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theetherealbloom · 2 days ago

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Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.��

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him.

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions.

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home.

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close.

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up.

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave.

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

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wileys-russo · 5 months ago

Note

leah williamson, “are you really going to make me ask for a rivals jersey”, barca and arsenal match

switched the location up a little to the CL final! l.williamson II rivals

"you did it!" you laughed as a body crash tackled into you, nearly sending you to the ground before you caught your footing and steadied yourself, wrapping your arms tightly around your sister.

"i wish we did it." you smiled honestly as you pulled away from the hug, ana frowning and kissing your forehead, her arm draping across your shoulder.

"well i like to think its thanks to my footballing skills, guidance and dedicated coaching that you're even half as good as you are anyway. so then we did it!" the blonde grinned messing up your hair and kissing your cheek as you pushed her away.

"never mind i take it back i haven't missed you." your eyes rolled as the girl pulled a face before she was tugged away by mapi for a catch up. "well did you miss me?" you spun around at the familiar voice, features softening into a smile.

"always. i'd take seeing your face over ana's anyday!" you grinned as lia laughed and hugged you, your sisters best friend echoing how proud she was as you noticed an awkward blonde mulling about behind her.

"you can say hi you know, i don't bite." you teased the english woman who cracked a smile and moved closer. "she's trying to pretend she's not here." lia whispered in your ear, nodding to leah's attempts at a cover up which was simply a hat and a hoodie tugged over her head.

"very good disguise williamson. i almost didn't recognise you if it wasn't for your terrible posture!" you winked as the older girl shoved you, giving you a side hug making lia chuckle who was well aware of your history with her other best friend.

you'd played for a couple of seasons for manchester city before transferring to barcelona after a record breaking euros performance where you were one of the competitions highest goal scorers.

during that time you saw a lot of lia, your sister making her promise to keep an eye on you despite the fact you were living hours apart, forever over protective as she had been your entire life.

in london for a game against chelsea you'd organisd to go to dinner with lia who asked if it was okay if she brought a friend, and always having been known as quite the social butterfly you had no objections.

that was when you first met leah, the reserved and unusually quiet blonde striking you from the moment she sat down, not speaking much over dinner but always avidly listening you worried you'd not made a great first impression.

but then dragged out for some drinks with a few more of lia's friends afterward, now in a more comfortable environment you watched leah's hard outer shell start to crack and somewhere along the way you seemed to sneak in.

far too many drinks and an embarrassingly soppy call to your sister later about how much you missed her, something you refused to admit sober not wanting to give her the satisfaction, you woke up in an unfamiliar house and bed and panicked.

your anxiety increased when there'd been a knock at the door and leah of all people had wandered in offering you a coffee and an advil, your heart rate not needing the caffeine to increase at the sight.

"did we..." you trailed off awkwardly with a wince, leah quick to shake her head and explain you were in lia's home and she'd crashed the night there as well but on the sofa, and you were a strange combination of relieved and disappointed at her answer.

from that night leah seemed to find her footing around you, opening up a lot more and seeming much more herself anytime you bumped into one another at events or matches.

then finally city played arsenal for the first time that season and you were shocked when the blonde had asked to swap jerseys, and then riding out this wave of confidence to dinner with her that same night.

from then on the two of you had seemed to always tip toe around anything further, lia hopelessly confused as to what you were or how you felt, egging both of you on to just bite the bullet and ask the other on an actual date.

each time you'd play one another it was the same unspoken routine, jersey swap and dinner, sometimes in london and other times in manchester, and after months and months of dancing around what the two of you were when it seemed things might become a little more serious after a night of heavy touching and kissing, you'd broken the news you were moving to barcelona.

leah hid her true feelings well, dismissing everything to just a fling as you swallowed your own feelings at her statement, agreeing with a nod and taking things further that same night.

that was the first and last time you'd slept with her, contact simmering out between the two of you once you'd moved and though it technically hadn't been anything serious, it left you with a strange mix of emotions to shove down and ignore.

"how have you been?" you asked sincerely, lia wandering off to find her girlfriend as leah shrugged. "can't complain, even if i did nobody would care." the blonde finally grinned, the sight making you feel something you'd not in a long time as you chuckled.

the two of you made small talk for awhile, moving to the side away from the main celebrations as you caught one another up on what had been happening the last year.

"well...you know what has to happen now don't you." you sighed, leah frowning curiously as you tugged at the hem of your shirt. "oh no, you are joking right?" leah caught on with a laugh and a shake of her head.

"i absolutely am not, its tradition leah. i thought that meant something to you brits!" you teased poking at her as she rolled her eyes playfully and fiddled with the small bag clipped across her chest.

"are you really going to make me ask for a rivals jersey?" leah chuckled as you scoffed. "so it wasn't an issue when i played for a direct rival, we're not even in the same country let alone the same league and now its a problem?" you raised an eyebrow as the blonde sighed dramatically.

"may i have your jersey please?" "mmm...no."

"oi!" leah scowled as you turned to walk away, spinning back around with a grin and a wink. "since you said please." you began to pull it off as leah hurried to shrug off her jacket, offering it toward you as you gave a grateful smile and wrapped it around your near bare top half, zipping it up.

"can't wait for the rumours i'm transferring now." leah sighed with a shake of her head, your shirt slung over her shoulder making you laugh. "well with such a good disguise how on earth would anyone know its you?" you teased flicking her cap up as she pulled it back down and kicked at you halfheartedly.

"so how long are you in barcelona for?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your senses were being drowned in the familiar scent of leahs expensive perfume, the same one she'd always worn which tweaked a nerve.

"couple of days." the blonde shrugged as you hummed, smiling at the expectant look on her face knowing what she hoped to happen next.

"are you really going to make me ask a rival out for dinner?" "its the polite thing to do isn't it?" "well you don't have a great sense of direction, you probably need someone with local knowledge to help you find the nearest plain ham sandwich."

"hey my taste buds have developed! we could get burgers...plain ones." leah trailed off with a mumble making you laugh as her heart soared a little at the noise. "with an offer as tempting as that how can i say no?" you bumped your shoulder into hers with a smile, seeing your sister frantically wave for your attention over her shoulder.

"how about i cook you dinner? i still have your number, i'll text you." you promised, starting to walk away before she could decline. "oi crnogorcevic?" you turned at her call, eyebrow raised and still walking backwards as leah smiled.

"its a date."

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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inuyashaluver · 8 months ago

Note

can you write a jessie x hockey!r, where r gets into a fight during one of her games and jessie is watching from the stands with some of the chelsea players? thx

cheeky - jessie fleming

jessie fleming x reader

description: in which your girlfriend brings her friends to her cheeky girlfriend’s game

warnings: jessie still plays for chelsea!! let’s pretend ucla offers women’s hockey 🫠 swearing, mentions of a fight, suggestive

a/n: you guys don’t understand how much this request has infiltrated my tiny brain, thank you you so so much, my love, enjoyyyyy

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, jessie were quite literally some of the nicest people alive. every time someone was around the two of you for either a short or long time, they came out feeling lighter, happier and all round just more positive.

you and jessie just radiated love, a special bond between the two of you that was just undeniably beautiful.

—

you and jessie met at a college party years ago. you both went to ucla yet never crossed paths until this party. you weren’t really a party goer and neither was jessie, you both found refuge in the backyard of the house you were at.

both of your friend groups had unknowingly ditched you and you both wanted some air, away from all the drunk frat boys and sorority girls.

“sorry, do you mind if i sit here?” you ask the brunette where she sat on a small bench. her head snapped up from her phone at hearing a familiar accent. canadian.

“oh, yeah, go ahead!” jessie stutters, scooching over a little and patting the spot next to her. you smile at her gratefully, sitting down with an exaggerated huff.

jessie lets out a laugh when you sat, both of you looking at each other with bright smiles. you both thought the other was breathtakingly gorgeous, feeling like the party was a little worth it at this point.

