#Premier League champions

[bluemoon--10]

[nounoustouzy]

MANCHESTER CITY WALL CLOCK

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[sportworldtone]

Premier League Champions #Fc24 #Fcmobile #fifa

[guccigrealishh]

RODRIGOAL 👑

[oraltraditionfiction]

We listen and we don’t judge | MM7

Mason Mount x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: you and Mason do the 'we listen and we don't judge' challenge

Word Count: 370 word, short little blurb <3

Authors Note: tbh not tiktok people but we thought this was a cute prompt. this is my first fic ever, pls enjoy! -🦷

You set your phone up on the bathroom counter while Mason adjusts his hair in the mirror.

“What are we doing again,” he mumbles, distracted by a patch of spiky hair. 

“The we listen and we don’t judge thing,” you say as you adjust the phone, “people have been requesting it in my comments for weeks.” He nods, turning to kiss your cheek as you press record. 

“We listen and we don’t judge,” You clasp your hands together. “Mase, we have to say it together!”

He throws his hands up, breaking into a small smile. You turn back to the camera, “Okay, I’ll go first.” 

You turn to the camera and whisper conspiratorially, “Sometimes, when you’re at physio, I let the puppy on the couch.” He breaks into laughter, the two of you just barely managing to choke out “We listen and we don’t judge.”

Mason clears his throat and tries to supress a smile, “Sometimes instead of separating the laundry, I throw it all in at once.”

“Is that why my socks are pink?” You say in fake indignation. 

“We listen and we don’t judge,” the two of you chorus. Trying to remain composed, you choke out, “Sometimes when you talk about golf, I think about what we’re eating for dinner instead.” 

He turns to you with an overexaggerated pout, pausing to think for a moment. He turns away from you sheepishly, “One time while I was putting the dishes away, I broke two of your wine glasses and never told you.” 

Your eyes widen and you turn towards him, “You told me they were at the back of the cabinet!” 

“I’ll replace them eventually!” He protests, trying to wrap an arm around you. Looking at him with fake annoyance, you spit out, “Sometimes I eat in the bed when you aren’t home.”

At this, he looks at you horrified, “Babe, that’s disgusting…” You turn and hide your face. He takes this chance to say, “Sometimes after I put on my shoes and I forget something, I walk through the house with them on.” You whip your head around, your jaw dropped, “Mase!” 

The two of you break out laughing, his arms wrapping around you, the video long forgotten.

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 1)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist with secrets of her own. he becomes determined to break through the walls adeline has built around herself. but some wounds don’t heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: hey, everyone! this is the first chapter and i’m so happy to introduce you to mason & adaline's story. hope you like it! enjoy 🤍

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none

next: chapter 2

The locker room was buzzing with energy — voices overlapping, boots scuffing against the floor, the clap of a teammate hyping up the squad. It was the usual match routine, but to Mason, something felt off. He sat at his locker, elbows resting on his knees, staring at his feet. His stomach was tight, but not in the usual way. Normally, it was adrenaline, that restless hunger to get out on the pitch and play. This was different, it sat heavy in his chest.

Maybe it was just in his head. But it had been there for weeks now — like a weight he couldn’t lift. Since joining United, everything had felt harder. The pressure, the expectations, the constant questioning.

He already knew what people would say if he had another bad game.

“Mount struggling to find his place.”

“United’s number 7 failing to deliver.”

A hand clapped against his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

“You good?” Mason looked up to see Marcus Rashford standing over him, adjusting his captain’s armband. His expression wasn’t just casual concern — he was really looking at him, like he could tell something wasn’t right.

“Yeah. Just focused.” Mason forced a nod. 

“Focused, huh?” Marcus raised a brow. 

“I’m fine, mate.” Mason let out a quiet breath, shaking his head. 

“Alright. Let’s do this.” Marcus studied him for a second longer before giving him a firm pat on the back. 

The team gathered around as Ten Hag delivered his final words. “Stay compact in midfield. No sloppy passes, no hesitation. And Mason.” — his gaze locked onto him — “Be aggressive. No holding back tonight.”

Mason nodded, but the unease in his chest didn’t go away.

The first half was a battle. Manchester City were relentless, pressing high, moving the ball quickly. Mason was doing his best to keep up, but it wasn’t enough. He felt a step behind, his touches just a little off. Every mistake felt heavier, like it was adding to the weight pressing down on him.

Then, early in the second half, his moment came. A misplaced pass from City’s defense sent the ball rolling into open space. He sprinted forward, reaching for the ball — but, everything happened at once.

A body crashed into him, full force.

Rúben Dias.

Mason barely had time to think before he was sent flying. 

The pain was unbearable, his knee twisted violently before giving out completely, his body collapsing onto the grass. He gasped, his hands clutching his leg, but it was like a fire spreading through him, sharp and unrelenting. 

The noise of the crowd faded. His ears rang. The only thing he could focus on was the agony tearing through his body.

Then came the voices.

His name. Shouts for the medical team. Hands on his shoulder, his arm — steady, grounding. Rashford and Hojlund were crouched beside him, his face tight with worry.

“Mase, talk to me. You alright?” Rashford put his hand on Mason’s shoulder, but voice cut through the chaos — loud, sharp, and angry.

“What the fuck was that?”

Mason barely turned his head in time to see Rúben Dias standing a few feet away, arms raised, shouting at the referee. But he wasn’t apologizing — he was blaming him.

“He threw himself into it!” Rúben snapped, shaking his head. “That’s not on me!”

A wave of anger rolled through Mason’s teammates. Rashford was up in an instant, stepping toward Rúben. “What’s your problem?” he shot back. “He’s on the ground, mate. Have some fucking respect.”

Lisandro Martínez shoved past Rashford, glaring at Dias. “You’re not helping, Dias. Just walk away.” The referee quickly stepped between them, telling them to calm down, but Mason couldn’t focus on the argument. The paramedics were already beside him, voices low but urgent.

“How bad?” one asked.

“Looks like ligament damage. Possible tear.”

“Quick, we need to get him off now.”

