mapi’s apartment, you got stopped on the street multiple times by Barcelona natives, praising your defensive performance. You thanked them of course, but you were still not used to the attention. If you weren’t used to this, you couldn’t imagine how Aitana felt.
“Will it always be like this?” you asked Irene, and she put an arm around your shoulder as you two walked. “Sí, but you’ll get used to it,” she replied.
The club had given the players a day to recover from the plane ride and relax before you started to celebrate the win. You and Irene slept over at Mapi’s apartment and then you all went back to the club facilities together to board the bus.
While you were in Bilbao doing the lap and talking to fans, you got handed a huge Boixos Nois flag, which you took without hesitation. It was surprisingly easy to get it onto the plane and when you landed in Barcelona, you stashed it (along with a few other things) in the locker room. That’s what you so urgently needed to grab when you ran into the facility, almost missing the bus as you ran back to it with the flag beneath your arm and your waistband loaded with other festive accessories... plus the scarf tied around your head.
"Buenaza, you have enough stuff?" Mapi asked, laughing at the flag and bulkiness beneath your shirt.
"Yeah, I think. Is it not enough?" you replied, and Mapi shook her head. "Don't worry, it's enough."
The bus jolted forward as it started to move, almost making you fall over. "(Y/N)!" Aitana said, beckoning you over to her.
You loved Aitana. At first, you were a little bit intimidated by her because of how incredible she is as a player. Normally when someone is that good, there is some sort of unspoken skill hierarchy that you feel separates you two, but Aitana was different. She wasn't like a mum to you — that role belonged to Fridolina — but instead she was like a big sister. Everyone on the team was like your big sister though. Aitana just happened to be one of your favourites.
"Sit down," she urged you, basically pulling you onto the spot beside her. She too had a scarf tied around her head, which you pointed out and said, "We're matching!"
"What's under your shirt?" Aitana asked, pointing at the lumps. "Oh, just some stuff. You can have a few if you want," you replied, lifting your shirt slightly to reveal the rather large blaugrana-coloured party poppers and streamers shoved into the waistband of your pants.
Aitana laughed and took a couple party poppers and a roll of streamers, "Gracías!"
You felt the bus turn, and that's when a question came to mind. "What do we do after the parade?"
"We're going to the Plaça Sant Jaume," Aitana replied, "But let's worry about that later. Look!" She stood up and looked over the railing, and you did the same.
Below you were what looked like thousands of people dressed in blue and red, waving flags and scarves and whatever else. You could hear music being performed live, and you saw confetti and red and blue smoke.
"Mierda..." you whispered, taking it all in. You saw a sign in the crowd; '(Y/N) (Y/L/N), EL MINISTRO DE DEFENSA ESPAÑA'. You took a minute to translate it in your head and when it clicked to you, a wide grin appeared on your face.
Aitana shook you and held up her party poppers, signalling you to do the same. When you got them out, you two held them off the side of the bus and after Aitana counted down from 3, you both pulled them, sending a stream of red and blue confetti down to the people on the street below.
“Aitana, (Y/N)!” Alexia yelled from the other side of the bus, waving you two over. You walked over to her, making sure to grab your flag.
“What’s going on?” you asked, and she pointed to the camera. “Team photo! You’re in the front, since you’re la estrella de la temporada,” Alexia said, thrusting you downwards to sit in front of everyone else. You looked at her stunned, about to object and say you’d rather stand, but then the cameraman told you to look towards the camera and smile. You grumbled under your breath but obliged, and you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You looked up to see that they belonged to Alexia, who was smiling at you proudly.
“Nuestra estrella es la millor!” Aitana yelled, jumping at the back and blowing the last of her party poppers just as the cameraman took the photo.
You flushed red. You felt so appreciated, not only by your teammates but by the fans too. When you joined the team, you were also concerned about being taken in by the fans. The girls always said that without their support they’d be nothing, so they were extremely important to you. Seeing them wear your jersey, hearing their cheers for you, feeling their love whenever you walked into the stadium, it all meant the world to you.
