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pitchsidestories · 1 month ago

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See You in Lisbon II Alexia Putellas x Arsenal!Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1606

summary: Reader is Arsenal through and through. Her girlfriend, Alexia, on the other hand, bleeds blaugrana. Both can't wait to see each other at the final in Lisbon.

author's note: Hi everyone, when we started writing this fanfic, we never imagined the game would unfold the way it did. We hope this story brings you some comfort, no matter which team you were supporting in the final. And we'd love to hear your thoughts after you have read it. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

“Any plans for the weekend?”, you asked casually, the phone pressed to your ear. While waiting for an answer from your girlfriend, you traced the rim of your coffee mug standing abandoned on the couch table in your London flat. You bit back a smile, thinking about the weekend when you’d finally get to see her again.

“Yes, winning the Champions League.”, Alexia answered without missing a beat.

You rolled your eyes, still wearing an affectionate smile. That was typical Ale, always thinking about football.

With a smirk, you said: “See you in Lisbon, love.”

“Sure.”, you heard her grin, determined to keep this rivalry up until the final whistle of the Champions League final.

You paused, raising an eyebrow. “Wow. No Sure, amor?”, you asked, feigning a pout.

“No, not before the final.”, Alexia teased.

“Alright.”

“Maybe afterwards.”, your girlfriend added, relenting just a little.

“Can’t wait.”

“Oh, trust me. You won’t have anything to celebrate afterwards.”, she half-joked.

And yes, maybe you felt the same way: excited to see her again which you didn’t do as often anymore since your transfer to Arsenal but also absolutely ready to give it your all and bring that trophy home.

The day of the final promised to be something very special. Sold out stadium, sunny weather and that impeccable atmosphere only a Champions League final could provide. You could feel it as soon as you set foot inside the stadium.

While you focused on getting ready for the game, across the tunnel in the Barcelona dressing room, they were still busy teasing your girlfriend.

“Nervous, Capi?”, Jana asked her as Alexia pulled on her shirt.

She shook her head: “Not at all.”

Esmee grinned at her: “But you’ll see your schatje again.”

“No.”, Alexia replied calmly, shutting the young player up quickly.

Ona giggled from the other side of the room: “Oh wow, that’s brutal.”

“I won’t even talk to her until after the game.”, Alexia added with a laugh.

Meanwhile, Arsenal’s dressing room was equally alive and you were the centre of attention.

“Codi and Vic, stop smirking at me like that.”, you said, trying to sound as serious as possible but eventually, a grin broke through.

Laia blinked at you with exaggerated innocence: “We’re not doing anything.”

Victoria exchanged a quick glance with her before turning to you with raised eyebrows: “Yeah, we’re not the one who’s dating the enemy.”

“The enemy, huh?”, you echoed with a smirk.

Laia nodded eagerly: “Si!”

“Only for a game. It’s not like I’m dating a Chelsea player.”, you said with a nonchalant shrug.

Luckily for you, the Arsenal captain intervened: “Leave her alone, you children.”

“Yes, we’ve no time for that now.”, Renée added, glancing expectantly at the clock, it was almost time.

Quickly, you reassured her: “Don’t worry, we’re ready and fully focused.”

Before your team left the dressing room and stepped into the players’ tunnel, you formed a huddle. Your coach addressed you all one last time before the match: “Then I’ve nothing else to say but to quote the legendary Johan Cruyff: Go out and enjoy.”

“Let’s go and win this.”, you continued, your voice brimming with excitement.

Leah, who was standing beside you, added: “For Kim and us.”

“Can you keep me out of this, please?”, the Arsenal captain said, clearing her throat, uncomfortable with the attention. The midfielder didn’t want the added pressure; she intended to give it her all on the pitch regardless.

“Sorry.”, the defender replied with an apologetic look.

Determined, Kim clapped her hands together, and the huddle slowly broke as each of you headed for the tunnel: “Let’s go.”

The game felt like it lasted an eternity and yet, also like the blink of an eye. But luck was on your side. Stina, who came on late in the match, scored the winning goal.

When the referee blew the final whistle, you leapt into Alessia’s arms. Tears formed in both your eyes as she whispered in disbelief: “We did it.”

Euphoria pulsed through your veins until Laia’s serious voice grounded you: “Y/n? I think someone needs cheering up.”

Your heart sank when you spotted your girlfriend sitting on the grass, looking sad and dejected.

“Ale?”, you called softly.

She looked up and rose to hug you, murmuring into your ear: “Congrats.”

“You all played brilliantly you almost had us at the end.”, you remarked sincerely.

A pained smile crossed Alexia’s lips. “But you were better.” Seeing the concern in your eyes, she quickly added: “I’m alright.”

You hesitated: “See you later, or would you rather be alone?”

“I think I want to be alone.”, she answered. The Barcelona captain wanted you to enjoy the special night ahead with your teammates.

You nodded reluctantly: “Okay.”

“Come on!”, Victoria shouted.

“Go celebrate, amor. Tonight, I’m mad at you but tomorrow I’ll be proud we lost to you,” Alexia declared, giving you a gentle push towards your celebrating teammates.

Your heart was full of love for her, and for your team. You turned to look back at her and responded: “I can live with the hate for tonight, if tomorrow’s only love.”

“Disgusting.”, Beth grimaced playfully. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

Unlike you, Alexia pretended not to hear the winger’s teasing remark. In her quiet confidence your girlfriend promised: “I’ll see you tomorrow. “

“Bye.”, you said softly, watching her turn her back on you. Before she disappeared into the group of Barça players, you felt someone tug on your arm.

You turned to see your coach pulling you into the direction of the stands.

“Renée, I can’t run anymore.”, you complaint through laughter. But of course, there was no way you'd miss out on celebrating with the fans.

“That poor girl gave her everything!”, Leah called over, thankfully jumping to your defence.

Renée still didn’t let go: “Yeah but I could see her getting sadder by the second.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, being read so easily by your coach was slightly embarrassing.

“It’s called empathy and this was about my girlfriend!”, you protested.

“Your girlfriend has three of those already, she will survive.”, Renée teased with a grin.

You paused to think about it, then nodded: “Good point, actually.”

“It’s time to celebrate yourself.”, Renée reminded you.

But you never even made it to the stands because Laia wrapped her arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground like it was nothing, She was beaming, absolutely exhilarated by the achievement.

You squirmed in her arms and laughed: “Laia, put me down!”

“No.”, she replied simply.

“Please, it’s time for the medals!”, you called out, pointing over toward the stage.

“Okay, but only because of that.”, Laia finally gave in and set you back down.

“Thank you.”

During the guard of honour, your eyes continued to drift, trying to find Alexias. She still looked crushed, only offering you a weak smile once the medal was around your neck. But you decided to give her the time she needed, tonight was for celebrating with your team.

The celebrations went on until the early morning hours. You only made it to bed when the sun had already started to rise so when it was time to get up, you felt groggy and disoriented.

Still half-asleep, you opened the door of your hotel room as you were already running late for breakfast. You nearly knocked over a bouquet of flowers waiting at your feet. You rubbed your eyes and picked it up without much thought.

“Who got you the flowers?”, Lia asked cheerfully, appearing down the corridor with Mariona on her side.

You blinked down at the bouquet like you were seeing it for the first time.

A quick check of the off-white card attached to the bouquet revealed the sender.

Grinning, you replied: “It’s from her. But you know what the note says?”

“What?”, Lia asked, intrigued.

“Enjoy the moment but next time, we’ll win again.“, you read the note out loud.

The Swiss woman remarked, amused: “That definitely sounds like her.”

“Seems like she’s already ready to go again.”, you realised, relieved.

Leah, who you hadn’t seen coming, gave you a light hug from behind and commented confidently: “Don’t worry. We won’t make it easy for her.”

With a finger pressed to your lips, you signalled for them to be quiet as you received a phone call from your girlfriend.

Mariona laughed quietly: “Ooh, she’s calling.”

You took a few steps away from the banter of your beloved teammates, heading to a quiet corner where you could look out at the sea.

“Morning, amor. Did you receive my surprise?”, Alexia asked gently.

Filled with deep gratitude, you answered: “I did. Gràcies.”

“You’re welcome. And I mean it—next time, we’ll win.”, your girlfriend emphasised.

Smiling, you shook your head. It was good to see her in that spirit again: “Lee already said we won’t make it easy for you.” You paused for a moment, then added lovingly: “Ik hou van jou.”

“I believe you. But we’ll be better then.”, she replied.

There was hopefulness in your voice as you asked: “See you soon?”

“Yes, promise.”

You had a few days off before joining the Dutch national team for the Nations League matches, but you already knew where you’d be heading first. You might play for different clubs, but beneath it all was a love that only grew deeper with time.

Lisbon had been wonderful, but you couldn’t wait to see her again in Barcelona where it all began between the two of you.

Home was no longer a place. It was in your girlfriend’s arms.

image sources: https://www.instagram.com/wchampionsleague/p/DKCwVPmIBVD/, pinterest

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samkerrworshipper · 29 days ago

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trouble in paradise

slow paced/slow burn fics fear me. i wrote this in like 4 hours so lets be kind guys and ignore how spirally thsi is. hopefully another fic coming sometime in the next week xo

williamson!sister x alexia putellas

warnings: light angst, mentions of alcohol

You have mixed emotions as soon as the whistle blows.

You’re ecstatic, obviously. Who wouldn’t be after winning the biggest accolade your club has had in 18 years, especially considering just how much time and effort you’ve devoted to

them in those 18 years.

Arsenal has won, your one and only club has managed to win the champions league in what can only be described as probably the biggest underdog win in champions league history.

It’s exhilarating, it doesn’t feel real. But as your eyes lock onto Alexia, on the other side of the pitch, doubled over on herself like she’s experiencing a pain that is non-human.

Then your eyes move to Leah, your sister who bleeds even more red than you do.

She’s running straight for you, like you’re the only person in the world she wants to share this moment with, and you feel the same, she’s the most important part of your world. But as she blocks your view of Alexia your heart drops in a way that it shouldn’t at this moment.

You don’t have much time to think about it before your sister is barreling straight into you, knocking all the air out of your lungs as the two of you fall to the ground.

“We fucking did it.”

She collapses directly on you like a golden lab who has just spotted its owner and wants the biggest hug a person can give. Her whole body buries itself into yours, and then about five more as the dog pile starts.

You are just as Arsenal and Leah and Lotte, every single part of your body and soul belongs to the club. But you have this underlying feeling that you shouldn’t at this moment. It’s weird to consciously know it but not be able to change it.

You’ve gotten so used to Barcelona winning, sitting in the stands for the last two finals watching your girlfriend win everything and anything that she sets her eyes on. It’s annoying how easy it all is for her, but it’s also what you love about her.

Leah says you're a puppy dog, she’s never quite gotten used to Alexia. Like any older sibling she’s protective, but Leah takes it to another level. She’s never made anything easy for Alexia, ruthless to a point that you’ve never seen her be with anybody else and yet Alexia takes it all, never complains, if anything she gives ten times more in an attempt to seek some kind of approval from your sister. She never quite gets it, but she likes the challenge, you know it.

The dog pile eventually falls off and you're left to look up at the sky. You think that it’s perfect, and that truly if you could stay staring up at the bright Lisbon blue for the rest of your life you would.

But you're brutally taken from that as a set of arms tug you off the ground. Suddenly the 90+ minutes of playing time hit you, or maybe the nausea, or guilt and you feel wobbly. Like your whole body could collapse if your teammates weren’t holding you up.

Leah kisses your head, over and over again until she moves onto having a moment with Kim and you've got Kyra plastered to your side telling you how you’re her idol and some other spur of words that don’t quite process in your brain.

It’s probably easily played off as shock due to the win, but in reality you actually are experiencing the worst guilt you’ve ever felt.

The shaking hands is worse, specifically because you have spent the last three summers with this team and have never in your life seen them all completely gutted. You try to keep it quick, but when Ingrid starts crying into you shoulder you legitimately feel like you might vomit.

Alexia is the worst, because of course she is.

It’s hard enough to approach her, sitting on the ground with Mapi squatted down next to her.

Mapi spots you first, your Spanish isn’t bad but you certainly can’t lip read it. She says something to Alexia though, because she looks up at you for a split second. You watch the hope fade into something else that looks like disgust and then she says something to Mapi which prompts Mapi to stand up.

The frown on her face tells you everything.

“She-She just needs a few minutes.”

You try not to let it show on your face, not to show the complete rejection you feel at being blocked from the one person who can probably solve your problem.

Mapi must see it though, she’s good at that you’ve learnt, good at reading people who don’t want to be.

“She’ll call you later, or come see you, I’ll make sure of it. She just needs a little bit.”

You try and convince yourself that it isn’t the worst pain you’ve ever felt.

The guard of honour is probably the worst part, she reaches out for Mariona a few steps in front of you, and then her eyes lock on you and you have hope. But she walks past, as if you’re nothing. As if you haven’t been in a public relationship for two years now and as if she isn’t the love of your life like she’s told you.

You feel Leah’s glare from beside you, her hand tightening in its place on your shoulder in a silent question. Her head ducks down, resting in your ear as if she’s going to say something.

“Leave it. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. If you want me to keep smiling for the cameras, stay silent.”

You’re the quieter out of you and Leah, less bossy, generally more in the shadows. But your relationship is quite the opposite, it kind of has to be when you’re dating the best player in the world. You already know how many tik tok edits are already going to be made about this moment and how many rogue messages you’ll receive from people who know nothing about your life.

Leah gets the message, she’s smart enough not to prod when there are quite literally cameras at every angle recording every moment right now. She has her own relationship that she’s trying to preserve from all of the media. She knows what it means to keep some parts of a public life hidden.

Barcelona collect their medals and you try to keep a tight smile on your face as you watch Alexia walk across the stage and take her medal. She’s not used to having a silver one, it’s the first thought in your mind, not for a long time at least. All she ever does is win, she was literally the poster girl for nikes ‘just win’ campaign.

Then it’s your turn, your turn to walk through Barca’s guard of honour. Most of the girls who you’ve spent summers with open up for a hug, or a handshake at least. But Alexia looks so spaced out and out of the moment that she doesn’t even flinch when Frido elbows her in the ribs. She looks at you, like a kicked puppy and then looks at the fucking ground of all places.

It’s the twisting of the knife already lodged in your gut.

You try to smile as the confetti goes off and the trophy is lifted. You try and think about how much more upset you’ll be when you look at the pictures afterwards just for you to look upset in all of them. It does nothing though, not when the trophy is offered to you to lift, not when Lotte has her arms around your shoulders humming to ‘North London Forever’ , not when your sister tries to dance with you.