“you sick of seeing people basically fucking each other everywhere too?” you ask her with a shake of your head, your eyes falling on a couple making out in a way that should definitely be behind a closed door.

jessie chuckles, looking down at the cup in her hand and nodding while taking a sip of it. “that and my friends ditched me” she rolls her eyes, you nudge her shoulder with yours, “mine too, don’t worry” you grin, making her return one shyly.

“i’m (y/n) by the way” jessie smiles, repeating the name in her head that she would surely never forget.

“jessie” you smile at her, pink cheeks a little evident on the both of you when you made eye contact again.

“sorry if this is weird but are you from canada?” jessie asks nervously, your eyes widen comically, your face brightening at the girl's question.

you didn’t really have many friends from back home who came to the states for college. sure there was a bunch of canadian girls at college but none of them were this pretty. or this easy to talk to.

“i am! don’t tell me you are too?” you question, jessie smiled at your excitement, her heart beating quickly at your glistening eyes. she nods, making you start rambling with where she was from.

you both continued to chat and it was scary how much you had in common.

the conversation was full of laughter, shared jokes and most definitely a shared attraction. “so, jessie, what do you do besides being an environmental warrior?” you say cheekily, the girl scoffs, slapping your thigh gently and rolling her eyes,

“i play soccer” she mocks, you give her an impressed smile as she explained how good she really was, “mhm, i should come and watch you sometime, superstar?” you flirt, giving her a charming smile that had butterflies swarming in her stomach.

you’d both gone far from friendly conversation, the flirting taking over after about 2 hours of you familiarising yourself with each other.

“yeah, maybe you should, and you? miss number solver?” she teases back, referring to you doing an accounting degree.

“i play hockey” you move a little so you could face her better and she does the same, although, her face has a shit eating grin on it.

“what’s so funny?” you narrow your eyes at her, “you’re so canadian” she laughs, you shake your head as she throws her head back in laughter, clearly enjoying how you’re not even defending yourself.

she encourages you to talk about your sport and to say she fell in love with you there was an understatement. you spoke with so much passion she really loved to see and hear it.

you also admit you fell in love with her when she talked about her sport, but even more with how intently she was listening to you, soaking in every word you said and clarifying things she didn’t understand.

you both felt something bubbling under the surface as you talked, so much so, when the party started to filter out, she asked if you wanted to get some ice cream and who were you to decline?

the teasing and the flirting throughout the whole night was so unbearable, you asked her out on a date without a second thought, smiling brightly when she accepted without any hesitation.

you both began to date after a few months, becoming one of the ‘it couples’ around campus when everyone could truly tell how much you were in love with each other.

you went to each other’s games with bright, adoring smiles, wearing each other’s jerseys with pride.

you had study dates together, most of the time getting distracted but neither part was complaining.

you were there for each other throughout all the ups and downs, talking and listening to one another for hours and somehow feeling not enough when you were with each other every second of the day.

you’d both established a career before you even graduated college, star athletes in the making in your respected sports.

you’d do anything for each other, so much so you moved with her to england when she signed her contract to chelsea.

—

while jessie played for chelsea, you still continued to play hockey in england also. it was hard being away from home but jessie made it all better.

your continual support for each other offering a sense of security that nothing else could. it also helped that you both represented canada nationally, often getting the opportunity to go home together.

—

the chelsea girls knew you too well, you came to every single game without fail with a bright grin on your face in the ‘fleming’ jersey that was almost worn as much as your own.

“your wife’s here” niamh teases as she warmed up with jessie before a match, the two of you weren’t married, or engaged even, not yet at least but this didn’t stop niamh from wishing you were, knowing how much her best friend adored you.

“where?” jessie grins, stopping all movement and frantically looking for you, niamh directs her head to where you were sitting in the friends and family section and her heart swelled with pride.

you wave at her brightly and she returns it instantly, her face growing warm at the smile you sent her, snapped out of her trance at niamh’s laugh. “such a sap” she smiles, jessie just gives her shoulder a little shove, continuing to warm up.

when the match was over after an easy win, jessie bounded over to you without a second to waste. “hi, baby” you smile as she walked into your arms, the barrier making it a little difficult but you both didn’t care.

“hi, gorgeous” jessie says breathlessly, pulling you into a sweet kiss with her hand on your cheek. you smile against her, your own hand on the side of her neck, your thumb brushing against her skin gently.

“my superstar” you say as you pull away, brushing away some stray hairs from her face before pulling her into a tight hug.

“gotta impress my wag, baby” she says cheekily, kissing your cheek repeatedly to make you giggle, working successfully like it did every time.

“i’m definitely impressed, baby canada” you smile, pressing another quick kiss to her lips as you pulled away slightly.

her hands make her way to your waist, rubbing up and down gently as you chatted, only lasting for a couple of seconds before you ushered her to interact with the fans.

“i’ll see you at home, beautiful” she winks, pecking your lips before running away, shouting a quick “i love you” over her shoulder that you quickly returned before leaving to drive home.

—

you had an upcoming game, an important one at that. you’d been nervous about it all week, jessie frequently having to calm you down so you could breathe. you were the captain, both for this team and the canada team so a lot of pressure fell on your shoulders.

the only reassurance you had was knowing jessie would be there, even inviting some of her teammates to come and watch you since they had the day off.

jessie wasn’t one to miss an opportunity where she got to ogle her talented girlfriend and show you off at the same time so she was extremely excited.

the morning of, let’s just say it was extremely difficult to get you out of the house.

“what if i fuck up?” you whine, turning from the door and walking back to jessie who was watching you from the doorway. “you won’t” she assures, pinching your cheek softly before turning you around and giving you a soft push to the door.

you turn back around, “what if something goes wrong?” you say nervously, “baby, you’ll be fine, we can deal with it” jessie chuckles, you throw your head back in annoyance.

the people who only knew you from hockey would be shocked to know you did this before every game. they’d be shocked to know how soft you were when it came to your girlfriend.

“i don’t want to go” you groan, jessie draws you in by your waist, her arms wrapped around them securely, “baby, you’ll be amazing, like always” jessie says earnestly, her brown eyes looking directly into yours so you knew she wasn’t lying.

“but you don’t know that” you pout, jessie quickly smiling before pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“i’m your girlfriend, i know everything” she says cheekily, pecking your lips a couple of times and managing to pull a small smile out of you.

“you go do your best, that’s all i want from you” she smiles, her hands now cradling your face as your arms wrap around her. “okay” you breathe out, determined.

smiling before pulling her into a breathless kiss that made both of you feel dizzy, sharing a quick i love you before she had to physically push you out of the house, knowing you’d convince her to stay.

—

jessie made her way to the arena in your jersey, your number written neatly tiny on her cheek. she was accompanied by niamh, zećira, aggie and hannah.

to say jessie got teased the entire time was an understatement but she didn’t care, she had no shame with the amount of love she had for you.

when you skated out on the ice with the ‘C’ over your heart, you had no ounce of nervousness at all. a complete contrast from the morning.

the truth is, on the ice, you were ruthless, completely contradicting how you were off the ice.

you carried yourself with complete confidence, expecting nothing but the best. you were a little rough but one of the best players and everyone knew it. you didn’t take any bullshit.

you were strategic, smart and calculated. you knew what you were doing and you were the captain both in this league and nationally for a reason. a team leader without fail. a role model, a borderline legend.

jessie and her friends cheered loudly for you when your name was announced on the loudspeaker. jessie watched as you waved around the arena before locking back in, skating around the ice in preparation for the game.

jessie was on the edge of her seat the entire time watching you, scoring 2 points in a short amount of time. you were playing exceptionally well, jessie’s heart swelled with pride but she was extremely nervous how this one player kept trying to rile you up.

she knew you didn’t take any disrespect and knew this girl was about to get her ass handed to her.

the girl was being overly physical with you and you would counter it every time. she was the other captain and knew she’d get thrown into the box if she tried anything too much. her behaviour was surprising.

but the girl continued, having the nerve to be near you every time with something to say every two seconds.

you’d ignore it, having dealt with people more annoying than this but it flipped when she started talking about jessie. your jessie.

she started with the insults about you until she said, “is your girlfriend some sort of puck bunny?” you fucking lost it.

you dropped your stick and both of you break out into a heated fight. fists flying before you grabbed her by her shirt, slamming her into the glass and spitting out words that we’re definitely not family friendly. jessie’s eyes were so wide in shock, never really seeing you in a fight like this before.