Mason barely processed their words. His pulse pounded in his ears, the stadium lights too bright, the voices around him distant. The stretcher appeared beside him, and Mason barely registered the hands lifting him onto it.

This wasn’t happening.

He wasn’t supposed to go out like this. Not injured. Not like this.

As they carried him off, pain flaring with every small movement, the crowd’s noise became lower in the background. He shut his eyes, swallowing down the disappointment, the fear.

(...)

The ambulance ride was a blur of flashing lights and muffled voices. Mason lay flat on the stretcher, his body stiff, every bump in the road sending pain through his leg. His knee felt like it was on fire, a deep, throbbing ache spreading through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through it, but it wasn’t working.

“Hang in there, Mason. We’re almost there.” One of the paramedics hovered over him, adjusting the straps securing his leg.

“Male, twenty-six, severe knee trauma. Suspected ACL tear. Pulse stable, high-pain level.“ The other spoke into a radio, relaying updates ahead to the hospital.

ACL tear.

Mason clenched his jaw. He knew what that meant. Months out. Maybe longer.

He let out a shaky breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the stretcher. The sound of the sirens was distant, drowned out by the pounding in his head.

The ambulance doors swung open the moment they arrived at Manchester Royal Infirmary, one of the best hospitals in the city for sports injuries. Everything moved fast. Bright lights, rushed voices, the sharp scent of antiseptic.

“Took a direct hit before collapsing. Pain’s at a ten.” The paramedics wheeled him through the corridor, speaking to the medical staff waiting for them, prepared to do the scans.

The words barely registered. Mason felt lightheaded, the pain and exhaustion weighing him down. He barely reacted as they transferred him onto the hospital bed.

And then, finally, known voices.

“Mason!” His dad’s voice cut through the hallway.

Mason forced his eyes open, blinking against the brightness. His dad, Tony, was standing at the edge of the bed, his face tight with worry. His mom was beside him, arms crossed over her chest like she was physically holding herself together.

“We came as soon as we got the call.” Tony said, his voice steady, but Mason could see the concern behind his eyes.

“They think it’s my ACL.” Mason swallowed hard and the words felt heavy on his tongue. “I don’t know how bad.” Before they could say more, the doctor stepped in, holding a clipboard.

“Mason, we’ve reviewed your scans.” he said, flipping through the papers. “It’s a complete ACL tear.” He met Mason’s eyes. “You’ll need surgery.”

“Dear, God." his mom gasped. "And, the recovery?"

"It'll take at least six to eight months.” the doctor responded.

Silence.

Mason’s chest tightened. Six to eight months.

His season was over. His career, put on hold.

“We’ll get through this.” His dad pressed a firm hand on his shoulder.

Mason exhaled, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t go away. The pain in his knee was unbearable, but right now, the pain in his heart was worse. Suddenly, the disappointment of letting down, the fans, his teammates and his family was greater than anything else.

(…)

The sterile smell of the hospital still clung to the air, heavy and cold. Mason lay on the bed, staring up at the white ceiling, his mind swirling with frustration. The pain from his knee was a constant reminder of everything he’d lost in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t just the injury. It was the weight of the season ahead — the expectations he was expected to carry, the doubts creeping in after another setback. His career, his future, all of it felt uncertain now. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not like this.

The door opened with a soft creak, and the nurse entered, her steps light but confident. She had black hair and a name tag reading "Charlotte" clipped to her uniform. She smiled as she walked toward him, her eyes scanning the room before landing on Mason.

“Mr. Mount.” she said, her voice sweet, but with a touch of something more. “How are you feeling?”

“Same as before.” Mason barely looked at her, keeping his gaze on the ceiling.

Charlotte moved closer to adjust his IV, her touch is gentle, but there was something about it that felt a little too warm. Her fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, and as she finished, she smiled.

“I bet you didn’t expect your night to go like this. Right?” she said, her voice softer, a little flirtatious, though Mason wasn’t interested.

He could tell she was trying, but he wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone. Not right now.

“I’ve had better.” he replied flatly, still not looking at her. She laughed lightly, and Mason couldn’t help but feel like she was laying it on thick.

“You’re not gonna stay mad at me, are you?” she said, leaning in just a little, her words dripping with intent.

“Not mad. Just not in the mood.” He shifted uncomfortably, finally meeting her gaze, though it was more to put an end to the exchange than anything else.

She raised an eyebrow, her smile a little less subtle this time. “Well, if you need anything, I’m just down the hall.” she said, lingering for a moment longer before stepping back, lingering on him as she made her exit.

Mason couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. The last thing he needed was someone flirting with him when he could barely get a grip on his own thoughts. After a few minutes, the door opened again, and this time, it was his sister, Jaz, and her husband, Sam. Jaz had that look on her face — the one that always came when she knew something wasn’t right, her worry barely hidden beneath a smile as she walked toward him.

“Mase.” she said softly, pulling up a chair next to his bed. “How’re you holding up?”

Mason turned his head toward her, but his expression remained guarded.

“Just another day.” he replied, though it didn’t sound convincing even to him.

Jaz sat down next to him, her eyes full of concern as she studied him. Her hand reached out, brushing his. “I know this has been tough on you.” she said quietly. “I can see it, Mase. I know what leaving Chelsea did to you... and now this.” Her voice cracked a little, but she quickly recovered, squeezing his hand. Mason didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t in the mood to explain. He wasn’t in the mood for pity.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

Jaz didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, she leaned in, her voice low and gentle.

“You don’t have to be fine, Mase. Not with me. Not with Sam. We’re here. Always.”

“You know we’ve got your back. Whatever happens.” Sam, standing at the door with his arms crossed, nodded in agreement.

Mason felt a surge of gratitude for them, but it was mixed with anger. He didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want them to see him like this. He hated feeling weak. But Jaz wasn’t having it. She pulled him into a tight hug, resting her cheek against his.

“I know things haven’t been easy for you.” she whispered. “Leaving Chelsea... coming to Manchester. It’s a big change. But you’ve always been strong. You’ll get through this. I know you will.”