Even when your family comes down to the pitch. Even the sight of your Spurs father in an Arsenal jersey does nothing.

Mariona is the first person to bring you in for a proper hug.

“It doesn’t feel good doing it, wishing that other people would win so much that you’d rather lose.”

You’re off to the side, far enough away that you don’t feel suffocated by red. A different shade of red to the Barcelona one you were expecting to see.

“Is it bad that I was so certain they were going to win that this wasn’t a possibility?”

Mariona shakes her head, although you highly doubt she agrees. She’s as invested in this belief as everybody else, you were too. You believed that your team could win, you just somehow didn’t believe it was actually going to happen.

“Not at all, there is nothing bad about being surprised about an outcome you didn’t expect. How about you go and talk to Ale?”

You feel sick thinking about her. She’s your favourite person and yet it feels like you’re the last person she wants to see.

“She doesn’t want to see me. She’s made that very clear.”

Mariona frowns and brings you in for another hug.

“She’s never been a very good loser, give her an hour and she’ll warm back up. She’ll want to celebrate with you when she’s gotten over this.”

You hope for the love of god that Mariona is right.

You put yourself through the hell of post-game celebrations and media. Take every photo and every interview that you have to and then you’re heading straight back to the hotel.

Alexia’s hotel is the one next to yours, and you make the decision that you can’t go to the celebrations until you’ve sorted it all out. Once you get to the celebrations you’re inevitably going to drink, in the company of Katie McCabe and your sister you’ll probably drink a lot. You tend to have a pattern of your anger when you're drunk turning into a very ugly person and you’re determined to not let it happen right now. You also want to see your girlfriend.

Leah moans the whole walk over, groaning about how she could be partying and about how she could be drinking and celebration and a whole other slew of complaints that your depressed brain isn’t ready to hear.

You make it into the lobby without encountering anybody, but Alexia’s hotel hallway is full of Barcelona staff and players who look like they're ready to spit and yours and your sisters game jerseys that you’re still wearing.

“I don’t get why we have to bloody search for Putellas when she’s having a pity party, we should be partying.”

You hiss at Leah, she’s slightly tipsy on the heineken cans from the locker room and is bordering on your last nerve.

“I didn’t ask you to come Leah, I am here because I want to be, I didn’t tell you to accompany me.”

She groans again but you’re too focused as your eyes lock onto Patri at the end of the hallway.

“Oi, Patri, Patri.”

She turns quickly, her eyes downcast and puffy as if she’s been crying for hours, which your figure she probably could have.

“Williamson one, Williamson two.”

Leah laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke that could have been made.

“Glad to see that I haven’t lost my sense of humour.”

Then Leah giggles, the same way she does when she’s plastered at the pub on a Sunday night and is two steps away from forgetting everything.

“I need to see Alexia.”

Patri swallows, in the same way people tend to when they’re nervous.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

Leah’s giggling seizes. She steps out in front of you.

“Tell Putellas to stop sulking and come and congratulate my sister the same way she has the last two years. She can get over herself for five minutes and be gracious.”

Suddenly the possibility of a fight in this hallway doesn’t seem impossible.

“Patri, please, just let me see her. She doesn’t need to talk, I just want to see her.”

Patri shakes her head, but you assume Leah does the scary thing where she frowns and tilts her head like an animal about to strike because Patri relents.

“I will try, but I can’t promise you anything.”

Patri disappears down the hallway until she gets to a room a few doors down, she must have Alexia’s keycard because the door opens immediately and she slips in.

“Seriously, why are we here? This is your night and Putellas is ruining it. Her sob story is seriously killing the buzz.”

You’re sick of everybody else telling you what to do and what to feel.

“Leah I didn’t fucking ask you to be here, shut up or leave. This is my problem and I’m happy to fix it on my own.”

Leah mutters something under her breath and you swear you might strangle her, it wouldn’t be the first time the two of you had gotten into a tussle. Then you spot Mapi down the end of the hallway and your focus switches again. This time you don’t have to yell, she spots you immediately and pivots in your direction.

“Chica, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be partying, no? Or at least doing something better than this.”

Your strangling intention pivots to Mapi.

“This is what I’m saying, why are we here?”

Strangling back to Leah.

“Leah, final time I tell you to shut up before I throat punch you.”

You might not be as intense as your sister but when you get worked up you’d argue you’re ten times more terrifying.

“I just need Ale, okay? Five seconds is all I need.”

Mapi grimaces and it feels like you’re missing something and you hate it.

Just as you’re about to say something, Patri emerges. With no Alexia and a deep frown etched into her face.

“How about you come back tomorrow, or she’ll call you sometime tomorrow.”

You use all of your willpower to shake your head.

“No, tell her that it’s urgent, that I need her right now.”

Leah’s back behind you like a guard dog who's ready to attack at any minute.

“Look, she’s not, she can’t see you right now.”

You feel all the tears building up, all the guilt and anger from today finally coming to fruition.

“Patri, Mapi, please.”

It’s the wobble in your words that do it you think, or at least it does it for Leah.

“You two need to talk to your captain and give her thirty seconds to see my sister whilst she still has some dignity. This is fucking embarassing. She’s stood by her for all of her wins even when it’s been hard for her, she has been there for literally everything.”

Neither of the women move and it’s probably the part that breaks you the most, that these people who you have known for years now don’t have the respect to give you this.

Leah pushes past them, walking to the door Patri had walked in and out of and banging on it so loudly the sound reverberates.

“Putellas I swear to god, or dios or whatever the fuck you call it in Catalan that if you don’t open this door right now to give my sister the congratulations she fucking deserves then I will make sure that she never comes and sees you again. You think that you already have it tough with me? I will make you so miserable that you’d wish to be in hell. Open the fucking door.”

Leah keeps banging, until your ears are ringing and multiple staff members peek their heads out of their bedroom doors to see what all the commotion is.

“Leah.”

It seems like the adrenaline has gotten to her head.

“Leah, let’s go.”

Leah looks like she’s about to say something else, like she’s going to argue but your face must say it all.

“Tell Putellas she can go and get fucked and that if she ever wants to see my baby sister again she better have a pretty good apology lined up and some serious grovelling. In England. No more flying out to Spain because it’s easier for her. She wants anything to do with her she can come talk to me first.”

You don’t wait to see if Leah is following behind you, you just start walking. Down the hallway and into the elevator where Leah does join you.

She doesn’t talk even though it seems like she wants to. She brings you into a hug as soon as the doors close and you don’t even attempt to stifle your sobs.

Leah hugs you until the doors to the elevator open and then she helps you to wipe your face as you exit the hotel and make the walk two blocks back to your own hotel.

The party in the function room is in full swing. Leah forces you through the door like she knows that you’re considering bolting.

“You’re going to regret it if you leave, hate me for it now but I’m right.”

You definitely hate her for it but you don’t run away either. You let your sister tug you through the crowd of people until she finds your mom and then you're gone all over again. Leah walks off in search of Elle and you're left standing in front of your mum with new tears streaming down your face. It takes all of five seconds for her to wrap her arms around you and bring her into you.

“I don’t get why she doesn’t want to see me, I just want to see her.”

You don’t know whether or not you want to hear anything. You want to be able to celebrate with your teammates like a normal person and not be so attached to your fucking girlfriend that when shit like this happens you fall apart.

You’ve always loved hard though, loyal to the point it’s kind of concerning. It’s the one thing you do beat Leah at.

“Just give her a little bit, yeah, she’s struggling. Give her some room to breathe and then punch her a bit for being a dick and get over it. You two will get over it together.”

You want to believe your mum, she’s generally right with most things. You’re a bit hurt right now though to think straight.

“Go enjoy yourself, I promise you that if you don’t then you’ll regret it. Enjoy yourself and worry about Alexia later.”

You would say that the three tequila shots that Katie feeds you are probably what makes you start to enjoy yourself. There’s an unspoken assumption that you’re clearly not okay but everybody is decent enough not to ask. You’re given pretty much every alcoholic beverage that your teammates can find and it helps, slightly. You forget about Alexia for a little bit, for long enough for it to hurt a little bit less.

Until Vic comes up to you telling you that there is somebody from Barcelona waiting for you outside.

Your heart soars, and you all but try to stumble as quickly as you can out of the function room in search of the one person you want to be.

Your heart plummets as soon as you make it out of the doors and Jana is the one waiting for you.

Your mind is significantly more foggy than it was when you were talking to Patri and Mapi.

“She’s sorry.”

Sorry seems to be the worst thing you could be told.

“Sorry?”

Jana shrugs like she has more to say but doesn’t know how to.

“She just needs a bit of a break right now.”

You feel every positive feeling that had been starting to reintroduce itself to your body completely leave.

“A break from our relationship, or me or just life?”

Jana looks like she really doesn’t know what to say.

“So she loses one game, the first game shes ever fucking played against me for club and decides she’s just done? That she can’t stomach perfect fucking barcelona losing? Nice, love that her pride comes before me. You’d think after three years that would maybe pass but I suppose the time doesn’ matter as much to her as it matters to me.”

Jana is left speechless and that’s all the answers you need.

You drink. You drink a lot. Going toe to toe with Katie is no small feat but you manage to do pretty well. You drink until you can’t think anymore and are legless and then you drink some more.

You don’t know what time somebody takes you to bed but you do know that you wake up with Leah snoring beside you and your head so sore that it feels like your brain doesn’t belong inside of it.

“Oi, stop fucking snoring. No wonder Elle complains.”

Leah rouses next to you, a lopsided smile on her face as she blinks away the sleep. She put an arm out to hug you and you give her a shove that almost pushes her off of the bed.

“Glad to see that your charm doesn’t disappear when you’re nursing the hangover of the century. I was supposed to spend the night with Elle but you were so blind I genuinely thought you were going to choke on your own vomit in your sleep.”

You try to shove her again but she’s far away now that she’s out of the shoving vicinity.

“You’re supposed to be nice to me, y’know, little sister care or something.”

Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah right I’ve seen Putellas fight on the floor with her sister.”

As soon as the words leave Leah’s mouth she knows what she's done, everything you’d almost forgotten comes flooding straight back and the sickness washes over you all over again.

“Shit-I’m-Shit.”

You shake your head, it's already been said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. We should start packing, early flight and everything.”

Leah seems to get the message, rolling out of your bed in a thud and dragging herself out of your room with a little smile on the corner of her lips.

You have peace for about five minutes, enough peace to silence the pain in your head every time you blink or move. Until your door unlocks and Kyra comes barreling in.

“So trouble in paradise?”

She’s got a lot more energy than you think anybody else does. As if she never drank to begin with.

“You can either leave or be quiet and help me pack my bag.”

Kyra wasn’t the person you thought you’d bond with. When she’d come to Arsenal you’d already cemented pretty solid relationships with girls in the team like Lotte and Kim. You all were on the quieter side. Then Kyra had come along and everything you’d heard about her and seen of her was loud and rambunctious and chaotic. Then you got to know her, got to know about how she was an extroverted introvert and 80% of the time was a lot calmer than everyone made her out to be. The two of you found a balance together.

“I’ll do your toiletries, you sort out luggage.”

You're sick of the little sorry smile people keep giving you.

Kyra battles in your ensuite whilst you throw the very small amounts of your things into your suitcase. It’s a quick process and by the time you check your phone you’re running perfectly on time. You try not to feel hurt by the lack of texts, calls or signs of life from Alexia. You’re fine, none of it really matters.

Kyra and you manage to get your things out of your room right as some of the staff are coming down and knocking on peoples door to meet down at the bus transfers to the airport. You try not to think about the fact that as soon as you get on the plane that’s another two weeks before you play Alexia again. Two more weeks without seeing her that you didn’t think you’d have.

You help Kyra pack up her own things before the two of you head down to the lobby to wait.

The lobby is already pretty full, full of teammates who look like they’re in desperate need of a bucket or some serious anti-nausea pills before they hop on a flight.

You dump your luggage with everybody else’s and find a seat mostly away from everybody else. Although nobody seems to be in an overly sociable mood.

You’re wallowing in your own depression, really. It’s a little bit pathetic but you don’t really care. You’re past the point of caring what anybody thinks of you after you pretty much confessed all of your relationship problems to half of your teammates last night and possibly coaching staff as well.

You should be embarrassed but in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t really matter. It feels like your relationship is imploding in front of you and you literally can’t do anything to stop it.

“Mini Williamson, you’re wanted.”

Beth’s voice is completely gone, raw and stringy but you hear it all the same.

“I don’t want a photo or anything else, Beth.”

Suddenly you wish that you’d gotten your sunglasses from your bag because as the sun shines in through the windows in the lobby your head hurts at a whole other level.

“I think you’ll want to see this.”

You look up at Beth and then at the direction she’s pointing in and choke on whatever air you’d been inhaling.

“Oh god.”

Alexia looks like she hasn’t slept, less than you. The part that is the most horrific about her appearance though is the arsenal jersey that she’s wearing. You’ve never seen Alexia in a jersey of yours that hasn’t been an English one, there was a weird contingency between the two of you that club jerseys were just a no. You both were one club players, and you wanted it to stay that way. Yet here Alexia is, standing in the lobby of the hotel with a bright red Arsenal jersey.

The only thought you have is that as you sister locks eyes with her that she is going to punch her. It’s the only thing that crosses your mind.

“Leah. No.”

Leah doesn’t listen, it was a hopeless attempt. She flys full force towards Alexia at a rate that you could never catch up with.

Alexia doesn’t flinch as Leah comes face to face with her, her hands digging into the stupid jersey as Leah starts to yell something that you can’t understand because your too focused on getting in between the two of them without passing out from hangover symptoms.

You manage to cross the room before Leah throws hands. Thankfully.

“Leah, no. Not here.”

You try to ignore the fifty eyes of your teammates on you.

Leah looks like an animal about to tear into her prey.

“Leah. No. Not here.”

You drag the two of them into the nearest handicapped bathroom you can find.

“You think you can just dick around my sister and show up here the next morning and be forgiven, huh? God Putellas you should be worshipping her fucking feet right now, you should be grateful that she hasn’t broken up with you ass for your dumbass behaviour. Do you realise how out of your league she is? How any person in London would break their own leg to have her, and yet you just get to have her and fuck her around however you want?”

Alexia just nods along with everything Leah says.

“Are you done, Leah? Can I talk to my partner now without my sister talking for me?”