“talk about my girlfriend like that again and i’ll shove the puck down your fucking throat” you exclaim, getting pulled back by the referee and getting told to go to the penalty box.

you send a glare to the girl and she falters almost instantly before you skated to the box. you sat down with a huff, arms crossed over your chest as you watched your team dominate the other.

jessie shook her head while she looked at you, niamh and zećira cheering you on throughout the fight and even more now that you were in the box.

when your ten minutes was up, you played the rest of the game with passion, finishing with an easy and well deserved win. jessie ran down to where the change rooms were, her teammates waiting nearby.

jessie watched as you skated off the ice, catching your breath as you quickened your pace to jessie. her face was etched with worry as you approached, watching as you took off your helmet hastily and took out your mouth guard.

“hey, baby” you say brightly, bounding over and wrapping jessie up in a hug, your face instantly tucked into the crook of her neck, your cold nose brushing against her warm skin.

“for someone that just beat the shit out of someone, you’re very happy” she says amusingly, her arms wrapping around you without hesitation.

“she deserved it, trust me on that” and jessie did. you pull away from her at arms length, a cheesy smile plastered on your face as you looked at her.

“are you okay?” she asked, her voice clearly laced with worry, you nodded, kissing jessie’s cheek tenderly as you drew her a little closer.

“i’m fine, love, especially since my biggest fan is here” you grin, “you should see the other guy” you laugh as jessie slaps your shoulder lightly, “cheeky” she chuckles, pulling you into another tight hug in absolute relief you were okay.

you could tell she was on edge because of the circumstances, the hug telling you everything you needed to know. you hugged her tightly, letting her find solace in you and honestly calming you both down.

you wave over at her teammates when she pulls away and chat with them excitedly. you held onto jessie’s hand the entire time you all chatted, thanking them for coming and watching.

“what does that say on your stick?” niamh questions, you smile, moving your hand to show that you’d written jessie’s name with a little heart next to it on your tape, a tradition for you ever since you’d started dating.

“good luck charm” you grin, both of you getting teased for your bright pink cheeks. you say goodbye to them before they leave, turning back to jessie with a sweet smile. this is the side of you she knew the best. an absolute softie.

before you get changed, you draw jessie into another kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against her when she whined against your mouth.

you give her an amused expression, seeming as though she was a little riled up about the whole situation. “shut up” she groans, pushing you away by your chest slightly but you came right back, pressing a sweet peck to her lips,

“i didn’t say anything” you mumble against her, squeezing her hips gently before you ran to the change room, wanting to get back home as quick as possible.

let’s just say violence is never the answer but is excusable only for the way your girlfriend reacted to you when you both stepped through the door of your shared apartment.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

_jessflem: you wouldn’t know she beat someone up 10 minutes before this but here we are

view all comments

yourname: so worth it

↳ _jessflem: really was actually

niamhcharles17: your girlfriend’s got a crazy fist on her but is SUCH a softie

↳ yourname: watch it niamhy

↳ _jessflem: biggest softie ever

↳ yourname: you’re supposed to defend me

↳ _jessflem: i love you?

↳ yourname: yeah. whatever. i love you too.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming

765 notes · View notes

isak-dot-gov · 2 months ago

Text

Mic'd Up

Pairing: Kelsey Plum x Reader

Word count:

Summary: The Las Vegas Aces media team ask you to be mic'd up for one of their games.

Masterlist:

.....................................................................

You felt a little giddy as you made your way into the Michelob Ultra Arena. The buzz of excited fans filled the air, but tonight was different for you. Sure, you’d been to dozens of Las Vegas Aces games to support Kelsey, your girlfriend, but this time, you were the centre of some unexpected attention. The media team had asked you to be mic’d up for tonight’s game.

Apparently, your reactions to the Aces’ plays—especially Kelsey's—had gotten some attention from the fans. Whether it was jumping out of your seat for a buzzer-beater or groaning when the refs made a bad call, your emotions were front and centre. You couldn’t help it—watching Kelsey and the team play stirred something in you, and now you were going to have to be conscious of the fact that every word would be recorded.

After receiving the microphone, you found your usual seat near the court and took a deep breath. "You’ve got this," you muttered to yourself, adjusting the small mic clipped to your collar. The camera crew wasn’t far off, ready to catch your reactions, and while that made you a bit nervous, you were also kind of excited. Kelsey still didn’t know about the mic’d-up surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

The warm-ups began, and soon enough, the familiar squeak of shoes on the hardwood filled the air. Kelsey, as always, looked completely focused, but she hadn’t noticed you yet. You watched her go through her routine, shooting three-pointers with that effortless grace she always had. It was impossible not to smile as you felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter. She was incredible, and you were so proud of her.

Just before the game tipped off, Kelsey finally caught sight of you in the stands. She gave you a small smile and a wave, which you returned with a wink. You could tell by the look on her face that she was in the zone, ready to take on the night.

As the game started, it didn’t take long for you to forget about the mic. You were too caught up in the action, jumping to your feet when Kelsey sank a three just minutes into the first quarter.

“That’s my girl! Let’s go, Kelsey!” you yelled, grinning from ear to ear.

Beside you, the camera crew stifled their laughter as they captured your energy. You sat down again, buzzing with excitement, but it wasn’t long before the entire arena was on its feet. Jackie Young had just stolen the ball and was racing down the court for a fast break.

“Oh, Jackie, take it all the way!” you shouted, holding your breath as she made a clean layup. You stood up again, applauding with the rest of the crowd.

The game was fast-paced, and your reactions came naturally. You cheered every time Chelsea Gray made an insane assist, clapped loudly for A’ja Wilson’s tough rebounds, and even groaned when a call didn’t go in the Aces’ favour.

When Kelsey got subbed back in, you knew she was about to make a statement. The way she moved on the court with such purpose was thrilling. As she came off a screen and launched a deep three, you jumped out of your seat again.

“Yes, Kelsey! Hit that!” you shouted, fist-pumping as the ball swished through the net.

Kelsey briefly looked in your direction and smirked, shaking her head. She didn’t know about the mic yet, but she knew you well enough to recognize your voice.

The energy only intensified as halftime approached. The Aces were up by ten points, and the crowd was loving it. You found yourself totally engrossed, barely paying attention to the fact that the camera was pointed at you. When A’ja nailed a tough jumper at the buzzer, you screamed, “MVP! MVP!” along with the rest of the crowd, clapping like your life depended on it.

As the players headed to the locker room for halftime, Kelsey jogged over to where you were sitting. She wiped some sweat off her brow and grinned.

“So, how’s it going? Enjoying yourself?” she asked, leaning on the barrier separating the court from the seats.

“Of course! You’re killing it out there,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your heart was still racing from the excitement.

Kelsey tilted her head. “You seem extra hyped tonight. Something I should know?”

Before you could answer, a couple of Kelsey’s teammates—A’ja Wilson, Jackie Young, and Chelsea Gray—came up behind her.

“Yo, Kelsey,” A’ja called out, “is it just me, or is your girl, like, super into the game tonight?”

Jackie laughed, nudging Chelsea. “She’s giving us more energy than the bench squad.”

You blushed, laughing along with them. “I just love watching you guys play.”

Chelsea raised an eyebrow, a sly smile forming on her face. “Or maybe it’s just Kelsey she’s hyped about?”