For a moment, Mason didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable, especially not with his sister, but the warmth of her embrace made him realize how much he needed this. How much he needed them.

He hugged her back, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I just... I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I don’t know if I can keep going.”

Jaz pulled back slightly, her eyes soft with understanding.

“Mase, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But don’t give up on yourself.” The words hung in the air, and Mason found himself lost in them, his walls starting to crumble a little.

(...)

Adeline stood in the kitchen, wiping down the countertops as the evening light dimmed outside. The small flat in the heart of Manchester felt quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that only settled in after Lilith had gone to bed. The last few hours had been spent in the usual routine — dinner, playtime, bedtime stories.

Adeline couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Lilith was the light of her life, the reason she kept going even on the toughest days.

She had fought for Lilith before she was even born, through sleepless nights filled with doubt, through the suffocating fear of wondering how she would do it alone. The father had never been in the picture — he hadn’t wanted to be — and she had long stopped caring. What she had gained was far greater than what she had lost.

Lilith was her heart walking outside her body.

Every sacrifice, every long shift, every moment of exhaustion was worth it.

And it wasn’t just about being a mother. She loved her job, too.

Physiotherapy wasn’t just a career — it was something she was passionate about, something she had worked relentlessly for. Helping people heal, watching them rebuild their strength, seeing them step back into the life they thought they’d lost — it was fulfilling in a way nothing else was.

She had climbed her way up, studying late into the night after putting Lilith to bed, taking extra certifications while balancing work and motherhood. It hadn’t been easy. But she was good at what she did.

She remembered the early days of motherhood, when everything had felt so uncertain. There was a time when she had been terrified — terrified of raising Lilith on her own, terrified of how hard it would be. But there was also a moment, after months of sleepless nights and endless worry, when she’d found the strength to tell herself, don’t give up on yourself. She had whispered those words like a promise, a way to keep her head above water.

Now, years later, she repeated that phrase whenever things got tough. It wasn’t easy, but she had made a life for herself and for Lilith, one small step at a time.

“Mum? Mum!” Her thoughts were interrupted by a small voice from the hallway when Lilith called, her little voice muffled from her bedroom. “Mum, I can’t sleep.”

Adeline dried her hands quickly and moved toward the door, calling out gently, “I’m coming, Lily.”

Lilith was curled up in her bed, clutching her stuffed bunny. “I had a bad dream.” she mumbled, holding out her arms.

Adeline bent down to scoop her daughter up, cradling her in her arms. “What happened, darling?” she asked, brushing a lock of hair from Lilith’s forehead.

“I dreamed the bunny got lost.” she said softly. “Can we keep him close?”

“Of course, my love.” Adeline smiled and settled them both under the covers, letting Lilith snuggle into her arms. “He’s safe now, I promise. No one’s taking him.”

As she laid there, her phone buzzed from the kitchen counter, the vibration loud in the quiet room. Adeline’s eyes fluttered open, and she reluctantly got herself away from Lilith, tucking the blanket around her daughter before heading back to the kitchen.

She frowned when she saw the name of your boss, Dr. Hearst, on the screen. It was nearly 11 p.m. What could he want this late?

“Dr. Hearst?” She answered quickly.

“Adeline, I’ve got an opportunity for you. A big one.” His voice came through steady, direct.

She straightened. “I’m listening.”

“Mason Mount came in tonight. Complete ACL tear. Manchester United is assembling a team to handle his recovery, and they need the best physiotherapist for the job.” Adeline was not a football enthusiast, she’s heard his name a few times, but that’s it.

“And… you’re saying that’s me?”

“Yes. You’re the most qualified in our department, especially with your postgrad in sports injuries. I vouched for you.”

“I appreciate that, but-” Adeline hesitated, gripping the edge of the counter.

“I know what you’re thinking.” he cut in. “But, listen. They’re offering serious money. More than double your salary. This isn’t just about your career, Adeline. This is about securing a future — for you and Lilith.”

Lilith.

Adeline’s gaze flickered toward the closed bedroom door, where her daughter was sleeping soundly, unaware of the weight pressing on her mother’s shoulders.

“When do they need an answer?” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair.

“Tomorrow morning. We’re finalizing the medical team, If you want in, be at the hospital by eight.”

A beat of silence passed.

Adeline swallowed. “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too long.” Dr. Hearst warned. “This is the kind of chance that doesn’t come twice.”

She ended the call and stood there for a moment, staring at her phone.

Footballers. She’d heard enough stories from her colleagues — entitled, arrogant, difficult to work with. But…

She glanced at Lilith’s door again.

This wasn’t just about her. This was about her daughter’s future.

And Adeline always put Lilith first.

(...)

[pernillecfcw]

A Chelsea 2021 champions league winning team reunion 🥹💙

[fast-andthe-curious]

I was feeling a little silly so i had to make this

happy holidays yall <3

[raphoupix]

Jakub Kiwior - Arsenal FC

[eijiostudio]

More at X : eijio_art

[meazalykov]

jamal musiala is in love

jamal musiala x reader headcannons

warning: 18+ nsfw mentions

❀⋆ Jamal was pulled to you the moment he laid eyes on you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you since he found you stunning. I can imagine this being at a party or event setting. He asks Alphonso or Tel if they’ve known you, but both of them don’t. Eventually, he gets the courage to walk up to you and engage in a conversation with you since he realizes that none of his close teammates know you well enough to be his wingman. 

❀⋆ He is not the person that will move quickly into a relationship with you. The starboy is too focused on football to make you a priority just shortly after he met you. This doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about you or doesn’t want to be with you. He knows he wants to be with you, but Jamal is patient, doesn’t want to rush things, and knows good things take time. 

❀⋆ A year after the two of you met for the first time, he asks you to be his girlfriend. You were shocked, as you started to slowly lose hope that he would want a relationship while he focused on his football career. He promised you that he likes you a lot and does have time outside of Bayern to spend time with you, since you both live in Munich. 

❀⋆ The Bayern Munich star is secretive and reserved. He doesn’t want the media to get a hold of his relationship with you. He loves you so much and shows you off on his small private account with his close friends and family who follow, but he knows what the public could do to relationships. 