Leah is staring down Alexia with such intensity that you think she might combust.

“Leah, out, let me talk to her, please.”

Leah relents, but then gives up.

“I will be waiting outside and if I hear anything leave your mouth Putellas besides an apology I will be back.”

The older sister act has happened your whole life, to every girlfriend, fling, one night stand and partner. Apparently it’s unavoidable.

The room is silent for a few seconds, Alexia doesn’t look like she’s going to say anything so you fill the silence.

“I’ve never seen you in an Arsenal top before.”

With the busy schedule you hardly manage to make it to any of Alexia’s club matches and vice versa. Although you do have a Barca top buried in the bottom of your dresser that you pull out when you have time to watch Alexia’s games. You never wear it but you bring it out anyways.

“You won, you deserve to be represented.”

You can’t tell how authentic it is and that hurts.

“I just didn’t deserve it last night.”

Alexia looks so broken that you almost fold, almost give up the tough persona but you’re still hurt, even as you look at Alexia’s pouty features and empty eyes.

“I-I there’s no excuse. You deserved to celebrate how you pleased last night and I ruined it for you. I was selfish and too consumed in my own emotions to see that. I don’t have anything to say but I’m sorry. You deserved better and I didn’t give it to you.”

Alexia’s lip quivers, properly quivers.

“That’s all you have? That you were too worried about yourself to care about me? Do you understand that to be in a relationship it's 50/50, you don’t get to choose when you care about me and when you don’t. You’re supposed to love me unconditionally.”

A tear rolls down Alexia’s face and you feel horrible, but you know you’re doing the right thing by not going easy.

“I’ve never lost to somebody I loved. I’ve never played on a field and wanted another person to win simply because I love them. I’ve never felt worse than I did when I was happy that you won. I was supposed to be upset about us losing and yet I was more upset about the fact that I was happy that you won. I didn’t want to ruin your celebrations by being upset, you deserved to be surrounded by people who were going to appreciate you fully instead of distract you. I wanted you to be free of me burdening you.”

It’s the relatability, the fact that you can say that everything Alexia is describing you also felt.

“I want to share everything with you. I don’t spend every spare minute on the phone with you and every other minute thinking about you to not want to spend the ups and downs with you. I would have rather sat in your hotel room all of last night crying then gone to stupid celebrations not knowing how you felt about me.”

The silence hangs for a few seconds.

“They were great celebrations, not stupid and Putellas this is when you actually apologise so I don’t kill you.”

You bang your head against the wall of the bathroom.

“Leah, Fuck off.”

Alexia shakes her head.

“I am sorry. I did not give you wanted on the night of your life. You deserved to be celebrated and I did the complete opposite. I never want that to happen again, I love your more than anything, you are my life and you are my soul. Please, let me make it iup to you. I’ll come to London, I’ll do anything. I just want you, I want to make it up to you.”

You suppose she’s the love of your life, and you aren’t quite ready for this to be the end of that.

“You’ll come to London and you’ll wear my jersey all weekend and you’ll go out for dinner with Leah and make things up and you’ll deal with me when I’m wasted or so hungover I can’t move until you have to go to Spain. Understood.”

Alexia nods dutifully.

“And she’ll take you shopping, both of us shopping, and I want the new oakley drop.”

You roll your eyes and reach out for Alexia, letting her press the most respectable of kisses to your cheek before parting.

“Leah if you aren’t gone by the time I exit I will make it so you can never play football again.”

You wait for the scamper of her feet before you fall into Alexia with the whole weight of your body, relaxing against the person you’ve needed most,

#sammykworshipper thoughts #woso #woso community #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #sammykworshipperfics #barca femeni #woso imagine #arsenalwfc #woso fanfics #leah williamson sister #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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enwoso · 12 days ago

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right swipe, right time | alessia russo

-> based on this request🩷

masterlist

alessia didn't mean to download tinder.

well... okay. technically, she did. but it was through pure peer pressure. elite-level peer pressure.

it was one of those rare, peaceful nights on england camp. no media obligations. no early morning session. just music, snacks, and eight girls crammed into one hotel room in matching lionesses training hoodies, flopped on each other's beds with face masks and football socks still on.

"admit it," ella said, sipping from a bottle of lucozade. "you're hopeless. you haven't even looked at anyone since—what, 2021 when you got with that girl in-?"

"oi," alessia replied, shoving a pillow at her hoping the rest of the sentence wouldn't follow. "not everyone needs a tinder girlfriend and a backup date."

"i need to have a backup," ella scoffed. "just let us be your wing women."

chloe popped her head up from the floor. "you, though, less? you're like a nun with abs."

"excuse me?"

"i'm just saying, you've got biceps and absolutely no one to appreciate them. it's tragic really."

the teasing escalated until ella snatched alessia's phone, cackling. within minutes, the group was huddled around it, swiping through profiles with ruthless commentary.

then chloe stopped. "wait. wait. look at her."

the girl on the screen had sun-warmed skin, a long sleek ponytail with a silver chain around her neck and a smile like it came easy.

the profile read:

y/n, 26.

📍aussie in london

dog mum, football, coffee, beach, sarcasm. swipe right if you can deal with my accent😉

alessia blinked. "she's australian?"

"even better," leah said, not even looking up from her phone. "less commitment, more fun." ella laughed and swiped right before alessia could protest.

it was a match. you messaged first.

you: ‘so... you're the type who let her friends swipe for her?’

alessia: ‘and who told you that??’

you: ‘you did. in your bio. it says not my idea.’

alessia: ‘touché.’

you: ‘how do you feel about a flat white and great company.’

you were clever. funny, but not in the exhausting ‘trying-too-hard’ way. you admitted your accent made ‘no’ sound like ‘naw,’ were fluent in football slang props to having a football mad brother and dad growing up, and had some pretty strong opinions about oat milk.

on the second day you sent a photo of your dog - a tan mutt with ridiculous ears, one permanently flopped sideways.

you: ‘this is roo. he's 40% kangaroo, 60% drama queen.’

alessia: ‘did you really name your dog after a kangaroo?’

you: ‘duh what else am i supposed to name the most aussie thing i've owned while here in london?’

alessia laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone.

you and alessia talked for hours. that night. the next day. the next. alessia didn't want to jinx it, but something about you stuck in her head.

so when you casually said on facetime, "i know a place that makes coffee almost as good as back home. want to judge it together?", alessia couldn't stop herself before she said yes.

⸻

you arranged to meet just outside of st albans, outside a quiet café nestled between a vinyl shop and a bookstore that always smelled like cedar. the place had one of those wood-paneled signs and hanging plants framing the doorway.

you were already there when alessia arrived — leaning on the railing, sunglasses tucked onto the top of your head, wearing black jeans, a red nike hoodie with a white tee poking out from underneath the hoodie making you look so effortlessly put together.

and you brought roo. a worn blue leash in one hand as roo sat obediently at your side with his tongue lolling out like he owned the street.

"so this is the infamous roo?" alessia asked as she crouched down to scratch behind his ear with a wide grin.

you grinned cheekily, "he wanted to see if you were worth my time."

"and?"

"jury's out, depends on how good your coffee order is"

inside, you and alessia sat at a corner table by the window, roo laid under the table, head on your foot like a sleepy chaperon.

the cafe was cozy, a little too warm with soft music playing and the smell of fresh espresso lingering in the air as the conversation flowed as if they'd known each other longer than a few days.

the two of you talked football, you had played through your youth before switching to the more fitness route of personal trainer. talked music types. favourite food. best goals.

alessia recounted her childhood to you about growing up with two older brothers who tackled her in the garden until she toughened up. you had similar instead yours was more squabbles with your brother about whose turn it was to chose what to watch on the tv.

the two of you laughed, a lot and alessia found herself more relaxed than she had felt in ages.

after coffee turned into a walk through the park, roo trotting between the two of you like he belonged to you and alessia. when you both stoped on a quiet bench, the city loud and buzzing behind them. you gently nudged alessia's shoulder.

"you've got a great laugh," you said, you voice a little softer now - not flirtatious, not teasing. just honest.

alessia blinked, caught off guard a little. "that's random."

you shrugged, but there was a flicker of something more vulnerable in your eyes. "just been thinking it all afternoon. every time you've laughed, i've wanted to hear it again. i dunno. it's like.. it sounds a little like home, even when nothing else here does."

that brought alessia up short — in the best way. her pulse fluttered a little. the wind tugged at a loose strand of hair near her cheek, and you reached out instinctively, brushing it back gently with the back of your hand.

"and," you added, gaze holding hers, "i-i really want to kiss you."

alessia didn't say anything at first. she just stared at you — at the slight flush on your cheeks, the careful tension in your posture, the way your thumb brushed against her own jeans like you were grounding herself.

"i thought you'd never say it," alessia said quietly almost whispering. you smiled, just barely.

alessia leaned in, slow and sure, her hand resting lightly on your arm. your faces hovered close, breath mingling in the space between the two of you. when your lips met, it wasn't fireworks or drama — it was warm, slow, and steady. like the start of something that didn't need to rush to prove itself.

alessia's lips were soft, patient — like she didn't want to take too much, just enough to say this is real.

you smiled into the kiss, nudging your nose against alessia's as she deepened it for just a heartbeat more, letting herself melt into the moment.

roo let out an exaggerated sigh at your feet, flopping down dramatically like he'd seen this all before.

you pulled back with a quiet laugh, your forehead resting lightly against alessia's. "well," you murmured, "guess you passed his test too."

alessia's grin was wide now. "should i be relieved or insulted that your dog is the final judge?"

"trust me," you said, brushing your thumb gently across alessia's hand, "he's got excellent taste."

⸻

fast forward a few weeks — text messages, video calls, one stolen weekend when you and alessia both had a spare weekend — and suddenly it was the champions league final.

most of alessia's teammates had someone in the crowd. family, partners, whole sections of fans in their shirts. alessia didn't expect anyone but her parents and family to be there.

so when alessia jogged out for warm-ups and caught a flash of that same sleek ponytail under a baseball cap, sitting behind the dugout with a massive arsenal flag scarf draped over your shoulders, alessia's heart just stopped.

you grinned at alessia from the stands and sent a message.

you: ‘go win it, star girl. i'm here. you've got this and you deserve this so much🏆’

the final whistle blew.

the roar hit first — a wave of noise so loud it felt like it shook the air itself. arsenal had done it. champions of europe. alessia stood frozen for a second, boots rooted to the grass, blinking up at the stadium lights through tears she hadn't realised were already falling.

a brutal, brilliant final. 90 minutes of fight. blood, grit, and everything they had left in them.

now there were arms around alessia — teammates screaming, laughing, crying — someone pouring champagne over her back, another dragging her into a pile-on. alessia laughed so hard she nearly dropped to her knees, adrenaline flooding her body until she was floating.

confetti exploded from the stands like rain. gold, silver, red — blinding under the floodlights. they lifted the trophy. alessia's medal felt heavy and strange around her neck, like it wasn't real yet.

somewhere in the middle of the chaos, she remembered to look toward the tunnel. and there you were.

you stood just past the barrier, half-hidden by stewards and staff, but alessia saw you instantly. somehow, even through the din, even with a stadium erupting around her, alessia's eyes found yours.

"you came?," alessia said breathlessly as she stumbled toward you, cheeks flushed, hair soaked, half-covered in sweat and sticky champagne. alessia's voice cracked on the last word.

you smiled — wide, proud, and maybe just a little teary yourself. "of course i did. you think i was gonna miss the love of my life win a champions league medal?"

alessia froze mid-step, slightly caught off guard. "you just said—"

you smirked, raising an eyebrow slightly . "too soon? i'm australian. we move fast."

alessia laughed, dazed and glowing, before pulling you into a quick, messy hug. a one you didn't want to end, at least not yet. but before either of you could say more, a voice rang out:

"well, well, well. whose this?"

chloe kelly. grinning like a madwoman, dragging leah along behind her, both still in full kit, cheeks streaked with war paint and joy.

leah narrowed her eyes. "wait hold up... this the aussie?"

"the tinder aussie?" chloe gasped. "you're real?!"

you, cool as ever, extended a hand, voice deadpan with just the right touch of theatricality.

"y/n. from sydney. like coffee, dogs, and a certain blonde striker who wears number 23."

chloe collapsed into giggles so violent she almost dropped her phone. "she's perfect. and you've been hiding her! wait till i tell ella about this!"

alessia groaned, trying to tuck herself partially behind you. "can everyone not make this a thing?"

"too late," leah declared, already snapping a photo. "group chat is getting this in two minutes. tooney is gonna have a field day!"

you leaned toward alessia's ear, your voice low and warm beneath the chaos. "i'm stealing you in five minutes. you've earned my full attention and unlimited kisses for the night and maybe the rest of eternity!"

alessia turned to face you, her medal bumping softly against her chest. her eyes were tired and shining. "only if i get the right side of the bed."

you grinned. "done. whatever you wish, with my hoodie on the side"

and then, right there, in front of teammates, staff, her family, and 60,000 still-cheering fans — you kissed her. it wasn't rushed. it wasn't shy. it was the kind of kiss that told everyone watching: this is real.

alessia leaned into it, one hand finding the hem of your coat, the other curled into your hoodie, grounding herself. you tasted like mint and stadium air and something steadier, something safe.

when you finally pulled back, alessia's smile was soft and breathless. for once — champagne in her hair, confetti in her eyelashes, teammates heckling in the background — alessia didn't care about the noise, the cameras, or what tomorrow would bring.

for once, the chaos was absolutely worth it. alessia had swiped right for the right person. her right person

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idontknowwfc · 2 months ago

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Arsenal to the final! Together!

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crochetnerdsworld · 6 days ago

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Captain Softie (Leah Williamson X Reader)

Y/N brings her baby niece to visit Leah at training. The team teases Leah for how soft she is for Y/N and the baby. TW: Mentions of drug addiction

Y/N adjusted the baby carrier one more time as she approached the Arsenal training ground, her six-month-old niece Dakota gurgling happily against her chest. The baby's blue eyes widen as she takes in her surroundings.

Y/N has had sole custody of the little girl since her birth. Y/N's brother, the baby's biological father, is a drug addict and has zero interest in raising the baby. The baby's biological mother, also struggling with addiction and being only twenty, did not feel ready to raise the child, but also felt strongly against the baby being placed into the foster care system. Thus, Y/N stepped up and volunteered to raise her niece.

She was worried that her longtime girlfriend, Leah, would leave her, but Leah has been amazing since day one, immediately naming herself the baby's favorite auntie. After many months of begging from the team, Leah gave in and suggested bringing Dakota to see the team after training. They've met the baby before, but Dakota has never been to the training center.