“Okay, maybe a little of both,” you admitted, shooting a glance at Kelsey, who was looking at you with that soft, affectionate smile she reserved only for you.

A’ja stepped closer, crossing her arms with a teasing grin. “Wait, wait, is she mic’d up?” she asked, finally noticing the small microphone on your collar. “Oh, man, this is gold!”

Kelsey’s eyes widened as she caught sight of it, too. “Wait, seriously? You’re mic’d up?”

You sheepishly nodded. “Uh, yeah. The media team thought it’d be fun to capture my reactions tonight since, uh, apparently, the fans love them.”

Kelsey’s face broke into a grin, clearly amused. “Oh, this is going to be interesting.”

“Oh, it’s already been interesting,” Jackie chimed in with a laugh. “She’s been jumping out of her seat every time you score.”

A’ja chuckled, nudging Kelsey. “You’ve got your own personal cheerleader on blast.”

Kelsey shook her head, still smiling. “I guess I’ll have to put on a show in the second half then.”

As the players headed back to the locker room for halftime, Kelsey leaned in closer to you, her voice low enough for just the two of you to hear. “Just don’t say anything too embarrassing, alright?”

“No promises,” you teased, grinning back at her.

The second half of the game was even more intense. The Aces kept the lead, but the opposing team was catching up fast. Your reactions became even more animated as the game tightened.

When Kelsey made a crucial steal in the fourth quarter and raced down the court for an open layup, you were on your feet again. “Yes, Kelsey! That’s how you do it!” you screamed, pumping your fists in the air.

The camera caught your enthusiasm, and the arena’s big screen switched to you again, showing your reaction to the entire crowd. You blushed, but it didn’t stop you from cheering.

Chelsea hit a deep three-pointer to give the Aces some breathing room, and you yelled, “That’s why she’s the Point Gawd!”

“Someone’s got to tell her she’s on camera,” Chelsea joked as she jogged back on defence, pointing toward you.

As the game neared its end, Kelsey hit a three that sealed the deal, and the arena erupted into cheers. You were louder than anyone, clapping and yelling with everything you had.

When the final buzzer sounded, and the Aces secured the win, you stood with the rest of the fans, clapping and celebrating. Kelsey jogged over to you, still breathing heavily from the game, her face glowing with victory.

“So, how’d I do?” she asked with a playful smirk.

“You were amazing,” you said, your voice softening as you looked at her. “But I think you already knew that.”

Kelsey laughed, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, but it’s nice to hear you say it. Even if the whole arena heard you, too.”

A’ja and the rest of the team walked over, joining in on the teasing. “Yo, Kelsey, your girl was louder than the mascot tonight!” A’ja laughed, pulling you into a friendly hug. “She’s got more energy than any of us!”

Jackie nodded in agreement. “She’s officially part of the Aces family now.”

You smiled, feeling your face heat up at the attention. “I just love watching you all play. You make it easy to get excited.”

Kelsey looked at you with that familiar glint in her eyes, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. “Well, you definitely kept things interesting. But now I’ve got to see the footage from tonight.”

“You’d better,” Chelsea said, laughing. “It’s pure gold.”

As the players gathered for post-game interviews and celebrations, Kelsey gave you a lingering look before heading off with her team. You stayed behind, still buzzing from the excitement of the game and the fun of being mic’d up.

One thing was for sure—you’d never forget this game. Neither would Kelsey or her teammates.

..............................................................

#wbb #wnba basketball #kelsey plum x reader #kelsey plum #las vegas aces

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jflemings · 6 months ago

Text

— busted

pairing: jessie fleming x arsenal!reader {piper’s world}

synopsis: sam offers to babysit piper while you go out on a date and decides to drag niamh along. piper accidentally spills the beans on you and jessie’s budding relationship

warnings: none!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🪽 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“y/n!” sam calls as her and niamh enter your apartment. she takes off her shoes and gestures for her teammate to do the same before the sound of small feet pitter-pattering draws her attention.

piper is going as fast as her little legs can carry her, her arms outstretched as she runs towards sam. she’s grinning big and giggles loudly when sam bends down and picks her up, tossing her in the air slightly.

“sammy!” her boisterous giggles bounce off the walls.

“pippa!” sam echoes back

the striker holds piper close to her and points to niamh “you remember niamh, don’t you?”

piper nods and waves “hi niamh”

the defender softly says hi back just as you stick your head around the corner “oh my god thank you so much for doing this” you thanks as you lean down to zip up your left boot “i’m sorry it’s so last minute, i’ll get you both something to make up for it”

“don’t worry about it” sam waves off “i’d do anything to spend time with piper, and niamh here was just sitting at home” you says jerking her thumb behind her.

you pat yourself down and check your purse to make sure you’ve got everything before running a finger under your eye “i shouldn’t be back too late” you assure the duo.

sam nods “tell me again about this date”

you roll your eyes “there’s not much to tell. we met through a mutual friend and hit it off”

“and when can i meet this mystery woman?” she cocks her brow

you pause and bite your lip before shrugging “i’ll let you know”

sam rolls her eyes as you redirect your attention to niamh, smiling briefly “there’s left over pasta in the fridge but i’ve also left money on the counter if you wanna order in, she’s been fed and bathed, bed time is eight thirty, and if she wants a snack there’s a variety in the cupboard” you tell the two chelsea players as you grab your coat “and do not let her bully you into allowing her to stay up late” you point at the both of them.

niamh’s hands go up in surrender “got it. food in fridge, bed at half past eight, snacks in the cupboard, don’t let her bully us” she lists off, earning a nod of approval from you.

“you’re a natural” you playfully wink at her before kissing piper’s head “be good for sammy and niamh. i don’t want any trouble” you say pointedly

piper nods her head “you be good too, mummy” she says as she lays her head on sam’s shoulder.

you usher the two women further into your apartment as you check your phone, your eyes widening at the realisation that you’re going to be late. you blow your daughter a kiss and wave the three of them goodbye, closing the door and leaving them to their own devices.

“have fun on your daaaaate!” sam calls out as you shut the door, smiling smugly to herself.

over her shoulder, niamh and piper share a look “you wan’a colour?”

two hours later sam is sitting on the floor of your lounge room with multicoloured clips in her hair. piper holds onto her shoulder as she focuses on finding a place for a sparkly butterfly clip.

she clips it in the front of sam’s hair and then holds out her small hand “‘nother please niamh” she says politely.

“of course” the defender says whilst trying to hold in her giggles “another butterfly?”

piper stops to think for a minute “yes please”

sam flicks through the kids section on netflix patiently “what do ya wanna watch, kiddo?”

“turtles please” piper answers as niamh hands her a blue butterfly clips “blue for cheelseaaa” she drags out as she carefully placed the clip in sam’s hair.

sam finds the animated ninja turtle show piper’s talking about and smirks “blue for chelsea because we play for chelsea?”

“no” she says matter-a-factually “blue for chelsea because jessie plays for chelsea”

niamh stills for a moment “you know jessie?”

sam nods her head “i introduced them a—”

“of course i know jessie” piper interrupts dramatically “jessie has sleepovers!”

the two women pause and share a look. niamh raises her brows as sam shrugs her shoulders, the two of them having a wordless conversation.

piper, being none the wiser to it, continues “and colours with me and plays with me” she goes on, holding out her hand again.

niamh’s on auto pilot as she hands the toddler another clip, her unblinking expression identical to sam’s.

“all done!” piper cheers as she claps her hands, holding up a hand held mirror to sam so she can look at her hair. sam takes the mirror and nods her head before turning to piper.

“do you see jessie all the time or just sometimes?”

