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someonegoood · 6 months

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MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

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

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

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

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

Chelsea added to their story.

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

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

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

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

Although he never was.

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

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

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

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

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

He was too busy thinking about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—I’m alright.

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

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

—Thank you, really.

—Mase...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—I’m in it for the long game, Mount.

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

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

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

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

—Nervous about the game? —she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His number looked very good on you, he thought.

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

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

Quickly, Mason grabbed your wrist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. That was your brother.

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

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

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

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

Apparently, you've had an effect on him.

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

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

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

You took a minute to understand. —What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—You knew?

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

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

That sentence broke your brother's heart.

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

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permertesacker · 12 days

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#2425 #premier league #arsenal vs leicester city #arsenal #arsenal fc #afcedit #my gifs #bukayo saka #leandro trossard

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danleydon · 9 months

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Klopp; an era in drawings

danleydon.com

#klopp #jurgen klopp #lfc #liverpool #ynwa #liverpool fc #illustration #soccer #football #dan leydon #premier league

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raphoupix · 6 days

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Trent Alexander-Arnold - Crystal Palace v. Liverpool FC - Premier League

#trent alexander arnold #taa #liverpool fc #premier league #shirtless #football #soccer #footballers #footballer

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 9 months

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Kylian Mbappé imagine where Kylian suspects you are pregnant and you deny it but somehow he’s right fluff

Suspicions

Masterlist

A/N: Wrote this on the bus so it's probably shit but I hope you like it.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Kylian knows you better than anyone.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.4k

Warnings! Fluff, slight angst, unexpected pregnancy,

Kylian knows you.

Perhaps even better than you know yourself, he would say.

From how you prefer hot chocolate over coffee to how you always choose the window seat on airplanes, even though you're terrified of heights.

He knows you.

Lately, though, something's changed.

It all started with a hunch, a whispered in his mind, and he's been racking his brain trying to figure out what's wrong. Even going so far as to call his mom and ask her for advice. And he thinks he's got it.

Call it intuition or whatever, but Kylian knows you, and he thinks, No, he knows you're pregnant.

You're not as energetic as you usually are, seeming more fatigued than usual, with dark circles under your eyes, often taking naps during the day and struggling to stay awake in the evenings. You've been eating a lot more than usual, often craving weird food combinations, something you usually hate when he does. You've also been having trouble concentrating and remembering things, which is unusual for you.

Not to mention that your mood seems to be fluctuating, going from being extremely happy to feeling down and irritable within a short span of time. Like your emotions were on a rollercoaster ride.

All your symptoms point to pregnancy, and the likelihood catches him off guard. After all, you both have been careful, using protection. Still, he can feel it.

You're in the kitchen when he decides to approach you.

Preparing a simple dinner. Spagetti Carbonara, his favorite. You look beautiful—the way the apron cinches around your waist, accentuating your curves—curves he's sure weren't there a few weeks ago. And you have a certain glow about you.

As you glide across the kitchen to grab ingredients, Kylian watches you closely, noticing the slight scrunch of your nose as you stir the sauce. As if the smell is suddenly overwhelming. You move more slowly than usual, and every now and then, you take a break to give your lower back a little rub.

Yeah, he's sure now.

He takes a deep breath and approaches you.

His steps are slow and calculated as he tries to find the right words to say, heart pounding in his chest as he tries to predict your reaction.

"Mon amour," he whispers softly in your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Hey. Did you get bored with your game?" You ask, temporarily pausing your chopping as you lean back against him, his warm skin sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes…So I have something to ask you."He asks softly, nuzzling your neck and breathing in your scent. Curiosity piqued, you turn around to face him, looking into his eyes expectantly. His gaze is soft, intense. It makes your heart race.

"What is it?"

He takes a deep breath. "I've been thinking…" He pauses, swallows and releases a shaky breath. You frown slightly, sensing that this conversation is about to take a serious turn.

"Go on, you can tell me anything," you encourage him gently, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. He hesitates for a moment before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you pregnant?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of confirmation.

The question catches you off guard, and you stiffen for a moment, trying to process his words. "Um, no, I'm not pregnant," you respond, letting out a confused laugh. "Where did that come from?"

Kylian pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I...I don't know," he stammers, shoulders slumping slightly as he mutters. "It's just that...I noticed you've been acting different lately. You're more tired than usual, and your appetite has changed. Not to mention..." He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished as he searches for the right words. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel bad about your slight weight gain, knowing how much you've struggled with it in the past.

You roll your eyes, snorting at the simple notion he's hinting at. There's no way. "Kylian, I'm on the pill. There's no way."

He nods, still convinced he's not wrong. "Yeah, I know, but...remember that time you forgot? I just want to make sure."

You shake your head, dismissing him. "That was weeks ago, Kylian. I've had my period since then. I'm sure it's just stress or something." You reassure, turning back to resume stirring the sauce, hand gripping tight on the wooden spoon.

Usually, Kylian would drop the subject at this point, but he's sure about this. Deep in his gut, he knows. And he's never wrong about his instincts.

He takes a step closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, hating the way you tense up under his touch. "Baby, I love you. And I know you, and I know when somethings wrong, trust me." He can tell you're getting irritated by the way your eyebrows furrow and your jaw clenches. But he can't let it go. "Let's just take the test, yeah. Just to be sure."

You pause for a moment, feeling torn. But you trust him. Plus, his intuition has proven right in the past. Reluctantly, you nod, realizing that it wouldn't hurt to get checked out.

"Alright," you concede, giving him a small smile. "If it'll make you feel better."

