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magicfootballstuff · 11 months

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Best Mate (georgia stanway x reader)

Summary: Georgia is your entire world, the love of your life. But you’re probably never going to be more than just her best mate.

(aka 12k words of angst and pining)

———

You’ve known Georgia since you were eleven.

Thirteen years in which you’ve been the closest of friends, through ups and downs. Thirteen years of playing for the same football teams, of carpooling to training and movie nights after matches and sharing rooms on away trips. Thirteen years, basically, in which you could have fallen in love with each other.

There’s a strange kind of irony, a punishment from the fates, that the first time you start to think of Georgia as anything more than your best mate is about three weeks before she moves to Germany.

You blame the Euros, naturally. That’s where you start to catch feelings. A long pre-Euro preparation camp, followed by weeks of heightened emotions as the Lionesses progress further and further into the tournament. It’s been a bonding experience for you all and you’re far closer to all the girls than you were a couple of months ago, but there’s been a shift in your relationship with Georgia specifically that you can’t quite explain.

It’s after the game against Spain that you first notice it. After coming back from behind, Georgia is the one who scores the winner to send you through to the semi finals and it might be the best goal you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing live. It’s not just the goal - you’ve seen Georgia score screamers from outside the box on countless other occasions in your thirteen years of friendship - but the significance too.

It’s after this game that you actually start to believe you can win the whole tournament, that nothing is going to stop you until you get your hands on the silverware. And that belief starts with Georgia’s goal.

“I fucking love you, G!” you tell her in the dressing room after the game, still riding the euphoric high of beating Spain in such dramatic fashion.

Georgia grins at you.

“I love you too.”

Her words make you feel warm inside but you put it down to being happy about the result.

It’s not until later, lying alone in your bed back at the team hotel, unable to sleep because you’re still so pumped up from one hundred and twenty minutes of difficult football, that you hear Georgia’s words over and over again in your head and realise what it means.

I love you too.

Shit. You’re falling in love with Georgia Stanway. Your best mate.

What a cliche.

But you’ve spent thirteen years of friendship not being in love with Georgia. It should be pretty easy to brush any hypothetical feelings aside. Right?

———

It’s not.

Actually, it turns out that acknowledging you have feelings for Georgia only makes them grow more.

You sit next to her on the coach on the way back from Bramall Lane after beating Sweden in the semi final. Around you, the whole team is jubilant, but all you can think about is how you can smell Georgia’s shampoo and feel the warmth of her thigh pressing into yours.

Shit, you’ve got it bad.

“We’re going to Wembley,” Georgia says. “Can you believe it?”

“Stuff of dreams, right?” you grin at her.

“And I get to do it with my best mate.”

The words ‘best mate’, while true, are like a knife to your heart and you’re reminded that you’ll only ever be Georgia’s best mate.

You try to shake yourself out of it. You’ve been Georgia’s friend for over a decade, you can keep being her friend, no problems at all. Because surely it’s better to be her friend than to risk messing things up and being nothing at all?

Except that she moves to Munich in two weeks. What if she loves it there, what if she prefers her new teammates to the old ones, what if she has such a good time there that she completely forgets about her old life in Manchester?

And you hate yourself for even thinking that. Georgia deserves to be happy. You know how excited she is to move abroad, how much she’s looking forward to the challenge of playing for a new team in a new league after spending so long at Manchester City. As her friend, you want the best for her, you want her to thrive in the new environment and be happy with her Bayern teammates as she settles into life in Munich.

You just hope that she doesn’t forget about you in the process.

“You’re quiet,” Georgia says, drawing you out of your own thoughts. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shrug, then give a half truth.

“Just trying to soak this moment in,” you tell her. “This feels special. No matter what happens in the final, I don’t want to forget the feeling of being part of this team.”

“I’m never gonna forget this,” Georgia says, sinking into your side and when she lets her head fall against your shoulder, you allow yourself just the briefest moment to imagine that she’s talking about this exact moment on the bus with you, not the summer of incredible football. “Would be pretty cool to win the damn thing though, right? One more trophy together before I leave.”

You never want this summer to end. Because as soon as it ends, Georgia leaves and you lose your best mate. You lose the person you’re in love with.

You have a feeling that this moment is going to be one that you come back to over and over again when you’re missing her, and you try even harder to commit every detail to memory.

———

Inevitably, the tournament does come to an end, but in the blur of playing an intense final at Wembley, winning said final, and the celebrations that continue long into the night, you almost forget that this is one of your last nights together with Georgia before she leaves for Germany.

Eventually, you and Georgia find your way back to each other, as you always seem to do. You have no idea what time it is, no idea how many drinks you’ve had, but it’s the early hours of the morning and most friends and family have either left or gone to bed, leaving just the players to continue their celebrations. You can still hear distant music and the occasional shout from downstairs, but you end up on the carpeted floor of a deserted hallway, side by side with Georgia. You’re sitting so close that the thighs of your outstretched legs are touching, and Georgia leans her head on your shoulder. You're holding hands too, though you don’t know who initiates that. Maybe it just happened because it felt right.

“I’m so proud of you, G,” you tell her, tracing your thumb across the back of her hand. “For everything - for today, for everything you did at City, for choosing to take a leap in your career.”

Georgia has hardly spoken about her impending transfer since it was announced, not while she’s been so focused on the tournament, and other than a couple of jokes this evening hoping that her new teammates will still welcome her after beating so many of them today, it’s been easy to pretend that she’s not about to move to another country. But now that the tournament is over, you have to face up to the reality sooner or later that your best friend is about to spread her wings and embark on a new journey that doesn’t involve you.

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me cry. And we’re supposed to be happy right now. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“I’m gonna miss you though. Bayern are lucky to have you.”

Your hand is still in Georgia’s, fingers linked together, though you don’t remember how it happened, whether it was you who took her hand or her who took yours. But her skin is so soft, especially on the back of her hand where you trace mindless patterns with your thumb.

“You’re still gonna be my favourite though, you know that right?” Georgia promises you.

“I am?” you ask, turning your head to look at her.

“Yeah, you’re my day one. Even when we live in different countries. I’m still gonna be talking to you every day.”

“I’m gonna be thinking about you every day,” you confess. “Every second, even.”

It’s only after the words slip from your lips that you realise you might have said too much, that you’re getting dangerously close to telling Georgia about the feelings that you promised yourself that you were going to keep secret.

“Yeah?” Georgia asks, her voice barely more audible than a whisper.

And just like the hand-holding, you have no idea who initiates what comes next, you’re just aware that your lips are on Georgia’s, or maybe hers are on yours, but who the fuck cares who leant in first when it feels this damn good.

Her lips are as soft as her hands, softer maybe, and she tastes like a combination of the free beer you’ve been drinking all night and something else, maybe optimism, if such a thing has a taste. But you’re very quickly unable to process much at all, senses overwhelmed, because Georgia is kissing you. Georgia, who you’ve been friends with since you were awkward teenagers with spotty faces and bruised knees, whose kisses are like a drug that you’re surely going to get addicted to because how could you not want to do this forever?

Just when you’re considering the logistics of pulling Georgia into your lap to continue this further, she pulls away from you, giggling as she wipes at her lips with captivating fingers.

“Shit, I’ve had way too much to drink,” Georgia says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

She leans her head back against the wall behind you both, her eyes closed, and you try to keep yourself together, though your heart feels like a fragile sheet of glass that could shatter under even the tiniest amount of pressure.

“It’s fine,” you tell her, even though your lips still burn from her kiss. Even though you’re probably never going to be the same again. “We’re both drunk.”

———

The next morning, Georgia is wearing the most ridiculous pair of sunglasses you’ve ever seen, so huge that they mask half her entire face, but maybe that’s the intention because when she sits down next to you on the coach that’s supposed to take you to Trafalgar Square, she lets out a groan and says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover in my life.”

“I think I’m still drunk,” you admit. Your head isn’t pounding, it’s just swimming, the alcohol not yet worn off out of your system. It’ll hit you at some point today, you’re sure of that, and it’ll be torture.

“Did I kiss you last night?” Georgia asks, pushing the sunglasses up onto the top of her head and frowning quizzically at you.

The way she asks, it’s almost like she doesn’t quite remember, and that stings a little. It’s pretty much the only thing you’ve thought about in the five drunken hours since it happened.

“Oh,” you say, trying to sound just as casual about it as Georgia does. “Yeah. I’d forgotten about that until you mentioned it.”

The lie is easy because there’s no way that you’re going to admit how affected you are by something as simple as the memory of her lips on yours.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Georgia grimaces. “Emotional day, and all that. We’re still cool, aren’t we?”

“Course we are,” you answer, and it’s mostly the truth - Georgia could commit a serious crime and you’d still think she was the best person on earth.

She’s got no reason to know the depth of your feelings for her, no reason to understand that kissing you might have done more damage than if you’d never got the chance to feel Georgia’s lips against yours at all.

———

You decide to confide in Keira.

“I think I’m in love with Georgia,” you confess, during pre-season, still ignoring the rumours that Keira might be moving abroad soon too.

“Our Georgia?” she asks for clarification, as if the idea is so ridiculous that she can’t quite believe what you’re telling her. “Georgia Stanway?”

You nod, and Keira presses on with her next question.

“Have you told her?” she asks.

“Why would I do that?” you scoff.

“Why wouldn’t you? What have you got to lose?”

“Only thirteen years of friendship,” you point out.

“Obviously it’s your decision, but worst case scenario she doesn’t feel the same and things carry on as normal.”

“Worst case scenario I lose one of the longest friendships I’ve got,” you interject to correct Keira.

“G’s not like that though,” Keira dismisses your worries with a wave of her hand. “She wouldn’t just cast you aside because of something like this. Anyway, she’s in a different country now. By the time you next see each other she’ll have forgotten all about it and things will be back to normal.”

“I’ll think about it.”

———

You do think about it. In fact, it’s pretty much all you think about.

One international break passes, then another, without you saying anything to Georgia about how you feel. You’re practically glued to her side for the whole of both camps, or maybe she’s glued to yours, because you somehow seem to end up alongside her even when you’re making an effort to not seem like you’re obsessed with her.

That plan clearly isn’t working, because on the penultimate night of the second international break, Keira brings it up when the two of you are alone.

“You’re not being subtle,” she tells you.

“Huh?”

“About G,” she explains. “If you think it’s not obvious you have feelings for her, you’re wrong.”

“Yeah but I’ve told you,” you point out, in a half-hearted attempt to justify the way you’ve probably been staring at Georgia with huge puppy dog eyes for the last week. “You know what you’re looking for.”

“Have you told Leah?” Keira asks, arching an eyebrow. “Because she asked me yesterday if you and Georgia were closer than usual so she’s noticed something too.”

“What did you say?” you demand, your eyes widening in panic.

“Don’t worry, I told her you used to be inseparable at City and that you probably just missed seeing each other every day. I think she bought it.”

You relax, or at least you try to, because if Keira says it’s obvious and even Leah has noticed your heart-eyes, then it can’t be long before Georgia herself realises, and then she’ll surely want to distance herself from you.

“Just talk to her,” Keira pleads with you. “You’re one of my best mates too and I hate seeing you like this. Even if nothing happens between you and Georgia, at least you’ll get closure by talking to her.”

You know that Keira is right. You’ve known Georgia for so long that you’d like to hope she won’t make things weird if you tell her how you feel and she doesn’t feel the same. You need an answer, so you can get over your feelings if nothing is ever going to happen.

And you fully intend to talk to her on the last night of camp. But you have a game tomorrow so you decide not to say anything for the risk of somehow upsetting the equilibrium of the team, and then before you know it Georgia is on a plane back to Munich while you return to Manchester and still nothing has been said.

Another time.

In the meantime, your heart continues to ache for something you’ll probably never get to have.

———

You’ll tell her when she comes home for Christmas, that’s what you decide. No England camp, no training or matches to use as an excuse for not telling her how you feel. Just two old friends catching up on what’s been going on in their lives - and so what if one of the most important thing that’s going on in yours is the depth of the feelings you currently have for your best friend?

You’re nervous for two full days before you see Georgia, your heart pounding each time you think of the enormity of the conversation you need to have with her. Telling her how you feel could change everything for better or for worse and even right up to the moment when you’re on your way to meet her, you’re still not sure if you have the courage to actually tell her.

You meet Georgia for lunch at Jill’s coffee shop, because Georgia’s only in Manchester for a few days before she jets off to Barcelona to see Keira and she wants to see as many people as she can while she’s back, but once you’ve both shared a bit of playful banter with Jill when she brings you your food and drinks, the two of you are left alone in a quiet corner of the shop.

“I’ve been dying to tell you something,” Georgia says, almost as soon as Jill leaves you alone. “I was gonna text you but I really wanted to tell you in person.”

She loves you too. That’s the first conclusion that your brain jumps to, because you can’t think of anything else she might have to tell you that’s important enough to be said face-to-face rather than over the phone.

She loves you too. She loves you t-

“I’m seeing someone,” Georgia announces.

And just like that, your heart shatters into a million tiny pieces.

She doesn’t love you.

“You are?” you ask, trying not to let the pain show on your face - this is supposed to be your best friend telling you that she’s found somebody, after all, and if you weren’t hopelessly in love with Georgia yourself, you’d surely be happy about this development in her life.

“Yeah, a guy back in Germany. His name’s Nico - he’s one of Syd’s mates so I met him through her. It’s still really new, like he’s not my boyfriend or anything, but we’ve been on a couple of dates and I think it’s going pretty well.”

“Cool,” you say, and then immediately kick yourself, because what kind of heartless idiot says cool when their best friend announces they’re dating someone, which is why you add, “I’m so happy for you.”

There’s a degree of truth to your words. Though on a selfish level you want Georgia to reciprocate your feelings and be happy with you, that’s not very likely to happen when you’re too much of a coward to tell her how you feel and obviously the most important thing is that Georgia is happy with whoever she chooses. You just hope that if it can’t be with you, that this Nico guy at least treats her well and gives her the happiness she deserves.

“Anyway, what’s going on with you?” Georgia asks, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Any big life updates?”

If there was ever a moment to tell Georgia that you’re in love with her, it would be now, when she’s inviting you to open up about what’s been going on in your life. But Georgia is clearly excited about this guy that she’s dating, or else she wouldn’t have waited until she saw you in person before making it the first thing she brought up, and what kind of friend would you be if you tried to ruin that for your own selfish reasons?

“Nothing much,” you answer with a shrug. “Nothing as exciting as your news. Anyway, tell me about Munich. Are the German lessons still kicking your arse?”

———

Keira calls you a few days later, when you know that Georgia is in Barcelona too, probably sharing the same news about her dating life with Keira that she told you the other day.

“You’ve seen G, then?” she asks, once you’ve caught up on your own lives.

“Yeah, we had lunch together a few days ago.”

“Did she tell you…?”

“About her new boyfriend?” you interject, completing Keira’s question. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keira asks.

You can practically hear the pity in her voice and it cuts you almost as much as Georgia’s news about her dating life.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you try to dismiss it quickly, before you end up getting upset, or angry, or both. “She’s happy, that’s all that matters. I missed my chance.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

Keira doesn’t need to elaborate on exactly what she’s asking about and for that you’re grateful.

“No,” you answer. “But it’s too late now anyway.”

“I don’t think it is,” Keira counters. “It doesn’t sound very serious yet with this German guy.”

“Keira, if there was any chance she felt the same she’d have told me.”

“You mean like you’ve told her how you feel?” Keira asks.

Though you can’t actually see Keira’s face, you can picture it, one eyebrow arched at you and mouth twitching at the corners as she calls you out.

“It’s different,” you try to argue. “She wouldn’t be dating someone else if she had feelings for me.”

“Well if you aren’t ever going to tell her, maybe you should think about dating someone else. You know, a couple of the Barca girls are single. If you don’t mind the distance, I could put in a good word for you.”

There’s only one person you’d be willing to put in the effort required for a successful long distance relationship, and it’s Georgia. Besides, while Keira’s right that you’ll have to think about dating someone else eventually, it doesn’t feel fair to mess with somebody else’s feelings before you’ve at least tried to put your feelings for Georgia behind you.

“I’m good, thanks Ke,” you promise Keira.

“Well if you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

———

You don’t change your mind. Not about being willing for Keira to set you up with one of her club teammates, at least. You do, however, reconsider your decision not to tell Georgia about how you feel.

What can the harm be? If anything, the German boyfriend is a safety net because you have less optimism that Georgia feels the same, fully prepared for her to let you down.

You phone Georgia when she’s back in Germany in January, entering the conversation with your heart already wrapped in bubble-wrap, in theory protected from being broken.

“Hey G, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy to talk to you,” Georgia replies.

Your heart soars, giving you the courage to say, “Cool, well there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

“I was gonna say something when you were back in England but then you … well, you had your news and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

You pause and take a deep breath, glad that you’re doing this over the phone so that Georgia can’t see the sheer physical anguish you’re going through to psych yourself up to tell her this.

“I love you.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then Georgia speaks.

“Aw, you big softie,” she teases you. “Love you too.”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Part of you wants to leave it there, the idea of having to correct Georgia’s misunderstanding somehow even worse than having to admit you love her in the first place, but you can hear Keira’s voice in your head telling you to grow a pair and tell Georgia how you really feel.

“No, I … I mean that I love you,” you clarify. “Not just as a friend. Like, I’m properly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Georgia says. There’s silence on the other end of the line as she processes what you’ve told her, before she eventually repeats, “Oh. Shit, okay.”

It’s not exactly the reaction you were hoping for and though you’d prepared yourself for probable rejection, you couldn’t actually have prepared for the punch in the gut that is the pure surprise from Georgia, as if the idea of there being anything more than friendship between the two of you is so far-removed that she’s never once even considered the possibility.

“Forget I said anything,” you say quickly, eager to put this torturous ordeal behind you. “I’m just being stupid. It’s nothing I can’t get over.”

“No, wait!” Georgia blurts out. “It’s not stupid. It’s just … unexpected, I guess. You’ve surprised me, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“No, don’t apologise! I’m glad you told me. The thing is, I do love you too. Just as a friend.”

And despite all the preparation you did beforehand to try to protect yourself from the pain of inevitable rejection, hearing Georgia confirm aloud what you already knew still causes your heart to splinter into tiny pieces.

“Okay,” you say, trying to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. “That’s what I needed to hear. Now I can move on. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me-”

“Are you kidding?” Georgia interrupts you. “This doesn’t change anything. It takes courage to tell someone how you feel. I’m not gonna punish you for that. Anyway, you’ll always be super important to me. So unless you need a bit of space…?”

“No,” you’re quick to say. “I don’t need space.”

“Then you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” Georgia reassures you.

A single tear spills from your eye and you wipe it away quickly, even though Georgia can’t see you, because you’re worried that if you let it trickle the whole way down your cheek, it’ll be followed by a flood. The only thing that could make this more embarrassing that it already is would be if you burst into tears and Georgia heard you crying.

“Thanks, G.”

———

“I hate to admit it, but you were right,” you tell Keira, as you make your way out to the training pitch at St George’s Park on the first morning of the February international break, a few weeks on from telling Georgia how you feel - how you felt. “I just needed closure.”

“From Georgia?” Keira asks for clarification.

“Yeah. It turns out that finding out she doesn’t feel the same was a really quick way to shut down whatever stupid feelings I thought I had for her.”

“I think you’re being hard on yourself. It’s not stupid to catch feelings, especially for someone like G.”

“It was just emotion from the Euros,” you try to explain. “Then the distance. I was missing her. I got a bit carried away, that’s all. Anyway, she’s got her German guy now.”

“Not anymore,” Keira tells you. “That fizzled out a while ago.”

“It did?” you ask, your head jerking up in surprise when you hear the news. “She never told me that.”

“Yeah, well…” Keira trails off with a grimace, and you don’t need her to finish her sentence to understand what she’s saying.

“Right.”

You probably sacrificed your right to hear about Georgia’s personal life when you attempted to insert yourself into it by confessing your feelings for her. And if you’re completely honest, though you still talk to Georgia pretty often, there has been a slight shift in what you talk about, more superficial football chat and fewer deep conversations about all the other stuff going on in your lives.

Not for the first time since telling Georgia how you felt, you wonder if admitting your feelings was the wrong decision after all.

You hear footsteps behind you, the telltale sound of studs against concrete, and you turn to see Georgia, who inserts herself between you and Keira and drapes an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Hey guys, whatcha talking about?”

“The weather,” Keira is quick to save you the turmoil of having to come up with a lie yourself. “Thought it was cold in Barcelona at this time of year but I’d forgotten how much worse it is in England.”

“This?” Georgia scoffs, gesturing at the bleak grey sky above. “It’s tanning weather. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“You’re mad,” Keira says, shaking her head as she eyes up Georgia’s bare arms.

“Not mad,” Georgia counters with a grin. “Just happy to be back in England with my best mates.”

You don’t know how it makes you feel, hearing Georgia refer to you as a “best mate” again. She’s clearly making an effort to make sure you know that nothing has changed, that your sudden confession of feelings a few weeks ago hasn’t made Georgia think any differently of you than she thinks of Keira. But it still stings a little, all those hours spent wondering what if and picturing a hypothetical parallel universe in which Georgia returns your affection coming to nothing.

In the back of your mind, it registers that a public friendzoning shouldn’t hurt if you were as over your feelings for Georgia as you claimed to Keira that you were, but you push that thought down for now.

———

You don’t actually speak to Georgia alone until later, hanging out in one of the communal recreation areas during the free time you get between a gym session and dinner.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Georgia says. “It’s good to be back together again. And we haven’t seen each other in person since…”

Georgia trails off, leaving you to fill in the rest yourself.

Deciding that the best way to get past the slight awkwardness is just to acknowledge exactly what happened and laugh it off, you say, “Since I told you I liked you?”

Georgia’s eyes widen, slightly surprised that you’re so blasé about the situation, but she passes it off quickly and says, “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry if I put you in a weird position,” you apologise. “I just needed to say something, even if you didn’t feel the same way, for peace of mind, you know? Just feelings that had been brewing under the surface since the emotion of the Euros…”

“Since the Euros?” Georgia interjects, surprised once again.

“Yeah, but I don’t feel that way anymore,” you continue, fully aware of the fact that your cheeks are starting to heat up with embarrassment. “I got closure and I moved on. I hope things can go back to normal between us.”

Georgia hesitates for a second, like she’s still trying to process everything, before her face splits open into a huge grin.

“Yeah, of course. Nothing’s changed at all.”

You try to remember what normal friends who haven’t admitted feelings for each other talk about, and your mind immediately wanders to the guy she told you about when she was last home. The guy that, if Keira is to be believed, is no longer in the picture.

“How’s it going with that guy you’re dating?” you ask, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Georgia too.