"There's my girls," Leah called out as she jogged over, smiling widely at Y/N with that smile that always makes Y/N's heart flutter like crazy. She was still in her training kit, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, but she immediately softened when she saw the baby.

"Hello, baby gooner," Leah cooed, her voice dropping to the gentlest whisper as she stroked Dakota's head. "Aren't you just precious in your little jersey?"

The moment is interrupted by Beth's voice coming from behind them: "Oh my god. Would you look at our captain? We should start calling her Captain Softie.",

Soon enough, the entirety of the team had gathered around, and Y/N watched in amusement as Leah completely transformed. The fierce, fiery defender who commanded respect from teammates and opponents alike was now making silly faces and cooing at Dakota, her teammates' growing grins going completely unnoticed.

"Leah, mate, you're absolutely gone," Kyra chuckled, pulling out her phone to record as Leah freed Dakota from the carrier and began to bounce her in her arms, earning a squeal of delight from the baby.

"Look at her face!" Alessia whispered to Katie, who was wearing a smirk on her face. "She's completely smitten."

"Our co-captain, everyone," Vic announced dramatically. "Tough as nails on the pitch, but put a baby into the picture, and boom, she turns into a giant puddle of mush."

Leah finally looked up and took in the circle of rather amused faces around her. "What? She's adorable! Look at her little jersey! And those tiny toes!"

"She's only six months old, and you're already planning her future Arsenal academy enrollment, aren't you?" Beth teased.

"Her home-from-the-hospital outfit was an Arsenal onesie," Y/N added, biting back a laugh as Leah's cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

"Maybe," she mumbled before turning her attention back to Dakota. "Yes, you're going to be a Gunner, aren't you, sweetheart?"

"This is hilarious," Steph commented, shaking her head in wonder. "Y/N, you've turned our skipper into absolute mush."

"It's not just the baby," Caitlin pointed out, grinning wickedly. "Look how she goes all soft and mushy whenever Y/N's around anyway."

"That's different!" Leah protested, but her argument was weakened instantly when Dakota grabbed her finger, causing the blonde to immediately melt again. "Oh, look at that grip! You're so strong! Yes, you are!"

"Different how?" Katie pressed, enjoying every second of this. "You reorganized the entire training schedule last week so you could drive Y/N to her appointment."

"And last month, when you missed team dinner because Y/N had a headache?" Emily added.

"Or when you spent an hour researching the best tea for her cold?" Lotte chimed in.

Y/N watched, Leah's blush deepening even further, finding it incredibly endearing how flustered she was becoming. Dakota seemed to sense the attention and let out a happy babble, reaching up and touching Leah's cheek.

"See? Even the baby knows you've gone all soft for Y/N," Kyra declared victoriously.

"I am not soft," Leah protested half heartedly, but she was smiling as Dakota grasped a strand of her hair. "I'm just... caring."

"Soft," the entire team said in unison, causing Y/N to double over in laughter.

"Alright, alright," Y/N said, taking pity on her red-checked girlfriend. "Leave her alone. There's nothing wrong with being soft now and then,"

Leah shot her a grateful look before turning back to the baby. "Don't listen to them, Dakota. Auntie Leah is very tough and super scary."

Dakota's response?: Blowing a spit bubble, which quickly sent the team into a fresh round of laughter and caused even more cooing from Leah.

"Hopeless," Beth declared, smiling fondly. "Absolutely, 100%, completely hopeless."

As the teasing continued, Y/N caught Leah's eye and mouthed "I love you" over Dakota's head. The soft smile that spread across Leah's face made Y/N's heart warm. She loves that Leah is so soft for her and Dakota.

"Right then," Leah said eventually, carefully passing Dakota back to Y/N when the baby reached for her. "Who wants to explain to this little angel why Arsenal is the greatest club in the history of the world?"

This causes an immediate and dramatic collective groan from the team, but Y/N noticed they all gathered closer anyway, each taking a turn to say hi to Dakota. And if Leah kept her arm wrapped protectively around Y/N's waist the entire time, well, that was just proof that no matter how much of a tough guy act she can put on, deep down, their captain is just a big softie for her girls.

#woso imagines #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal x reader #woso x reader

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yamumsyadadd · 4 days ago

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the end of the road

The start of a new series :) alexia Putellas x Leah Williamson!ex wife. Other writings about it here: 4 times

When you were thirteen you thought you met the love of your life, but now at twenty-six you realised you were wrong.

Leah had always been the pretty, popular girl. When you immigrated to Melton Kaynes in 2013 with your papa, you were intimidated by her. Her natural blonde hair and blue eyes made everyone fawn over her. Everyone but you. Though that would quickly change.

After an assignment threw the two of you together, she wanted to be around you. You didn’t think you were anything special, your ordinary brown hair, brown eyes and Spanish skin but to Leah, you were the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

There was something about your demeanour that drew her in. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t care what people thought about you, or the way you helped others in class when they didn’t understand. She wasn’t sure, but she was ready to risk everything for you.

Leah would follow you around like a puppy begging for a crumb of food. She wanted your attention, for you to see her. Truthfully you did see her but you weren’t confident in your own sexuality, so why would you be confident in hers?

Slowly, your walls around her came down. You had a lot more in common than you realised. Her parents were divorced and so were yours. The only difference was who you lived with. Your mami had stayed behind in Spain, continuing on with the group homes and foster care foundation she had started. Your papa opted to move back to England and extend the foundation to more European countries.

It was a random Tuesday when you first kissed Leah. She was rambling on about some football thing she disagreed with and you couldn’t help it. After the initial confusion Leah kissed back. It didn’t even get to the end of the day before she asked you to be her girlfriend, you were slightly hesitant, but said yes nonetheless.

You tried to hide the relationship from both your parents. Your mami was the one that caught it first, secretly telling your papa not to freak out if and when you decided to share the news. It took a few months before you felt confident and comfortable enough to share it with them.

Since their divorce, they remained friends. Real friends, there was no huge fight or cheating that caused it, they simply just grew apart and no longer loved each other in that way. As all three of you sat around the dinner table in Barcelona, you started to cry. The overwhelming feeling that your parents would be disappointed, angry or even resentful.

“Querida, what’s wrong?” Your mami was alarmed, one minute you were all laughing then you burst into tears.

“I’m in love with Leah. She’s my girlfriend, I’m a lesbian.” It came out in a mumbled mess. “Please don’t be mad.” You quickly added once you realised neither of your parents were talking.

“Pumpkin, we know.” Your papa smiled at you.

“You do?”

“Of course. Why do you think you have to keep your bedroom door open when she’s over? Or that she has to sleep in the guest room for sleepovers?” Oh. You never thought about that.

“Why would we be mad?”

“I don’t know. I guess because I won’t give you grandkids?”

“You can have a baby another way. I’m sure if and when the time comes, you will give us the most perfect grandchildren.” Your mami wiped your tears. She was wrong though.

As the years progressed, so did your relationship with Leah. Throughout the final two years of highschool you were an anchor to each other. When your mami was diagnosed with breast cancer, she was there.

When your mami died eighteen months later, she was there. Holding you on the hospital floor as you sobbed so hard you made yourself sick. The entire time Leah was by your side, refusing to leave, letting you cry into her until you passed out.

At twenty, Leah proposed in the country side of England. Without hesitation you tackled her to the ground repeatedly saying yes. You were going to marry the woman of your dreams.

It felt like a dream, telling your friends and family, throwing an engagement party, having everyone congratulate you. Never in a million years did you expect for this to happen.

Thanks to the inheritance you received from your mami, you were able to buy a house big enough for you and Leah, maybe a few kids down the line. It wasn’t the biggest or fanciest house, but it was yours. It felt and smelt like home.

After being engaged for two years, you had set a date. The wedding was everything you and Leah had dreamed of. Her teammates from throughout the years, high school friends and your family from Spain were all in attendance. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in either of your minds.

After the reception, you and Leah were able to sneak away for a few quiet moments.

“You look so beautiful.” She said as she wrapped her arms around your waist.

“So do you. I love you.” Your hand ran along her jaw as you took in the way she looked. Wanting to savour this moment forever.

“I want to have a baby.” You were slightly taken aback with her serious tone but agreed straight away.

Almost as soon as the honeymoon was over, the fertility treatments started. It didn’t take long, your second try, and you were pregnant. The pregnancy was a dream, you had limited morning sickness and no stretch marks. You and Leah were in heaven. But then the world shut down.

The COVID-19 restrictions awoke something inside of you. The feeling of missing your home country, the people who helped run the foundation and your mamis best friend, Marisol. You longed to go back to Spain, but with Leah’s football career kicking off you knew it wasn’t a possibility.

The birth of your first child, a boy called Oscar, was something so magical and beautiful. You laboured at home with Leah for as long as you could, she was there doing whatever she could. Getting ice, massaging your lower back, swaying with you. You name it, Leah did it.

After 49 hours, Oscar came into the world screaming incredibly loudly. As soon as he was put on your chest, both you and Leah burst into tears.

Oscar was a dream baby. For a while it was just the three of you. While it was completely exhausting, it was worth it. You and Leah had created the most perfect little boy. You were happy with the life you created but you still longed to return home.

It was harder to run the foundation from England then you anticipated. Marisol was taking care of the Spanish part of it, your dad looking after Germany and Switzerland. The UK was on you. Everything would go perfectly and then, in a blink of an eye, things would fall apart.

Cracks started to appear in your marriage too. Leah was in the prime of her life, travelling all over for football, but you were stuck. Oscar was in nursery throughout the day when you worked but you couldn’t help but feel empty.

Leah was coming home later, sometimes close to midnight. The sex had dwindled to maybe once a fortnight if you were lucky. You were the one that did everything. The laundry, house cleaning, paid all the bills, took Oscar to swimming and little kickers, read his bed night stories. It was as if you were a single parent.

Then you noticed the signs. The change of the her phone password, no more flaunting you on social media, inviting you to team events. She made it seem like she was single.

Oscar was only fourteen months old. You could see the future you hoped for disappear in a flash. Amanda, Leah’s mum, had taken Oscar for the night. It was supposed to be your date night.

But as you sat there in the couch, heels thrown off near the door, dress started to feel constrictive, you realised that Leah wasn’t coming home.

It was well past midnight when Leah came in. smelling like alcohol and someone else’s perfume.

“Where have you been?” You asked, anger evident in your voice.

“Out with mum.” She couldn’t even lie properly.

“That’s a lie.” You said as you stood up, “your mum has Oscar. He’s been there since 3pm.” You watched her reaction. You walked closer to her, wanting her to know how serious you were, “I don’t care who she is. If you keep seeing her, we are done. Oscar and I will go back to Spain.”

“Babe-“

“No.” You put your hand up to stop her, “it’s us or her. You decide.”

She chose your family. You never asked who the girl was, you suspected, but it was never confirmed. You made her go to therapy, then for you both to go to marriage counselling. You worked hard to regain trust and Leah proved to you again why you loved her.

It took six months but then stupidly you agreed to a second baby. For the first two trimesters Leah was there. Helping more with Oscar, doing house work, taking you out on dates and being the loving wife you knew she was.

As you were nearing your final month of pregnancy, things were getting harder. Leah was barely around, the love you once shared seemed to be a distance memory. Most nights you cried yourself to sleep, hand in your belly as you did so.

You needed help, Leah would have excuse after excuse so you hired a nanny. Isobel was from Spain too, spending the year studying in London. She was perfect, you were able to speak your mother language to her, Oscar picked it up quickly too.

It was a relief. To have the help with Oscar and household chores. You got to focus on the last few days of work before you went on maternity leave. The due date of your daughter was approaching fast, as was Christmas.

The Christmas market was a favourite of yours. The light snow dusted the ground, the smell of cinnamon and hot chocolate filled the air. Oscar looked so cute in his winter suit with his gloves and hat, and there was Leah. Looking as beautiful as you remembered.

You felt giddy like a children when she told you she’d be joining the two of you tonight. This would probably be your last outing as a family of three. By the time you were at home in bed, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You were incredibly happy that your family was slowly coming back together.

It didn’t last long though. On December 21st, you sat at home on the couch. Oscar was already in bed asleep and the time was nearing 8.30pm. All day you had been having slight contractions, but the sharp pain that ripped across your stomach was nothing you’d ever felt before.

Something was very wrong.

You tried ringing Leah. Over and over again. But each time she declined the call. You texted and she left you on read. The final text message you sent that she did reply to broke your heart.

You: somethings wrong Leah. I’m bleeding and the pain is horrible.

Leah: what do you want me to do about it?”

You: I need to go to the hospital. Oscar is asleep.

Leah: call an uber or something. Idk.

The anger you felt was very quickly replaced with fear. Your two and a half year old son was sleeping upstairs, your wife was being a bitch and there was no other option than to call for an ambulance.

So that’s what you did. First you rang Amanda, Leah’s mum, then you rang an ambulance. As you potted around the loungeroom, blood was dropping onto the floor. You knew it needed to be cleaned before Oscar woke up otherwise he would freak out.

Thankfully, Amanda arrived quickly and so did the ambulance.

“Leah’s not coming. Please stay with Oscar.” You begged her as they loaded you up. Something flashed across Amanda’s face, probably anger and disappointment in her daughter but at that moment all you could focus on was your own daughter.

Somewhere along the way you rang your dad and Marisol begging them to come as fast as they could. They tried but ultimately you gave birth to your beautiful daughter alone, at 4.44am.

You were exhausted and didn’t even bother looking at your phone, missing the millions of instagram notifications until it was too late.

Marisol was the first to get to the hospital, meeting your daughter, Amelia, a mere 45 minutes after she was born. She told you how proud she was of you, how you did such a good job and you couldn’t help but cry.

Since your mami had died, Marisol took over that role. She was your mamis best friend, your godmother, one of the best people you knew. After a few hours and minimal sleep, you decided to message Leah. Letting her know that her daughter had been born.

Before you could though you were overwhelmed with the amount of notifications on your phone. As you clicked on one, it lead you to the comments section of an instagram post.

A post that contained your wife and a teammate. Kissing. At the same Christmas markets you took your son to a few days prior. You couldn’t stop the sob that came out of your mouth. Both your dad and Marisol stopping what that were doing immediately.

“What’s wrong!”

“Is something hurting?”

“Leah-“ was all you were able to get out, shoving your phone into Marisol’s hand. Their hearts broke for you, less than 10 hours after giving birth you found out your wife was cheating on you.

