hi, welcome back! can i please request one for jordan henderson where he asks her to buy whatever she wants for her birthday (with his money, as a gift) and she buys herself a necklace with his initials. he goes crazy when he sees it and it’s all cute and fluff<3 (this is actually tiktok-inspired!) thank you!
I got carried away & put my own little spin on it...hope you love it! please do let me know x
call it what you want with Jordan Henderson
I don’t want to remember life before him, before us. Of course, I do - how could I forget? After years of cataclysmically bad press surrounding my latest two albums, subsequent hate and the overwhelming threat of irrelevance that pulled me under and kept me indoors and out of the public eye for months on end - I stumbled, quite literally, into my Jordan.
It was late November, cold and dark in dreary Liverpool. Don’t ask why I was there - perhaps it was because I had a friend living in Merseyside who promised I could fly under the radar because “no one here cares about anything other than the pub or football, or watching the football at the pub”. Unsurprisingly, I became one of these people because there I was at the local, carrying myself a pint of apple cider with just a little bit of ice in it and bumping into Liverpool’s captain. At first I kept moving, after apologising, with my eyes set and keen on the table with my friend waiting for me with her mouth screwed up trying not to laugh at my well known clumsiness.
I’m not sure if it was the yellow lights in the garden area or the beanie that covered what I now know to be his dirty blonde, yet forever golden, hair - the warmth that encapsulated my soul with just a look in his eyes and a mumble of “no problems” from his mackem mouth was enough to set my grey world alight. You can call it what you want, but this was the exact moment my world changed.
My baby's fly like a jet stream
High above the whole scene
Loves me like I'm brand new
After months of relentless messages and lowkey, albeit it slightly underground, dates I eventually gave in to what was inevitable - he was my person. He taught me how to be loved irrespective of what has been tied to my tired heart. He loved me like I was brand new and in a way, I was. I was brand new to him. I was brand new to us and our snowballing love which, like its namesake, seemed to grow at an immeasurable rate.
He respected my boundaries with the media and press, I knew who he was on our first date - he was honest and told me about his profession, I was honest and told him about my career as an artist. He asked what I was doing in little old England, I told him I needed a break from myself. He made sure I felt safe enough with him that I could be blissfully unaware of the outside world, if it was my choosing to do so. In saying all of this, I also admitted my own mistakes with many of my past relationships and owned up to all of the burned bridges left in my path, however I was sure that in my past life I must have done atleast one thing right to end up in his path. This world may be a mess but laughing with him under the covers on a mundane Tuesday evening made everything ok. His starry eyes truly do brighten up my darkest nights. You can call it what you want, but I know that this is simple, pure and honest.
I want to wear his initial
On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck
Not because he owns me
But 'cause he really knows me
11 months after that first spill, of both my drink and my heart, it was my birthday. We had agreed no presents - from both of us, for each other, for all occasions. This birthday of mine was the first in many years where I truly didn't have a wish for anything different than what was currently in my life. This birthday was also the first in many years where my wish was for someone else, for Jordan, to feel the same happiness that I do every time I look at him.
He had respected my boundaries with going public and never pressured me, we had kept this love bubble secure for 11 months already - with only our nearest and dearest being allowed in. I supported him wholeheartedly in every venture, both professionally and personally in private. If anything that the last almost-year had shown me was just how much it meant that he had taken the time to get to know me, and care about me enough to do so. No one else had ever taken the time.
So there I was, the evening of my 29th birthday, sitting upstairs in my dressing room while my friends and his - our friends - sat around the table downstairs laughing and chattering and reminiscing on life both before and after the amalgamation of both Jordan and I. Looking at myself in the mirror, for the first time not wanting anything to change, wishing I could freeze this moment in time forevermore. I didn't even hear Jordan come into the room let alone come up behind me, wrapping both arms around my shoulders and resting his left cheek to my right one, both of us breathing each other in.
“I have something for you” I whispered into the silence.
“But it’s your birthday, why am I getting a gift” He whispered back.