Your hands shake as you sit on the toilet, nerves fluttering in your stomach. Kylian is standing next to you, gently rubbing your back for support, as you wait for the results.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," he murmurs, squeezing you gently. You steal a glance up at him, chocolate-brown eyes soft as he gazes down at you with concern.

"I'm scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kylian's grip tightens. "Hey, I got you. I'm not going anywhere." He reassures you, leaning down to press the gentlest kiss on your lips.

The minutes feel like hours as you wait for the result. And your hands are shaking as your knee bounces in nervousness. The timer beeps, and your world stops.

You hold your breath as you pick up the test and hand it to Kylian, the small lump in your throat now feeling like a boulder. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him flip it over with trembling hands.

He stares at the test, jaw dropping at whatever he's reading, before a wide smile spreads across his face. Then he's running toward you.

He scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around as he exclaims, "Je le savais!" before gently setting you down and dropping the test into your hands. You stare at it in disbelief, jaw dropping as your eyes well up. (I knew it!")

Two pink lines—two lines that changes everything.

You sob when it finally hits and it catches Kylian off guard. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as tears stream down your face. He doesn't say anything. Just holds you. Knowing that you don't need words right now. Just him.

He strokes your hair soothingly, whispering soothingly into your ear, his warm breath against your skin. And you cling to him. Cling to him like he's your lifeline- because right now he is.

The only thing grounding you to earth as you process this newfound information. You stand there for what feels like hours, just holding each other before you finally manage to whisper, "We're going to be parents."

Kylian gently wipes away a stray tear, voice filled with awe as he murmurs, "Yeah, you happy." not knowing how you felt based off of your reaction. His heart did backflips as he awaited your response. There's nothing he wanted more than a family with you. You're it for him. But he knows he'll stand beside you no matter what you decide.

So he schools his features, in case you choose a different path, and waits for you to speak, ready to support you in whatever decision you make.

"Yes!" You blumber, barely getting your words out as you choke on your own tears. "Y-Yes." Hiccups and sobs escape from your trembling lips.

His body sags with relief at your words before he's pulling you close once again and laying a hundred kisses all over your face."Thank you, thank you!" Tears fall from his eyes now. And he's bending down to get on his knees to lay kisses on your belly. "I love you so much. Thank you."

He stays like that for a long time, his tears soaking your shirt as he showers your belly with love.

And you know everything will be alright.

-Bianca🌻

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian imagines #kylian fanfic #kylianmbappé #kylian mbappe #footballer x reader #football #premier league

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pressure-machine · 5 months

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#jurgen klopp #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #liverpool fans #lfc #premier league #userf #*#not tk #look how happy he is to be almost done with this lmao

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judecole · 3 months

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caught on film. cp20

pairing: you x cole palmer

summery: you’re a famous retired footballers daughter and have been dating cole for a few months. the media hasn’t caught on to your relationship just yet but your appearance at the euros final in a certain players shirt causes quite the stir.

word count: 2114

authors note: idk

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

You’re not exactly sure what you did in your past life to end up here, in this beautiful grand hotel in central Berlin. Despite your luxurious lifestyle, being born with a silver spoon in your mouth and having everything you ever wanted, you never took a single thing for granted. The hotel foyer is vast and grand, great marble columns dwarfing everyone in sight and traditional historic paintings in huge gold frames hanging on every wall. It’s beautiful. You stay in these kinds of hotels regularly but they never cease to amaze you. Your family PA is checking you and your family into the hotel as the several concierges begin collecting your luggage. You smile warmly at them and thank them before the manager greets you to show you to your suites. As soon as you enter your room you lay flat out on the bed, exhausted from your day travelling. You’d been flying back and forth from the UK to Germany for the last month. Any major footballing tournaments were a big deal in your family, you’ve been to pretty much every one since you were born. You can remember being a small child, wearing a shirt with your father’s name and number on the back and feeling so proud every time he stepped on the pitch. However now, things were a bit different. Your family were now invited as special guests and given all the best treatment, a private box in the stands where members of staff would meet your every need. You did truly feel blessed and very appreciative for everything your parents had done for you and your siblings.

You pull your phone out from your trouser pocket and check for any messages. Nothing. You bite your lip and open up iMessage and clicking on Cole’s name. You had been dating Cole for about six months. Things were going very well for the two of you, your parents loved him, especially your dad who was amazed by his talent on the pitch. You’d initially met him when he played at Manchester City after being invited to watch an U21’s match. You loved his laid back style and calm manor when he was playing. You smile as you remember the first time you spoke to him, all sweaty after the game. You’d gone down with your dad to congratulate the boys on their win and chatted with them. You swear you’d fallen for him right then and there, not being able to get his stupid grin out of your head. You begin typing a message to him when your younger sister walked into your room, plopping herself next to you on the bed. “You texting Cole?” She asks, a smirk on her face. She loved to wind you up about your relationship with the football player, often saying that the pair of you made her feel sick. You roll your eyes before replying, “Yeah, I’m gonna see what he’s doing after training.” You type out the message, “I know ur probably training rn but what are u doing tonight? I wanna see youuuu.’

You place your phone down on the bed and lay back, resting your head on the soft pillows. “Are you nervous about tomorrow? I hope Cole gets to play.” Your sister says, actually not being mean or sarcastic for once. “Yeah. I hope he does too.” You hear your phone ding. Picking it up, Cole’s name flashes on the screen. ‘Defo getting an early night but i can see you in the afternoon. Love ya.’ You smile at the words. You know how serious he takes his job, but he never fails to make time for you too. You text him back quickly and lay back again, smiling. “You’re so in love with him it’s gross.” Your sister playfully hits your arm causing you to slap her back.