“Nico? I’m not seeing him anymore. Like he was nice, but he was … I don’t know, he was just nice. There was no real spark, or nothing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

It’s partially true. If you can’t have Georgia yourself, you want her to be happy with somebody, though you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t done some social media stalking after she told you about him and he didn’t seem like anybody particularly remarkable. In a way, it’s a relief to hear that confirmed by Georgia herself.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Georgia says, dismissing your words with a casual wave of her hand. “It wasn’t serious anyway. And I wanted to tell you it was over but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want you to think I was messing with your feelings, or anything.”

“I get it,” you assure Georgia. “But you don’t have to worry about that. There aren’t any feelings to mess with anymore. That’s all behind me.”

Georgia narrows her eyes just slightly, like she’s not quite sure she believes you, but it passes so quickly that you might have imagined it.

“Cool,” Georgia says. “Anyway, did you see that worldie I scored in training earlier?”

And so the conversation moves on, back to normal with your best friend.

———

It does go back to how it was before, for which you’re relieved. Your biggest worry about admitting your feelings for Georgia was that it would ruin your friendship if she didn’t reciprocate, so you’re glad that you’re still just as close as you were before Christmas.

The problem is that now you’re back to talking to Georgia all the time, whether that’s messaging each other, ganging up together on Leah in the group chat, or FaceTiming to have a general catch up about life, you’re starting to realise that maybe you’re not over your feelings for her after all.

Can you really be blamed? Georgia is like a human ray of sunshine, lighting up your world with her silly jokes and beautiful smile, even from another country.

Surely everybody who meets Georgia falls a little bit in love with her?

Still, Georgia has made it pretty clear that your relationship is never going to move beyond friends, and you’re content to have her in your life in whatever way she’ll allow you, even if you’re still harbouring feelings for her.

You don’t tell Keira either. She asks you about Georgia a couple of times, just casual questions in passing which you respond to with reassurances that you’re getting along like old friends again, that her rejection was enough to extinguish your feelings. If there’s one thing that’s more humiliating than admitting to your best friend that you’re in love with her only to be turned down, it’s having to deal with the constant pity of another friend concerned about a possible broken heart. So you tell Keira that everything is fine and she seems to believe you.

It is fine. You are fine.

(And if you tell yourself that enough times, one day it’ll eventually become true.)

———

You have a plan.

And it’s not a plan that you’re making because you’re in love with Georgia. It’s a plan for your best mate who lives abroad and you miss dearly.

So when Georgia’s Bayern Munich team draws Arsenal in the quarter final of the Champions League, you go straight to the airport from training on the day of the match and catch the next flight to Munich to watch her play.

As you sit next to Georgia’s mum in the stadium, who makes a comment about how nice it is that her daughter’s best friend has flown all the way from Manchester just to support her in one game, you try telling yourself that you’re not just here for Georgia, that you know Leah and Lotte and several of the other Arsenal girls and you’ve come to watch them too, but as the game progresses you’re only really watching one person.

You’ve always known that Georgia is good - you’ve played alongside her for more than a decade at England age groups and then at City, watched her put in tackles that others wouldn’t dare to try and score goals from outside the box that would make anybody drool. But there’s a big difference between seeing Georgia play in training or when you’re on the same team as her, and actually watching her play. It’s an exciting match, a close match, with good performances from players on both sides, but you watch Georgia far more than any other players, your eyes tracking her even when she’s off the ball.

Bayern come away with the win, though only just, and you’re already trying to figure out whether you can make it down to London and back in a single night next week for the second leg that promises to be as exciting as the first. For the quality of football, you tell yourself, not just for another chance to see the best friend that you miss terribly.

You watch as Georgia greets the fans, smiling for pictures and signing shirts in the process, slowly making her way along the edge of the pitch until she reaches the area where you are. Her eyes search the crowd, no doubt looking for her mum, but she does a double take when she spots you and you carefully manoeuvre your way forward until you’re close enough to talk to her.

“What are you doing here?” Georgia asks, disbelief in her eyes.

“I’m here to see Leah,” you joke.

“Oh, I’ll just go and fetch her for you then, shall I?” Georgia grins at you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Have you never heard of a surprise?”

Georgia just rolls her eyes.

“How long are you here for?” she asks.

“Just tonight,” you answer. “I managed to convince Gareth to let me have tomorrow off training so I fly back first thing. I wish I could stay longer, but we’ve got a league game at the weekend.”

“Are you coming next week?” Georgia asks. “To the second leg? At the Emirates?”

“Do you want me to come?”

Georgia nods enthusiastically and says, “Yeah, course I do.” She pauses, then adds, “Only if you want to, though. I know it’s a long way to travel.”

“I’ll be there,” you promise. A wicked smile spreads across your face as you add, “To see Leah again, of course.”

Georgia rolls her eyes and says, “Dickhead.”

“Be nice, Georgia,” Georgia’s mum interjects. “She’s come all this way to see you.”

“Relax, mum, it’s just banter,” Georgia protests. “She knows I love her really.”

Love. That word again. Because Georgia does love you, of that you’re certain, but not in the way you want her to.

But as you look down at your best friend over the barrier that separates the players from the fans, her brown eyes alight and a smile on her face as she stares back at you, you realise that you’ll take Georgia’s love, however much of it there is and in whatever form it comes in, just to see her smile like this.

———

The weather is terrible. Unrelenting rain turns the four hour drive from Manchester to London into a five and a half hour drive with limited visibility on the motorways. The prospect of spending an evening in this torrential downpour for at least the two hours of the match, possibly longer if the game goes to extra time and penalties, is brightened only with the knowledge that you get to see your best friend again just a week after you last saw her.

Unfortunately the game doesn’t go Bayern’s way. Despite bringing in a one goal lead from the first leg, that hard work is quickly undone by two Arsenal goals in quick succession in the first half. You’re largely neutral to the outcome of this game, except that you aren’t because you want to see Georgia succeed, and she seems to double her efforts when Bayern go behind, putting even more into every challenge, every pass, determined not to lose.

You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re a neutral fan in this game because when the final whistle goes and the Arsenal fans start celebrating a hard-fought victory, your heart aches for Georgia and what could’ve been. But Georgia is a ray of sunshine, even in defeat, and still makes time for all the fans.

When you finally get to see her, inside the stadium after she’s showered and changed out of her wet kit, you’re actually more disappointed than she is about the outcome of the game.

“That’s football, isn’t it?” Georgia says with a shrug, after you’ve exchanged a long hug and offered her your commiserations. “Thanks for coming down though. It’s good to see you again. I missed you.”

Her words make your heart flutter and you play it off the only way you know how - with humour.

“It’s only been a week, G,” you remind her, rolling your eyes.

“A week is a long time when we used to see each other every day,” she points out.

“And whose fault is that?” you tease her.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Georgia rolls her eyes at you. “What are you doing now?”

It’s already late and the drive back to Manchester will be a long one so as much as you want to hang around and cherish every moment with Georgia, you know you need to get on the road soon.

“Gotta drive back home soon,” you tell her.

“To Manchester?” Georgia asks her eyes wide. “Nah, no way I’m letting you drive back through the night, especially not in this weather.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Georgia interrupts you. “I’ll text you the address of our hotel and you can stay with me. Drive back in the morning.”

You’re supposed to have training in the morning and you don’t want to imagine the trouble you’ll get yourself into if you don’t show up. But this is Georgia, and is a bit of a telling off from the coaches not worth spending a bit of extra time with her? Besides, can you not just set an early alarm and drive back home straight to the training ground in the morning? You’re not needed until ten anyway…

“Fine,” you nod, trying to pretend that the decision was harder than it actually was, pretending that you wouldn’t jump off a cliff for Georgia with very little hesitation if she asked you nicely enough.

———

Georgia meets you in the lobby of her hotel just over thirty minutes later, already dressed in pyjamas with a battered pair of sliders on her feet. She grins when she sees you and reaches straight for your hand, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

“Come on,” Georgia says, dragging you into the lift and pressing the button for the fifth floor. “Before anyone sees you.”

The lift doors rattle shut and it starts to rise. You turn to Georgia and ask, “Is this gonna get you in trouble?”

Georgia grins at you, then replies, “Only if we get caught.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, so loud that Georgia must be able to hear it echoing around the confined elevator too, and you’re not sure if it’s racing from the thrill of trying not to get caught or because Georgia’s hand is still in yours, her warm palm pressed against yours and your fingers tangled together.

Does Georgia even realise that she’s still holding your hand, or the effect that it’s having on you? Because it’s pretty much all you can think about as the lift ascends, your heart hammering away until the rush of blood in your ears is so strong that you might faint.

The lift can’t reach Georgia’s floor soon enough, but eventually it does arrive and the doors slide open with a soft ping, and then Georgia is dragging you along the carpeted hallway until she reaches the door to her room.

“Shhh,” Georgia hisses as she unlocks the door, ushering you inside as she finally lets go of your hand. “In you go.”

You enter Georgia’s hotel room and she closes the door behind the two of you. It’s a pretty standard room, a large double bed in the middle, a tv screen hanging from the wall beside a door that leads to the adjoining bathroom. Georgia’s suitcase is open on the floor, a few clothes strewn across the floor and the chair in the corner.

“Do you want a shower to warm up?” Georgia asks you. “I can lend you some spare clothes to sleep in.”

“Yeah, sounds nice,” you nod, shivering as you’re reminded that you’re still wearing your rain-soaked clothes from earlier.

Georgia kneels beside her suitcase and rummages around in it until she pulls out a spare pair of shorts with the Bayern logo on them and an oversized t-shirt, which she passes to you as she stands up again.

“Spare towel is on the rail in the bathroom,” she explains. “Pass us your wet clothes when you’ve taken them off and I’ll hang them up to dry.”

You smile your thanks and wander into the bathroom, turning on the hot water of the shower before stripping out of your wet clothes. Wrapping a towel around yourself for warmth and modesty, you open the door just wide enough to pass your clothes through to Georgia, who promises to hang them up by the radiator to dry overnight, before shutting yourself in the bathroom and stepping into the shower to warm up.

You spend longer than you probably need to in the shower but the warm water cascading over your head is more than welcome and it gives you time to think. To think about the fact that you’re here in Georgia’s hotel room, about to spend the night in her bed, wearing her spare clothes, when you should really be halfway up the motorway back to Manchester right now.

For some reason, your conscience warning you against this appears in the form of Keira’s voice.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Keira’s voice asks you in your head. “You’re still trying to get over her. Is this really going to help?”

“It’s fine,” you whisper aloud into the empty bathroom, your words masked by the sound of water hitting the tiles. “We’re just friends and that’s fine.”

It’s far from the first sleepover you’ve had with Georgia. You’ve known each other for well over a decade and spent your teenage years sleeping over at each other’s houses gossiping and giggling well into the night until a parent came in to hush you and urge you to get some sleep. You’ve shared rooms on countless camps before, during tournaments with England or on away trips with Manchester City. And since growing up and getting your own places, there have been movie nights that ended late where it was easier for one of you to stay over instead of driving back late.

In short, you’ve shared a bed with Georgia many times before.

You haven’t shared a bed since you realised you had feelings for her last summer, and definitely not since you admitted those feelings a couple of months ago.

But if Georgia’s comfortable with it, then you shouldn’t have a problem either.

You finally get out of the shower, when you’re completely warmed through and your fingertips are starting to shrivel from being under the water for so long. You dry off and change into the clothes borrowed from Georgia, then spend a bit of time drying your hair with a towel and brushing your teeth using the spare hotel-issued brush still in its plastic wrapper, before you eventually unlock the bathroom door and return to the bedroom.

Georgia is sitting upright in bed looking down at the screen of her phone, bathed in the yellow glow of the bedside lamp. She glances up when she hears the bathroom door open and smiles, whether at the sight of you in her clothes or some other reason, you’re not quite sure.

“You still like to sleep furthest from the door, right?” she asks, shuffling across to leave plenty of room for you in the bed beside her.

“You gonna protect me from intruders?” you tease her, as you clamber into the empty side of the bed.

Georgia is a few inches shorter than you, but you’ve seen the way she tackles on a football pitch and you have no doubt that she’d do better in a fight than you.

“Course I will,” Georgia grins back at you. “Ready for bed? Can I turn the light off?”

You nod and settle yourself down, adjusting the pillow and pulling the covers up over your shoulders as you roll onto your side. Georgia flicks off the light, then there’s some shuffling on her side of the bed, before you both fall still.

With your eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness, you can’t actually see Georgia more than just a shadow on her side of the bed, but you’re pretty sure she’s lying on her side facing you.

And that’s when it truly hits you. You’re sharing a bed with Georgia, close enough to touch her, close enough to be able to hear her breathing, but knowing that you can’t do anything about the ache in your chest.

You have no idea how you’re going to calm your mind or your heart enough to be able to fall asleep tonight.

You shiver - whether that’s because you’re still cold or for some other reason like Georgia’s proximity - but it’s enough that she notices.

“Shit, are you still cold?” Georgia whispers into the darkness.

“No, it’s fine,” you say, but your body betrays you again with another shiver.

“Come here,” Georgia says, though it’s her, not you, that closes the gap between you, shuffling her body closer until she can wrap her arms around you and pull your body against hers. Your feet intertwine at the bottom of the bed, hers warmer than yours, though she makes no complaint. “Nothing warms you up like a little cuddle.”

It’s not just a little cuddle though. This is a cuddle with your best friend who you’re more than a little bit in love with, who is kind enough to let you stay here despite the fact she could get in trouble, who has lent you her clothes and let you use her shower and now offers her arms to keep you warm. Your best friend who can surely now feel as well as hear the pounding of your heart as you nestle your body against hers beneath the covers.

Your eyes have started adjusting to the darkness and now you can see how close her face is to yours, your foreheads separated by barely an inch, and she’s staring right back at you, her warm breath hitting your face with each exhale.

“G…”

You breathe her name into the space between your lips, ready to tell her that you can’t do this, ready to admit that you still have feelings for her and that you need to leave, drive back to Manchester even though it’s the middle of the night and you’ve got no dry clothes, because otherwise you might do something that you regret.

But you don’t get the chance to say anything, because suddenly Georgia’s warm lips are on yours, soft and unmoving and so incredibly tentative, but also so right.

She lingers for a few seconds, then pulls back, her chest rising and falling more deeply than before with each breath, as she asks, “Sorry, I … was that okay?”

“You shouldn’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,” you say, just about ready to combust into tears, such is the intensity of the feelings overwhelming your entire body for the other girl.

You don’t know what to expect from Georgia, but it’s definitely not what she says next.

“And what if I do mean it?”

Her voice is quiet, her words cautious. You’re so used to Georgia being her usual loud and effervescent self that you barely recognise the tone of her voice, but she sounds almost vulnerable.

“I’m so far gone on you, G,” you admit. “I thought I could get over you but I can’t. I need you to know that you could shatter my heart and stamp on all the tiny pieces and I’d still want to be yours. And if there’s even the smallest part of you that doesn’t mean it, then we should forget that ever happened and…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because Georgia’s mouth is on yours again, hotter and more insistent this time. You gasp as she kisses you and her mouth opens too, her hand coming up to cup your jaw as her tongue swipes past your lips. The sound you let out is involuntary and you would be embarrassed, if not for the fact that you can’t think of anything except Georgia - her lips on yours, her body wrapped around you, her hands burning your skin.

Eventually, breathing becomes a necessity and Georgia must agree because she pulls back, though only far enough to lean her forehead against yours as she says, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You think?” you ask, needing Georgia to be absolutely certain before you let yourself hope.

“I’m pretty sure,” Georgia corrects herself. “I’m still figuring it out but I’ve been thinking about it ever since you told me you liked me, and then when you showed up in Munich last week to surprise me … nobody’s ever done something like that for me before. And I can’t imagine anyone else making me feel the way that you do. You’re so much more to me than just a best mate. You’re … you’re everything to me.”

“Do you really mean it?”

Georgia nods.

“Whatever I have to do to convince you I mean it…”

“Just hold me,” you tell her, pushing your body further into hers and nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck.

“Just hold you?” Georgia asks, her hand squeezing your hip, and though you can’t see her face, you can picture the smirk on her face anyway.

You lift your head and use the element of surprise to roll Georgia onto her back, trapping her against the mattress with one of your legs framed on each side of her hips.

“You’ve got other suggestions, have you?” you ask her, raising your eyebrows at her as you sweep your damp hair out of your face.

Her hands settle on your hip tentatively, like she knows what she wants but isn’t quite sure yet whether it’s okay.

“I’ve got some ideas,” Georgia admits, fighting off a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?”

You lean down, still hardly able to believe that this is Georgia telling you that she loves you, that she wants you in the same way that you want her, as you press your lips to hers again. You hope that you’ll never get tired of kissing her because each time feels more magical than the last, as you slowly get used to the way that her lips move, to the things that make her breath catch in her throat as she kisses you back, and you know that there’s a whole other side of your oldest friend that’s now open for you to get to know and explore.

It would be so easy to get carried away, especially when Georgia’s hands, already dangerously low on your hips, start to slide lower, but there will be plenty of time for that, you hope. You’ve waited long enough, thirteen long years, for this to happen. You can wait a little longer.

You reluctantly detach your lips from Georgia’s and settle back against her side, one of your legs slung over her hips and her hands coming up to wrap around your back as you lie half on top of her.

“Another time,” you tell her, as you let your eyes flicker shut, knowing that sleep will be easy to come by with Georgia’s arms around you.

“That’d better be a promise,” Georgia murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You don’t say anything, just laugh softly, and snuggle into her until sleep takes you both.

———

You wake in a different position, spooning Georgia from behind, but no less content than you were when you fell asleep. Georgia is still fast asleep, body rising and falling with each deep breath, and you manage to carefully extract your arms from around her so that you can reach for your phone on the bedside table to check the time.

You let out a soft groan when you see the time because you’re supposed to be at training in Manchester in less than two hours, and as perfect as last night was, finally getting an admission from Georgia that she feels the same, you now have to deal with the consequences of staying overnight in London instead of driving back home last night after the match.

You slip out of bed as quietly as you can, intending to go into the bathroom to call Gareth and give him some kind of made up excuse about why you’re not going to be at training. Something that doesn’t involve having to admit that you prioritised a girl over your career, even though Georgia is so much more than just a girl and last night will hopefully be the first of many that you get to experience falling asleep in her embrace, but you’re not so sure that your manager will understand or approve.

But before you can make it as far as the bathroom, you hear a sleepy voice from behind you.

“You’re not sneaking out on me, are you?”

You turn to the most adorable sight, a sleepy Georgia rubbing at her bleary eyes as she pushes herself up onto one elbow, her hair sticking up at an awkward angle on the side she slept on.

“No, of course not,” you promise her. You hold up your phone and explain, “I just need to make a call. I’ve got training today and obviously I’m not going to make it.”

“Come back to bed,” Georgia pleads with you.

“One sec,” you say, calling Gareth and lifting your phone to your ear as you sit down on the edge of the bed.

When it rings through to voicemail, you’re a little relieved that you don’t actually have to talk to him in person, and you wait for the tone before leaving your message.

“Hi Gareth,” you say, deliberately rasping your voice as you try to sound as sick as you possibly can. “I’m really sorry but I don’t think I’m going to make it into training today. I’m not feeling well and I’ve already been sick once this morning. Sorry again. I’ll catch up with you soon when I’m feeling better. Bye.”

You hang up and toss your phone aside, ignoring the amused look on Georgia’s face as you get back under the covers.

“Pulling a sickie, eh?” she teases you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, though you still cuddle back into Georgia’s side, tangling your legs together beneath the covers once more.

From this close, you’re taken aback by just how pretty she is. Not that it’s the first time you’ve thought that, but seeing her like this, still slightly heavy-eyed from just waking up, looking back at you with adoration mirrored in her dark eyes, and being able to take it all in without having to worry about whether you get caught staring at her, is brand new. And with whatever limited time you have left before you inevitably have to get up and leave the blissful sanctuary of Georgia’s bed, you just want to kiss her, to feel her body against yours so that you have something tangible to remember this by when she has to go back to Munich.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“You don’t have to ask.”

“I do,” you insist. “Because I can’t believe that last night actually happened. I’m still kinda waiting for you to tell me it’s just a prank.”

Georgia presses forward and her lips meet yours. It’s slower than the kisses you exchanged last night before bed, but you sigh happily into the kiss and bring your hand up to cup Georgia’s cheek. She lets out a little noise that you capture with your own mouth as your fingertips brush against a sensitive spot just below her ear and you make a mental note to revisit the spot later, perhaps with your lips and teeth instead, and vow to find every other spot that makes her whimper and melt into putty.

You make out for a while, a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths without any real destination. Having spent at least the last eight months dreaming of getting to spend quiet mornings in bed with Georgia, kissing until it’s hard to tell where you end and she begins, you’d be quite happy to keep doing this for the rest of eternity, but she eventually pulls back.

“I wish I didn’t have to go back to Germany,” Georgia says, echoing your own thoughts.

“But you love it there,” you remind her, trying to be the voice of reason, even though you wish you could both just exist in the cocoon of this hotel room for the rest of time.

“I love it here too.”

“Here being…?”

“With you,” Georgia clarifies, and your face cracks open into a big grin.

“Didn’t know you were so soppy, G,” you tease her.

“Neither did I. I guess you bring it out in me.”

“Charmer,” you say, snuggling into her shoulder and sliding your hand under the hem of her t-shirt so that your fingertips can brush across the skin of her hip bone.

“We should really get up,” Georgia says, though she makes no move to do so.

“Five more minutes?” you ask, nuzzling your face into Georgia’s neck and pressing your lips to her pulse point.

“Go on then. Five more minutes.”

———

It’s another twenty minutes before you eventually drag yourselves out of bed, which means you have to rush to get ready and any chance you might have had to slip out of the hotel before any of Georgia’s teammates see you is ruined when you hear a knock on the door.

You’ve redressed in last night’s clothes, now mostly dry, and grab the last of your things as Georgia opens the door, revealing three of her teammates standing out in the hallway.

“Breakfast?” they ask her, before three pairs of eyes look past Georgia and fall on you, slipping your feet into your trainers.

“I should go,” you say, checking your coat pocket for your car keys and wandering over to where Georgia stands at the door once you’re satisfied you’ve got everything. “Text me when your flight lands.”

“I’ll text you before then,” Georgia says, her hand coming up to rest on your waist as she tilts her head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It’s far more chaste than the ones you shared last night and this morning but it’s still enough to draw some sniggers out of her teammates.

“Bye,” you whisper against her lips as you pull away.

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you too.”

As you leave the room and walk down the hall, you can hear Georgia’s teammates starting to tease her loudly behind you, and you enter the lift fighting off a smile that has everything to do with the development of your relationship in the last ten hours.

———

Luckily you don’t have to wait long to see Georgia again because just a few days after the Champions League match, she returns to England for another Lionesses camp as you prepare for the Finalissima against Brazil.