“This is for me, as much as it is for you”
In the reflection of the mirror, he watched me pull the drawer out and pick up a chain. I looked up and held his eye contact. He held out his hand and I dropped the chain in his palm. He pulled his chest away from my back, pulled my hair to one side and looked back at me in the mirror.
Slowly he grabbed the other end of the chain, brought it around my front and laid it across my collarbones. Focusing on closing the dainty clasp and settling his breathing, he took a moment to himself before looking at the reflection once again. Staring back at him against my skin, the initial J. Simple, pure and honest. You can call it what you want - it was love.
This story is for everyone who has ever felt that their heart is too dark to ever see the sun again, and yet, love always finds a way. Love is many a splendid thing, and this angel heralds the coming of a love that neither Josephine Anderson or John Stones can fight. Maybe this isn't a story about angels that your priest would recognise, but she’s heaven-sent nonetheless.
story warnings; mental health disorders, eating disorders, self-love confrontation & NSFW scenes. These scenes are scattered throughout all parts as they are integral to the story line and character development. NSFW scenes are highlighted below with a smut warning. Please consume at your own risk.
LINKS BELOW TO ALL PARTS (as they are uploaded);
NEW PARTS RELEASED FRIDAY WEEKLY AT 5PM AEST.
PART 1.
PART 2. (smut warning)
PART 3.
PART 4.
PART 5. (smut warning)
PART 6.
PART 7.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support on my previous works, this one is a special one for me and I hope you love it as much as I do.
STEPHSPURS. - THE MASTERLIST
ONLY ANGEL - FANFICTION MASTERLIST
The lights go down, the room turns dark, a murmur of people still trying to find their seats settles into the otherwise silence. The floor to ceiling screen behind the runway awakens to show a video montage of arguably the most famous supermodels in the world. “It’s difficult being a woman, and other women understand that...but it’s also fun to be a woman and I think we should be able to own that”
The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is unlike any other in the world, it is the equivalent of the SuperBowl for supermodels. Bodies like Gisele Bundchen, Heidi Klum, Tyra Banks, grace the runway year in year out for the most-celebrated lingerie event in the runway calendar. A change of scenery for the traditionally American-based fashion show saw the glittery stage set up and a plethora of beautiful women touch down in London town.
Josephine Andersen, a 25 year old Danish-born supermodel found herself sitting backstage in hair and makeup, in a scantily-clad lingerie set with the iconic barely-there silk wrap adorned with the famous branding across the back of her shoulders and ‘Angel Josephine’ across her left side, right above her beating heart. Make no mistake, Josephine was meant to be here. She had worked hard every single day since the last runway event that she was fortunate enough to have walked in for the lingerie brand, to prove her rightful place as an Angel.
Yes, success is the direct result of hard work - and there was no denying that Josephine was a hard worker. She knew that she wasn’t special, and like most, she would have to work for what she wanted out of her life. What she didn’t know before going into the modelling industry at the ripe old age of 13, was that it was as mentally challenging as it was physical. Everyday was a constant battle between her head, her heart, and her agent. Nevertheless, she was aware of how difficult it was to be a woman, but she was also aware of just how fun it could be too.
John Stones, a 27 year old Barnsley-born (although his mate Kyle Walker would argue the point that his postcode says Sheffield but that's a story for another time) footballer for Manchester City Football Club, found himself sitting front row of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show in London. He had never attended an event quite like it before, his mates sat either side of him ready to enjoy the spectacle that he didn’t think he would ever have the pleasure of attending. With the current season underway and the fact that his home club was a whole 4 hour drive away from his current location, it was a small miracle that the group of lads from Manchester were allowed to attend at all. These boys were down for a night of beautiful women, lingerie and getting up to no good.
The music started, the screen went black, the crowd erupted in applause for the first model through the parting screen - Angel Josephine. Strutting down the runway to Harry Styles' live version of Only Angel, John was mesmerised by the woman before him. She was working the crowd, sensual glances, little smirks, a cheeky grin here and there. Standing at the end of the runway, facing the abundance of cameras, Josephine gave her best smile and a confident wink to the camera before tossing her hair over her shoulder and proceeding to walk back up the runway.
John hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the girl, he wasn’t sure he had blinked since she stepped foot out on the runway - if he closed his eyes for just a millisecond he would miss too much. He was addicted to her beauty, never having seen something so ethereal in his life. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the champagne, but he honestly believed that there was an angel before him. Following her with his eyes as she walked back towards where he was seated, he made eye contact with her and she held it. Sending him a wink, and blowing him a kiss before smirking to herself and exiting the stage. She had no idea the effect that she had on the otherwise cocky man, she had reduced him to a puddle of mush, too intimidated by her beauty. The moment she was out of his sight, it was like he could breathe again, the sound that was previously muted around him returned to its full volume and his tunnel vision had widened to take in the whole show. Taking another sip of his champagne, he caught the eye of his best friend Kyle (yes, the same Kyle from earlier) who smirked and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Kyle had seen the whole interaction, albeit limited and largely one sided, and knew exactly what kind of trouble his friend could get himself into here.
Backstage Josephine was being ushered from the runway to the small curtain that was hanging from a clothes rack, providing a make-shift dressing room for her to strip off of the current segments undergarments and into the next set that had been so kindly draped over the top rail by one of the wardrobe assistants. Normally she would be thriving under the fast paced nature of the evening, the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a drug, however she was encumbered by her own thoughts of the devilishly handsome man in the front row. His eyes were engraved in the back of her mind, when she shut her own eyes she could see the intensity of his stare - it was numbing her, slowing her down. She was desperate for another glance at him, being brought back into the moment by the yell of a backstage hand asking for her to hurry and get into her next wings, she stripped and redressed. Was she lightheaded from the pressure that she had placed on herself to prepare for the evening, or was it because he seemed to take up all of the air in the room and space in her brain? She could argue that she was fulfilling her role as an Angel by winking at him and blowing him a little kiss. It was her job to flirt with the crowd and put on a show after all, but she knew exactly what her intentions were and they were nothing but devilish.
Perhaps the only event more iconic than the fashion show itself, the afterparty was what most people involved in the show looked forward to. The humans, even with their celebrity status, had the opportunity to mix with the angels - who, for one night only, let go of their halos and swapped them for horns. For one night, the beautiful women of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show in all of their angelic glory; could be as bad as they dared to. This was the unspoken truth of the after party, and if you had the fortune of being able to attend, it was not an event easily passed up.
John found himself once again surrounded by his mates, mingling with the models and his celebrity pals alike. Not once had he forgotten about the first angel he had ever laid eyes on, he didn’t even know her name but by God did he know her body. It was as though the 30-odd seconds she was before him his eyes scanned her from head to toe, every curve of her body engraved into his memory. He could remember how the light reflected off of the body shimmer she had bathed in before walking the runway, how the curve of her waist continued at the perfect degree to complete her perfectly-sized derriere. Before long, he felt the room get smaller and smaller, the air was thicker and his hearing had started to muffle. She was standing in his direct line of sight - not that it would matter if she was standing on the other side of the room, behind a crowd of people, John’s eyes would find and fixate on her.
John watched as she worked the room, obligatory pleasantries flowing from her lips as she double kissed the cheeks of men who were old enough to be her grandfather. He watched their leather-like hands wrap themselves around her lower back, too low for his liking. He watched her smile and pretend that she was comfortable, but he could see the look behind her eyes scream that she shouldn’t trust their words - that they didn’t want to just buy her a drink. Without realising, his hands started to curl around his scotch glass until he had to put it down on the table before him and excuse himself from the company of his friends and the new company they had invited to their table. Weaving his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the side of her face, he began to make his way towards her. No plan of action, nothing to say, anything would be good enough in an attempt to rescue her from what is looking to be her own personal version of hell. As though the universe had willed it, she looked into the crowd and locked onto the gaze of the tall man who was currently striding towards her. The look on his face told everyone around them that they weren’t to get in his way, to mess with him.
