#manchester united imagine

[chelseachilly]

tired of loving from afar

pairing: mason mount x reader warnings: none, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst! word count: 5.3k

a/n: not me writing for someone other than ben lmao?? been really in my mase feels lately so here's a fluffy little long distance relationship fic (also was very happy to read this morning that he's likely going to be back after the international break! my heart has been hurting for him this season 🥺) have a great weekend loves 💓

-

Of the three years you’ve been with Mason, the past six months have been the hardest by far. 

You’d overcome other hurdles in your relationship, like adjusting to the exposure and demanding schedule of a professional footballer, learning to cope with your life being somewhat public and thousands of girls being in love with your boyfriend. None of this was nearly as challenging as having to adjust to him living 200 miles away from you. 

His move to Manchester was bittersweet - you were so proud of him for getting a spot at such a massive club and finally receiving the appreciation and recognition he deserves. You knew he was happy to have a fresh start and a chance to prove himself as a player. 

At the same time, it was incredibly emotional for him to leave his boyhood club, his friends, his family, and you all at the same time. You would’ve given anything to go with him, even if it meant leaving your own friends and family in London, but you were about to start your final year of uni there. You couldn’t just pack up and go, no matter how much you wanted to do so.

You’re passionate about your studies, and you knew it would all be worth it when you graduate and get a job in your chosen field - and in the same city as the man you love. You knew it was only a year.

That didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

You’ve both made a massive effort to see each other as much as humanly possible, going up to Manchester every time you have a break from classes or a weekend without an exam or assignment due. Mason has also come back to London any time he gets the chance, sometimes flying out just to see you for the day. You’ve been making it work, but it’s not nearly the same as living in the same house as him. Even when you were both super busy, you at least got to see each other when you woke up and before bed, and now all you have are texts and FaceTime calls. 

On a night like tonight, when you’re exhausted from the week and you just want to be wrapped in his arms watching a film, FaceTime really feels like a poor replacement for the real thing. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mason says, a sleepy smile on his face as he answers your call. “How was your day?”

“Hey, Mase,” you say, curling up with a blanket and admiring his face in the soft glow of his bedroom lamp. Judging by the fact that he’s in bed by quarter to nine, you figure he’s as worn out as you are. “It was okay, felt long. I finally turned in my essay, though.”

“Good work, babe, I’m sure you aced it like always.” 

You blush a little, never growing tired of how he takes every opportunity to praise your intelligence. Any time someone asks about your studies, he does a full spiel about how smart you are.

“We’ll see,” you say. “How was your day, love? Any updates at physio?”

The way his smile instantly fades makes your heart drop to your stomach, fearing the worst.

“Yeah, um-it’s looking like a bit longer,” Mason says, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady so you don’t worry too much. “Maybe another few weeks. They’re not sure.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you sigh. “I’m sorry. I know how frustrating this is.”

The hardest part about being away from Mason has unquestionably been watching him struggle from afar without being able to properly support him. From the rocky start to the season, to being out due to injuries basically ever since, it’s been torture not being there for him. 

You went up straight away when he first injured his calf in November, needing to both emotionally and physically care for him, but you couldn’t stay long before your exams started. Since then, you’ve done your best to help from London - sending him care packages, calling him as much as your schedule allows, asking Luke and Anouska to keep an eye on him and let you know how he’s holding up. 

In moments like these, though, what you really need is to hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright. 

“Yeah, it’s a bit tough,” Mason admits, fiddling with his hoodie string. “But at least I’m back in partial training, it could be worse. I could’ve done my ACL or something, you know? I’ve been pretty lucky in my career so far.”

One of the many things you love about him is his infectious optimism, how he always sees the best in situations and in people. 

Right now, though, you’re not sure you fully believe the words leaving his mouth. He looks so disheartened and downtrodden. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, frowning. “I know it’s not the news you’re expecting, you’re allowed to be disappointed.”

“I’ll be fine, angel, don’t worry about me,” Mason reassures you. “Just missing you a little extra today.” 

“Me too,” you murmur, touching the screen and wishing it were his face. “I’m sorry I can’t make it up this weekend, but this group assignment-“

“Don’t apologize, baby, I know how busy you are this term,” Mason cuts you off, just as he always does when you try to apologize for being so far away. 

You do the same to him when he tries to say he’s sorry for uprooting your life together, for not being there when you’re stressed about school or just having a bad day. Truthfully, neither of you are at fault, it’s just life. But it still sucks sometimes. 

“We’ll see each other in a few weeks when I have my reading break,” you remind him. “Just a while longer.”

“I know, I’m counting down the minutes,” Mason smiles. 

You talk for a little while longer before you reluctantly have to go so you can get ready for bed, and you promise to call him again tomorrow night. 

The sad look on his face when you say goodnight lingers in your mind as you shower and do your skincare routine, and by the time you climb into bed, you’ve made a decision.

First, you message your group for the assignment you’re working on and ask if you can push your planned meeting to Monday rather than Saturday. Next, you text Luke and ask him to make sure Mason doesn’t have plans tomorrow night.

Lastly, you book a train to Manchester, because you’ll be damned if you don’t go cheer up your man when he needs you.

-

The moment you arrive at the train station in Manchester the next day, you hop in an Uber and make your way straight to Mason’s.

You know that he’s still at training and will be for at least another hour or so, as you’ve been texting Luke for updates so Mason doesn’t get suspicious. It’s not unusual for you to ask how his day is going, but you don’t typically ask for the exact time he plans on leaving Carrington or instruct him to go straight home after training.

Using the key that Mason gave you when he moved in, insisting that it was still your home even if you don’t live there the majority of the time, you let yourself into his house.

You drop your bags and immediately get to work on creating the perfect cozy, romantic Friday night in.

By the time you get the text from Luke that he’s on his way back with Mason, having devised a fake plan of coming over to play FIFA after training to ensure Mason didn’t make other plans, you’re just finishing up.

You’ve successfully transformed his house, which he bought furnished and has put very little effort into making homey, into a much more welcoming environment. 

You ordered flowers for the kitchen table, as well as enough groceries to make dinner for him tonight and to replenish his far too empty fridge. You did a bit of tidying, deciding to do a few loads of laundry for him when you noticed there was quite a pile forming, and it must have been a week or so since the cleaning service he pays for came. 

You put some soft music on his speakers and lit a few candles in the kitchen as well, popping a bottle of white wine into the fridge so it’s ready for your dinner. 

You’ve just started chopping a few veggies to get a head start on dinner when you hear the sound of the front door opening followed by distant voices, one of which you immediately recognize as Mason.

“Do you hear that music?” 

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice after weeks apart fills your stomach with butterflies - you’re just as giddy to see him as you were in your early days of dating. 

“Probably the neighbours, mate,” Luke responds, still playing along with your ruse. 

“I don’t think-“

Finally, the guys turn the corner into the kitchen, and you see Mason come into view with Luke trailing behind him. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment, slightly startled by there being someone in his house, and then he realizes it’s you and his mouth falls open in shock.

“Surprise,” you say shyly, while Mason is still at a loss for words. 

He immediately drops his training bag to the floor and makes a beeline for you, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you off your feet before you can even hug him back properly. 

You relax into his arms right away, squeezing him just as tightly as he’s squeezing you and breathing in the familiar scent of his soap and aftershave, freshly showered after training. It’s the same scent that lingers on the t-shirts and hoodies that you steal from him every time you come up, wearing them until you regrettably have to put them through the wash. 

“Baby,” Mason mumbles into your neck, pressing little kisses there. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you confirm, wrapping your legs around his waist as he refuses to set you down or let you go. “I missed you way too much to wait another three weeks.”

He pulls back far enough to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands sliding down to your thighs to support your weight as you kiss him back. You can feel the pieces of your world shifting back into place, your heart settling in your chest as you sink into his warmth.

Mason presses a few more quick pecks to your lips before reluctantly setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. It’s only then that you realize Luke is still here, shuffling awkwardly in the corner. 

“Thanks for your help, Luke,” you say with a shy smile, moving to Mason’s side. 

“Of course, the man never shuts up about how much he misses you, so it’s really a favour for me as well,” Luke jokes. “I’ll leave you guys. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks, mate,” Mason says with an eye roll and a grin before turning his attention back to you, pressing kisses to your head. 

“Night, Luke! Give my love to Anouska and the kids,” you call out, though you’ve also turned back to face Mason and bury your face in his chest. 

You remain in each other’s arms, just holding one another and breathing in and out for a minute or two. 

You knew you missed him, but you don’t think you realized quite how much until right now. It’s taken such a toll on both of you being apart for so long.

“How long are you staying?” Mason asks quietly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer, as he lightly rubs your lower back. 

“Until Monday morning,” you say. You wish it were longer, but three nights together is the best you’ve gotten in a long time. 

“Really?” Mason asks, pulling back and looking at you with bright eyes. “I thought you had to do your group assignment tomorrow?” 

“I pushed it to Monday, I had to come see you after we spoke last night.”

You reach up to cup Mason’s face with one hand, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. Judging by the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you, you know you were right to come. He’s obviously been struggling with the disappointment of the never-ending injuries, all the uncertainty it’s brought. 

“I’m okay,” he says softly, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. “Now that you’re here, everything’s okay.”

You melt at his gentle words, but they don’t do much to ease your worries about his emotional wellbeing. 

Mason gives you a quick peck on the forehead before looking around the room, noticing the food you’re preparing and the cozy, romantic vibe you created for your evening. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

You’re not keen to drop the subject, but you don’t want to ruin your rare weekend together by bombarding him with questions either. You know he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. 

“I just ordered some food for dinner and restocked your fridge a bit,” you explain. “I figured you would be happy to stay in tonight, so I got stuff to make your favourite pasta.”

Before he can respond, the dryer beeps, signalling that the load is done. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you doing laundry?”

“I just threw a couple loads of your clothes in, I noticed you were running behind,” you shrug. 

Mason looks at you with complete awe, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says softly. “You being here is enough. It’s more than enough.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck once more. 

“I know, but I wanted tonight to be perfect and relaxing,” you explain, pecking his lips. “No stressing about football or school or anything else. Just you and me.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Mason sighs, squeezing your waist. “Can I help you cook?”

“No, but you can pour us both a glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge and sit down and tell me about your day,” you smile, kissing him one more time before pulling away to return to your meal preparations. 

Mason does as told, sneaking another few kisses when he brings you over your glass, then sitting at one of the stools at the kitchen island.

You treasure this domesticity more than almost anything with him - the simple act of chatting about your days while making dinner is something you’ve missed terribly.

When the pasta is ready, you dish it out into two bowls and bring them over to the table. 

“God, I missed your cooking,” Mason grins as he dives into his portion, obviously starving after a day of training. “It’s delicious, babe.”

“Thanks, Mase,” you reply, pouring yourself a little bit more wine. “You want some more?”

“Might as well, it’s not like I’m playing tomorrow,” Mason says, the offhand comment hurting your heart much more than he intended. 

He’s still smiling at you as you pour his drink, but you don’t believe for a second that it’s real. 

“Do you want to go tomorrow?” you ask after a minute of silence while you both eat. “I know you usually go to the home games, right?”

Mason shrugs. “Yeah, we can if you want.”

Once again, you don’t press him further, listening as he changes the subject and starts updating you on Ben’s latest girl troubles. 

After you’ve finished and cleaned up, you head into the living room to catch up on the new episodes of Drive to Survive. You always save your favourite shows for when you’re together, sometimes dodging spoilers for weeks just so you can enjoy it properly with Mason.

The moment you sit down on the couch, Mason pulls you into his arms for the first real cuddle you’ve had in weeks. You very contently lean into him, resting your head on his chest and humming in delight as Mason slides his hand under your hoodie and begins to gently stroke your lower back. It’s not with the intention of anything sexual, though you’re sure that will come later, it’s just an innate need to be as close to you as possible. 

It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt since he left your flat in London three weeks ago, your body and mind decompressing with every moment spent in his arms. 

A few hours pass, and you can feel yourself growing tired, but you’re enjoying Mason’s commentary on the Alpine rivalry far too much to interrupt and suggest you go to bed. Your yawns are betraying you, though, and Mason begins to gently run his hand through your hair.

“You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asks softly, kissing your forehead. 

“It’s so early,” you murmur as you glance at the time on your phone, barely past 9PM, yet you can’t contain another small yawn which makes Mason chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired out from the week.”

“No worries, we have the whole weekend,” Mason smiles. “Honestly, I’m a bit worn out too. Wanna go upstairs and I’ll get us some water?”

You nod as he stands and helps you to your feet, pressing one more gentle kiss to your forehead before heading into the kitchen. You make your way up the stairs to his bedroom and head into his ensuite bathroom. 

It occurs to you as you’re flicking the light on that you forgot to grab your toiletry bag from your suitcase in his room, and you’re just about to turn back for it when something catches your eye. On one of the shelves above the toilet, there’s an array of products that wasn’t here last time you visited. More specifically, there’s a version of just about every hair and skincare product you use on a regular basis, and you really doubt that Mason has taken up doing hair treatments or using Drunk Elephant serums.

Maybe it shouldn’t mean as much to you as it does - he’s always been thoughtful, and you know the expense of buying all this is nothing to him - but for some reason, the simple gesture nearly brings you to tears. 

Mason appears in the doorway a moment later, smiling softly at you.

“You okay, love?” 

“When did you buy all this stuff?” you ask, gesturing to the shelf. 

“Oh, uh, a couple days after the last time I came to London,” Mason says casually. “I took pictures of everything in your bathroom to make sure I got the right stuff, I just wanted to make it easier for you when you visit.”

As you look into his soft, sincere gaze, your love for him feels more overwhelming than ever. 

Which means your guilt does, too. 

“Mase, I’m so sorry I haven’t been up to visit more lately,” you say, your voice unsteady. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I know you’ve been keeping a lot of it from me because I’m busy with uni, but you’re my priority and I should’ve-“

“Hey,” Mason says gently, interrupting you with a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for focusing on your studies. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I’m so proud of you. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m gonna be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” you shake your head, tears now streaming down your face. “You’ve always been there for me, and now you’re in a new city and a new club and you’ve been dealing with injuries and I’m all the way across the country.”

