#manchester city wfc imagine

[redhairedwolfwitch]

In Sickness - Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

A/n: this fic is covid heavy and based on my personal experiences, so there is content involving covid, hospitals, detiled medical stuff, anxiety (because i felt a lot of it on that lovely day where i was in a&e for nearly two days...) so read at your own risk because i probably overshared. take care of yourselves. @grapefruit-personified enjoy:) especially because i wrote this months ago and part 2 is mainly written, i just lost motivation to finish anything.

do not repost this anywhere, i only post on this tumblr so unless it's a reblog, it was stolen.

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You could remember the day you met her. You had just moved to Spain, knowing zero Spanish made you shy and you were struggling with school, not understanding much. She spotted you sitting on the grass, tying together daisies into chains one lunch time, eventually she went over to join you instead of playing her usual lunchtime football.

The on hold music finally stopped as the clinician returned to the phone, advising you to get to the closest A&E department within the hour, after asking you if you had some way to get there.

Checking the time on your phone, you grimaced at the 12% and decreasing battery before admitting you had no way to get to A&E, resulting in advice for an ambulance, but a taxi would be quicker.

Your teammates were already at training, so none of them would be answering their phones, and your partner, she was where you left her. Barcelona.

Her last message to you was a good morning one, a message you had mirrored before the stabbing pain in your ribs had gotten worse.

You’d been able to withstand the pain yesterday, but it was stabbing more and more, getting more intense and making it hard for you to do anything. Now you were masked up in the back of a taxi, your breathing laboured as you waited for the Manchester hospital you’d been given the address to to come into view.

Leila frowned as she looked around the Manchester City training ground, wondering where you were and if you were stuck in traffic or something.

It was ‘or something’. Sitting in the emergency department, it took over an hour for you to be moved from A&E to the major emergency department, but your blood pressure and heart rate were high enough that they did an ECG. The nausea from before had stopped, but the hot and cold flashes hadn’t.

Your phone was on 8% as you checked the notifications, having no internet connection meant you didn’t have many, but Leila had texted along with the staff asking where you were.

You were barely able to send a pin of your location to Leila before the 5% battery warning lit up your phone, but you were cut off as a healthcare worker approached, wheeling over the machine to check your vitals.

Vitals that were circling the toilet, especially after a sweet old woman had spotted you swaying in your half asleep state in the waiting room chair, helping you move to a recliner that enabled you to lean back safely.

The back and forth to and from the waiting room was draining, after emerging again to return to the waiting room with a cannula in your arm.

They’d taken blood to grow some blood cultures, apparently to see if it was bacterial or viral, before leaving you in the waiting room again, attaching a small bag of fluids to the cannula to hydrate you after taking more blood to check on your general functioning. It was the nasal swab that gave them all the information they needed though.

Your COVID test was positive, but that wasn’t the only concerning factor to your vitals. They were too high, even for an individual fighting a virus. They offered you paracetamol to try to bring your temperature down, but your blood pressure had dropped slightly, your heart was still racing and your d-dimer was slightly higher than normal. 

You couldn’t fight back the tears after that, the waterfalls hidden behind your mask as they discussed keeping you in observation even longer, asking about if you had a family history of blood clots in lungs or legs.

At this point you’d only had a couple of small packets of random biscuits to eat, eventually heading into the waiting room that you had been isolated from to protect other patients, to quickly grab a packet of crisps and some more water, but it was all too much.

You didn’t know Leila had gotten your location update once in the changing room after training, and when she got no response, she began to ask questions.

The club staff had no answers after discovering your emergency contact you had written down for the club knew nothing, and the hospital told Leila nothing after being given a name she hadn’t heard of for your emergency contact.

So Leila contacted someone who would know. Your partner. Even in Barcelona, Aitana would know who your hospital emergency contact was, Aitana knew everything about you, except that you were in hospital.

It was getting closer to dinner time, you had nothing with you but your wallet, nearly dead phone and your zip up hoodie that was one of Aitana’s old Barcelona ones. Your legs and bum were going numb under the crappy waiting room chair you’d been moved to, your vitals still far too high for anyone to be comfortable sending you home.

They’d talked about giving you a blood thinning medication but a change in doctor later had you recalling all of your family health history instead. This doctor said it was sounding unlikely that you had a blood clot in your lungs, but they still sent you for a chest x-ray.

Aitana hadn’t heard from you all day. The panic inside her kept restrained by the knowledge you were probably training and having fun with your team.

Until Leila called, asking about a family member who had been out of your life for years now. A family member who was apparently still your emergency contact in NHS systems. It didn’t take long for Aitana to read through what Leila had sent, realising immediately you were in hospital and nobody had heard from you since.

It was closer to 8pm when they gave you the blood thinning injection in your stomach, keeping you hydrated with more water and trying to control your fever with more paracetamol.

You had all of the notices on the walls of the hospital waiting rooms memorised at this point, but the ‘one visitor per patient’ in the hospital policy was useless when you had come to the hospital alone.

Your arms were freezing cold, but you couldn’t get your sleeve on over the cannula without almost crying in pain, so you wrapped the shoulders of the hoodie around your shoulders and hoped your hands wouldn’t feel so cold so much longer.

The next flight to Manchester from Barcelona would arrive at Manchester airport past 11pm, but Aitana had made it to the airport in time for it, especially after asking her teammates for help.

They didn’t move you far, but once you had curled up across the two waiting room chairs, you were moved into an isolated room with a small view through the door of the nurse’s station outside.

The walls were bare minus plug sockets for machinery, a table near the recliner you were able to set up for the night, a sink in the corner and a bin for clinical waste in the other. It was past 10pm when a healthcare worker came in, attaching a bag of fluids to the cannula in your arm and leaving you alone in the dark.

Exhaustion washed over you but the cold feeling of the fluids being administered into your arm kept you half awake. Your phone is barely holding on with its 5% battery but the message Aitana sent when it was closer to midnight gave you hope.

She had rented a car from Manchester airport, getting her spare key from Leila to sort of your home for the night. A home that she had helped you pick out when it was clear Barcelona’s A team had no room for you, and you had outgrown Barcelona Team B.

One glance around your Manchester home was all it took for her to calm her anxieties. You weren’t there. Your bed was a mess, bedding all but tossed on the floor as she moved to pick up the bedding, finding some pyjamas for your return.

You were going to be okay.

She convinced herself of such as she checked your fridge, rolling her eyes at the nearing emptiness of your fridge and cupboards. She’d have to figure out how to do an online food shop.

It was closer to midnight when the first big bag of fluids was finished, sticking your head out of the door to have the tubing removed from the cannula, you headed towards the toilet for what was one of many trips there during the night.

You’d stopped looking at your phone hours ago, but getting a glance at the time after each toilet trip, it was nearly 2am when the next bag of fluids was administered, once again leaving you laying on the recliner in the dark, listening to every beeping alarm and footsteps passing by.

You probably should have called Aitana and told her what was going on, but every time you got an update, it was from a different healthcare professional and they kept changing their minds. For example, the blood thinning injection had been talked about hours before it was eventually given. You had managed to send out a short text though. 

You were COVID positive.

It was after 4am that you finished the next round of fluids, two bags that looked like they were cloudier, perhaps full of nutrients but the writing on the bags were small and you were more interested in going to the toilet again after flagging down someone to detach the tubing from the cannula again.

Your temperature and heart rate were fluctuating throughout the night, going from 39 point something degrees celsius to an apparent normal of 37 degrees, before rising again to 38.1 degrees celsius.

Waiting until 8am, another doctor came in, explaining the goal to get you a CT scan of your chest early this morning to check for blood clots, and if there were none, they planned to discharge you to ride out the COVID at home. It was only then that you were able to request something to eat, since your last meal yesterday was a three pack of digestive biscuits.

One bowl of cornflakes and milk later, you were offered more paracetamol and left to wait until it was time for your CT scan.

Your arms were freezing despite attempts to keep warm under the one blanket you were given, plus a smaller blanket to act as a pillow for your head.

They didn’t want to increase your temperature by giving you another, so you worked with your hoodie, the softness of the fabric working to keep you calm as you waited, and waited.

Aitana hadn’t been able to sleep much. The worry of you still being in hospital consuming her, so she stayed up, using a multi-surface cleaner to wipe down the surfaces in your place, gather your medical supplies in case you needed them to fight off the COVID virus.

You didn’t hear from anyone until noon, but the CT scanner was ready for you, and after a quick check that you were okay to walk, you followed the healthcare worker to the CT scanner room, a different location entirely to where the emergency x-ray rooms were located.

They checked you weren’t allergic to the contrast dye they would administer via the cannula, before warning you of the warm feeling that often overtakes your body once administered, and how it would feel like you had wet yourself, even though you would not have actually wet yourself.

Your arms ached as you held them above your head for the chest CT, slamming your eyes shut at the horrid feeling of the scanner moving, you remained still as you were informed what was happening, and when they were administering the CT contrast dye.

The warm feeling was too hot to feel like you had actually wet yourself, but it was a horrid feeling that didn’t help the nausea at the CT scanner moving to get the required imagery of your chest. You just wanted to go home, but it would be a lot worse if you did in fact have blood clots on your lungs.

Walking back to your isolation room, you were playing a waiting game as you managed to send another text to Aitana, updating her that you had had the CT scan. 