Naturally, you smuggle Georgia into your room almost as soon as she arrives on camp and spend the night trying really hard to keep your hands to yourself, because you’ve waited so long for Georgia to be yours that you’re determined to wait a little longer so that your first time together isn’t at St George’s Park while your teammates are trying to sleep in the rooms on either side of yours. But you settle for kissing her heatedly well into the night and waking up with her head resting on your chest and one of her arms draped around your waist.

You’re in such a good mood when you go down to breakfast on the first morning of camp, that you completely forget that nobody else knows about the new development in your relationship with Georgia. Specifically, you forget that Keira, who knows pretty much every other up and down of the last few months, doesn’t yet know that Georgia reciprocates your feelings.

You sit at your usual table for breakfast, Keira opposite you and Georgia setting her tray down next to yours.

“I’m just gonna get some juice,” Georgia says. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks,” you reply, taking a sip from your mug of coffee.

You watch as Georgia wanders over to the jugs of juice, your gaze following the swish of her ponytail before dropping to appreciate her legs and the shape of her butt in her training shorts. It’s only when Keira kicks you under the table, hard enough to surely leave a bruise on your shin, that you snap out of your trance.

“What?”

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” Keira hisses across the table.

You pause for a second, glancing between Keira and Georgia, who is on her way back to the table with a glass of orange juice, and then you laugh. You can’t help the way that it spills from your throat because Keira is looking at you like being in love with Georgia is the worst thing in the world, and while it might have been painful a week ago, you don’t know how to begin to explain that in the space of just a few days it’s become the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“What did I miss?” Georgia asks, as she returns to the table and sits down beside you. “What’s so funny?”

“Keira thinks I’m in love with you,” you explain.

Keira’s eyes widen, and now that you’ve got over the initial surprise of her question, you start to wonder if you can have a bit of fun before actually telling her the truth.

Georgia is clearly thinking the same, because she nudges your thigh with hers and says, “Aw, you love me? That’s lame.”

Keira looks even more panicked - understandable given that she’d probably expect Georgia to be a little more considerate towards your feelings if she didn’t reciprocate.

“Can we talk after breakfast?” Keira asks. “Because I’m worried about you. I thought you’d…” Keira’s eyes flit across to Georgia, then back to you, giving you a deliberate look as she says, “… you know.”

“You thought she’d moved on?” Georgia fills in the gap. She puts down her fork, then reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together and resting them on the table where Keira, and anybody else, can see. “Fat chance of that. She’s obsessed with me.”

Keira looks more confused than ever, and you realise that you probably owe her an explanation.

“G’s my …” You pause, realising that while you’ve both admitted you love each other and there seems to be an understanding that you’re together now, you haven’t actually had a conversation to put an official label on what you are. You turn to Georgia and ask, “Are you my girlfriend?”

“If that’s your way of asking me, it’s not very romantic, is it?” Georgia teases you.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to Keira and say, “She’s my girlfriend. We’re dating.”

To emphasise your point, you bring your joined hands to your lips and press a kiss to the back of Georgia’s fingers.

Keira’s eyes look like they might pop out of her head at any second.

Leah sits down in the empty seat beside Keira, taking one look at your joined hands, before she says, without a hint of surprise in her voice, “You two have finally got your shit together, then? About bloody time.”

“How are you not more surprised by this?” Keira asks Leah, apparently exasperated by the new development. “I’ve spent months listening to this one,” she jabs an accusatory finger in your direction, “whine on and on about how much she loves Georgia and how Georgia is never going to love her back to the point where I’ve genuinely had sleepless nights worrying about it, only for them to hard launch their apparent relationship by rocking up to breakfast and just holding hands like it’s completely normal!”

Keira is usually so cool and composed, even when under stress, that it’s weird to see her have an outburst like this, but she’s the only one who knows the extent of how much your feelings for Georgia not being reciprocated until now has really affected you over the last few months, and for that she deserves an explanation.

Georgia leans closer to you and whispers, “Babe, I think we broke Keira.”

You’ll have time to process the way that Georgia’s use of the pet name babe makes your heart do an actual somersault in your chest, eager to revisit the subject later, but you probably owe Keira an explanation before she actually combusts.

“I love her,” you tell Keira and Leah. “And it turns out G loves me too, it just took her a while to figure it out. But we’re serious about giving this a go. It’s brand new, which is scary and exciting, but…” You turn to Georgia now, almost forgetting that the others are here too as you get caught in the adoration in Georgia’s eyes. “But she’s my girlfriend, my best mate, the only person I’ve ever felt like this about. So yeah, I’ve been a bit of a mess over the last few months trying to get my head around what I felt for her. But she’s worth it. You’re worth it, Georgia. And I’m lucky I get to call you mine.”

Your words come from the heart and it feels for just a second like the two of you are caught in your own little bubble of blossoming romance.

That is, until Leah bursts it by sarcastically saying, “Well thanks guys, I really didn’t want to keep my breakfast down this morning.”

It doesn’t matter if Leah ruins the moment. You’ve waited for Georgia for far too long to care. And as the news of your relationship filters through camp until the rest of the team knows, met with some surprise, some cries of “I knew it!”, and plenty of teasing, the only thing that matters is Georgia and the fact that you finally get to call yourself hers.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #georgia stanway x reader #georgia stanway imagine #angst

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barcaatthemoon · 2 months

Text

a thousand miles || kyra cooney-cross x reader ||

kyra comforts you when the distance begins to feel like too much.

your heart ached the longer you were left to sit and think about the fact that you were all alone. those feelings of sadness festered inside of you, like they had been since you left london. both you and kyra had gone there for arsenal, but they hadn't resigned you. viv had been lucky in going to manchester, but you found yourself stranded across the pond playing in the nwsl.

you had comfort in jen being there, but you missed kyra. she truly was your better half in your mind. the two of you were menaces to the rest of the team, but here in california, none of your old antics were half as fun. jen was worried about you, but nobody had the slightest clue about how to help you.

"kyra, baby, are you busy?" you don't think that you had ever heard yourself sound so small and timid before. it was pitch black outside, and kyra wouldn't have been able to see a thing if it wasn't for the little lamp on your bedside table. on the other side of the screen, you saw kyra at the arsenal facilities.

"(y/n), are you okay?" the usual jovial tone that you were used to with kyra was gone. all of that had been quickly replaced by concern as she took in the state of you. there was no doubt in your mind that you looked like a hopelessly sad version of yourself.

"i hate it over here. it's always nights like this that i feel the loneliest, and they keep happening. i miss you. i want to come back to be with you," you cried. kyra stood up and walked away, most likely for some real privacy. you could see a couple of girls in the background, a few of whom looked like they wanted to say hi but decided against it when they saw how kyra was moving to be alone with you.

"aw baby, i'm sorry. i know that it's hard, and i miss you too, but it'll be okay. just talk to me for a little, okay? i'll stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep," kyra said. you felt bad about pulling her away from whatever she was doing, but you also knew that kyra wouldn't let you go back to wallowing by yourself. if anything, she'd call jen to come and stay with you for a few days.

"we aren't really doing well as a team, which sucks. i miss playing with everybody back at arsenal. my teammates here are great, but it's not the same thing. last week, i had to leave dinner early because i was about to start crying. everything is different, and i'm so scared that i won't find somewhere to makes me happy like i was," you admitted. kyra wasn't sure how to help you, but she was determined to try. this was a good first step, everything needed to be out in the open.

kyra knew that you'd bottle it up otherwise. that had always been your worst trait. you let things sit and fester until you broke down completely. the weight of the world didn't have to rest on your shoulders, that was what kyra had taught you. both of you had matured so much being together, and a part of her was afraid that you'd regress on your own.

"i know that you don't want to feel like you're bothering anybody, but talk to me when you feel like this. talk to your teammates, form bonds like we did at arsenal. well, not like ours specifically, but like how we made friends with everybody else." kyra could feel herself start to ramble a little. she noticed you smile a little as you caught it as well. "is your light keeping you up?"

"kind of," you admitted. kyra didn't even have to tell you to turn it off and set your phone on your pillow next to your head. kyra could hear your breathing slow down a bit, but she knew that you weren't asleep yet. "can i tell you something kind of lame?"

"i don't think anything you say is lame."

"you're the only one who has me letting my walls down. i feel so safe when i'm with you, kyra. i wish that i would have just went down a league instead of moving all the way over here. there's too much distance between us, and i miss you so much that it hurts," you told her. kyra cleared her throat as she felt a lump begin to form. she didn't want you to leave, but she couldn't be the reason that you sacrificed your career.

"i think that you did the right thing leaving. it was good for you, and when we get to visit each other, everything will be that much more special," kyra reasoned. it was hard to find a reason not to be upset or resentful, and kyra was proud of herself for figuring it out. things would be easier, you just needed to trust the process to get there.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross imagine

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

Hayley Raso + “you’re such an asshole I can’t believe I like you” + playing video games together ! 🧎‍♀️🫶🏼

world class II h.raso

"hay, baby you can't sleep yet." you wandered past the lounge and noticed the australian start to drift off, shaking her ankle as she groaned and opened her eyes.

"why?" hayley sighed deeply, rubbing her face and crossing her arms over her chest. "because the entire point of your jetlag plan is so you're back and fit to train a few days before your match babe." you smiled sympathetically.

"baby i could just take a tiny nap? then i'll still sleep tonight!" the brunette tried to bargain as you shook your head. "not part of the plan, and as both your girlfriend and a physio i have to ensure you follow that plan!" you laughed, gesturing for her to sit up.

you and hayley had met during her season at everton. you were only a trainee physio then, on work placement to finish your degree but you'd caught the australian's eye right away, the two of you getting along like a house on fire.

hayley was sat with a proud smile at your graduation, still only a friend to you then but not for a lack of trying, you only taking her attempts to flirt with you as banter and not yet clicking she wanted to be much more than just friends.

after you were fully qualified you quickly found yourself with a job offer in manchester for the devils, though still with 6 months left on your lease you stayed living where you had been and hayley amped up her efforts to woo you.

finally you clicked that she wasn't just being friendly on a drunken night out with some of her friends who were visiting from australia that she'd insisted you join, two of them quickly pulling you aside and asking when you and hayley had started dating it all suddenly made sense.

fast forward a couple of years and you'd both made the move to spain and were living in madrid, hayley still playing football and you working in a local sports clinic, working more with younger kids and teenagers who came up from the academies than directly with a team like you had been prior.

"you're no fun." hayley pouted with a frown as you shook your head. "maybe not, but neither is being medically benched because the team physios catch wind you're too tired to be cleared to play." you warned lightly, her eyes widening.

"you wouldn't!" hayley sat up properly now with a scoff. "i would love, if it meant you avoided any and all risk of injury." you promised softly, running a hand through her hair and shrugging.

"i wish you'd stayed working in england." hayley mumbled as her eyes began to once again feel heavy. "well aren't you absolutely charming." you rolled your eyes, turning to leave as a hand grabbed the back of your top.

"sorry! i'm just tired." hayley groaned, pulling you down onto the lounge and trapping you in between her arms and legs in a tight bear hug. "i know baby, but this plan will mean you aren't tired like this for very long." you twisted your neck to sweetly peck her lips.

"will you play fifa with me then? i was getting my ass kicked at tillies camp and i have to make sure i can hold my own before the next one. i didn't win a single game!" your girlfriend huffed, forever hotheaded and fiercely competitive much as it amused you to watch.

"love i've not got a clue how to play. in fact hay you banned me from playing because it was 'too hard to watch' remember?" you quirked an eyebrow as a guilty smile curled into her features.

"babe that was ancient history, i'm a new much more patient woman now." hayley grinned as you let out a loud sarcastic peal of laughter and tapped at her forearms to let you up.

"it wasn't even eight weeks ago raso." you hovered over her with a shake of your head, suddenly pulling back as she tried to sit up and capture your lips in hers. "oi! come here and give me a kiss." the australian frowned impatiently.

"no." you smiled, standing and heading toward the kitchen to make lunch for the pair of you, not at all surprised at the sound of footsteps hurrying after you.

"hayley!" you gasped as a body barrelled into you almost taking you down to the floor before your girlfriend grabbed your hand, spinning and dipping you, holding you just from falling as your heart raced.

"don't do that! its not funny." you smacked her chest with a thump as she laughed and you scowled, trying to move past her but before you could take another step her mouth was pressed against yours, feeling the winger smile into the kiss.

"you're a child sometimes." you pulled away and smacked her on the head with a magazine that was handy on the counter, only causing her to smile wider clearly proud of herself.

"that can wait! just one game? it'll help keep me awake." your girlfriend tugged you back from the kitchen with her best puppy dog eyes as you sighed. "fine. one game!"

"how the hell do you defend? i forget the controls!" you moaned in annoyance, only having had possession for about two seconds this entire half as your girlfriend knocked back goal after goal.

"hayley!" you huffed as she made her player do a backflip after another goal and cheered loudly in your ear, kissing your cheek apologetically from where you lay between her legs, your elbows resting on her knees and your back pressed to her front.

"you said this would be easy." you complained as the game stopped for half time. "no, i said i would put the match settings on easy." your girlfriend corrected as you pinched her thigh unimpressed with the answer.

"you're winning 8-0 surely you can spare five fucking minutes to show me the controls again?" you huffed before she could click to resume play, a lazy kiss pressed to your jaw as she dropped her remote and her hands settled over yours.

"when you attack you click this to pass, this to clear, this one to sprint and this one for a header or a short ball, and this to shoot." she explained slowly, pointing out the different buttons as you nodded.

"when you defend its the same sequence just different results. this one to chase, this one to tackle, this one to slide tackle and this one to clear." your girlfriend explained as again you nodded, doing your best to follow along.

"so does this mean you might let me keep the ball for more than thirty seconds and maybe even give me a pity goal?" you asked hopefully as the winger grabbed her own control and grinned.

"not a chance darlin." she stole a kiss and clicked resume before you could bite back with a remark. the second half you played a little better, but still you failed to score and conceded yet another five goals making it so hayley won with a whopping 13-0.

"that was humiliating." you scowled tossing the remote to the side onto the lounge and rolling your eyes. "thats life, win some you lose some. i feel a lot better about my results at camp now! thanks baby." her hands settled either side of your face and tilted your head back so she could press kisses across your skin.

"you're welcome." you rolled your eyes, gently tugging her hands away and sitting up, glancing to the screen only for a moment as your head snapped back to it and you frowned.

"world class!? you said you put it on beginner." you turned to glare at your girlfriend who shrugged, quickly turning off the tv and sitting up on her knees.

"did i? guess i must have clicked the wrong one babe, sorry." she grinned, pushing you to lay down as her face hovered over yours, not an ounce of remorse in her eyes.

"you're such an asshole, i can't believe i like you." "only like?" "barely tolerate." "what happened to love!" "maybe if you weren't a world class bad loser, you might get some."

#woso x reader #woso community #woso #hayley raso x reader #hayley raso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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totaly-obsessed · 11 months

Note

Could you write for ella toone that's angst like she looses a match or something and takes it out on r and then tries everything to make it up to r

Groveling Time

Ella Toone x reader request

-> Ella does not cope well after losing a game and takes her anger out on you, her girlfriend

-> First request! Let me know what you think!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Gamedays were always special, especially for Ella. Being able to represent her childhood club with you by her side was so dear and near to her heart – she loved every single moment of it.

With the new season and not only Alessia missing from the Manchester United crew, but many of her friends having changed clubs, it was tough for the brunette and it was hard on her mind.

You were her rock. She loved knowing that she could lean on you if she ever needed to – a realization that had not come easy to her.

But this week was different, and you both knew it. It was yet another Sunday and Manchester United would meet Manchester City in a derby. This alone was another level of stress, there would be a huge upturn to the game with fans being very dedicated to their respective teams.

But the worst thing for Ella? You could not be there.

It was your grandma’s eightieth birthday and with her being very sick, your family never knew how much longer they had with her. You had asked Ella if she wanted to join you because then you would try to convince the rest of the family to push it to Monday – but your girlfriend insisted that she would be fine and that she wanted you to have a nice day with your family.

During dinner you tried to check your phone as often as you could, trying to stay updated on how your girlfriend’s team was doing. Seeing the 2-0 to Manchester City before the halftime break was hard, knowing how much Ella would blame herself, looking for mistakes in herself. Being the ‘worlds-best girlfriend’ as Ella crowned you, was not easy – but you decided to shoot her a quick text during the break.

‘Hello Gorgeous! Keep ya head up – cannot wait to see you tonight. I love you so much.’

It was sappy, but you knew that the young lioness loved it even if she would deny it till the day she died.

You arrived home before Ella did – so you made dinner.

Ella’s comfort food, knowing that she would not take the 3-0 loss easy. Some leftover cake was chilling in the fridge, waiting for dessert.

But it was getting later and later by the second – without Ella showing up at your shared home. You had texted Katie Zelem oven an hour ago, asking if she was with her and if they had plans for the night. The Manchester United captain however could not help you with your search for your girlfriend – telling you that Ella had left in her car as soon as she could.

By now you were incredibly hungry, having waited for the brunette for three hours seated on the couch, preparing lessons for the following day. At some point, you had turned the stove off and put everything in Tupperware placing it next to the cake in the fridge.

After waiting for a while longer, you started writing a little note to your girlfriend that you placed where she stored her bag so that she would definitely see it. ‘I was tired. ‘Dinner is in the fridge – cake too. Love you!’

You had already gotten ready for bed and nearly fallen asleep when you heard the front door fall shut. With slow steps, you trotted down the steps “Ella?” But you did not get an answer.

With your note in hand, your girlfriend stood in the kitchen. You tripped over her shoes that she had just flung onto the floor, the entryway being a complete mess. Bag in one direction, shoes in another – her jacket just in the middle of the ground. “Baby?”

She had her back turned to you, hands balled to fists by her side, your note crumbled in of them. There still was no reaction. You had gotten closer now, resting your hand on her back, trying to comfort her – but she shrugged you off. “Couldn’t have waited for me huh? First, you don’t show up for my game and then you don't even wait for me!”

Sure, she usually had a loud voice, but now she was just yelling into your face. Ella had turned around with so much force, that she had pushed you back a little. “I’m sorry baby but I was at my grand-“

“I don’t care! You should put me first! We lost because of you and your selfishness!” Tears were quickly making their way to your eyes, mirroring the brunette's bloodshot ones.

She clearly was not herself right now, so you tried to avert her attention. “Do you want me to heat up dinner?” A sharp scoff left you flinching back once she ripped the fridge open.

“No need – you didn’t even wait for me. Already ate huh? What a nice day. Leaving your girlfriend hanging, visiting your stupid family, and eating alone. How fun.” Her words hurt, she spat at you with such anger that it terrified you.

You had never thought that you would fear Ella. But the usually bubbly and funny girl was not herself right now. “And what are you wearing? Always stealing my shit! Don’t you have clothes for yourself?”

Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at your mirror image in the dark window. You were wearing one of Ellas' big shirts – she usually loved seeing you in her clothes, even making you change out of your own so that you could wear hers.

“I think I will just go to bed baby. Maybe you will have calmed down tomorrow.” Your feet were already on the stairs as you heard her muttering “Sure. Just leave me like you always do.”

It hurt, so much. You opted for the guest bedroom, leaving the brunette in the comfort of your joined room. Once upon a time, you had thought that maybe, just maybe this room could be used for your future child.

If there even was a joined future.

But you were determined to work at what was wrong – not wanting to throw everything away just like that. But Ella did not even enter the bedroom, she left again, the door falling into place behind her as you heard the car start outside.

Just as a precaution, you texted Katie as well As Mary and Millie – explaining to them that Ella was in a bad mood and to please tell you if she showed up at their place so that you knew that she was safe.

It was Mary who was the last to answer, telling you that your girlfriend was at her home.

Now that you had time to settle, the anger set in. So instead of sleeping like intended, you sorted your clothes – taking every single piece of clothing that you had from Ella, folding it neatly, and setting it down on her side of the bed.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t just hide her training gear – placing everything neatly in place. As angry as you were that Ella took her own anger out on you, you could never deliberately do something that could hurt her career.

The dinner in the fridge that neither of you had eaten was turned into your lunch at school – your students excitedly asking about it.

Ella meanwhile had gotten her brainwashed by Mary as she crashed on her couch – the goalkeeper refusing to give her teammate the guest bedroom.

The brunette knew that she had messed up.

Your joined home was empty when she came back in the morning. Her chaos was gone, as was the food in the fridge – once entering the bedroom she saw all her clothes. The clothes she loved to see you in.

Her heart broke even further. How could she hurt you like that?

After allowing herself to cry for a couple of minutes, hugging your pillow close to her your note from the night before tightly pressed to her chest, she took a shower and started to prepare.

It was groveling time.

It was still much too early to start dinner for when you came home, so she started with her folded clothes. The brunette put them back into the closet – your side of it. She didn’t want you to stop wearing them.

After that she started the already full dishwasher and washing machine in the time those were running, she started to remove the stains on the couch that you had been complaining about forever now. After emptying the dishwasher and starting the dryer, Ella turned to your most neglected room – your office.

The desk was a mess and there were papers all over the room. She started with sorting the papers – art projects of your students into one folder, and vocabulary tests that you had yet to grade in another one.

After a while she had made a good dent into your chaos – so that she could actually see the table again. It took her two hours until she considered the room as done – putting the vacuum back in its rightful place.

The time on the clock nearly gave her a heart attack – it was time to start dinner and prepare her speech.

Entering your home felt like entering the lion’s den – and you hated it.

The smell of dinner was overwhelming. You did not know what you had been expecting but fresh flowers, cooked dinner, and a cleaned house were not what you had in mind.

It seemed like Ella knew that she had seriously messed up.

“Hello, Ella.”

The brunette at the stove turned around at the speed of light at your voice – not having heard you walk in. “Hi, baby.”

The smile on her face was hesitant but seeing you, without steam coming out of your ears seriously calmed her down. “I think I have something to make up to you.”

It did not take a trained eye to see just how nervous the footballer was – but being her girlfriend certainly helps. “I think you do – but before you start, I would like to hear that you’re sorry and what made you act that way.”

Big eyes looked at you – head nodding so fast that you doubted that Ella could actually see clearly. It was safe to say, that you were spoiled for the evening – Ella making sure that you could not stay mad at her with everything in her power.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #engwnt x reader #woso imagines #ella toone x reader #ella toone #man united wfc x reader #lionesses x reader

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whorekneecentral · 11 months

Text

Miss Me, Miss Me

Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.

Word Count: 2,952

Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)

merry smutmas series

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess.

Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.

You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.

It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.

It was never your intention to make things messy.

You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.

Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.

Today was unavoidable though.

John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.

You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.

"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.

You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.

He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.

Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.

"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."

You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."

"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.

It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.

You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.

"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"

"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.

"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.

Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.

You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.

"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.

Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.

John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.

"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.

You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.

Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.

"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."

"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."

Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.

The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.

At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.

You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.

The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.

Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."

"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.

"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.

Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.

It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.

"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.

"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.

"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."

He nods, "we can."