“Y/N, we knew this would be hard, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” Mason says, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “But it’s not your fault I moved clubs while you still had a degree to finish, or that I’ve had a tough season. Some things are out of our control.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Hearing his sad, defeated voice on the phone after a disappointing medical assessment or bad game and not being able to hold him has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever done.

“I just worry about you being here all alone,” you say quietly. “I know you have your teammates and you spend a lot of time with Luke, but in London you had me and all your friends and your family was closer and - I just hate that I’m not with you.”

“You’re here right now,” Mason says, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. “You dropped everything to come see me today, babe. You have no idea how much that meant.”

“I would do it every weekend if I could.”

“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “And I would leave all of this and spend my time helping you study and supporting you if I could, but this is our reality for a little while longer, angel.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement and staring into his big brown eyes that bring you so much comfort. 

“I’ve just missed you so much,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. 

His own arms circle your waist and tug you impossibly closer, his nose buried in your hair so he can breathe you in.

“I know, baby, I’ve missed you too,” he exhales. “So, so much.”

You hold him for a while longer, cherishing every brush of his hand against your back and every kiss he presses to your temple. You want to memorize the feeling of his touch, so when you’re back in your bed in London a few days from now you can close your eyes and try to imagine you’re still in his arms.

After a few minutes, you break apart to finish preparing for bed. You brush your teeth together then go through your skincare routine while Mason watches fondly, letting you put some moisturizer on him when you’re done with it. Then he strips down to just his boxers, teasing you lovingly when you obviously check him out, and passes you a comfy t-shirt from his drawer to change into. You make a mental note to fill up your suitcase with a few of his hoodies before you leave - the ones you have at home no longer smell like him. 

You climb into the bed together, noticing that the side you usually sleep on has all of its pillows in place and that the nightstand is almost empty except for the glass of water he set down for you. Like he’s still been leaving that space for you even when you’re not there to fill it. 

“C’mere,” Mason says immediately, tugging you into his chest. 

You relax against him, laying your head over his heartbeat and tracing his tattoos with your finger.

“Will you tell me how you’ve really been feeling lately?” you ask in a gentle voice. He immediately tenses, and you know he still doesn’t want to discuss it, but you’re not leaving Manchester without talking to him about this. “I saw the look on your face when I asked about the game tomorrow, babe. Please just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to burden you with all this,” Mason says, refusing to meet your gaze. “I know how busy you are-“

“I told you, you’re my priority, Mase,” you insist. “And it’s actually more concerning when I don’t know what’s going on with you. If you talk to me, then maybe I can help.”

Mason sighs and moves into a more upright position, still holding your hand and playing with your fingers as a way of grounding himself as he gathers his thoughts. 

“I just never thought it would be like this, you know?” he mutters. “I thought that coming here would solve everything I was going through at Chelsea, but in a lot of ways it’s been even harder.”

You nod for him to continue, gently squeezing his hand.

“I thought when all the contract stuff was resolved and I was at a new club everything would be fine, but then it’s just been constant injuries and trying to adjust to a whole new life without actually being able to do the thing I love most,” he goes on, making your heart splinter even more. “Fifty-five million pounds and I don’t have a single goal to show for it.”

“You can’t help that you’ve been injured, baby,” you say softly, though you know he already knows that. “If you were in top form, you’d be scoring goals all over the place. I know it.”

He smiles slightly, always grateful for your neverending confidence in him. You’ve been his biggest fan from the moment you met, cheering him on through every high and low of his career. 

“Maybe, but I haven’t had the chance to try,” he mutters. “I’m just stuck here, being useless to the club and hours away from you. I basically upended our lives just to end up not playing for months.”

“Mase, if I’m not allowed to feel guilty for us being apart, neither are you,” you say firmly. “Coming to United was the right decision. It may not feel like it now, but I promise it will in the long run. And if not, we’ll find a new place for you to show everyone how amazing of a footballer you are. Even if it’s in a different city or another country, we’ll figure it out.”

“Babe, I feel bad enough that you’re moving away from London to be here next year, I’m not gonna ask you to move again,” Mason says, still fiddling with your fingers. “I have to make it work here.”

“And I’m sure you will as soon as you’re better,” you tell him, bringing your joined hands to your lips. “But if it ends up not being a good fit, I will happily follow you anywhere you want to go.”

“Even the States?” Mason jokes, making you roll your eyes and poke him the ribs. “It would be cool to play with Messi.”

“You are not going to the MLS any time soon,” you reprimand him. “But yes, I would go to Florida for you, babe. That is how much I love you.”

Mason laughs, moving your joined hands so it’s his turn to lay kisses on your knuckles.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. The weather’s good, and we could hang out with the Beckhams,” he says, smiling against your skin. “We could take our kids to the beach-“

“Oh, our kids, huh?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, by the time I’m actually ready to play in the MLS…” 

“Alright, we’ll move to Florida with our hypothetical children in ten years,” you say decisively. “Then you can retire and stay home with them while I work.”

“I could take them to Disney World every day,” Mason sighs happily. “Oh, and the Harry Potter thing! Our kids would love that.” 

As much as you’re both joking, the thought of a time in the future when you’re settled with a family and not having to deal with all the separation and uncertainty makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. You can’t wait to have a family with him someday. 

“In all seriousness, babe, you’ve already accomplished so much in your career and I know you’re going to do so many more amazing things,” you tell him, reaching out to cup his cheek. “And even more importantly, you are such an incredible person off the pitch.“

Mason blushes, leaning into your palm and holding it to his face so you don’t withdraw your touch. You know he struggles to take compliments sometimes, but you also know that this is something he needs to hear. 

“Which is why I refuse to listen to you call yourself useless when you do so much for your family, the community, for me - you make everything better, Mase,” you say softly. “That’s why are so loved. It’s why I fell in love with you, not because of your job.”

He takes a moment to soak up what you’re saying, still holding your hand to his face and pressing a few kisses to your palm. 

“You mean you’re not in it for the money?” he says after a minute, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

“It’s mostly for the money, but the abs don’t hurt either,” you tease, poking his stomach and making him laugh out loud for the first time in as long as you can remember. 

Mason pulls you into his arms again, leaning back and tucking you into his chest so your nose is pressed to his neck. You give him another tight squeeze, unable to get enough of his cuddles.

“Thank you so much, baby,” he mumbles into your hair as he slowly rubs his hand over your back. “For coming and for making me talk about this stuff. You always know exactly what I need.”

“Of course, my love,” you murmur. “Just promise me you’ll keep talking to me, okay? I don’t care how busy I am, I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“I promise,” Mason swears, squeezing your hand that rests over his heart. “And the same goes for you. I know how stressful this term has been, but I’m always here even if I can’t physically be there to help.”

“I know you are,” you smile. “And I know you’re the reason Ben or Woody brought me dinner or care packages before every midterm. They wouldn’t admit it, but I suspected they were under orders to check in on me.”

Mason chuckles. “Yeah, well, gotta send in the subs when I can’t do it myself.”

You hug him even tighter, throwing a leg over his and letting him shift you back into a more comfortable position for sleep. You’re yawning again, the exhaustion finally catching up to you now that the worry gnawing at your mind over Mason has been relieved.

“So, for tomorrow,” you say, your voice lower now that you’re both getting sleepy. “I think we should go to the game with Luke and Anouska, she already texted me and asked us to come over for dinner afterward. That way you and Luke can show your faces at Old Trafford and we can spend some time with them and the kids. Then, you and I can come back home and have a bit of a romantic night in.”

Mason doesn’t respond right away, and you give him a moment before you look up at him to see if something’s wrong. But when you do, you see only an adoring gaze and gentle smile on his face.

“Is that plan good with you?” you ask, “we don’t have to do any of it, I just thought-“

“No, no, it sounds perfect,” Mason cuts you off. “You’re perfect. I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

Your heart melts even more for him, if that’s possible, and you can’t resist leaning in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you too,” you say, pressing a few more kisses to his cheeks and nose for good measure. “Now, let’s get a good night’s sleep so I can show you how much I love you in the morning, yeah?”

Mason nods with childlike enthusiasm, making you giggle again as you lay your head back on his chest. 

You can’t wait for the time to come that all of your nights end like this, curled up next to the love of your life, but for now, you’re grateful for this one.

No matter how many miles are between you, your heart is always gonna be wherever Mason is. He’s your home, whether you’re on opposite ends of the globe or in the same bed. 

You sleep better than you have in months.

please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this or send me an ask just to chat, love hearing from all of you xx

[nytb]

Game Night

Manchester United got on the right food from the get-go, having brought in reinforcements, they were well covered on all lines. The Spanish links were strong, Y/N Y/L/N and Lucia Garcia had fun up front while Ona Batlle joined from time to time on the attack. For Halloween, Ella Toone decided that a good old Game Night was long overdue.

"9PM, my place" the Brit declared in the locker room. Her teammates looked confused, rightly so "Tooney, have you fallen on your head again?" Ona mocked her teammate. Lucia joined the conversation "Game night?" she asked "Like monopoly or PS4" she scrambled from her little English vocabulary making the players laugh. "Console" Toone replied within her laughter "But make it Halloween" she added requesting her guests to show up with costumes on "I have-" you started to form an excuse to not attend the evening but were interrupted by an excited On "Noooooo" she begged "Please come" she added receiving an empty look from you "PLEEEEASE" she pleaded further. "Fine-" you replied "Tooney send me the adress" you requested "I will run some errands but I should be there by 10" you added as you left the locker room. Alessia, your flatmate, and the person you usually rode to training with ran after you "Waaait" she said grabbing you by the shoulder "I'm getting a ride right?" she asked "Like usual" you laughed.

In the locker room, some of the players gossiped about your possible relationship "Those two seem to be hanging out often no?" Maya asked the group, getting some strange looks from some of them. "Yeah-" Lucia answered "They're uhh..." she thought "friends" the attacker added. Nikita, who was close with Russo joked "Yup, they're friends allright" clearly implying that there was something going on with the flatmates. Some of them kept gossiping, but when Toone saw how sad Ona got by the conversation, she sat beside the fullback.

"You ok?" she asked quietly so nobody would pick up on their chatter "Oh- I'm fine" Ona replied slightly startled "Thinking about what I'm going to dress up as" she lied. "Mhm" Toone mumbled "So that face has nothing to do with the gossip?" she asked, already knowing the answer "I'm pretty sure there is nothing going on between them" she added. Ona, shocked at how much her teammate knew, asked "How would you know?" getting a reply from a mere gesture.

Toone pointed at Earps "If they were a thing, she would know about it" she stated "Have you noticed how quiet she is right now?" the midfielder continued. Parris saw the two of them talking, and decided to join "I'm joking by the way" she whispered "I could help you shoot your shot ya know" the forward suggested getting an instant reply from Toone "Yup, tonight we will wingwoman you" she added, not taking no for an answer "Dress as a hot cop" Parris suggested "We will do the rest" grabbing Toone away so they could plot their game plan.

Most of the players made it to the game night, Y/N and Russo being the last ones to arrive. "We're here" you burst through the door that was left open "And we brought booze" Russo cheared setting a beer case down on Toone's counter.

Ona was sitting on the couch next to Parris, playing some shooter game, getting a nudge on the shoulder from the forward "Imma go", the defender grabbed onto Parris's arm like her life depended on it "Don't leave me alone" she pleaded, the forward winked "I'm just making room for the protagonist" she replied calling you over "It's your turn to keep the Spaniard occupied". The opportunity got you smiling "Gladly" you replied grabbing the controller away from the forward's hands. "So what are we playing?" you asked Ona getting right into the game.

Thankfully, Ona had a successful career and her livelihood didn't depend on her gaming skills "Oh you're bad" you mocked the fullbacks abilities, getting a slight punch on the shoulder as an answer "I'm glad you're not a boxer either" you mocked the Spaniard strength "You're mean" she complained, you decided to flirt "and you like it"

The both of you kept making fun of each other during the night as you helped Ona in the game, teaching her how to win and all. Something that would come in handy for the tournament the players would have later on.

Toone announced the start of said tournament, making the teams as she pleased "I wanted to be with Y/N" Ona complained "She's too good at the game" the midfielder replied "But I'll allow her to be your coach", clearly that was part of her wingwoman duties.

As the tournament went on, Ona stuck on you, getting as many instructions as possible, celebrating every kill with you. Ona's team got to the final, it was her and Le Tissier against Galton and Russo. "Roommate alliance" Alessia stated, hoping you would have mercy and abandon Ona's team "Nope, she got to the final" you replied "She is winning it now" you were confident in what you had taught Ona "Way to put pressure on the girl" Galton replied hoping she could intimidate the Spaniard. "Shut it" you laughed as the players got ready for the final match.

Le Tissier, who was on her last life, stuck around Ona, hoping she would get some instructions from you, but those were only for Ona "Go that way" you instructed the fullback, allowing her to sneak behind their opponents and shoot them dead. "One more" Ona celebrated as she killed yet another character making you facepalm as you saw what she had done.

Realising that she was now alone, in game, against Galton and Russo, "She's dead" the Spaniard stated "I'm alone" she looked at you hopeless. You could only laugh at how lost Ona was, not understanding what was happening "Yeah-" you replied "You killed her" you laughed your ass off. Ona wasn't so pleased at the situation "2v1? It's not fair" she complained, to which Russo replied "You have Y/N, that isn't fair either".

"You can still pull this off" you motivated your trainee, getting closer to her, you whispered "Hand me the controller in a bit". In-game, Ona got closer to Galton's and Russo's characters, sneakily, she handed you the controller. In a matter of seconds, the game was won. Placing the controller on Ona's hands before anyone realised the swap, the fullback celebrated with you, jumping around in Toone's living-room, hand in hand.

"How were we meant to beat the dream team" Russo complained to which you replied "Sucks to suck" mocking her as you celebrated with your favourite Spaniard yelling dream team as you jumped around.