A few hours later you’re getting ready to head to the England Squads hotel, a little trip planned by your father’s management team that conveniently lined up with your plans to meet Cole that afternoon. Your mum comes in to your room as you’re putting on some makeup and compliments your outfit, a simple pair of jeans and a top that was sent to you by a company that no doubt cost more than a night in the hotel itself. You smile and thank her, pulling her into a gentle side hug as she kisses your head. Your mum was definitely surprised when you told her about your relationship with Cole. Given your previous dating history he would never had been your type. But there was just something about him that instantly pulled you in, you still don’t know what it was to this day but you weren’t complaining.

Arriving at the squads hotel you check your hair and makeup in a compact mirror, brushing a few stray hairs into place with your nails. Your sister rolls her eyes, something that had now become the norm and makes a comment under her breath you can’t really hear. You get out the car and are greeted by some of the staff who lead you in through the hotels modern entrance. The hotel looked more like a spa than a hotel, every piece of furniture placed exactly, in a way to promote relaxation. You follow through the entrance into a board room, filled with players, staff and other prolific footballing legends and their families. You scan the crowd, looking for Cole. It doesn’t take you long as you see your dad pulling him in for a hug and patting him on the back, obviously congratulating him on reaching the finals. You grin as lock eyes with him, quickly wrapping your arms around him. He places a kiss to the top of your head, surprising you. He wasn’t the biggest fan of PDA, even the smallest things like holding hands made him panic. Maybe it was the fact you were one of the most famous people in the world which constantly occurred to him but never to you. You noticed some eyes laying on the pair of you which made you release him. You quickly returned to your professional manner and wished him good luck before finding your mum. She nudges you and gives you a cheeky smile when you reach her. “You two are silly. Why does it matter if anyone finds out?” She says. “It’s not that. I want to be public with him but not now. I want him to focus on football and I don’t want the media circus for him right now.” You say and give her a small smile. “Well that’s very thoughtful of you but make sure you’re public before Christmas because I’m not editing him out of the Instagram pictures.” She wraps an arm round you as you approach more people and chat about the final tomorrow.

Later that night after an expensive dinner in a posh restaurant near the squads hotel, you text Cole and tell him you want to see him before he goes to bed. He replies almost immediately and you ask your driver to wait outside the hotel and that you were just going to take a quick walk. You could see his tall figure on approach which made you speed up, not wanting to waste any more time not having his arms around you. “Hey.” He says softly when you reach him, extending his arms out and enveloping you in them. “Hey.” You almost whisper. “Wanna go for a walk?” You nod your head and begin walking hand in hand. It was dark now but the city of Berlin was still bustling, what with the warm weather. You walk past busy restaurants and bars packed with what you could only assume were England fans based on the noise. Cole squeezes your hand every so often, he can feel his palms become clammy when you look up at him. He still couldn’t believe his luck. After the first time he met you he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He was glad you made the first move though, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have been in this position now. Once you reach somewhere quieter Cole lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple at the same time. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” You ask him. You almost knew what he was about to say, “Not really. You know me.” He cracks a smile.

“I hope Southgate plays you, Cold Palmer.” You joke and poke his side playfully. “Me too. Hopefully I’ll get some time.” You end up sitting on a bench overlooking a river, the hustle and bustle far behind you now. “It’s really pretty here.” You mutter. “Not as pretty as you.” He winks as you roll your eyes. You continue talking for a while before Cole regretfully tells you it’s getting late and he probably needs to head back now. He places a quick peck on your lips and stands up, offering you a hand. “I’m so excited for tomorrow. Are you gonna score a goal for me Palmer?” You tease as you approach the hotel. He shakes his head at you and smiles. When you return to the hotel entrance he turns to face you, you look up at him and he swears his heart starts beating a hundred times faster. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? I love you.” He places a soft kiss on your lips making you blush. “Good luck babe. I love you too. You’re gonna smash it.” You wave him goodbye and open the door of the car, getting in and thank your driver for waiting.

You wake up the next morning with a nervous feeling in your tummy. It sticks around for pretty much the whole day. You feel especially nervous when getting dressed. You grabbed your England shirt that you’d hung carefully in the hotel wardrobe and put it on, turning around in the mirror to see the back. You’d always wanted to wear his shirt to a game. You snap a quick picture and keep it for later, maybe to post on Instagram. You knew the absolute carnage that would take place when you did. You arrive at the Olympiastadion Berlin in your families usual fashion, through the back in all blacked out vehicles with staff waiting for you at the other end. The nerves had well and truly kicked in now. You check your phone to see if Cole had texted you. You knew he wouldn’t be nervous, very sure in himself and the team’s quality but you wanted him to text you to ease your nerves. Your dad shook the hands of the staff that greeted you and you thanked them as they took you all up to your private box. You were sharing with a few other well known people, you eagerly greeted them with big smiles.

(We all know how the game went so we’ll just leave it at that.)

A devastating loss for England. You were gutted. But also immensely proud of Cole. He’d been subbed on in the seventieth minute and scored only three minutes later. The only goal for England that game. You headed down to the pitch once everything had calmed down and spotted Cole in the stands with his family. His eyes were glassy with tears as he spoke to his dad. You approach slowly and he notices you, standing up immediately and wrapping you in a tight hug. You could hear the snapping of cameras behind you but neither of you cared in that moment. “I’m sorry baby.” You spoke quietly as you pulled away, cupping one side of his face with your hand. “You were amazing.” He sniffled slightly, trying not to cry in front of you but failing miserably as he pulled you in again. You rubbed his back reached up to kiss his cheek. His dad walked towards the both of you and pats Cole on the back before sitting with Cole’s mum. “I can’t believe we lost.” He reaches up to dry his eyes as you pout and rub his arm. You turn around slightly hearing his sister call your name. “Love your shirt.” He smirks a bit, it clearly cheering him up. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as you begin chatting with his sister.