"John could walk in."

The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.

"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."

You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?

He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.

Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.

Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.

It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.

"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.

"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.

Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy.

"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers.

“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth.

He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling.

“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach.

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.

It just made sense to you.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?

His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much.

Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.

The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.

Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.

The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.

"Please, Ruben."

"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.

Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."

Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.

Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.

In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.

Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.

How you wished you could scream his name right now.

His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.

“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.

"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.

You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."

"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.

Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."

You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.

When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"

"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.

"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."

John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.

He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."

"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.

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#ruben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x reader #john stones x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #merry smutmas xoxo

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thoseboysinblue · 4 months

Text

Lucky #7

Mason Mount x reader

You unexpectedly bump into Mason in Manchester after moving back home from London.

Word Count: 5900+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This was based on a dream I had. Thanks to @neverinadream as always for helping me flesh things out. Feedback always appreciated.

"Come on, Beck," you plead with your younger brother to hurry so that you can get him dropped off where he needs to be for training, "you're going to be late."

"I'm not," he rolls his eyes at you as he trails along behind you. He throws a haphazard "bye" over his shoulder as he enters the locker room to finish getting ready for training.

"Bye then," you sigh as you turn around realizing you've gotten yourself a little lost at the Carrington training grounds. You clutch onto the forms your parents asked you to drop off as you search through your messages for the name of the person you were supposed to leave them with.

"Finally," you say quietly to yourself once you find it, bumping into someone as soon as you look up.

"Y/N?" Mason chuckles as he realizes who just nearly ran him over.

"Mase, hey, sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," you shake your head at him.

"It's no problem, what are you doing here? You ok? You seem a bit frazzled," he looks at you warmly, giving you a grin that shows off his perfectly placed dimples, his brown eyes dancing playfully.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just taking care of my brother while my parents are out of town and need to turn some things into one of the administrators. I think I'm a little lost, though," you sigh as you look around.

"Maybe I can help," he smiles, glancing at the time before ushering you towards the administrative suite.

"That's sweet of you, but I'm sure you've got somewhere else to be," you offer him a smile.

"Nah, I'm good," he shrugs at you.

"I didn't realize you had a brother playing for the academy. Are you just here while your parents are out of town?" he makes small talk as he guides you through the hallways.

"Yeah, he plays for the under 13s and I moved back from London last week actually, it's a long story though," you shake your head.

"I've got time," he grins as he nudges you playfully with his elbow.

"Well, I took a new job working with the city's development department. I thought I had an apartment lined up but that fell through so now I'm living with my parents until I can figure something else out."

"That wasn't that long of a story," he chuckles, "and actually, I almost forgot you were from here."

You roll your eyes playfully at him, "well, I almost forgot you live here now," you grin.

"That hurts," he grins at you. "Here we are," he stops in front of a set of glass doors and tilts his head towards them.

"Thank you," you smile up at him as he nods before moving out of the way.

"Hey, Mase?"

"Yeah?" he turns back to face you.

"Glad to see you back out there," you grin at him.

"I'm glad to be back," he rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Will I be seeing you around then?" he looks at you, his eyes full of hope.

"Yeah, I guess you will," you smile softly at him.

"It's good to see you," he says as he pulls you into a brief hug.

"It's good to see you too. But go, I know you've got somewhere else to be, I'll be fine now," you shove him away as he lets out a hearty laugh.

You met Mason a few years ago after becoming friends with Ben Chilwell's younger sister. She had introduced you to several of his Chelsea teammates while you were living in London and while you would occasionally swap likes on social media or chat briefly through story replies, you considered most of them friendly acquaintances more than actual friends.

You bump into Mason a couple more times over the next few days of shuttling your brother to and from training.

One afternoon as you are watching him play in an academy match against another academy team you notice several of the first team players coming over to give their support. A couple of them make their way to the sideline, while a few others take seats among the small crowd of family members. Mason glances around, a smile flashing across his face as he spots you and comes over to sit next to you.

"How are you?" he grins as he offers you one of the two hot chocolates he's holding.

"I'm good, thanks for this," you smile as you take a sip.

"No problem, thought you might be out here, and it's gotten chilly again," he says as he bumps his knee against yours and hands you the hoodie he had draped over his arm.

"I'm good Mase, you can wear it," you grin at him. "I'm a northern girl, the cold and drizzle don't bother me as much as I'm sure they bother you."

"Ok there, Elsa," he chuckles as he runs his fingers over the goosebumps that have formed on your arms, "I know you can be stubborn, but you don't have to be cold. And I've got on two layers as it is."

You shake your head in defeat, handing him your drink as you pull the hoodie over your head, thanking him again when you are instantly warmer.

"Elsa huh?" you grin at him.

"I take my uncle duties very seriously. I'm a whiz at all things princess related," he smiles as he hands your hot chocolate back to you.

"I bet you are," you chuckle.

"Which one's your brother?" he says as he turns his attention back towards the match.

"Number 7," you point towards him as he makes a perfect pass to one of the attacking players.

"'That's a good number," he chuckles as he applauds the barely off target shot taken.

"Well his name is Beck, short for Beckham, so..." you trail off, "my dad's a massive supporter of the club," you shrug.

You continue making small talk as you watch the rest of the match, Mason never failing to keep you entertained. The unintentional and glancing touches shared between you becoming more and more intentional as you spend more time together.

When your brother scores the match winning goal in the final seconds the two of you jump to your feet, cheering loudly before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug, lifting you off the ground.

Once he steadies you back on your feet, the two of you exchange a shy smile while his hand settles over your hip and he gives you a slight squeeze.

You follow him down to the sideline as he chats with some of the other first team guys while you all wait for the academy players to come over.

Your brother makes his way over to you and you quickly hug him and congratulate him on his goal and the win before he spots the first team players and moves on to talk to them.

Mason gives him a fist bump and congratulates him as well before your brother asks if he can get a picture with him.

"Tell you what, I'll take a picture with you, if you'll sign that jersey and give it to me," he nods.

"Really, you want my jersey?" your brother is genuinely surprised by his request.

"Yeah mate, I think it will be worth something someday," he smiles at him. Your heart can't help but flutter at their interaction.

"Y/N, will you take picture of us?" Mason smiles over at you.

"Wait, you know my sister?" he asks out of confusion.

"Yeah, we were friends in London" they both turn to smile at you for the picture.

You take their picture and the two of them chat for a few more minutes, Mason introducing him to the other guys before reminding him he wanted his jersey.

Once Beck leaves to go get his things, Mason turns his attention back to you.

"Will you send me that picture?" he asks.

"Sure," you nod before opening your phone and handing it to him.

"If I scroll through these pics will I find something naughty?" he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"No," you blush slightly as you smack him playfully on the arm.

"I keep those in a hidden folder, protected by facial recognition," you chuckle at him.

"That's a shame," he grins as he passes your phone back to you having sent the photo to himself.

He walks the two of you to your car, telling you to drive safely and wishing you a good night before you leave.

Once you are home and settled into bed you notice a message from an unknown number, but when you open it you see the previously sent picture of your brother and Mason.

Unknown: had fun hanging out earlier. x Y/N: If you wanted my number you could've just asked. Didn't have to be sneaky by sending yourself a picture. xx Mase: 😎 Mase: Also took a quick selfie you can save as my contact pic xx Y/N: You're actually ridiculous. You know that right? x Mase: Me? Ridiculous? Never 🤭 Y/N: Thanks for what you did with Beck earlier. He didn't shut up about it the whole way home. x Mase: it's nothing, I remember being an academy kid and hanging on every word from those first team guys. Y/N: Well, it honestly made his day. He's already set that pic as his background on his phone 🙃 Mase: I wanted to ask earlier, but I lost my nerve.... Y/N: You? Shy? Am i hallucinating? x Mase: Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow? Y/N: oh. Mase: I'll take that as a no? Y/N: no Mase: now I want to crawl under a rock Y/N: Mase, no, that's not what I meant. Mase: oh? Y/N: I can't go to dinner because I have Beck still. But you could join us for dinner if you want to. Mase: Oh 😅 that sounds good. Y/N: Not used to rejection huh? Mase: Shut it. I was bricking it. Y/N: is 7 good? Mase: 7 is perfect 😉 Y/N: I'm gonna let that slide x Mase: It's a date then xx Mase: Shit. not a date date. Mase: is it a date? Mase: Fuck me, I'm losing it over here Y/N: You ok there? Mase: I don't think so 😅 Y/N: Mase, I'll see you at 7. For dinner. With my brother. For our not a date date 😉 Mase: Kill me now please Y/N: Nah, I think I'll let you suffer a little more. x Mase: Good night, y/n. I'll see you tomorrow. xx Y/N: Night, Mase. Sweet dreams xx

The next day Mason spots you as you are picking Beck up from training and jogs over to speak to the two of you briefly.

"So, I'll see you around 7 then?" he asks flashing a shy smile towards you when you nod.

"I'll send you the address," you grin at him, your cheeks slightly flushed.

Once you're settled in the car and on the way home, your brother begins questioning you.

"Mason is coming to our house?"

"Yes," you nod, "for dinner."

"Mason Mount is coming to eat dinner at our house?" he looks at you dumbfounded.

"Yes, Beck," you chuckle, "we're friends remember?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know you were like friends friends with him. You never even told us you knew him," you can actually see the wheels turning in his brain.

"I told you I knew some of the Chelsea guys through Alex," you say as you continue driving.

"Well, yeah, but not like, come over to our house to eat dinner friends," he still keeps pushing.

"Beck, it's not a big deal, but I need you to be respectful of his privacy and don't go blabbing around that he's coming over, ok?" you speak sternly, suddenly feeling the need to protect Mason.

"I won't. But I can hang out with you right?" He gives you his best puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, of course," you grin at him.

Once you're home you check to make sure you have everything you need for dinner and you realize you forgot to pick up some bread.

Y/N: I hate to do this, but is there any chance you could stop to grab some bread on your way here? Mase: Sure. Anything in particular? Y/N: Not really, just meant to grab some French bread or something like that to toast up. Oh and I'm out of beer if you want any. Mase: Got it. See you soon xx Y/N: See you soon xx

Butterflies flutter in your chest at the fact that he seems genuinely excited to be coming over.

You head to your room and change into something a little nicer, brushing through your hair and placing a few loose curls before lightly touching up your makeup and spritzing on your favorite perfume.

You want to look nice, but not too over the top since you're just staying in for dinner.

You make your way to the kitchen and start pulling out everything you'll need and begin prepping a few things, turning on some soft music to drown out the silence.

A few minutes before seven, Mason rings the doorbell and Beck bounds down the stairs and eagerly opens the door.

"Hey," Mason smiles at you as he follows Beck into the kitchen. He sits a bag down on the counter, pulling out the bread you'd asked for, along with some beer and a bottle of wine, and a small bouquet of flowers.

"For you," he holds the flowers out towards you, a slight blush creeping up onto his cheeks.

"Thank you, Mason," you smile, also blushing slightly as you take them from him and grab a vase to put them in.

Your brother chats with Mason for a few minutes before leaving to go play video games until dinner is ready.

"What can I help with?" Mason asks as he slides his hand around your waist and gives you a light squeeze.

"Hmmm, chopping or stirring?" you grin up at him.

"I'll take over chopping," he smiles as he slides his hand over yours, taking the knife from you.

You dump the veggies you've already chopped into a pan to start sautéing them before you start slicing the bread he brought and placing it on a tray to go into the oven.

You hear Mason take in a sharp breath and drop the knife one counter. Just as you look over to check on him you he pulls his finger to his mouth.

"Did you cut yourself?" you knit your eyebrows in concern as he nods in response.

"Let me see it," you pull his hand away from his face so that you can get a good look at it.

"It's not too bad," you whisper as you wrap a towel over it and grab a bandage and ointment.

You clean the small cut and bandage it up for him as he watches you carefully.

"There, good as new," you place a kiss over the bandage without thinking. The slight brush of your lips on Mason's skin sending both of your minds racing.

"Thank you," he says, barely above a whisper as you look up to be met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and a faint smile dancing on his lips.

You watch as his eyes flick between your eyes and your lips, his tongue running along his bottom lip as his hand comes up to graze your jaw. He leans in barely as if he's considering kissing you until you both hear Beck coming back down the stairs causing you to take a step back and Mason to drop his hand away from you.

"How much longer until dinner?" Beck asks, not even realizing he just interrupted an almost kiss.

"Um, twenty minutes," you glance up at him before glancing towards Mason and noticing the faint smile still playing on his features.

He really is gorgeous, you think to yourself before shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

Satisfied with your answer Beck returns upstairs, once again leaving you and Mason alone.

"I'll finish these," you say quietly as you pick the knife up and finish chopping vegetables while Mason takes over stirring.

You continue chatting while you finish dinner, Mason bumping his hip against yours and finding subtle ways to touch you the whole time.

While you are waiting the last few minutes for the chicken you placed in the oven to finish he grabs your hand and twirls you around, both of you laughing as you dance playfully.

During dinner, your brother peppers Mason with questions about football and training and getting into the first team. You smile over at him as he continues answering question after question graciously.

You and Mason clean up the kitchen while Beck takes a shower. You grab some sweets you'd bought earlier and settle onto the couch to watch a movie. You sit next to him but leave a respectable amount of distance between you. Unhappy with how far you are from him Mason pulls your legs over his lap and inches a bit closer to you.

Every now and then it seems like he's considering kissing you, but he never musters up the courage, settling for absentmindedly drawing shapes over your legs.

Beck joins you again about midway through the movie, knitting his eyebrows at how close you and Mason seem to be sitting.

You get up to go to the kitchen to grab some more popcorn and drinks. As you are returning to the living room, you overhear you brother questioning Mason.

"Do you like my sister?" he asks.

"Well, yeah, we're friends, I like hanging out with her," Mason answers quietly.

"No, do you like like her?" Beck keeps pushing.

"Oh, well, um" Mason starts, "I mean yeah, we've known each other for a bit, I guess, I don't know her super well, but I'd like to change that," he blushes slightly.

Your brother eyes him up and gives him a stern look, "don't hurt her or I'll have to step up my brotherly duties."

"Got it, mate," he chuckles quietly.

You walk back in trying not grin about the conversation you just heard, taking your seat next to Mason.

He throws his arm over the back of the couch, not necessarily around you, but giving you a little more space to lean into him a bit, your side barely grazing against his as you offer him some popcorn.

You watch tv a bit longer before Beck heads up to bed leaving you and Mason alone again but not before saying "remember what we talked about."

"What was that about?" a flicker of a smile dances over your lips as you look at a seemingly nervous Mason.

"Just doing what I would've done with my sisters," he chuckles.

"Oh," you arch your eyebrows at him before letting out a giggle and a yawn.

"It's getting late, I should probably head out," Mason says barely above a whisper as he drops his hand over your shoulder and traces a few circles with his thumb.

"Ok," you whisper back, leaning into him a bit more.

You walk him to the front door and join him just outside.

"Thank you for dinner," he flashes a smile at you.

"No problem, glad you could join us," you grin as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"Goodnight, y/n" he whispers sending a shiver down your spine.

"Goodnight, Mase," you breathe out.

He turns to leave and makes his way down the few steps.

"Hey, Mason," you say, before thinking.

"Yeah," he turns around to face you.

"Beck is leaving around lunch tomorrow for a few away games, I have to drop him off at the training ground," you say nervously, "I'll um, I'll have the house to myself a couple of days if you want to hang out again."

"I'd like that," he grins, "a lot actually."

"Ok then" you smile back at him.

"Ok," he closes the distance between you, kissing you again on the cheek, "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon," you push up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

The next day you are standing with Beck and a few of his teammates as they wait to load onto the bus when Mason wanders over.

"Hey guys, good luck over the next few days, I know you will do well," he gives them a few fist bumps and takes a few pictures with them.

"Y/N," he turns his attention to you, "Could you give me a ride home? I rode over with Licha but he's staying for a while longer," he trails off.

"Sure, Mason," you smile at him.

After checking in with your brother for a final time to make sure he has everything he needs, you and Mason make your way over to your car.

"Hope that was convincing enough," he chuckles as he opens your car door.

You glance over to see your brother and his friends watching the two of you before they get onto the bus.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure," you giggle back as he sits in your passenger seat.

You chat as you make the drive to your house, every now and then glancing over to find Mason staring at you.

"What?" you let out a quiet laugh.

"Nothing," he blushes. "Do you remember when we first met?" he asks somewhat out of the blue.

"Um, yeah, I think it was Ben's birthday a few years ago," you shrug.

"Yeah, I think you're right," he nods, "why didn't you ever seem to want to hang out with any of us?" he knits his eyebrows.

"Oh, well, it wasn't that I didn't like hanging out with you, it's more that I was focused on school. And while Alex was used to hanging around footballers, I was a bit more intimidated by it all," you look over to him as you stop for a traffic light. "Besides you seemed to have plenty of other entertainment so I didn't figure I would be missed."

He nods again, his expression softening. "And what about now, still not sure about hanging out with footballers?

"I kind of prefer to think of you as a friend of a friend rather than Mason Mount, the footballer," you blush slightly, "hope that's ok?"

"Yeah, I think I prefer that too," he smiles, "but surely I'm not just a friend of a friend."

"Are you not?" you glance over at him, a flicker of a smile on your lips.

"No, we've sent each other messages, you've cooked me dinner, I'd say we can count each other as proper friends at this point," he winks at you.

"And for the record, I did miss you when you weren't around, I've always liked talking to you, even if it was only briefly," he nods towards the light that has turned green.

You focus your attention back on the road as he turns on some music.

You both hum along for the remainder of the drive sharing brief glances at one another.

Once you've made it to your house, Mason hops out and opens the door for you and follows you up to the front door. His hand settles gently over the small of your back as you unlock the door.

You stop once inside the door and both of you kick your shoes off, Mason immediately pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your hair.

"I've been wanting to do that since I saw you earlier," he grins shyly at you when you lean back slightly.

"So what do you want to do?" he asks quietly, his thumbs drawing circles over your hips.

"Are you hungry?" you study his face, noticing the slight freckles you've never quite noticed before.

"Always," he chuckles.

"I was thinking I would make a sandwich, would you like one?" you smile up at him as he continues running his fingers along your sides.

"I would love one," he grins.

You move to the kitchen, Mason following closely behind you as you pull out a few things to make a sandwich for the two of you.

"So I have some unpacking I need to do, living out of boxes is driving me mad," you roll your eyes, "would you mind hanging out with me while I do that, I know it doesn't sound thrilling but..."you trail off.

"Sounds perfect," he smiles, reaching over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze.

After you've eaten, Mason follows you up to your room. He glances around, taking in the various things you have hanging on the walls, studying a few of the pictures as well, including one of you and him alongside Ben and Alex after a Chelsea match.

"You've been United fan for a while then?" he says as he studies a picture of you as a young girl.

"Yeah, my dad is a supporter of the club, he was close with some of the higher ups when I was younger," you grin at the picture he's studying of you with David Beckham and your dad.

"That was his last match for United," you smile, remembering the day fondly, "I've still got that jersey."

"I was at that match, too," he smiles sitting the picture back on your desk, "you sure you don't have the wrong number 7 in your room?" he chuckles.

You shake your head, "David is far too old for me," you grin.

"David is it?" he arches an eyebrow.

"Yes, he and my dad were actually pretty good friends, he's practically like an uncle to me," you laugh quietly.

"Well that's a relief" he grins.

"I've never had a guy in here before," you look around nervously.

"Really?" he knits his eyebrows.

"Yep, my parents had a strict no boys upstairs rule when I lived here. But I guess once you've lived on your own for a while those rules kind of go out the window," you shrug.

"Well I'm honored, maybe I'm the lucky #7" he smirks. He plops down on the bed, making himself comfortable as you turn on football and drop the remote beside him.

Mason watches football while the two of you chat and you work on unpacking some of your things.

"How long do you think you'll live here?" he asks.

"I'm hoping not too long, just need to find another apartment that hopefully won't fall through at the last minute," you smile at him.

"I don't mind helping you look for a place," he smiles.

"No offense, Mase, but we don't exactly have the same budget," you giggle.

"Doesn't mean I can't help you find something though," he shrugs, "just let me know and I can make some calls, ok?"

"Ok" you nod.

As you finish unpacking what you'll need to get by until you can move into your own place you notice Mason has gone quiet. You glance over to see that he's dozed off.

You smile to yourself, admiring the peaceful look on his face while he sleeps. Quietly, you tiptoe over to the bed and pull a blanket over him. Before you can turn to move away from the bed he grabs your wrist and tugs you onto the bed with him, sitting up slightly and pulling you so that you are straddling him.

You gasp at the suddenness of his movements before settling your hands over his shoulders and then around the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

He smirks as he settles his hands over your hips, "I've been wondering when I would get some attention."

"I'm sorry I've neglected you," you giggle.

His eyes continue burning into yours and you find yourself staring at him completely mesmerized.

He glances from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, shifting slightly closer to you.

"You should do it," you whisper.

"Do what?" he arches an eyebrow at you.

"What you're thinking about doing," you study him intently, nervously biting your bottom lip.

He flashes a smile at you before digging his fingers into your sides tickling you.

You let out a squeal of laughter as he continues and flips the two of you over so that he is hovering over you, your fingertips gripping his shoulders.

He brushes your hair out of your face, tracing your jawline with his fingers.

"I really like your smile," he breathes out quietly causing you to blush slightly and a smile to creep over your features.

"Yeah, that one," he smiles back at you, licking his lips lightly before brushing them delicately against yours.

When you react by kissing him back, he sighs softly against your lips.

He kisses you slowly and gently, until you're both smiling against one another's lips.

"You're right, I had been thinking about doing that," he blushes when you nod in agreement.

You pull him in for another kiss, a bit more heat behind it as he runs his tongue along the seam of your lips, moaning quietly when you part them for him and allow him to dip his tongue into your mouth.

The way he kisses you is needy and desperate yet somehow slow and patient like he's savoring every single second of it.

When you break apart naturally, both of you are out of breath as he rests his forehead against yours and you take each other in.

He moves to lay down next to you and you turn on your side to face him while his fingers still trace your jawline and down your neck to your collarbone.

"You're good at that," you whisper quietly.

He bites his lower lip to hide his smile, "yeah?"

You nod in agreement, "you're very good with your tongue," you say before blushing when you realize how that sounds.

He arches an eyebrow, trying to hide a chuckle.

"I mean..." you trail off and close your eyes, clearly flustered, "not like that, I didn't mean it like that," you blush even harder.

He leans over and kisses you again, chuckling quietly as you slip your fingers into his hair and deepen the kiss.

"You're good with your tongue too," he pinches your side lightly as you shake your head.

"Mase," you whisper quietly as he studies your features, realizing just how pretty you are, "what is this?" you ask biting your lip.

He looks at you and blinks a couple of times.

