requests are: CLOSED (for one shots/long fics. requests for blurbs, headcanons & ficlets are still open)
who i write for: the matildas, arsenal women, jessie fleming, grace clinton, niamh charles, guro reiten, kate martin & kk harvey
all my fav fics under #p’s recs
my links
about me , prompt list, blurb night info
jessie fleming links
fic masterlist, blurb masterlist, wip list, piper’s world series
masterlists
woso, wip list, non woso
all fics can be found under the following tags:
#jflemings woso
#jflemings tillies
#jflemings writes
next blurb night:
i hold a blurb night once a month. it’s where people can send me reqs/prompts along with a player and i turn them into blurbs, headcanons or occasionally ficlets! these requests can be found under #jflemings blurb night
synopsis: you finally find your person. red string of fate au.
warnings: i’m rusty, this hasn’t been proofread and it’s short
a/n: i’m not going to bore you with all the reasons why i’ve been so absent this year, just know that i have been to the ninth circle of hell and back. anyway here’s this, it’s something a bit different and i hope you enjoy it because i enjoyed writing it. i hope you’re all doing well <3
୧ ‧₊˚ 🧶 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
there were three things guaranteed in the world: life, death, and the person on the other end of the red string that the universe deems your soulmate. your cosmic other half. two parts of the same being in two seperate bodies.
something you’re born with tethering you to a complete stranger you’re destined to love until the day you die. some people never meet their person on the other end of their red string, the deep rooted longing and heartache permanent until your last dying breath. they’re called the unfound.
you’d heard stories growing up about the unfound. the ones that never find out who’s on the other end of their string. some people search the world for the one they’re looking for, whilst others choose someone else. someone they love all on their own without divine intervention.
the ones who can’t deal with the pain cut their string, stop the search, end the heartbreak of longing. you’ve only ever seen it happen once. your college roommate who’d decided in a fit of rage that she didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to know, didn’t want to deal with the pain any longer. the two of you watched the string turn dull and grey as it fell to the floor by her feet and she had cried for days afterwards before her dad had to collect her and take her home. when she returned after the winter break she wasn’t the same.
she’s married now, with a nice looking husband and two kids that have her eyes. you never asked what it felt like. didn’t want to know. her new post on instagram announcing her third pregnancy pops up onto your feed and you wonder if her husband ever asks about it, about why she’s unfound. why she’s never looked.
you like the post, comment a congratulations and hope that she can’t feel your wonder from the other side of the country.
letting out a long breath through your nose you turn your phone face down on top of the table and return to attempting to finish your midterm report. the saturday morning early risers float in and out of the cafe, always somewhere to go, somewhere better to be, whilst you sit and suffer the consequences of mild procrastination alone. the coffee beside you is no longer steaming and the breakfast sandwich you ordered remains half eaten as you type away, completely oblivious to the comings and goings around you.
enough time passes that the sun has now fully risen in the sky, your little corner beside the window warming enough for you to take off your jacket. your second coffee of the morning is almost finished and the teenager working came and took away your empty plate five minutes ago.
you take no notice of the the bell above the door jingling until you feel the familiar tug on your right pinky. your heart lurches in your throat when you look over and see her.
there, standing in line waiting to order, was the person you’d been waiting your entire life for. dressed in a pair of cuffed, blue baggy jeans and a beige and green boxy tee is your person. from where you’re sitting you can’t see her face that’s partially hidden behind brown, wavy, shoulder length hair but you can see her seemingly mindlessly scrolling on her phone, not knowing that she’s just walked into the same building the universe has deemed her perfect match.
the air has been punched out of your lungs. your hands are kind of sweaty and you suddenly can’t feel your toes. people continue to move around the cafe whilst you sit frozen, your eyes locked on her form.
you tug the string minutely, eyes focused on her pinky as it pulls ever so slightly, your heart pounding wildly in your ears. you can’t believe it. this was it. this was her. your soulmate, your cosmic match, the person the universe hand picked for you and she was standing ten feet away from you for the first time in your life.
her head snaps towards you and a jolt of electricity shot down your spine as you look into her brown eyes. her eyes trail down from your face to your hand, following the string until it lead back to her. she pockets her phone and delicately holds the red string between her thumb and forefinger, beginning to wrap it around her thumb. the shorter the string got the closer she moved, her steps small but deliberate as they lead to you.
blood rushed through your ears, loud and unforgiving as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. you stand as she continues to wrap the string around her thumb before stopping in front of you, looking into your eyes and smiling.
“i’m jessie” she says, eyes twinkling.
your hand reaches for her own and you grasp her thumb, now coiled up with a lifetime worth of searching. “y/n” you say a bit breathless “i’ve been waiting my whole life for you”
hello. ive been sick and had some personal stuff going on and have left the requests that you guys sent a few weeks ago half baked in my drafts. apologise. for my apology i will be posting them and a kyra fic and a piper’s world fic.
gonna do a few lil blurbs/one shots to get back in the groove of writing consistently again. if you’ve got a specific player or request hit my inbox since i cleaned it out!
also prompt masterlist is here if ur stuck for ideas :)
So happy to see piper’s world is back :) not sure if it’s already in the plans but would you be open to writing a fic/blurb about how Jessie and Reader talk to piper about being together? Does she figure it out on her own or do they sit down with her and explain?