Reaching her, she held her breath and waited for his next steps. Josephine didn’t know what to expect, but the handsome smile that erupted from his previously pursed lips and filled up his face had sent her heart into a frenzy. For just that moment, she chose to believe that that smile was reserved for her and only her. Reaching forward and coincidentally knocking the older man’s arm from around her waist and replacing it with his own, he leant forward and planted a loud kiss to her cheek before wrapping her in a hug that warmed her soul. Her whole body pushed into his, she was unable to see his face but she could hear his heart and it told her that she was safe.
“I’m so proud of you, babe. I reckon I'm the luckiest guy in the room to be able to call you my girlfriend” He said into her ear, loud enough for the group of older men to hear and begin to talk amongst themselves after realising they had no chance with the Danish beauty, not that she ever gave them that impression to begin with.
Pulling away from the tall man, she looked up at him and gave him her best smile, a sincere smile. She ran her hands down from his back and found his hands that were placed on her waist, lacing their fingers together and pulling him off into the crowd to the bar.
“So, boyfriend, do you have a name?” She spoke whilst picking up the vodka on the rocks - not her favourite drink but it had little to no calories and anything that had a calorie count lower than her weight, which was difficult enough to find in the first place, was a win in her eyes.
“John, but I prefer to be called your boyfriend, even if it's only for one night” John spoke back to her, looking down at the angel who had covered herself up a bit more since the last time he had the pleasure of looking at her. However, the outfit she was currently wearing still allowed John’s mind, and eyes, to wander. A secret moment shared between the two in an overcrowded room.
Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...
ONLY ANGEL - JOHN STONES FANFICTION
This story is for everyone who has ever felt that their heart is too dark to ever see the sun again, and yet, love always finds a way. Love is many a splendid thing, and this angel heralds the coming of a love that neither Josephine Anderson or John Stones can fight. Maybe this isn't a story about angels that your priest would recognise, but she’s heaven-sent nonetheless.
IMAGINES - ALPHABETICAL ORDER BY PLAYER SURNAME
afterglow with trent alexander-arnold
roommates with ben chilwell
just friends with jack grealish
best mistake with jack grealish
the first goal with jack grealish
the age gap with jordan henderson
not supposed to know each other yet with tyrone mings
celebrity gogglebox with mason mount ft. declan rice
My loves, this is the end of AFA & I can't tell you how sad I am for this little story to be over :( There are a couple of people I need to thank so bear with me...Amy (@footballffbarbiex) for making me believe I could write this and that people will want to read it, thank you forever. Em (@emwritesfootball) for being my fabulous proof reader and always being there for me to bounce ideas off of, thank you. And to allllllllllll of you who read, like, reblog and message me - THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!! Ok enough with my Oscar's speech, please enjoy la parte finale.
Love always, Steph xx
Part 12 | la parte finale
warnings; none - except maybe tears because this is the final part :(
word count; 2367
writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.
tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven
link to fic masterlist here
The end of the international break had approached both squads with rapid speed, before they knew it the 3 weeks was up and it was time for their final friendly match before returning to club duties. It was a rematch of the European final from just a few months earlier, only this time - it was being played in Rome. Preparing her team to meet their opponents had been a bit trickier than last time. Of course, the boys were fired up and raring to go, but the bitterness and anger that drove her to push them harder last time wasn’t there. They were now going up against some of her closest friends as well as her family.
In a strange moment of deja vu, Amelia looked down the tunnel as both teams lined up side by side to walk out onto the pitch together. Just like the last time, her father passed her and gave her a reassuring rub to the back of her neck and made his way down through the centre aisle with his staff. Following him, and just like last time, she made her way down whilst pressing a kiss to both cheeks of her Italian men. Reaching her brother, she pressed a kiss to his cheek also, however unlike the last time he gave her a wink back. The atmosphere was different this time, it was a friendly game and there was no title at stake here - only pride. This time, however, as she passed the Three Lions Number 21, her right hand found his left one for just a moment, before giving it a gentle squeeze and continuing down her own line. He had maintained his focus forward, didn’t even blink at the girl’s actions, and by the time she got to Fede who had been watching the encounter she had made her mind up that he wanted nothing to do with her.