It was getting towards 1pm when the vitals machine was wheeled into your room, checking your temperature (38.1 degrees celsius), your heart rate which had decreased from 140 beats per minute to 128 beats per minute.

Your oxygen levels had maintained high throughout but when it came to the healthcare worker checking your pulse, your wrists were still freezing to the touch.

There were no signs of your CT scan results, but the healthcare worker had been kind enough to ask if anyone had spoken to you about food, something you had not had since being brought the cornflakes hours ago.

The result of the conversation turned into a sandwich, some more water, and a yoghurt as you continued to play the waiting game for your scan results and whether you did or did not have blood clots in or on your lungs.

It was nearing 2pm when the doctor from this morning entered your room again, but the key piece of information you needed was given. Your CT scan was clear, you could be discharged and have your cannula removed. You could go home and ride out the COVID in your own bed.

Your phone was somehow holding on as you texted Aitana that your scan was clear so you could go home if she or someone else could pick you up from the main reception carpark, your phone sending the message and getting a thumbs up response before finally the battery dropped to 0%.

Sticking your head out of the door, the mask you had been wearing since yesterday felt damp and close to your face, but you did not remove it yet. Waiting for a nurse to come remove the cannula in your arm, you went for your final toilet break before the final hospital waiting game.

It was warm outside, and despite the clouds in the sky making it seem greyer than that one moment where you saw out a window when waiting for the CT scan, it was sunny too. Your phone was long dead, but you were alive.

Holding your hoodie in your arms, your phone and wallet in your pockets as you made the trek across the main reception disabled car park, lingering near the out of use bus stop that gave you a perfect vantage point of the entrance into the hospital from the main road.

You weren’t entirely sure who you were looking for, who would be your saviour and get you home until a car you didn’t recognise pulled up in front of you. The window going down to reveal a pair of eyes you had not seen in person since the two of you were in Italy together during the winter break.

“Mi dulce flor!” you exclaimed, shock in your tone but your throat felt like you were swallowing knives, barely getting into the passenger seat before you were almost hacking up your lungs into your mask.

“Cálmate, estoy aquí mi amor.” Aitana cooed, her hand lingering on your back as you coughed, eventually settling enough to put your seatbelt on so Aitana could drive you home.

“Are you hungry?” Aitana paused, going over the English in her head as she watched you walk over to your couch, appearing with several blankets before digging through your living room cabinets for something.

“Bebé?” Aitana broke the silence as you froze before letting out a hoarse cheer of victory.

“Found it!” Revealing the old box set that left Aitana smiling softly, watching as you went to play the series from the beginning, then disappearing to your room.

It was getting dark when Aitana realised your phone was charged, allowing you to finally message your teammates and staff at Manchester City with an update of what had happened. But it also gave Aitana a chance to message her teammates and the staff at Barcelona, sending a photo of you wrapped in blankets, half asleep as you watched the TV.

It was Alexia, Patri and Laia that messaged back first, Alexia having helped Aitana get to the airport the night before whilst Patri and Laia had held down the fort when Aitana had to leave.

“What happens when you miss training? You have the game against Atleti… and the game against Chelsea-”

“Shush, mi amor. You were alone in the hospital for more than a day, I am not leaving you again.” Aitana replied, passing you your drink as you began to cough.

“They worried you had, what did you call it? Blood clots on your lungs! Era serio!” Aitana exclaimed before quietening her voice as you grimaced at the loudness.

“Lo siento.”

“It is not your fault. The virus…” Aitana fell quiet, brushing away a tear as you reached for her hand, holding it gently, “I thought I would lose you, mi dulce flor. I cannot lose you.” Aitana admitted, feeling your fingers draw patterns in the back of her hand. Your eyes were glassy with exhaustion but the love for Aitana in them was undeniable. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but Aitana listened to your breathing for most of that night. It was heavier, but you kept breathing which was a relief to her. The windows were opened enough to air out the room from germs, your fear of giving Aitana the dreaded virus which was wreaking havoc on your body and mind overwhelming you.

You didn’t want to get out of bed, the way your body ached was not helping you but Aitana needed your help for an online order of food. You were running a fever that was kept at bay by paracetamol, tapping away on the touch screen to add things to the order, much to Aitana’s amusement at how quickly you were doing it.

She found you on the couch later, curled up under your blankets and clad in your dressing gown over your pyjamas. You were breathing heavily but you remained in deep slumber, the tv stuck replaying the menu music over and over as you’d gotten to the end of the disc. 

Feeling your forehead to check your temperature, Aitana froze as it sounded like you whimpered in your sleep, eyes cracking open as you smacked together your dried lips. “Your hands are cold.”

Aitana rolled her eyes playfully before disappearing for a moment, dropping something in your lap as she returned.

“Lip balm? Gracias mi dulce flor.” Your voice was laced with sarcasm but Aitana ignored it in favour of heading to your kitchen to make something that didn’t irritate your mouth.

You hadn’t admitted it at first, but you had been trying to hide the grimace at the toast you had this morning, the rough texture hurting the hard palate of your mouth.

Staring up at the ceiling of your living room, your eyes fluttered shut as memories flickered in your mind. The first time you met Aitana, the flower crowns the two of you would make together, and the dynamic duo the two of you became on the football pitch, despite the boys picking on Aitana for her height, and you for existing.

Aitana was 13 when she joined Barcelona’s youth team, whilst you took longer to join, the two hour rides by public transport to get to practice were not in your favour until you were travelling with Aitana and her father.

The two of you were moved up to Barcelona B close together, but when Aitana was 17, she was promoted by the manager to the first team, whilst you remained with Barcelona B. It didn’t take long for you to figure out why.

You had the talent, but Barcelona were full of talented players, they had no room for you. No matter how well you and Aitana played together, you would not get to play with Barcelona’s first team.

It broke your and Aitana’s heart to leave, but Manchester City gave you an offer that was better than any other club in Spain. Manchester City were not Barcelona, but you flourished there. You flourished into a player that Barcelona kept an eye on, until your contract with City began to run out in the summer and the talks to renew were at a stalemate.

And now you have covid. A virus that you’d seen and heard of other players getting back during the height of the pandemic, but none were so affected as you were now. None had to be hospitalised despite being clinically healthy. They bounced back, but despite Aitana’s remarks that you would be back stronger, you doubted it.

The exhaustion hadn’t left you alone, even days later. Your temperature was kept at bay by paracetamol, your coughing grew worse before it was better, your gums so sore that eating crunchy foods still hurt, and you felt like you had cotton wool in your ears and wrapped around your brain.

Even after you were testing negative, your energy levels remained low but Aitana had to leave for London for the match against Chelsea before returning with the team to Barcelona.

She had tested negative throughout somehow, and it broke her heart to leave you, but it wasn’t long until the end of the season and the two of you would be reunited again.

The match against Chelsea ended on good terms for Barcelona, with a 1-0 advantage in the first leg thanks to Caro, and whilst you watched Aitana struggle to get on the ball in the first half, the second half enabled your partner to have more of the ball, despite the lack of goals.

You weren’t the only player who wasn’t on the Manchester City squad list for the match against West Ham the day after though.

Sandy and Laia were both out with injuries, and you were still weak and recovering from the virus that rampaged your body and mind. You sat with the two of them as you observed the game against West Ham, City winning 6-2 against the Hammers.

Your cough didn’t fully leave you alone, but that wasn’t the only issue. Your joints hated you enough that your knee joints felt like cement, your ears felt like they had cotton wool stuffed in them, and because of this, you were more wobbly on your feet than you had ever been before.

Manchester City had ruled you out for the rest of the season too quickly for you to feel comfortable, but it wasn’t what was bothering you. The talks that were previously at a stalemate had fallen through. Manchester City had decided not to renew your contract, and you couldn’t help but blame yourself.

“City don’t want me anymore. They took me in when Barcelona had no place for me, but now… I feel like a broken toy cast away when I’m no use anymore.” You left a voicemail for Aitana, she was busy training for the next leg of the semifinals against Chelsea.

Your hands tingle as you begin to type up what you had to, what you needed to say, to get control over something in your life.

Although some people may be excited by the prospect of a player who originated from Barcelona’s youth teams being a free agent who could come home, you knew the reality was much worse.

City were still at least trying to help you with your recovery but your hopes of returning to your pre-covid state were fading, especially after they ruled you out for the remainder of the season.

‘It’s a bitter feeling. Realising that the last game I played would be my final game at Manchester City. A club that took me in when I was lost, you have taught me so much and I will always be grateful. Thank you for changing my life, but my part at Manchester City is over. I won’t forget any of it.’

It was an early goodbye, City still had four matches left, two at home and two away. You would get to attend the home matches in the crowds, but you wouldn’t get to step on the pitch in City colours again.

Your lungs were fine according to the staff at City, your cough coming and going but it was your joint and fatigue issues that were the problem.

Your energy levels came and went, and even though they had had you training alongside your teammates some days, you would be wiped out after.

You had even fallen asleep in the dressing room at one point, using a hoodie that Aitana had worn whilst she stayed with you as a makeshift pillow. Leila was the one who found you,  but it was Steph that convinced you to let her drive you home, your body too sore to walk this time.