[pavardscherie]

hiii darlingg, can you write for raphael varane + the tiktok lipstick trend?? thankyou so so so much 💋💋

kisses all over you, raphael varane

⤷ pairing: raphael varane & female reader ⤷ summary: the tik tok lipstick trend with your boyfriend raphael.

⤷ izzy talks.

gotta admit, i'm so happy about all the requests about different players. sure, nothing tops benji, but I'm just really thankful you like the writing so much that you're requesting!

⤷ requests are open.

the strawberry-pink color blemished the left side of raphael's face. your delicate palm placed against his right cheek, holding him in place while your lips traveled over his forehead. stains of your lipstick left all over his beautiful, honey skin. the bright pink you chose, proved to be the perfect contrast to his natural tone.

a deep wine red would have vanished too quickly, and if you convinced yourself to post the created video, you wanted it to be perfect. at least, raphael needed to be covered in your choice of lipstick completely. "so, this is really necessary?" he questioned your process when you turned his head to the left to place more kisses all over the span of his right cheek.

"yes, it's what this trend is about. showing of my boyfriend, who's covered in my favorite lipstick." you commented between the gentle kisses, traveling down the side of his face until reaching his sharp jaw. "that's not your favorite one. you mostly wear the ruby one." you leaned back slightly, glancing upwards at your boyfriend. he had a single, bushy eyebrow raised at you, stating his observations over the past two years.

"you're so damn attentive." you chuckled, letting your hand slip from his face to admire your work of art. kisses covered most parts of his face, the forehead, the chin, and the spans of his cheek. the clear complexion blemished by the strawberry-pink stains, but it fit perfectly. "so, why not use the red one?"

"it's a dark shade, babe. i needed something bright for your beautiful, honey skin." you turned away from him with a smile, walking towards the table where your phone already waited for the recording session. the camera was open, and the sound was selected. "so, I'm just going to swoop into the video with my arm, to wipe away the little bit of pink, you'll overdraw with purpose?" raphael stalked after you, calling back the instructions you gave him before starting to cover him in strawberry pink.

if any of his teammates would have a chance to see him at this exact moment, the flashing light for pictures would never rest. he would be the greatest example to bring up the mood in the changing rooms. "yes. just use your thumb to wipe it off, and i will turn the camera to you with a smile." you glanced over your shoulders, taking in the image of your boyfriend who towered over you from behind. arms crossed over the chest, he burned the instructions into the back of his mind to remember what to do.

you did not think that raphael would accept the offer of being a guest in on of your tik tok's. most of the time, you did not post a video. it was the application you opened when you laid in bed, raphael already snoring softly from beside you but you could not find a peaceful sleep yet. so, scrolling through the comedic section of tik tok helped a lot until this trend covered the entire for you page and raised your interest in recreating it.

he did not understand why you wanted it to be perfect, he admired the little, unprepared videos in his camera roll. moments, he filmed when you had one of the worst fit of laughter, and rolled over the soft charcoal carpet in the living room. or finding you in the stands after a game, cheering for him in his jersey and he had the opportunity to capture the moment with his phone. but, if you wanted to do this little trend, like you called it, he wouldn't deny you the wish.

after all, raphael could never deny you anything.

"are you ready?" you asked over the shoulder, already holding the phone in your hands and the arms outstretched. raphael nodded, taking the place beside you but not standing in the picture yet. with a wide smile, you hit the record button and started to add another layer of strawberry-pink lipstick before drawing over your lips on purpose.

glancing to the side, raphael's arm appeared in the video, and the rough pad of his thumb wiped away the stain underneath your bottom lip. you relaxed under the smallest of his touches, closing the lids for merely a second as a gentle smile tugged on the corners of your mouth. when you opened your eyes, the video was almost over, and you quickly turned the camera towards the waiting raphael. he smiled widely, turning the face from left to right to present the kisses you left.

as the recording phase ended, you watched the rewind of the video, playing over and over again. "you almost ruined it there, babe." raphael commented, looking over your shoulder. his calloused finger pointed at the moment where your lids fell close, and you bathed in his gentleness. you snorted, not wanting to admit that recreating the video again could have been totally your fault.

raphael leaned down, his breath fanning over your neck and his chin placed on the space between shoulder and collarbone. "i'm glad, your body still has the same reaction to my touch." the football player whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss with his soft lips against the side of your throat.

[helen-with-an-a]

The object that stood in the way of a World Cup

Hi. So this is going to be a 2 part (maybe 3 part) story that I've had floating in my head for a while now.

It's angsty - I do want it to end with a fluffy end, but it's getting a little too long to be 1 thing ahahaha. Anyways.

Ona Batlle x Reader

TW: Angst, no direct mention of bad mental health, but it's clear R ain't ok.

Word count: 3.3k

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Flashbacks are written in Italics; for anyone not aware of the British school system GCSEs you take at 16 (you have 3 or 4 choice subjects and 5 or 6 compulsory subjects) and A-levels you take at 18 (you choose 3 or 4 subjects)

Description: R sees Ona again for the first time since their breakup

This is what you had been waiting for. All summer. All year. Hell, probably all your life. The World Cup Final. And the thought absolutely terrified you.

Your first thought after the final whistle wasn’t one of joy or happiness. You weren’t elated like Lessi or Tooney who barrelled into you and squeezed you so tight it hurt. You weren’t jumping for joy like Gee, Kiera and Lucy who manhandled you into the middle of their huddle. You weren’t screaming so loud your voice went hoarse like Hempo and Es. You weren’t standing in disbelief like Mearps and Millie.

Your first thought was of your ex- girlfriend, friend-with-benefits, situationship, Ona. Your first thought was of Ona. Spain had won against Sweden yesterday. And now you had won against Australia. The last time you had seen her was not a fun experience for you. Screaming. Tears. Spiteful words she didn’t mean. But that was the last time you spoke to her. It had been a long 8 months without her.

You weren’t quite sure what you were to each other when you were both at United. You had met on her first day. You were meant to be her buddy. The management had asked around during pre-season if anyone spoke any Spanish. You had done it at A-level, so you stuck your hand up. Barcelona was The Dream for you, so you had tailored your studies at school as much as you could to help you achieve it – taking Spanish at GCSE and A-level and continuing to watch Spanish shows and reading books to help you maintain it. You weren’t fluent but you knew enough that it would help Ona feel more comfortable. And you clearly had.

After winning the first derby of the season, the team had gone for drinks. Alcohol flowed, inhibitions were lost, and boundaries were blurred as Ona ended up in your bed. You had thought it would be a one-time thing. A drunken mistake that wasn’t much of a mistake to you. And it was … until it wasn’t. The next time it happened was at your birthday. And then her birthday. And then the end of the season. And then alcohol wasn’t a factor in taking you both to bed. She was suddenly all around you. Her jumpers were in your wardrobe. Her football boots were by the door. Her stuff was in the shower. Her snacks were in the cupboard. You had never spoken about what you were, but you drove her to training, she cooked you her mother's dishes, you snuggled into her side when watch your show, she slept in your bed every night.

And then it all came crashing down.

November 2022

You knew you needed to tell her as soon as possible. You wanted to tell her the news that had you pouncing on her the moment she stepped through the door. You were happy and giddy and so, so excited. You hadn’t thought that she wouldn’t be all of those things for you. You had made no secret that Barcelona was your dream. Everyone know that if Barcelona came knocking you would be gone without a doubt in your mind. You had received a phone call from your manager that afternoon.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you free to talk? There’s an offer for you.” Paul said down the phone. He sounded composed but happy, it intrigued you.

“Yeh, I’m free. What’s the offer? It’s mid-season though and I’m out of contract in the summer, why are they wanting to talk now?” You were questioning but not closed off. You knew joining a team mid-season would be hard but not impossible.

“Well… it’s Barca. They’ve but in an offer for you.” You were in complete shock. Barca wanted you. You were going to play for Barcelona. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. You screamed. It was the only thing you could think of. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?” Paul laughed. He knew Barca was the dream. He’d already written up the acceptance email.

“Oh my god! Of course it’s a bloody yes. I’m gonna play for Barcelona” You shouted.

“They want you to sign on the first day of the January signing window. It’ll be announced just after El Clásico. Is that ok with you? It gives you a couple of months to get everything sorted. And since United haven’t played in the Champions League, you aren’t cup tied or anything.”

You were floating on a cloud of happiness when the door clicked open. Ona was back from having a ‘Spanish Day’ with all the Spaniards living in Manchester. She had barely made it into the living room when you jumped her. Lips trailing everywhere you could reach. She laughed that gorgeous sound as you shoved her gently to the bedroom, her coat slipping off as you went.

You lay with your head against the pillows, hair fanned out to the side. You were sweaty and out of breath in the best way. Ona collapsed down next to you, her arms quickly wrapping around your waist.

“I had a phone call today.” You said nonchalantly. “From Paul,” you added as you tucked the duvet around the both of you. “There’s been an offer for me in the January window”. She looked at you expectantly. “Oni, Voy a jugar para el Barcelona” you breathed out. She stiffened in your arms.

“Qué quieres decir, amor?” She choked out after a few moments of silence, sitting up and moving away from you. You knew she wanted to go back to Spain, go back to Barca … but this was not the reaction you were expecting.

“Paul phoned. They’ve put in an offer for me for the January window. I’m signing on the 1st with it being announced after El Clásico.” You stated the facts. The simple outline of the facts that made you feel so, so happy.

“Are we not going to talk about this? You can’t leave in the middle of the season. United need you. We need you…. I need you, amor” She started off loud, angry, and upset, but by the end of the sentence it was barely a whisper. You had never seen Ona so… you could describe the look on her face. The way her body seemed slumped over in sadness.

“Hey… hey. No, don’t think like that. I’m here until the break. We’ve got a month or so. Everything will be fine, Oni. You are well aware that Barcelona is only a few hours on a plane. Everything will be fine!” She seemed to accept your comforting words.

But everything wasn’t fine.

There was a shift in the relationship arrangement whatever this was. Fewer jumpers were in your wardrobe. When she ran out of body wash, she didn’t replace it with a new bottle. Less of her snacks were added to your weekly shopping list. You still drove her to training but her music no longer blasted out of the speakers. She still cooked for you but there were never leftovers for the next day. She still slept in your bed, but she held onto your arm rather than curling up on top of you.

And then it was the Christmas break. Your last day at United. You weren’t sad to be leaving the club. But you were sad to be leaving the people. Of course, you knew you would see some of them during the international windows and whenever you came home but it wasn’t the same. Once again, the alcohol in your system led you to be on top of Ona. The first time you had done anything since you told her about your move. Something felt different this time. She was leaving to go back to Spain the following morning and you wouldn’t see her again before you left.

You woke up with a slight headache, but that wasn’t what pulled you from your sleep. Catalan came drifting across the flat. Ona was awake, and by the temperature of the bed, she had been for a while.

“Hey. Qué ocurre? Qué pasó?” She was pacing the living room, muttering away to herself. “Oni? Hey, estás bien?” She wasn’t paying any attention to you. “Ona”. Your hands rested on her shoulders, halting her scattered movements.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. You jumped at the harshness in her tone.

“What’s wrong, Oni?” You asked again.

“I can’t do this.” She answered back. Her tone just as sharp. You knew what she was implying but you hoped you were wrong.

“This being…?” You trailed off.

“Us.” She stated simply. You waited a heartbeat, hoping she would realise you would do anything for her.

“It’s not like there was really an ‘us’ to begin with!” She spat at you. You felt your heart begin to splitter into a thousand pieces. Ona was looking for an argument. She was terrified you’d leave her behind at Manchester without a second look. Ona was hopelessly in love with you. She had been for some time. It wasn’t fast or scary. It was subtle and peaceful. One day she had woken up next to you and she knew it was you. It would always be you. But she didn’t know if she was yours. You were never a tactile person but with Ona, you always had some form of body contact. She thought it little of it. She was Spanish after all, touching your friends was fairly normal – she didn’t realise that you didn’t hug Lessi or Tooney unless they forced themselves at you. She didn’t consider how you were quick to shake off Mary or Maya’s arms. To you, and to everyone else but Ona, it was really obvious that she was yours and you were hers. You just hadn’t had the ‘what are we’ conversation yet. She was also jealous. Barca wanted you. Her home wanted you. Not her. Never mind that her agents had mentioned that Barca wanted her in the summer when she was out of contract. Barca offered money for you. Barca wanted you so badly that they offered a record-breaking fee in the middle of a season. She was scared, angry and jealous. How was she to know that you rarely argued back with someone? How was she to know that your easy-going nature was a result of growing up in a household where shouting was the norm? How was she to know that your mild-mannered temperament was due to your habit of placating your family to stop the noise? You had never told her that particular part of your childhood.

So, she hit you where she knew it would hurt the most, hoping to get a reaction out of you. “Eres sólo un polvo rápido. Fácil. Nada mas para mi. Something to pass the time. I don’t even know why Barca want you, honestly. No eres lo suficientemente buena.” She waited for a reply, but none came. She waited for you to lash out at her. Snap. Do something to make this … breakup? … easier. She wanted to be able to hate you in the same way she was trying to make you hate her. She did the second most painful thing she could think of. She spun on her heels and marched out the door.

You knew she was lying… you think. You hoped she was lying. You knew Ona could get mean when she was upset or scared. You had witnessed it after a particularly bad game – her harshness, her biting words. But she had said those words with such conviction, and you couldn’t think of a reason as to why she would be scared or upset. It had been a wonderful night. Laughter, soft touches exactly where you needed them, and love. You could feel the love between the two of you. Every lingering touch, every passionate kiss, ever whispered word. Everything was done with love, for the pure enjoyment of the other. Everything was perfect.

You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Was that all you were to her? Did the late nights mean nothing to her? Did the secrets you whispered into her hair mean anything? Were all the promises she made you lies? Was everything she ever said to you just so she could get her regular fix? Did she really think you weren’t good enough for Barcelona? She knew her opinion of you and your football meant a lot to you. Was every reassurance that you were good enough for the starting XI mean nothing? Was every calming word when you were waiting for Sarina’s call false? Did she genuinely think that you weren’t good enough?