It started to make sense. The distance, the late nights and early mornings, the way she separated herself. It made you nauseous. Was she cheating when she begged for a second kid? Did she fuck someone in the house you lived in together? In your bed?

Before you had the chance to completely spiral, Oscar ran into the room. Excited to meet his baby sister and see his mama. There was a look of anger on Jacob’s face when he walked in and saw Leah still wasn’t there.

For an hour they kept up appearances but then you politely asked everyone but Amanda to leave.

“Leah cheated on me. I don’t know details, and I don’t want to know details but I want all of her stuff out of my house by the time I’m home.”

Amanda was confused so you took the liberty to show her the photos. Confusion turned into anger. She called her own family to organise the removal of Leah’s belongings, your dad took the chance to call a locksmith.

If or when Leah decided to return to the family home she would find all of the locks changed and her belongings at her mother’s.

You were good in a crisis. Level headed and calm, always the first point of call when something went wrong with the foundation and this was no different. The crisis was now your life and you had to fix it.

Christmas was a good distraction, Leah had attempted to reach out, to promise it was a mistake, a one time thing. but the wound had been created and she couldn’t fix it now.

Over new years Oscar struggled. You all did. thankfully your dad and Marisol hung around for as long as they could.

Leah had only met Amelia twice. By the second time she didn’t seem interested at all. As if this baby was just a burden to her. Amanda visited often, as did Jacob. One night you decided to break the news to them. Oscar was already passed out in bed and Amelia was asleep in the bassinet.

“I’m moving back to Spain. The kids will obviously be coming too. I’m selling the house.”

“What about Leah?” Amanda asked.

“She can see the kids whenever she likes. I won’t keep them from her. However in the last week she hasn’t reached out at all.”

“That’s it? You’re giving up?” Jacob asked, raising his voice.

“There’s nothing to give up on Jake. She cheated, she ruined this family. Not me. I gave birth alone, I have been raising our son alone.”

“Have you told her?”

“I tried. She left my message on read. I sent in the divorce papers, I don’t want any money from her, I don’t want to fight over this but I will if I have to.”

Amanda let a few tears slip before she spoke up, “you deserve better.”

“Mum!”

“No jacob she does. Leah broke this family, Leah left her wife alone to give birth, she went out to a public place and snogged a teammate. You can love your sister but this, this is her fault. Y/n, I will support you through this. You’re a wonderful mother, both those kids are incredibly lucky to have you.” You cried as she hugged you goodbye, the chapter was closing and while it is what you wanted, you felt incredibly heartbroken.

Leah fought the divorce. It was ugly and it was messy. The prenup prevented either of you from getting each other’s money, you would keep the house. The judge agreed that sole custody would reside with you for the mean time and in a year it would be revisited.

The alienation started almost immediately. Leah would tell Oscar it was you that broke up the family, that you were taking him away from her. Never once did you correct her, there was no way you wanted to mess up his toddler mind more than it already was.

Spain was a breath of fresh air. You had reached out to Isobel, explaining most of what had happened and said if she was to find herself in Barcelona anytime soon, you’d happily hire her again.

Oscar settled into his new daycare easily, at home he wasn’t so settled. You tried to be understanding, but it was so incredibly hard. Your marriage was over, your soon to be ex wife was alienating your son, the friends you shared with her slowly stopped reaching out.

Once your maternity leave ended, you threw yourself into the foundation. Wanting to make it grow, fix everything you could.

The idea of a compound came to you in the middle of the night. Amelia was teething and as you sat there comforting her you thought about all the teen parents doing the best they could. Fostering teenagers wasn’t something many people did, so foster a teenager who had a baby was even more limited.

You drew up a rough plan, something to discuss with Marisol later in the day. It consisted of an apartment style complex, 6 or 7 houses, 1 and 2 bedroom apartments with one on the end for a caregiver.

When you bought the idea up with Marisol and Miriam, the manager of the under 10s portfolio, they were on board immediately. It wouldn’t be easy to pull off but you were sure you could do it.

While you threw yourself into work to get over the heartbreak, Leah threw herself into the beds of other women. No matter how hard to tried to avoid it, there was pictures and comments plastered on the internet.

Oscars behaviour was getting worse. After every phone call, every quick visit, he would come back rude and mean. You knew he was struggling but you also knew that he couldn’t talk to people like that. Leah refused to help, she claimed he was the perfect child for her and this was all your fault.

As the months pushed on, you worked tirelessly to began this project and when it started, you couldn’t help but shed some happy tears. All the extra hours you put in once the kids were asleep was finally going to pay off.

When Leah tore her ACL you were conflicted. On one hand you were sad she wouldn’t be able to captain her team in the World Cup, but on the other hand she would be able to be move present in your children’s lives.

Her relationship with the now five month old Amelia, was practically nonexistent. You weren’t breastfeeding, finding that it was causing you more stress than it was worth. When offered to have her over night, Leah would straight up refuse. It was getting to a point that was concerning to you. At no point did you want your daughter to grow up feeling less Love from her own mother.

Oscar’s third birthday was fast approaching. Leah, who had done her knee, wouldn’t be attending the pre-world cup camps. Her family and yours would come together in Spain and celebrate him. As much as it hurt seeing her and her family, you had to swallow your own feelings to put Oscar first.

He loved every second of it, all the attention, the food, the love. It had been a while since he had been that happy. As the day came to a close, Jacob and Oscar were outside on the trampoline, Marisol and Amanda were pottering around tidying up and you had just put Amelia to sleep when Leah came up behind you.

“I miss you.” She whispered, learning up against the door frame.

“Leah-“

“No I do. I know I fucked up but I want to fix it. I love you, only you.” She looked at you like you hung the moon, as much as you still loved Leah, you couldn’t do that to yourself.

“I can’t Leah. You cheated on me, left me to have a baby alone. I know you’re sad and scared and whatever but I’m not the person to find comfort in. I’m sorry.” You tried to push past but she grabbed on your arm. In an instant her mouth was on yours, kissing you.

For a moment you let yourself melt into it. Forgetting what it was like to be kissed by here but then you realised what was happening and pushed her off. “Leah no.” It’s all you could muster before you headed back outside to collect Oscar.

After that night, something in Leah switched. She started to be more cruel, not just to you but everyone around.

You tried to co parent with her, but ultimately you had to take her back to court and get help. From that point on, all communication went through a parenting app. The lawyers and court could read it all and see what was being said.

The worst part of it all was watching the fallout on social media. Leah’s fans were coming for your throat. Everything was your fault, it didn’t matter that she cheated, that she ruined your family. To them, their favourite captain could so no wrong.

things changed when you met alexia. You were scared, nervous but mostly excited.

#leah williamson imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #arsenal fc #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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vamptizm · 1 month ago

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i love my whitie blonde 2025 champions

#paige bueckers #leah williamson #dallas wings #arsenal wfc

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mapiforpresident · 23 days ago

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could i please request: leah williamson x single mom reader ( to like a 1 year old) maybe they meet at a cafe and r and leah go on some dates and on one date r is in the middle of telling leah about her daughter “ i have something really important to tell you, i understand if you want to end whatever we have right now when you find out” when she gets a call from the babysitter that her daughter won’t stop crying and she has to go home, so she panics and says she needs to go home so leah offers to drive her and when they get there r just hops out of the car and runs inside leaving the door open so leah slowly walks in behind her and sees her and her daughter

btw i love your writing!