“Okay, photo’s done. Let’s celebrate!” Patri yelled, and everyone agreed. You shot to your feet, grabbing your flag and running to the back of the bus. You held it by the end of the pole, waving the large flag over the railing. Aitana and Patri joined you, flinging the rest of the streamers off the back of the buss and collecting confetti from the ground to sprinkle on the crowd and in each other’s hair.
Mapi ran up to you three and starting jumping up and down, waving her flag. “Una bandera ens agermanaaaa!” she sung, grinning as she waved her bandera proudly.
The bus eventually stopped outside the city hall and you all filed off. The city hall’s architecture was classical, and you liked it very much. You didn’t immediately go inside though; you spent a good 10 minutes personally talking to fans down below, and you also took some photos and other media for the club Instagram page. You enjoyed interacting with the fans, and you were slowly warming up to the idea of it.
You admired the building as you walked inside, and you were led up the stairs and to the balcony which overlooked many more fans. A microphone was passed around between each player, giving them the chance to speak to the fans.
The girls took turns greeting the fans. Alexia croaked out a “Visca el Barça” and Frido could barely say “Hola” with her voice being so gone. Lucy spoke Catalan for the first time in forever, per Ona’s request, and then the microphone ended up with you.
“Hola,” you started off, not really sure what to say. Mapi leaned towards the mic and said, “Si no te das cuenta, está muy nerviosa,” laughing mischievously as you yanked the mic away from her.
“¡No la escuches! Todo lo que tengo que decir es que Barcelona es el mejor club del mundo!” you said into the mic, your voice cracking. You hadn’t even realised you lost your voice up until then, but you laughed it off nervously, just wanting to give the mic away. “Visca Barça y visca Cataluña!”
You hurriedly passed the mic to Mapi, breathing a sigh of relief once it was out of your grasp. You weren’t the best at speaking to such a huge crowd yet, but you could’ve done worse.
Just then, you remembered that the Euros and Olympics were only a few months away. You knew how much talking and interviews that entailed, which wasn’t really up your lane. Like you told yourself before, this lifestyle would take some getting used to.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you raise an eyebrow. You fished around for it and when you eventually pulled it out, your eyes widened in alarm. ‘Hurry! Your 813 day streak is about to end! Log in to Hay Day claim your rewards’ flashed across your screen, and you had never slapped in your password faster. On top of everything, how could you forget?
“Finally logging in?” Ale asked, and you nodded. “I thought something was seriously wrong with you when I didn’t see you checking up on Bagheera Land,” she continued. That wasn’t meant to be the name of your town, but Mapi had gotten into your phone one day, changed the name of it, and you had never changed it back.
“Come on, we’re going back to headquarters and then you have to start packing so we can leave,” she said, and you put your phone back in your pocket as you walked down the stairs of the city hall.
You had received your call up to the Spain national team not very long ago. At first you were hesitant to accept because of the movement against the Spanish football federation, and you confided in Mapi about it, telling her you wanted to protest against the federation with her, but she had convinced you to take the opportunity. She said it would help you grow closer to your Barcelona teammates and also meet the other Spain internationals, plus develop as a player. You were still hesitant, but you listened.
Then you learnt that the upcoming matches were Euro qualifiers and the matches after that would be Olympic games. That terrified you. To Aitana you were always ‘Pequeñita’, to Irene you were ‘Nenita’ and to Mapi you were ‘Bebita’ — you were basically a baby, you couldn’t play in such big tournaments!
You poured all of these feelings out to Alexia on the bus ride back to headquarters. At the end of your rant, she put her hand on your shoulder and looked at you intently. “Chiquita, you played in the final of the biggest European club competition and ended up being the player of the match. Without you, we wouldn’t have won that! You can play in the Olympics and the Euros, I believe in you.”
She wrapped her arms around you in a reassuring hug which you gratefully accepted, hugging her back tightly. “Thank you. I feel a little bit better about it now,” you giggled.