Steph remained silent as you sat in her passenger seat, tears falling down your face as you sobbed, venting your feelings of everything.

How your illness had wrecked your body and mind, how much you missed the old you, how much you missed playing and how much it hurt to leave Manchester City at the end of the season.

How afraid you were for what was to come, and how far away you felt from your partner, the love of your life you’d known since you were both children.

Steph, who knew what it was like to be away from a team due to injury, then dropped from the squad, but instead of her club, it was her national team.

You hadn’t even thought about the World Cup, but you knew deep down you would not be called up. You could barely stay standing after training, you would not be able to play a full ninety minutes in your current state at all.

“Do you know where you’ll go in the transfer window? Will you go back to Spain?”

“My love is in Spain, and I have nothing here outside of Manchester City. I’m lucky that City helped me with my coaching qualification before I got sick. I hoped that I wouldn’t need it immediately, but I’ll be a free agent in the transfer window, and I don’t know if anyone wants a player recovering from covid. Everyone else bounced back from it so quickly, but the simplest of things hurt me now. Please, I just want to go home and sleep.” You vented, swiping at your eyes to get rid of the tears, but Steph frowned at the last sentence you said.

“Don’t shut yourself away from us, little one. You may be leaving the club but you’re not leaving our hearts or our thoughts. So please don’t shut yourself away.” Steph begged, hoping you would make some sort of promise, but you didn’t.

It was a promise you could not keep.

/// translations hopefully ///

mi dulce flor - my sweet flower

Cálmate, estoy aquí mi amor - calm down, i'm here my love

Bebé - baby

lo siento - i'm sorry

gracias - thank you

[summer-princess]

Inappropriate Response: Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: Leila confronts you after a bad tackle. Things escalate. 🔞Smut. Mdni. 🔞 Pairing: Leila Ouahabi x Reader Warnings: Everything is consensual but not explicitly negotiated beforehand. Fingering, degradation, wall sex Disclaimer: Obviously fiction. Notes: I've had this partially written for so long! I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave requests! Words: 2674

You knew you had fucked up as soon as you collided with your opponent. 

Her pained shout as she fell to the ground under your mistimed challenge made your stomach roil as you hopped back up to your feet, barely noticing the referee as she pulled out the yellow card and held it up in your direction.

Even as your teammates surrounded her, beginning to argue on your behalf, you didn’t bother. Instead, you peered around the backs of City’s medical team, trying to catch a glimpse of the player you’d taken out. 

Through her grimace of pain as the medical staff helped her to her feet and off the pitch, Leila Ouahabi still managed to send an impressive glare your way.

She had to be substituted off, and the knot of guilt in your stomach only tied itself tighter.

You could see her glaring at you from the City bench, clearly still stewing over the bad tackle as she sat with her ankle covered in ice, but it faded from your mind as the match continued on. When it was over, you retreated back into the locker room with your teammates, not expecting the Spaniard to make anything more of it.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

As you knew for a fact that you were the last one in the lockers, the sound of the door made you jump, water bottle clattering down to the floor as you whipped your head around, catching sight of black hair as the Spaniard fixed you with a steely glare.

You didn’t know Leila well, having only played against her a few times, but you could tell that she was still angry as she stalked toward you, ankle clearly still tender. You wanted to melt into the floor as she got closer, wishing that you could disappear before you had to hear exactly what the Spaniard thought of you.

There was no such luck for you as Leila stalked towards you, her approach pushing you further and further back.

“What the fuck was that tackle?”

You shrugged, back pressing against the white wall as she cornered you. You wanted to apologize, again, but your words were lodged in your throat as her glare froze you in place. The sensation of the back against the wall, the beautiful woman with ire in her eyes growing closer and closer, was going straight between your thighs.

You knew that your reaction was entirely inappropriate. 

Her response was entirely disproportionate, the rational side of your mind told you. It had been a mistake, and you had apologized for it. Repeatedly, in fact. You shouldn’t be standing here and listening to her shout at you, back against the wall. You should be yelling back, standing up for yourself.

But you weren’t.

Instead, your eyes were locked on the defender’s pretty face as she cornered you, and her fury had you shivering for a very different reason.

Your cheeks were red and heated with a scarlet blush, and your face wasn’t the only part of your body that felt hot. 

“Well?!”

You didn’t know what to say as she shouted at you once again, the fierce bite of her words sending a fresh shiver through you. Your silence was clearly beginning to grate on her nerves as she clenched her jaw, unwilling to leave you alone until you’d explained yourself to her satisfaction.

“I… Um…”

Unconsciously, you pressed your thighs together, your pussy beginning to tingle with arousal. You worried your tongue between your teeth, only getting wetter as the Spaniard glared at you, so close. But she couldn’t know, could she?  

There was no way that Leila could figure out why you were a stuttering mess, know way that she could know just how wet you were getting. 

How, if she did figure it out, you would do whatever she asked of you.

The defender was, however, remarkably observant when she wanted to be.

Still narrowed in a glare, Leila’s eyes drifted downwards from your nervous face to the spot where your thighs were pressed together. You were trying desperately not to clench down around nothing, praying that your entirely inappropriate reaction to being backed into a corner by a beautiful woman would go unnoticed by the woman herself, that you could get her to accept your apology and flee home with your tail tucked in to take care of your need on your own.

Leila’s gaze, however, should have warned you that things wouldn’t exactly work out that way.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, realization flooding her face as you flushed scarlet, unable to stop a little whimper from escaping, cursing every decision you had ever made that had led you to this situation.

“You… You’re… Fuck. This is making you wet, isn’t it?”

You shook your head frantically, trying to deny it. Even as you did, another wave of arousal flooded through you, her looming presence going straight between your legs. The air between the two of you felt charged with electricity as she invaded your space, able to sense the way your breath hitched at her proximity.

“F-Fuck you, that’s-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Her growl drew another noise from you, much louder than the first. Your breath froze in your lungs as Leila slid one of her knees between your legs, her lower thigh making the barest contact with the place where her words had gone. 

Even through your kit, the touch of the defender’s skin against your pussy made you whine. You just managed to stop yourself from grinding down against the other woman’s muscular leg, but the sound did nothing to disprove Leila’s conclusion.

You couldn’t meet her eyes.

There was no way this could be happening. There was no way you were trapped in a corner by a beautiful woman who was very angry at you, and there was no way she had just slid her leg between yours to confirm that the situation was making you wet. 

“Look. At. Me.”

Even though it was torture, the blush on your cheeks setting your face ablaze to the point where you were fairly certain you were seconds away from spontaneous combustion, the bite behind her heavily accented English couldn’t be ignored.

Shaking, biting your lip to hold back the disappointed whimper when she removed her leg from between yours, you raised your chin and forced yourself to meet her eyes.

Her eyebrows were raised just slightly as her grip loosened, silently giving you the opportunity to say that you didn’t want this, to push her away and never speak of this moment again.

You would have been lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a moment, but the press of Leila’s body against your own was just too tempting for denial to be anything but an unthinkable possibility.

One look into your face made the decision for Leila- behind the humiliation, your eyes were clouded with an obvious lust, the same expression she knew was dancing behind her own heavy gaze. 

Slipping her hand beneath your shorts, Leila’s hand went straight to your wetness.

You were soaked, and it didn’t take the Spaniard long to more than confirm her original suspicion. The second her long fingers brushed against the crotch of your panties, they were met with damp fabric, plentiful evidence of her claim. You whimpered, rocking your hips forward into her touch, and the defender let out a harsh laugh.

“You fucking slut.” 

Her hands found the waistband of your shorts and unceremoniously yanked them down your thighs, pulling your panties along with them. 

“Wanna make it up to me, hm?”

You nodded desperately, not trusting your words to properly convey how much you needed to make it up to her in this way, hoping that the motion of your head would get the message across.

Leila swore in Spanish at the feeling as, unencumbered by your shorts and panties, her fingers once again met the bare flesh of your cunt. She wasted no time before beginning her ministrations, two fingers pressed together gathering the wetness from your entrance and dragging it back up to your clit. The defender began stroking your sensitive little nub, relishing the way you were unable to hold back a strangled moan. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, the combination of the match and her fingers making you shudder and buckle a little, saved from collapsing to the floor only by her presence.

“How pathetic can you get?” 

She was supporting a good portion of your weight now, ankle making a miraculous recovery as two fingers rubbed against your cunt, mercilessly stroking your clit.

Pathetic was definitely one of the many words that could be used to describe you right now, pressed up against the wall by a woman who probably hated you, soaking her fingers with your arousal.

But the best part?

The best part, and the worst part at the same time, was that you didn’t care. All you cared about right now was how much you needed her, needed her to keep you pinned against the wall with her larger body, needed her to keep touching you like that, needed the filthy, degrading words being growled in your ear.

“I could tell you to get on your knees and eat me out right here and you’d do it, no?”

You nodded desperately, trying to rock against her fingers. She pulled them back, swallowing your whine with a fierce and bruising kiss. 

Leila’s kiss was like fire, her lips crashing against your own with a heat that could almost rival the one between her legs, where her fingers continued to work you. Her mouth dominated, your own offering little resistance as you moaned, again, into her tongue as it explored. She kissed you like she was dying, and your lips were the only cure, until she was suddenly pulling back, leaving you desperate for more.