what we don’t say

leah x reader

warnings: daughter

~~~

You didn’t expect much from the coffee shop that day. Just caffeine. A little quiet. Maybe five whole minutes without someone wiping their nose on your shirt or throwing puffs across the floor like confetti.

You loved her. God, you loved her more than anything. But being a single mum to a one-year-old? Exhausting didn’t even begin to cover it.

So yeah, coffee. That’s all you came for.

And then Leah Williamson held the door open for you.

You barely looked up, too busy juggling your bag, your keys, and a sippy cup that somehow always leaked. But she smiled. One of those soft, knowing ones. The kind that didn’t feel performative, just kind.

You smiled back because, well. Have you seen her?

She held the door. Let you go ahead. And then, somehow, ended up behind you in line. And then beside you while you waited. And then leaning in with a little laugh to say, “Don’t worry, I always panic at the till too.”

And maybe you laughed a little too loudly. Or maybe she just liked your laugh. Either way, she asked if she could sit with you. And you said yes before your brain caught up with your mouth.

You didn’t tell her anything real that day. Not your last name. Not what your life looked like. Just that you were tired and the coffee helped and the weather had been a bit shit lately.

She didn’t ask much.

She just made you laugh. And you let yourself feel normal for twenty whole minutes.

That should’ve been it. A one-off thing. A cute story you never told anyone.

But then she showed up again.

And again.

And suddenly you were texting. Grinning like a fool when her name popped up. Going on walks that turned into lunch. Lunches that turned into “You’re actually really easy to talk to.”

You never meant to let it get this far. You never meant to feel this much.

But she made it so easy.

By the time your third official date rolled around, you knew you had to say something.

You’d been putting it off. Convincing yourself it wasn’t the right time. That it was too soon. That she’d run. That she’d hear the word daughter and suddenly remember she left the oven on.

But she was sitting across from you in that quiet little pub, her eyes soft, her fingers brushing yours over the table like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

And you knew you had to say it.

“I have something I need to tell you,” you said, voice a little too stiff.

Her brows furrowed just slightly, but she didn’t let go of your hand.

“I don’t want to scare you off,” you added quickly. “But I also can’t keep this from you. And I get it if you want to end this once you know. I really do.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but then—

Your phone buzzed.

Loud against the wood of the table.

You glanced down. One look at the name and your stomach dropped.

It was your sitter.

You picked up immediately. “Hey, everything okay?”

The answer was no.

“She won’t stop crying,” your sitter said. “I’ve tried milk, I’ve changed her, I rocked her, everything. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Your heart was already pounding. “I’m on my way.”

You hung up without explaining. Stood up too fast. Grabbed your coat and your phone and—

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Leah stood too, her hand on your arm. “Is everything alright?”

You hesitated. “My daughter, my babysitter called, she’s inconsolable and I just, I have to go.”

You didn’t mean to say daughter like that. Like you were dropping a bomb. Like you were bracing for impact.

But you were. Because now she knew.

You didn’t even give her time to respond before you were turning to leave.

“I’ll drive you,” Leah said quickly.

You froze.

“What?”

“Let me drive you. You’re shaking. You’re not going to focus if you’re behind the wheel.”

You looked at her, really looked at her, and her face wasn’t full of judgment. Or panic. Or that polite smile people use when they’re already thinking of their exit.

She just looked worried.

She just looked like she wanted to help.

You barely spoke in the car.

Leah didn’t push. Just kept her hand steady on the wheel, glancing over every now and then to make sure you were okay. She didn’t ask about your daughter. Didn’t ask why you’d never mentioned her. Just drove, quiet and steady.

When she pulled up to your place, you barely managed to say thank you before you were already out the door.

You didn’t even shut it behind you.

Leah got out slowly, unsure if she should follow. The door was still open, and the panic in your eyes was still fresh in her mind.

So she stepped inside.

And there you were.

In the middle of your small living room, down on your knees, holding a wailing little girl to your chest. Rocking back and forth with your eyes squeezed shut and your voice whispering “shh, shh, mummy’s here, it’s okay now.”

Leah froze in the doorway.

You didn’t notice her at first. Too focused. Too overwhelmed. Too caught in that instinct that only comes when someone’s whole world is crying in your arms.

But when your daughter’s cries started to soften, when her fingers clutched the fabric of your shirt and her head tucked into your neck, you finally looked up.

And Leah was still there.

Quiet. Hesitant. But still there.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” you said softly.

Leah stepped forward, just a bit. Her eyes locked on the little girl now hiccuping against your chest. “She’s beautiful.”

You blinked. “You’re not… freaked out?”

She smiled, small and genuine. “A little surprised. Not freaked out.”

You shifted, one arm still cradling your daughter. “I was going to tell you tonight. Before the call. I just… didn’t want to scare you off.”

Leah took another step. “She’s your daughter. That’s not scary. That’s honestly kind of amazing.”

You blinked again. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said, then crouched a little so she wasn’t towering over you both. “And now I get why you always smell like baby wipes.”

You laughed, soft and surprised, and your daughter stirred a little, her sleepy eyes cracking open to look at the new person in the room.

Leah smiled at her. “Hey, sweetheart.”

And your daughter… smiled back.

Small. Wobbly. But real.

And you felt something shift in your chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Leah said quietly, eyes still on your daughter. “If you’ll let me stay.”

You swallowed hard.

And nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I think I’d like that.”

And maybe it wasn’t how you planned it.

But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly how it was meant to happen.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal women #leah williamson #woso fanfics #leah williamson x reader #arsenal x reader #woso imagines #woso fic

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gpcwsl · 5 months ago

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Could you do a Leah Williamson one where reader is a chef and has restaurant establishments worldwide and just located one in England a couple months ago and the England girls are a having a camp in London and since everyone is all together for camp they want to celebrate with a fancy dinner and they start discussing restaurants and readers restaurant is put out there, but some of the girls disagree because they tried to eat there but it was always booked up, so when Leah gets home she talks to reader and gets them a table, so Leah texts the team gc and say dress fancy tomorrow night and the location of the restaurant and the gc starts blowing, but she ignores it, and when they all go to the restaurant and ask questions and Leah’s like she has connections, but come to find out that Leah is dating reader then reader sits down beside Leah and the team gets to know her a little and when they go to pay reader says it’s already taken care of.

Warnings: a kiss?

Leah Williamson x Chef!Reader

- Dress fancy -

MasterList

Leah Williamson kicked her boots off at the door, the satisfying thud against the floor signaling the end of another long day. Training had been intense, but it wasn’t the drills or tactics replaying in her mind—it was the chaotic group chat blowing up her phone during the drive home.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen, scrolling through dozens of messages.

Tooney: “We should go to that new restaurant tomorrow.”

Brightness: “What’s it called? The fancy one that’s always booked?”

Backheel: “You mean Palace Place? Impossible. I’ve been trying to get a table since it opened.”

Brightness: “Same. That place is like gold dust.”

Tooney: “We need something special, though. We’re all together. Ideas?”

Leah smirked, leaning against the kitchen counter as she typed her response:

Captain: “Sorted. 7 PM tomorrow. Dress fancy.”

The chat exploded.

Tooney: “LEAH.”

Backheel: “How?!”

Brightness: “You didn’t even say where!”

Walshy: “She probably means Nando’s.”

Tooney: “I swear, if this is a joke…”

Leah tossed her phone on the counter, ignoring the continued barrage of messages, and walked into the living room. The soft hum of classical music filtered through the space, and the faint aroma of roasted garlic and herbs greeted her.

“Smells amazing,” she called, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

You stood by the stove, dressed casually in an apron, hair tied back, moving with the kind of effortless grace Leah never tired of watching. You glanced over your shoulder, a smile already forming.

“Hey, you. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Leah walked up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it. Training kills me, and you’re here cooking like it’s nothing.”

“Years of practice,” you teased, leaning back into her embrace. “How was camp?”

Leah hesitated, her lips brushing lightly against your temple. “Good. The girls want to go out tomorrow night. Celebrate being all together.”

You turned in her arms, raising an eyebrow. “And let me guess, they want to go somewhere fancy?”

She grinned. “They were debating places, and your restaurant came up.”

“Did it now?” you asked, amusement coloring your tone. “And what did you say?”

“I didn’t.” Leah shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Didn’t want to out myself as having an in with the chef-owner who happens to be my girlfriend.”

You laughed softly, running a hand down her arm. “So you’re here to use your connections?”

“Obviously,” Leah said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “Any chance you can fit us in tomorrow?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “For you? Always. How many?”

“About 20.”

You blinked. “20?”

Leah winced. “Yeah… full squad.”

“Good thing I like you,” you teased, reaching for your phone to call the restaurant.

Leah sent the address to the group chat in the morning, and as expected, chaos ensued.

Tooney: “No way. THE Palace place?!”

Backheel: “Leah, I’m actually screaming.”

Daily mail: “I tried booking for my mum’s birthday and couldn’t. HOW?”

Brightness: “She must know someone.”

Tooney: “Leah Williamson: captain, legend, and apparently a magician.”

Leah ignored it all, casually walking into the training facility as if her phone wasn’t buzzing nonstop in her pocket.

The team arrived promptly at 7 PM, dressed to impress. The restaurant was stunning, its interior sleek yet inviting, with warm lighting that made everything glow. They were escorted to a private dining room where a long table awaited, set with pristine white linens, sparkling glassware, and fresh flowers.

“This is insane,” Ella muttered, taking in the surroundings.

“How did you pull this off?” Millie asked Leah, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Leah smirked, leaning back in her chair. “I told you. Connections.”

The team was halfway through the meal—an exquisite multi-course experience—when the door to the dining room opened. You walked in, your chef’s jacket pristine, a warm smile on your face.

“Good evening, ladies,” you greeted.

The table fell silent, all eyes turning to you. Leah tried to suppress a grin as you approached.

“Everything to your liking so far?” you asked, your gaze briefly meeting Leah’s.

“The food’s incredible,” Keira said. “Are you the chef?”

You nodded. “And the owner.”

Murmurs of amazement rippled through the group.

Leah cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. “Everyone, this is Y/n.”

“Wait…” Rachel’s eyes darted between you and Leah. “This is your connection?”

Leah shrugged, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I know people.”

“Hold on.” Ella leaned forward, pointing at Leah. “You’re dating the chef?!”

Leah’s smirk widened. “Didn’t think it was relevant.”

The table erupted in laughter, teasing, and a flurry of questions directed at you.

When the bill arrived, one of the players reached for it, but the waiter quickly informed them it had already been settled.

“It’s on me,” you said with a smile, standing beside Leah. “You’re all family to Leah, which makes you family to me.”

The team groaned, joking about being spoiled, but their gratitude was evident.

As everyone filtered out of the restaurant, Leah lingered by the door with you, her hand slipping into yours.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth.

You leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Anything for you.”

The team’s laughter echoed down the street, and Leah pulled you closer, her heart full as she watched her two worlds collide perfectly.

#arsenal women #woso community #arsenal #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso #wlw community #wlw post #wlw yearning #chefs kiss #women’s football

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randombush3 · 16 days ago

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a sweet and tender hooligan

leah williamson x reader

summary: you meet leah in a VIP bar and can't decide what to do with her

words: 3545

content warnings: recreational drug usage

notes: i never write for leah but it felt apt. there's a second part planned. i quite like this fic so i hope u do too

and thanks @p0orbaby for holding my hand through writing this xx

You’re so bored.

No one ever really talks about the patience it takes back-stage at Glastonbury. Or maybe they do, and you just ignore it, forever clawing at the need to be original.

You can’t really warm your voice up any more, you’re wearing your chosen stage outfit, and you’re sitting on a flight case. You feel like a little girl, swinging your legs about and hoping you don’t accidentally roll onto stage and ruin the set of the artist two heads in front of you in the line-up.

You could smoke, but you can’t do that here. You could go and snort cocaine with the rest of your team. You could pick up the guitar lying in its open case on the floor beside you. You could run laps around the muddy fields in your Docs, proudly putting them to use as though they don’t live at the foot of a clothing rack with the rest of your costumes. It’s still part of my aesthetic, you would tell your stylist, as if real mud doesn’t ruin the ‘cool and nonchalant’ thing you’ve got going on.

As if you didn’t spend most of your childhood in the dining rooms of important people or at Evensong services in one of the Oxbridge colleges.

In a state of inertia – because even though you could do anything you wanted to, you won’t – it is very easy to be excited by the familiar voice calling your name from the other side of a large smoke machine that will be wheeled out behind you when you eventually get to perform.

“Babe,” sings the voice with its inherent boisterousness. “You’ve got two hours to go. That’s at least three drinks.”

You don’t grace her with eye contact just yet, still contemplating your state of self-pity.

“Drinks,” Jess says again, more insistent. “Now. Come meet my girlfriend!”

The case rolls backwards with a low rumble as you hop off it, feet landing precariously between thick cables. “I’ve met your girlfriend already, Jess.”

She grabs your wrist and drags you along with her anyway. You let her, whisked through the semi-organised chaos of the VIP corridor – past handlers, stylists, and an ex-boybander deep-throating a Calippo. Orange, naturally. You try not to smirk. It’s Glasto, after all. No one is above anything here. Not even you.

The VIP bar is tucked just behind the main stage, buzzing with poorly-veiled networking and celebrities who aren’t sure where they stand amongst the spattering of artists who are internally crippling with nervousness. Everything smells like stale cider and cigarettes, although neither you nor Jess wrinkle your noses at it. A few heads turn at your appearance, but you don’t pay it much attention.

Alex Scott is already holding court at a picnic bench strewn with empty plastic cups, sunglasses, and a large plate of loaded fries that look cold and soggy. Perhaps she had been waiting for her girlfriend to return – perhaps it is your fault her food is ruined.

She stands when she sees Jess, arms thrown around her in a way that makes you smile, despite yourself. There’s real warmth there. Unforced. You don’t envy it, but you award them a certain level of respect.

“Hiya,” Alex says to you, flashing that pearly grin. She reaches out a hand, placing it on your bicep. She knows you don’t like hugs. “You’re up soon, yeah? Big set.”

You shrug like it’s nothing. “Same as last year.”

She laughs. Alex likes your cockiness. Finds it effortless. “Far too smooth.” She places a limp chip in her mouth, humming in delight for a reason lost on you. “Ready to party with us afterwards?”

“I know we’re not your preferred crowd,” Jess teases. “Seeing as neither of us are an option for you to fuck and then ghost in the morning.”

“Don’t sound so jealous,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

Jess snorts, pleased with herself, while Alex shakes her head. She’s used to this particular brand of cattiness.

“Actually,” she says, glancing past Jess, “we’ve got someone new in our little VIP girl gang today. Sort of a plus one.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you adopt someone?”

“Basically,” Jess says, stepping sideways to make space for a bobbing blonde head that is meandering towards the picnic bench.

And that’s when you see her.

She’s a footballer. You know her name. You’re sure of it.

“This is Leah,” Alex says when the blonde reaches her destination. Leah leans against the back of the bench in that way footballers must spend ridiculous amounts of time mastering in the mirror – loose-limbed, confident, wearing baggy denim and a tank top that rides up enough to hint at her toned stomach. Her eyes are shadowed behind shades, but she lifts them now, peering at you over the top.

“Leah knows who you are.” Alex punches her girlfriend’s arm. “What? That’s quite a normal thing! She’s used to it.”

Leah smiles. It doesn’t hide her slight apprehension, but you’re used to that, too.

“I like your dad’s music.”

The air stills, just for a second. You blink at her.

It’s not the worst thing someone could say. It’s not even surprising. But it is lazy.

Jess winces in slow motion beside you, and even Alex seems to pause her slow consumption of the soggy chips for a beat too long.

Clearly not an idiot, Leah clocks the tension. “I mean… I like your music too. Obviously. That’s why–” She shrugs, trailing off. “Sorry. Shit opening line.”

You don’t reply. Not verbally, anyway. She suffers in your silence and it’s a satisfying compensation for the can of worms she has unintentionally opened. Your head tilts slightly to one side, gaze narrowing, curiosity blending with amusement. And maybe something sharper.

“I’ve had worse,” you offer, just before she is about to suffocate.

“Have you?” she asks, with that footballer grin (Alex is good at it too) – the one that suggests she wins things for a living and isn’t afraid of getting mud on her knees.

“Someone once said I reminded them of Lana Del Rey. But with ADHD.” You look at Jess; “Or did they say coked up?” She snorts her drink.

“I mean, I see it,” Leah says, eyes glinting behind the tinted lenses, pushed arrogantly back up her nose as if you don’t all know that she’s probably just shielding herself from her hangover. “Angsty but feral.”

“Oh my god,” Alex mutters. “Leah. Inside voice.”