You’re on your way back to your hotel when your phone begins to blow up. Story after story about your relationship with Cole, using the picture they clearly got when you were consoling him after the game. You save the picture, setting it as your lockscreen and then posting the picture of you in his shirt from earlier to your Instagram story.

#cole palmer #england #england nt #football #cole palmer x reader #footballer x reader #chelsea fc #chelsea #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #trent alexander arnold #premier league #euros 2024

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zoyasribbon · 11 months

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DOMESTIC DELIGHTS — r. dias

ೃ࿐ summary : The moments spent with your family, they are the most precious in your life, a pure delight that bring solace to your soul. And on this specific Sunday afternoon, this one, you are poised to savor every bit of it.

ೃ࿐ words : 0,7k.

ೃ࿐ genre : mature. fluff. suggestive.

ೃ࿐ warning : cute daughter-father moments, sexual tension.

ೃ࿐ author's note : Despite my deep disdain for Man City (while I do acknowledge Pep's genius football philosophy), I must confess—I find myself particularly attracted to some players... and a certain 6’2 Portuguese center-back has managed to steal my heart. Ugh, what can I sayyyyy, what can I sayyyyy.

You were drawn by the soft, deep chuckles emitted by your husband, guiding you towards the entrance of the living room, where you discreetly pushed the door ajar.

There he was.

Rúben.

Dressed in his black Puma sweatpants and a simple, white undershirt, he was doing push-ups with your little daughter perched on his broad, muscular back. Her cheerful, high-pitched voice counted his progress as he effortlessly raised and lowered his body multiple times. You observed them tenderly: the pure joy and trust of your child blending with Rúben's extraordinary strength and patience. Home.

If he noticed you leaning against the doorframe, he said nothing... and you couldn’t help but admire his new three-day stubble beard, a bit more developed than usual, complementing his charming face.

Suddenly, he twisted to one side, landing on the floor while effortlessly lifting your excited little girl with his sturdy arms before gently placing her on his firm stomach. A timid chuckle escaped your lips at this heartwarming sight. But this gesture didn't deter him from maintaining a somewhat intense gaze that met yours, igniting a fire within you.

"Go play in the garden, princesa. I'll do a few more and then join you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. As his words prompted her to dash out of the room, flashing you a mischievous smile in passing, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. Only Rúben's erratic breathing and the sudden accelerated beats of your heart seemed to animate the space.

He eventually raised himself from the floor, taking his sweet time to stand, his brown eyes never leaving your burning gaze for a second.

Rúben's smile took on a different shade as he crossed the room to approach you, leaving only a few brief inches between you. His arms, marked by the effort, found support on the wooden doorframe, not far from your head, asserting his dominance in height.

In the depth of his gaze, you discerned the glint of a tantalizing promise.

"You didn't have to stop, you know?" you innocently scolded, letting your right hand wander from his neck, to his left flank and to his hip. You made sure your nails lightly grazed his skin through the thin white fabric, intending for him to feel your provocation. As you did, you sensed a trickle of sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to his still-toned abs, evidence of his numerous push-ups.

In just a few seconds, his body responded. Engulfed in goosebumps that hinted at desire, Rúben's eyelids trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Though your line of sight didn't reveal it, you were certain that his fingers fervently clutched the doorframe, evidenced by the emerging veins on his glistening shoulders.

He was on the verge of losing control. The mere thought elevated the corner of your lips into a sly smile, concealing the pleasure you took in this little teasing game. You must admit, you were very in the mood to play today. After all, Rúben simply had no business being so sexy on this delightful spring afternoon.

Your right hand, still placed on his hip, dared to venture even further beneath the fabric of his black tracksuit to bring him even more closer to you and explore the skin of his lower back and his firm bottom, leading him to open his mouth slightly, letting out a timid gasp.

Unable to resist the excruciating slowness of your caresses, he leaned forward, daring “Why? Do you want to keep watching?” he managed to inquire with an innocent tone, though mischief lingered within.

His alluring, plump lips so close to yours beckoned, yet you resisted the temptation they promised... at least for the moment. You knew what he expected from you at this moment, but you just wouldn't comply. You were far too determined to win this battle.

Nevertheless, the warm breath escaping his mouth was enough to slightly distract you. In that moment, you even forgot your somewhat disheveled appearance—your hair was in a messy bun, and you still had your apron on, still warm from the breath of the oven you had opened to check the crumb-topped salmon you were preparing.

This seemed not to bother Rúben, whose gaze remained just as fiery and thirsty. His fingers sought revenge, gently sweeping aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen during your observation, trailing across your cheek, your neck, before finally resting on your nape. Then his entire hand delicately settled upon it. Your eyes were nearly completely mesmerized by the movement of his lips. Ruben's voice became huskier and smoother. “Or maybe you want a turn too."