Kiss broken, Leila’s other hand flashed out, wrapping around your neck as she held you against the wall. Your gasp of surprise was short and strangled, cut off in the face of the momentary restriction to your airflow. She didn’t keep her hand wrapped around your neck for longer than a second or two, just long enough to pin you in place as the fingers that had just been rubbing your sensitive clit and outer folds suddenly slipped inside your cunt. You were tight, but so wet that her two fingers slid easily inside, the Spaniard giving you only milliseconds to adjust before she was moving, fucking you in earnest, still keeping you pressed against the wall and at her mercy.

Even though her fingers were thin, the sudden intrusion still made you gasp aloud, instinctively trying to spread your legs further and give her better access. She swore again, a Spanish curse you couldn’t understand, welcoming the better angle as she buried herself in you up to the third knuckle, lithe digits swallowed by your desperate cunt.

She found her rhythm quickly, curling her fingers every few thrusts so she could massage the sensitive tissue inside of you. 

You were fairly certain you had forgotten how to breathe properly, strangled gasps all you could manage as the Spaniard fucked you with her fingers. The pleasure was constant, pounding, overwhelming as her thumb rubbed messy circles across your clit, acute and addicting. Your mouth fell open, eyes heavy-lidded as you let yourself be fucked, owned by the gorgeous defender.

“You little slut,” she hissed, yanking you back to reality with her words as her wrist continued to guide her thrusts, power coming from her forearm as she fucked your willing hole. “You little fucking slut.” 

“Your slut,” you moaned in agreement, throwing your head back as her fingers continued to plunder your pussy, making it clear who controlled the situation.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Wanna be my little slut?”

You nodded, leaning forward desperately and puckering your lips, needing to feel her mouth against your own.

She met you halfway, pressing another furious kiss to your parted lips. You gasped into the kiss, clasping onto it like a breath of oxygen, even as it stole the air from your lungs. Her lips against yours only made her fingers plundering your cunt more intense. 

You could feel the pressure beginning to build against your pelvis, the sensations becoming more and more intense as Leila slipped a third finger inside, the brief ache of the stretch quickly swallowed by the pleasure. Removing her lips from your mouth, the defender hissed into your ear, hot breath posing a question which made you shiver in anticipation and nerves.

“You deserve to come?”

You didn’t know which answer she wanted, but the idea of being denied, of her talented fingers leaving you a quivering mess and not seeing the act through to completion made you want to sob. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Leila really expected an answer as she curled her fingers again, palm pressing firmly against your nub. Every movement of her fingers set your nerves on fire, sensitive little clit fully erect from her touch. You could feel your orgasm approaching much more rapidly now, barrelling towards you like a runaway freighter, and you had no idea how much longer you could hold back.

“Leila-”

The strangled moan of her name was enough to alert Leila to your predicament and, as much as the rapidly forming bruise on her ankle made her want to walk away and leave you panting, unsatisfied with your arousal coating your thighs, there was no real choice.

Not when you had taken her so well, not when you looked so pretty with her fingers buried inside your cunt, showing her just how sorry you were. 

She wanted to feel you come around her fingers, and she wanted it now.

“Come for me. Make it up to me, slut, and come for me like the needy thing that you are.”

Permission granted, you wasted no time before crashing over the edge with a sharp cry, a nonsensical noise barely recognizable as the other woman’s name.

Your legs gave out beneath you as you came but, before you could fall to the floor, her free arm was wrapping around your waist, holding you steady as your orgasm overwhelmed you, cunt clamping around her long fingers and holding them in place. Leila couldn’t help but release a little sound of her own at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around her fingers, imagination conjuring images of what it would be like to have you all to herself for much longer, spread out and helpless in her bed.

“R-Really am sorry,” you whispered, clinging to her shoulders as the aftershocks began to fade. 

“Shh, pretty girl,” she cooed, banishing her fantasies for a moment in order to see to you, tone markedly different from the one she had used when she first cornered you against the wall, what seemed like an eternity ago.

“It’s okay. Don’t you worry about it. It’s all fine, I promise. It barely even hurts anymore.”

You sighed in relief, embracing the feeling of her arms around you as she worked her fingers free, leaving you empty as she pulled your shorts and damp panties back into place. 

“Besides,” said Leila, grinning as she glanced at her glistening fingers. “I think you more than made up for it.”

Your post-orgasm haze wearing off, the furious blush returned to your cheeks. She chuckled, shaking her head. 

“And now that you have… I don’t suppose you’d let me buy you a drink?”

It was your turn to burst out laughing, first at the audacity of the question and then at the slightly wounded look that appeared on the defender’s face at your reaction.

Crouching down to pick up a stray hair elastic and sliding it around your wrist, you met her eyes and gave her a bright grin and a nod.

“You know,” you said. “This may be the strangest way anyone’s ever asked me out.”

[trulyhblue]

MASTERLIST

MINORS DNI, please leave requests if you want! I write for a lot of woso, do not repost my stories!! If you have sent a request to another writer, please do not send the same one to me<3 Feel free to leave comments, etc!

Kid Fic List!

KATIE MCCABE

Miss Australia (18+)

Part One Part Two

KYRA COONEY CROSS

Communication (Fluff)

Media Duties (Communication pt 2)

Until We Moved Away (Fluff)

HAYLEY RASO

My Girl (Fluff)

KERSTIN CASPARJI

Charmer (Fluff)

LEAH WILLIAMSON

Inappropriate (suggestive, slight angst)

Bled Blue (18+)

GEORGIA STANWAY

Stargirl (18+)

ALESSIA RUSSO

Carded (Fluff and Angst)

Lilo’s Sparkle (mum! Alessia, fluff)

LAUREN HEMP

Home Away From Home (fluff)

Girl(friends) (fluff)

Bug And Bingo (fluff, caitlin foord! child! daughter)

JESSIE FLEMING

Way To My Heart. (fluff)

CAITLIN FOORD

Bug And Bingo (fluff, mum! caitlin)

GRACE CLINTON

Just a Hugger (fluff)

NIAMH CHARLES

Armband (fluff, suggestive)

Back To You (18+)

Brown-Eyed Girl (Baby Fic)

Under The Sheets (Coming Soon) 18+

LIONESSES

BABY ENGLAND SERIES

part one part two part three

headcannons

^ suggestions/plot request completely up to audience discretion. I will only continue this if people want me to.

Open to make a similar Auswnt one (Baby Aussie?)

[alotofpockets]

From the sidelines | Leila Ouahabi x Reader & Jill Roord x Platonic!Reader

Where Leila gets injured, and you have to watch from the sidelines.

This one is for you @sleekswosobession happy birthday!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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You found your seat amongst the crowd at Etihad Stadium, it wasn’t long after you sat down that you saw Jill Roord heading your way. “Hey Jill, how are you doing?” Since she had done her ACL she watched her team play from the stands, you hated that she was injured, but you loved the company. “I’m hanging in there, wish I could be on the field, you know?” You nod, though you had no personal experience, you could imagine how hard it was for her to not be able to play. “Anyways, how are you? Still enjoying WAG life?” The term made you laugh, “I’m doing well, and WAG life is great as always.” 

The two of you talked until warm-ups started. Leila looked into the crowd, always eager to find you as soon as she could. Once she did she waved at you with the biggest smile on her face, you waved back and didn't let your eyes leave your girlfriend as the team started their warming up. “The only good thing about missing out on playing is watching how disgustingly in love the two of you are.” Jill jokes, earning herself a friendly shove. “Missing Jana I see.” You throw back at her, making the girl sigh, “Yeah I do.”

Forty minutes into the game, and it was dead equal. Possession, shots on goal, and shots on target, both teams were performing at a high level on all parts of the field. You watched as Leila intercepted the ball between two of the opposing players, and started running up the field with it. She passed a few players already, and was looking to give the assist to Jess or Chloe. Before she could even decide to which one of the forwards she was going to pass the ball, she plummeted to ground reaching for her ankle instantly.

You watched in fear as you saw the hard tackle that was made on your girlfriend. Standing with your hand over your mouth as she reached for her ankle, and wasn’t getting up. Jess was signaling for the medics before the referee even made it to Leila. “Please tell me my mind is tricking, and it’s not as bad as it looks.” Jill puts her hand on your shoulder, “I wish I could.” The way Leila’s face contorted each time the medics touched her ankle said enough for the level of pain she was in.

The crowd went silent as a stretcher was brought onto the field, and Leila was given a green whistle to ease the pain. “Come on, follow me.” You followed Jill down the stands, where she managed to get the both of you on the sidelines of the pitch. Jill knew from her injury that she wanted nothing more than for Jana to be by her side, so she wanted Leila to have that opportunity. You watched from the sidelines as your girlfriend was helped onto the stretcher and carried in your direction. “Go, she’ll need you in there.” Jill urged you to follow the stretcher. You stepped in line with them and reached for your girlfriend’s hand, “I’m here baby.”

You sat with Leila as the medical team checked out her ankle. “I think you have broken something in your ankle, but you’re going to need to go to the hospital to get an x-ray to make sure. Go as soon as you can, so we can treat it best.” He was talking to Leila, but she was a bit out of it from the green whistle, so you take in the information and answer him. “I can take her right now.”