But you laugh. Soft. Unexpected. The first real laugh you’ve given anyone all day. She beams, as though she knows that, and you don’t plan to figure out the sudden clarity in your vision before your set.

“So,” Leah says, casually looping her arms across the back of the bench. “Do we get a preview? Or do I have to stand in a field jam-packed with strangers and pretend I’m not sweating my tits off waiting for you to start?”

“What makes you special, Leah?” you ask, voice steady and innocent. Her indignance is the last thing you see before someone from your team (you had felt a demon sneaking up on you) pulls you away, back to your cage in the VIP corridor.

The encounter, while intriguing, does not quite satiate your need for excitement, and with an hour left on the clock, you have nothing better to do than give in.

Your greenroom is full, bustling with the joy of getting to exist here without the pressure of performing. You don’t share that privilege but you do like being a dancing monkey and so you let them get away with it.

Almost every surface is littered with cigarette butts and energy drinks, empty bottles of champagne and tequila lined up neatly against the make-shift walls.The coffee table in the centre of the room is the hearth, grounding everyone in a relative circle around it. The familiar sight of white powder being diligently scraped into lines is comforting — at least this year is no different.

Like always, your presence is noticed in the room. Most of these people are glorified groupies, anyway. Apart from the head that stays level with the table. A head you know very well.

“Cecily, what would Mummy say if I let you do coke backstage?” The room goes silent out of respect for your voice, but it feels stilted and forced. Your half-sister looks up at you only when she has finished her line.

“She doesn’t know I’m here.” You frown. Neither did you. “Daddy said not to tell her. Said that she’d worry.”

“She would!”

“She’s a hypocrite,” Cecily replies with a whine in her voice that no amount of maturity will ever rid her of. “What was she doing when she was twenty-one?”

You wince.

You know what’s coming. Everyone knows what’s coming.

Perhaps that is why she never gets the chance to make the comparison, because someone swoops in (you really should learn these people’s names) and rescues the mood: “I think we should head into soundcheck.”

You pretend not to hear the collectively exhaled sigh of relief.

It’s so much sweatier backstage now. The sound engineer is fussing over the guitar amps and a scratchy undertone of feedback. Your manager’s assistant is standing to attention, holding a Lemsip in her hands in case you want some. Your stylist is moaning about the dirt on your shoes.

No one talks to you. They know that the last thirty minutes before it’s time are yours. Your silence, your thoughts. Your preparation.

You shed the layers of yourself that aren’t the woman that is going to appear on the stage. You quell the niggling doubt that whispers that you’re not good enough.

…

“You were fucking amazing!” Jess shouts in your ear as you appear in the VIP bar once again. Now, your hair is twisted back, glitter brushed into it by your relentless younger sister, the same colour smudged on your eyelids. Your clothes are fresh – a tight skirt, old shirt, wellies. Something that makes you look chic. Refined enough to be worth the school fees. Ready for a festival, even if there are only a few hours left of tonight’s live music.

You smile because you’re used to this. The compliments, the attention, the sweaty half-sincere praise from people who watched you from behind tinted lenses and forgot to clap. It’s fine. You didn’t do it for them. You did it because you like the power of watching a crowd swell and bend beneath you.

“Thank you,” you say, reaching for the lukewarm drink someone hands you. You don’t check who or what, simply taking a sip and letting your mouth scrunch into a grimace. Whiskey. You hate whiskey.

“You looked like a fucking rockstar,” Jess continues, buzzing with the kind of energy that always makes you tired. “Like, everyone’s obsessed with you. Even Leah said–”

You hold up a finger. “Don’t ruin it.”

“How was she supposed to know–”

“She wasn’t,” you grant your friend. You shrug. “But she’s annoying. You know I hate footballers.”

“You like Alex.”

“She’s retired.” Your sigh is deep, drenched with the exhaustion of performing. “What’s the deal with her, anyway? Is she Alex’s friend? Here on a sponsorship deal?”

“I thought you found her annoying.” Jess raises an eyebrow, catching you out with the ease that only someone who’s seen you at your worst can manage. With a profound lack of subtly, she gestures to where Leah is standing at the bar, engaged in an animated conversation with Cecily, of all people.

You roll your eyes. “I do. But I’m curious as to which brand of annoying she is.”

“She’s not with sponsors,” Jess says, grinning now like she knows something you don’t. “She’s just here. A civilian, apparently.”

“Doesn’t exist.” The speed of your response makes her laugh, but she gets it: no one’s a civilian in the VIP bar.

Jess shrugs, sitting into her hip like she’s bored of your cynicism. “She came with Alex. Something about needing a break before the Euros. I don’t know. She’s nice.”

“She’s a defender, isn’t she?”

Your friend looks vaguely impressed. “Look at you pretending not to know who she is.”

“I only know because she did that weird hand-ball thingie in that final. I can’t remember when, but Stephen was shouting so loudly at the TV that Cec and I literally left the house.” Your stepfather doesn’t care much for football but a fellow producer (younger and therefore naturally woke) had called him a bigot for abstaining from women’s sports and so he had no choice. Apparently it’s the second sport at Westminster, though. They used to thrash Eton.

You sip the whiskey again, just to punish yourself.

“She’s hot though,” Jess offers, too lightly. And she has a girlfriend, so there really is only one hint she could be giving. You’re not taking her bait.

There’s a beat between you. Your eyes dart over to the enthralling chat Leah and Cec seem to be having. Jess is smirking.

“I’ve seen that look before,” she says.

You scoff. “The one with blinking and open eyes?”

“No.” You wonder if Jess ever tires of your tendency to irritate the fuck out of her. “The look you gave her back at the picnic bench.”

You pull your face into something as neutral as possible. Unimpressed, even. “She said she liked my dad’s music.”

“Well, he was in The Smiths. Pretty sure lots of people do.” Jess is far too reasonable for her level of drunkenness.

“Yeah, but as an introductory statement? It was basically a hate crime.”

“And yet you laughed. I was there. I saw it.”

You let the moment hang. Let Jess think she’s right. Then: “It was politeness.”

“Politeness?” Jess is openly laughing now. You wish Alex would return from whatever adventure she has embarked on and save you from her insufferable girlfriend. “You’re never polite. You told Victoria Beckham her boots looked like bin bags.”

“They did.” You sigh, gaze drifting lazily across the bar. Of course, it lands on Leah.

She’s still there. Still talking to Cecily, now joined by two other vaguely familiar faces – some actor, maybe, and a girl who used to date someone who used to date you. Leah’s smile is easy. Careless. But you’re not an idiot and you know performative charm when you see it. You invented it.

As if sensing your attention, she glances over.

Your eyes meet.

She holds it, just long enough to be cocky. Just long enough to challenge you. Before you look away in repulsion, she raises a brow: are you going to talk to me or just stare all night?

The whiskey finally hits your bloodstream.

“She’s looking at you,” Jess says, entirely unhelpful.

“No, she’s not.”

“She is.”

“Fine,” you sigh, already bored of yourself. “I’ll just pop over there and make sure Cecily hasn’t invited her to the family Christmas.”

Jess clinks her drink against yours as you step away. “Be nice.” She remembers who she’s speaking to, laughing at her own words. “Or don’t. Just don’t shag her in a Portaloo.”

You glare at her. “That was one time.”

She shrugs. “I still don’t understand the mechanics of it.”

It’s something you have refused to explain to her time and time again. She knows the scar GCSE Physics left on you, and therefore should know better, but a defining feature of your friendship with Jess is her incessant over-stepping and your forgiving nature. (Here, you tell a lie – you don’t forgive her, you just gave up on chiding her.) Anywho, the best way to avoid denying her of her mythology story-time is to get on with interrupting Leah and your sister.

The conversation stops when you approach, Leah’s voice dying in her throat, her sentence doomed to be unfinished. The four of them – actor and ex’s ex both staring gormlessly – seem to wait for you to announce what you have deemed important enough to grace them with.

You fix your eyes on Leah. “I hope Cec hasn’t bored you with the logistics of maintaining an eating disorder.”

Cecily doesn’t even blink. “You’re just jealous that I’ve walked runways and you haven’t.”

“Not at all,” you murmur, gaze unwavering.

The actor, aggressively toothy in a leather waistcoat, sporting a generic face you’re pretty sure you scrolled past on Netflix last week, takes the opportunity to interject, apparently confusing the silence for an invitation.

“I’m Edward, by the way.” He leans in as if this matters. Cec subtly glances at you – you’re both thinking the same thing. “I won the BAFTA for Best Short Form Performance. Web-based narrative – all very pioneer and such. You might have seen it? Houndstooth?” Only the ex’s ex reacts, and it is unconvincing at best. He recovers, undeterred. “Anyway, I was just saying how much I love your dad’s music. Real Manchester grit. Proper lyrics, you know?”

He gestures between you and Cecily. You weigh out what would be more fun: expose his mistake or ask him whether he can actually point Manchester out on the map.

Cec gets there first. “He’s not my dad,” she says, tone sickly sweet but laced with a level of mocking she has learnt from you. “Just hers.” She jabs a finger in your direction. “See” – and here’s where she gets you back for earlier – “my half-sister is my mother’s daughter. Don’t you recall that big affair? ‘96, ‘97. Well, here she is, walking and talking.”

You laugh, hoping she hears the special kind of fury you reserve for this topic lurking in the brightness of your voice.

Leah’s eyes flicker to you, apologetic. “Shit. Right.” She swallows. “I shouldn’t have – back at the table – about the whole, uh…” She trails off, waving her hand as though it conjures up the rest of her words. You briefly wonder if this woman has ever finished a sentence.

You tilt your head. “The whole ‘I like your dad’s music’ thing?”

She winces. “That.”

Cecily grins, clearly enjoying the awkwardness she hasn’t had to cause for once. The actor looks confused and the girl takes an abrupt interest in her drink.

“Well, I think I’m going to mingle with the… common folk,” Cecily says then, voice light as a feather. Edward laughs – of course he finds that funny. “Coming, Leah?”

You’re about to say no, as though you have authority to do so, when Leah smiles, a little tight around the edges. “I’m good, thanks.”

Cec shrugs, already turning away. “Suit yourself. Come on, darlings,” she chirps to the others, acquiring tonight’s entourage. “Let’s leave the artist alone with her muse.”

You don’t dignify it with a response. You watch them go.

Something settles in the atmosphere. Probably a sigh of relief that your sister has fucked off. Things feel quieter.

“You know, when you meet a nepo-baby, you’re not supposed to remind them of it.” The whiskey you sip to chase your first teaching burns your throat. “Much less talk about the fame of their parents.”

“I liked your set.” She is defiant in the way she says it, shoulders squared, jaw set. You assume she hates being patronised more than the average person. The small amount of empathy in you connects that to being a female athlete. Or maybe just a woman.

You nod, noncommittally. A truce. “Thanks.”

“I hadn’t connected the dots about your dad.” She really should stop talking about it, else you’ll have to find a way to make her shut up. “Must be terrifying to have him watching you on days like today.”

Your laugh is involuntary. Startling. She jumps. “He’s not watching. His son has a gig in some pub in Manchester.” You hope she doesn’t pity you. “Glasto’s televised,” you say, feeling the need to justify it.

“He missed out.”

She doesn’t understand the weight of that statement.

“Perhaps. Anyway, you know I’m more nepo through my mother? My grandfather was the CEO of Sony Music for a long time. Then he died and they got the new guy in, but such is life.”

“I should have been more diligent when reading your Wikipedia.” And that makes you laugh, you’re embarrassed to admit. She smiles, almost proud of herself. “I am quite a fan of The Smiths though.”

“They’re a bit angsty.”

“Mate,” she says incredulously, “have you heard your lyrics?”

You roll your eyes. “But I don’t listen to my own music. Do you watch yourself play football?”

Leah thinks about that for a moment. Her expression softens, as though you have just said something completely idiotic.

“Well, yes. We have film sessions – hours spent pouring over how we play, how the other teams play.”

“I don’t know how sports work.”

“Well, I don’t know my C major from my A minor.”

Her confusion is amusing. “They’re the same,” you say gently, though you’re not sure why you’re enjoying this conversation or educating her on entry-level music theory.

Leah frowns. “They don’t sound the same.”

You take a slow sip of your drink, let it burn just long enough. “They’re not supposed to, even to an ignorant ear.”

“Are you calling me ignorant?”

You gesture lazily with your glass. “No. Just your ears.”

She scoffs, offended. You’re a total bitch.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal women #woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #leah williamson imagine

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northsoulss · 1 year ago

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dating you II - leah williamson

(a/n : will do one for less soon! <3)

late night walks in the park, hand in hand. pushing each other around like children, running away from her grabbing hands as she tries to tickle you. late night runs to the convenience store to get ice cream just because she was craving it at 2am.

i. shes awe struck when she sees you on television, still panting from the previous match. you spoke loudly into the microphone with pride in your voice that its okay to be who you are, despite people saying its biologically wrong. this response was fired back to the interviewer when you were asked about your relationship status with leah. she sees the determination in your eyes, the pure fire and willpower in your actions. she thinks she snagged the right one this time, a proud grin on her face as she lays on the couch, phone in hand, ready to text you how much she loves you.

ii. you think you love her when she lays in bed at night and stares up at the ceiling. she was wordless and yet so many thoughts filled the room. you smooth her furrowed brows with a brush of your thumbs, and her eyes flutter shut.

“what are you thinking about?” you whisper, and she turns to look at you, the dim light from the moon shining into your room from the open window. she looks like one of artemis’s hunters you think, eyes strong, facial features lit up by the moonlight. your ever so strong, leah.

“nothing you need to worry about.”

iii. she thinks you’re a breath of fresh air when you are waiting in your car for her after a bad match. you sit there in the driver’s seat, window rolled down. earphones plugged in, humming a faint melody of her favourite song that she had recommended to you a week ago. she opens the door with a small sigh, clearly disappointed with how the she played today which does not go unnoticed. the moment she sits down, your hand is on her bouncing knee, rubbing comforting circles onto her skin. you look at her, earphones dangling from your neck, a worried expression on your face that makes her break her composure. you sit there with her till the sun sets, listening and comforting her, reassuring her that her playing skills do not define her as a person.

iv. you love her, now you are certain after seeing her lead you to her favourite spot in the park. the act so intimate, her bringing you to the place she always goes to when things become too much.

“you know, i’ve always wanted to bring someone here. i was always afraid that this place would no longer be special, but i think showing you wouldn’t change anything. it can be our spot now.”

you think your heart strings couldn’t be tugged any further, and yet your heart falls out of your chest and into her hands for her to hold.

“its beautiful, leah.” you kiss the back of her hand, hoping that your small lingering touches will convey your love for her.

v. you know you can rely on her when she swats your hand away from trying to touch the pot that she was stirring.

“stop trying to take over! i told you i’m helping with the chores today, darling.” despite both of you just coming back from training, she insists its her turn to cook, ignoring your insistent protests.

“just let me help lee!”. she blocks the stove with her hip, pushing you away in process. giving you a knowing look, you melt, and give in. you sit at the dining table with a huff, and yet you could not hide the fond smile that crept onto your lips.

vi. she looks at you in admiration, standing at the sidelines as you screamed in victory as you scored a goal which helped your team win against the opponent. you looked magical, hair messy in a ponytail, lips curled up in an open mouthed smile yelling excitedly. you run around the pitch with your team mates, piggybacking one of them happily. your eyes scan the stadium and you quickly spot her in the crowd, blowing her a kiss and a wink. leah smiles widely, a hand coming up to rest on her chest, trying to coax her heart to slow down, feeling like a teenager who got invited to prom by her crush.

vii. you’ve never felt more proud of her, watching her step onto stage to present the sports personality of the year award. your heart swells with pride, seeing her sport a suit with a beaming smile. she looks absolutely radiant, and you are incredibly proud of the person she has become over the many years that you have been with her. you are more than happy to stay on the side to support her as she becomes more popular, to act as her plus one to events. as long as you are with her, nothing else matters.

viii. there are times were she feels more appreciative of you than usual, like when you lay out her training kit that she has to wear the following day on the bed, or leaving small texts to let her know throughout the day that you’re thinking of her.

“hey babes, i know you’re in training right now, but i just wanted to know before i fly off that i really love you, and i can’t wait to see you after my match is over. <3”

she only reads the text an hour later, looking at it with a sad smile, but typing back an equally sappy reply, already missing your constant presence.

“love you too babe. i miss you already. see you soon xoxo”

#leah williamson #leah williamson woso #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson arsenal #lgbtqia #woso x reader #woso fluff #arsenal #woso fanfics #alessia russo #katie maccabe #katie mccabe #mapi leon #wlw love #wlw #wlw post #lucy bronze #lionesses x reader #lionesses

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hrtwayne · 3 months ago

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Just The Way You Are || Leah Williamson

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Surgeon!Wife!Reader

Summary: Leah’s wife finally manages to take time off to watch one of her games.

Note: English is not my first language!

Warnings: Mentions of Mutual Longing & Lots of Comfort!

Masterlist | Women's Football Masterlist