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glossyblue · 3 months

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Sleepless Somersaults

glossyblue: Based on @megannandrewss request, hope you enjoy💗 Feel free to send your requests🩶🫶🏻

summary: you are pregnant and you can’t sleep because the baby’s doing somersaults all over your belly, so you wake kylian up.

pairing: Kylian mbappe × reader

⋆

In the quiet stillness of the night, you lie awake, your discomfort a constant companion throughout these pregnant days and sleepless nights. The moonlight casts a gentle glow on the room, illuminating your swollen belly and highlighting the ripples beneath the surface as your baby does somersaults within you. You can't help but smile at the miracle growing inside of you, but as the minutes tick by like hours, all you wish for is a moment of peace and respite. Your gaze shifts to your husband, Kylian, who slumbers peacefully beside you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that is unfamiliar to you. In your mind, you can't help but conjure the images of the intimacy you used to share before pregnancy took the reins of your life. With a sigh, you reach out a hand to lightly touch his bare back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

The slight touch sends Kylian stirring from his sleep, his eyes fluttering open as he turns to look at you. His brows furrow as he notices the dark circles under your eyes and the pained expression that you desperately try to hide. 'Is everything alright, ma chérie?' he asks, his voice thick with sleep. Your heart swells with love for this man who can sense your discomfort, even in the depths of his slumber. You draw in a deep breath, trying to steady the waver in your voice as you speak. 'All I want is a good night's sleep, Kylian. I feel like it's been ages since I've had one.' Your words betray the desperation that courses through your veins, and Kylian's face softens in response, a sympathetic smile playing at the corners of his lips. He shifts his position, pulling himself up so that he is sitting next to you. 'Well then, let's see what we can do to help,' he says, his hands reaching out to find yours and gently pulling them towards him. The warmth of his touch offers you a moment of solace, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to bask in the comfort.

With a tender smile, Kylian releases your hands and moves down to the foot of the bed. He takes one of your feet in his hands, his fingers gently kneading the soles. The pressure is gentle yet firm, and the sensation sends waves of relaxation coursing through your body. You let out a soft sigh, the tension in your muscles beginning to recede as his fingers work their magic. He continues to massage your feet, his movements slow and deliberate. You can feel the baby inside of you begin to quiet, the somersaults becoming fewer and farther between as they, too, succumb to the soothing rhythm. You allow yourself to sink deeper into the pillows, a contented smile spreading across your face as you feel the sheer exhaustion finally begin to take hold. Kylian then moves his hands up to your belly, his touch gentle yet reassuring. As he massages your bump, you can feel the baby shift inside of you, as if acknowledging the presence of their father. You let your eyes flutter closed, the feelings of love and contentment mixing with the physical relaxation brought on by Kylian's touch. As you drift off to sleep, you feel Kylian's lips brush against your cheek, a tender goodnight kiss that fills your heart with warmth. 'Dream sweet, ma chérie,' he whispers softly in your ear. And with those words, you surrender to the embrace of sleep, your body finally finding the rest it so desperately craved.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, the sun casting a warm glow on the room. You stretch your arms above your head, feeling the energy slowly returning to your body, and you smile, remembering the tender moments shared with Kylian in the stillness of the night. As you roll over, you see him, awake and watching you with a look of love and adoration in his eyes. 'Good morning, mon amour,' he says, reaching out to take your hand in his. You entwine your fingers together, a sense of gratitude and appreciation filling your heart. 'Thank you,' you whisper, your voice raspy from the deep sleep. 'For everything.' Kylian simply smiles, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans in to place a soft kiss on your forehead. In that moment, you know that no matter the sleepless nights and discomfort, you have the unwavering support and love of your partner by your side. And as your belly ripples with movement, a newfound strength and determination surges through you, a promise of the love and support that awaits the life growing within you.

------------------------------------ ᵍˡᵒˢˢʸᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ💌

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someonegoood · 6 months

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MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 3 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which after everything you gave, you're not sure if you're going to keep going. (brother’s best friends troop).

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

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 3 ! final part for my first two works, I'm proud of how it came out

taglist: @girlidekanymore @sunflower-tia @nicolesainz @chilwellspulisic @anotherfan07

inspired by taylor swift's songs.

The feeling of freshness —the wonderful smells, the damp feel of leaves falling down the trees, the breeze and the rain on your skin. The sound of rain is wonderful: not just between a hard roof and leaves, but you can hear it on different types of trees and hedges.

The flowers, which look like they were painted by Monet himself, have colours so rich that no one can even attempt to imitate them. From the smallest weed to the grandest stalk, they are all beautiful in your eyes.

Around you are your friends; some are talking or enjoying the countryside air. You had decided to take me on a little vacation before returning to the routine of the busy city of London.

No distractions, no disturbances, especially without him. After seeing how Mason smiled at that blonde standing next to him and Debbie's painful look in the boat, you knew all these years were in vain.

The moments when you took care of him after he vomited from all the alcohol he had consumed at the party, when you covered him so he could go on dates with different girls and other things you had done for him.

The last time Mason saw you still burned in the back of your mind, the little stolen glances he gave you while you were wearing a pink t-shirt, the one that you had left back in a drawer in the Mount's house. Stacey had told you the t-shirt drove him crazy.

It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t understand why nothing went your way. Was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the gulf?

—Babes, how could you ever think it's your fault? Clearly, he is out of his mind. —Clara talked. You and your friends were sitting on the porch in the extensive field that belonged to your grandparents.

Then Adelaida, who was resting her head on your lap, suddenly stood up, leaning on one elbow and said: —Please don't think it's your fault, you would be lowering yourself to his level.

Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you... even your mother. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the heartbreak that felt it was never-ending.

All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling that pulled you to another person, that proved he was the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know he wasn’t.

Even though you were angry at him, you knew that when you saw him you would act like a little girl, crazy in love.

On the other side, Mason was in the kitchen, picking at the leftover food on the tabletop as everyone else was in the living room. His mother walked into the kitchen as he took a bite of little meatballs that looked delicious and she laughed at the pieces of meat that had fallen onto the kitchen counter.

—That’s definitely not the way to eat —she smirked knowing his son wasn't the type of person to sit down and eat properly.