❀⋆ This doesn’t mean that the media will never get a hold of it. One day, a German gossip reporter posted to instagram that they’ve received a tip on the relationship between the both of you. Other gossip pages tagged along with this rumor. You’re an influencer who gained a huge following from (your favorite interest) so people immediately shipped the two of you and couldn’t believe it.

❀⋆ Jamal is obsessed with you and is your number one supporter (and vice versa). He always texts you goodmorning/goodnight, brushes/combs your hair, compliments you, loves massaging your feet and hands, he cooks your favorite foods, loves cuddling with you, applies your skincare on your face when you’re too tired to do so, and helps you put your jacket on when you’re heading to an event with him. Clearly, Jamal's love language is acts of service and quality time. 

❀⋆ When you’ve met his mother for the first time, six months after becoming his girlfriend, she loved you like her second daughter. You’ve engaged in daily conversations with her about things that reminded her of you, you visited her by yourself without Jamal sometimes, and the two of you engaged in things like going shopping, getting manicures, and more fun activities. Jamal appreciates your close relationship with his mom because he prioritizes his family too and wants you involved with them. 

❀⋆ Jamal loves wearing the clothing brand Supreme. You’ve noticed this throughout your relationship with him, since he has an interesting choice in fashion. For two weeks, you went to New York City to visit your best friends who didn’t live in Munich. Throughout this time, you’ve missed him so much. 

❀⋆ One day in the city, you walked along the street with your friends and saw a Supreme store. Your eyes light up and you’ve pulled your friends into the store with you. The two girls were confused about your actions since you didn’t wear Supreme at all. Once they’ve noticed that you’re shopping for men’s clothes, they’ve realized what you’re doing. You went back to Germany and gave Jamal all of the stuff you’ve gotten him. 

❀⋆ “Awe baby you shouldn’t have”  he softly spoke as his soft lips made contact with your forehead. 

❀⋆ “But I wanted to!” You blushed as you gave him a tight hug. 

❀⋆ The both of you have a healthy sex life that is driven with love and affection. The first time you’ve both had sex, the two of you were drunk off of beer (#Germany). At first, you felt ashamed since this happened before things were official between the two of you. You were nervous that he would’ve left you since many people had that stereotype about footballers. However, he reassured you that he was head-over-heels for you and isn’t leaving you. The both of you started having sex regularly shortly after the relationship was official. The boy goes crazy at the sight of you bended over in-front of him, your droopy eyes as his face is in-between your legs, and your lips struggling to kiss his during missionary due to moaning. 

❀⋆ The king of aftercare. He will never leave you to fend for yourself after making you finish. He loves running a bath for the both of you where he sits behind you, he will give you nice cold water to drink, and he does his best to take care of you. 

❀⋆ Jamal is motivated when he's playing for Bayern. However, he goes crazy when he sees you in the crowd watching him. He believes that you’re a good luck charm and loves seeing you have his name and number on your back during the times you wear his jersey.

❀⋆ He is obsessed with kisses. He could fall asleep feeling your lips kiss over his forehead, cheeks, lips, and neck. He can’t get enough of you. It's the same way you’re obsessed with his arms and hair. 

❀⋆ Jamal would trade the world for your happiness. He loves you and you two have a great long life together <3

[blondie20000]

Champion - Jack Grealish x Reader

Set after the UCL final.

Manchester City have won the Premier League.

Manchester City have won the FA Cup.

Manchester City have won the Champions League.

Manchester have completed the treble. They did it!

This event was historic not only have they become one of the clubs to complete the treble but also they have won the Champions League for the first time in the club's history.

It was an event that deserved to be celebrated.

When the final whistle went off Jack cried out with happiness. He collapsed on the ground and the tears flowed down his cheeks. His team mates came over and hugged him.

You felt your own tears fall as you watched Jack being interviewed shortly after.

"This is what I have worked for my whole life!" He said his voice cracking with emotion.

Once the interview was done you ran on to the pitch and went straight into Jack's arms. You hugged him, kissed him and congratulated him on the win. Jack couldn't speak instead he broke down in your arms and cried again. You rubbed his back and waited for him to get his emotions under control. Eventually Jack takes a deep breath and calms down.

"I can't believe we did it." He said with disbelief in his voice.

You brush his tears away with your thumb.

"I knew you would do it." You said with a nod. "I believed you I believed in all of you."

Jack presses his head against yours. You can feel his body trembling slightly against yours.

"God I..." Jack shakes his head. "I can't..."

"Shh."

You gently wrap your arm around him. You can see the tears forming in his eyes again. Jack is a sensitive soul, he gets emotional easily. You can still remember how nervous he was last night anxiously pacing up and down their room.

"What if I mess up? What if we lose cuz of me."

"Jack."

"I nearly cost us the FA Cup!"

You can still remember the look he gave you when he said that. The fear and guilt in his eyes was heartbreaking to look at. You assured him it wasn't his fault but Jack wouldn't let it go.

"If it wasn't for Gundo...Argh fuck!"

"Jack!"

You had be his rock last night. You had to give him the strength he so desperately needed.

Here now you had to be his rock again you knew in time Jack will break down again. You held on to him tight as you led him off the pitch. You took him somewhere private where he can compose himself and relax.

"I'm sorry." He shakes his head. "I must sound like a right wuss."

"Never." You kiss him on the cheek and run your fingers through his hair. "That's one thing you are not."

Jack blows out a sigh. He sits back and runs a hand down his face.

"Okay." He nods. "I think the water tank is empty now."

You laughed at that.

He brings his hand to your cheek and smiles.

"Thank you."

You smile back. Eventually you clear your throat.

"Shall we join the others?"

"Yeah we better they will wonder where we have gone."

"With you anything is possible." You chuckled.

"Hey I'm not that bad."

"Hmm." You tapped your chin and grinned.

Then laughter comes out of you as you run out of the room with Jack chasing you from behind.

.........

The Man City players all gathered around with their family and friends in the hotel to party all night long.