"I'm not trying to have a 'what are we' conversation after a couple of kisses, I'm not silly enough to think this makes me your girlfriend or anything..." you start to ramble. "I just like to be honest and want to make sure we're on the same page here, are you just lonely and needing some affection? I'm not really the friends with benefits type, and if you want to see other people that's fine, I just need to kind of know, what just happened so that I'm not blindsided by anything."

He places a finger over your lips quietening your rambling thoughts before pressing his lips to yours again gently.

"I'm not expecting friends with benefits, y/n, and honestly I wasn't expecting this, but I'm not just lonely and looking for attention or anything. And I'm not seeing anyone else," he reassures you.

"I um, I'd like to just kind of see where things go if you're ok with it. I always wished when we were in London that I could get to know you better but for one reason or another we never really had that opportunity, but we do now." He smiles softly at you.

"Ok," you whisper, "but just be honest with me no matter what. If you're not feeling it then tell me, and if you want to see someone else, just give me a heads up so I don't find out elsewhere, please."

"Yeah, I can do that," he smiles before kissing you again knowing he has no intention of looking for anyone else.

"Tell me something," he says quietly.

"Anything," you whisper back.

"You and Christian seemed to always gravitate towards one another, anything ever happen there?" he asks, "it wouldn't make much difference now, Ben and I just always wondered, and he doesn't kiss and tell," he rolls his eyes playfully.

You let out a small laugh, "Christian and I are both introverts, we'd end up together when we were tired of people-ing, mostly we could just stand there in silence and no one would bother us if we were standing there together. And no, nothing ever happened there, when we did talk, it was usually about you and taking bets on the parade of girls trying to get your attention," you grin.

"Is that so?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Mmm-hmmm, we had your type nailed down to an artform," you nod.

"And what is that exactly?" he quizzes you.

"Someone outgoing, but quieter than you," you giggle, "and more of the naturally pretty type, a little curvy, but natural curves," you shrug, "how'd we do?"

He rolls his eyes, "you introverts just sit around figuring people out huh?" He laughs.

"Am I going to overwhelm you with my extroverted-ness?" he asks earnestly.

"No, not at all, it's good for me, forces me outside of my own head," you grin.

"That's good," he smiles, "I am serious about wanting to see where this goes between us, if you can overlook me being a footballer," he winks.

"Yeah, I guess I can try to overlook that one tiny thing," you grin.

The two of you continue talking and cuddling as you turn on a movie and order pizza to be delivered.

After you've eaten, you settle back in the bed and turn on another movie.

"It's late, do you want me to call for a car to take me home so that you don't have to drive me?" he asks kissing the top of your head as you snuggle against his chest.

"Did you leave an overnight bag in my car earlier?" you turn to look up at him.

"I have my training bag, with some extra clothes and kit for tomorrow," he yawns.

"Then, I think you should go get it," you smile before kissing his chest.

"You're really going to break all your parents rules aren't you?" he chuckles.

"Not all of them," you wink.

You take the opportunity to change into pajamas while he's gone to get his bag. He joins you in the bathroom while you're brushing your teeth and doing your skincare.

As you settle into bed, he takes off his shirt and joggers, leaving him in just his boxers before climbing back into the bed and sliding under the covers.

You can't help but stare at him as he does, admiring his impeccably toned body.

"I might take that back about that one rule," you giggle when he raises his eyebrows.

"As much as I would love to defile you in your childhood bedroom, I'm gonna save that for another night," he grins before pulling you in for a kiss.

"Night, y/n," he whispers against your lips.

"Night, Mase," you sigh as he pulls you against his chest.

@neverinadream @chilwellspulisic @pulisicsgirl @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @xjval

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff

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coolemmasulivan2 · 16 days

Text

Rewinding Us | 4

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: You and Mason built a love story over five years, but after an accident, your memories are wiped away, including any feelings for your constant bickering "rival". Can you remember your love story with Mason, or will you have to start all over?

Word count: 2523

You can read part 1 here, part 2 here and part 3 here. | Bonus Text Messages here

You are the only one I'll ever love Looking back on my life You're the only good I've ever done (ever done) Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone (anyone) Not anyone

The weather in Manchester was unpredictable, providing you with both happiness and annoyance. When you longed for the chill of winter, the sun would shine and when you craved a dose of vitamin D, the sky would unleash an amount absurd of rain. Today was no exception. It was August and it felt like nature was teasing your wish for some sunshine.

You returned home after a long day at work, packed with groceries for dinner. It had been a week since you'd returned to Manchester, and tonight, you were finally going to see Mason again. He had a reason to visit, something to pick up from the house and since you were aware of everything, he'd simply asked instead of sneaking in when you weren't home.

Since your last encounter, Mason had encouraged you to reach out whenever you had questions about your shared history. True to his word, you had bombarded him with texts, curious about the memories that were slowly coming back to you. The most recent memory had occurred at three in the morning when you dreamed about a dog.

You: Did we had a dog?

Mason was fast asleep when his phone buzzed, the sound jolting him awake. Without moving his face, he reached out and grabbed the phone, his fingers fumbling in the darkness. As he saw your name on the screen, his heart skipped a beat. Worry gnawed at him as he unlocked the phone, fearing the worst.

When he read your question, his relief turned into a mix of amusement.

"She's going to kill me!" He muttered, sinking back into the pillow.

He quickly typed out a reply, attaching a photo of Ace.

Mason: We still do! His name is Ace.

The photo showed Ace sitting beside you by the pool, your smile bright and infectious. Seeing the image, you couldn't help but smile.

That night, you bombarded Mason with questions about Ace, your curiosity insatiable. Later that day, when you turned on the TV and saw him preparing for a match, you let out a curse. You'd completely forgotten about his game. He'd stayed up late, answering your endless questions, when he should have been resting.

Today, knowing Mason was coming over, you asked if he could bring Ace and without even realizing it, you ended up inviting him to dinner. It wasn't a romantic dinner, you kept reminding yourself. Just 'friends' having a meal.

Since the kiss you exchanged in the car, you couldn't stop thinking about him. The constant texting wasn't helping. One moment, you'd despise him, and the next, you'd be imagining what lay beneath his clothes.

Cooking had always been your therapy, you were always good at it, so that wasn't the problem. What made you nervous was not knowing what to wear. A dress? You were at home. It wasn't a date. Why did it matter?

"Just wear something casual but nice." Your friend and coworker, Dianne, said over FaceTime. "Like a blouse or a nice shirt. I mean, Mason would probably love you even if you were wearing a potato sack."

You threw the long summer dress you were holding onto the bed. "You're not helping." You muttered.

"I'm just telling you the truth." She insisted. "That man is so head over heels for you, he wouldn't notice if someone else was in the room."

A blush crept across your face. It was nice to hear those kinds of things, to know you were loved and appreciated. Your past relationships had been a series of disappointments, but with Mason, it seemed different.

"Since we came back, I can't stop thinking about him." You admitted, running your hands through your hair. "It's like… something clicked when he told me we used to date. Sometimes I want to punch his stupid face but at the same time I…"

"At the same time, you want to jump on him." Your friend finished your thought.

You groaned, falling back onto the bed. "I hate this!" You exclaimed, tossing your phone onto the mattress making Dianne face the ceiling.

"Girl, I've seen your relationship with Mason. You love him, and he loves you. You're that perfect couple who's still in their honeymoon phase, and it's inspiring to watch." She said, her voice filled with admiration. You listened attentively, her words sinking in. "Don't be afraid to approach him." She encouraged you.

You thanked her for her support and ended the call.

Gathering the clothes from the bed, you opted for a pair of nice jeans and a floral tank top. The weather outside was miserable, but inside the house, it was warm and cosy.

The food was in the oven, and you were chopping tomatoes and onions for the salad when the doorbell rang, making you jump. Ace's excited woof echoed outside the house.

Drying your hands, you hurried to the door barefoot, nearly tripping over the rug. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

A wave of happiness washing over you as you saw Ace running towards you, his tail wagging furiously. He'd missed you, that was clear.

You crouched down, welcoming Ace's enthusiastic jumps and licks. Dogs had always been your favourite, growing up with more than one back in the day when you lived with your parents. You spent a few minutes showering him with affection, your worries - or even Mason - temporarily forgotten.

"Hello, Ace." You said, stroking his soft fur. "You're so pretty, you big goofball." Ace's tail wagged with happiness. His eyes, filled with love and adoration, mirrored your own emotions.

Mason stood behind and watched you interact with Ace, a tender smile playing on his lips. His love for you was evident in his gaze.

"Hi." You managed to squeak out, your voice barely audible.

"Hi." He replied, his voice equally soft.

You stood up, Ace disappearing into the house. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your nerves showing. Mason mirrored your posture, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

"Come in!" You insisted, opening the door wider.

Mason mumbled a thank you and stepped inside, the familiar scent of home washing over him. "It smells good." He commented as the smell from the kitchen hit him.

You closed the door behind him and smiled. "Thank you. Dinner's almost ready. I was just finishing the salad."

He followed you into the kitchen. "Need help?" He asked.

"No, you can sit." You replied, continuing with the salad as he sat on a stool by the kitchen island. "Thank you for bringing Ace."

Mason watched as Ace wandered around the kitchen, his tail wagging happily. "Why don't I let him stay here and see if you feel the same way after." He suggested a playful glint in his eye. You stopped cutting the onion, your eyes locking with his. "It was a joke, Y/n." He added, sensing your reaction.

"But he can stay!" You persisted, your eyes sparkling. "I love dogs."

Mason chuckled, his heart melting. "He's your dog too." He said. "It's only fair to share custody."

You grinned, looking down at Ace. "Did you hear that, goofball? You're staying with me!" Ace's tail wagged with enthusiasm. Mason couldn't help but smile at the heartwarming interaction.

Mason had placed the salad on the table when the oven timer beeped. You grabbed the oven gloves and started walking towards the oven, but Ace, catching you by surprise, ran between your legs, causing you to lose your balance.

"ACE!" Mason shouted, his voice filled with both irritation and concern. He quickly reached out, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you towards him. Your back pressed against his strong chest and you could feel his warm breath against your ear. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with worry.

His hand rested on your belly, his warmth seeping through your tank top. For a moment, you felt an overwhelming urge to turn around and kiss him, but you resisted, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm fine." You whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you."

You didn't step away, and neither did he. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, a familiar sensation that sent a shiver down your spine. You stood there for a moment, lost in the moment until Ace's loud woof broke the spell.

As Mason stepped away, you felt a pang of disappointment. "Let me help you." He offered, taking the oven gloves from your hands.

He carefully removed the food from the oven and placed it on the table. You both sat down, the aroma of the meal filling the air. Ace sat at your feet, his tail wagging hopefully.

The dinner passed in a blur, the awkwardness of the beginning replaced by a comfortable ease. Mason's ability to make you laugh was infectious, and before you knew it, hours had flown by.

As you cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, Mason reminded you of the time. "It's getting late." He said, glancing at the clock. "I guess I should go get my things." You nodded, a pang of disappointment settling in. He dried his hands on the kitchen cloth after helping you and then disappeared upstairs.

You didn't want him to leave. The thought of staying alone in the big house again made you feel unsettled. Having him by your side felt comforting and familiar, and you didn't want that to change.

Ace, curled up on the living room rug, looked up at you. "Guess it's just you and me, goofball." You said, playing with his fur.

A chill had settled in the air, and you shivered involuntarily, so you grabbed the blue Nike hoodie you had left in the bathroom and you pulled it on.

As you sat down on the sofa, Ace eagerly joined you, his head resting on your lap. You turned on the TV, the soft glow illuminating the room.

Mason's footsteps sounded from the hallway. "Y/n?" he called out.

"In the living room." You replied.

"Have you seen a blue hoo--?" He stopped when he saw you wearing the hoodie he was looking for.

You shifted uncomfortably. "Is it your hoodie?" You asked him, realizing why the hoodie was so big on you. "Sorry, I didn't know." You grabbed the ends, ready to take it off, but Mason quickly stopped you.

"It's fine." He said, a playful glint in his eye. "It looks better on you anyway."

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your cheeks. "But you wanted it."

"It's fine. I have plenty." He insisted.

"But--"

"Y/n--"

"You can hav--"

"It was an excuse!" He said and you looked at him.

"What?"

Mason ran his hand through his hair. "I found what I was looking for yesterday in one of my suitcases, but you had already invited me over, so, my excuse was going to be the blue hoodie… You have on."

"Oh." You looked at him as he looked down in embarrassment.

"The things I do just to be with you." He whispered. He let out a shy chuckle and you gave him a smile. "Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. I get it. This was your life for five years and I took it from you."

Mason shook his head. "You didn't! The man that hit your car did. It's not your fault." You looked at him, not knowing what to say. Mason took your hand and held it tightly. "We didn't do anything wrong."

You looked down at your hand in his, feeling a warmth spread through you. Your eyes met his, and a smile crept across your face. "Do you want to watch a movie? I know it's late, but you can sleep in the guest room," you suggested.

Mason smiled, his gaze lingering on your face. "I'd like to, but I have training tomorrow morning." He replied.

A blush crept across your cheeks. "Oh, yeah, right."

He took a step closer, his hand still holding yours. "But I would like to take you on a date." He said, his eyes filled with sincerity. "If you want, of course."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I-I would like that." You stammered, your voice barely audible.

Mason squeezed your hand. "Good!" He said, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I'll call you." You nodded. He looked down at Ace and petted him. "You're staying with Y/n, buddy! It's your job to protect her, okay?" The dog gave him his paw and you laughed.

"I'll walk you out." You offered.

You followed him toward the front door. "Just to be clear," He started, stopping himself when you opened the door. "I'm asking you out because I love you and I want you back. It doesn't matter if you don't have your memories back. I want you to fall in love with me again, so, I'm going to do whatever it takes for that to happen." He said. You felt like your legs were going to give up as he leaned in and kissed you softly on the cheek. "Good night, Y/n!"

"Good night, Mason!"

You watched Mason's car disappear down the driveway, a wave of sadness washing over you. You closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a sigh.

A few weeks ago, if someone had suggested you would develop feelings for Mason, you would have laughed in their face. The idea had been absurd, but here you were, feeling sad after seeing him leave.

As you sat down on the sofa, Ace joined you once again. "Do you like Mason, goofball?" The dog looked up at you, his ears perking up at the mention of his favourite human and let out a joyful woof. "Me too! Me too!"

Half an hour later, you were lost in thought when the doorbell rang, startling you out of your trance. Standing up, you approached the door and swung it open, your surprise evident as you saw Mason standing on the doorstep.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did you forget something?" You asked, your voice laced with concern.

Mason's gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, a hint of something unsaid lingering in his expression. "I re- I remembered you didn't have Ace's food." He stuttered, his words stumbling over each other.

"Oh." You replied, disappointment washing over you. "You want to take him back!"

"No, no. It's not that." He said quickly, shaking his head. He went back to his car and returned with a bag of dog food.

You watched him, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "You didn't have to." You said, your voice soft.

He shrugged, his cheeks reddening. "I thought it would be nice."

Your heart swelled with warmth. "Thank you, Mason." You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You're sure you don't want to stay over?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Mason hesitated, his eyes locking with yours. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. "I'll stay." He smiled and said, his voice barely audible.

Relief washed over you, a smile spreading across your face, as you closed the door.

#footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football imagine #footballer x y/n #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mm7 #Rewinding Us

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a66-1 · 5 months

Note

HI OMG i just read all your stuff and theyre so GOOD AGHH!;!3)2):&;&??? and for any requests how about another docile!simon because hes SOO CUTE IM IN LOOVEE or a childhood!best friend 😮‍💨😮‍💨

crying and throwing up bc AHH

tysm omg..

it's giving I should do both of these

Childhood bestfriend!Simon (who's a docile soul) x Reader.

a/n: major fluff ❤️

what was a661 listening to? (Homesick by Noah Kahan, Sugar Sweet by Benson Boone, Young Blood by Noah Kahan, Like Real People Do by Hoizer)

Unedited and not proofread

Simon and you go way back, and I mean way back. You knew this boy since he learned how to tie his shoe. (Unsurprisingly you had to teach him because what the heck are you doing to the laces?)

You lived slightly south of Manchester, and only really saw Simon when your parents met up every month or so, but you and Simon were essentially locked at the hip when you two were around each other. Pinkies bound together as you walked around the pond, watching the swans swim in the water. His smile was always so.. Soft. Never a big, excited smile. One where you knew he was comfortable.

His older brother always scoffed at the two of you, opting to stick by his parents and yours as they sat on a bench, as they talked amongst themself. Simon Unhooked his pinkie from yours as he bent by a few rocks, looking through them.

"Hey, come 'ere." He gestured you over. You crouched next to him. He picked a few weed flowers, and plopped on the ground to tie the bottoms together. When he was done, he handed them to you.

"There! For you. They're really pretty." He smiled softly, as you took them. You laughed quietly, and hugged him.

"Thank you, Si." You said quietly, before pecking his cheek. You heard your mom yell at you to get your hands off eachother, as you two are only 8 and 10.

You two separate, and walk back over to your parents. Simon had a pink hue to his cheeks, but nothing he couldn't not excuse as sunburn.

Once you got in your rickety car back to your house, it's not like you knew you'd never see him again. You were packed and already on the plane 3 weeks later.

The absolute meltdown you had in the airport had your mom threatening to ductape your mouth shut, and you're pretty sure you cried all the way to America.

You lift your head, noticing your spot in line has moved up, again. You shift forward, a basket of food in your arms. You got your own places little over a year ago. Freedom feels.. Great, actually, nobody is on your ass and you can freely drive anywhere without a 'where tf are you??' text.

You get to the register, and give a polite nod and 'I'm good, and you?' Your accent still catches a few people off guard. Fucking hell, this state is absolute shit sometimes. Just because some people aren't the same as you, you don't gotta be weird about it-

It's not even like it's heavy, it's just slightly there. Growing up with the most British parents in a very not British town has got your accent all odd, but if anyone from Manchester heard you, they might be able to decipher you.

You take your bags and walk to your car, loading it. Just one more thing in the list... Ah, the pet shop. The place isn't far, so you lock your car and start your walk on the way there.

A few Military officers stand a block away, across the street. They don't look quite American, in all actuality, isn't that the flag from-

You abruptly run into someone. Fuck. God, why don't you keep your eyes open every once in a while? You take a step back, rubbing your nose. Crap, they had a hard fucking chest, because your nose feels half broken.

"My bad, I'm so sorry-" You glance up to notice an military officer. You stand straighter, noticing the Union Jack flag. The guy has gear on, and a.. Ghost mask? A bavaclava, I'm pretty sure, and some eye black.

"It's.." He squints, pausing, before continuing, "Fine. It's fine."

That's an accent if you've heard one. God, it's familiar as crap, you know you've heard it before. Which parents had that accent again? Sounds like.. Jack's parents were more west...

"You uh.. You from here?" He gruffly asks, "Can tell you got an accent."

You shake your head, "I was born in Manchester, moved when I was 8, give or take."

His eyes widen this time, before cursing. He turns to the group of men further down, and throws a hand signal. They nod, and continued a conversation they were having.

"Oh? I had a friand who uh.. Who.." He hesitated, but he slipped off his mask.

"Who did that too."

You stared doe eyed at him. "Simon?"

That blonde hair is impossible to forget. You choke on a laugh, before grabbing his face. His nose is definitely different, but it looks like shits been broken.

"Holy shit, it's you." He smiled. Fucking hell, his smile.

"Jesus! What're you doing here, I mean- I-I never thought we'd-" You cut yourself off with a laugh, before hugging him tightly, your hands curling into his hair. He swiftly hugged back, rocking you softly. Goddammit, he looks good.

Good, good.

"Oh lovie, you can't understand how happy I am, I remember how you left and.." He stares at you quietly, and frowned. "Never really made another friend like you again."

That made you frown, "Si, you should've made friends! I was just the example!" You throw in a smile, to show him your joking.

You both find yourself laughing together, your hands back on his cheek, his hands on your hips. And.. Some reason naturally, you drifted closer and.. Kissed. Neither of you hesitated, it was swift and you kept his head against yours, and you made sure the kiss was good.

He was good.

You both pulled away, a soft look shared among you too.

"Are we gonna brush past that, or.." He laughed, and hugged you again, swinging you around once. You yelped, and hit his shoulder.

"Put me down!!" You squealed, laughing.

Price glanced over to the two of you, Soap turning as well.

"Tha' there mus' be tha' Bonnie he mentions," Soap nods slightly, smiling for his friend.

"Sure is. I knew he'd take this mission cuz' o' her." Price chuckled softly.

You carded through his hair softly, looking in his eyes.

"I missed you, Si."

AHH THE IINSPO FOR THIS HAD ME SENT WRITING THIS.

Never seen something like this so I feel accomplished not having a clue how to keep going.

TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT!!

Request to get more fun stories like this!

Bye babes!

-a661

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon fluff #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost fluff #simon riley call of duty #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #mw2 ghost #a66-1 asks

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libraryofloveletters · 9 months

Text

Sing It With Me

John Stones x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol and the consumption of, the boys are so unhinged - especially john and kyle, ruben's in his vlogging era, sash are sooo over them, broken tables, terrible singing, jack and erling are attached at the hip per usual, reader is ready to go to bed and not deal with them, a few minor injuries.

Word Count: 834

Author's Note: I feel like this perfectly captures what the man city christmas parties would look like lmao

John’s Christmas parties were famous for being crazy and unhinged, much like their host himself; because who else would end up drunk on a table, singing Christmas carols?

John's Christmas party was famous amongst the Manchester City players; a night of fun, antics and plenty of booze.

Coincidently, your husband's ideal idea of a perfect night.

It was a week before Christmas and it's nearing 4am. "Are you sure you don't want to wait for him? You'll be alright to get home alone?" You asked Sasha, walking with her to the front door.

The woman nods, "he's not gonna leave anytime soon, I'd be shocked if he was home when I woke up."

Both you and Sasha knew how Jack was, his tendency to party outweighing his logical decisions.

You laughed, giving her a hug. "I'll keep an eye on him, keep him out of trouble. Let me know when you get home, yeah?"

"Of course," she smiles and you watch her walk to her car and get in before you shut the door and rejoin the group in the living room.

The boys who were left; Ruben, Jack, Erling and Kyle, were all drunk and giggling about who knows what. Your husband was pouring another round of shots when you dropped yourself on the couch next to Ruben.

"Tired?" He asks, his fingers tapping along his thigh to the beat of Last Christmas by WHAM that was playing quietly.

"Exhausted."

John comes in, tray in hand as he passes the shots around to the boys. He sits on the arm rest of the couch, his own arm around you. "Cheers! Happy Christmas!"

The seven of you messily attempt to tap your glasses together and down the shots.

At that very moment, it seemed as if the music had bitten your husband. He began singing terribly off key. You groan, slouching back into the couch. "Johnny, please.. don't start."

"Last Christmas I gave you my heart but the very next day you gave it away," he gets up, pointing to you as he sings.