Since Leila was a bit loopy from the green whistle, you accepted Jill's offer to go to the hospital with you. The two of them sat in the back, as you drove. “Jill,” Your girlfriend started, “did you know that I have the most beautiful girlfriend?” You blush at the comment. Jill smirks, and pulls out her phone. “What did you say?” She films your girlfriend's loopy confessions. “My girlfriend is the most beautiful girl in the whole world. She's so pretty, and so smart. Jill, she is really amazing. I love her so much.” Jill pans the camera to your blushing state in the mirror, before pocketing her phone again.

At the hospital you're helped quickly because the medical team called ahead. They took Leila to get some x-rays, while you nervously waited in the room for the results. They brought your girlfriend back before they had the results ready, saying that the doctor would be with you shortly. The effects of the green whistle were starting to wear off, and Leila was seemingly in more pain. You reach for her hand, “It's okay, the doctor will prescribe something in a bit.” 

The doctor came back with the results of the x-rays. The bad news was that her ankle was definitely broken. The good news, she wasn't going to need surgery. With a boot and a pair of crutches she was sent on her way. The doctor would contact the medical team with a course of treatment. After picking up the prescribed medication, you headed back to the car.

You dropped Jill off at her place and thanked her for all her help, before you made your way to your place. Leila quickly got the hang of the crutches, as you walked her to the front door. Once she was settled on the couch, you made a trip back to the car to grab your bags. “Are you hungry, love?” She might not have played the full match, but she still used up a lot of her energy. “Yeah, but can we order in? I really want some cuddles right now.” You smile at her grabby hands and make your way over to the couch. “That sounds like a great plan.”

With the delivery order placed, Leila cuddles into your side. “Did they win?” Her passion for the team was always present. “Yes, they did. 2-0.” You always had match notifications on for her team, so when you were in the hospital, you had seen the final score. 

“Oh, also Jill sent something to the group chat that you might want to check out.” She watched herself simp over you with a smile on her face. “Even drugged up me knows what's important.” She pecks your lips. “I love you baby, thank you for being here for me.” 

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[totaly-obsessed]

Revenge

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Meeting Mary for the first time after losing the Euros to her is far more interesting than you had thought.

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Derby days were always a different kind of excitement. Old Trafford was filled to the brim – a sea of red as far as you could look. But every now and then a sky-blue jersey could be seen in the crowds, making their way to the visitor’s side where they formed a new hive. 

Excited chants filled the Stadium as the players warmed up on the pitch – the crowd's roar when the red devils walked out was nearly deafening. The season had been going on for a while until you had come to this point.

This was insane – just a year ago this had all been drastically different. The Lionesses’ winning the home European Championship and managing to include the media as well as they did, changed the games of Women’s football forever.

Coming home with a silver medal instead of a gold one hurt a little less once you saw how the game in England had changed.

Or rather how different it was to Germany. The change from Eintracht Frankfurt to Manchester City had nearly given you whiplash. But the players on your new team were nice and kept their teasing and gloating about winning to the minimum.

Standing in the tunnel you couldn’t help but eye up your opponents – Alessia Russo, Ella Toone, Nikita Parris, and Mary fucking Earps. 

Ella had scored the first goal in the final – but Mary had stopped three of your four strikes on goal – only letting one in. Maybe, if she had just slipped or miscalculated, you would have been the reigning champion of Europe.

But that didn’t happen. She didn’t slip or miscalculate – she was just too good.

It was as if she could feel your eyes on her, with a raised eyebrow she mustered you before her lips finally formed a cocky smirk. She didn’t need to hear you speak to know that she got under your skin. 

Mary relished in that feeling of your pure annoyance as both teams walked out to a deafening crowd of fans. This was her pitch, her goal, and her match – and she would make sure you knew that.

But when the goalkeeper went to shake your hand before the match, she was surprised by your composure. The last time the Brit had seen you was when you were crying on the pitch because of the loss.

You could see her confusion, brows still furrowed but it looked different – she looked curious. A little like a cat who just saw a little piece of string vanish around a corner, desperate to figure out where it went.

“Get ready Earps – no excuses today.” 

She didn’t really understand what you meant with ‘excuses’, but hearing the determination in your voice threw her off a little more – and you could see it. Shellshocked Mary still stood there when you had already gone past, running back to the sky blues for a team photo.

This was your game. And once she saw your smirk as you posed for the photographer, she knew it too. Today she would lose.

The game was brutal and you could swear you saw more of the ground than any other place on the pitch. But eventually, it was Alanna Kennedy who set a long ball through to you nearing the end of the second half.

After a nice little back and forth with your fellow striker Lauren Hemp, you finally managed to break through their middle field - only to be met with Ona Batlle who had made her way back. Annoyingly she was quite hard to get rid of. 

Old Trafford got noisier the closer you got to Earp’s goal. You could hear the boos and disappointed shouts from the stands as Ona landed on her bum, but they only motivated you even more.

The Manchester United goalkeeper needed a second to understand what had just happened – she conceded. And it had been you.

She could have sworn she had the ball in her hands. 

She did – for a second, before it continued on its path, into the back of the net. Much to her disbelief and the annoyance of the crowd.

Jess Parker was the first to reach you, abruptly jumping on your back, and taking you down with her. “What a fucking Power Shot!” 

You got up as quickly as possible, running to the goal. The plan was to grab the ball as quickly as possible, trying to ensure your lead. But when you pulled the ball, it didn’t move.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Mary’s accent was thick, laced with anger as she yanked the ball to her chest – pulling you even closer to her than you had been before.

No way would you let go of the ball.

“Use your brain should you have one. Let go.” Taken aback the goalkeeper actually let go of the ball, watching as you ran back to the middle line.

You could feel her staring, especially at your backside – once you looked back at her, smirk on your face, eyebrows pulled up, she blushed.

The Mary Earps was staring at your ass and blushed once she got caught. This was officially the best day of your life.

And it would continue to be a good day because just shortly after you slotted another one past her, this time you had just picked up one of Millie Turner's lost balls and sent the Goalkeeper flying in the wrong direction.

To no surprise making the round in Old Trafford didn’t take too long, seeing as their team just lost 2-0 to their city rival.

Just as you were entering the tunnel you were yanked backward, effectively cutting the conversation with Alessia Russo short. However, the blonde didn’t seem too sad, once she saw Mary was the one with a fist in your jersey.

“Have fun!” You couldn’t miss the shit-eating grin on Ella’s face as she tugged her best mate down the hallway.

Your shirt was now half up your back – and Mary didn’t say anything, her eyes didn’t even meet your eyes. They were caught on something else.

“If you wanted me naked you could have just said so – no need for violence.”

Mary had finally caught herself, letting go of your shirt and instead crossing her arms in front of her chest. It was kinda funny how she tried to look taller and buffer to intimidate you. 

“As if! Who would want that?” The goalkeeper's eyes flit from one direction to the next, acting as if she was looking for people who would want to see you.

In a quick motion, you stood shirtless in front of her, turning it right side around again – before eventually just throwing it in her face.

“Thought you might want the shirt of a winner - if you want the shorts too you’ll have to come find me!”

With your sweaty shirt in hand, Mary could only watch as you ran in the tunnel to a giggling Esme and Hempo – she didn’t even manage to tease you about losing the euros but before she could follow her team, you turned around to shout something in her direction.

"And I expect you to bring your shirt in exchange!"

Manchester wasn’t that big. She would find you - right?

[pitchsidestories]

✨Happy 33rd birthday to Lucy Bronze !✨

[woso-lover]

The other side of Manchester | Alessia Russo

Alessia Russo x foden!reader

Phil Foden x foden!reader

Summary: A anonymous dating app lets Alessia Russo, the Manchester United star striker, and Y/n Foden, the die hard citizen, fall for each other.

Warning: language, rivals to lovers?

English is not my first language

Masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Bantr. It was the new trendy dating app everyone's using. It's a complete anonymous dating app, where you find your partner without any pictures or whatsover, only the things your counterpart says the you. This is the formal description of Keeley Jones, the developer of Bantr. Everyone in your surrounding and who's single has this app, exept for you. It wasn't like you weren't against the idea, but you didn't believed in every trend. With you the only single one who has not the app, your and your brothers teammates were basicly forcing you to download this app.

"Comon, Y/n. You know it going to work, since you look more for personality and everything. And wouldn't be home alone anymore." Your brother whined. Since weeks he tries to get you to download this app. He even put your own teammates against you, who were always on your side.

"I'm everything but lonely, Phil. And who knows maybe in two weeks no ones using this shitty app anymore" He raised an eyebrow.

"Y/n/n you are lonely. And who cares about this stuff. If you don't do it on your free will I will. And I will find you a hot chic who has both looks and personality." With that he grabbed your phone to make his threatment reality.

"Alright, alright. But at least let me do the fucking profil on my own."

"Alright, heartbreacker" He smiled as he gave you your phone back.

"I hate you" you said as you opend the app and logged yourself in. Phil kept a close eye on your phone until Jack walk over to the next room

"Yo Jack. You own me 20 bucks!" Phil yelled at him.

"I can't belive you fucking bet on me" You said shaking your head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

On the other side of Manchester it looked a bit different.

"Tooney, I think I'm gonna delete this app" Alessia sighed.