Jack stood on one of the tables with a beer in one hand and a microphone in the other.

"YOU'RE MY WONDER-WALL!" He sang loudly.

You chuckled. Jack was off key as usual. Despite singing terribly You enjoyed his performances. You loved the way his eyes lit up when the song came on, the way his smile grew as he reached the chorus and the way he threw his arms out as he hit the high notes the sight of it was both amusing and cute.

"Hey Y/N!" He reaches out towards You. "Come up here and sing with me."

You shook your head.

"I'm good."

Jack wouldn't let it go that easily. He leans forward slightly. He nearly fell of the table but Walker managed to grab him and pull him back up.

"Easy there mate." Walker said with amusement in his eyes.

"I wasn't going to fall." Jack waves his arms. "I had it all under control."

"Sure." Stones laughed as he sipped his beer.

"This one here is a menace." Haaland says as he gestures to your boyfriend.

"Ya think we are going to need some bodyguards for him. Make sure he stays out of trouble." Walker grinned.

"Well Haaland is tall enough." Stones nodded.

"And Walker is fast enough." Haaland grinned back.

"Ah sorry mate babysitting is not for me." Walker replied.

"I thought the job role was a bodyguard." You laughed.

"You did say that." Stones laughed along with you.

"They are the same." Walker argued.

"Hmm..." Everyone looked at each other. "...Na."

You and the footballers laughed. Meanwhile Jack carefully climbs off the table. He walks up to you with the microphone still in his hand.

"One song...Please?"

He gave you his best puppy eyes expression. You groaned. You could never say no to that face.

"Fine one song."

He smiles and takes your hand. Haaland helps you on the table. The song comes on. A cheesy song in fact. You again groaned but Jack happily puts his arm around you and begins to sing. You joined in with him. You both screamed when you reached the chorus. Everyone responded with a cheer and a clap as we finished the song.

Jack jumps off the table and opens his arms out to you.

"I won't let you fall." He promised you.

"I'll be here just in case." Stones joked as he joined his team mate.

You hesitated for a few moments. Then you said.

"Fuck it!"

You jump off the table. Jack catches you and spins you around. You squealed in delight as Jack went faster and faster. Seconds later he stops and gently puts you down. He then leans forward and kisses you on the lips.

That earned a few whistles from the players.

"Oi get a room you two!" Walker yelled.

You scoffed at that. Jack turns to his team mate and grins.

"I think I will."

...........

As soon as the door to your room was closed Jack immediately had his lips on yours. He kissed you passionately. The hunger he had for you all came pouring out into the kiss. You respond and kiss him back. Then you raise your hand and stop him.

"Wait." You gesture to his body. "Take off your shirt."

His lips tug upwards into a smirk.

"So we are playing that game huh?"

You smirked at him.

"It's a surprise."

He raises his eyebrow at that.

"Oh."

He removes his shirt.

"Now give it to me."

He tosses the shirt over to you.

"Wait here I'll just be a sec."

You go in the bathroom and close the door.

Jack sits on the bed and waits for you. A few minutes later you come out. When Jack's eyes go on you he gasps.

"You are wearing my shirt?"

You walk slowly over to him. You sway your hips in a seductive way.

"I am." You lean forward and whisper in his ear. "And I have nothing under it."

Jack held his breath as your words hit him.

"Now." You grin at him. "I want you to fuck me in the shirt you wore playing for your club the shirt you wore in the final. I want you to fuck me right here right now."

Something snapped in Jack then. He didn't need to be told twice.

You squealed as Jack grabs you by the waist and lies you down on the bed.

Shortly after Jack quickly removes the rest of his clothes and joins you on the bed. You open your legs out for him. A growl escapes Jack's throat as he eyes you up and down.

"Blue suits you." He says. He goes under the shirt and caresses your breasts. "Really really suits you."

"I know." You replied sounding smug.

Seconds later you gasp as Jack's tongue enters you. He licks you up and down. He sucks on your folds. His tongue rolls around your entrance all the way up to your thighs. He continued to do that until he reached the bottom of your belly.

"You taste so sweet." He kisses your belly button and smiles. "I can't get enough of it."

It wasn't long before Jack was back down there teasing you again.

"Fuck!" You cursed as he hit a sensitive spot.

That only encouraged him to push his tongue in even further. Each stroke sent a a jolt of electricity through you. You wanted to bring your legs in but Jack's board shoulders stopped you from doing that. So you bit your lip and shuddered as Jack fucked you with his tongue.

His wet tongue brushing against your warm sweaty skin made you groan and you found yourself begging for more.

"Argh Jack!"

But Jack declined your request. He removes his tongue and goes back on top of you again. You whimpered at the loss of contact.

"Now." He said his voice stern. "Turn over."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Turn over?"

"I want to see my name."

His eyes are darken and his hands are clenched tight. You saw sweat already starting to form on his brow. Right now Jack looked like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. You thought that was so fucking hot.

"Sure sweetie." You teased him.

You grin as you roll on to your back. Jack caresses your bum and your thighs. He teased your entrance as he kissed your neck. You then felt his fingers trailing along the letters on the back of the shirt.

"You know what this says?" He asks.

"I do." You answered.

"What does it say?"

"Grealish."

Jack presses himself against you.

"And what's my name?" He asked his voice husky.

"Jack Grealish."

"And what am I?" He asked his accent becoming more board and heavy. You almost lost control by it.

"Y/N?"

"A champion! " You said with a sharp intake of breath. "You are a champion! "

You can feel the smirk growing on his face.

"You are right I am a champion. Hearing those words from you... that sounded so fucking good!"

You can feel his dick pressing up against your ass now. He is hard.

You smirked at that.

"Say it again." He ordered.

"A champion."

He growled at that. The growl sent a wave of goosebumps through you.

Damm!

"You know what this champion is going to do? This champion is going to fuck you until you wouldn't be able to stand."

You tensed up at that. The feeling of excitement started to rise inside you.

Suddenly you gasp as he goes inside you. He completely stretched you and touched places you didn't even know existed from this angle.