You were in a daze all throughout Christmas. Seeing you family was fun, but you couldn’t shake the clouds in your mind. When you met with the some of the Lionesses in Manchester in between Christmas and New Year, everyone could tell something was wrong. You were normally on the quieter side, preferring to listen rather than speak. But you didn’t really do either. You were just there; not contributing to conversations or laughing along like you usually would. Something was wrong but no one knew what. And then you were on a plane, staring out the window as you watched Spain get closer and closer. You had never been to Spain outside of camps and tournaments. Ona had promised to take you there, to show you Barcelona, to show you her home. But you had to make it your home without her by your side.

And now you were about to play Ona in a World Cup Final.

Lucy knew something was eating at you in the days leading up to the final. She had phoned Leah to come to the hotel to cheer the whole team up and boost morale. It had worked for the other girls but not you. Kiera phoned Alexia as well. But the comforting words had washed straight over you. Everyone thought that it was because you were facing the Barca girls. No one in Barcelona knew of your history with Ona beyond that of teammates at United. If she was ever in town for a quick break, you always, miraculously, had other plans you couldn’t get out of. They didn’t know you lied and hid yourself away in your flat – moving your car a few streets along and leaving your phone off so the location couldn’t be tracked. You’d even gone so far as to phone up Hayley Raso in Madrid to ask if you could come visit her when you found out Ona would be at a team bonding event due to her free schedule coinciding with game-less weekend for Barca. Hayley was a little confused, but you were close enough friends from your time at Manchester that she didn’t question it.

Ona’s words had stayed with you. Every time you failed gave the ball away, passed a too-wide cross, or missed a shot on goal, her words echoed in your mind. You’re not good enough. The venom lacing her tone permeated your brain. You pushed yourself hard then ever before. You went for runs before training to improve your stamina, stayed late to practice free kicks and penalties. You lifted heavier weights and broke your old PBs in the gym. You were eating correctly and always seemed cheery enough, so no one really questioned it. Slowly the muscles started to grow. You were always on the stockier side, the muscles you had slowly built up helping you with your defence. But now you were really built. Your muscles were obvious, even under looser fitting clothes. Not that you really wore loose clothes anymore. At first, it was because everyone on the team, everyone in Barcelona, looked good. Their styles were just rubbing off on you, you had justified to yourself. But eventually, the tops became tighter and shorter. The trousers became low rise, and the hemlines became higher. The Barca Glow Up (and Lotte had coined it) was definitely real. You told yourself it was for you. The clothes you were wearing, the muscles you liked to show off, was because you were proud of them. Which you were. But you couldn’t lie to yourself for long. The Barca media frequently posted game day fits. You knew Ona followed Barca. You knew you would appear on her timeline. Yes, you were a little more tired than you used to be. But that was fine. You didn’t tell anyone the words that rattled around in your head when you were alone. You were fine. Everything was fine. You were playing the best football of your life at Barca. You were a key part of their defence, making your way into the Starting XI quickly and constantly proving your worth in every game.

You were fine. Ok, you hadn’t had sex, or even looked at another girl, since Ona arriving in Spain. Ok, you had to have some form of noise constantly in the background because every time there was silence your thoughts drifted back to Manchester. Ok, you couldn’t be around Ingrid and Mapi or anyone else in a relationship for too long otherwise you might start crying. Ok, you were still very much broken hearted. But you were fine. You weren’t necessarily good, but you were fine

The morning of the final, you were quiet. But everyone was, even Tooney. The buzz of anticipation. The air of expectation. Everyone was doing their own pre-match routine. You had followed yours to the letter. A gentle walk alone this morning followed by breakfast. A full bottle of water on the coach to the stadium. Pitch inspection with Less and Tooney. Warm up with Lucy and Millie. Hair slicked into a bun. A spray of perfume and into the tunnel to walk out.

She was standing just a head of you. Perfect. Breath-taking. Even with her game face on and her concentration as Irene spoke to her, you could see the usual kindness in her features. Those soft warm eyes that you had been lost in far too often. The freckles that littered her skin that you had traced and played dot-to-dot with as you laughed sleepless nights away. The braid that you used to tug on to get her attention before a match that always made her smile and break her focus. You knew you were still desperately in love with her. You shook your head. You couldn’t let her get to you. Not now. Your walls went back up as you pushed all thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t your Oni – even though you knew in your heart she would always be that to you –, she was the object that stood in your way of a World Cup. As Jess and Alex pulled your attention away from the Spanish players, you missed her looking at you.

She knew you had more muscle than before but seeing you in the flesh was something else. Your eyes that have the ability to truly look at a person, looked a little more tired than she was used to. The genuine smiled that was a defining feature for you was replaced with a hard line and a smirk every now and again. She thinks you have had a haircut since being in Barca – your bun wasn’t as big as it used to be in Manchester. She wanted nothing more than to trace her fingers gently over the new scar just above your eyebrow. She knew exactly how you got it. She watched every game of yours, live if she could – on repeat if she couldn’t. You had collided with a player during Chelsea Champions League match. She had been so terrified she almost picked up the phone to call you several times. She did play a little more brutally the next time she faced Chelsea. She had been carded after she left a particularly nasty tackle on the girl that had hurt you. She didn’t know that you also watched all of her games. She didn’t know that you also wanted to phone her after that match but was so scared of her rejection. But right now, you weren’t her Amor – even though you would always be that to her –, you were the object that stood in her way of a World Cup.

Part 2 will probably be out fairly quickly as a lot of it is already written but yeh

[alotofpockets]

Jealousy | Mary Earps

Pairing: Mary Earps x Reader

Summary: Mary introduces you to a few of your teammates but ends up getting jealous when you get along with them well.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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After a few months of dating Mary, she invited you over to her place to meet some of her England teammates. Since the girls played all over, you hadn't met many of them. You had already met her teammates at United on a few occasions, as you loved going to watch Mary play. So, the only familiar face next to your girlfriend’s would be her United teammate Ella Toone.

You ring Mary’s doorbell, and the girl opens the door with a big smile plastered on her face, “Hi baby.” She pulls you into a hug, and closes the door behind you. “How are you feeling?” You were sitting on the couch now, with Mary’s arm across the back of it. “I'm a little nervous about meeting your friends but overall I am doing well. How about you?” Mary’s arm wraps around your shoulder, “I’m doing good, and you don’t have to be nervous, they are going to love you.” Mary had just finished her sentence when the doorbell rang. 

A cheery Beth walked into the house, “Hi mate, it’s good to see you.” She hugged Mary at the door. Mary walked her in and introduced the two of you right away. You held out your hand for Beth to shake but the girl greeted you with a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mary has been talking my ears off about you, and that says a lot as I am usually the talkative one.” The blonde jokes. “All good things I hope.” Beth places a hand on your shoulder, “Only good things, don’t you worry. Mary is heads over heels for you.” You blush at the words, hearing that Mary talked about you so highly to her friends meant a lot. 

You continue your conversation with Beth, getting to know each other a little better, while Mary heads to the door again. Leah walks in next and greets you with a hug, similar to Beth. “It’s good to meet you, y/n.” You smile at the girl, “Likewise.” Before Mary can sit down, the doorbell rings again. “So, the both of you play for the same club, right?” You ask Beth and Leah, who are now sitting with you on the couch. “Oh yeah, Beth and I go way back.” 

“Y/n!” Ella yells your way, as she rushes to give you a hug. “It’s so good to see you again. We missed you at the game on Sunday.” You heard a chuckle from behind Ella, “You’ve gotta at least let her breathe if you want her to let you know why she wasn’t there.” Ella realises then that she’s still hugging you tightly, ‘Right, sorry, I got too excited.” Alessia stepped forward and gave you a quick hug, “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Alessia. Don’t mind Tooney here, sometimes she forgets that people have lives outside of watching us play football.” The comment earns the girl a playful hit on the arm by none other than Ella herself. 

You were having a blast getting to know your girlfriend's teammates, the girls were very easy to like, and the conversation flowed easily. Alessia helped Mary in the kitchen with cooking, while Leah helped you set the table. Beth and Ella were deep into a discussion that no one was interested in interrupting. 

When the table is set, you walk into the kitchen to check if everything is going well. “You seem tense, darling.” Your hands instantly reach for Mary’s shoulders and you massage them slightly. “I forgot to buy the sauce for the pasta, and we have nothing in the pantry to make sauce with.” She says, letting out a frustrated sigh. “No worries, I will go to the store and get some right away.” You quickly peck her cheek, and head back to the living room. “Hey, I’m heading to the store really quick.” You tell Leah, “Do you want to tag along?” You subtly nod in Beth and Ella’s direction, who are still having a heated discussion. “Yes, please.” The girl jokes back to you.

The trip to the store was short, as the grocery store was right around the corner. You had asked Leah about her family, and she told you all about her little brother that was currently living in Australia. You could tell that she loved her family very much, and it was a joy to listen to her talk about them. The conversation was still going when you had arrived back at Mary's apartment. Leah follows you into the kitchen, so your conversation doesn’t need to stop. “Here you go, darling.” You say as you hand Mary the jar. You give her a quick kiss on her cheek, before you head back to the living room with Leah. 

Mary looks after you with a feeling a way she hadn’t felt before. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was either, so she decided to put her focus back on the food. When Mary and Alessia had plated the food, and set the plates down on the table, you and Leah were still deep in conversation. Of course, you stopped for a moment to thank the girls for the food, and for a quick toast, but you soon fell back into easy conversation with the striker. 

Unbeknownst to you, Mary kept glaring at you and Leah. You were too deep into the conversation to notice the change in her behaviour at first, but when your attention was pulled to the conversations around the table, you noticed that Mary wasn’t really joining in on the conversation. You place your hand down on her thigh, but unlike the usual smile or her hand meeting yours, the gesture was met with a stoic look. You made a mental note to ask her about it later, not wanting to get into anything while her teammates were over. 

The food was amazing, you thanked both Alessia and Mary again for their efforts in the kitchen. Everyone helped clean up, and soon after they were getting ready to head back home. Leah hands you her phone, “Here, put your number in, and I’ll send you those links.” You quickly type in your contact info, before handing her phone back, and hugging her goodbye. You also hug the rest of the girls, and thank everyone for a great night.

You wanted to cuddle up to your girlfriend the moment that the front door closed, but Mary walked away and sat down at the dinner table before you could. Taking a seat beside her, you put your hand on her knee. “What’s going on, darling?” She shrugs, “Why don’t you ask Leah?” Confusion takes over your face. “Why would I ask Leah, what’s going on with you?” You had never seen Mary like this before, and it worried you. “You’re clearly into her as the two of you talked the whole day, and I even saw you exchange phone numbers.”

It started to click for you then. “You’re jealous of Leah?” Her eyes shot up to yours. “Darling, I’ve been talking with Leah because I love you, you goober. I was just trying to get to know your friends. And for the number exchange, we were talking about some places we have travelled to, and she was going to recommend some places, so I could take you there. I’m sorry if it looked differently, darling. I promise that I only have eyes for you.” Mary’s demeanour changed when she realised that her jealousy was misplaced. 

“Oh, thank god.” She exhales and brings you in for a hug. “I was so scared you’d like her more, and that we would be over.” You shake your head. “Never going to happen, I have everything I’ve ever wanted with you by my side.” Hearing those words did Mary good. She connected your lips in a passionate kiss. Her previous jealousy meant that she wanted to show you how much she loved you. 

-----

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[strawberryblue-blog]

She's mine too —Mason Mount.

summary: annoying days of pregnancy with mason

warning: none. pregnancy, vomiting, discomfort.

words count: +1.5k

#SEXYNOTE: Merry belated Christmas and early happy new year y'all 💌 thanks for the support, i hope you are well. love youuuu 🩵

You hugged the toilet after spitting up all the dinner of the night between sobs, you sighed taking a big breath of air, feeling your stomach churning again. It was the fifth time you had gotten up to vomit in the night and you were really exhausted. For at least a week you had been feeling this way but in the last two days, it had gotten worse and you couldn't even feed yourself properly as you ended up vomiting.

Did your son or daughter hate you? It was practically thanks to you that he or she was coming into this world, and this is how he or she thanked you? By making you spit out everything you ate? By making you feel so fragile and silly at the same time? You wanted to stay cheerful, positive and full of energy but your baby was slowly consuming you. This was nothing like what you used to hear about pregnancies.

You had never been through anything before and it really scared you. The doctor had said it was normal as long as you had constant checkups and you just had to put up with it, even though it was very hard for you and especially for Mason. Sometimes he felt that what he was doing for you wasn't enough and he hated to see you suffer but it wasn't his fault and it would pass. You sighed whimpering a little, anyone would say you were exaggerating a little (and maybe you were) but you were really suffering. Since four months ago your body had changed, your fears had become constant, dizziness, mood swings, tiredness, breast pain, you had even become irritable. Sometimes you felt guilty but it was inevitable, the baby was running your life (Not really).

But you had no regrets.

Being a mother had been one of your dreams growing up, you used to say you wanted to be like your mother and you really hoped you would be for this child. You were discovering this whole new world and you have to admit you thought it would be something else, at least you had a great man by your side. Mason used to make your endless days, the best experience of your life. He would massage your feet, fulfill your every whim, pamper you and take care of you like you were a princess.

You couldn't complain, you were perfect together and starting a family with him was another one of your biggest dreams. Because you loved everything about him, about the relationship, the respect and love you had. Because you admired how strong and respectable he was and how he behaved with you, your family and friends. Because you were in love with him and that your son had him for a father, it was the biggest pride you could feel.

A hand on your back caressed you, pulling your hair back into a makeshift bun. Mason held your hair and calmed your nerves as he appeared behind you. You hated waking him up in the middle of the night with your retching, especially since you knew he'd have to get up early in the morning but Mason was always with you.

"Don't tease me like that" you laughed exhaustedly after a while. "That's the reason i'm here, puking up everything i ingest."

Mason hid a chuckle behind his smile, trying not to laugh at your funny comment because of the situation you were going through. But it was inevitable, even in misery you were saying funny things to him.

"You suggested doing it, honey. If you had stuck it out, we wouldn't be here," he replied, earning a pout from you.