"What Bantr? Don't you dare." Ella muffled with a mouth full of crips.

"Because it's useless."

With that Ella stop whatever movie they were watching. It was movie night at Alessias like every friday. "Why? I thought there was this one girl you wanted to meet up with."

"Well she canceled"

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. Can we just go on with the movie?"

"Of course yeah. But I swear on my boyfriend that I and this app will find some one for you." Ella said while putting on the tv again.

"No don't swear on him. He's actually nice" Alessia said smilling.

A few hours and two movies later Alessia and Ella still sat on the couch, with Ella sleeping besides her bestfriend. Alessia often tought about going also to sleep but the movies always kept her awake. So the blonde finally decides to put the tv off and closing her eyes too. But as she wanted to drift off, her phone beeped. With a sigh she looks at her phone and frowned at the bantr message.

Hey, sorry to disturb you. But my brother wouldn't leave me alone, if I wouldn't text anyone on this stupid app. ;)

Alessia smiled at this message. She ddebated if she's going to answer or not. In the end she decided to give it a try.

Hi. No everythings fine. I share the same opinion with this app. My bestfriend forced me to get it.

A thing Alessia didn't know was, that you were smilling on your phone to her respond. Happy that there was someone who shared the same opinion as you.

Looks like we have the same story. So do you maybe know how this app works properly?

I could help you indeed

I'm all ears, Bantr master

Alessia couldn't stop smiling. She wrote with many girls, acording the Ella it's necessary to find the perfect match, but never smiled this much in the beginning. She adjusted herself on the couch and text the anymous person.

You texted each other for hours until you had to put a stop into this. On sunday you had a game and with that a little training and a meeting. Your told her you had to work, not what you do for living. You didn't feel like telling a stranger that you are a footballer and maybe get used for this. But your texting partner didn't mind and you fell asleep thinking about her.

Alessia on the other side couldn't sleep, thinking to much about her texting partner. The conversation you two had was easy. It was easy to talk to you. Easier then with the other girls she texted with.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Ella woke up, searching for her bestfriend on the couch. Confussed she couldn't found Alessia, Ella walked around Alessias house, only to find her sitting on the kitchen counter with a smile in her face. She was looking down at the phone in her hands.

"What got you so smiley today, Lessi?" Ella asked. With that Alessia looked up and aknowledge for the first time her bestfriends precence.

"Nothing!" Alessia said quickly and turned her phone off quick. Too quick for Ella to believe.

"Well I think, you got a match on bantr, right?" Alessia nodded her head frusterated. There was no point in lying.

"Ohh. What's her name? Dies she lives in Manchester? Tell me everything you know." Ella commanded.

"Well she's a private person" Ella nodded suspicious. "Her names Y/n...uhm... yes she lives in Manchester and her favourite colour is Y/f/c"

Ella looked at her bestfriend dumbfounded. "Is that everything?" Alessia nodded her head slowly. "Oh dios mío. You really don't know how to talk to people. But let me handle this... Oh I got one. Ask her if she supports United or City."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"So how's bantr?" Lauren Hemp, your bestfriend, welcomed you, when you entered the pitch

"Good morning to you too, and how do you even fucking know about that one?" You asked her confussed while you tied your shoelaces.

"I have my trust sources" You shook your head. Your brother must tell someone and one of his teammates told it Lauren or it was Jack who told then Lauren. "So found any matches?" She asked curious.

"Yeah, I started texting with someone yesterday" You said proudly.

"Show me!" You gave Lauren your phone, so she could read the chat. "Why aren't you answering her?" She shoved your into your face.

"You see the kind off question she wrote down, right? So know imagine she supports fucking united. I wouldn't know what the fuck to do."

"You don't do anything, silly. You just have to shake of your pride and look over this, mate, if you like her. You do, right?" Lauren asked with a smile.

"The fuck, Lauren. I don't even know her. We texted yesterday. How can I like her then?"

"Because I know you. But you can't tell me you don't know anything."

"Well, her name is Alessia-"

"Uh like Alessia Russo." Lauren interrupted you. It was to tease you, because she knew about your rivalery you had in the league and who gets the starting on the Lionesses, since you both a striker.

"Don't Lauren, or I fucking-"

"Hey! Everyone to the middle!" Your coach yelled. As soon as everyone was in position, he went on. "Alright girls. Tomorrow we have a game to warm us up against United next week. As we know Tottenham is nearly on relegation, I do not wanna see any mistakes. It's also important that we win this game, so we are going to be second, since Chelsea lost against Arsenal. And with a win next week we are going to be first." He looked everyone of his players in the eyes. "Okay, so today is a short training with an tactic meeting afterwards. So want you all be ready at 2 o'clock in the meeting."

With that the training started. It was not intense, just something to train the things that didn't worked. After the coach dismissed y'all, you went instenly to your phone, to look what Alessia had texted you. You texted her in a pause.

Well isn't this sad, because I think Manchester is red ;)

You smiled at your phone for a short time. Something that didn't went unnoticed by your bestfriend.

Don't know if you support woman football, but they are playing next week. I think you going to see there, that Manchester is blue.

"Make sure your ready at 2, heartbreacker" Lauren said, when she walked to the showers.

Quickly you grabbed your towel and speeded after her. "Where do you get all this Informationen?.... Wait!... Are you talking with Jack again?" You yelled and ran after her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

In the next days the texting with each other has grow to an routine of the other. When you had your meeting for the game against Tottenham, what you won 4:0 with a hattrick of yours, you couldn't keep your hands and eyes of the screen. It went this far that the coach had to take it away from you.

With the win against Tottenham ManCity was one point apart from ManUnited. The tension got thicker in training and everyone worked hard to win this derby.

You and Alessia had a bet to finally meet after the long time of writting. If City wins Alessia had to orginze the date and if United wins you had to it. It gave you both something to work harder, to impress the other one, even none of you know that you both are playing profionall football for the Manchester clubs.

You felt attracted towards the woman. You liked her personality and of course that she is big football fan, who also watched the womans game. She on the other side felt like she had fallen for you. Alessia was known as a person who falls in love very easily. It has it pros and cons. One con she doesn't even know you properly. She only knew a version you could have created. But she was looking forward to the date.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was matchday. Your nerves went crazy like on every other big game. Steph Houghton gave the last prep talk before everyone lined up after her. You stood to your annoce next to Alessia Russo. You gave each other a look that meant, whoever wins this game gets the starting spot for the upcoming international break.

The game was intense. Both didn't want to give the other the win and with that the first place. It was 35th, when Alessia shot a beautiful goal with an assist from Ella. The United girls celebrated the goal loud with their fans. Then there was halftime. You went with anger of yourself in your locker-room, but it went away quickly, when you saw that Alessia had texted you.

1:0 for me, opps

You wish, honey. City still got full 45 min to score at least one goal

Not going to happen

Ella saw Alessias smile and smiled to herself before she sat next to her. She looked at her bestfriends phone before their coach called for everyones attention.

The game got more intense, than it already was. You had chances over chances, but nothing worked. Neither it was Mary or the last defender.

With that the game ended 1:0 and United stayed on top of the table. You were ready for a teasing comment from Alessia, like always when she wins against you, but that didn't happened. She just ran to the locker room. Weird, you thought. She always stays for the fans in the end. Since you played abroad, you also just went to the locker room. You were frusterated with yourself. You wanted to win against Alessia, but also wanted to impress the girl you had to admit were falling for.

When you entered the locker room you could see the disappointed and frustration in your teammates faces. You the first thing you did after you sat down, like all the other times, you went straight to your phone and of course did Alessia message you.

So since Manchester is red again, where does our date lead us. ;) ♡

Alessia was eager to finally meet you. To see if she not fell for a version the other person created. So she went straight to the lockerroom, forgetting for once the fans and texted you. She knew it sounded desprate, but she hoped you were too. Slowly the other girls were entering the locker room and started to celebrate their.

"Lessi, why are you on your phone? Come celebrate with us. You can text or whatever later." Ona said. But the blonde ressist.

"I'm good Ona" But the spaniard wasn't not pleased with the answer. She wanted to ask Alessia again, but interrupted by Mary, who put the music on.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Today was the day for your meeting with the girl you had fallen for over the last two weeks. It felt like falling for a mystery. Alessia wanted nothing fancy, like going out to a restaurant or something. So you decided to go to Café. Both of you were nervous to meet the other person. Alessia was a mess and put on every outfit she had. But with Ellas help she finally found something to wear. She also helped Alessia with the hair, that she at the end wore down.

You were also not better. Lauren came over and helped you with an outfit and gave advice on how to style your hair, but also to calm down your nerves. She swears she had never seen you this nervous. And of course your brother called you. He told you how he knew you find someone on this app and that he wishes you the best luck. With a look in the mirror you made your way to the Café.

But you still were running late so you texted her about it.

It's fine I'll wait outside

And she did it waited for you, but it looks like you were not coming.

Because you knew that Café very well, you drove a little bit different, so Alessia wouldn't see straight away. With a last look in the mirror of your car, you walked to the Café. But as you got closer to it, you couldn't believe your eyes. Alessia mf Russo stood there with her phone in her hand.

I'm outside. Where are you?

And now it hit you. The name Alessia, supporting Manchester United, having two brother. It now all made sense. And you stood there on your spot frozen and for the first time you didn't know what to do.