"Good babe good." Jack nodded as he went further inside you.

At first Jack started off slow. Eventually he picks up the pace and starts to thrust you hard.

You grip the sheets as each thrust hits you. A series of curses come spilling from your lips. At one point you buried your head into the pillow to stop yourself from screaming but Jack wouldn't have that Jack wanted to hear those sounds from you.

"Nah uh." He shakes his head. "I want to hear you love I want to hear you scream my name."

Jack grabs you by the ponytail and lifts your head up. His hold is tight but it wasn't uncomfortable. He kisses your neck again and around your ear. His lips on your skin made you moan with pleasure. You strain your neck to give him better access.

"You like that?" He breathed in your ear.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Jack."

"Jack what?" He is smiling against your cheek. You roll your eyes and laugh.

"Jack...The champion. "

His smile turns into a cocky grin. He grabs on to your waist tight which you are sure is going to leave bruises later and he goes faster.

"JACK!" You screamed his name out loud.

"That's it love." His grin widens. "Just like that."

You increase your hold on the sheets. You held them so tight your knuckles started to turn white.

You can feel that familiar fire at the bottom of your belly. You knew you are close.

"J...Jack." You said through clenched teeth. "I need to...I need to...AHHHH!"

Your cry made him moan.

"Fuck Y\N!"

Hearing that from him made you shake. You are going to have it let it out soon you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Please." You begged him.

He strokes your back where the letters were and said.

"Go on babe."

You didn't need to be told twice. You cry out as you let it all out. Shortly after Jack followed. He then slumps against you and takes a shaky breath.

"Fuck." He muttered into your back.

Once Jack moves away you sigh and turn on to your side. Your legs are still trembling. Jack comes towards you and wraps you in his arms. You breathe in his scent and find yourself relaxing in his arms.

"That was amazing." Jack smiles at you. "Thanks for the idea Y\N."

You smile back at him.

"No problem...Hey Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"You know I'm proud of you right?"

He lifts his head to look at you.

"I know." He whispered.

Your smile widens.

"I will always be proud of you. My champion."

He grins at that.

"I am never going to get bored of that."

You laugh.

"I know."

He kisses your lips. His eyes shone with love.

"I love you Y/N."

You kiss him back.

"And I love you too Jack Grealish..."

You grin.

"...The champion."

The End

[nounoustouzy]

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[divingsave]

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celebs - they're just like us (they don't want mo, virg or trent to leave)

[oraltraditionfiction]

"I wanted to keep dating her" | MM7

Mason Mount x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: you and Mason have a disagreement about how to cut sandwiches

Word Count: 358 words

Authors Note: inspired by this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODATQFxkk9Y. I had a lot of fun with this one, please enjoy! -🦷

You were lying on the couch, tucked under a blanket scrolling through social media, when a video of Mason caught your eye. It appeared to be an official Premier League video reposted by a fan account. Clicking on the caption, you smile softly as you read, he is soooo adorable talking about his gf <3333. The video restarts and you pay attention to the question being asked: “How would you cut a sandwich?”

Mason blinks and pauses for a moment, “Well… personally, I don’t mind eating it whole. I’ve never really understand the controversy. My girlfriend has strong opinions though.”

He pauses with a laugh, eyes crinkling, “I remember when we first started dating, I made her a sandwich, and I watched her cut it into triangles before she ate it. I was so confused, and then she looked up at me and told me that sandwiches always need to be cut into triangles. I just agreed because I wanted to keep dating her, but now if I don’t cut her sandwich into triangles, it becomes a whole conversation about sandwich shapes.” 

You hold back a laugh before calling for him, “Mase!”

A few moments later he pokes his head in, mild confusion written on his face. An eyebrow furrowed, you hold yourself back from going to kiss his cheek. “What’s this about sandwich shapes, I hear?” you ask, humor in your voice. 

His face flushes slightly, “Babe, that was months ago.” He moves towards you, pulling you into his chest. You squirm slightly, holding back laughter. 

“I refuse to be dating a man who won’t admit that triangles are the best sandwich shape!” you say, your voice muffled by his sweatshirt. You feel his chest shake slightly as he holds back a laugh. 

“What difference does it make?! It’s all a sandwich,” he jokingly remarks. You raise your head looking at him with an exaggerated expression of sadness. 

“Alright, alright…” he concedes, “How about this, we can each ask our followers what they think and whoever wins is correct.”

Your face breaks into a smile, and he grins down at you, leaning in for a soft kiss. 

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 2)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist with secrets of her own. he becomes determined to break through the walls adeline has built around herself. but some wounds don’t heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: hiiii, guys! this is the chapter where mason and adeline meet each other for the first time, any expectations? let me know in the comments and enjoyyy 🤍

word count: 2.6k

warnings: angst.

next: chapter 3

Morning came too quickly.

Mason woke up to the distant beeping of machines and the quiet atmosphere of hospital activity, outside his door. His entire body felt heavy, weighed down by the lingering effects of the painkillers, but none of it compared to the dull, throbbing ache in his knee. It was still wrapped up tight, immobilized, a sharp reminder of what had happened.

He reached for his phone, blinking against the brightness of the screen. His notifications were flooded — messages, mentions, articles. He ignored most of them, but his fingers hovered over a few texts from teammates, friends, even some old Chelsea mates checking in. He wasn’t in the right headspace to respond.

Instead, he scrolled through the latest updates about his injury. The headlines all read the same.

"Mason Mount faces lengthy spell out after brutal challenge from Rúben Dias."

"Man United’s number 7 out for months — What does this mean for the team?"

"Mount’s future uncertain after devastating knee injury."

He locked his phone with a frustrated sigh. It was all speculation, but that didn’t make it any easier to stomach. He didn’t need journalists telling him what he already knew — this injury was bad. His return wasn’t guaranteed.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts, and before he could answer, Dr. Hearst stepped inside. He looked as put-together as always — calm, professional, a clipboard in hand. Behind him followed a small group of nurses.