“Now, when we get back to headquarters, grab your stuff from your cubby and make sure you pack tonight. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow from Irene’s and if you’re not fully packed…”
“I will be, I promise,” you answered. “Can I take my Vidić jersey?”
“Chiquita, we’re only playing two matches. You’ll be reunited with your beloved jersey in no time,” Ale said. That wasn’t enough reassurance for you, and you looked at her with pleading eyes. The woman grumbled and shook her head, fighting back a smile. “Fine, I guess you can bring it.”
“You’re the best, Ale!”
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strawberryblue-blog · 10 months
Text
Baby blue love —Mason Mount
warning: none
words: +2.5k
summary: being there for Mason at his most difficult time
#sexynote: English is not my first language, maybe there are mistakes.
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An exhausted sigh escaped the young man's lips as you walked through the house carrying the laundry basket. From behind you saw his defeated back as his hands covered his face in disappointment.
"Is everything okay?" you asked putting the clothes in the washing machine. Mason sighed again.
"Mason" you called out to him when he didn't respond. From his spot, Mason turned his face slightly to look at you.
His eyes were glazed over and his smile drooped.
He had been like this for a few days, depressed and sad about his departure from the club. But even though you tried to cheer him up, Mason ended up ignoring you and regretting his decisions.
"Mason..." you repeated again as you sat down next to him, your hand stroking his back gently.
"Everyone hates me" he whispered in anguish.
In front of his eyes was his instagram profile, precisely the last video he had posted only a day ago.
"It's not true" you denied waving your hand to comfort him.
"Yes they do, just watch what they say" he noted. A gasp came out of his mouth, he was frustrated, sad and disappointed. "Not even the official confirmation came out and everyone already knows, they hate me."
Yes, it was hard what he was going through and you understood it perfectly.
At least a month ago the rumor that Mason would be leaving Chelsea had been much talked about by fans of the club or those close to it, especially because there was a supposed proposal from Manchester United.
After 18 years at the club of his beginnings, Mason Mount would no longer be a player in blue and it was driving him crazy.
"Stop that" you grumbled when he kept scrolling down the publication, taking his phone out of his hands to turn it off. Your boyfriend snorted stretching his body out on the couch.
Raw silence broached them. Mason wasn't saying a word from that point on and you were leaving him, as you didn't want to pressure him to talk let alone make him feel like he had to explain himself.
"You hate me, don't you?" he asked dejectedly. The question caught you off guard for a moment.
"No," you muttered. "Why would I, Mason?"
"Because I ruined everything."
"That's not true," you denied. You knew perfectly well what this conversation was coming to and you were ready to face it. "For wanting to move on?" you asked. "For wanting to have another chance?"
He lifted his shoulders expressionlessly. You weren't going to lie, the news that Mason would be leaving had affected you more than you thought it would. You had always been a Chelsea fan, thanks to your father, a huge Blues fan. And on one of your many visits to the stadium, you had met Mason at Stamford Bridge when you had volunteered to work one afternoon. The thought of not going to support him at the stadium anymore, not seeing him celebrate with his teammates and family, seeing him ready to play before every game. Nostalgia ran through your mind as you thought of him and wanted to support him every step of the way.
"It's okay, honey" you took him in your arms. Mason sobbed as he felt your warm embrace. "You haven't done anything wrong" you said.
"I've been an idiot these days, I don't understand how you're still here" he said. You could feel the pain in his body, in his voice, in his eyes, in his mood.
Mason had always been a laughing boy, who laughed at everything and cheered everyone up in the worst moments but now he was a kid who had to make an important decision that would be a big step for his career. For his future. And of course you would accompany him, you would be by his side no matter what his decision was.
"Do you think it's okay what I'm doing?" he questioned taking your hands. You had not had this conversation since it had all started, as Mason was a bit shocked and somewhat distant.