“all the time” piper nods “mummy and jessie go out sometimes so i get to go to stephy”

niamh’s eyes go wide “and mummy and jessie… are they—”

“mummy and jessie are bestest friends” piper giggles as she situates herself in sam’s lap “they say so all the time”

the two chelsea players share another confused look but don’t push it any further with the toddler, choosing to sit back and watch the show she’d chosen instead.

despite the colourful animation on the screen in front of her, sam’s mind was going a million miles a minute. she loved jessie dearly but she knew what you went through when you got pregnant with piper. the internal conflict that plagued your pregnancy had taken a toll on you, as did the fact that your ex wanted nothing to do with you or your sweet little girl, and sam didn’t want a repeat of that happening. hell would freeze over before she watched you get treated like that again.

it only took thirty minutes for piper to be sprawled out in sam’s lap, her little limbs poking sam’s body awkwardly. the striker brushed some hair out of her face before standing carefully, adjusting her grip so that piped was situated comfortably on her chest.

she walks down the hall to piper’s room and tucks her in before turning on her little fairy lights. she stands in the doorway for a minute to ensure that she hadn’t woken the child up before cracking the door and walking back out to the living room.

“did you know—”

“no” sam replies as she sits on the couch next to niamh “i had no clue”

the defender kisses her teeth “are you worried?”

sam pauses for a moment, scrubbing her hand over her face before releasing a sigh “no” she says, dropping her arm on the armrest “not for the reasons you might think, anyway”

niamh nods and fidgets with the remote, the animated teenage mutant ninja turtles show still playing in the background. “so… the issue isn’t jessie?”

“no, god no. well—” sam shakes her head “no” she says firmly before looking to niamh.

niamh smirks “so you won’t be mad at me if i call jessie right now?”

“to do what?” sam asks puzzled.

you and jessie walk with your arms linked, the both of you bundled up and huddled into eachother as you walk to her car. you shake your head and laugh as jessie tells you a story from her ucla days.

“you left her on the front lawn?” you laugh

jessie throws her head back “no!” she exclaims “she told me she was getting her own way back to our dorm so i left early. it was only when i woke up the next morning and she wasn’t there that i ran back to the frat house”

“teagan gets pretty wild” you muse “i can’t believe she got you to go to a frat party”

the canadian groans “more than once, and i ended up leaving early almost everytime”

“almost?”

jessie blushes wildly and looks away from you briefly, clearly recalling a memory she doesn’t want to think about “yes” she says quietly.

you duck your head slightly “jeeesssieee” you draw out teasingly, nudging your shoulders together.

she’s about to answer you when her phone buzzes in her pocket. she stops the two of you and pulls her phone out, frowning when she sees niamh’s name on her screen. the two of you look at eachother and shrug before she answers “hello?”

“jessie!” you hear niamh yell down the other line “how’s your night going? what are you up to?”

jessie’s eyebrows furrow in suspicion “it’s fine, not much going on. why? what are you doing?”

“sam and i are babysitting” she answers, allowing jessie to hear the smile in her voice.

the midfielder’s face drops ever so slightly and she looks at you intensely. you feel your stomach fall and you can’t help but grip jessie’s arm tighter.

“real cute kid, very polite” the defender trails off “how’s y/n?”

all the colour drains from jessie’s face and her eyes go wide. you can see the panic across her face and you wave your free hand about trying to get her to try to explain whatever niamh was telling her.

it’s like jessie’s brain has completely disconnected from her mouth “who’s y/n?”

you drop jessie’s arm and cover your face with both hands as she grimaces. the canadian bites one of her knuckles as niamh goes silent on the other end of the phone and she wonders if she can just hang up now.

“jessie” a thick australian accent says “put y/n on the phone please”

“okay” jessie says quietly before holding out the phone “it’s for you”

you purse your lips and take the phone off her “niamh”

“nope”

you screw your eyes shut “hey sammy, how’s piper?” you ask as cheerily as you can “did she get to bed okay?”

“fell asleep in my lap whilst watching ninja turtles” she answers “how’s your date going?”

“good” you answer whilst nodding “i’ll, uhm, be home soon”

“perfect!” she perks up “tell jessie to come up with you when she drops you off”

you look at jessie who’s biting her nails nervously and watching you like a hawk, looking for any sign that sam’s unhappy with the two of you. you suddenly feel like you’re back in highschool getting scolded by your mother for ending up drunk on your high school’s oval instead of sleeping at your friend’s house like you told her. you frown and pull jessie’s hand away from her mouth before holding it in your own.

“okay” you sigh deeply before hanging up and handing jessie’s phone back to her.

she pockets it and squeezes your hand “is it bad?” she asks nervously.

you squint “i’m not sure” you say huddling into her again “but it’s just sam, so, probably not”

#piper’s world #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming fluff #woso #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #woso fluff #jflemings writes #jflemings woso

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mapiforpresident · 9 months ago

Note

may i request prompt 10 with emily fox where they both play for the uswnt, please? maybe they are rivals in chelsea vs arsenal? thank you!

Enemies No Longer

Emily Fox x reader

warnings: none

You and Emily Fox, two formidable forces on the pitch, had always shared an intense rivalry. As a striker for Chelsea, you were tasked with outmaneuvering Emily, the formidable defender for Arsenal and the US Women's National Soccer Team. Another reason you didn't like facing off with Emily is that you were both American, however you had yet to be called up to the national team. Match after match, you faced off against each other, each determined to lead your respective teams to victory.

But despite the animosity that simmered between you on the field, there was an undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air whenever you crossed paths. Emily's tenacity and skill challenged you in ways you hadn't experienced before, pushing you to become a better player with each encounter.

However, it wasn't until you received the call-up to the USWNT for the first time that your perspective began to shift. Suddenly, you found yourself thrust into the same team as Emily, your former rival now your teammate. As you trained together and shared the same locker room, you couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in your perception of her.

Gone was the annoyance and frustration that had colored your interactions on the pitch. In its place bloomed a newfound admiration for Emily's dedication and talent, as well as a growing sense of fondness that caught you off guard.

It started with simple gestures - a smile exchanged across the training ground, a shared laugh over a post-match meal. Slowly but surely, your feelings began to evolve, morphing from annoyance to something altogether more complex and profound.

As you spent more time together, you discovered shared interests and passions beyond the world of football. Conversations flowed easily between you, each one revealing new layers to Emily's personality that you hadn't previously seen. You found yourself drawn to her warmth, her kindness, and the unwavering support she offered both on and off the pitch.

And then, one day, it happened - a fleeting touch, a lingering glance, and suddenly, the truth was undeniable. You were falling for Emily Fox, your former rival turned teammate, in a way you had never imagined possible.

As you stood on the pitch together, side by side, preparing for another match, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. But this time, it wasn't just about the game. It was about the possibility of something more, something real and tangible that had blossomed between you despite all odds.

The final whistle blew, signaling the end of your first match with the USWNT. As you made your way off the field, your heart raced with a mix of exhilaration and nerves. But amidst the cheers and applause of the crowd, there was only one person you were searching for - Emily.

Spotting her near the sideline, you made your way over, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. She greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with pride. "Great game out there," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Thanks, Emily," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. This was it - the moment you had been waiting for, the moment to finally lay your feelings bare.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out to take her hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Emily's expression softened, her gaze locking with yours in silent anticipation. "What is it?" she asked, her tone gentle and encouraging.

"I... I've realized something these past few weeks," you confessed, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Being on the same team as you, getting to know you beyond the rivalry... it's made me see things differently."

Emily listened intently, her hand squeezing yours in silent support. "Go on," she urged, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I... I've developed feelings for you, Emily," you admitted, the weight of the confession lifting from your shoulders. "More than just teammates, more than just friends. I... I think I'm in love with you."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the air thick with anticipation. Then, slowly but surely, a smile spread across Emily's face, radiant and genuine.

"I've been feeling the same way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it aside, but... I can't deny what's in my heart any longer."

With those words, the floodgates opened, and all the pent-up emotions and desires that had been simmering beneath the surface came rushing out. You found yourselves enveloped in each other's arms, the world around you fading away as you basked in the warmth of your newfound connection.

And as you stood there, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together - one that transcended the boundaries of rivalry and united you in a love that was stronger than anything you had ever known.