—But you love me anyways, mom. —Mason flashed his puppy eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. It had been a long year for Mason. He stopped turning to family events when he knew you would be there.

—Mason Tony Mount, I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself-

—Mom. —Mason sighed. —Don't start this whole speech about her, please.

—Dear, I don’t even need to say her name... it will always be her. —She smiled, sadly, as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

—She's happy, from what I heard. —he scoffed again.

—So then you know you’re being an ass, right?

Mason's eyes widened at his mother's question but she just laughed and waved him off. —After all the years she spent after you, dear, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.

That sentence shattered his heart. You weren't the little girl who ran behind him in search of attention anymore, you were a woman with maturity, feelings and beauty.

—But what if I’m not happy? —he asked his mum. Debbie felt her heart clench at his words, it was never good for a mother when they saw their son being at his lowest.

—Do you love her?

There was no answer.

—See, that would be very cruel. Mase... either you love her or you’re jealous. Just remember that she's a second daughter to me and I know her like the palm of my hand. I'm certain that she’s fragile when it comes to you.

After a week in the countryside with your friends, you were back in the city, at a party the english players were throwing in celebration of their team winning the last few games.

Every time he looks at you, it’s making him go mad. It surprises him how much influence you have on his night out. He actually believed he could handle it, seeing you after a while. Normally he’s the one who takes you to the football after-parties because you begged him like crazy. But not this time.

Did you wear a white dress on purpose tonight? He doesn’t know. You look beautiful and he wishes he had the nerve to tell you how great white looks on you. He remembers the time you almost kiss in the box, you in the white sweatshirt with his number. The guy talking to you on your right was Foden. Did you wear it for him? He doesn’t believe that, he doesn’t think he deserves that.

Mason sighs. This is one of the hardest nights in his life. He shouldn’t have messed it up. If he didn’t follow what Ben said to him, he would probably be the one talking to you. Fucking Ben.

At the same time, you don’t know what’s bothering Mason. You thought he would be coming to the afterparty with Daphne, but his friends confirmed that he forgot her quickly. He didn't even kiss her. Neither touch her.

It surprised you, you were afraid he would show up with that beautiful model. A part of you felt really happy.

You feel his eyes burning into you while you talk to Foden. You quickly take the cocktail out of Phil's hands, while thanking him in the meantime. He shrugs it off.

—What’s up with you? —He asks you after you take a few sips.

—What do you mean? —You ask him. Is he noticing your bad mood? You tried hiding it, but maybe you failed.

—You seem distracted. Did something happen? —he goes on. You take a sip of your cocktail, thinking about your response. Could it be a bad plan to tell him about Mase? They’re friends after all. But on the other hand, it would be nice to talk about it to someone.

—It’s him, isn’t it? —Foden answers his own question. You didn’t even realize you were looking at Mason until Phil spoke. You nod towards him, —Let’s go outside.

Then, you're sitting on a wooden bench outside. The white dress doesn’t give you much warmth, so you embarrassingly start to shiver. Before you can notice it, Phil drapes his jacket around your shoulders.

—Fuck... —he says, regretting. —I knew it would be a bad plan to invite you. —Mutters softly, —I thought it was a good idea to make you feel better, now I just got Mount to get angry at you.

You laughed, thinking that was very cute. —That’s not true, Phil —you try to comfort him, —you can’t help me being an idiot.

—To be fair, Mason and you are both idiots. —Foden laughs, —Definitely unaware idiots-

But before he can explain to you anything, Mason shows up in front of you.

While walking back to his car, he notices the sound of people talking outside. He thinks he’s recognizing your voice. He must be going insane, he thinks tiredly to himself. But still, he walks towards the sound. Quickly seeing you and Phil sitting together... fucking hell, why are you wearing his jacket?

Before he realizes it himself, he stands before you and his teammate Foden. The chattering stops directly, did he interrupt something? He feels awkward with you and Phil looking at him amusingly. How can he fix this awful situation?

—I uh... I wanted to say bye to you. —Mason said, ignoring the existence of Phil. —I am supposed to bring you home or will Phil...?—He stutters eventually, not wanting to finish his question.

—Wait, Mase, can we talk? —You react before Mason turns around and walks to his car in a rush. He nods.

—Of course.

The silence was sharply awkward.

—Don’t forget your jacket, Foden —Mason quickly says, —she can wear mine while we’re outside.

Phil, who no longer was sitting on the bench, laughed for a bit at his hopeless friend. Then he walks up to you, and takes his own jacket from your shoulders, while Mason quickly takes off his. You give Phil a quick hug to thank him, before getting into Mason's jacket.

—Don’t be an idiot to her —says Phil toward Mason whispering in his ear. You smile shyly, flushing with Phil's comment.

Mason doesn’t know how to watch the interaction between his friend and you. He doesn't know where to look when you turn your attention to him. The white dress quickly grabs his attention once again.

Silently, both of you walk to the parking lot where his fancy Mercedes-AMG was parked. You had always made fun of him because the car was too posh in your opinion, although every time you needed a ride home you always ended up in his car.

Firstly he took the car keys out of his pocket and then he opened your door for you. He had always been a gentleman. The situation is unexpected, yet influenced by the tension that’s been built between you two through the last couple of months.

—So, what do you want to talk about? —Mason asks you. You lasted a few seconds thinking about how to answer his question.

—Why were you ignoring me today? Why didn’t you come up to me and Phil to say hi? —You fire multiple questions at him, —did I do something wrong? Are you upset with me? —Your words cut through the thick air inside the car.

—I thought the two of you were busy with each other. —Mason mutters.

You scoff, this was unbelievable. —That’s bullshit Mase, you know I always make time for you.