Mason immediately recognized one of them — the one from last night. — The way she smiled at him made it obvious she expected him to remember her, and unfortunately, he did. She’d been overly friendly before, and now, as she put a stray strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a suggestive look, it was clear she wasn’t about to tone it down.

"Morning, Mason." Dr. Hearst greeted. "How are you feeling?"

Mason set his phone down. "Same as last night."

Dr. Hearst nodded like he expected that answer. "The surgery went as well as it could have. No surprises. But as we discussed, the hard part starts now." He glanced down at his clipboard. "You’ll remain here for observation for the next few days. If all goes smoothly, we’ll move you to home recovery, where you’ll begin physiotherapy immediately."

Mason just nodded, keeping his expression unreadable.

Dr. Hearst gestured to the nurses. "This is the team that will be looking after you while you're here. They’ll monitor your pain levels, assist with mobility, and ensure the post-surgery goes well."

The nurse called Charlotte stepped forward slightly, a small smirk on her lips.

“If you need anything, just press the call button.” she said, voice soft. “Even... if you just want a bit of company.”

Mason kept his face neutral, but internally, he sighed. This wasn’t the time or the place for that.

Dr. Hearst didn’t acknowledge the moment, just continued flipping through his notes. “As for your rehabilitation, we’ve assigned you a physiotherapist. She’s one of the best in the field and has experience with high-performance athletes. You’ll be working with her both here and during your home recovery.”

Mason exhaled slowly, already bracing himself for whatever this was going to be. He’d worked with plenty of physiotherapists before — some great, some who treated players like projects instead of people. Right now, all of this felt like a headache waiting to happen.

"Where is she?" he asked, more out of obligation than interest.

Dr. Hearst checked his watch. "She should be here soon."

Mason’s jaw tightened slightly. She’s late. What a way to start!

"Until then, get some rest." the doctor continued. "You'll need it."

Mason didn’t reply. He just leaned back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for whatever came next.

(…)

“Don’t give up on yourself.”

The words echoed in Adeline’s mind as she stood in her small kitchen, putting pancakes on a plate with one hand, while tying her hair into a loose ponytail with the other. She had said that to herself years ago, back when she thought her dreams had shattered. Back when she found out she was pregnant and alone at twenty-two. But she hadn’t given up. She had fought, she had worked, she had pushed through sleepless nights and exhausting shifts.

And now, she was here.

A job she loved. A daughter she adored. A life that, despite its chaos, was hers.

“Mummy, Hazel doesn’t like pancakes.”

Lilith’s voice pulled her back to the present.

Adeline glanced over at the kitchen table, where her three-year-old daughter sat, swinging her legs under the chair. In front of her was her plate with pancakes, and next to it — propped up against her cup — was Hazel, her well-loved stuffed rabbit.

Adeline suppressed a smile. “She doesn’t? What does she want instead?”

“Toast. With jam.” Lilith said seriously, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Adeline sighed, checking the time. They were already running late.

“How about Hazel shares with you?” she bargained.

Lilith thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But only a little bit.”

As her daughter scooped up a spoonful of pancakes— making sure Hazel was ‘watching’ — Adeline turned back to the counter. Her phone sat next to the kettle, the screen dark, but her mind was still on last night’s call.

Dr. Hearst’s proposition.

Mason Mount.

The job offer was huge. Working with a Premier League footballer recovering from a serious injury wasn’t just another patient — it was a career-making opportunity. The kind that could open doors for her.

And the money…

Her grandmother had been helping her for years, but Adeline hated relying on her. She wanted to stand on her own two feet, to give Lilith everything she needed without worrying about bills stacking up.

But could she handle working with someone like him? Footballers had a reputation. She’d heard the stories. Some were arrogant, entitled, difficult to work with. The last thing she needed was another stress added to her plate.

“Mummy, you’re thinking again.”

Adeline blinked, looking over at Lilith, who was watching her with a knowing look.

"I think you're getting too smart for me." She huffed a quiet laugh, walking over and pressing a kiss to her curls.

Lilith grinned. “I know.”

Adeline glanced at the clock — 7:20AM. They needed to leave in ten minutes. The next few moments were chaos — Adeline gulping down a quick cup of tea while pulling on her coat, Lilith insisting Hazel needed her own ‘jacket’ (which ended up being a small pink scarf), a last-minute search for Adeline’s work bag. By the time they stepped out of their flat, the morning air was crisp, the sky still a pale blue. Their building was small, tucked in a quiet part of Manchester, where everyone knew each other.

“Morning, Adeline!” Mrs. Patel, their elderly neighbor, stood by her door, holding a cup of tea.

“Morning, Mrs. Patel."

“Good morning!” Lilith chirped, waving excitedly.

The old woman beamed. “And how’s my little sunshine today?”

Lilith giggled. “We’re going on the train!”

“Well, have lovely day, sweetheart.” Mrs. Patel smiled.

Adeline smiled in thanks before gently pulling Lilith along. “Come on, darling, we need to hurry.”

Lilith, as always, made sure to say hello to every dog they passed before they finally made it to the Underground station. The train was packed, but Lilith didn’t mind. She stood on her tiptoes, gripping the pole with her hands and eyes wide with excitement.

They reached the daycare just before 7:50AM, as soon as they stepped inside, a familiar voice called out.

“Let me guess. Late again?”

Adeline turned to see Stella, Lilith’s teacher and her best friend, smirking from the doorway.

Adeline groaned. “Don’t start.”

Stella smirked. “That bad?”

Adeline hesitated, then sighed. “Dr. Hearst called me last night. He wants me to take over Mason Mount’s recovery. I didn’t sleep all night thinking about it.”

Stella’s eyes widened. “Mason Mount? As in — Mason Mount from Manchester United?”

Adeline nodded.

Stella whistled. “Bloody. Hell.”

“Yeah.”

“So… are you taking it?”

Adeline exhaled. “I don’t know.”

Stella gave her a look. “Don’t be daft. You know you’d be stupid to say no.”

Adeline hesitated.

“It’s the Premier League, Ady. And imagine the pay. You could finally move out of that tiny flat.”

Adeline glanced at Lilith, who was too busy helping another child put their backpack away to listen.