For on that fateful day, amidst the cheers and celebrations of your first USWNT match, you had not only emerged victorious on the field but also in matters of the heart. And as you looked into Emily's eyes, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, forever and always.

#emily fox #arsenal women #uswnt #uswnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

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cityzenchick · 1 year ago

Text

As usual the anticipation is rising for this match today and the butterflies in my tummy are multiplying by the hour!! 🦋 🦋 The worst bit is that my BIG boss is a huge Chelsea fan and has a hospitality suite at Stamford Bridge to entertain clients, but I can understand why he wouldn't invite me, as he knows I would be screaming and shouting for City the whole match!! 🤣⚽️🩵👏😆

#chelsea vs manchester city #stamford bridge #butterflies in my stomach #love my city boys 🩵

0 notes

chelseachilly · 5 months ago

Text

so high school

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: you and ben have been friends for years, but you haven't seen him much since you left chelsea for another job opportunity. all it takes is an engagement party, a bit of alcohol and a drinking game to bring the feelings you've been harbouring for years to the surface... warnings: hints of smut, alcohol use word count: 5k

author’s note: this fic has been SUCH a long time coming! it started as an idea from a request i got like a year ago asking for a friends to lovers fic involving spin the bottle, and then i got re-inspired to finish when 'so high school' by taylor swift came out. please note this takes place last summer since that's when i started writing it lol, and hope you enjoy!

You didn’t really know what to expect when you arrived at Kai and Sophia’s place, but you figured it would be a somewhat classy evening.

You’ve had your fair share of wild nights with this group of friends - the night in Porto after the Champions League win comes to mind - but you’re all a little older now and you are celebrating Kai and Sophia’s engagement, after all. You thought it would be a relaxed, grown-up party.

Evidently, you thought wrong.

Kai is already clearly drunk when he greets you at the door with a massive hug, and you can hear Sophia squeal as she comes running to hug you too.

“Congratulations, you two!” you exclaim, hugging Sophia back. It’s the first time you’ve seen them since the engagement, and you’re over the moon for them.

“Thank you!” Sophia grins, proudly showing off her ring when she pulls away, beaming at Kai. “Now come on, everyone’s already here and they’re excited to see you!”

You knew you were running a bit late, but you don’t realize how late until you walk into a living room filled with drunk footballers. You know most of them, except for a couple of Kai’s new Arsenal teammates you haven’t had the chance to meet before. Reece is here, Timo, Kepa, even Mason is in town for the night.

And, of course, on the couch next to Mason is Ben, whose face lights up when he sees you.

When you got a job on Chelsea’s media team in 2019, you were pleasantly surprised by how quickly you became friends with many of the players. During your very first week, Mason invited you to a party at his house, and from that point forward you’ve been close with a lot of the boys and their partners.

They’re now like family to you, regardless of if they’re still playing for Chelsea. Many of the boys have now gone in different directions, and you yourself left the club for an incredible job opportunity at Sky Sports a few months ago, but you wouldn’t miss an important occasion like this one for the world.

Even if that means you have to see the one person who has always made your legs weak and your brain turn to mush. The one you’ve missed significantly more than all the rest of the guys since your departure.

The one that you’re pretty sure you fell for the day he signed for Chelsea and you bumped into him in a hallway at Cobham.

Ben Chilwell.

“Y/N!” Ben exclaims, jumping up to hug you. As usual, he looks unfairly hot in just a white t-shirt and black shorts. “You’re finally here!”

You sink into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent before the hug is over - which is far too quickly for your liking.

“Yeah, can someone get me a drink or did you lot finish off the bar already?” you joke, pulling back to meet Ben’s gaze.

“On it,” Mason offers before Ben can say anything, giving you a quick peck on the cheek on his way over to the bar.

As Mason makes you a strong drink so you can catch up to everyone else’s level, you turn back to Ben and find him still looking at you with those bright blue-green eyes and the warm smile that captivated you from the start.

“How’s your summer been?” you ask quickly, trying to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach from just being in his presence.

It’s been a couple of months now since you’ve seen him, but you’ve seen on his Instagram that he’s spent his summer at F1 races and on yachts while you’ve been stuck working in London.

“Good, it’s been way too long since I’ve seen you, though,” Ben says sincerely. “How’s life as a hotshot producer for Sky?”

“Busy,” you reply, trying not to blush at his previous comment. “I’m liking it, but I do miss Chelsea. You know, the atmosphere at the club, all the familiar faces.”

“The club misses you too, trust me,” Ben says without missing a beat.

You don’t have time to respond before Mason is thrusting a drink into your hand and Sophia is tugging you away to discuss early wedding plans.

After an hour or so, you’ve quickly relaxed back into a familiar state of comfort with your friends. Even if you don’t see each other as much as you would like these days, and it’s only going to get harder to make time when the season starts, these people still mean the world to you.

At some point, after you’re a few drinks deep - you’ve definitely toasted to Kai and Sophia’s engagement with at least 3 different bottles of champagne at this point - and have made the rounds to talk to everyone, you feel someone grab your hand and tug you down onto the couch.

You let out a surprised squeak, and your heart rate doesn’t settle down at all once you realize who grabbed you - who you’re now sitting so close to that your legs are touching.

The entire time you’ve been here, you’ve been trying to resist going back over to chat with Ben, even though you’ve felt a magnetic pull in his direction from the moment you laid eyes on him. You’ve been sneaking glances at him whenever you can, admiring the way his eyes light up when he talks or the way he runs his fingers through his hair when he’s thinking about something, but you haven’t had a moment alone since he greeted you.

“What’s up, Chilly?” you ask, chuckling at his content expression. “You pretty drunk?”

“Just buzzed,” Ben smiles. “You know, last hurrah before the season starts.”

“You didn’t have enough fun frolicking around the Mediterranean for a month?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can think about what you’re saying, and you see the way his eyebrows immediately raise and a slightly smug look appears on his face.

“Someone’s been stalking my Insta,” he smirks. “You miss me or something, Y/N?”

You take a small sip of your drink, staring down at your lap before answering him. Some combination of the buzz and the party and just him makes you briefly emboldened to tell the truth.

“Yeah, maybe I did.”

When you look up, Ben’s eyes immediately lock with yours, and you suddenly feel your cheeks growing hotter and your stomach in knots.

There’s always been some unexplored tension lingering beneath your friendship.

Nothing has ever actually happened between the two of you, although there are a few times it probably could have (and one time it almost did) if you weren’t trying to be professional and not hook up with one of the players at the club you worked for.

A club you no longer work for, you realize.

“I missed you too, Y/N,” he says in a slightly lower voice that sends a shiver up your spine.

You continue to look into each other’s eyes, the tension seeming to build with each second, until Sophia plops down beside you and interrupts the moment.

“Alright, we’re playing a drinking game,” she declares, setting a deck of cards on the table in front of you.

“Is that really necessary at this point?” you joke, gesturing to the fairly inebriated group of people around you.

“No, but it will be fun,” Sophia grins. “And I’m the bride-to-be, so I’m in charge.”

It’s a simple game to follow, thankfully. It’s essentially a version of truth or dare where the questions and challenges are pre-written on the cards. You go around the circle a few times, and thankfully you get some fairly easy ones, like revealing the name of your first crush (who nobody here knows) and taking a shot of the alcohol of your choice.

It’s entertaining watching the boys complete some pretty outlandish dares, and you’re excited to see what crazy task Ben ends up with when you see him draw a dare card from his spot next to you.

“Alright,” Ben says before reading his card aloud to the group. “Kiss the person…to your left.”

Even in your slightly inebriated state, it doesn’t take you long to realize that you’re the person to his left, meaning Ben has to kiss you.

The room goes silent as the implication of this settles in. You’re certain at least half of the people here have had some kind of wager at some point over when you and Ben would get together, but you always brushed it off and joked that it would never happen.