"Fuck me"

Part 2 maybe?

[zeezelweazel]

Chloe Kelly| New year, new me|

______________________________________

Happy new year babes!

(I spend fuve hours on Pinterest trying to find that pic omg)

I'm almost at 1k followers and I have no idea what I should do about it 💀

____________________________________________________

You and Chloe decided to spent the holidays with her family and even though it wasn't the first time you two spent the holidays together, somehow this time was special. You loved Chloe's family and they loved you. It was always fun spending time with them but especially during the holidays. Chloe's mom was an exceptional cook and every single dish on the table was to die for.

After everyone arrived the house was very busy. A flurry of kids screaming and chasing eachother around the house, the dogs barking and playing with eachother, different family members engaging in conversation.

You were sitting on the couch in Chloe's arms, the blonde running soft circles on your back while some other family members shared their childhood stories. After one of Chloe's cousins finished his story you turned your eyes to her father who was sitting comfortably on his armchair. You glanced up at your girlfriend and the blonde immediately recognised the mischievous swirl in your eyes. When you looked back to her father you grinned.

"Got any embarrassing stories about little Chloe?"

You heard the family laugh at your question and Chloe groaned, definitely not excited with the direction this conversation was headed to. You sat up excited and Chloe's cheeks flushed red as she pouted like a child. You resisted the urge to press kisses on her face, she looked absolutely adorable like this.

"Well there was that one time, when she..."

You listened to the older man in glee, absolutely delighted with the new blackmail material you were gathering. Chloe herself gave up on sulking about it halfway through the story. Instead the winger focused on you and how stunning you looked. Her chest was warm and her heart fluttered, there's nothing she loves more than seeing you be happy with her family. By the time her father had finished the utterly embarrassing story about her, it was almost time for the count down. The tv was on and the entire family was gathered in the living room where you waited patiently for the new year.

You chose to spent the last few moments of 2023 looking at your girlfriend's beautiful blue eyes. You caressed her face, slowly rubbing your thumb across her cheek, your heart skipping a beat when Chloe leaned into the gentle touch. She brought one of her hands up to your shoulders and the other to the back of your neck where she softly scratched your skin with her nails. You were lost in eachother, not taking notice of anything or anyone in the room.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too baby, more than anything."

What finally dragged you back to the present was the loud noise of everyone clapping their hands in rhythm with the big numbers on the screen. As you watched the time run out you were overwhelmed with the rush of memories of the previous year.

10

9

8

Chloe's bright laughter was the only thing that you could hear with the all that water in your ears. You shook your head trying to get the water out and the blonde inched closer still giggling, whipping the droplets from your eyelids so you can open your eyes. When you did you were met with her warm gaze, the sun illuminating her skin making her hair shine. She looked so beautiful, you felt butterflies dance in your stomach. You grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a soft but passionate kiss.

7

6

5

You looked up at the sky, thousands of snowflakes falling on the ground. Christmas was near and the holiday season made Manchester even prettier than it already is, the heavy snow painting everything white. Chloe's hand felt warm from where your hands were tightly interlinked. You were both quiet but it was a comforting silence, one that let you simply enjoy the moment. "I love you." The words left your lips before you could even think about it, but you didn't need to, her soft lips whisked every thought away.

4

3

2

Your eyes welled with tears of happiness, absolutely overwhelmed with emotions. You looked at the blonde, who was in a similar state and resisted the urge to laugh at how in tune you two were. Instead you grinned waiting for the big moment of the countdown.

1

The next second fireworks blew in the sky, cheers and laughter erupted in the room alongside a bunch of "happy new year!" but the only thing you could focus on was Chloe's lips, the slow push and pull of your lips moving in tandem against eachother. When you finally pulled back you were both slightly out of breath, eyes firmly locked together.

"Happy new year babe."

You smiled and pulled her in a hug softly kissing the top of her head.

"Happy new year, love."

It was all celebrations from there on, the children went to bed and the pets were too tired to keep playing around so only the adults of the family were left, drinking champagne and wine. You were in conversation with Chloe's mom until the blonde grabbed your arm suddenly. You turned to look at her surprised, only to find mischief looking back at you. You were about to open your mouth to question her when she voiced her own idea.

"Wanna hard launch?"

You and Chloe have been dating for years now but you've dine well to keep your relationship under wraps. Obviously there was baseless shipping from the fans but no one could actually say that you guys are together. Her question shocked you because Chloe herself is the reason why this relationship isn't public. The blonde hasn't come out publicly even though her inner circle knows. You're not sure if it's the alcohol talking, because you haven't had a conversation about announcing your relationship for quite a while. Your hesitation must've slipped into your expression because Chloe was frowning now.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"I do! I just... I thought you weren't ready."

Chloe pulls you in a side hug and grins before shrugging her shoulders.

"It's a new year, time for change right?"

yourinstagramuser

Liked by leahwilliamsonn and 107,773 others

yourinstagramuser happy new year to everyone, hopefully another happy year with my love @chloekelly

View all 892 comments

chloekelly my love 🩵🥰

↑ yourinstagramuser babyyy 😍❤️

lauren_hemp so sweet

lj10 finallyyyy I've been waiting for this one

fan1 the hard launch??? Hello??

fan2 I knew I wasn't delusional 😭

fan3 look at my parents you guys, aren't they the cutest

____________________________________________________

[immadowhateva]

I don’t think I could ever be a professional football player. What…what if they’re all straight?!

I mean, I wouldn’t make it.

[skipper1331]

Masterlist

Arsenal WFC

Chelsea FCW

Manchester United

Manchester City

FC Barcelona

FC Bayern

VfL Wolfsburg

Platonic

wips

[futfemfantasies]

Who I Write For:

Arsenal:

- Alessia Russo

- Beth Mead

- Caitlin Foord

- Giovana Queiroz (Gio)

- Jen Beattie

- Katie McCabe

-Kyra Cooney-Cross

- Laura Wienroither

- Leah Williamson

- Lia Wälti

- Lotte Wubben-Moy

- Steph Catley

- Stina Blacksteinus

- Viv Miedema

Barcelona:

- Aitana Bonmati

- Alexia Putellas

- Ana-Maria Crnogorcevic

- Claudia Pina

- Fridolina Rolfö

- Ingrid Engen

- Kiera Walsh

- Lucy Bronze

- Mapi León

- Mariona Caldentey

- Ona Batlle

- Patri Guijarro

Chelsea:

- Guro Reiten - Jessie Fleming - Millie Bright - Niamh Charles - Sam Kerr

Manchester City / United:

- Alanna Kennedy - Alex Greenwood - Chloe Kelly - Ella Toone - Esme Morgan - Katie Zelem - Leila Ouahabi - Mary Earps - Maya Le Tissier

Other:

- Alex Morgan - Ashley Sanchez - Beth England -Charli Grant - Christen Press -Courtney Nevin - Danielle van de Donk - Ellie Carpenter - Emily Sonnett - Georgia Stanway - Hayley Raso - Jenni Hermoso - Jill Roord - Jordan Nobbs - Jule Brand - Kailen Sheridan - Katrina Gorry - Kelley O’Hara - Kristie Mewis - Kyah Simon - Lena Oberdorf - Lindsey Horan - Mackenzie Arnold - Misa Rodriguez - Sophia Huerta - Teagan Micah - Tobin Heath

[alianwer]

مشاهدة مباراة مانشستر سيتي اليوم

يلا شوت بلس | Yalla shoot أهم مباريات اليوم جوال بث مباشر بدون تقطيع

[channelnewswire-blog]

Toolbox Women Weekly Round-Up: Gunners Go Triple Dutch|Arseblog News - the Arsenal news site

NINE IS FINE AS GUNNERS GO DUTCH AGAINST BRIGHTON Arsenal Women continued their 100% start to the 2018/19 season with a 4-1 win over Hope Powell's Brighton & & Hove Albion on Sunday. Toolbox fell back on 9 minutes when Ini Umotong powered through the Gunners defence and guided a surface past Sari van Veenendaal.

However Toolbox went Triple Dutch with objectives from Vivianne Miedema, Danielle van de Donk and Dominique Bloodworth prior to half time, Beth Mead's lob in the passing away moments included some shine to another convincing victory for the women, their ninth on the bounce in the WSL. However the stern difficulty of a trip to 2nd positioned Manchester City looms on the horizon on Sunday.

With the similarity Jordan Nobbs and Jess Samuelsson added to a lengthy injury list, Joe Montemurro was only able to field 4 replacements, 3 of whom were academy players. The City video game comes at a hard time offered how stretched the team is, with Kim Little still a few weeks from physical fitness. Toolbox lead City by 6 points at the top of the table and would undoubtedly think about a point a strong lead to Manchester.

Arsenal Women got rid of early scare to extend unbeaten start to their league campaign Published by The FA Women's Super League on

Monday, 26 November 2018 MEAD RELIEVED TO BE BACK ON THE SCORE SHEET Toolbox striker Beth Mead was relieved to be back amongst the goals on Sunday, as her late lob sealed the 4-1 success. With the likes of Nobbs, van de Donk and Miedema on such sensational scoring type, Mead's relative lack of goals has actually snuck under the radar somewhat. Her great surface on Sunday was just her 3rd goal in the WSL this season.