And it was true. Maybe if they hadn't had too many drinks that night and you hadn't been so horny, nothing would have changed and you wouldn't have found yourself right now. But you wanted this as much as he did, because you were talking about this and about the future, and this was the future, you becoming parents.

After a while without nausea, Mason took you in his arms, slowly carrying you toward the bed. He handed you a glass of water and when you drank some, he helped you lie down on the soft sheets, arranging the pillows on your back to make you comfortable.

"I must look terrible" you whispered a little shaken. Your cheeks were red, your forehead sweaty and you sure looked gross right now. Mason quickly denied.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world" he murmured with his eyes sparkling. "You'll bring our child, you could never look terrible" his fingers caressed your face. A smile appeared on your lips as he kissed your forehead softly.

He took his place beside you, resting his head on your belly as he wrapped his arms around you. One of his hands caressed the protruding bump, which was growing bigger and bigger every day. You didn't know the sex of the baby yet but everything was within the norm for a pregnancy, something you were grateful for, and they were supposed to have news about the baby by the next visit.

"Baby, leave mommy alone for a while, okay? She's mine too" he whispered towards her son or daughter, drawing a smile from you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks. Your chest overflowed with feelings seeing him there and your heart filled with happiness at the image.

Mason on top of his baby, caressing your skin with his warm fingers, his eyes shining in his wonderful gaze. The reason for your happiness in front of you, your whole world. Your eyes filled with tears and you try not to cry but you were sensitive, everything hit you double, more when it was about your son and your boyfriend.

You were both terrified, you weren't going to lie, but since the test had come back positive and after a few months of waiting, you were ready for what was to come. You had learned to love each other, you had each other, you trusted each other and you were walking on the same side. Everything had been easier, since you knew Mason, you were always supporting and loving each other.

"The boys want it to be a boy to teach him to play football but honestly i want it to be a girl" Mason whispered turning back to your chest, still her hand held on the baby, caressing it.

"Is that what you want?" you asked with a giggle. Mason nodded. "Even Summer would take care of her and teach her" you mentioned and your heart fluttered with love as you imagined your boyfriend's niece with your daughter or son.

Mason smiled hugely.

"I want a boy too, of course. But we'll have time to bring him along after the baby girl" he joked with a grimace. You laughed out loud.

You were excited for the arrival of their son or daughter, they were counting the days since they had found out and memories were piling up in their memories of this special time. The wait was going to be hard but it would definitely be worth it when you had him or her with you.

[leah-lover]

Built-up frustration. Mary earps × reader.

Smut 18+

Mary frustrated after a derby loss and she takes it out on reader.

Saying Mary is disappointed would be an understatement. After yet another Manchester derby loss, the whole team was disappointed. The team knew that Mary was always hard on herself and was gonna blame all the 3 goals that were scored on herself. So they weren't surprised when she directly went to the changing room after the final whistle blew. I on the other hand was more tired and numb than angry. Football had become a nightmare rather than a joy. Mark had been so very hard on us as of late. We were running ourselves through the ground trying to make up for losses, not disappointing our fans and ourselves. It was all too much, too much responsibility, too much to make up for, I just wanted to shut it all off. However, I had a team that counted on me. I was the captain, I had to be strong for all of them. 

After shaking hands with our rivals and doing media duties, I headed to the changing room, showered, and got dressed. Since Mary got there before me she changed, and was waiting for me to finish. 

We said our goodbyes to the girls and headed to our car.

We managed to stay silent throughout the whole car ride. Since our house was far away from the stadium, I put my head on Mary’s shoulder while she was driving. However, her hand didn't find its usual place on my thigh, it was placed on the center console. I didn't give it much attention deciding that she just needed her space for now.

When we arrived home, we went by our usual routine. Mary put our stuff away while I heated our dinner. Lost in my own mind, I didn't pay attention to the fact that Mary and I haven't spoken since before the game. I only realized that while eating my dinner that he had not touched any of .

“ Baby, talk to me.” I started while reaching out for her hand.

“There isn't much to say, “ she responded.

Her response shocked me. Yes, she was hard on herself but I have never seen her like this. 

“ Honey, please don't do this. I love you. You need to talk to me, you need to get these feelings out of your chest. You have been a prisoner to them for far too long.” I said, a small smile on my face. 

“ What do you want me to say? I am shit, a disappointment, I don't deserve you, I don't want to do this. Please just don't make me talk. Please.” She pleaded.

I then quickly got up, put her hand in mine and led her up to our bad room.

Once we got there, I let go of her hand and sat on our shared bed.

“ You always say that I am your good girl. Let me help you Mary.” I say as I undress myself starting from my shirt. 

“ I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best that I have ever seen. You need to get this out of your system so that you can love the game again.” I said as I sat completely naked.

With a helpless look on her face she said” I don't want to hurt you.” 

“ I am your good girl. I will take whatever you give me.” I responded.

And with that she launched me back on our bed. 

We quickly started kissing. The kiss was hungry, messy, and almost violent. We proceeded to make out for a while while her hand rubbed my side and traced all over my body.

“ Mary please, I need you so bad.” I pleaded.

She then ,while still making out with me, reached for the drore wear she kept her strap.

After undressing herself, she wore the harness. She unusually took the biggest strap she had which she rarely used. After the harness was secured she said with the raspiest voice. “ Now you are gonna be a good girl and show me how much you need me.” 

That was my que, I left the bed, got on my knees, and started to suck on her strap. It was too big for my mouth so I was stroking it slowly. Mary, not happy with my pace, grabbed the back of my head and started to thrust in my mouth roughly. Lost in her own thoughts, she continued to thrust even harder and deeper. I was about to tap out when she said “that’s a good girl, taking what I give her without any complaint, you deserve a reward my darling.” 

She then got out of my mouth, and helped me up the bed. 

Without warning she spread my legs and slid the tip of her strap in me. The feeling was supring and painful. However my arousal helped it fit right inside me.

Mary was on top of me thrusting harder and harder with each second. It's like she was fucking all her pain, shame and insecurity out of me. 

“ I need to come Mary please let me come.” I pleaded.

“ Hold on for me baby girl.” She replied while still thrusting harder.

After a little bit I couldn't hold on any more.

“ Baby please let me come please.” I pleaded with tears in my eyes.

“Okay, come for me darling.” She said,

I quickly held on to her shoulders as I came.

Mary’s consciousness seemingly came back to her, she got out of me, took off the harness, and held me.

" I am so sorry darling, I was hard on you. The strap was too big and I was too rough. I am so sorry.” She said as she held close to her chest.

“ It’s okay darling. I love you. Please never shut me off again.” I replied.

“ I am gonna go prepare a bath. I will be quick.” she said before leaving only to come back a few minutes later to carry me to the bath.

“ I will do anything for you baby.” I said as I nuzzled my head in her head.

“ That’s why you are my good girl. the girl that I love.” She replied.

[trulyhblue]

Girl(friends)

Lauren Hemp x Aussie! Reader

Warnings: fluff, coarse language, awkward, OG Man City

A/N — I'm in a Hempo phase rn so be prepared. Short one today x

______________________

You dreaded the days when you weren't playing football.

It was the one thing you couldn't live without, your adoration for the sport was larger and more demeaning than anything else. The solidarity, solace, and peace you found in running up down the wing, the ball at your feet. The feeling of utter elation when the ball went into the goal, past a defender, through the goalkeeper's reach. The celebrations, the assists, and everything else in between.

You could talk forever about football.

Except on Media Days.

You hated the unknown of it. You had managed to excuse yourself beforehand from most of these shoots since you weren't among the best-known players of the club — save that for Keira, Gee, and Lucy. But on the rare occasion that you were chosen for the quick photoshoot or challenge with one or more of the girls, you remained relatively quiet, speaking when you must and laughing when you should. You had no trouble with any of the girls, it was just in front of the public's view, and you were squirmish.

You pulled yourself out of bed after hitting snooze thrice, hearing Alanna ramp on downstairs. You made sure to stay in bed for another ten minutes. You changed into your team's tracksuit and a random top, making your way downstairs, slouching into one of the stools by the kitchen counter.

"Oh, wow." Alanna chuckled, holding out a coffee towards you. "You look delighted. Excited for today, are we?"

You simply offered her a grimace, taking a large sip of your coffee, hoping the taste would clear your evident distaste for the day ahead.

Alanna was a social butterfly. She was used to feeding into the Media's hand whenever they came becking. Most of the City girls were the same, it was a very jovial team that trusted one another well enough to have fun in the security of their job.

All the girls had arrived by the time Alanna and you had trampled in, wearing matching blue kits. Hayley was laughing with Georgia in front of a couple of cameras, a ball at their feet as they struggled to keep the ball off the floor. Gee tried to kick at the Aussie's feet, by didn't catch the ball in time to get the point. Raso threw her hands up in triumph, the cameras panning to Gee rolling around on the floor.

On the other side of the indoor training field were Lucy and Keira, standing around a giant-sized game of Janga, talking to the PR Managers behind the camera as they posed questions to the two of them as they played. Alex, Lauren and Chloe were sitting by a desk, on their phones as they waited for their turn to be called up.

The gush of blood that rushed to your cheeks when Lauren smiled towards you sent Alex and Chloe into a fit of giggles. The duo were always around to tease the two of you with your beyond-obvious, mutual pining. You wouldn't call it embarrassing, but there were certainly times when one of you would go out of your way to gain the other’s attention.

When you first met, Lauren tried to give you a tour of the facilities, but she ended up getting both of you lost. She apologised over and over profusely, and she dreaded the awful, first impression she had left you with.

You and Alanna sat beside them, greeting them with conversation before falling into a satisfied silence. Your next game was the Manchester Derby against United. The team had been training non-stop this past week, today is the first day without strenuous drills and exercises. Nevertheless, it was still a day at work, and to be honest, you'd rather be sweating ten times over than talking to a camera.

The thought of doing a video alone daunted you as you watched Hayley and Gee from afar. On a regular day, Hayley would be your Media Partner; the two of you always did videos with one another. On the odd day that you didn't, it'd be Alanna. If not Alanna, it was with a group of you. Now that you thought about it, the two Aussie girls were the only ones you had done a video with one-on-one. The feeling of someone different was tormenting. As the five of you sat silent on your phones, you hoped and prayed all of you would be doing a video together.

While you kept to yourself for the most part, save for the Aussie girls, you would go out of your way to make sure Lauren was your partner in drills. You’d try your hardest when she was watching, and vice versa. The blonde would hit the ball as hard as she could into the back of the net, and you’d be that landed with the assist. In games, you had been quickly dubbed as a duo due to the chemistry you seemed to have in the game. Fans would swarm at any interaction you’d have with her.

But to their dismay — and apparently most of your teammates — you and Lauren had never been in a video together.

But, to your surprise, you spoke too soon.

"Alright, Ladies, are you ready?" One of the PR girls came up with an iPad, scrolling through whatever it was she was looking for, and glancing up. You noticed Lauren straightening up beside you, holding her arms over her chest, waiting for the woman to finish her sentence.

You found yourself catching sight of the slight furrow in the girl's eyebrows; the concern written all over her face. You knew she was worried, and you supposed you were too. "We've got Greenwood, Kelly, and Kennedy over there. You've got interviews."

You tried not to look too relieved at the news, hiding the smile in response to the girl's identical groans. No one liked Interviews. They were serious, solemn, and no fun whatsoever. It was always boring questions about your job as a Midfielder, or how you maintained a balanced life outside of football. It wasn't the fans' favourite video to watch at all, but it was more for the professional side of it than the Media. Everyone had to do it. You were just glad that today it wasn't you.

"Hempo and Y/l/n, we've got an auto-complete interview."

"That's not fair, those are so much better," Alanna whined at that, throwing her head back like a toddler. "Hempo, surely we swap."

Lauren pursed her lips together, cheeks going a bit red at all the eyes on her. Alex and Chloe waited for her response, a smirk aligned on each of their faces.

"Nah, leave her Lani." Alex sounded, prodding the blonde with her elbow.

Lauren's cheeks went a deeper red when Chloe laughed. "Hempo's been wanting to do this for ages."

"Shut up, Kelly." Lauren snapped in a mutter, turning away to march off towards the direction of the lone white background and chairs. You turned to see the two Brits giggling to themselves, dragging Alanna over to the back doors.

"Have fun, Y/n/n."

"Hope you're as excited as Hempo!"

You shrugged them off, sauntering over to the set-up. Lauren was already sitting on a stool, playing with the rings on her fingers, wearing a prominent scowl.

"Are you alright?" You asked, sitting on the spare chair, tensing when you accidentally knocked your knee with hers.

Her pale cheeks disappeared, replaced with the blush you saw from before. "Yes, they're just annoying. Very annoying."

"Having a laugh, I 'spose." You reasoned, though the blonde didn't come off as too convinced. "But you're right, they're silly."

The blonde simply hummed in response, the both of you listening to the man behind the camera.

"Okay, guys, this is really straightforward." He said, readjusting the camera as he spoke. "You just got to introduce yourselves before you start, then we'll give you a board full of questions and you've just got to answer them. All good?"

Everyone watched the two of you nod. No one could deny the definitive awkwardness between the two of you, and the obvious hesitance toward what you were about to do. It was safe to say neither of you was fit to talk on and on, especially under the scrutiny of viewers.

You didn't know the cameras were already recording, choosing to fiddle with your hands as you waited. You could tell by the definitive look on Hempo's face that she was just as reluctant as you were. The blonde glanced at you from the corner of her eye, shuffling in her chair before she muttered towards you.

"You have an eyelash."

You spun to face her. "What?"

Lauren's face reddened, her beady brown eyes widening at your sudden response.

Without thinking, she pulled her hand out from her pocket, reaching to pinch something off your face. She was gentle when pulling away, holding her finger up to reveal the eyelash she had picked. She watched as you blew it off, giggling meekly at the benevolent interaction.

"You ready?" One of the people asked behind the camera, making the two of you leave your intimate bubble. "When you're ready."

Lauren nodded towards you. "You can start."

You sighed, trying to hide the smile that crammed your lips. "Hello, my name is Y/N, and this is Lauren Hemp," You waited for the blonde to finish your sentence, but when you were met with silence, you took one look at her stupefaction and continued. "And today we're going to be doing a... what is it?"