This friendly-match had Amelia in a bundle of nerves, dissimilar to the euro final, Amelia was confident in her ability purely due to the fact that she was well prepared. This time however, whilst she was just as well-prepared as last time, she also knew that a fair few English players had adopted her playing style as their own and knew the kind of tactic required to stop the Italian attack and penetrate the great wall of Rome: Chiellini and Bonucci. This, coupled with the fact that both sides seemed to be playing with a touch more aggression than she expected, led to her being on the edge of her seat for most of the game. A late first half goal from Jorginho had her up out of her seat, cheering for the midfield maestro. However, it was a late second half goal that had her smiling from ear to ear, whilst trying to remember to keep her bum in her chair - she wasn’t supposed to be cheering for the enemy after all. How could she not though? Ben Chilwell had scored the equaliser. Using the play they had spent so many hours perfecting, just the two of them out on the pitch at Cobham. Scoring his goal, celebrating with his team and the away fans, she had clapped with an appropriate level of enthusiasm until she noticed him look her way, pull the centre of his jersey toward his face and give it a kiss. She moved her hand to touch that spot on her own jersey. Fingers running over the embroidery that she had stitched into every one of her official matchday tops, a memento to keep her family close to her heart - the embroidery featured the word ‘WHITE’ followed by the colours of the italian flag. For this match however, she had something extra added. Did Ben know about her newest addition?
After the match.
“Chilwell! Wait Up!” Federico Bernardeschi called down the tunnel whilst jogging to catch up with his opposition player.
“Can I give you some advice? Don’t let her go. I did, and whilst it was the right thing for me to do, it's something I regret deeply. You don’t realise just how much she adds to your life until she's gone. You’ll come to realise that she is the sunshine after any storm, but she is also the storm itself. Any day without her is a little less bright.”
In a moment of vulnerability, Ben decided to open up to the man that he didn’t know more than a bar of soap, who was coincidentally the same man who knew all there was to know about Amelia.
“She really is sunshine personified, isn’t she?” Ben smiled at the thought of the girl, thinking back on all of the laughs that they shared together in Mykonos.
“Normally yes, but these past few weeks that she has been without you she has been a little less bright. You complete her, whether she has realised yet I’m not sure but I am sure that she misses you. I think more than she ever missed me.”
“Ben, there are two kinds of compliments you can give a woman. The first, something she already thinks about herself but needs reconfirmed. The second, the things she doesn’t think anyone else notices about her. The second kind matters more.”
“You like because, and you love despite. Think about that Ben.”
“I don’t know if I love her, yet.”
“I think you do know. Otherwise you wouldn’t have asked the kitman for a little something extra on tonight's jersey.”
“What are you talking about? How do you know?”
“Ah, Benjamin, a good spy never tells his secrets” With that, Federico continued his walk back to the changerooms. “She’s out on the pitch, Ben.” He called without looking back, confident that the player was already making his way out there.
Walking up to the centre circle, where Amelia was currently sitting down on the pitch with her arms behind her and her legs stretched out in front. Taking in the atmosphere of Stadio Olympico in Rome, her favourite stadium in the world. What surprised her the most was just how quickly Stamford Bridge had crept itself up the ranks and into the second spot of her heart.
Without wanting to startle her, Ben started talking to her from a few meters away - not bothered about the few lingering souls out and about. This was his time to make her his, and nothing was going to get in his way.
“You know, a wise person once said to me that you like someone because, but you love them despite” He called out to her.
Turning around, she was surprised to see him. After the cold shoulder she received earlier she hadn’t imagined she would have the opportunity to talk to the blue-eyed beauty any time soon.
“What person was that?” She asked back, softly, not wanting to spook him off.
“Fede”
She tried to hide the shock on her face, what on earth had told her ex-lover she wanted him to talk to her current lover...if you could even call Ben that. Maybe it was more appropriate for him to be referred to as Amelia’s almost-until-she-fucked-it-lover. That was a bit long winded...maybe-lover should suffice. Whilst she was having this internal struggle, all thoughts swirling around her head, Ben had reached the centre circle and sat to the left of the girl, close enough that she could see the calmness behind his eyes.