—God!, I just wasn’t in the mood to see you two. —He said, elevating his tone, trying to sound casual but deep down, jealousy was gnawing at him like a relentless beast.

You don’t know what to say to Mason. You don’t even know what the boy means. He wasn’t in the mood to see you? Since when could that happen?

—Why? —You barely dare to ask him. You have no choice, so you repeat your last question —why, Mase? —Your eyes start to fill with tears.

Mason sighs, —You won’t get it.

—You don’t know that. Try me.

—I just... I just don’t like seeing you with other boys —he confessed. You doubt for a bit. Should you tell him you were relieved he showed up alone instead of coming with Daphne? You decide not.

—Oh, come on Mason! You can't say that! —You almost shout. Mason's eyes open like plates. You had never raised your voice at him like that, so angry.

—Why not? —He, as well, says almost shouting.

—Because you don't have the right! It's-it's just that you can't say that as if my feelings were so simple... —You tried to calm yourself, you could lost everything now.

—Mason, I've been with you since the beginning and you know that. I'm your biggest supporter and deep inside you know I’ll always cheer for you. I’ve spent my whole girlhood- Fuck. —Tears start scrolling down your delicate face. He looks at you as if you were graceful.

—I wanted to be with you tonight, —you eventually say after a long silence—but you looked at me as if I didn’t matter.

—I know.

You sigh. Can't the boy say anything else? You feel obligated to talk further: —Why aren’t you telling me what’s wrong?

You don't get any answer. Looking at the ceiling of the car, you try to keep your cool.

—You know what? I’m going back to the party. Call me when you can explain at least something. —You want to undo yourself from Mason's warm jacket, but he stops you directly by grabbing your arm.

—I know you deserve to know what’s going on, but I don’t want to lose you. I know it’s a shitty excuse which makes everything even more unclear, but please don’t go back inside. —Mason talks soft and fast —and please keep the jacket on.

—What’s so important about the jacket? —You ask with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

—Your dress distracts me and I don’t want to see you in anyone else’s jacket again. —This time he is direct with his words. Almost harsh. You wonder why your dress distracts him. Does he find it ugly?

—Don’t you like the dress? —You ask.

—I fucking love the dress. —Mason says. At that moment you feel something clicking. Despite his short explanation, you wonder if Mason may return your feelings.

—Just give me time. Everything is happening so fast and the fact that I'm just realizing that all these years all I've been doing is hurting you makes me go mad angry at myself. —He says, without breathing. —And... I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for everything I've done, for the countless times I've hurt you. I promise you will have a proper explanation. —He tried to smile, with tears in his eyes.

—That's the Mase I know... —You laugh lightly and Mason just stares at you, sweetly. —Now take me back home, probably my brother is already wasted.

What you didn't know is that that day Mason Mount started falling in love with you.

A few days after you were your house, sat in the cozy familiarity of the your couch while your mother flipped through the pages of a weathered photo album resting on her lap. Each turn of the page revealed a snapshot of your brother's and your past, a journey frozen in time.

—Look! You're wearing my glasses! —Said your mother, with clear emotion in her voice. She turned some pages that had photographs of your childhood: when you were born, your first tooth fell out and many more memories.

Your cheeks flushed with nostalgic warmth, a subtle testament to the innocence and joy captured in each photograph.

Among the sepia-toned memories and faded polaroids, there was a page filled with pictures where Mason and you, both still little children, intertwined in laughter playing in the park.

Your mom pinched your cheek. —Someday you will realize that everything you did was not in vain, on the contrary, it was all worth it. —She stopped to take a breath. —Because golden loves are like that. They stay with you forever.

—How beautiful, mom. —You ironized. She laughed.

—It will, darling... Come here. —And then you hugged her. You hugged her with all your might as you felt her warmth on your face. She giggled, breaking the embrace.

—You'll need a spell to make Mason realize what a fool he is.

—Mom!

A couple days later, you were back at Stamford Bridge once again. As you approach the stadium, you can feel the excitement building. The streets around the stadium eagerly anticipate the game ahead.

Inside the stadium, the dominant colour is blue. The stands are filled with supporters adorned in their team's jerseys, scarves, and signs that say "Pride of London".

—Call her Mason, I’m sure she's in the stands —said Ben, while putting on the new shirt they played in today. Mason held his cell phone, sitting on the bench in the large locker room.

Today was Valentine's Day and Mason had a game. Your brother told Mason he was going out on a date with his girlfriend but you would go in his place, as usual. He didn't know if you were coming, so Mason was nervous, especially with the talk you had in his car.

You had called Debbie in the morning, asking her if you should come to the game, and she told you that Mason would be more than happy to see you there. You wondered if he knew what you were up to if your brother had kept him in the loop.

Pick it up.

The third tone rang while Ben tried to hold Mason, about to faint from anxiety. In the background, music was blasting from the speakers while the guys on the team began gathering in the locker room for their last talk before the game started.

Reece James leaned closer, curious why his teammate was sitting with his phone in hand, bouncing his leg nervously.

—What has got Mount that nervous? I've never seen him like this —he says to Ben, seated next to Mason, fixing his shoes.

—It's his girlfriend-

—She's not my girlfriend! —Mason interrupted Chilwell, with an expression of fear. You still haven't answered him and the fact that his friends were bothering him added to his anxiety.

—Give me that shit. —Suddenly Kai Havertz appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Mason's phone and putting the call on speaker. Everyone's attention was on the tones ringing, hoping you'll pick up. The team had witnessed your situationship since Mason had joined Chelsea, so they knew you quite well.

—Hi? Mason?