"It is. It's the right thing to do because you deserve it" you muttered. "You deserve a team that will take advantage of your talent, respect you and help you grow. You deserve to play in the big leagues and succeed" you said sincerely.
And it hurt. It hurt to see your great love leave his lifelong team, the team that saw him grow and succeed. It hurt to know that he would no longer wear the blue jersey and that you would not go to the game with his jersey to cheer him on. But more than anyone else in the world you wanted Mason to move on and succeed because you knew he was a great player. Young and talented.
His hands grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him to place a soft kiss on your lips. Mason wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you to his chest.
He knew how much you supported him no matter what. Even though he was going to the opposing team or moving out of town. Because you had always supported him since you had known each other, in his bad times and good times, when he needed you and when you were there for him.
"I don't know what I'd do without you, baby" he whispered nuzzling his nose with yours tenderly.
"I love you, Mason."
"Enough to wear a red t-shirt with my name on it?" he asked teasingly.
"No!" you squealed laughing. "You know i hate the color red."
Mason laughed nodding.
"But you don't hate it when I'm wearing it, do you?" he teased again with an amused expression. His lips touched yours delicately as a gasp escaped them as you felt Mason's hands take you from your waist until you sat on his lap.
"Nothing will ever change the love I feel for you, ever since the day I saw you in the rain at Stamford Bridge" he whispered through his smile. "From that day I knew I would love you forever, my baby blue love."
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I'm late i know but I'm still not over Mason being gone 😭😭 I miss him so much 💔
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masonmontz · 1 month
Text
🪐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍
heey, this is my first instagram au and the first thing that i wrote about mason mount haha xx english is not my first language, so be nice to me :(( hope you like it xxx (and if you want, you are free to correct me on any errors in writing)
masonmount
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liked by declanrice, benchiwell and 326,578 others
masonmount hot days in greece 🇬🇷
declanrice nice bro, hope you enjoy it
↳ masonmount sure I am 🫣
jazbenham love it!!! miss you mase
↳ masonmount i’ll be home in a few days ☺️
masonfan19 i want so bad to be the woman with him 😩
↳ masonfc WHATT girl come here, what woman?
↳ mountfc19 heard that he is with a famous actress this summer
↳ masonfan19 i’m so jealousssss
yourusername
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liked by annehathaway, masonmount, violadavis and 876,954 others
yourusername how can it be the most beautiful place in the world? don’t wanna leave 😩
amandaseyfried I told you Greece was the best place ever
↳ yourusername maybe i’ll move here
emmastone beautiful pics 😍 can’t wait for our next travel
↳ yourusername i’m so excited 😎
yourfan1 WAIT is she the woman traveling with mason mount? he liked it
↳ fan2 i was thinking that right now…
↳ masonfan2 we don’t have any pics 😞 but what a beautiful couple if is true
↳ masonfc3 i’m so jealous i have to unfollow her right now
masonfan5 MASON LIKED everybody stay calm
↳ yourfan2 heard they are good friends, maybe she’s not the woman traveling with him
↳ chiwellfan3 we are trying not to see what is in front of us 😞
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yourusername
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liked by masonmount, margotrobbie and 983,678 others
yourusername i am the luckiest and happiest woman, love u so much @/masonmount
masonmount i love you so much ❤️
masonmount i am so lucky to have a woman like you by my side
masonfc2 I KNEW IT!!! fav couple
↳ masonfan1 am i allowed to cry?
yournamefan they are so good togetherrr
fan3 happy for both :))
↳ masefan4 ik, like she is a hollywood star and he is a great football player, they are gonna rattle the stars
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ladymarycrawley · 9 months
Text
Wet celebration - Mason Mount
Not requested but I was struck by the inspiration, after a long time, to write sth for our star boy so enjoy 💫
Warning: smutty, very smutty (and I said to myself it shouldn't have been lmao)
Tag list: @prideofpd, @chelsealover, @johnstonesfc, @masterclassbaby, @masonxomount
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Mason going back to training after having missed some of the first games of the season together with the England camp was definitely something worthy of being celebrated.