Lauren lifted up one of the boards that balanced against the end of her chair. She picked it up, surveying it, reading out the bulk letters at the top. "An auto-complete interview."

"Right. That's what we're doing."

The two of you left the introduction at that, an empty silence vacating the set.

Thankfully, a voice sounded from behind the camera. "Who's starting?"

Lauren shrugged, filling the ungainly silence. "I can."

You both stared at the board in between you. "I think you peel them off." You spoke, motioning at the tape that covered half the sentences. Lauren took your advice, skinning the first sticker to reveal the question.

"Who is Lauren Hemp's team?" You read out, making both of you giggle. "Oo, that's a good question."

"I play for Manchester City." Lauren played with the tape in her hand as answered. "But I play for England in the National Team."

She peeled off the second one, waiting for you to read it. "Who is Lauren Hemp's favourite teammates?" You spoke, rubbing your head in deceitful confusion.

Lauren laughed, glimpsing at you with a beaming smile. "We haven't known each other for long."

"Yes, but I'm very charismatic." You shook your head, sighing. "But go on, who is it?"

"Well," She thought to herself for a second. "I'm close with all the girls but... I'd have to say Esme, of course. She's my best friend."

"No brainer, clearly." You made a point to roll your eyes, huffing about, but it was plain to see that you were only joking. "Alright, who is Lauren Hemp's... boyfriend?"

There was a bit of an awkward interlude, leaving everyone looking around the pitch. Lauren, however, fell into a cynical fit of laughter, with you following shortly after.

"No boyfriends for me."

You didn't know why, but your stomach recoiled at the thought of Lauren with someone. It was a great relief to hear that she wasn't. "None at all?" You couldn't help but ask.

Lauren was quick to reply. "No, no boys... or girls at all."

"Right." You replied, placing the board onto the floor, hoping no one was noticing the pink across your cheeks. "Who's next?"

The next board was displayed between the two of you like before, except this time, your name was typed across it. Lauren shuffled closer to you, pinning the board to her side. “Go on then.”

You peeled the first question off. “Who is Y/N Y/L/N’s favourite team?”

Lauren looked at you, laughing when you were silent. “Well, I'm not answering, you are.”

“Yeah, well, hold on, I'm thinking.” You scoffed, pretending to whack the girl playfully with your board. She swatted you away, grabbing the board from where it rested on your thigh and smiled.

“I'm gonna say the Matildas because why else,” You could hear the Blonde’s indistinguishable disapproval, clicking her tongue. You’d later find out when watching the clip that she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest affectionately. “But yeah, my childhood club was Sydney FC, so I’ll stick with my roots.”

“But she plays for City,” Lauren added, both of you giggling at your ambiguity. You never liked these types of questions, especially when the media took them out of context. You love City with all your heart, but it was easy for people to twist things and make it out that you didn't mean what you said.

“But I play for City, yes, and I love it.” You repeated, proceeding in ripping off each of the stickers as the game went on.

Lauren was patient when it wasn’t her go, adding in her opinion and a subtle joke every so often, basking in your immediate reaction each time. You bounced off one another like wildfire, seemingly knowing what the other was going to say before it was said. You were intellectual in what you shared, favourite meals, celebrity crushes, words of advice — pretty much anything the questions asked. Without knowing, you and Lauren discovered more and more about each other without directly asking. Your relationship blossomed, even with the presence of the cameras, into something tangible, free, and warm.

When it got to the end, you were still holding the board, fiddling with its edges as Lauren wrapped up the last of her questions. Somehow, you felt a little upset that the video was coming to an end. You wanted these questions to keep on coming. You would spend hours listening to the girl talk about what she loved and who she was. But by the time the last question lingered, you feel into comfortable silence.

Ever so slowly, Lauren inched her hand closer to the board you were holding, brushing her pinky and ring finger across your thigh as she did so. You pretended to conceal your flustered state by smiling, giving her the board to chuck away.

You didn't know how you coped when you felt Lauren keep her hand on your thigh.

“Well, that's the end of the video,” She finished, looking towards the camera, then to you.

You smiled back at her. “We hope you enjoyed and if you what to see more—”

“Well there's no more videos of us.”

“But go check the channel anyway.”

“Bye!”

_________________

manchestercity

manchestercity — watch our fan-fav duo answer your questions on our youtube channel!!! 🩵🩵🩵

Coming out later today 💪🏻💪🏻

tagged: laurenhemp, yourusername

Comments:

alexgreenwood — I'm as excited as @ laurenhemp, right @ chloekelly???

^ chloekelly — the real ones know 😂

^ user19 — what r they talking about Lol???????

^ chloekelly — yeah, Hempo, what are we talking about?

^ laurenhemp — STOP

User1 — they are so cute omg

^ user2 — IKKKKK

user22 — Alex and Chloe’s comments?

^ user25 — they know something we don't

^ alexgreenwood 👀

^ user22 — HELP

yourusername — hope you all enjoy 🩵

^ manchestercity — 🩵

laurenhemp — thanks for having us!

^manchestercity — 🩵

^ user3 — the blue heart is just so 😍

User4 — “you've got an eyelash.” “what?” UGH THE SOFTNESS OMG

^ user5 — the way Y/N lets Hempo brush it off and blow it away 😭😭

^ user6 — they definitely had no idea they were recording.

user7 — OKAY ADMIN FINALLY FEEDING US WITH THE HEMPO x Y/N CONTENT

^ user8 — RIGHTTTTT LIKE IM HERE FOR IT

user10 — they will win us the league.

^ user11 — why didn't they work together sooner?

^ user10 — fr

laurenhemp (pretend its you, luv u keira)

laurenhemp — winner winners

tagged: yourusername

Comments are limited.

Yourusername — stargirl 🌟

^laurenhemp — 🫶🏼

alexgreenwood — yeah the girl(friends)

^ chloekelly — yeah the friends…

__________________________________

A/N — this was really rushed and cut up but there isn't enough Hempo fics out there. I rlly didn't do her justice tn 🫠

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

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

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

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

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

Chelsea added to their story.

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

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

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

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

Although he never was.

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

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

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

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

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

He was too busy thinking about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—I’m alright.

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

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

—Thank you, really. 

—Mase...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—I’m in it for the long game, Mount.

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

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

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

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

—Nervous about the game? —she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His number looked very good on you, he thought.

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

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

Quickly, Mason grabbed your wrist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. That was your brother.

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

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

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

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

Apparently, you've had an effect on him.

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

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

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

You took a minute to understand. —What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—You knew?

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

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

That sentence broke your brother's heart.

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

[nytb]

The Instagram Story

A summer transfer window filled with record fee signings and your name wasn't left out of the fun. The Euros shone a light on your every move, fans begged for a transfer- your transfer.

The rumours started to become much more. Y/N sightings in Manchester, cameos on WSL players Instagram stories, posts about the great time you were having abroad- The fire started to spread. Everyone was keeping their eyes peeled: Where were you going? Were you going to leave Spain? Was it all a dream? Were you out of reach for the WSL?

So many questions- all about to be answered with a simple Instagram story.

"Now add a bit of red😈" - An Instagram story by none other than Ona Batlle, one of the Manchester United stars. A picture showing Ona and Y/N out in a terrace in Manchester.

The fans went crazy, was it official? Was Y/N making her move to the WSL? Was she a Red Devil? - Questions that were soon answered. After days of avoiding questions, giving vague answers regarding transfer moves, Manchester United announced their new Star. Y/N Y/L/N.

Preseason was on the horizon. Players started to come in to their respective clubs, taking part in media days, having their pictures taken for the WSL. The Bright New Star Y/N's first pictures wearing the Manchester United badge. They surely were the most talked about topic for a week, at least before the first videos started to come out.

Ona Batlle, Lucia Garcia and Y/N Y/L/N's video was the first to hit the internet. Well, more like explode the internet. The in between banter, the looks, the chemistry. Right there and then, the Holy Spanish Trinity was born.

They hit preseason running the show, finding each other on the right side of the field, connecting beautiful plays, displaying what it meant to have differential players in a team. The Holy Spanish Trinity started to become undisputed players in the first XI. Becoming fan favourites as the season started in the best way possible- a 5 game winning streak.

Next up - Chelsea at home. A match that could decide the league further down the line. The hype was real. The team chemistry was at an all time high, the sensations all pointed to a win, oh and what a win it was.

The game started off with strong tackles, setting the pace for the rest of the match. Players like Cuthbert and James fighting for every ball, leaving no play to chance. 1-0 down at half time and the Red Devis looked defeated. Coming out of the dressing room, the shine in their eyes pointed to revenge.

Whatever pep talk was had during half time worked wonders. 5 minutes in and a play on the right side lead to a goal. 1-1, Lucia Garcia scoring a beautiful chip. Not long after and a class act from Toone made it 2-1. The team started to defend as an unit, isolating Chelsea's attacks and most importantly- foreshadowing all tactical changes Emma Hayes communicated to her team.

A one sided game. The result might not have shown it, but the 65% Red Devil's possession and the little to no Chelsea attacking chances demonstrated how good the United girls played after going 1-0 down at half time.

The Red Devils celebrated the game with chants, dances and hugs. Hugs all around.

Videos started circulating the internet. Videos of the celebrations. One of which showed how Ona jumped onto her fellow national compatriot Y/N's back, holding on for dear life. Y/N carried the defender to the dressing room, congratulating their teammates on the performance along the way. That's when the rumours started.

Weeks of teasing Ona followed, pretty much the whole team, even some phisios got in on the fun. Keeping it all on the down low, not letting the jokes ever be heard by you. One week, Lucia Garcia, who had been staying at your apartment, came into training with you. As both of you entered the dressing room, a silence struck, but being the silly goofy distracted self, you didn't even notice it. Rambling to Lucia about some random thing, loudly and laughing like the true outgoing spaniard that you were.

Ona shot you pleading eyes, almost as if she was begging to be saved by you. "Why are you puppy eyeing me?" you ask, curious as to what the dressing room had done to your friend.

Russo, who had been teasing Ona right before you got there put her arm over your shoulders, hugging you as she replied for the defender "We were asking where you go to after training" she joked, winking at the defender "You never join us" she added, pouting. "Want to come out with us for lunch?" Ona asked, changing the topic as quickly as possible.

Lucia joined the conversation "She can't" she smirked, nudging you with her hip "So, are you going to tell them?" she asked, clearly eager for you to share the news.

"It was meant to stay between us" you stated in Spanish, a language Ona knew all too well. "Keeping secrets now are we" Toone joined, she had recently picked up some Spanish, hanging out with Ona will do that to you.

"I might be going on a date after this" you reply "What do you think about the outfit Tooney?" giving the girls a spin, allowing them to appreciate your impeccable fashion choices. "I was wondering why you were all dolled up for training" Alessia stated, "You look amazing, like always" she continued hugging you as she sent Ona sympathetic eyes.

"So, who's the lucky guy?" Le Tissier asked, triggering the laughter of the locker room.

"You missed the memo" Alessia joked, it was a known fact that you were in fact, a raging homosexual. "Girlie, I'm not about to waste all this" you pointed at yourself, from head to toe "on a man" you finished.

"Aren't we full of ourselves" Lucia joked, "but in all fairness, the girl is hot" the attacker showed the group the Instagram account of your date.

Toone, who had caught Ona's sad expression sat next to her, whispering so nobody else could hear them "That girl has nothing on you" she hugged the defender, consoling her "Let's go to training shall we"

Part 2

[helen-with-an-a]

The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup pt. 3

Hi. So here is part 3 (again, this will have another part because I am determined to get it happy at the end; it's just taking me a while to get there ahahah). Big thanks to @lyak12 for helping me work out my issues with the fic <3

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Ona Batlle x Reader

Flashbacks are in italics

TW: Injury, R ain't ok mentally, suggestiveness

Description: R comes home from Australia to start her recovery

Word Count: 3.6k

You had required three surgeries in total to fix everything – an emergency one to save your leg, one to place the screws and realign everything and one to reattach the ligaments in your knee. The damage the tackle had done was extensive; your shin was splintered into 3, some coming through the skin, and the force of the collision ruptured your ACL and meniscus ligament, too. No one dared show you the video, and you weren’t bothered to look it up. Even though you couldn’t remember what happened, you’d have the scars for life. You had asked what the timeline was for when you could get back on the pitch. One doctor had said it was an if not a when. You didn’t like that doctor. It would be a when – football was your lifeline, your escape when times were tough. You didn’t know how you would cope with it. Your physios at Barca had said that when … if … you were back on the pitch, your playing style would have to change. They had told you in broken English that you probably would never play the same and would have to rely on speed and technical ability rather than strength in matches. But that was ok; as long as you were on the pitch, you didn’t care how you had to play, just so long as you could.

You flew back to Barcelona a month after the World Cup. You wanted to be back earlier, but you hadn’t been cleared to fly and definitely hadn’t been cleared to fly halfway across the world. The medical staff in Australia were lovely – sneaking you extra desserts, cheering every milestone, no matter how small, braiding your hair, and helping apply your moisturiser when you were too tired to do it yourself. Your family had only seen you that first day. You didn’t mind – you didn’t particularly like when they were around anyway. It was always too loud with them. The bad kind of loud. The Lionesses were the good kind of loud. They had piled into your room, staying as long as possible. Georgia had left you with her Tamagotchi, making you promise her you’d try to keep it alive. Being suitably distracted by the mountain of sugary sweets piled on your bed by Hempo, much to the horror of Leah and Sarina, you missed the way Lucy eyed you wearily.

You considered Lucy a big sister, especially since moving to Barcelona. She had been concerned about you since you arrived. The happy, bubbly young woman she had come to care for deeply had retreated back into the quiet shell you had been when you first joined the senior squad. At first, she thought you were just nervous – she knew how scary it could be to be in a new city without many friends. But after a while, she knew it was something more sinister. She barely saw you outside of football; you were always making excuses to avoid team bonding or insisting you needed to stay late to work on things. Things you already excelled at. She grasped just how badly something was wrong with the first international camp of the new year. She thought you would return back to your old ways, finally being around your old friends and not having to navigate another language. But that wasn’t the case; if anything, you grew even quieter – especially around Alessia and Ella. That concerned her the most – you were closer than family to those two. They could always be relied on to drag a smile out of you. So, she kept an eye on you. Quietly observing your behaviour.