Kyle jumps up from his spot, getting onto the coffee table. "This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special!" He shimmed along to the music and you can't help but laugh.

John joins his friend on the coffee table, the two of them dancing and singing along; it sounded more like screeching rather than singing. You assume it's the thought that counts.

Before you know it, Jack's up on the couch and singing too.

"Once bitten and twice shy. I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye." He does his little dance, hips popping from side to side.

It seems to have become the Manchester City musical in here because Erling gets up, tv remote in hand as a microphone when he too starts to sing. "Tell me baby, do you recognize me? Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me!"

You roll your eyes, "oh my god."

"Y/n! Y/n! What do you think?" Ruben shouts from behind his phone, the flash on as he points to you - he decided to make a video of their lovely performance.

"It's fantastic, 10/10 truly."

Erling grabs John's arm, leaving Jack to bounce on the couch alone.

"It's not gonna hold, you guys. The table isn't meant for that many-" And before you could finish your sentence, and just as Ruben pans to them, there's a crack and the table collapses in on itself.

"Are you guys okay?" You're out of your seat as fast as they fall on each other.

"Erling!" Jack gets off the couch and helps his friend up.

Ruben is still standing there, phone in hand as he recorded all the chaos. You, on the other hand, help Kyle up and then pull John up off the floor.

It takes you a second to check all of them, making sure the broken glass and wood hasn't nicked them anywhere. Kyle slouched on the couch, Ruben was 'interviewing' him, asking him about his performance and what he thought of it.

Erling was sitting on the floor, his head on Jack's knee while Jack was trying to take a selfie of them.

John was lying on the floor still, next to the broken coffee table.

"I told you the table couldn't hold all of you." You tell them, coming back to put a bandaid on John's wrist. "It was fun though," John mumbles, his arm pulling you down onto his chest.

Kyle gives Ruben a shove, the Portuguese take that as a sign to stop recording. "I'll buy you a new table." Kyle mumbles, taking a sip of his beer that he had left next to the couch.

Technically, it was Erling who broke it, so..." You trailed off, looking at the man who was half asleep.

Erling gives you a thumbs up, "send me the link, I'll buy it."

You can't help but smile as you look around the living room; all you husband's teammates and closest friends were here, all drunk and sprawled out, chaotic as ever.

It's not the holidays without the chaos, is it?

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #john stones #john stones x reader #john stones x you #john stones x y/n #football #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football blurb #kyle walker #erling haaland #jack grealish #ruben dias

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barcaatthemoon · 6 months

Text

tiny prancer || alanna kennedy x reader ||

you talk to alanna about your feelings after watching her play with harper.

"higher! higher!" your eyes drifted away from the interviewer once again as you heard harper's shrill shrieks of delight. she had been devastated whenever she saw you on the pitch, but had been immediately told that you were busy by gorry. luckily, alanna had swooped right in and picked the girl up before her pout could dissolve into a fit of tears. and now, you were swooning while trying to complete your media stuff for the day.

"sorry, sorry. this has been a hard comeback, but i'm grateful for my manchester family. i'd hate to give united their props, but those girls have also been so supportive. for our rivalry to be put aside, it means a lot. i'm very thankful for so many of my fellow players in the league from teams all over the country," you said. it was a good answer, one that people could tell came from the heart.

you had been away for nearly a year after a huge injury and bigger setback. it had truly been a freak accident, your knee giving out on you and the subsequent fall breaking your leg as you fell. there hadn't been any dirty tackles, and aside from alanna, the first person who had been at your side had been a manchester united player. some of those girls had really become some of your best friends when you needed a break from your teammates.

"well, everybody is excited to see you come back on the pitch this weekend. it has been overdue, and if the practice footage from this week is anything to go by, you're definitely in top form." you thanked the interviewer for their kind words before both of you were dismissed. almost immediately, you turned and jogged over to where alanna and harper were playing.

"do you have room for one more?" you asked. as into playing with alanna harper had been, she was quick to go to you. it had been hard for you not being able to play, but still going to practices over the course of the year, and harper was a big part of that. gorry had joked that you and alanna were like her other mothers, something that had always caused alanna to tense up a bit. although, you had noticed that she had seemed more okay with the joke, occasionally having a longing look on her face for the next week or so.

"of course we do, don't we harper? we always have room for prancer, don't we?" you rolled your eyes at the nickname alanna had not-so lovingly given you back at youth camp in australia. truthfully, the two of you had legitimately hated each other a little bit back then, but both of you had done a lot of growing up since then.

"we love prancer," harper said. you knew that she had probably been working on that for a while. harper had never called you that without alanna being directly beside her. alanna nudged her side, and harper stood up to give you a hug. "do you get to play at the game?"

"i do for a little bit, so i can't sit with you on the bench at first, but they don't want to hurt me again, so i'll probably be there for the second half," you told her. harper pouted a little, but she understood. there had been several long talks about you going back on the pitch where you belonged.

harper wordlessly handed you a doll to play with, explaining much better than alanna tried to what was happening. that game didn't last very long due to alanna's antsiness. the three of you played a game of tag, which ended with alanna and harper ganging up on you. alanna picked you up in her arms, gently placing you on the ground where she peppered your face and neck in kisses while harper tickled at your sides until gorry came to get her.

"i was nervous when we got here," you admitted. alanna knew it already, but you had been stubborn in insisting that you were fine. "everybody always says they can't wait for someone else to make their return, but i know what they weren't saying."

"don't think about it like that, okay? think about other things like how harper and i kicked your ass at tag," alanna joked. you punched her in the shoulder, earning you a bite to the thigh. "be nice. if harper sees you being mean to me, she'll think it's okay. i swear that kid loves you more than anybody else sometimes."

"we've become bench buddies, that's all. i bet when we have a kid, they'll love you the most. you'll get to be the fun parents, and i'll have to be strict," you sighed. alanna shot up and stared down at you, a confused, yet hopeful look on her face. "what?"

"what did you say?" alanna asked. you shrugged as you moved up onto your elbows. "you said 'when' not 'if' we have a kid. d-do you want to have kids with me?"

"kids? someone is getting ahead of themselves, but yeah, of course i do. i've been thinking about it, and seeing you with harper confirms it. before you came along and fucked everything up for my little 14 year old self, i was going to accept a promise ring from a boy. who knows how many kids i'd have now?" you said.

"i like the idea of a bunch of little prancers running around, but only if they've got the last name kennedy," alanna said. she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. you kissed her back, smiling into it a little. "how long have you wanted little kennedy babies?"

"alanna, don't," you tried, but it was too late. she was on something trying to get this out of you. truthfully, it had been before you were even injured, but you knew that you had been lucky then if alanna wanted to admit you were exclusively together at that point. she had fancied herself a player, something that only got worse whenever leila arrived at the club and they became friens.

"come on, i deserve to know. maybe if i've kept you waiting, i'll be sweet," alanna offered. you knew that she would be extremely sweet, but you'd have to get through the annoying phase first.

"fine, the first camp that i said we were together and harper was there. all the girls kept making fun of me because trying to tie you down was still a 'lost cause' or something," you said. alanna did the math in her head. you could tell whenever she had gotten there because a smile broke out on her face. "please don't be an ass about this, okay?"

"you thought i'd be a good parent back then?" alanna asked. you shrugged, unsure of what you had really thought. you just knew that you trusted alanna and wanted to do something special with her. "wow, maybe you really did love me back then too."

"of course i did. alanna, i've never been someone who could sleep with anybody i didn't love." you looked away from her, slightly ashamed of yourself. the girls had teased you a lot about your body count, which was the girl you made yourself fall for to forget about alanna hating you, and alanna herself. they had sort of thought you were joking, especially alanna, until you blew up at them for making fun of you.

"well then, i feel honored to be your person. and as much as i'd love to go to the doctor now and try to get you pregnant, your parents, gorry, and macca would kill me if i did," alanna pointed out. "so, what do we do?"

"let me play this season, and if things don't physically feel right in that way, we can look to starting a family sooner. we don't have to do this any other way than the one we want, remember that." you cradled alanna's face and pressed a kiss to her nose. despite the fact that you wanted a baby then and there, you were fine with waiting until alanna felt more comfortable.

#alanna kennedy x reader #alanna kennedy imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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wileys-russo · 11 months

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manchester is saved II m.earps x reader

"mumma!" you looked up from your phone, pocketing the device with a wide smile watching your almost six year old son sprint toward you, backpack comically almost as big as he was.

"well hello! someone's had a good day then hm?" you laughed at the huge grin on his face as he waved goodbye to his friends, you sending a smile to some of their parents you knew quite well.

"the best day!" mason beamed, and you couldn't help but melt at how much he looked like your wife when he did so. he had your eyes and the same dirty blonde hair that ran deep in your genes, but his sloped nose, rambunctious laugh and cheeky smile was exactly alike your wife.

"well don't hold out on me, tell me all about it." you demanded as you took his bag from him and he grabbed your hand, swinging it to and fro as the two of you began to walk home, not living very far from the school both you and mary took turns walking him to and from each day.

he began to happily ramble on and on about his day, which you knew he would enjoy given the fact they'd run a sports camp for the kindergarten class for half the day, you having give him very very strict instructions not to lose the permission slip you'd tucked away securely into his bag last week.

"then we have sports day next week! are you and mama coming?" he asked hopefully, looking up at you as you affectionately ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, moving it out of his eyes. "of course my love, we'll both be there." you promised as he cheered happily, hugging your leg.

"oh! can i go get mama some flowers?" he gasped, seeing a few wild daises growing in a clump on the nature strip, sprinting off after you nodded. you leaned against the front gate of your house with his backpack in hand, watching on carefully as the five year old squatted down.

you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself at the way his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth, eyebrows knitted into a frown exactly mirroring mary's own concentrating face as his eyes wandered the clumps of flowers in front of him.

you and your wife were both fiercely protective over the boy ever since he'd blessed the two of you coming into the world. you'd tried IVF three times until finally on what you'd both agreed would be the final run you'd fallen pregnant.

it wasn't an easy birth with mason coming out feet first, and a grueling ten hour labour had you demanding any and all drugs they'd give you, snapping your wifes head off anytime her lips curled up in amusement, cursing her out over and over as you'd almost broken her hand squeezing it so hard.

but you'd done it and the moment you both laid eyes on him felt a surge of love different to anything you'd experienced before, and in that moment you and your wife made a silent promise that no matter what you would never let a soul harm so much as a hair on his head.

though mary had always been the more over protective out of the two of you, especially since mason had always been quite soft spoken and sensitive, taking after you in that sense.

he was a perfectly happy child, always with a beaming smile on his face and refusing to let either of you cut his hair meaning it hung down just past his shoulder blades, often tied back into a loose bun to keep it out of his eyes.

but as much as he loved to run around and climb trees, scraping his knees and coming home covered in dirt or leaves, he also found immense joy in letting you paint his nails, or allowing one of his aunties to braid his hair, and you and mary made no move to discourage any of it.

though you did have to step in when he decided he wanted to wear his underwear outside of his clothes to his school one day and you'd made him change. taking the bad cop role that day your heart broke as afterwards he ran crying to mary, the older girl sending you an empathetic smile as she rocked him back and forth.

but his soft and caring nature had meant once he was old enough to talk mary had made sure to constantly affirm and build up his own self confidence, making sure he knew how to stand up for himself despite your fussing that he would be fine, your wife forever worried he would be picked on for being that little bit different.

the goal keeper was a nervous wreck his first day of school, overthinking every little possibility that something would happen. you did everything in your power to try and assure her that though he took after you he was still her son, and had her same hard headed determination to any task he set his mind to.

to your collective relief even if more shy in nature, school brought him further out of his shell, turning him into quite the little social butterfly, you and mary needing to get him his own calendar for the fridge to keep track of the multitude of birthday parties, play dates and outings he was invited on.

"come on mase!" you called out, shaking your head with a smile as he struggled to choose which flowers to pick, the boy glancing over to you and sending a thumbs up, quickly pulling out a small handful. you laughed as he also grabbed a fistful of weeds, tucking them in with his little bouquet and racing back over to you.

"i couldn't choose what ones, didn't want to hurt the other flowers feelings." he huffed as you smiled, opening the gate as he ran past you and up the driveway. "careful please!" you warned as he took the front steps two at a time, your breath catching as he stumbled but fixed his footing, waiting for you patiently by the front door.

"bang your shoes please babe." you nodded as he stomped his feet, shaking off the excess dirt and you unlocked the door. you took the flowers from him and hung his bag up as he sat down on the floor and pulled his shoes off.

mary's car not yet in the driveway you knew she wasn't home, much to masons disappointment as he ran a lap of the house calling out for her until you reminded on tuesdays and thursdays she arrived home after he did, the boy nodding with a sigh.

knowing the way to his heart was the same as your wife you proposed some food, tilting his head back and kissing his forehead as he sat at the table and you placed a colouring book in front of him.

placing his flowers in a cup of water you busied yourself making him a sandwich, waiting patiently as he ticked over and over trying to decide what he wanted. "half and half? mama can have the same when she gets home." you offered as he nodded happily, attention dropping back down to his colouring.

making two sandwiches, one ham and cheese and the other with turkey you cut them in half, placing two halves aside for your wife. "bbq or prawn cocktail?" you asked holding up two packets of crisps, your son pointing to those in your left hand.

placing a handful onto his plate alongside some cut up strawberries you put everything away, mason asking if he could watch some tv as you nodded, helping him down and following after him. setting his plate down on the coffee table you clicked onto his favourite show and left him to it.

you glanced to the time with a slight frown, mary normally home no later than four. with a shrug you helped yourself to the sandwich you'd made her, placing away everything you'd used as you heard her keys in the front door.

"only me!" she yelled out letting herself in, a thump telling you she'd dropped her kit bag by the door making you roll your eyes at the small habit you were constantly telling her off for. "in here!" you called back, mason's head shooting up as he hurried to his feet.

"you're home!" he launched at mary the moment she rounded the corner, the tall girl grunting as his body rammed into her legs and she stumbled for a moment before catching her balance. "hello handsome, i missed ya!" mary grinned, pulling him up into her arms and kissing all over his face as he whined and tried to push her off.

"yeah she's gross isn't she mase." you teased sticking your tongue out making him giggle as your wife let him down and he raced back off to finish his show. "forever the charmer aren't you darling." mary rolled her eyes playfully, moving to press your body against the fridge, just out of sight of your son.

"stuck with me now." you grinned holding up your wedding ring as your wife pulled you into a kiss, mumbling that was exactly how she wanted it. "you're home late?" you questioned as she let you go, pecking your lips a few more times and pushing off of you.

"had to drop tooney home her car shit itself again!" mary rolled her eyes as you smacked her shoulder and nodded to the five year old within earshot. "sorry gorgeous." the girl smiled guiltily, you forever warning her about her language in front of mason, who was in the phase of repeating everything and anything.

you'd both found that out the hard way the other morning.

"good morning beautiful." your wife had sauntered into the kitchen, playfully smacking your bum as she breezed past you toward the coffee machine. "watch it earps." you'd warned playfully, flipping over the pancakes as she stuck her tongue out at you.

"good girl mumma!" your head snapped down toward your son who now stood beside you, looking up at you with his disheveled bed hair and a smile, hugging your leg.

"what did you just say love?" mary frowned as he climbed up to sit at the table across from her. "good girl! mummas a good girl." he repeated making your eyes widen as they locked with marys, which only twinkled with slight amusement.

"why do you say that mase?" mary asked, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to de-tangle it. "you said it mama, heard you this morning when you and mumma were wrestling." he chirped, busying himself playing with one of his toy cars, driving it along the table and making noises with his mouth as you choked on air in surprise at his words.

"i'm going to kill you." you mouthed seriously toward the smirking older girl, who'd been insistent your son wasn't awake when she'd had her way with you this morning, far too eager to get up and lock the door despite your worries.

dumping masons pancakes onto a plate you moved to place them in front of him once you'd cut them up, gently removing the toy car from his hand and giving him a fork.

"thanks sexy!" the boy grinned, repeating marys exact words she'd just spoke as you handed her her coffee a few seconds prior. "mase no, thats an adult word okay? you do not say whatever mama says." you'd warned sternly as he'd only shrugged, too busy devouring his pancakes.

safe to say you and mary hadn't wrestled for quite a while after that, much to her utter displeasure.

"oh thank you." you smiled as your son ran into the kitchen and handed you his now empty plate which you stacked in the dishwasher. "mama! those are for you, i picked them." he beamed pointing to the daises on the counter, marys entire face melting.

"oh mase, baby they're beautiful. thank you!" mary grinned, affectionately touching the flowers before bending down to wrap him in a tight hug. "tell mama about your day mase!" you nodded encouragingly as mary picked him up and sat him up on the counter.

he gestured his hands around wildly as he spoke making you smile as you watched on, mary over-acting her facial expressions to make sure he knew she was just as engaged in his story telling, taking a quick photo with your phone and tucking it back your pocket.

you stepped out of the room for a moment, retreating to your bedroom and changing, taking off your bra and sighing in relief as you swapped from jeans into a pair of joggers, tugging one of your wifes england hoodies on over the top.

though as you returned to the kitchen it seemed your timing was somewhat perfect to hear the one sentence you never thought you'd hear uttered in the earps household.

"and i was striker! and i'm gonna be striker on wednesday for sports day." mason beamed as you stopped in your tracks, watching marys face fall for a moment before she slapped a fake smile on, nodding through the pain in her eyes.

"hey mase? can you go and tidy up your toys on the floor of your room please." you called out, your son nodding as mary helped him down, slumping against the counter as he disappeared and you checked he was out of earshot.

"oh my love." you held back the urge to smile, opening your arms as the taller girl collapsed into them, chin resting on your shoulder as she let out a deep and troubled sigh. "a fucking striker. my own son!"

"mary." you warned, rubbing her back and feeling her huff. "there is goal keeping trophies, gears, posters, all around this house! and now he wants to be a fucking striker." mary unwrapped herself from you, pulling herself to sit up on the counter with a scowl.

"at least he wants to play?" you tried, moving to stand between her legs with your hands resting on her knees. "i'd rather he not play than be a bloody striker! no son of mine isn't going to follow in his mothers footsteps." mary shook her head firmly, a smile curling onto your lips.

"baby you can't force him to be a goal keeper." you laughed as she only scoffed. "i can and i will! just you watch." mary challenged, pushing you away with her foot and jumping down, calling out for mason.

"mary alexandra earps, you leave him be." you warned, your wife waving you off as your son appeared. "shall we go to the park and kick a football?" mary offered, mason nodding happily before he ran off to grab his shoes at her request.

"you are unbelievable."

you sat on a picnic blanket watching on with your arms crossed as your wife tried any and every way she could to sway masons mind.

"isn't this more fun?" mary cheered as she softly kicked the ball toward mason, makeshift goal set up using a few sticks to mark the posts as he shook his head, refusing to even move and try to stop it as it rolled past him.

"i wanna kick it!" he huffed, stamping his feet and flaring his nostrils, alerting you he was dangerously close to a meltdown. "mary!" you called out, raising your eyebrows as she waved you off.

"you do kick it! but only if you stop it, like i showed you before. try again!" she raced over to grab the ball, pausing to re-tie masons hair which had slipped out of the loose bun it was tied back into given the amount of times he'd furiously shaken his head at her.

you sighed with a shake of your own head, flopping down onto your back and closing your eyes, the warm rays of an impending sunset bathing your face. "yeah! like that." mary cheered as mason stopped the ball, but not before he kicked it hard as he could in the other direction and raced over toward you.

you grunted as he landed on top of you, tucking his head into your neck. "mama won't let me kick." he mumbled as you moved a hand to rub his back, sitting up and shooting your wife a stern look as she huffed and kicked at the ground like a scolded child.

"okay, sit up for me please mase." you gently pulled him away from you, setting him down to sit in your lap as he looked up at you with a frown. "don't do that, if the wind changes your face gets stuck like that forever!" you teased, smoothing out his eyebrows with your thumbs.

"can you do something for me?" he nodded at your words and you glanced over his shoulder to see mary lost in thought, staring away into the distance with a troubled look on her face. "you know how we go and watch mama play football yeah? in the big stadiums." he nodded again.

"well mama is a goal keeper. so strikers are like her bad guy, like how all superheros have a villian." you started. "like batman and riddler?" you now nodded at your sons words.

"but only when she's playing! its like pretend, all a big game. like when aunty lessi kicks the ball at mama and tries to get it in the goal? mama and aunty lessi are still best friends after the game right?" he nodded again.

"so why don't you ask mama if she'll take turns with you? you be the striker and then it's her turn, but you can't let her score when she's striker! otherwise the bad guys win." you smirked, tickling at his sides as he giggled but nodded, jumping off and running back toward mary.

you watched on as mary squatted down beside your son, holding his hands as the boy did his best to recount what you'd just told him, the smile returning to her face as she nodded happily at his words.

you knew this was only the start of a very long battle, knowing your wife well enough that this was only a band aid solution to the inevitability she would do anything in her power to have mason earps be the next big goal keeping name.

you laid back down in the sun grabbing your wifes sunglasses where they sat on the ground and slipping them on, the sounds of your families laughter causing a soft smile to curl onto your lips.

however your lack of watching had meant you'd missed mary call over your son and whisper something in his ear, the two of them growing bored of football and advancing toward you. "get her!" your eyes shot open at that as you pushed the sunglasses up onto your head just in time to see mason jump on top of you, mary following suit.

"no! no no no please." you begged as both your wife and sons fingers jabbed into your sides, your body thrashing as mary held you down with a grin, your laughter filling the air as masons own little giggles joined in.

"manchester is saved mase, bad guy defeated!" mary high fived the blonde as the two of them finally ceased their attack, mason running off to kick the ball as you struggled to catch your breath.

"never gets old." mary grinned cheekily, hovering over you and sweetly pecking your lips a few times as you shook your head and flipped her off, still trying to recover.

"just you wait till i call less and let her know her godsons choosing to follow in her footsteps instead of his own mothers!" you teased once you could speak again. "don't you dare." mary warned as she sat beside you, a beat of silence falling between you before you grabbed your phone and jumped to your feet.

"traitor! get her mason!" mary yelled after you as your son dropped the football in his hands and chased after you with a grin, mary quickly packing everything up into a bag.

"mama!" she glanced up as mason gestured toward you as you darted past her, mary easily grabbing you by the waist and tossing you over her shoulder.

"mary!" you laughed, smacking her back as she slung the bag over her free shoulder, taking masons hand as you shook your head, accepting the fact you were being carried home.

"manchester is saved once again!"