“He’s right you know, he’s not always right but this time he definitely is. For example, he was wrong to let you go. There would be no chance in hell that I would let you slip away from me as easily as he did.
“I like you because you’re smart, so unbelievably beautiful and just as confident as anyone I've ever met. But I love you, despite the fact that you drive me mad with just how brilliant you are even if you don’t acknowledge yourself. You are destined for greatness, Amelia White. And I just hope that when you do get to where you want to be, that I'm still right there with you.”
Looking at him with tears in her eyes whilst his own were telling her that there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation behind his words. He loved her. And that's all she needed. Standing up, she pulled him up by his hands and pulled him in so close that she could feel the muscles in his back contract as he wrapped her up in a hug of his own, these were the hugs that she wished could be reserved for her. No one else needed to know the power behind these hugs, they could make her fall for him over and over again. One hand across her shoulders, the other palming the back of her head and pushing her into his chest so she could feel his heart beat - after all it beats just for her.
“Ben, why did you kiss your shirt today after you scored?” She asked the taller man as he continued to enjoy the feeling of having her back in his arms, where she belonged for all of this time.
“I wanted to feel close to you, and I thought maybe you were onto something with your superstitions”. Regrettably pulling himself away from her, he pulled off his shirt to reveal the toned skin of his chest, but also the small embroidery on the inside fabric that resembled her own...except this time it read MILS with a small Italian flag. Feeling her heart swell inside her chest, she beamed up at the man who was patiently waiting for her reaction to the gesture of love.
“I think it worked Ben” Pulling her shirt away from her chest enough that she could stretch it and show the inside fabric to him, hers reading WHITE with the Italian flag, but also a small BENJ with the British flag next to it. Her way of keeping him, and her family, close to her heart where she felt them the most.
He could only imagine that Amelia felt when reading his shirt was only a fraction of what he was feeling at that moment, for it was impossible for anyone to love someone the way that he loved her. His mum always told him not to fall for the girl who gives him butterflies, because he would be addicted to the feeling and would constantly be on the chase for it, but to fall for the girl who calmed him down, made him feel secure and like he needed her air to breathe. Butterflies were warning signs, but the sight of Amelia reminded him of seeing the light on in the hall after an away match - he was home. She was his home.
Pulling her back to his chest, except this time he was shirtless. Amelia ran her hands down his back whilst his hands settled at the base of her spine, she rested her chin on his chest and stared up at the man that her heart had grown to love. Ben moved his hands upwards until he tangled them in her wavy hair, moving his lips to cover her own. The kiss said everything they needed to share with each other. I miss you. I love you. Never leave me again.
“Oi! You two! Break it up! There are kids here!” A quick yell broke the two out of their bliss, looking over to see none other than Kyle Walker standing at the end of the tunnel, looking towards them with a mischievous look on his face.
“Kyle, cover your eyes, you’re too pure to be exposed to such adult behaviour!” And just as though God had been listening, from behind him walked out Federico, to cover the eyes of Kyle Walker. Amelia and Ben didn’t realise that the two were even remotely friendly, however they had found a mutual interest - annoying their two friends that had finally admitted their feelings to each other.
“Pipe down you two” Ben joked as the pair of them walked hand in hand towards the jokesters, Ben eventually lifting his left hand to move their entwined hands to Amelia’s left shoulder, her own right arm moving to wrap around his waist. A way he could bring her physically closer to him. Amelia not resisting the gesture, anything to feel his smooth skin against her own.
“Fede, I hope you know that I'm going to be Amelia’s maid of honor at the wedding. That's not going to be a problem for you is it?” Kyle began to seriously discuss the future event with his new Italian partner in crime.
“No Kyle, that's fine - I'm the flower boy though. Jorgi is going to pull me down the aisle in a red cart while I throw rose petals at everyone” Fede joked back, the two of them pretending that the new couple couldn’t hear them as they walked down the tunnel back to the changerooms.