Whilst you hated that you weren’t back in Barcelona as quickly as you wanted to be, you were glad you didn’t have to see Ona again so quickly. That night was the last time you had seen her. You hadn’t said anything as she took a seat across from you. She hadn’t said anything as you started to drift into an uncomfortable slumber. Only when she was sure you were in a deep sleep did she break her silence.

“Mai podré dir-te com ho sento,” she whispered. “Sempre t'estimaré. Espero que algun dia em permetis estimar-te de la manera que et mereixes.”

“Oni, I can’t speak Catalan, remember? You’re going to have to repeat that in English.” You laughed as she chattered away. It was an off-day and oddly warm in Manchester. You lay with your head in her lap, top tucked up into your bra, exposing as much skin as possible in an effort to soak up the summer sun.

“Sorry, amor. I’m just happy it’s finally warm here. It reminds me of home a little bit.” She carded her fingers through your hair as you snuggled your face into her stomach.

“Tell me about it?” You asked gently. You loved hearing the stories of her home, her childhood, her life back in Spain.

“There’s this little cafetería back home. It sells the best Crema Catalana ever. I don’t know what they do, but, mmmm ... es tan delicioso. It’s even better than my Mamí’s. It’s so pretty too. It’s got this really cool tiled pattern flooring and vines on the wall at the front. During the summer, they open all the doors and play music and …” You could listen to Ona talk all day; the excitement when she mentions her home is unparalleled. You could feel yourself drifting into sleep – the warm weather, her gentle fingers scratching at your scalp, her intoxicating smell that wrapped around you like a soft hug.

“Mmmm,” you hummed happily. "It sounds fantastic. I wish I could visit,” you commented.

“You shall. I’ll take you. You’ll come to see my home, we’ll do all the touristy things in Barcelona, and then I’ll show you all the local spots in Vilassar de Mar, prometo,” She vowed.

“Good. I …” you cut yourself off with a yawn, “I don’t want to see Barcelona without you.” Your eyes fluttered gently.

“You won’t. I won’t let you. You’re stuck with me for life, amor.” You smiled softly at her words. You liked the sound of being with Ona for life. “Ve a dormir, amor. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You nodded and allowed yourself to slip into a gentle dream.

Arriving home, it was easier to avoid Ona than you thought. You were still on strict instructions to rest. Alexia had tried to force you to stay with her. When that failed, Lucy had tried. You liked your space. You liked your private time. You felt like you could never fully relax around people … except for around Ona - that voice in your head reminded you. No! You couldn’t allow that voice to win. You had a recovery to think of now. You had compromised a little bit, though. You lived in the same building as Ingrid and Mapi, so you gave them permission to get a spare key cut. This allowed you to have people constantly checking on you without feeling like a burden on them. Alexia wanted a key for herself, but she lived on the other side of town, and you didn’t like dragging her so far from her usual daily routine.

To be honest, you were unsure if you wanted to see Ona. Alessia had quietly told you that you wouldn’t calm down on the pitch until Ona held you. In the extra month you were in Australia, you had come to terms with the fact you were still in love with her. You had tried to deny it when you initially came to Spain. But now it was just a fact you had to live with. That night in the hospital was so incredibly awkward … strange … nice. She had stood in a training top you were fairly sure was yours once upon a time, head hung low as she picked at her nails. You wanted to bat her hands away, to tell her to stop, but she had sat too far and out of your reach.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, something’s wrong with Ona”, Hayley whispered to you in the bathroom. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but she won’t stop picking at her nails; she’s really quiet. Something’s not right. I think something may have happened during the break.” You sighed deeply. You also think something may have occurred whilst she was in Spain. You had picked her up from Manchester Airport, and you could tell instantly something wasn’t right. 3 of her fingers were wrapped in plasters, and the others looked just as sore. When you extended your arms out to hug her, she looked a little apprehensive but stepped into your embrace anyway. No matter how much you wanted to keep her in your arms, you stepped away after a few short seconds. You had never seen her so tired, so different, so … you weren’t quite sure what had happened. You kissed her forehead gently as you ushered her to the car.

It didn’t take long for you to find Ona – she was sitting in your cubby after all. Despite your concern, your heart couldn’t help but flutter as you recognised your number on the hoodie she was wearing.

“Me gustas en mi ropa,” You said as you crouched in front of her, hands resting gently on her knee. She didn’t smirk like she usually would. She didn’t react when you started tracing gentle shapes on her bare legs. She just kept picking at her nails. “Oni… lo que le pasó?” You asked in the gentlest tone imaginable. She just shook her head, wiping a stray tear away. “No … hey, hey, hey, no. Oni. Mi ni��a hermosa. Don’t cry.” You surged forward. “Please don’t cry.” You didn’t know how to comfort her. You had seen her angry, you had seen her scared, you had seen her frustrated. But you had never seen her cry before.

You had eventually coaxed her into going home. You had waited until everyone had left—Hayley hurrying people along to let you deal with the situation. The force with which she gripped your hand left a sour taste in your mouth. You had kept your hand in hers the whole journey home and into your flat. You led her to the sofa as you lay down, pulling her on top of you.

“Now …” You started, “I’m not going to make you talk to me. But I can tell something happened when you were in Spain. I want you to tell me, but I’m not going to force you. Whatever you want to share that’s entirely up to you. But please, Oni … I’m not going to judge you, or laugh at you, or hurt you for telling me anything. Un problema compartido es un problema dividido, right?” You whispered as your fingers slipped under her jumper.

It took a while, but eventually, she told you. You held her as she cried over the conditions in the Spanish camp. You held her as she recounted the story of her being forced from her bed at 5 in the morning for a run and not being allowed to stop until she threw up or passed out. You held her as she ranted about how mean the coaching staff were to Pina, and when she had stepped in to intervene, she had it twice as bad. You held her as she eventually slipped into a fitful reprieve from the nightmare she had just returned from.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake Ona’s voice from your head telling you, you weren’t could enough for Barca. If she thought that before your injury, what would she think about you now? You were looking at a year off the pitch, at least, let alone having to train in a new style and learn a new way of playing that could have you set back even further. It echoed in your mind before behind, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, when you were with the team as they tried to help you feel better.

Most days looked similar for you in the first month you returned. You were still in a cast and brace, so you couldn’t do much. The doctors - and Alexia - had told you how important it was to establish and stick to a routine. So, you did. You woke up at 8.30 every morning. There was training – you obviously couldn’t go, but since all your friends had that schedule to stick to, so did you. You would go into the bathroom and have a really awkward shower; more often than not, you would flood the bathroom, then get ready for the day. Lucy told you that you needed to change out of your pyjamas every day, so you slipped on loose shorts and a shirt – your ‘day pyjamas’ you had christened. You had breakfast with Ingrid and Mapi before they left for training, and then you sat on the couch. All day. With your mind slowly descending into chaos over everything that had happened. And then you would hear the conversations from outside that told you some of the girls were coming round to see you, and you plastered a smile on your face as you asked them about their day, and they would ask you about yours. On non-training days, you granted yourself a lie-in. Keira and Lucy would come by with pastries from the bakery down the round and fresh fruit for you to snack on. You would sometimes have a Lioness Facetime if everyone’s schedules allowed.

You had yet to go to a match or the training facility, watch a game on TV, or even just play Fifa. But that would come with time; you would have to go eventually because that was where the physios and trainers were. People thought you were reluctant to go because of what had happened. Which you were … a little bit. The main reason that made you nervous about going was Ona. A picture of her on your timeline had sent you into a spiral for a good few hours. You were scared of what seeing her in person would do.

You had seen the picture of her in the Champions League promotion. And she looked so good. You had stared for far too long at her beautiful smile that still took your breath away, her chiselled jawline that you used to pepper kisses across when you cuddled up against her, her veiny arms that had made you feel so safe and loved, her messy bun that you had jokingly begged her to teach you how to do, her freckled cheeks that would sport a soft pink hue every time you complimented her, the dimples you would poke at when she was trying to be angry at you but failing miserably.

“Great game today girls, you played fantastically. And well done to Ona.” You were standing next to her in the post-match huddle, she shyly groaned as her achievements were recognised in front of everyone.

“Mi Oni’s got her name on the score sheet,” You sang out as you walked back down the tunnel, arms wrapping around her waist. “We need to celebrate.” A round of cheers from everyone echoed the sentiment. Just as you were about to separate to go shower, you felt Ona squeeze you gently. “Hm?” You asked, scanning her features for discomfort.

“Could we do something … just us tonight?” As much as she loved the girls, she wanted a night with you. Alone. She looked so adorable as she quietly mumbled her desires to you.

“Absolutely we can,” your smile reassured her. You pressed your hands against her cheeks quickly before turning to head to the showers.

You didn’t even bother with an excuse when you messaged Lessi and Tooney.

Y/N: Sorry not coming tonight - other plans x

Tooney: Rude

Tooney: Do these other plans involve a Spanish defender???

Y/N: Maybe x

Y/N: She wanted to do something just us

Lessi: I want details! x

Y/N: Nothing’s going to happen

Y/N: U know we r just friends

Tooney: And I’m just friends with Joe :p

Y/N: Its just a MOVIE NIGHT x

Lessi: If u say so x

Tooney: stay safe x

Y/N: ffs and I do say so.

Y/N: text me when ur both home pls x

Lessi: Will do x

Your other plans involved very little deviation from your regular nights. She had cooked for you like always, serving up a delicious paella that had you begging her for cooking lessons. Over dinner, you relived her goal from your perspective and forced her to tell you what she was thinking when she sent it into the back of the net.

“Now that you’ve started scoring, you won’t stop. I’m telling you.” She had laughed at your promise. “I’m being serious here. We need to come up with a celebration for you.” She just hummed and kissed the top of your head as she gathered the plates and took them to the sink.

Later, you were lying on the sofa watching a Spanish movie she insisted on, telling you how it was a part of her childhood and she needed to share it with you. You weren’t paying any attention. You were far too distracted by her fingers running up your spine. It was driving you mad in the best way possible. Your ear was pressed against her chest, her heartbeat comforting and peaceful as you burrowed yourself deeper into her.

“Estás bien?” Ona asked, your movements catching her attention.

“Yeah.” You responded. “I’m really proud of you, you know that, right?” You shifted again, this time drawing yourself up to cage her in with your arms. The blush reappeared on her cheeks as you stared intently at her. God, she was so beautiful. “And I’m really happy you came to Manchester. You make everything better.” You told her honestly. She was getting overwhelmed. You could see that as she avoided your gaze. You gently poked the place where a dimple appeared when she smiled. “Oni …” you waited until she looked back at you. “Puedo besarte?” You said as you stared at her lips.

“Sí.” This wasn’t your first kiss, drunk or sober. But this time felt different. You couldn’t explain it. Her soft lips parted as you licked the seam of her mouth.

You continued to make out lazily on the sofa before Ona broke away for some much-needed air. You didn’t care, though. Your lips just moved to her neck – you were careful not to leave any marks, no matter how much you wanted to decorate the pale skin with dark splotches that claimed her as yours. She whimpered and whined underneath you until she was begging for more.

“Por favour. Do something. Anything. Necesito más,” she implored, hands tangling in your hair as you pulled away.

“Relajarse. Let me take care of you.” You sighed into her skin.

You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Her wicked words bounced around in your head. God, she had really ruined you. That was the first night you allowed yourself to truly feel everything, every emotion you had suppressed and bottled up for the last 9 months. It was painful. Raw. Terrifying.

At first, you were angry — so, so angry. Pure, unadulterated rage bubbled up and over the top of your carefully constructed walls. You threw a vase. It shattered into pieces like your heart had done all those months ago. It was satisfying, but you wanted more. You needed more. You ripped apart a cushion someone gave you as a housewarming present. You screamed and raged and shouted your emotions.

Then you cried. It started as a few lone drops that quickly became a torrent of unstoppable, hot tears. The sobbing hurt. It was painful and gut-wrenching. You had never cried like this before, and that scared you. These were the tears of someone heartbroken, and desperate. You cried so hard you thought you were about to throw up.

When you came to your senses, you were standing in the middle of the living room – how you got there was beyond you – feathers lightly floating around you, the wall had a slight dent, and someone was knocking frantically on your door. You didn’t move. If it was Ingrid or Mapi, they had a key. If it was Lucy or Alexia, they knew where to find the spare set. If it was anyone else, you didn’t want to see them.

Strong yet gentle arms pulled you to a warm body. The scent that engulfed you was soft and sweet. Alexia.

“Está bien, cariño. Let’s get you to bed, sí?” She was too gentle. Alexia didn’t do this kind of comfort. She offered practical solutions, honesty, and tough love.

“I… I’m scared,” You admitted as she helped you twist into bed.

“I know recovery can be scary, pequeña, but you will do it. It will be hard. But you can do it. Te lo prometo, puedes hacerlo. Everyone is going to help you. You can lean on us. We're here for you, bebita.” She was misunderstanding what you were referencing. You weren’t scared of recovery. You were physically healing well. A physio had been sent to your house from Barcelona to assess you at home to see whether you could start your rehabilitation at the club. She had asked you questions, and you had given the right answers. Your scars were healing well, and you had the expected range of motion for your injuries. Physically, you were right on track.

You were scared of your own mind. In the month you had been home alone, you had thought hard about anything. Ona had really broken you, yet you couldn’t let her go. What did that say about you? You had always thought you were stronger than that. You used to never understand what it was like when people would go back to an ex-partner who had broken their heart. Ona was never even officially yours, and she had managed to do so much damage.

This is becoming a lot more intense than I had planned ahahah. Hopefully, the next part will be out soon.