The money. The stability.

Lilith deserved the best.

“I’ll do it.” Adeline sighed.

Stella grinned. “There’s my girl.”

Adeline shook her head, pressing a quick kiss to Lilith’s forehead. “Be good for Auntie Stella, okay?”

Lilith nodded. “Promise!”

As Adeline turned to leave, she glanced at the clock— 8:20AM.

Shit.

She was late.

She practically ran out the door, rushing toward the Underground, weaving through people on the platform, her mind now set. She had made her decision. Now, she just had to face it.

(...)

Adeline pushed through the hospital’s revolving doors, barely stopping to acknowledge the receptionist’s greeting with a quick nod. Her trainers squeaked against the polished floor as she moved through the familiar halls, the scent of disinfectant and freshly brewed coffee filling the air.

“Morning, Ady.” a nurse called as she passed.

“Morning!” she responded, barely slowing her pace.

She took the lift up to the higher floors, mentally preparing herself as the number climbed. She had spent years working here, but this was the first time she’d been summoned to the suites — the section reserved for celebrities, footballers, and anyone else who could afford to heal in luxury. The moment she stepped out of the lift, she was met with silence. The usual chaos of the hospital — the chatter, the hurried footsteps, the beeping machines — faded into a muted hum. Everything here was polished. Too clean. Too controlled.

Of course, she thought.

It was obvious. A player like Mason Mount wouldn’t be in a normal recovery wing, would he?

A part of her rolled her eyes at the thought, though she quickly shoved that feeling aside. It didn’t matter what she thought of his status or the special treatment — her job was to help him recover.

She took a steadying breath before knocking on Dr. Hearst’s office door.

“Come in.” she heard the familiar voice.

Dr. Hearst was sitting behind his desk, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he flipped through a file. He glanced up, giving her a small nod.

“Adeline!” he said. “Glad you could make it.”

She forced a smile. “Would’ve been here sooner, but the Underground had other plans.”

“That’s London for you.” Dr. Hearst smirked.

Adeline didn’t correct him — technically, it was Manchester’s Metrolink, but she wasn’t in the mood to get into it.

He gestured for her to sit, but she remained standing. She was already late.

He sighed, closing the file and folding his hands over it. “I won’t waste your time. You’ve got a big job ahead of you. Mason’s ACL surgery went as expected, but it’s a long road to recovery. The club is throwing every resource at this, and you’re the most important piece of it.”

“No pressure, then.”

His lips twitched. “He’s not in the best headspace right now, as you can imagine. You’ll have to be patient.”

Adeline nodded, even as doubt pricked at her.

“How do you feel about all this?” Dr. Hearst leaned back in his chair.

She hesitated for a beat. “It’s an incredible opportunity,” she admitted. “But… let’s just say I’ve heard stories about players not taking well to physiotherapists.”

Dr. Hearst chuckled. “That’s putting it mildly.” He sobered. “Mason’s not a bad lad, but he’s frustrated. It won’t be easy.”

“I can handle it.” Adeline squared her shoulders.

“Good." He nodded approvingly. "Then go introduce yourself. And Adeline?”

She turned back as she reached the door.

“Don’t let him push you around.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” She smirked.

The walk to Mason’s room felt longer than it should have.

Adeline wasn’t nervous — at least, that’s what she told herself. She was confident in her abilities. She’d worked with athletes before. She had studied, trained, and dedicated herself to being the best in her field. But as she reached his door, a part of her braced for whatever version of Mason Mount she was about to meet.

She knocked.

No answer.

She knocked again.

“Yeah?” A heavy sigh came from inside before a voice, low and edged with irritation.

Taking that as permission, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed was the room itself — spacious, modern, with a ridiculous view of the city skyline. The second thing she noticed was Mason.

He was sitting up in bed, one hand gripping his phone, the other resting on his blanketed knee. His hair was slightly disheveled, jaw set tight. He looked exhausted — like he hadn’t slept properly in days.

His gaze flicked to her, unreadable.

“You’re late.” he said flatly.

Adeline arched a brow. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Mount.”

Mason didn’t reply, just looked her over, assessing.

“Dr. Hearst asked me to come in this morning.” she continued, setting her bag down on the chair beside his bed. “I’ll be overseeing your physiotherapy.”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Brilliant.”

Adeline ignored the sarcasm. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your season, but we’ll work together to get you back on track.”

“Right.” Mason leaned his head back against the pillow, exhaling sharply through his nose.

His phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the screen before locking it, jaw tightening.

“Look.” Adeline said, folding her arms. “I get it. You’re pissed off. You don’t want to be here. But the sooner you start taking this seriously, the better your recovery will be.”

His eyes snapped to hers, something dark flashing through them. “You think I’m not taking this seriously?” His voice was low, controlled, but there was heat behind it. “This is my career. My life. And it’s falling apart.”

Adeline met his stare evenly. “Then do something about it.”

Mason narrowed his eyes.

“You can be pissed off all you want.” she continued, “But that won’t change the fact that your recovery depends on effort. On actually working through it, not just sulking in this room reading depressing articles about yourself.”

His fingers tightened around his phone. So, she was right.

He didn’t answer.

Adeline sighed, rolling her shoulders back. “I’m not here to make you feel better about it, Mount. I’m here to get you back on your feet.” She took a step closer. “So, are you going to work with me, or are we wasting each other’s time?”

Silence.

For a moment, she thought he was going to tell her to leave.

But, then.

“Fine.” he muttered.

“Good choice.” Adeline smirked.

She picked up her bag. “I’ll be back later to start assessments. Try not to bite anyone’s head off in the meantime.”

Mason let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head as she walked to the door.

Mason exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t wait to see how long you last, Dr. Aldridge.”

Adeline, already halfway to the door, turned back with a smirk. “Funny, I was thinking the same about you, Mount.”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what you’re in for.”

She tilted her head, playful but unwavering. “Neither do you.”

And with that, she walked out, leaving Mason staring after her — annoyed, intrigued, and, for the first time in days, just a little distracted from his misery.

(...)