I think in Busted Piper mentioned R and Jessie being “best friends” and then at some point that escalates and Piper calls Jessie her mom. I’m just curious about that transition.
*cracks knuckles* i’m so fucking back baby
OK!!! so, when ‘busted’ takes place, reader and jessie have been seeing each other (mostly in secret) for a few months. jessie had been hanging around a lot more by that point (sleeping over, doing activities, generally being present in piper’s life) but the reason niamh and sam didn’t know that jessie was around a lot is because piper wasn’t hanging around chelsea a lot. before jessie, her only connection to the club is sam which means that she’s not going to be going to trainings or games or anything because if she needs to be babysat she goes to one of the arsenal girls.
i just thought i’d clear that up first.
after ‘busted’ jessie and reader explain to piper that they’re in a relationship and piper is just kind of like ‘ok!!!!’ because nothing really changes. the only big difference is now piper spends more time with a few of the chelsea girls (like niamh!).
the transition from ‘best friends’ to ‘mum’ is somewhat gradual, even if it doesn’t look like it in my fics. its very obvious that piper takes to jessie quickly, calling her ‘my jessie’ instead of ‘mum’s girlfriend’, because piper feels a sense of almost ‘ownership’ over jessie the same way she feels ‘ownership’ over reader.
(like when kids get defensive or possessive of their parents)
she feels this way because jessie acts like a parent before taking on an official parental role.
people also kept referring to jessie as piper’s other mum example is here so that also kind of influenced her.
all in all, very natural transition. id be more than happy to expand on it in a fic tho!
synopsis: you and piper settle in for your first night alone in london
warnings: angst, talks of regret, the horrors of being in ur early 20s and not having anything figured out x100, also not proofread SORRYYYYY
a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend, SHES BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK (and rusty. whoops 🙂)
୧ ‧₊˚ 🧺⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
“i know, i know, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry” you whisper as piper continues to wail. you pace back and forth in your bedroom, the rain pelting your window not letting up.
you’d tried everything to get piper down but nothing had worked. not a bottle, a song, not pacing through the house or rocking her back and forth. it didn’t matter that your little girl was exhausted, she didn’t want to sleep. she’d been going down easier the first few days you were here but now it was as if nothing was going to soothe her.
your parents had helped you do the bulk of the moving but they’d flown back to australia in the morning, leaving you and piper alone for the first time in a week. it was the first time you’d been without your mum since you had piper and you were really starting to feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.
exhaustion began to settle into your bones and your eyes began prickling with the first warning of tears. you weren’t going to cry. you weren’t. you could do this. you had to do this. you do one final lap of the apartment before going into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed, your hushed whispers still being drowned out by the slowly dwindling cries of your baby.
you pull piper closer to your chest and breathe in deeply, trying to keep your emotions at bay. you weren’t an angry person and although you’d gotten frustrated over piper plenty of times before, you’d never let it get the best of you. the palm of your hand runs up and down her back repeatedly and you softly sing nursery rhymes into her ear, rocking back and forth slightly like your mum had shown you.
wails turn to tired sobs and babbling. piper finally calms down enough for you to place her in her crib, and you find yourself standing over her even after small puffs of breath escape her lips. for the first time since getting to london, you cry.
hot tears create tracks down your face, searing your skin and soothing your aching heart. it was hard. so fucking hard. and now you were truly doing it on your own. your parents were half a world away and you’re twenty one and feeling like you’re way in over your head. the move was a good move. the right move, is what you’ve been telling yourself. good for you and your little girl, an opportunity that you couldn’t pass up. a chance to not only play against some of the best in the world, but to make a promising life for you and piper.
that doesn’t do much to quell the sickness deep in your gut.
there was no turning back now, not with the three year contract you’ve just signed. not with what the media was saying about you being both a young mum and a promising young player. the future of the matildas they called you. a mistake that’ll cost her career they say.
powerful. trailblazer. strong.
you didn’t feel like any of those things.
you felt weak, and more like the kid that would sleep in your parent’s bed during heavy storms than a mother that was responsible for another living, breathing human.
but you are a kid, aren’t you? still not fully developed as a person or a player. still making mistakes that could cost you everything.
“you’re always going to make mistakes, that’s apart of life.” sam had said to you during your first camp back with australia. “it’s whether or not you let those mistakes define you” steph told you when you called her before signing the contract.
“mistakes make you human” is what polks assured you quietly in the dressing room.
you’ve never felt more human than in this very moment.
the mattress squeaks under your weight slightly as you sit back on your bed, shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes and practicing breathing exercises you’ve been doing since you first found out you were pregnant and steph had to talk you down from a panic attack over the phone. the ghost of the positive pregnancy test still sits heavy in your hand sometimes.
sometimes, during those fleeting moments, you wonder if you’ve done the wrong thing. if you really had made a mistake that was now something you wouldn’t fix, something you wouldn’t take back even if you had the chance.
because in front of you, now sleeping peacefully, is your little girl. the rain will continue to pour, a part of you will always need to crawl into the warmth and safety of your mother’s arms, and for now you’re still twenty one and overwhelmed and exhausted to your core, but you’re determined.
determined to get this right, determined to raise this little girl the best way you know how.