Nothing has ever technically happened between you, other than flirtation and the occasional touches. You’ve never kissed him, despite how many times you’ve wanted to.

There was one time you almost let your desire get the better of you, right after the Club World Cup win in Abu Dhabi.

You were both caught up in the excitement of the win, and you’d been spending a lot of time together outside of work lately as Ben was recovering from his ACL injury and you wanted to support him as much as possible.

You knew it was hard for him not to be a part of the win that day, to have to watch from the sidelines as his team emerged victorious. So, you spent basically the entire day with him, sitting with him during the game and staying close by during the celebrations afterward.

Toward the end of the night, you ended up alone with him in a corner booth of the restaurant the club had rented out for the party. Nobody was paying much attention to the two of you, everyone still caught up in the excitement and dancing the night away.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Ben said, gazing at you intently as he set down his drink, which wasn’t his first of the night (or third or fourth).

“For what?” you asked a bit shyly. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve done everything,” he corrected quickly. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

You weren’t sure if he meant physically there in Abu Dhabi, as you were the one that had encouraged him to come, or where he was mentally in his recovery at the moment. You’d done everything you could to help him through it, but there was only so much you could do. You weren’t a doctor, or a time-traveller that could magically stop the injury from happening, or even his girlfriend. You were just a friend with no medical knowledge, trying to help without overstepping any boundaries.

You were just a girl who was head over heels for one of her best friends.

“Ben, I haven’t…I’m just being a friend,” you said softly. “You’re the one who’s faced this setback head-on, never complaining or giving up. And you’re almost there. I’m so proud of you.”

For a moment, you saw a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize, one that made your heart flutter uncontrollably. The next moment, Ben began to lean in, his eyes flickering to your lips, and you had never wanted anything so badly in your life as you wanted to kiss him.

But you knew you couldn’t. Not when he was drunk and vulnerable and had been relying on you for emotional support for months. He was sad and confused and you knew he would regret it in the morning, and you would regret letting yourself feel something that wasn’t real.

“I, um…” you muttered quickly, pulling away from him. “We should go to bed. Early flight home tomorrow.”

Ben just stared blankly at you for a moment. “Y/N, I’m sorry, I-I’ve just had too much to drink and-“

“Don’t worry about it, Chilly, seriously,” you said, reverting back to the nickname you’ve used for most of your friendship, worried that the if you spoke his first name right now, the pure adoration you harbour for him would come through in the way it left your tongue. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You quickly squeezed his shoulder as you got up from the table, making your way to the exit as stealthily as possible to avoid having to talk to anyone else.

The moment you got back to your hotel room, you cried over Ben Chilwell for the first time. You cried in a way you hadn’t even after breakups.

You cried because you knew he would never be yours, and you had to accept that.

That night was over a year ago now, and you and Ben never spoke a word about what nearly happened between you. There were certainly moments since where he looked at you with that same glint in his eye, and you allowed your mind to wander as to whether he was feeling some deeper for you, but these hopes were always quickly dashed when he went home with some model or bid you goodnight without acknowledging the tension between you.

You took the job at Sky, and started seeing him much less often, which wasn’t exactly intentional but wasn’t totally an accident, either. It certainly made your life easier not having to suppress your feelings for him at work everyday.

Until now.

Now, when he’s looking right at you with those eyes and you’ve never wanted anything more than to kiss him.

“Uh…” Ben looks at you and scratches the back of his neck. “It’s up to you-“

“Just do it, Chilly,” you say with a sudden burst of confidence and a bit of recklessness, turning on the couch to face him properly.

Something flashes in Ben’s eyes for a moment - maybe surprise, maybe pure elation - but he doesn’t take long to act on your instruction.

He grabs your face with both hands and leans in to kiss you firmly. He tastes a bit like beer, but he’s so warm and his lips are softer than you imagined - and you imagined them a lot.

Everyone cheers and hollers at the kiss, but you can hardly hear them while you’re so singularly focused on the feeling of Ben’s lips on yours.

It’s over before you can properly enjoy it, making you wish desperately that there weren’t so many people here and you could grab him and kiss him over and over again.

“That’s gonna be tough to beat,” Mason jokes from across the table as you and Ben are silently reeling from the kiss you just shared. “I think we should call the game, Soph.”

Everyone else murmurs in agreement, and they begin to get up to get more drinks or continue to chat. But you remain frozen in place, only able to move enough to glance over at Ben, who is still looking at you.

“Y/N,” Ben breathes your name. “I…”

“I should go,” you say quickly.

You immediately have deja vu to the night he nearly kissed you, how quickly you ran off, but this time is different - now that you know how good it feels to kiss him, there’s no way you can stay another moment in his presence without doing it again.

“Wait, please,” Ben says, gripping your hand before you can stand up. “Can I give you a lift home?”

“You’re driving?” you ask in confusion, knowing that even if he’s not fully drunk, he’s certainly not sober enough to drive a car.

“No, no, I’ll just get an Uber and have it drop you off first,” he insists. “Make sure you get home okay.”

You know it doesn’t really make sense logistically, as you live much farther away than he does, but you can’t resist the temptation of his soft voice or the way his thumb is caressing the back of your hand.

“Okay, sure.”

Ben gives you a small smile before pulling out his phone to call the car.

Once he’s ordered it, you both quickly grab your things and say your goodbyes, ignoring the curious looks and knowing smirks you get when you say you’re sharing an Uber.

Within five minutes, Ben is opening the door for you to climb into the back of a fancy black SUV, and then sliding in tantalizingly close to you.

You feel like you’re going to explode with desire for him.

“You alright?” Ben asks you after another minute has passed, and the look on his face gives you the sense that he’s been working up the courage to say something to you.

You nod, holding his gaze and trying to keep your heartbeat under control.

“Do you remember that night in Abu Dhabi, when we…”

You can feel your cheeks growing hotter as you nod, trying to process the fact that Ben not only remembers that moment between you but is choosing right now to bring it up.

“You were drunk,” you remind him.

“Yeah, but I still - I still meant it. And I still remember how gorgeous you looked that night. You always do, really, but-“

“Ben,” you cut him off, unable to hear another word from him if this is going to end the same way it did last time. “I think you’re drunk now, too.”

“I’m really not,” he says in a steady enough voice that you’re inclined to believe him. And, now that you think about it, you don’t think you saw him have more than a few beers all night. “Are you?”

You shake your head, managing only a small gulp in response as you meet Ben’s intense gaze.

“Y/N…” he says, barely above a whisper as he leans in closer. “Can I…”

“Your place,” you reply without a beat. Your brain is fogged by how much you want to kiss him again, but clear enough to know that once you start, you aren’t going to want to stop. “It’s closer than mine.”

Ben stares at you for another moment, just processing your words, before he nods and turns to the driver, asking him to skip the first address and go straight to his.

It’s only a ten minute drive from there, but you’re so full of nervous anticipation for what’s to come that it feels like hours.

By the time you pull up to his house and get out of the car, you still can’t quite believe what’s happening. Ben quickly unlocks the door and holds it open for you to enter his house. You haven’t been here in a while, but it’s as big as you remember it from all the times you’ve been here for a party or movie night.

It shouldn’t be awkward being here, except for the fact that you haven’t really been alone since the night of your almost-kiss. And the fact that your first actual kiss was less than an hour ago.

“Can I, erm-do you want some water?” Ben offers, gesturing to the kitchen.

You nod with a small, nervous smile and follow him into the next room.

The kitchen is dimly lit, the only light source coming from the hallway and the stove light as Ben grabs two glasses and fills them both with water. He passes one to you, and you thank him quietly before taking a sip.

“Been a while since you’ve been here,” he remarks, perhaps reliving all the same memories you have been since you walked through the door.

“I know,” you say, setting your glass down and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distant since I left Chelsea. It was just…easier.”

“I’m sorry if I fucked our friendship by trying to kiss you at the totally wrong time,” Ben says sincerely. “But honestly, I’m more sorry for not trying again since.”