Before he could go back you had in mind to have your intimate party which consisted of a candle lit bubble bath and champagne glasses to have a toast.
Everything had to be ready for when he came back home after his last session at the physio, the one that would have officially sealed his coming back on the pitch.
You were waiting for him kind of impatiently, both to have him all to yourself (romantically speaking) and to hear the good news of him getting the green light to go back doing the thing he loved the most.
He entered your shared house with the biggest grin ever, his trademark, and with his arms wide open.
“Guess who can go back to playing football?”
“Mhh let me guess…” You accepted playing his game, assuming a fake thoughtful expression as you walked towards him, between his arms. "Is that you?"
He nodded gloatingly, securing his grip around your body.
“I can go back playing” He hummed, sounding like a happy boy who just finished his homeworks and can go having fun.
“I knew it, I’m so proud of you” You whispered while cupping his perfect face in your hands. “And you deserve a reward”
Mason lifted his eyebrows in an enquiring look, waiting to have some explanations.
You smiled and took his hand in yours to lead him upstairs, where your romantic surprise was waiting for you.
When you stopped at the entrance of your big bathroom he saw the shadow of candlelights and smiled knowingly, walking in to look at the tub brimming with soap bubbles, the two glasses of champagne and the massaging oil on the ceramic surface waiting for you.
He wiggled his eyebrows and started unzipping his hoodie to throw it mercilessly on the floor.
“We need to hurry before the water cools down” His voice assumed an husky tone, the one he would usually get when lust was making its way inside his body and also the one that would make you wet.
You followed his advice by slowly discarding all the clothes that were covering your body, letting them fall on the floor. The only thing that didn’t leave your body was your powerful eye contact: you couldn’t look away from each other, you were a feast for each other’s eyes.
When you were both naked Mason offered his hand to help you step inside the tub as you thanked him silently with a smile.
You sat there, waiting for him to join you and to adopt your favourite posture which was laying your back against his chest and letting him do everything he had in mind to do to your body.
Before relaxing against his toned chest you stretched out your right arm to grab the two glasses and handed him his.
“What are we drinking to?”
 “To you being back at training and to me being always proud of you”
Mason smirked and raised his glass.
“I’d also like to drink to my gorgeous girlfriend who had this great idea…been missing some good bath tub sex”
“Mase!” You turned crimson as you nonchalantly sipped your wine.
“Oh come on, I know you’re no angel and your aim has always been this, since the beginning that little mind of yours started thinking about all of this”
You rolled your eyes and drank up the liquid in your glass, leaving some at the bottom of it to dip your index finger in and bring it closer to your boyfriend’s lips. He smirked as he didn’t doubt not even for a second about what was your plan for the night and swirled his tongue around your finger before sucking it. You had far better things to do than going on having some good wine, so you skipped to the main course.
A mischievous smirk appeared on your lips to match the one plastered on Mason’s face.
He took in your naked body, soaking your breast with some lazy strokes that gave him the chance to finally touch you. His thumb rubbed your nipple gently, soon adding the tip of his tongue to it.
Some sweet but forbidden cuddles were the things you missed the most during these days of pain and you weren’t the only one needing them so you moved your hand across his abdomen to place it in the tip of his dick coming out of water. The look you gave to it was obviously a luxurious one, you couldn’t wait to taste it.
You started by brushing your thumb pad left and right, adding a light pressure to it.
Mason sat on the step your bath tub had so you could give him his reward more easily.
The sight of his big cock twitching made you even more eager to have it so you moved closer, placing your palms on his inner thighs to let your mouth do the work you both were looking forward to: you spit on his member to make the movement of your lips smoother. Relaxed, cute moans started filling the room as he placed his hand in your tied up hair to spur you on.
“Oh good god..”
His eyes were closed and his head back against the wall: you succeeded in making him relax but you didn’t want him to get too relaxed as you needed something too, for being a good supportive girlfriend. When his precum started touching your lips you stopped, giving him doe eyes.