Kai, standing on the bench in the centre of the room, had the phone in his hand so everyone could hear. His eyes widened and his mouth also opened, in surprise. Everyone stood up while Mason's blood pressure went down.

With a jump, Havertz handed the cell phone to his friend so he could answer you. There was a silence between your response and his because his teammates were signalling to him, guiding him in his response.

—Yes? —That was the only thing he could think of at that moment.

—You... you've just called me minutes before your game. Is everything okay? Do you need something? —For you, it was strange that Mason called you, especially right before his game. Mason's teammates melt with your response, you seemed like a worried girlfriend.

—N-no, I was calling to know if you're on Stamford Bridge. —He stuttered, nervous about your answer. You smiled a bit, already seated between the blue tide of fans.

—Of course! I wouldn't miss a game for anything Mase. —And that was the end of him. He said goodbye saying that he had to go out and play and hoped you liked the game, while all his friends were shouting acknowledging that probably by the end of the year, they would have a new addition on their team.

The match ended with Chelsea winning by two goals and the assistance of Mason. You couldn't be more proud of him and after the exhilarating victory at Stamford Bridge, you made your way to the cooldown room, where players and staff often gather to unwind after the match.

As you entered, you spotted Mason, the hero of the game with his crucial assist. A sense of pride swelled within you as you approached him. He was putting something in his backpack, distracted.

—Incredible game out there, —you said, startling Mason. He turned with a smile, recognizing your voice without seeing your face.

—Thanks, this means a lot to me... —Mason replied, his face beaming with satisfaction. You both exchanged a few more words about the match, sharing our favourite moments and the atmosphere at the stadium. Then, out of the blue, Mason's tone turned slightly more serious.

—You know... —he said, pausing for a moment. —I've been thinking. We've been through so much together, your support has meant a lot to me.

You nodded, feeling a sense of tenderness with him. Mason took a deep breath before continuing. —Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner later. Just to say thanks for always being there, you know?

Surprised by the unexpected invitation, you couldn't help but smile. —I'd be honoured to join you. —You said, laughing out of nervousness.

A couple hours later, Mason kept his hand on your lower back as he led you through the restaurant, your body settled into his side. His hand slid around your waist while opening the door, a shiver already wracking your body. You gasped at the white snow starting to lay outside, thick flakes slowly falling from the sky.

—Look there! Mase, it's snowing! —You tugged a little on Mason's hand on your waist, the heat replacing the cold feeling on your fingers. There was already a pretty thick layer on the ground and you wondered briefly how long it had been snowing. —It's so pretty.

Mason watched your smile widen when he was paying the bill, as you tilted your head back, eyes squinting as the flakes cascaded down. He'd never seen anyone get so excited over snow.

You looked so good under the twinkling lights, the candle in the middle of the table illuminating half of your face. He was having an amazing time, already realizing he mad in love with you.

From the way you keep your hair in a messy ponytail to the way you are surprised by the snow. Everything about you was perfect for him.

—Do you want to go for a walk before I take you home? —He slid his hand over your jaw, his thumb stroking away the little flake on your cheek. You gave a small nod, flushed since all of this was new for you. He grinned before stepping back and holding his hand out to you.

—M'lady?

You looped your arm through his and the two of you started off down the street, his gaze darting between you and the falling snow. You snuggle as close as possible to him to steal some of his natural body heat.

Snow was falling and settling into Mason’s hair, individual flakes dropping onto his eyelashes and you were certain he’d never looked prettier.

—Remember the time I tried to sneak out and you caught me? That time I was actually grounded for fighting with my brother and I wanted to buy the new console game you were so interested in. —You said, recalling those silly things.

He didn't know if his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold or from what you'd just said.

—But that game was so expensive!

—I know! I just wanted to give you something for your birthday. That's why I didn't have any presents for you at your birthday party.

Mason caught your gaze, head cocking curiously at the sudden shy look that had taken over your features. You let your eyes wander from him to the snow-filled street around you. You slowed to a stop, right against the barriers of the little lake and you leant against it, the two of you facing each other, your hand still clasped in his.

All you wanted was to grab him and kiss him, you didn’t care who saw or if you got a cold, you just wanted to kiss him in the snow.

After a silence, he said: —You know I want you, right?

You looked at him. Surprised. Self-conscious Scared. But above all, in love.

—I've been thinking and I can't help falling for you now. I’m not jealous because you have other people in your life, I’m not a fucking kid. That time with Phil, at the party, made me realize that I want you with me... By my side. I want to be the one you say 'I love you' to, I want to be the one that cuddles you, that-

You interrupted him. —Mase, I… I don’t know how to say this… —Voice uncertain as you watched for his reaction, for any flicker of emotion that stated he didn't want that.

His face fell, and he retracted his hands from the barriers that before were trapping you between his body and the barriers. Ready for rejection, he looked into your eyes.

—I… I like you too. —You looked down, feigning sadness. When you looked up, he was squinting at you. —I don't know how are you convincing my brother you're good enough for me...

—I'd probably invite him to one of my games and we could go for dinner after the game? I'll book somewhere for us. —You matched his smile with a nod, shoulders relaxing slightly after the confession as you pulled your hand from his so you could settle your arms around his neck instead.

—Sounds amazing. Deep inside he's a West Ham fan, y'know. — Mason's face contorted a little when he bumped his nose against yours, lips lightly brushing together.

—Oh shut up, —he muttered into your lips, —let me kiss you.

And you obeyed, your hands resting nervously at his neck as he ravished you, his tongue begging for entrance. You allowed it, moaning into his lips as they intertwined perfectly. His hands travelled from your hair to your waist where he pushed you closer to him.

You indeed had waited your whole life for this.

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