The room in Leuven, located in a relatively quieter part of Belgium, was bathed in a faint yellowish light. The walls, painted in soft tones, housed a king-size bed and a small table where a few belongings could be placed.

You were exhausted. The routine of traveling between England and Spain, the grueling shifts, and the constant pressure to perform your best at the hospital had worn you down more than you could have imagined. But that week, what weighed on you the most wasn’t physical fatigue—it was longing. It had been exactly two months since you’d last seen Leah, your wife of nearly three years, and the distance seemed to be affecting both of you more than you’d expected.

The time zone differences and your hectic schedule made it difficult, but the two of you always found a way to squeeze in quick calls and conversations between matches and surgeries.

That afternoon, you decided it was the perfect time to reunite with the blonde-haired woman you loved. You had just landed in Leuven, still feeling the weight of exhaustion from a long shift, but you knew you couldn’t put this off any longer. You were used to receiving calls from Leah before her matches, but today, you had come up with a convenient excuse to throw her off.

The sound of cheers and chants was deafening at The King Power at Den Dreef Stadium. Leah was on the pitch, illuminated by the floodlights and the electrifying energy only a game could bring. Behind that confident smile of hers, there was a hidden ache—a longing she couldn’t shake.

As the match neared its end, Leah noticed something unusual in the stands. Near the field, next to her mother, was a face that seemed to shine brighter than anything else. It was you.

Leah blinked a few times, as if making sure her tired mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. But there you were—her wife—with a wide, proud smile, your eyes filled with love and longing. Leah’s heart raced, and her legs trembled slightly. She took a deep breath, knowing that in just a few more minutes, she could finally hold you again.

When the game ended, you waited a few moments before being led to the locker room entrance. You hugged a few players and staff, exchanged words with the team doctor—anything to ease the nervous pounding in your chest. The moment you spotted Leah, who looked just as anxious as you, you cleared your throat. Leah’s eyes widened, and she sprinted toward you.

You opened your arms in a loving gesture. Without hesitation, Leah crashed into you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. The noticeable height difference made her lift her feet off the ground, burying her face in the crook of your neck.

"You came," Leah breathed out, almost speechless. "I can’t believe you’re here."

You smiled, running your fingers through her slightly messy blonde strands.

"I wouldn’t miss this for anything, love. You were amazing out there."

Leah’s eyes welled up with tears. It wasn’t just the end of the match that moved her—it was the fact that despite your impossible schedule and chaotic life as a surgeon, you had found a way to be by her side when it truly mattered.

"I missed you so much," Leah confessed, her voice soft and trembling.

"I know, my love. I missed you too," you replied, cradling her face tenderly. "But I’m here now, and I’ll make up for every second I was away."

At that moment, the world around you seemed to fade. There were no more fans, no floodlights, no cameras. It was just you and Leah—two souls in love who had found their way back to each other.

#leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso imagine #gxg #fem reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal women #imagine

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pitchsidestories · 1 month ago

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In the spotlight II Alessia Russo x Actress!Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1655

summary: Reader is a rising actress, completely unaware she’s about to win a BAFTA. The shock hits even harder when it’s her girlfriend, Alessia, who walks onstage to hand her the award.

author's note: Hi, this one’s a bit different from our usual fanfics, but it's something we always wanted to try, so we’d love to know if you enjoyed it.💗

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

“Hey stargirl!”, Chloe greeted Alessia as she spotted her backstage at the BAFTA awards, carefully hugging her to not smudge both their make up. The two still had an award to present later that night.

“Hi Chlo.”, Alessia smiled at her, taking in the sight of her teammate all dressed up.

Chloe nodded toward the arrivals area where the red carpet buzzed with actors, directors, and photographers: “Does your girlfriend know you’re here?”

“No.”, Alessia replied with a mischievous grin. “She has no clue.”

Chloe mirrored the smile and raised her eyebrows: “So you will surprise her?”

“Yes, that’s the plan.”, the striker confirmed lightly, though the giddiness in her voice was tangible.

“Cute, Lessie.”, Chloe laughed, nudging her gently.

Alessia smirked and swiftly changed the subject:” Great outfit by the way, Chlo.”

Her teammate beamed and did a quick twirl to present her floor-length gown.

“Thanks. I like yours too.”

“Oh, thank you. I just hope I won’t trip over it on the stage with those heels on.”, Alessia chuckled, glancing down at her shoes and the fabric at the bottom.

Chloe looked her up and down, curling her lips sceptically: “You really set yourself up for failure with those heels and your clumsiness.”

“Shut it.”, Alessia laughed.

“No.”, Chloe grinned, as they both glanced toward the stage entrance, waiting.

“We’ve to be serious now.”, Alessia reminded her suddenly, the smile on her face fading into something more earnest. “She really earned this.”

“Fine.”, Chloe agreed, slipping into a more focused demeanour as the stage manager gave them their cue.

As their names were announced, they walked on stage. Chloe with the award in hand and Alessia clutching the envelope. On the last step, Alessias dress snagged on her heel. She stumbled but caught herself quickly.

You gasped from your seat in the audience. Your heart skipped twice in a row. First, when you recognised who was walking on stage and a second time when she nearly tripped.

Chloe stifled an involuntary laugh but quickly recovered in time to reach the microphone: “And the rising star award goes to…”

“Y/n.”, Alessia finished proudly.

Your heart jumped a third time. You had won. But you didn’t move. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with what was happening but somehow, you had already made it onto the stage.

Suddenly, you were face to face with Alessia. She looked beautiful, a dazzling smile on her lips, holding out the award to you. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around it. Your own girlfriend handing you the award you worked so hard for.

“Oh uhm… thanks.”, you managed nervously, your head spinning.

In that moment, you hadn’t realised that your fingers and hers had been intertwined for longer than usual at ceremonies like this. On stage, those small gestures and glances made the audience wonder if there was more between the two of you than simply a presenter and an award receiver.

But you didn’t have time to overthink it. You began your speech, reading from the small note you held in your free hand. Words you hadn’t expected to say tonight came tumbling from your lips as you tried to strike a balance between the personal and the universal.

Back in their seats, Chloe nudged her teammate with a smirk playing on her lips: “Stop staring at her.”

“Uhm, what?”, Alessia replied, fanning her flushed cheeks.

Glancing around, the older woman replied: “People will notice if you keep looking at her like that.”

“Oh, I’ll stop.” She hesitated for a beat before adding, in awe: “But she looks so gorgeous, it’s hard not to stare at her.”

Amused by the obvious love the footballer had for you, Chloe remarked: “I bet she knows.”

“And her words… so powerful.”, Alessia added, unable to stop herself from swooning despite her teammate’s teasing.

Grinning, Chloe said: “You actually listened? Thought you’d just be sat there with heart eyes.”

“I can multitask.”, your girlfriend insisted, her cheeks turning even redder.

Shaking her head, her friend reminded her: “You can’t even walk in a straight line.”

“Well, I’m not straight either.”, she muttered clumsily.

Then Alessia caught sight of the time on the clock behind her, your speech had ended a few minutes ago. The Arsenal player quickly shot up from her seat, muttering under her breath: “Shit, I need to go.”

“Stop whining. Anyone would be thrilled to collect that trophy.”, Chloe said with an exaggerated eye roll.

Wincing, Alessia explained: “Yeah, but I need to change my outfit too.”

While you were seated with the rest of the cast members, you noticed your girlfriend slipping away and, without drawing attention, quietly followed her into the dressing room, announcing your arrival with a gentle knock.

Normally, this was the space where you saw actresses and the occasional female director swap their high heels for sneakers. The lighting was low, the atmosphere calm.

Amused, you watched her struggle to undress without losing her balance. Then, grinning, you offered: “Need a hand with the outfit change, love?”

“I haven’t got time to make out in the dressing room.”, Alessia declared with a laugh.

You raised your hands in defence: “Oi, my intentions weren’t that filthy. I genuinely wanted to help especially after you and Chloe surprised me on stage.”

Her face lit up with a proud smile: “Thought you’d enjoy that.”

“Oh, I did.”, you assured her while stepping around to unzip her gown with careful fingers. “Here you go.”

The fabric slipped down, pooling around Alessias heels.

You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned in and pressed your lips to her naked shoulder, leaving a faint imprint of your lipstick on her skin.

Alessia turned around, feigning offence but the twinkle in her eyes told you that she enjoyed it.

“Hey, I said no kisses. I have to hurry up.”

You lifted your hands in mock innocence and watched her step out of her gown and into a new dress.

“Bye, see you at home.”, you winked at her.

“See you.”

At the door you paused and turned back to her: “Oh, and don’t forget; you deserve it, Lessie.”

She grinned: “So do you.”

You blew her one last kiss and left.

“Enjoyed the glamour of the film awards?”, Mariona asked as she and Alessia took their seats at the WPG awards.

Alessia nodded: “It was really cool, yes. But I feel more comfortable here.”

She glanced around at the room full of other athletes and coaches.

Mariona nodded, scrolling through her phone while they waited to be called on stage. “I get that. But uhm… Less?”

She didn’t even wait for a reply.

“The fans started to research the two of you and they found pictures of her at the stadium… wearing your jersey…”

Alessia paled immediately: “Wait? Already?”

“Yeah, you know how fast they can be…”, the Spanish midfielder said with a sigh.

“Still…” Alessia bit her lip. “Maybe Chloe was right, and I was too obvious.”

“It’s not your fault.”, Mariona said gently, placing a comforting hand on Alessia’s arm.

“She won’t like that…”, Alessia murmured.

“Try to enjoy the moment, okay?”

She nodded slowly: “Okay.”

“Glad to not be here alone.”, Mariona added quickly, clearly trying to change the subject.

A calmer smile spread across Alessia’s face: “Don’t worry, you’re not alone.”

“Thanks.”

They exchanged a warm glance under the dim lights of the venue.

“It’s your turn, Mario.”, Alessia reminded her as her name echoed from the stage.

Mariona got up from her seat: “On my way.”

Alessias name was called right after hers.

Golden boot and Player of the season winners, grinning at each other as they walked off stage.

“Congrats.”, Alessia grinned as they headed over to pose with their awards.

“Congratulations to you too.”, her teammate laughed as the cameras flashed around them.

Happily, she answered: “Thanks.”

Later that evening, you found yourself replaying the day in your mind. It all felt like something out of a film. Except this wasn’t fiction. This was your life.

With a dreamy look in your eyes, you greeted your girlfriend as she stepped into the bedroom, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

“Love? Hi.”, you said.

“Hey.”, Alessia replied, still slightly breathless. The forward clearly couldn’t wait to be in your arms, she flung herself onto the bed and rested her chin on your chest.

You smiled warmly at her, running your fingers through the bun that had begun to loosen.

“What a night, huh?”

“A pretty successful one, I’d say.”, your girlfriend hummed.

Reminiscing over the last few hours, you nodded: “Oh yes.” A cheeky grin formed on your lips. “Is the no-kissing rule still in place?”

“No. I’ve got time for it now.”, the blonde replied.

“Perfect.”

Right then, only the touch of her lips mattered.

It wasn’t until the next day that Alessia told you the public had picked up on that you two were lovers.

You knew your agent wouldn’t be thrilled about the idea forming in your head. Being out in the film industry was becoming more common, but it was still risky. And yet, Alessia felt worth the risk.

It was the Champions League final. All of Lisbon was buzzing. The dominant colours in the stadium were blaugrana and red.

“Lessi, turn around.”, Leah whispered into her teammate’s ear.

Her mouth fell open when she spotted you right in front of her. “What?”

“Good luck, love.”, you said softly.

Still in disbelief, Alessia hugged you: “You’re here?”

“Yes. Let people talk, I’m here to support you.”, you countered boldly. Relieved, she asked: “You don’t mind?”

“No. Do you?”

“Not at all.”, she said firmly.

In her embrace, you promised her: “No more hiding from the spotlight.”

The stage would be hers in a few minutes, and you’d be in the stands, cheering her and her team on, thinking how Alessia was worth every risk.

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enwoso · 2 months ago

Text

how convenient | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist | if you haven’t already i would recommend reading first heartbreak to get up to speed

the sidelines of the pitch buzzed with the usual saturday morning chaos — parent's chatting, children chasing stray footballs as whistles blowed too often and not enough. but leah had stood still, arms folded across her chest. her eyes locked on the man across the field.

harrison.

it was almost poetic, convenient if you will, even if it didn't make her stomach twist that the next time she saw him would be here.

at your football game. the one he was meant to show up for last time. the one he'd promised. the one he then conveniently forgot.

leah could still hear alessia's voice over the phone, quiet and tired as she'd spent the entire evening calming you down as the tried her best to stay calm over the phone as she retold the story to leah. 'she asked me if he even loved her, le.'

and that was it. that was the line.

you deserved a hell of a lot better than a broken promise with whiskey on its breath.

so leah waited, watching your entire game. you playing with that familiar fierce focus which had been missing the previous week as your blonde curls bounced as you ran for the ball. but something in your movement lacked the usual sparkle — it hadn't properly returned since that weekend.

when harrison finally wandered to the edge of the field, the game now finished. he’d been there since the 14th minute — leah had been watching.

a coffee cup in one of his hands, phone in the other, looking more like he'd stumbled out of bed then just stepped into fatherhood afterwards.

leah didn't hesitate after making sure that both alessia and you were occupied and distracted. you running circles with your teammates as alessia spoke to some of their parents, engrossed in a deep conversation. so you both wouldn't see what leah was up to.

"didn't think you had it in you to show up this time," she said, quiet but cutting sharp.

harrison blinked, startled, then smirked faintly, "leah. thought i might run into you today."

"lucky me."

he sipped his coffee looking out to the field, avoiding eye contact with leah. "so i take it less has sent you over here to lecture me then?"

"no, she doesn't even know i'm over here talking to you. i'm just here to watch the kid, who actually showed up."

his jaw twitched slightly, "look, i know i messed up. i didn't mean to forget - i had a lot going on that day."

leah raising an eyebrow humming slightly at his well, pathetic words, "enough going on that you forget your own daughters name?"

he flinched, taking another sip from his coffee. a beat of silence falling over the two as they both looked over the field, arms leaning against the barrier.

"i said i was hungover. i didn't mean it. i was half asleep, and—"

"—and yet you still found time to answer a phone you didn't remember promising her on."

there was another beat of silence, for a second too long, and then his face hardened.

"you don't know what it's like," he muttered, jaw clenched. "you don't know me, you don't know what i've got going on. what we had, how hard it was. you think because you're playing happy families with my ex and my kid, you know everything?"

leah took one step closer, her voice dropping into steel. "i know enough."

he just scoffed, amused almost as a smirk appeared on his face. "no, mate you know alessia's version. that's it."

"no, mate. i know a hell of a lot more than you." that stopped him in his tracks.

"i know how before she goes to bed she has to say goodnight to all of her teddy’s so that they don’t go to sleep sad. i know how she still draws you in every picture she makes cause she doesn't want to hurt your feelings. i know how hard alessia fights not to to bad-mouth you in front of her - no matter how angry she is with you. i know what it looks like when a little girl asks if her dad really loves her—and means it."

harrison looked away. he didn't say anything. he didn't have anything to defend him self with.

"you think this is about you and alessia? this isn't about who's in her bed now." leah added her voice quieter now, but somehow more dangerous. "it's not. it's about that little girl you keep letting down. and if you're not going to be a dad and a proper one at that then don't expect the world to wait while you try and figure out how."

for a moment, the only sound was the distant sound of children giggling and parents chatting as the field started to get less busier of people, the morning of football starting to slow down.

then—

"she's my daughter" harrison said, but it didn't sound as strong as convincing as he wanted it to.

"your right she is, so start fucking acting like it" leah replied, snappy and sharp as if she had a response to every thing he said. "because she deserves better and she not going to keep giving you pieces of herself for you to just drop every time it's convenient for you."

leah turned without waiting for a reply, she didn't want to listen to his pathetic voice any longer. she'd heard enough and said what she wanted to say.

watching as the group of parents surrounding alessia's was getting smaller, as she jogged to catch up with you two. alessia looked over her shoulder, sensing leah's presence. "you all good?"

leah reached for alessia's hand, slipping her fingers effortlessly between hers with ease, "yeah, just had something to take care of."

alessia raised an eyebrow, curious but also didn't push. instead making a mental note to ask later on. "that right?"

"yep, all sorted though. don't worry, love"

you rushed back to leah and alessia having said goodbye to your friends, as you were already mid-sentence. "did you see when i almost scored mama? i kicked it so hard!"

leah grinned, the tension easing from her shoulders just at the sound of your voice as she ruffled your hair, "i saw, you were brilliant today, you little superstar!"

and as the three of them walked off the field, you chattering away, alessia leaning in close as leah anchored them to her side — harrison being left stood alone in his own thoughts by the sideline .

watching what it looked like when someone actually showed up.

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