He opened his eyes and when he saw the way you were looking at him, knelt down in front of him all needy, he lost it: he needed to have you right there and then.
Mason’s brown eyes got covered in lust as he got back in the water and placed his hands on your hips to lift you on the step where he was sitting earlier.
He spread your legs open so he could start devouring your pussy as if his life depended on it. His tongue sucked, his teeth nibbled at your lips and his lips left small kisses all around: it was perfect.
“Oh yes Mase…I missed you” You whined, pushing your hips against his mouth. 
He let out a satisfied moan as he was pleased to give you such a good time. His tongue stopped licking your skin the moment he shifted it inside of you.
"Yes baby yes…fuck me”
The way he ate you out was about to give you your first orgasm but he did the same you did to him: as soon as he felt your juices down his chin he stopped and broke away.
“Mase -”
Mason lifted his weight on his arms to reach your height and whisper a little something to your lips.
“What goes around comes around”
He was too much to take: he was there making fun of you, looking hotter than ever and driving you crazy by being a tease.
Mason sat back in the tub as you straddled him, tangling your arms around his neck and bending your knees so that your feet were resting near his bottom. 
“You’re being a tease, that’s not fair” You cooed in his ear, biting on his earlobe in a playful yet horny.
“You’ve been a tease too and it was a pity I had to stop cause your cum tasted so good…”
A louder desperate groan left your lips, made it even more desperate by the feeling of his fingers dangerously close to your pussy.
The way he was there, looking irresistible, urged you to kiss him feverishly, a messy kiss that left nothing to the imagination.
During your open mothed kiss, Mason pressed his thumb on your clitoris, making you roll your eyes at the back of your head because of the pleasure he was capable of giving you.
Then he wrapped his arms around your waist seconds before entering you.
Your O shaped mouth gave echo to a deep moan, letting him know you were fully ready to feel him inside of you. 
He started rocking his pelvis against yours in a slow but passionate motion. That position was perfect because you could get lost in each other’s eyes while fucking your brains out. Your thrusts were bringing heaven to each one. The hot breath of his panting against your neck and your heavy sighs in his ear made you feel so close, resulting in both of you reaching the climax at the same time. It was a mess but quite a sexy one.
The sex you just had was perfect, so perfect Mason kept his cock inside of you a little more, basking in the pleasurable feeling of laukewarm water as well as the one of your walls still clenched around him.
“Can we do this again after my next game?
“Yeah but in the shower this time…” You groaned, looking at the mess you caused as all the bathroom floor was covered in water. “We made quite a mess”
"Not so fast baby girl" He stopped your attempt of getting out of there, tempting you with the oil massage you put there as he shook the bottle before your eyes "we still have to try this"
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brasiliangp · 11 days
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babygirlbenji · 11 months
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Last Train To London - Mason Mount
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A/N: This is just pure sadness. It was fun to write, I'll give you that, but you may need a tissue. Mason, buddy, in this fic, ya done fucked up.
Listen to this while reading:
Warnings: Angst
It had happened slowly, then before you knew it, you and Mason were like passing ships in the ocean. 
Your relationship had always been steadfast. You were the couple everyone wanted to be, everyone wanted what you had. His family adored you, especially Summer, who loved going shopping with her Auntie Y/N. His mum swore up and down right from the moment she had met you six months into your relationship that you were it for him, that you would be the one he would marry. He’d shared the same sentiments. In your nearly four years together, the fans had grown to know and adore you on a level no football wife or girlfriend had experienced before. You were so popular among the Chelsea team, it was no wonder you were almost as popular as Mason was, and you didn’t even play for the team. 