#mary earps x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #mary earps #woso

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updownlately · 1 year

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make me yours my love (cause you’re nobody to me, yet somebody to me)

| alessia russo x reader | fluff (tooth-rotting fluff) | 4.5k | a/n: heard a song from another language, got obsessed with it, translated it to english, and wrote a fic. ended up losing the plot half way through and bs-ed the rest over the course of a week. anyways, i hate it, here you go.

~~~

You had never thought you’d leave North America. It was where you grew up. Where you’d had your best and worst times. It was home.

And when you had moved to Seattle from Vancouver to join the OL Reign, you thought that playing in the NWSL would be your greatest achievement, never expecting anything outrageous to occur, never daring to entertain the idea that you would ever venture any farther away from home. Thus, you clearly didn’t account for your hard work to actually pay off and for you to attract the attention of European clubs with the likes of Manchester City, Aston Villa, or Manchester United.

Even with your hesitance on leaving the continent, you had accepted United's offer almost as soon as it had come through, only waiting to double check with Sue and Megan on what their thoughts were. Of course the two women you saw as parental figures had freaked out on your behalf. They didn’t need to say it verbally but with the way they supported you as you virtually signed the contract and got ready to move showed you how incredibly proud they were of you for not only continuing to rise to a higher level in your career, but for pushing yourself out of your comfort zone.

But when the offer to extend your single year contract into a three year came, however, it wasn’t Sue, Megan, or anyone else back home who played a role in your decision. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly as some of the training staff would say, it was your United teammates that unknowingly convinced you to stay.

In the single year you had spent with them, they had welcomed you with open arms, taking you in as one of their own.

Zelem and Mary had become your unofficial team moms, making sure you never got into too much trouble whilst Tooney, Millie, Leah, and the other girls had practically become your sisters. And of course, you had Alessia. Sweet, clumsy, back heel queen Alessia had become one of your closest friends in the new city, her being one of the only few people your introverted self had felt fully comfortable around.

You never understood why or how you were able to so quickly feel so relaxed around the tall girl, you typically being quite shy and reserved with new people, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

Moving countries, much less continents, was never easy, but with Alessia beside you since day one, it had never been too difficult.

Since the day that you had awkwardly waved hi to the United girls and attended your first official WSL practice, Alessia hadn’t left your side once. In fact, within the first few weeks of you being in England, the rest of the girls had established that wherever Alessia was, you were and vice versa, one rarely being found without the other.

Through the homesickness, loneliness, anxiety, and at one point, even depression, she had been there next to you. Be it picking you up and dropping you off from practice, bringing over home cooked meals, or tours around the city, she’d been your rock as you struggled but finally adjusted to being alone again.

And when city tours turned into trying new restaurants together and her dropping off home cooked meals led to bi-weekly movie nights with Alessia’s heavenly dinners or take out, you both never acknowledged how much you cared for each other. Really though, you didn’t have to. A blind person could feel the love that you both radiated for each other.

It was spoken through the way Alessia had become less clumsy over the months, with you now there to catch her. To pull her aside before she could crash into a defensive training dummy. To ensure that her laces were tied and she was aware every time the ground was raised or there was a kerb to watch out for.

Alessia told you she cared when she’d hold you tightly against her chest, after every hard game, practice, or just day. The height difference between your 5’3'' and her 5’9'' was near comical but neither of you minded. If anything, in your opinion, it just made the hugs better since you could bury your face in her neck and block out the world for a few minutes. If Alessia minded, she surely didn’t say a word to you. You didn’t know it but if Alessia was completely honest to herself, she truly loved when you’d hug her. She absolutely adored the way you’d hide your face as you’d hug her, you standing on your tiptoes to comfortably rest your head in the crook of her neck, letting only her see you break, trusting her so easily, warming her heart each time.

You’d whisper the depths of your care when you’d let her lean on you during your movie nights, carding your fingers through her hair when you knew she was on the brink of sleep. In the way you’d slowly manoeuvre both yourself and her into a more comfortable position, her often ending up curled up on top of you, not that you minded at all, welcoming her warmth. How you’d ignore the inevitable stiff neck you would always wake up with since you’d always watch movies in the living room. In your eyes, the pain was always going to be worth seeing the blonde hugging you tightly whilst she slept on your chest.

The star striker would whisper her care ever so softly, staying on call with you during the nights where you missed Seattle a bit too much. When she’d bring you your favourite coffee the next morning, knowing that you’d be tired from your mind running the night before. When she’d drive you to practise, putting on your favourite playlists for the fatigue ridden ride, without you so much as having to ask, her knowing you almost as well as she knew herself.

You both had eventually become so close that even Tooney joked that she should move out and retire from being Alessia's best friend now that you were here for the title. You had simply laughed in response, knowing that at the end of the day, at the end of the month, at the end of the season, even though she was just your teammate at United, she was also simply your favourite person in Manchester (and possibly England, and maybe, just maybe, even in the whole world).

You weren’t someone to really believe in love, having had to witness almost every romantic relationship around you crash and burn, save for Binoe (bless them). So when Alessia clumsily toppled into your life, you didn’t expect that she’d make a home in the cracks of your broken heart. You didn’t expect for her to line the streets of your heart with cosy buildings of every delightful colour known to mankind. You didn’t expect for your heart to flutter like a butterfly each time she was near, the euphoria of having her close nearly causing your feet to grow wings, placing you on cloud nine.

She had your heart and you had no idea when she had taken or how she had taken it, but she had. The way her eyes would crinkle as she laughed had wrapped its threads around your soul. The way she’d have to lean down to hug most of her teammates, you included, and she’d never complain, doing so without being asked, restored your faith in the world. The way her smile would rival the warmth and brightness of the morning sun on your worst days had you smiling softly by yourself as you couldn’t help but stare at her, the only star that you would gladly let damage your eyesight.

While to everyone else she was just your teammate and friend, to you she was so much more. She wasn’t yours but she was something to you, somebody to you, and you hoped to god that you’d never lose her.

It’s funny looking back at when you first realised you were in love with the blonde. It had taken you almost half a year to register that you wanted more than a friendly relationship with her. You remember the exact moment so vividly, having replayed it over and over again in your mind as you lay on your bed, gently begging whatever higher deity existed to make your dreams a reality.

You both, as well as the rest of the team, had just finished a gruelling late training session and Alessia had somehow managed to convince you to let her come around so both of you could make pasta from scratch. You were unbearably tired, not having slept well the night before and the request to postpone the plan was on the tip of your tongue. However, you had made the mistake of looking up from your training bag and right into the bright blue eyes of the taller girl just as you were about to say no, and instead, you (embarrassingly easily, might you add) were persuaded to do nothing but hum in agreement to Alessia’s request.

So once she had picked up the necessary ingredients whilst you waited, trying and failing to nap in the car, and you both had made it to your flat, she had begun flitting around your kitchen, already at home in your house.

You were sitting on the counter, banned from helping due to your tiredness, contentedly watching the partially-Italian woman as she stirred the pasta sauce she had made, that the thought of this scene being ever-present for the rest of your life had briefly crossed your mind. However, you had waved it off at that time, blaming the exhaustion in your bones for your delusional feelings. It had worked and you had forgotten about your yearning for a few seconds, until Alessia had switched the stove off, turned to you, and had taken in your drowsy appearance.

Wordlessly, she had bridged the gap of a few feet between you and gently pulled you towards the edge of the island, pushing apart your legs and bringing her arms to gently wrap around your midsection. It was as she slotted herself perfectly in the space she had created, nudging your head to rest comfortably in the crook of her neck, that you inhaled a deep sigh and let yourself relax, sinking into the hug. As your mind finally began to slow down, the circles Alessia was rubbing on your back calming you quickly, the whole situation hit you.

Here you were, in the arms of your best friend, after she had just finished cooking you dinner, and was holding you so gently, reading you like a book, providing you with the comfort you needed to finally rest. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Alessia was currently peak girlfriend material - hell even possibly wifey material. Tired and relaxed, this time when the thought of being the only one who Alessia would treat so perfectly like this for the rest of her life came across your heart, you let it warm you, indulging in the loveliness of being cared for.

You had known then, that the blonde irrevocably had your heart, and you were helpless to do anything about it. You were nothing but putty in her hands, your fate lying in hers.

From that point on, you had made it your goal to love Alessia the best you could, regardless of whether she loved you back or not.

As days and months went on, you two got even closer, if that was even possible. If you had thought that both of you were close before, the present put the past to incredulous shame. Your morning routine now definitively consisted of picking up Alessia before morning training and other team events and driving the proud ‘passenger princess’, as you liked to call her, to grab breakfast and head to practice, Tooney joining you two once in a blue moon. Bi-weekly movie nights had become weekly occurrences, and her dropping off home cooked meals turned into you both cooking together in your tiny kitchen most nights.

Telling Alessia you had extended your contract had been one of your favourite moments of the postseason. With her due to play for United another two years too (totally not a deciding factor in your renewal at all), the idea of her getting to spend the remainder of her contract playing not only with Tooney, Mary, and many of the other close friends she’d made, but with you as well excited her unfathomably. The blonde hadn’t stopped smiling for a week straight, and you had a feeling that if she had gone even a single day longer than she had, her face would’ve frozen with her blinding smile stuck permanently.

You knew then, you were a goner for her, for that smile, for the comfort she gave you, her hugs that healed you. You knew you’d give her all of you without taking anything in return, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care either. You’d give her the world if she asked, all it would take for you to do so is her saying the words, no qualms on your end. You knew that be it as a friend or a lover, you wanted to be the cause of her smiles, her laughs at everything stupid, and the reason her eyes would sparkle with joy. You knew that you wanted her, you just didn’t know she wanted you too.

So caught up in your own head, in your own yearning for the taller girl, you never noticed the longing stares or the blush that would coat her cheeks each time you were near. You never questioned why she’d hug you significantly longer than anyone else, even Tooney or her own mother. You completely, almost idiotically obliviously missed the way she’d go out of her way to make you comfortable, how she had made it her priority as much as you had made it to ensure that her smile would stay.

The two of you danced around each other for months without knowing, two threads dangling from the sky, tangling so effortlessly, yet making no move to separate. You two were bound together unknowingly, without a title, without it being something, without a label. You both were each other's nobody’s, the “no-one special”, yet both of you were silently craving to be each other’s somebody. All you needed really was for the other to make you theirs, the pair of you too scared to accidentally overstep and risk losing the other completely.

At the end, it only took the two of you just over a year and a half before the two of you made any move towards dating.

It was a chilly mid February day. You had gotten injured that morning, hurting your ankle quite severely and Alessia had so graciously offered to crash with you for a few nights to help you out. You had once again, familiarly, found yourself situated by your island, slumped on the counter, painkillers from the hospital coursing you through your veins, as Alessia cooked for you.

While the sight had become more common to you over the past handful of months, it never got old. The way she’d (for once) gracefully move around, opening your cabinets and rummaging through your pantry and fridge with familiarity and ease, in her element, swaying gently to yours and hers shared playlist you had playing on your speaker. The way her hair was tied back yet a few strands always seemed to spill through, framing her face perfectly. How the heat from the stoves had her cheeks tinted, ever so slightly strawberry red. How absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous she looked bathed in the soft golden lighting of your house, a house that turned into a home whenever she was there.

This time, instead of shying away from watching her as you usually would, you let yourself indulge, eyes tracing the way her arms would flex as she chopped the necessary ingredients, as she used the bench scraper to toss everything into the sizzling pan. You admired the way your old oversized hoodie fit her absolutely perfectly, your last name sitting prettily on her back, as if that sweatshirt was meant to be hers.

You’d been so caught up in your unabashed staring that you didn’t realise Alessia had turned to face you, ladle in hand, the other on her hip, a single eyebrow raised in amusement.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” she teased.

“Definitely did. Something about dinner and it being ready?” You jested, hoping that your obvious guess was at least somewhat close.

“You’re lucky you’re attractive, and half a decent defender…otherwise I wouldn’t be cooking for you y’know.” The way Alessia smirked as your cheeks heated up told you that the striker knew exactly what she was doing, winking at you before laughing and turning around. “Anyways, like I was saying, the doc said you’re probably going to feel really drowsy once the meds wear off, though the pain should definitely be gone. I’m thinking once dinner’s done, we can just go crash in your room, put on a movie or something so I don’t have to carry you around when you knock out? I’m clumsy enough on my own, I don’t need to be holding another person to test it,” she continued.

“Good with me. Plus, at least you’re self-aware enough to know that you are a walking Bambi. It’s honestly a miracle that you aren’t constantly wrapped in bubble wrap at this point.”

“Okay just for that comment, I’m picking the movie and I’m not giving you my hoodie.”

“That’s not fair, I’m drugged up right now. If anything, that’s abuse. You’re torturing a helpless individual,” you mumble as you lay your head on the cool surface of the island.

“Definitely torturing you by cooking you supper and not giving you my hoodie… and as I let you rest since you’re injured and doped up, right?” You could only groan in response to her logic, pouting at not being able to come up with a response.

As Alessia continued to move around your kitchen, finishing up on dinner and plating the food, you went back to observing her. You studied the way she tried the stir fry, taking a bite before scrunching her face adorably and adding more ingredients to fix whatever she thought was lacking. You watched her as she finally decided everything was ready, as she sweetly plated food for you first, handing it to you, before doing so for herself. You smiled, fascinated with the way her body moved as grabbed waters for the both of you, entranced by the ease in her movement.

You were distracted throughout the whole dinner, mumbling responses, missing questions. You blamed it on the medications and fatigue when the forward beside you asked if you were okay, but in actuality your mind couldn’t help but constantly wander to imagining what it would be like if this was your life. If dinners with Alessia could be your future. If movie nights in your bed, you in her hoodie could be a regular occurrence. You knew you’d thought it before, the ideas were nothing new to you, but you had never craved it this bad before, never wanted it more than right now.

You’d been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Alessia grabbing your dishes or her own, nor her loading the dishwasher. It was only when she had stepped in front of you that you snapped out of your reverie.

“You sure you’re okay? You seem really out of it…you know I’ve got you right?”

When you fail to meet her eyes immediately, she cradles your face in her hands, one on either side of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet her eyes. Her worried eyes scan your face and then the rest of your body, trying to pinpoint something, anything that could have been the cause of your dip in mood.

“Seriously, what’s going on? You were fine just a little while ago. Is it your ankle? Is the pain back? The doctor said the medication would wear off around midnight but if it’s wearing off right now we can call the hospi-”

Shaking your head amusedly at her worried rambling, you cut her off before she forgot how to breathe. “Less I’m fine.”

“Bull. You haven’t said more than 5 words ever since I asked about watching a movie. Oh my gosh, is this about how I said I’m picking the movie? ‘Cause if so, you can totally pick, I swear. I was just teasing. And… and of course you can have my hoodie too. I promise I was just joking. I didn’t mean t-”

“Alessia,” you stated firmly, a slight frown returning to your face when it was her who now couldn’t look at you.

Sensing her anxiety, you reach out for the blonde, hands finding home on her hips, squeezing gently, just enough to get her to finally stop scanning your body for injuries and instead look at you.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just been thinking, that’s all.”

“About? What’s got you so distracted? If it’s the injury, we both know you’ll be back in no time. I don’t mind sticking around to help around while you’re recovering. I’d be happy to help you know? I don’t mind. Plus-”

“Less, it’s not the injury. I don’t care about the recovery. I’ve already accepted that I won’t be playing for a few weeks. Stop worrying, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal, yeah right…” she scoffs, her hands moving to your shoulders. “Are you actually not going to tell me what’s going on? What’s bothering you? Was it something I did? Is that why you’re not telling me? If I messed up I’ll fix it okay? I'd rather fix it than lose you. Please. Please tell me what’s going on so I can fix it.”

It was in the next few moments that you contemplated whether it would be worth it. Whether potentially destroying your friendship with the blonde that you’ve been in love with since you met her over a year and half ago would be worth the risk of telling her and outing yourself. You considered pretending everything was fine, to make up some excuse using your newly acquired injury or something about the fans and the pressure, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t lie to her. You couldn’t be dishonest. Not when you looked up and saw the care and concern etched in her face, wrinkles scattered across, creases from distress that you had caused.

You figured that if anything, if, no when, when she told you she didn’t feel the same, you could take the next few weeks you had off for healing and rehab to get over her. It wouldn’t be so bad right? You could take those three weeks to heal your ankle and your heart, and then you could go back to being Alessia’s best friend again.

“Hey, I promise I won’t judge alright? Whatever it is, it’s safe with me, I swear on football,” came the gentle voice from the girl towering above you.

You waited a second before looking up, taking a deep sigh in, revelling in the peace before the chaos that you knew was going to come after. Looking in her eyes, you audibly swallowed, before closing your own.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for ages now, and it’s killing me. It’s killing me to see you in my kitchen, at my house, making it a home. It’s killing me to have you cuddle into me when I know I can’t pull you closer at every chance. It’s physically breaking me when I can’t walk up to you in my kitchen and kiss you to thank you for cooking for me, for taking care of me. It’s hurting me when I know that there’s probably going to come a day where you find someone else and I’m left here with your ghost. It terrifies me that I’m nobody to you but you’re somebody to me.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence and you pray to whatever God existed that she couldn’t hear your heart quietly cracking too.

When a minute passes in complete silence, and then another, you dare to open your eyes. Taking a shaky breath in, you don’t know what to make of the sight in front of you. There, Alessia stands, in all her glory, your hands still on her hips, her head tilted back, eyes glazed over, on the verge of tears.

Your heart’s breaking further with each second that passes and you mentally prepare yourself for the rejection that’s incoming.

“Please say something. Please…”

A beat passes. Then two, before Alessia finally looks back down at you, a lone tear falling from her eyes, one that she quickly wipes away, a smile on her face. “Took you long enough to catch up.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The possibility of your dreams becoming a reality never seemed plausible to you. “Less, don't play. Please,” you beg.

“You were never nobody to me idiot. You weren’t ever nothing to me. You’ve been somebody to me since I met you y’know? You’ve had my heart since you walked onto the training pitch, looking like a lost kid.”

“Honest?” You asked, just to make sure you weren’t hearing things, that she actually liked you back, that you weren’t dreaming. When Alessia nodded in return, you couldn’t help but smile, your grin stretching from ear to ear.

Wiping the few tears that had made their way down your face, you moved your hands to wrap around the other girl, pulling her close to you, hugging her tightly. You tucked your head into the chest, her arms wrapping around your neck, your beaming smile hidden in the cloth of her sweatshirt.

“Let me make you mine? Go on a date with me?” The blonde quietly asked, kissing the top of your head.

This time, it was your turn to nod. You did so energetically, practically vibrating with happiness, twin grins adorning both yours and Alessia’s face.

You couldn’t ever fathom the idea of leaving Canada as a child, yet now, all grown up, on your own, you’d never been more glad you had left. That you had allowed yourself the opportunity to find a new home, one that you found here, in the arms of Alessia Russo.

You’d spent months thinking you weren’t anybody to her, and now? Now you knew you were somebody to her. That you weren’t alone this whole time. That she wanted to make you hers all along.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #fluff #x reader #reader insert #my writing #fic #mmyml #alessia russo

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lionesses-lover · 1 year

Text

Falling for a Mystery - A. Russo

The one where you don’t know who she is but when you find out it’s even better than you imagined.

Word count: 3.2k

Love had never come easily to you. After a string of bad relationships in your late teenage years that didn’t last very long you decided to stop looking for love, and wait for it to come to you. But it’s been 3 years since that day, and you’re now 24 with no love interests.

So, when Millie Turner ambushed you one afternoon in your office, showing you a new dating app she’d discovered, you stupidly let her set up a profile for you. Being the media manager of Manchester United Women’s team meant that you had made some wonderful friends, but sometimes they had some not-so-wonderful ideas. This was one of them.

———

It had been a few weeks since Millie had set up a profile for you and you hadn’t had much attention. You’d allowed yourself to dream of finding your soulmate for precisely 3 days, before realising that you weren’t going to find anyone on this ridiculous app and ignoring it until now. You decided to tell Millie you were going to delete it tomorrow.

However, just as you were about to go to bed, you got a notification.

Unknown has messaged you.

That was another stupid thing about this app. It was completely anonymous. So you were expected to talk to a complete stranger and see if you had a ‘connection’ as Millie had described it. Despite this idiotic method of romance, you found yourself clicking on the notification, eager to see who had messaged you.

Message from: Unknown

hey how’s your day going?

You smiled to yourself before replying quickly. Sometimes life gives you small signs and you were a big believer in the universe having a plan for you, so you decided to take this message as a sign not to delete the app. You let yourself get swept into conversation with the stranger on your phone.

The conversation was nice and the girl seemed very sweet. The two of you chatted about your hobbies and soon discovered that you were both football crazy, living in Manchester, and had both been single for a while. She was wonderful.

After chatting for about 30 minutes you realised you needed to go to sleep or you would risk being late to work the next day. Saying goodnight to your mystery girl, you shut your phone off and went to sleep, smiling softly to yourself.

———

A few days later you walked into the Manchester United training building with a new skip in your step. You were feeling more confident in yourself and were looking forward to another day in your dream job. You were feeling wonderful until you turned the corner, then you suddenly found yourself crashing into a body and falling over onto the floor.

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the person said.

You looked up, before chuckling to yourself. It was Alessia Russo, the clumsiest person alive. Of course she was responsible for knocking you over.

“It’s fine Alessia, don’t worry about it,” you smiled as she helped you stand up, making sure you didn’t have any bruises or marks on you.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, despite having just been told it was fine, “I shouldn’t have been distracted.”

“I’m really okay, it’s not your fault for being distracted, you have a big game tomorrow.”

“Yeah… the game,” she stuttered, looking into your kind eyes.

“Well,” you said awkwardly, breaking the intense eye contact you were sharing with the blonde, “I should probably go and start work but I’ll see you out on the training pitch.”

“Yeah, see you later y/n,” she said, smiling at you.

As you walked away you couldn’t stop yourself from turning around to watch her. You had always admired the blonde. Her beautiful hair and her perfect eyes had always been your weakness, especially when you first started working at the club.

However, not long after you admitted to yourself that you might have a crush on her, you overheard Millie and Ella chatting to her about a date she had been on earlier that week. So, your crush stayed only as a crush.

———

Later that day, you were sitting in your office editing some photos of today’s training session when your phone lit up with another notification from your mystery girl.