Stunning surface from @bmeado9 with less than 10 minutes to address Boreham Wood ...

-- The FA Women's Super League (@FAWSL)

November 25, 2018"To be reasonable, it was most likely among my better Toolbox goals so far. I'll take that any day of the week. I 'd take a tap in as I'm having a hard time at the minute to score objectives," Beth informed the FA site. It was a bit discouraging at the start. The pleasing thing was we were making opportunities but simply weren't completing them.

"We adhered to our strategy. We understand the talent we've got in the team and that we can score goals and we kept playing the way we did and ultimately we got our objectives and got the win we deserved. Individuals keep asking me if my objective was a cross however I actually did imply this one."

AVA GOES TO GATORS One of Arsenal's subs on Sunday, 17 year old Ava Kuyken, will leave the club to play for the Florida Gators on a 4 year scholarship. Offers of this ilk are typical for university age gamers and, as I composed back in July, Arsenal are losing a lot of academy talent to the US university system.

This ⚽ originated from throughout the pond 󠁧 󠁢 󠁥 󠁮 󠁧 󠁿!

Ava Kuyken @AvaKuyken MF-- Cherwell School-- Oxford, England-- Club: @ArsenalWFC Played w/ England's U15, U16, U17 & & U18 National Teams. 󠁧 󠁢 󠁥 󠁮 󠁧 󠁿 ➡ 2018 FIFA European Championship last in Lithuania Now in second season on Toolbox WFC #GoGators pic.twitter.com/bSHS5ehZI9-- Gators Soccer(@GatorsSoccer)

November 23, 2018 Shannon Cooke joined LSU this summer season,

with fellow centre halves Anna Patten and Lotte Wubben Moy having actually left for the US in 2017. Given the scholarship opportunities, it is totally reasonable that players opt to leave for the states and Arsenal are in conversations with the FA about how they can be better compensated for these transfers. Ava will sign up with the Florida Gators in 2019, so she will be offered for upcoming video games versus

Manchester City, Charlton Athletic and Millwall Lionesses. Her loss is unfortunate, however not entirely unexpected. Ava joined Toolbox from Oxford United in 2016, her father is a teacher of Scientific Psychology at Oxford University. A JESS AND A CURSE Swedish right-back Jess Samuelsson has suffered another injury on her foot and faces another spell on the sidelines. Jess suffered an extremely unpleasant injury last October when she collided with Sweden goalkeeper Hedvig Landahl and dislocated 2 metatarsal bones, tearing the majority of the ligaments in her foot as she did. A post shared by Jessica Samuelsson (@jessicasamuelsson15) on Nov 25, 2018 at 4:11 pm PST Jess made her international resurgence versus England a fortnight ago, but the joy was brief lived as the exact same foot is injured again. Arsenal are being tight lipped on the seriousness of the injury, but Samuelsson was imagined using a protective boot as she saw her colleagues beat Brighton on Sunday.

COMING UP There will obviously be a complete match sneak peek for Sunday's huge game away at Manchester City on the site on Friday afternoon. There will likewise be some perk content on Wednesday. I spoke with Scandinavian women's football specialist Katja Kragelund about new signing Janni Arnth, the Danish protector who will join the Gunners from Linkopings in January.

Katja informed me, "Janni is a really skilled centre back, who has exceptional leadership qualities and is a design specialist. Like a lot of Scandinavian centre backs, she is tough and she likewise has a good variety of passing." Stay tuned for the full short article on Wednesday on Arseblog News.

[alotofpockets]

Sam Mewis Appreciation

woso appreciation masterlist | with @totaly-obsessed

[alotofpockets]

A piece of home | Kerstin Casparij x Dutch!Reader

Where you're studying in Manchester and find a piece of home in Kerstin.

(Dutch / -English translation-) & @totaly-obsessed thank you for proofreading!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.2k

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As you settle in one of your favourite coffee shops, you put on your headphones and get your books and notes out of your bag. You had a big exam coming up, and you were planning on spending the morning here studying for it. 

A soft tap on your shoulder is what interrupts your deep focus. You turn, and are met with the hopeful gaze of a girl. Adjusting one side of your noise-cancelling headphones you acknowledge her presence. “Hey, sorry to interrupt. I was wondering if I could sit here.” She points to the seat opposed to you. “The rest of the place is packed.” Glancing around, you realise for the first time how busy it had gotten since you had sat down about an hour ago.

“Sure, take a seat.” You smile softly at her, and move some of your books to the side. She places her coffee order on the table, “Thank you, and I promise I won’t distract you again.” You chuckle and shake your head, “You’re fine, don’t worry.” 

With your headphones back on, you block out the noise in the shop again, and focus back on your notes. The girl in front of you had opened up her laptop, and was intensely watching the screen, and taking notes from time to time. A part of you wondered what she was doing, but she was just a stranger that wanted to sit down in the last empty seat in the coffee shop, and you were just the kind stranger that allowed her to. So, you push the thought to the back of your mind, and flip the page of your notebook to continue reading your notes. 

The soft buzzing of your phone on the table is the next cause of your focus leaving your school work. Flipping the phone, you smiled at the name that popped up on your screen. Your little sister pulling a silly face covers your screen as you pick up the facetime call. “Hey kleintje.” -Hey little one.- You say with a big smile on your face, “Ik ben aan het leren in een café dus ik kan niet lang bellen, maar hoe was school?” -I’m studying in a coffee shop, so I can’t call long, but how was school?-  Since you moved to Manchester to study abroad, you have called with her every single day. Your mom had been nervous to have another kid so long after she had you at eighteen. The age difference between you and your sister was twelve years, but she was your little best friend from day one. You listen to your sister tell you about her day, before you hang up the phone again, with the promise to call her for longer later that day. 

You look up to find the girl in front of you looking at you. She blushes when she realises you caught her looking. “Sorry, ik probeerde niet te luisteren, maar het is goed om Nederlands te horen tussen al deze Engelse mensen.” -Sorry, i didn’t mean to listen, but it’s so good to hear Dutch amongst all these English people.- You hadn’t expected her to start talking in Dutch and were taken back slightly, before your smile grew. “Zeg dat wel, wat toevallig dat je nou net bij mij komt zitten” -You can say so, what a coincidence that you came to sit with me.-  You laugh at the coincidence, before introducing yourselves to each other. 

Your books and her laptop were long forgotten, as you got to know each other. Kerstin ordered the both of you another coffee, and a few croissants for lunch. 

Over the next couple of months you found a piece of home in each other. You often found yourselves back at the coffee shop where you met, the shop where your love story began. It had become a part of your routine, you would study, and she would analyse matches. Having found out what she was doing on her laptop after all.

Kerstin was going to national team camp back in your home country, which was perfectly timed with your week off and week of online classes, so you headed back home with her with the plan to meet each other’s families for the first time.

While she had to meet her teammates for camp right away, you went home to your family. You opened the front door with your key, and not two seconds later your little sister jumped into your arms. “Je bent thuis!” -You’re home!- You hold her tight, “Ik heb jou ook gemist, kleintje." -I’ve missed you too little one.- It was nice being able to catch up with your sister, mom and stepdad a little before you would introduce them to your girlfriend.

After two days of training, Kerstin had a day off. You took the train and met her in Utrecht, where you spent some time together, before you headed off to meet her family first since she hadn’t seen them since she got here. 

Her home felt warm, and comfortable from the moment you stepped inside and were welcomed by her parents and two brother’s with open arms. The nerves you had felt on the way here vanished instantly at how great they were. You got to know them over a home-cooked dinner, and a few boardgames after. When it was time to head to bed, you felt like you had known her family for years.

-----

kerstin_casparij just posted

kerstin_casparij: Always 🧀ing with this one

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After a lovely breakfast with her family, you made the trip back to your place. This time bringing Kerstin along. With your girlfriend’s hand in yours, you let her into your home. She was welcomed just as warmly into your family as you were into hers. It made you really happy, especially since she was the first girl you had ever brought home to meet them. 

Kerstin’s bubbly personality was a perfect match for the ball of energy that was your sister. You were watching them interact with each other. Your mom noticed the loving look in your eyes and nudged you slightly, “Dat zet je aan het denken, hè?” -Makes you think, right?- Her comment brought a blush to your cheeks, and made the butterflies in your stomach spring into action. 

With a match to play in Breda, Kerstin had invited your family to watch the match in the family and friend’s section. She has also asked your sister if she wanted to walk onto the field with her.

You were grateful for the fans that had filmed the interactions between Kerstin and your sister, and had posted them on TikTok. They were in your favourites folder, and you were watching them on repeat back in your apartment. You were so focussed on them, that you didn’t hear Kerstin walk up behind you and watch over your shoulder. 

“Hoe vaak was dat?” -How many times was that?- You turn around instantly with widened eyes. Kerstin’s smirk grows when your face looks like you felt caught. “You’re cute. Ik hou van je.” -I love you- She places a soft kiss on your lips. “Ik hou ook van jou.” -I love you too.- 

She sits down beside you, and you cuddle into her side. “Klaar om je zusje te bellen?” -Ready to call your sister?-

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y/n_y/l/n saved TikToks

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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[alotofpockets]

Cait, Macca & Lani Appreciation

Request a player | with @totaly-obsessed