In the weeks leading up to his move to Manchester, however, you had noticed a distinct change in Mason, and in your relationship. Date nights had gone from three or four times a week, to maybe once every fortnight. He spent much of the evenings on the phone or on Zoom calls with his agent, with the medical teams, with Manchester United representatives. The morning cuddles in bed had been replaced by a swift kiss on your forehead before he hurried off to training or the gym. You had initially put his distance down to the fact that he was busy upping his whole life to the north, and his occasional snappiness to the fact that he was incredibly stressed about the rumours. He was getting hate from everywhere, the fans, media outlets, even people on the street. Calling him a traitor, disloyal, every name under the sun. 
Once the transfer was completed and you and Mason had relocated to Manchester, you had hoped that your relationship would improve. You put in every effort you could; making sure you put extra effort into making sure the house was spick and span for when he came home, ensuring the fridge had all sorts of food for every occasion, making sure you looked good even when you were going to bed. 
And yet, you could tell none of it was good enough. His heart had drifted, you could see that. You were holding on to false hope, and it was exhausting you. You spent hours awake at night, noticing that some nights he wouldn’t come home until three or four in the morning. He would shuffle about downstairs, and the next morning, you would find him crashed out on the sofa, eyes red and his hair messy. 
You’d asked him if he was okay, if your relationship was okay, and all he had offered you was a shrug, saying he’d talk when he was ready. You’d sigh, knowing you were losing him, and there was nothing you could do about it. Once, he’d got angry that you had sighed, saying there was still a lot going on. You’d ended up having a shouting match that lasted well into the night, and you cried yourself to sleep on more than one occasions.
The loneliness you were starting to feel crept in even more. You missed your friends in London, you missed Chelsea, you were never particularly keen on moving up north, having been a born and bred Londoner. Although Kai and Sophia were now in North London, you would rather be closer to them. You didn’t want to admit to them that you and Mason were having issues, but you didn’t know where else to go. 
Sophia had been so helpful, offering her and Kai’s new home to you anytime you needed it. You’d asked her not to tell anyone, but you figured one way or another people would find out. Sure enough, one day, when Mason was out somewhere, Ben sent you a message.
Benjamin: Hey Y/N, just checking in. How are you holding up? I know how difficult it is moving to a new place. We miss you down here. Lots of love x
You had stared at his message for about five minutes, before you rang him. He picked up on the second ring.
‘Benji, I’m not okay,’ you croaked through the lump in your throat.
‘What’s happened, darling? Talk to me, I’m right here.’ And so, you told him everything. About the arguments, the loneliness, the distance…
‘I just don’t know what to do, Benj. I feel like we’re miles away from each other when we live in the same house. What did I do wrong? What happened to us? I thought we were endgame. What do I do?’ He sighed, making the line go crackly. 
‘You’ve done nothing wrong. I think everything’s gone to his head, and without wanting to be blunt, he’s realised what he wants and what he doesn’t want.’ His words sent a stake through your heart, but you knew he was right. Mason was falling out of love with you. 
‘I just never thought this would happen.’ 
‘Me neither. All of us thought you guys would last. So, what are you going to do?’ You looked down. You knew what you had to do, as much as it shattered your heart. 
‘I’m going to pack my things, as much as I can into whatever bags I have, and get on the last train home to London. It’s late, I think the last train to London from Manchester leaves just before midnight. I just can’t hold on any longer, you know? I’ve been miserable for weeks, and he’s barely noticed. I can’t remember the last time we hugged, kissed. I need to do this for me.’ 
‘I’ll pick you up, text me where your train gets in and I’ll be there. You’re not going through this alone, Y/N, I promise you. He’s the idiot for losing a wonderful girl like you.’ As devastated as you were, his words made you feel slightly better knowing that you weren’t going through it alone. You’d been through a break up before and had been completely on your own, and you were glad you had your people around you. 
You and Ben talked a little while longer, before you hung up, promising to tell him when your train would be getting in. You sat up from the sofa, knowing you had to pack a bag or two. 
It was nearly 11:30 at night when you’d finished packing. Placing your bags by the door, you made sure you had all your important things, like your passport, driving licence and your phone. You would iron out everything once you had things sorted out in London.