That’s all it takes for you to take the few steps between you and crash your lips to his, immediately throwing your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

Ben stumbles in shock for a moment before his hands find your waist and he kisses you back with equal passion, backing you up against the kitchen island.

You moan slightly as he parts your lips with his tongue, tangling your fingers in his hair. Kissing him like this, with no restraint, is something you’ve craved for so long that you can hardly wrap your head around the fact that it’s happening.

You let out a small squeal of surprise as Ben’s hands move to your thighs and he hoists you up onto the counter, never breaking contact with your lips. Your legs subconsciously tighten around him, and the friction makes Ben groan into your mouth.

Kissing Ben is everything you dreamt it would be and more. No guy has ever made you feel a fraction of the way he is right now, and all you can think about is how good it would feel to have him inside you.

You know how badly you want him, and it’s pretty clear that he wants you just the same, but you have just enough sanity left to know that you can’t just be another one of the girls he’s slept with. You’ve liked him too much, and for too long, to be just another notch in his bedpost. This has to mean more to him, too.

“Ben,” you sigh, reluctantly breaking the kiss and feeling your heart palpitating as you open your eyes and see his swollen lips and dilated pupils. “I…I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Me too, baby,” he smiles, and the new pet name alone is almost enough to make you cave on the spot and kiss him again.

“I don’t just mean like this,” you say, hoping he understands what you mean. “I mean I want more with you. Something real.”

It’s the most terrifying moment of your life as you wait for him to respond, not sure what to expect. But when a wide grin breaks out on his face and he lets go of your waist to gently cup your face in both hands, your heart flutters uncontrollably.

“I want that too, Y/N,” he says softly. “I’ve wanted it from the moment I first saw you, in the hallway at Cobham my first time there. You were wearing that flowy white dress, and I was so nervous being there, but you just smiled at me and introduced yourself and I felt so…safe.”

“You remember what I was wearing?” you ask in astonishment, thinking back to your first encounter with him. You have a similar memory of thinking he was the fittest guy you’d ever seen and how you could get lost in his eyes for hours.

“Of course,” Ben smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, those same eyes sparkling. “And I remember thinking I couldn’t believe my luck that I signed for my dream club and met my dream girl on the same day.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes beginning to water from the heightened emotions you’re experiencing.

“I-I never knew you felt the same,” you breathe. “Why did you never…”

“At first, I didn’t want to ask you out because I thought it might be frowned upon at the club and I didn’t want to break any rules or do anything inappropriate,” Ben explains. “And then we became such good friends, I didn’t think you would feel that way about me. When I tried to kiss you in Abu Dhabi and you turned me down, I took that as your answer.”

“God, no, Ben, I wanted to let you kiss me so badly,” you sigh. “I just couldn’t take advantage of you. You were drunk and emotional about the injury and…”

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” Ben assures you, pecking your nose quickly. “Now we both know how we feel, right?”

You nod, resting your forehead against his for a moment and just taking this all in. You’ve wanted to be close to him like this for years, and to have it finally be a reality is almost too much to take.

“Kiss me again?” you ask quietly.

All you see is another quick flash of Ben’s grin before he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

It only takes a moment to escalate back to the same passion you were both displaying before, and Ben’s hands move back to your thighs to pull you closer to him again.

You can feel your desperation for him growing by the second as his tongue explores your mouth and his hands roam your body. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt and pull it upward without breaking the kiss, making Ben chuckle as he helps you in your effort to remove it and tosses it on the floor.

You immediately move your hands to his sides, feeling the toned muscles you’ve admired from afar all these years.

The sundress you’re wearing gives him easy access to where you need him most, and his hand is tantalizing close as it rests on your upper thigh.

“Ben, please,” you groan. “I want…can you-"

You’re interrupted by your own gasp of surprise as Ben tugs you closer and lifts you up off the counter. Your legs tighten around him reflexively, and the friction created makes you gasp again, this time in sheer pleasure.

“Been waiting too long for this to not do it properly,” Ben says, punctuating his sentence with another, softer kiss. “You wanna go upstairs?”

You just nod and shift slightly to try to get down, but Ben only tightens his grip on your thighs and begins to walk toward the stairs. You continue to exchange sloppy kisses as he ascends the staircase, and you’re turned on even more by the strength and ease with which he carries you up to his room.

He kicks open the door and gently lays you down on the bed before reaching over to flick on the lamp. You take a moment to take in your surroundings. Of all the times you’ve been in his house, you’ve never been in his bedroom. It’s cleaner than you expected, and a bit cozier and more lived-in than the rest of the house. There’s a book on his nightstand that you can’t quite make out the title of, and a photo of him and his family next to it.

It feels like Ben, and you feel completely at home.

Ben climbs over you and begins to kiss you again, and your hands immediately fly to his shorts to help take them off. Once they’re discarded and he’s in nothing but his boxers, you can feel how hard he is pressed up against you.

“Are you sure?” Ben asks softly, though you can see him biting his lip in anticipation as you lightly stroke him over the thin material.

You nod, maintaining eye contact as you quickly pull off your own underwear and toss them aside.

“I’m sure.”

Ben leans in to kiss you again, and you let out a sigh of pleasure as you let yourself surrender completely to the ecstasy of being with him.

“I can’t believe we waited this long to do this,” you sigh dreamily.

You’re curled up in Ben’s arms, lying with your head on his chest and an arm and a leg draped over him. You’re both still catching your breath a bit after the most perfect, mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had in your life. You always knew he would be good in bed, or at least you thought he would be, but he truly surpassed all of your expectations.

“I know,” Ben murmurs, pressing a reverent kiss to your temple. “I wish I had the courage to tell you sooner, but you’re so important to me. And a part of me also thought I would never have a shot with you.”

You prop your chin up on his chest to look him in the eye, furrowing your eyebrows. “You thought that you, a super fit, gorgeous footballer would never have a shot with me? Are you being serious?”

Ben nods shyly, as if he didn’t just go down on you until you were seeing stars and screaming his name in pleasure less than 30 minutes ago.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N, and you’re the smartest person I know,” he says, almost certainly making your cheeks redden. “You’re definitely out of my league.”

“Please, Ben, you spent the whole summer with Instagram models with perfect bodies,” you remind him, a bit ashamed of how insecure it made you seeing him all over social media with so many women you know you look nothing like.

He laughs softly before shaking his head and pressing a soft kiss to your nose. “No, my mates spent time with those girls who don’t compare to you at all while I sat around feeling sorry for myself and missing you.”

You can’t resist leaning in to kiss him firmly on the lips, your hand tangling in his messy hair. Your heart is so full of affection for this boy already that you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall even deeper for him than you already have.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing we waited,” you say when you break apart, your fingers still threaded through his hair. “We’re both a little older and more mature now, and we don’t work together anymore. If we’re going to do this, we should do it properly, right?”

Ben smiles sheepishly. “Does that mean you’re my girl now?”

You stiffen, a little surprised by his question even if it’s far from the biggest surprise you’ve gotten tonight.

“I, um-well, if you want-“

“You already know what I want, babe,” Ben says with a soft expression on his face. “I meant it when I said you’re my dream girl. I want everything with you, Y/N.”

“Alright,” you reply, a wide smile breaking out on your face as well. “Then I’m all yours, Chilwell.”

You both lean in for a kiss at the same time, giggling softly against each other’s lips. You’re so giddy that it’s actually a challenge to kiss him properly, soft moans mixed with the glorious sound of his laughter.

You don’t think you could ever get enough of this.

And as you drift off in Ben’s arms a bit later that night, after going another round and exchanging a few more soft goodnight kisses and tender words, you make a mental note to buy Sophia and Kai a really nice wedding present. You certainly owe them one.

a/n: please let me know what you thought of this, it makes my day getting feedback 💓 thank you for reading!

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #chelsea fc imagine #my fics

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