Message from: Unknown

what are you doing this tomorrow?

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself. What did this mean? Was she trying to ask you out? Or was she just being friendly and carrying on the conversation? But, before you could continue to overthink and eventually reply, you were interrupted.

“What’s got you smiling like that?”

You jumped slightly, before looking up and seeing Millie grinning at you, before lunging for your phone, desperately trying to see the cause of your smile.

“Nothing,” you insisted, trying to stop her from grabbing your phone. However, you were unsuccessful. Before you knew it your hands were empty and you were staring in horror as Millie scrolled through your messages with the mystery girl, the smirk on her face getting wider every second.

“I knew you’d like this app,” she finally said, still smirking at you, silently congratulating herself for setting you up on it, “I’m not going to lie I thought you were head over heels for Lessi, but apparently someone else has stolen your heart.”

“Alessia has a girlfriend, I only liked her for a few weeks,” you answered, knowing there was no point in attempting to deny Millie’s suspicions. You hadn’t been subtle when it came to watching Alessia at training, taking extra care of the photos and videos with her in.

“What? Less doesn’t have a girlfriend, what are you talking about?” replying Millie, suddenly looking very confused.

“I always hear you guys talking about the dates she’s been on,” you answered, “I just assumed that meant she was seeing someone.”

“Alessia goes on dates every once in a while but she hasn’t seriously dated anyone since her ex back in college,” explained Millie, “she’s a hopeless romantic like you so she doesn’t get to the second date stage often because the other girl decides she’s too clingy. But she’s really just eager to make sure this person is the right one for her.”

“Oh,” you replied quietly, unsure of how to react to this news. Alessia was single, and a hopeless romantic, just like you.

“What are you going to reply to this girl?” Millie suddenly asked, her eyes having returned back to your phone screen.

“Um I’m not sure, I’m busy tomorrow with the pre-match media from 2 till 4 for the game tomorrow, and then obviously I’m going to stay and watch it so I’m not free until about 6:30,” you answered, “but I’m not doing post-match media so maybe I’d be able to meet her for dinner. But I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well what if something goes wrong? It’s been 3 years since I was in a relationship, I’m not sure I remember what to do,” you said nervously.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Millie responded softly, “she seems lovely, you shouldn’t close yourself off to love.”

Taking a deep sign, you thought about it. On the one hand, you head was currently listing all of the possible disasters that could occur, such as you arriving there and the mystery girl was actually a gross old man in his 70s. But on the other hand your heart was doing flips at the ides of finally meeting the mystery girl who had you obsessed with her without ever meeting her or hearing her voice.

Finally you said suddenly getting a rush of confidence, “alright, I’ll reply to her.”

And you did.

Message to: Unknown

I’m at work until about 6:30, fancy getting dinner at about 7:30?

You soon got a reply from your mystery girl, agreeing with the plan and suggesting a restaurant - it was a new Italian place that had just opened, coincidentally it was only a 10 minute drive away from the stadium.

Smiling to yourself, you quickly showed Millie the response before kicking her out off your office so she couldn’t rapidly question you about how you were going to dress or what you were going to say.

———

The next day all you were thinking about was your mystery girl. You woke up, got ready for work and then started to pack your outfit for later, putting it in your bag so you could change after the match before going to the restaurant. Then, your mind started wondering. You imagined what she was like, you daydreamed about what she looked like. You hoped she liked you.

You managed to get through your pre-match media duties very quickly, sharing a few laughs with Ella Toone in an interview, and before you knew it the match was kicking off. It was quite even for most of the first half, as Aston Villa were a strong team, but soon enough the one and only Alessia Russo had been passed a lovely ball from Ona and was able to head it into the back of the net.

The crowd went wild.

She was a hugely popular player and seeing her score made your heart leap with excitement, especially because you got to watch her in every training session so you knew how hard she worked and how much she deserved this important goal.

As the game continued you found it hard to stop yourself from looking at your watch. It was almost am hour and a half until you were meeting your mystery girl. There were only 10 minutes until full time and Manchester United were 3-0 up, with Leah Galton and Vilde Bøe Risa also scoring.

However, just as you thought the game was ending, you found yourself on the edge of you seat, before rising quickly to cheer at the top of your lungs. She had done it again. Ella had spotted Alessia’s run and quickly passed to her, leaving Alessia a perfect shot at goal, which she was never going to miss. 4-0 to United, 2 goals for the superstar striker.

It was the perfect end to the match, and you hoped the day would only continue to get better, as you quickly headed to your office in the stadium after instructing the media team who to interview for a post match exclusive, making sure they knew to grab Alessia for a chat.

You quickly got changed and freshened up your hair and makeup before checking the time. The match had finished slightly later than expected due to 8 minutes of added time at the end of the first half and a further 5 minutes at the end of the second half, so it was currently 7:09pm, meaning you had 20 minutes to find your car and drive to the restaurant. You should be fine, you just prayed that the post match traffic would be kind to you as you desperately hoped to make a good first impression on your mystery girl.

———

Luck appeared to be on your side, because the traffic around the stadium was miraculously easy and you managed to find a parking space opposite the restaurant, so you were standing outside the entrance waiting for your mystery girl at 7:28pm. The pair of you had agreed to meet outside the restaurant where she had made a reservation, as it appeared she wasn’t keen on sharing her identity and giving you the name of the reservation just yet.

Soon enough, the time on your watch was 7:30 and you were feeling more and more apprehensive. You looked around for a sign, you weren’t sure who you were looking for but you looked anyway.

Then it was 7:37. You were beginning to feel a bit embarrassed. Maybe she decided not to come. But you soon distracted yourself, assuming she was just running late, and you started to review the post-match interviews you had been sent by your colleagues on the media team.

7:38

7:39

7:40

7:41

7:42

You felt stupid now. What if she saw you and walked away? What if she decided she didn’t want to meet you? Were you not good enough for love?

You quickly opened the dating app on your phone to check if your mystery girl had messaged you to explain her lateness or to cancel on you. But before you could check, you were interrupted by a voice.

“y/n?”

You looked up and were met with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes ever.

“Alessia? What are you doing here?”

“I’m meeting someone, I’m actually 12 minutes late, have you seen a girl waiting outside here?” she said hurriedly, blissfully unaware of the panic that had overtaken your face as you slowly began to piece together what was happening.

Alessia.

She was the mystery girl.

“Alessia,” you slowly asked, unsure of how to approach this, “did you meet this girl on an anonymous dating site?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, running a hand nervously through her freshly washed hair, “how do you know that?”

“Um,” you replied, taking a deep breath before confessing what you had figured out seconds ago, “I’m the girl, I think, unless we both met someone on an anonymous dating site and agreed to meet here at 7:30.”

“Oh, wow,” she said, still processing this new information about her mystery girl, “I wasn’t expecting this at all.”

“Look, it’s fine, I’ll go and we can just forget this happened,” you suggested, ignoring the feeling of your heart slowly breaking at the thought of the girl you had been falling for through a phone not returning those feelings.

“No!” she said suddenly, not wanting you to leave, “I’ve already made the reservation, why don’t we just have dinner and talk about all of this?”

“Okay,” you said hesitantly, not wanting her to feel forced into this even though your heart was doing flips at the idea of having dinner with the blonde, your old feelings for her rushing back to you , “if you’re sure that your alright with all of this.”

“Of course y/n,” she replied, smiling at you, obviously over her initial shock at discovering who you were, “it’s the least I could do for turning up here late, I was busy with post match interviews.”

“It’s fine, I asked the team to get those interviews so it’s really my fault,” you chuckled lightly before following the breathtaking girl into the restaurant, nervous but excited about what was to come.

———

You and Alessia had been enjoying some light conversation whilst snacking on some delicious bread for the past 20 minutes, but it seemed that your main meal of pasta seemed to also be brought with a change in conversation.

“So,” she said, “what were you doing on a dating app then?”

You took a deep breath, surprised at the bold question, before responding, “Well, when you’re single for a long time then your friends always want to set you up. Millie made me a profile. What about you?”

“Tooney made me a profile,” she shyly admitted, “I haven’t had the best luck with love in the past so she tried a new approach to getting me out on dates.”

“Ah,” you said, before sighing and asking the question you had been thinking of for the past few minutes, “so, how do you feel about this whole situation?”

Alessia looked at you, her beautiful eyes softening as she replied, “Honestly, I’m not complaining. I’ve always thought you were gorgeous, but I didn’t think you were into me.”

“Are you joking? Why would I not be into you, you’re breathtaking,” you laughed, deciding to just be honest and confess your feelings, “I had a bit of a crush on you when I first started at United, but I heard you talking about a date you’d been on so I assumed you were unavailable.”

“So,” she said taking a deep breath, “do you think the crush is still there?”

You grinned before saying, “yeah it’s definitely still there, I don’t think it went away.”

Smiling at you with her wonderful smile, Alessia gently reached over the table and took your hands in hers.

“I’m so happy to hear that y/n, it’s nice to know I wasn’t imagining the feelings I had being reciprocated on the app,” she said boldly.

You smiled back at her, as the pair of you continued to sit and chat, eating your food and admiring each other at the same time.

———

A few hours later you and Alessia were leaving the restaurant after a lovely night spent getting to know each other. You had discussed your hobbies, your past relationships and much more and the pair of you felt much closer than before.

As you were walking towards your car, your conversation was interrupted by your phone ringing. It was Millie.

“Hi y/n,” she said as soon as you answered the phone, “so, how was the date with Lessi?”

“How did you know it was her?”

“Me and Tooney were chatting about you both a few days ago and we put two and two together and realised you were talking to each other. We just didn’t tell you,” she said excitedly.

“That’s the smartest thing you guys have ever done,” said Alessia, leaning over to speak into your phone.

“Rude! I’m assuming the date went well then if you guys are still together,” said Millie, eager to know more.

“Bye Millie,” you said laughing, before hanging up to stop the girl from asking more questions.

By this point, the pair of you had arrived at your car, meaning that it was time to say goodbye. You turned to face Alessia, staring into her eyes and admiring the way her beautiful blonde hair fell around her shoulders.

“So,” you asked, “is there any chance we can have another date?”

Alessia dramatically pretended to think, before grinning and replying “I’d love that y/n, I’ve really enjoyed tonight, I’m sorry I never got the courage to ask you out when you first joined.”

“Well, we’ve both got the opportunity now to do something about our feelings,” you smiled.

Alessia slowly stopped smiling, appearing to be deep in thought, did she do what she wanted to do to truly show her feelings? Or did she just look forward to the next date? She decided to be bold.

“y/n,” she spoke nervously, “can I kiss you?”

“Please do,” you replied, feeling giddy at the thought of kissing the gorgeous blonde in front of you.

Slowly, Alessia stepped forward and took your cheeks in her hands, before carefully leaning forward and finally pressing her lips to yours in a magical kiss. It was soft and sweet, just like her, and was the perfect end to a perfect night.

When the pair of you pulled apart, both smiling and giggling at each other, you thought to yourself how strange it was that you had Millie and Ella to thank for this.

You never imagined you’d be thanking Millie Turner for convincing you to fall for a mystery, but now you were so happy that you had fallen for your mystery girl.

———

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #muwfc

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h0ranghaae · 5 months

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from the first hi to the first i love you, chapter I:

the first time we stayed alone (but in the crowd)

mason mount series

genre: angst, fluff, smut, comedy attempts

warnings: language

word count: 2,7k

a/n: god knows i wanted it to be a one-shot thing, but then i realized how many chapter ideas i got, so i didn't want to rush and make it look like a brief description of each timeline. please, please tell me what you think about it 🤧 all genres and warnings will depend on a chapter!! (the story starts on may, 14th, 2023)

"Babe, I'm really sorry, but they'll eat me alive if I don't finish it in time," your best friend, Sonia, says with pleading eyes, and you pout. You came to London from Manchester to spend your week off with her, but her boss had different plans. "I know, I promised you a fantastic time here, so I've figured things out for tonight."

"How so?" the interest in your voice is genuine.

"I asked Mason to take you out today, so get ready for The National Gallery, the tickets are already boug-"

"Whoa, stop talking so fast – I know you want to confuse me so I will say yes," you place both of your hands on the kitchen table to steady yourself – mentally. Sonia looks closely at you across the table, so you continue. "Firstly, my fantastic time can only be spent with my best friend, not with her husband's friend."

"But you've known each other for around three years," she scowls. "He gave you so many rides."

"When I was with you," you protest. "When your Ricky was with us. And, secondly, The National Gallery? I can admire you, sitting in front of your computer, with the same pleasure."

"No, you’re going with Mason. You need to get out. Besides, he already bought the tickets. When he’s done at the training center, he will pick you up – so you have, like, two hours to get ready."

You sigh. Sonia feels guilty for not being the best entertainer – but you never expected her to be one. Still, she comes up with the weird decision you can’t decline yourself, because then you will be the one who feels guilty. Also, you are pretty sure Mason said yes to her for the same reasons.

Mason is a nice, polite, funny guy with warm doe eyes and a perfect nose. But he is not your friend. You don’t really know how to act around him – partly because you are sure that if not for Ricky, your paths will never cross. He is from a different planet – a planet of fame, interviews on national channels, trips all around the globe, and big money. And you don’t have a rocket to visit this faraway planet.

There is another reason to avoid him like a plague, though.

You have a little – or medium-sized – crush on him and you can’t allow it to gain any control over your brain. Or your heart especially.

"Do you want me to help you with your hair?" Sonia asks you, and you narrow your eyes at her through the bathroom mirror.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" you huff, wrapping a strand of your hair around the barrel of the curling iron.

"I took a break," she rolls her eyes. "It's like you're getting ready for prom and the school heartthrob is already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. I can't miss it."

You shake your head at her giggles. "You're acting like a crazy teenager."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because you're funny!" you exclaim. "It's just Mason, and suddenly you're making a big deal out of it."

"But you're finally getting to the next level with him," Sonia raises her eyebrows, and you finally turn to face her, finished with your preparations.

"Yeah, from getting lifts anytime I'm in London to going to museums without even planning and wanting it. Besides, don't forget there is Jacob back in Manchester."

"Yeah," she rolls her eyes for the second time in less than three minutes. "When was the last time you saw him? Two weeks ago? Three? Sounds legit, for sure. Absolutely worthy."

Your weak attempt to disagree is killed with the sound of the intercom, and you're relieved you don't have to come up with delusional excuses to make your (almost) relationship with Jacob look not that bad as it is in reality.

You really like him, and you're so ready to open your heart to him – if you haven't done it already – but the local DJ (and you're wondering why this pathetic fact of him still doesn't give you an ick) is too busy, afraid, or just stupid to commit to anyone.

Or just to you. Or it's you who are just stupid.

"The heartthrob's here!" Sonia yelps, already pressing the button to let Mason in. You've never seen her move that fast. She was the worst at PE in high school.

"Oh dear God," you sigh, while putting on your jacket. Well, it's way easier to act annoyed when your knees are weak because of how nervous you are. You're right, you tell yourself, a very pale version of yourself in the mirror, it's just Mason, the old good lad Mason, and you're just making yourself crazy for nothing. At the end of the day, you really like Mason and don't want your frustration to be projected onto him.

Things with Jacob will get better, and even if Mason isn't your friend, you can still have a good time together tonight. And he can become your friend. And just the thought of it makes your heart swell.

"Hi there," you turn your head toward his gentle voice, always remembering how surprised you were the first time you heard him speak. His voice is so delicate and warm — the exact opposite of how manly he looks.

"Hi," you return his smile, letting him pull you in for a side hug.

"I didn't know you were in London until yesterday," Mason says.

"Yeah, because you weren't on my bingo card," you muse. "But the best event planner ever knows better, I suppose."

"Oh, get out already and let me work and you have fun. And don't come back earlier than after 4 hours. You know the directions, Mason, so take my bestie and go," Sonia taps on the wall next to the front door.

"Never felt more welcomed, bestie," you say, following Mason out of the apartment. And while he's standing in front of the lift, pressing the silver button, you turn to Sonia to whisper, "Text me every two minutes, so he won't think I'm some sort of hermit."

"Constant notifications can kill the vibe," she whispers back.

"What the fuck?" you make your words audible only for her. "That makes no sense."

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the metal carriage is waiting," Mason distracts you, and Sonia takes this opportunity to shut the front door of her apartment. "After you," he gestures for you to step into the lift first, and you can't help but smile at him, entering the cabin.

The doors are closed now, and you're standing extremely close to him so you can smell his cologne – magnetic and just... Delicious.

"I like your perfume," you blurt out. "Is it Tom Ford?"

He hums in agreement, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "You're lucky, I took a shower after training. Just for you."

"How thoughtful," you reply. "But if I'm really lucky today, the universe will spare me from your amazing jokes."

"Nah, you're not that lucky, sorry," and with this, your trip through eighteen floors of the building is over. "Buckle up and let's explore the art. But let me warn you," he places his hand on your shoulder in a secretive manner and whispers in your ear, "The real art is you and me, so be ready – people will stare."

"Are we late?" you ask, and Mason just shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, totally unsure. The doors of the gallery are closed, despite his several attempts to pull and push the door handles.

"It seems to be fate," Mason says with a smile. "So, Starbucks for starters?"

"Just admit you manifested it," you follow him, silently appreciating that he slowed his usual pace for you. "I doubt you ever wanted to go here."

"Yeah, that's why I picked you up at five o'clock – I knew they close at six."

"Really?!"

Mason stops and looks at you in pure disbelief, "Of course not," he huffs. "It was sarcasm," he explains, but can't suppress a giggle escaping his mouth.

"You're so unserious," now it's your turn to huff, but when he places his hand on your lower back while you cross the road at the green light, you're suddenly out of words.

Your skin burns at this spot despite two layers of clothes – not a good sign at all. But the questions that are generated in your head – oh, they're even worse. Why does he do it? To make sure you're matching his pace? Does he want you to be safe? Did Sonia ask him to do so? Do all well-mannered men do it?

Does he like you?

The disgustingly sweet coffee you both ordered at Starbucks helps you get rid of these confusing and unnecessary thoughts. Not for long, unfortunately.

"I can feel my teeth rotting at this moment," Mason moans after taking a sip from his cardboard cup. "But it's so good. Let me taste yours."

You willingly hand him your cup, and he wraps his palm around yours, positioning both of your hands higher – this simple action makes you hold your breath without even realising it.

"Wow, that was easy to get," he laughs and wraps his lips around the straw.

"Drink it already," you roll your eyes. "And I will start praying that you don’t have any contagious diseases."

He makes a face at you, swallowing the coffee like it's fish oil – or something even worse tasting. "You should have warned me – it's terrible. Right now, I'm doing my best not to stick out my tongue in disgust."

"Oh, Mason, you're so brave. Thank you for telling us your story," your hand slides out of his tender grip as you continue to walk. "For the record, mine has one syrup less than yours."

"It's what you call a difference maker."

"Stop it already, I know it's a reference to you on the pitch," you laugh. You genuinely laugh. Mason is effortlessly funny – you knew it already, but today you finally had a chance to experience it to the maximum. And he's witty too – amazing with words, and you really like the way he talks – passionately, but in a calm voice, looking straight in your eyes, following every reaction of yours.

Mason closes the distance between the two of you in one wide step and lowers his head to your level. "By the way, I don't have any diseases," his whisper causes goosebumps all over the skin of your neck and you hum in response. "For the future."

The future and you are divided by a distance, you think, while Mason and you, at least at this moment, are not.

He insisted that you have to sit not across from each other at this fancy restaurant in the heart of London, but next to each other, and you silently agree, not wanting to miss the opportunity to feel him closer. His shoulder brushes yours when he's slicing the steak, and you turn your head to him.

"Did you make the reservation months in advance or did your fame help you sneak in ahead of turn?"

Mason just smiles at you, even though he's not happy that you asked the question while he's chewing and can't respond to your words, and you raise your brow.

"I'm surprised you're not talking with your mouth full," you mock him, and he playfully rolls his eyes.

"I booked it three months in advance," he says as you thankfully nod at the waiter refilling your glass of wine. "Three months ago, I knew that May fourteenth would be marked as our first date on my wall calendar."

"Oh, that infamous Mason's wall calendar with pictures of kittens?" you half expected him to say something along those lines, something bold yet simple, but what you didn't expect was him handing you his fork with a slice of meat on it. The gesture was nice, caring, and... heartwarming?

"Kittens in flower gardens," Mason corrects you as a content smile appears on his features when you take the slice off the fork and into your mouth, chewing slowly.

The food is great, the wine is even better, and your entertainer is one of England's most eligible bachelors. Sometimes life is good.

"It's a shame you can't drink," you whine, holding Mason by his forearms, and he shows his perfect teeth, still not destroyed by the sugary coffee he had, in a wide smile.

"Let's drink when I'm on summer break?" he suggests, his hands rubbing your sides. His chocolate eyes follow yours, and you can't help but get magnetised by his soft gaze. He calls your name softly, feeling that he has to get the needed answer from you. "So, how does it sound?"

"See you on your summer break then," you lightly pat his chest and he laughs.

"What about before? You know I'm all fun even sober."

"Let's see, Mason. It's not like I have a door in my Manchester flat that leads me directly to you."

"It's changeable, though," he says, looking above your head. It feels like he's talking more to himself than to you, but you elaborate anyway.

"Changeable? Mason Mount, are you a constructor of a teleportation machine?" you ask in mock disbelief.

"Maybe so," he plays along, and you laugh. Suddenly, after five glasses of fine wine, everything Mason says sounds even funnier than before.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you mirror his motion, holding onto his waist.

"Thank you for today," your voice is muffled as you mumble into his beige bomber jacket – which smells just so amazing, enveloping you in an aroma cloud. "I really liked it."

"So did I," Mason says, and you're thankful he doesn't reject your clingiest side, never breaking the hug you dragged him into in the first place. "Pinky promise we will go out more?"

"Sure, but I'm done for today," you say. "It's a good thing you didn't drink, though – at least I have you as my personal driver back home."

"Oh, look at you," he imitates an adoring voice. "Making me feel so needed and desired."

"In high demand, yep," you confirm. "Promise me I'm your favorite passenger."

You can feel Mason pulling back from the hug so he can raise his pinky, and you shove off his hand with a smile. The dark-haired man smiles back at you, so sweet and tender – it makes your poor heart beat a hundred times faster.

"Oh my god," Sonia squeezes you in a hug as soon as you get to her apartment. "You look so happy! And... Wait a second, are you drunk?"

"Not drunk, just a little tipsy, that's all, but-"

You tell her everything, trying not to sound too excited, and Sonia, being the best friend ever, asks for every possible and impossible detail. Seizing the opportunity, you ask the same question you asked Mason in the restaurant.

"Does it matter?" Sonia asks in return. "Other things are way more important!"

"No, they're not. What if the only reason we ended up in this restaurant was that he was dumped by someone? Or did he dump someone? And here I am, just a backup plan."

"Oh, shit," Sonia breathes out, and you lift your head, your fingers stopping their random patterns on the soft material of the cushion. Well, you’re anxious now. "You're already thinking about it, aren’t you?"

You roll your eyes as she laughs, but when you stay silent, she goes on. "I’m pretty sure he’s famous and rich enough to get a reservation in four hours max. You had a wonderful evening – all kudos to me – so don’t spoil the aftertaste with your thoughts!"

"Yeah, my thoughts… Completely unnecessary as always," you laugh, raising your hands in defeat.

It was a wonderful evening, and you even want to jokingly think that this evening proves that all "bros before hoes" manifestos can be thrown out of the window, but, in reality, you can’t. Because Mason, as you thought before, is closer to becoming your bro than anything else. But at the end of the day, the distance will divide Mason and you again. You and your long-distance friend.

#mason mount scenarios #mason mount #mason mount scenario #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

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