[alotofpockets]

Out of reach | Mary Earps

Pairing: Mary Earps x Reader

Request: Mary x taller R where they have to keep helping her reach for things

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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You were browsing your local supermarket for dinner inspiration after a long work day. The day had been filled with important meetings, and you were still dressed for the part. You ended up in the pasta aisle where you saw a woman trying to reach for a jar that was slightly pushed back on the top shelf. Without a second thought you walked towards here, “Let me get that for you.” You say and reach for it. 

The moment you hand the woman the can, is the first time you see her face. You were mesmerised by her beauty. “Thank you, it was just out of my reach.” The woman said with a beaming smile. Her words snapped you out of staring, “Of course, no problem.” The woman in front of you looks between the two of you and starts laughing. “Look at us, full suit versus full tracksuit.” You hadn’t realised the stark contrast in your outfits until she pointed it out but laughed with her once she explained. “Your outfit seems a lot more comfortable, and I definitely switch to something similar when I get home once I figure out what to eat tonight.”

You weren’t usually one to talk to strangers in a supermarket but something about the woman in front of you made it feel like you weren’t strangers at all. She was easy to talk to, and you felt yourself not wanting the conversation to end. “Well, I was going to make some spaghetti bolognese, would you like to join me?” You were intrigued by her offer but also didn’t want to impose. She seemed to notice your hesitation in answering, “Please, let me thank you for helping me.” She managed to get you to set your doubts aside. “Okay, let’s do it then. I’m y/n by the way.” The woman holds out her hand for you to shake it. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Mary.” 

“Great, I just need to get something for dessert.” She hadn’t let go of your hand, so she used it to guide you towards the dessert section. “Since I chose dinner, you can choose dessert.” You head to the front of the store once you’ve picked out desserts, and after Mary made sure you didn’t need to get anything else at the store. With a bag full of groceries, you walk out of the store together. “I live like two blocks away from here, my friend dropped me off at the store, so I was planning on walking home. Are you okay with walking there?” You nod over to your car a few parking spots over, “Or we can take my car?” Mary smiles, “Perfect.” 

You get into your car and look down at your outfit, “Do you mind if we stop by my house? I would love to get out of this suit.” Mary buckles up, “Or I can lend you some trackies and we have a cosy date.” Her eyes widened, “Wait, sorry, I never clarified it as such.” You shake your head and laugh, “A cosy date sounds lovely.”

After setting down the groceries in Mary’s kitchen, she leads you upstairs to get you a comfy outfit. She opens her closet, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen that many sports clothes together outside of a store. You notice the Manchester United, and the England crest on many of them. “You’re a big football fan then?” You let your eyes go over the many jerseys. 

Mary smiled at your comment, it was a nice feeling that the stranger at the grocery store liked her for her and not because she was a fan. “You can say that.” She says with a laugh. You turn to face her with a furrowed brow. “They’re my jerseys. Mine as in I wear them when I play for United and for England.” She pulls out one of the jerseys showing the back. “Earps, that’s me.” She says proudly. “Wow, I had no idea. That’s really cool. So you get to wear comfy stuff for work every day then, maybe I should consider a career switch.” You both laugh.

Your first date with Mary was a big success, she was easy to talk to, and while your careers differed immensely, you had a lot in common with her. She walked you back to your car, where you shared your first kiss. Mary was standing on her tippy toes, with her arms around your shoulders. The kiss was short and sweet, with a promise to more since you had already planned your second date.

After a few dates, Mary had asked you to be her girlfriend, which you had happily said yes too. 

One month into your relationship you found yourself amongst the crowd at Leigh Sports Village, where you watched Mary play for the first time. She had explained the basic rules of football to you while watching a match on the tv together one night. Now that she wasn’t by your side to explain what was happening, it was harder for you to follow but that was okay. Whenever you didn’t understand what was going on, your eyes went to her in the goal. 

Mary met you in the family and friends lounge when she was done, she introduced you to a couple of her teammates before taking you back to your place. Since your first date was an at home dinner that you prepared together, you wanted to create the tradition to do the same for your anniversaries. So, starting off with your first month anniversary today, you went to the store you had met each other in to pick out the ingredients. 

Ever since you started dating, you would get everything from the top shelves for Mary, but now you turn around from the pans on the stove to find Mary climbing on top of the counter. “Baby, what are you doing?” You laugh. “I’m just getting some wine glasses.” She said innocently. You take the glasses from her, before you help her down from the counter, and spin her around a couple of times. “You know I couldn’t easily grab those, right?” She pecks your lips. “Yeah, just a habit I still need to break.” 

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1maryearps: Creating traditions.

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fan1: Omg mearps is dating someone??

ellatoone: Cuties

fan2: they are so cute!

fan3: who is she with?

alessiarusso: Finally someone else that can cook a proper meal

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[ladymarycrawley]

Forbidden but delightful - Mason Mount

Request: I actually had a imagine request for Mason Mount…where the reader works for him and they’ve always been fond of one another and one day she comes in wearing a guys jumper, it doesn’t fit her properly and it smells like a man. So Mason feels himself becoming jealous, when in reality it’s just her brothers jumper that she ended up wearing because she fell asleep at his babysitting his kids + @anon that asked me sth based on Mase's Nike shooting that got out out in august/september

Warning: none

Tag list: @prideofpd , @johnstonesfc , @chelsealover , @masonxomount , @masterclassbaby

(gif credits to @bracedes)

A thing Mason promised himself he would have never done in his life was falling in love with someone that worked for him or that simply happened to cross his path for business reasons: he knew it would have been unprofessional but, most of all, he feared he would have ended up as the wronged party.

Another thing he knew deep down his heart was that promises are sometimes meant to be broken and the aforementioned one was one of those.

Since Y/N took on the role of his personal stylist she became the ever so present object of his thoughts as she charmed him since day one, when that shy smile of hers made him blush and ask for more, more moments of him in her company. 

He knew she had something special but didn't know what that was, he only knew it was something that made him feel relaxed, at peace with the world around him. It was as if she held an aura of calmness that was never enough for him as his engaged lifestyle required a lot of it.

Needless to say they got along instantly and, as he was one of the most appreciated footballers on the planet, she soon became one of the most envied women for spending so much time with him. That time they would spend together wasn’t related to fashion matters only but quickly spread to their spare time too: after their work for a magazine, Mason invited her over to his house to celebrate their first job together.

In the meanwhile, on her part, a small sentence he said to her like “I’d like you to always feel at ease when you’re around me, we don’t have to be friends if you don’t want to but I’d like you to be totally yourself” was what made her like him as soon as his brother Lewis introduced him to her. What he expressed was quite an easy concept not to be taken for granted as a lot of famous people would likely treat their employees as servants, making their business life miserable but that wasn't his case.

Everyone loved Mason for being a down to earth guy, a family guy that always had the most beautiful smile painted across his lips and that smile was the second thing that made her weak to her knees: it could light up a dark room faster than artificial light and warm her heart at the same speed.

The second time it was her turn so she asked him to join her in going to a club in the centre of Manchester. It was just the prelude of their game of looks, subtle and unintended touches, sweet words. All of that happened without them even realising it as it felt so spontaneous, so right.

The crucial moment in their professional as well as personal career was when the Red Devils player was asked to feature in the next Nike Underwear campaign as one of their latest posterboys.

“That’s huge, I can't believe it” She kept on saying in disbelief as he was in a delighted mood too. That was probably the biggest job she got until then and they were both buzzing.

“I’m sure all the girlies will love me even more after this shooting” You joked, alluding to the shirtless pictures of Mason that would soon reach every corner of planet Earth through the worldwide coverage they would have had.

He blushed a little and chuckled. “Yep and they’ll probably hate you a little too cause you’re stealing their place”

“Me?? I’m just doing what I’ve been hired for and just got you the biggest shooting to date”

“Yeah but don’t flatter yourself sweetheart”

Sweetheart? Y/N would have never thought of hearing that nickname coming from his mouth and above all, addressed to her. The shade of bright pink that painted her cheeks after that exchange of words, matched her geranium skirt and that combination didn’t go unnoticed to her client who smirked, quite pleased with what his sentence ignited in her.

They both gave each other knowing looks, a look that made Mason’s heart beat faster and Y/N’s legs shake.

The stylist cleared her throat with a fit of coughing before looking at the time on her phone screen, deciding it was time for her to go home before things would have gone out of your hands.

“Are you already going home?”

“Yes, I have erm - a friend over for dinner, yeah” She nodded as if she was trying to convince herself to buy her own lie. 

“Do I know her? Oh wait, is it your best friend?” The Englishman didn’t really care about her guest, he only wanted to spend a couple more minutes with her and make sure she wasn’t seeing any guy he would have to compete with.

“No no, you don’t know her…” She said dismissively, putting her bag on her shoulder.

“Is this mysterious friend a guy you haven’t told me about?” He said, crossing his hands and trying to sound as chilled as possible.

“Please! Not interested in any guy right now” Yeah, in any guy that wasn’t called Mason Mount. “Really have to go now, my house is a mess and she will be there in less than an hour… see you tomorrow, Mount, don’t be late cause we’ll check your Nike’s outfits out!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t…have fun tonight”

“Yep…thanks”

They almost whispered their goodbyes with a hint of sadness and delusion in their voices, as though neither of them wanted to leave each other nor wanted the other one to be left alone but the positions they were in forbid any kind of romantic relationship: it would have been too complicated and too risky.

The very risky thing though was the task she had to undertake the next day: some Nike people met Mason and Y/N at the sportswear brand’s headquarter in London and shared a quick chat to get to know each other better, before skipping to the part where they would explain the shooting they had in mind for Mason to be featured in.

She gulped the moment they showed them the underwear models they could have chosen among.

Y/N’s mind soon got crowded with not safe for work images, as the sight of the Manchester United player’s toned body covered only in a pair of tight boxers, smiling at her began getting more and more vivid.

She shook her head when the Mason in her mind bit on his lower lip and seductively brought his hands to his sides to take off the tiny piece of clothing covering his lower body.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Oh yes, yes I’m so excited for this you have no idea” She laughed.

The people working with them smiled and left the room to do God’s knew what, leaving her and Mason alone.

He chuckled, lowering himself to her level so that his lips were close to her ear and whispered “Bet you’re more aroused than excited for this job”

You widen your eyes and hit him on the shoulder.

“I’m fully focused on my work, wasn’t thinking about anything vile”

“Even if you’re thinking about it that would be nothing wrong with it…I won’t tell anyone about your secret crush for me”

“Stop it! How old are you? 15??”

Mason giggled and swiftly pecked her cheek. “I love it when you get annoyed at me”

If someone would have seen that scene they would have thought they were a couple, a cute couple but sadly it wasn’t the truth and maybe would have never been…

Y/N arrived at work the day of the Nike shooting some minutes late and she entered the venue out of breath.

“Hi! Sorry everyone, stuck in traffic and it was horrible” She justified herself panting. What she just said was a white lie because she had nothing to do with London’s traffic: the night before her elder brother asked her to babysit his children because he had planned a night out with his wife and forgot to call someone to look after those two rascals that spent all the night shouting and running around the house.

She tried to say no when he asked her that favour, as she had a big day coming on but he said he really needed her help.

So she fell asleep on the sofa, after battling to put her nephews to bed, waking up just in time to go back home in a rush, begging her brother to give her a lift, and put on some knee-high boots that would have complimented that oversized grey jumper she borrowed from him to fight the coldness of the night.

Mason raised his eyebrows when he saw her, recognising immediately what she was wearing was a man’s jumper.

She styled it as if it was a dress and she looked so hot in his eyes but couldn’t stop thinking she must have spent the night with some man, that’s the reason why she was late.

The shooting went as planned: Mason looked genuinely flawless and sexy in that underwear, smiling at the camera and she kept on biting her lips as she couldn’t help thirsting over him as he looked nothing but hot ... that infatuation for him would have been the death of her.

She thanked that one person that asked for a little break because she needed a giant cup of coffee and some fresh air.

“You look good” Those were the first words she said to Mason that day.

“You too”

“No way, I look hideous as I’ve barely slept and arrived late on what’s the most important day in my career” She blurted annoyed at that, something unforgivable from her point of view.

The footballer started biting on his nails as he was clearly nervous and maybe needed some fresh air as well as she did.

“This…” The strong smell that tickled his nostrils interrupted him “...this smell, where does it come from?”

“Oh I think it’s my jumper” Y/N admitted shyly, referring to the garment that looked huge on her.

What Mason noticed made her blush, as if he caught her red-handed while doing something inappropriate and he glanced at her sideways, as if that inappropriate thing she did disappointed him somehow.

“It still smells like him...” She said under her breath but he still heard her and couldn’t help but widen his eyes in shock: in his head they’re perfect together, smiling and laughing every day, even subtly flirting so he thought she was single and he could go on courting her but now she’s wearing another man’s clothes? The poor man was confused to say the least.

“You told me you weren’t interested in any man…”

“And I’m not”

He raised his head and smiled quite relieved with the real explanation behind all of that.

“So why are you wearing another man’s jumper?”

“Oh god Mase, are you jealous?? This is my brother’s. He asked me to babysit his kids last night and took this because I was cold and in a rush so it was literally the first decent thing I’ve found”

“Oh well…I was ready to mock you for your walk of shame actually”

“No dear, you’re dying for me to tell you I haven't slept with anyone last night and now you’re joking only because you didn’t get angry” You giggled, offering him a cup of hot coffee.

“Can I take you out tonight?”

“Mason I- I don’t think that’d be a good idea, I mean we’re working together”

“I know that but I’ll do my best to keep things separated, I promise” He gave you puppy eyes, making you giggle.

“If you wanna try…”

“You don’t wanna try?”

Of course she wanted to, she'd been dying too…and she'd been dying to know what his lips tasted of too: she quickly glanced around to make sure all the people involved in the shooting were still out and unexpectedly kissed him, the coffee flavour on his lips mixing with her nude lipstick.

“Now go on posing, nothing happened!”

Nothing could swipe Mason’s smirk off his face as he brushed his thumb over his lips that now tasted like her.

“Yeah...nothing happened”

Mixing work and private life wasn’t something they were willing to do but sometimes breaking the rules has that forbidden charm that brings to one’s soul the highest of delights and that’s a risk worth taking.