As you zipped up a little shoulder bag with all your necessities, the front door opened. You heard Mason drop his bags down, and you knew by the pause of movement that he had seen your bags. He walked slowly into the dimly lit kitchen, where you were standing with your phone in your hand, pretending to look at something just to avoid looking at him. You knew if you did look at him, you’d reverse your decision. 
‘What’s going on?’ Mason asked, voice full of confusion. You braved it, and looked him dead in the eye, hands on your hips.
‘I’m leaving. I’ll be on the last train back to London.’ He opened and closed his mouth a few times, reminding you of a goldfish.
‘What? What are you talking about?’ You let out a soft scoffing laugh.
‘I’m going back home. I’m breaking up with you, Mason, I can’t do this anymore. You have barely looked at me the last few weeks. I get it’s been stressful, I get you’ve been busy, but you don’t think you could have told me what was going on? You’re barely here anymore, I barely see you. And when I do, it’s like I’m seeing a stranger. When was the last time you hugged me? The last time you kissed me? This just doesn't feel like home.’ Your voice broke on the last sentence, and you looked down. You couldn’t cry. Not now, not in front of him. You had to wait until you were on the train home to let it all out. You could listen to sad music and let it all out. ‘The last four years have been amazing. We have grown up together, basically. And we’ve made the most amazing memories, hell, the Champions’ League, the Super Cup, World Cup, Euros, it’s all been a dream come true. But we have to face it, we are not happy together anymore. And I need to do what’s best for me, because I feel like a stranger in my own home.’
His face was a mix of anger, disappointment and downright heartache. He knew he’d lost you. He knew you well enough that you had made your mind up, and there was nothing he could do to turn back time and make it better. 
‘I have tried so hard…’ Your voice broke again. ‘I have tried so hard to make us work. I kept the house tidy, I put food on the table, I was there to listen but you never talked. You never made any effort after we moved up here. I dare to think this started even before we moved up here.’ He stepped closer, and it was then that you could see the tears pooling in his eyes. ‘I really hope you find the girl of your dreams, Mase. You deserve that. And I hope this move was worth it all.’ You looked down at the promise ring he’d given to you on your second anniversary. Sliding it off and gently placing it onto the counter, you took a deep breath. ‘Goodbye, Mason.’ 
And with that, you walked past him and collected your bags. Your Uber was waiting outside to take you to Manchester Central. As the car sped away, you saw Mason running out of the house, yelling your name. 
‘Y/N! Y/N, please wait! I’m sorry…’ His pleas faded as the car drove away. The driver looked at you through the rearview mirror, but you stared stubbornly out of the window. You couldn’t turn back now, he had to feel the pain you had been feeling the last few weeks. You had so many things to sort out when you were back in London; a job, a flat, your car, everything just seemed so overwhelming. 
As you climbed onto the high-speed sleeper train bound for King’s Cross, you texted Ben to tell him that your train would get in about 3 in the morning. He messaged you back:
Benjamin: No worries, will bring food. Keep strong, I'm so proud of you x
The train pulled away, and you rested your head against the window. Your breath fogged the glass as the lights of Manchester gradually faded away, giving way to dark fields and the occasional small village. Your phone pinged with another message:
Mason: I’m so sorry. 
Then another.
Mason: Please forgive me. 
And another.
Mason: What can I do to make things better? 
You looked at his last message. What could he do to make things better? Rewind the last few weeks? You sighed as your finger acted without thought and blocked his number. You then went onto Instagram and blocked his main verified account, then his private account. Before you blocked his private account, however, you had a final glance at the photos of your relationship that littered it. His main account was football focused, but anyone who followed his private account could see he’d worshipped the ground you walked on. Tears were falling thick and fast down your cheeks. What had happened to you? You locked your phone, resting your head on your arms. 
The future was uncertain and your heart was aching, but you were going to be back in London, surrounded by your people. You knew that somehow, some day, you were going to be okay. 
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