“What are they like?” Ben laughed into the top of Amelia’s hair, still maintaining his grip on the girl he had been without for 3 weeks. With a grin from ear to ear, and an overwhelming feeling of love about her, Amelia stopped Ben in his tracks before the two had to go their separate ways to rejoin their respective teams.
“Just so you’re aware, I love you too. And I am so sorry for everything that I put us through these past weeks. I want you to know that i’m all in, and i’m all yours...if you’ll have me”
“Stop being a silly muppet, of course I'll have you, all of you. Even the parts that drive me insane. There is no way I am letting anyone else have you. You’re all mine, Mils”
“Glad to know the feelings mutual, Chilly”
“Oi, what did I say about that! Only friends call me Chilly...and you are not my friend”
Bursting into laughter as she tried to pull away from him, only to be pulled back and wrapped up into his arms, her head against his chest.
“I love you, Benj”
“I love you right back, Mils”
finito.
BONUS #BAMELIA MOMENT - Champions Again | di nuovo campioni
here is the second last part besties wahhh I'm so sad its coming to an end!! I'm also so sorry about this part, it'll break a few hearts :'(
Love always, Steph xx
Part 11 | parte undicesima
warnings; heartbreak, swearing & angst - i'm sorry in advance.
word count; 2185
writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.
final update; Wednesday 18/08 5pm AEST.
tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven
link to fic masterlist here
A few days had passed since the Villa match and Amelia had heard from Jack when he returned to Birmingham. He sent her a simple text to let her know he made it home. That’s it. The two went from previously not going more than 24 hours between FaceTimes or calls or memes to a simple made it home a few hours ago, thanks for a good time x.
No “speak soon”, no promise of a FaceTime , no double kiss at the end of the text that would have typically been there otherwise. If anything, she was more mad that he made her feel like a side piece; like one of his instagram girls that she knew he entertained throughout the week. Amelia knew that she, for lack of better terms, fucked up. She fucked up their friendship, and was praying to all of the Gods that would listen to help her not fuck things up with Ben, too. However, the fact that she didn’t go to church as often as she should have is probably the reason that Ben refused to make eye contact with the girl. It was either that or…he already knew.
“Benj, hey, wait up.” She called as he walked out to his car after a particularly long day at Cobham.
“Don’t call me Benj,” he coldly stated without turning around, continuing his stride.
“Okay fine, Chilly. Wait up will you!”
“Don’t call me Chilly either, that's reserved for friends.”
“Okay, if I can’t call you Benj, or Chilly, what can I call you?”
“The best mate of the guy you fucked multiple times on Saturday night” He spat out at her, as he finally turned around, ready to see the shocked look cast over Amelia’s face as she stood a couple feet away from him. He wasn’t expecting to see Mason at his car, just across the way or Jorgi at his, a few cars down. But they were there and it didn’t matter; they were going to find out sooner or later, anyway.
“He told you.”
“He told the group chat, Amelia. The fucking group chat! How does that make you feel? He’s already bragging about it. Your bed isn't even cold yet! It probably doesn’t bother you that much though - you’re just like him.”
“He fucked you when he knew exactly how I felt about you, having gone to him for advice as to how to apologise to you. I called him on Friday after I left your house and gushed to him like a bloody little girl because I was so happy you forgave me, and that we had kissed. And then, just like that, you let him weasel his way between your legs.”
“I know I should be taking this out on him, and I will don’t worry, but you knew what you were doing also. You knew exactly how I felt about you. I was ready to commit to you that night and you said you wanted to be friends, that you needed time to heal or whatever. So I hope you’re happy and are healing, because I take it all back.” With that, Ben turned around and got in his car, driving away from the girl who felt remorse worse than she ever has in her life.
Witnessing the whole exchange, Jorgi gave Mason a nod to say “go check on Ben, I’ll look after Amelia” and walked up to the girl from behind. Without scaring her, he firmly grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her to his chest where she let go of all of the emotions she had been keeping inside. With every stab of the knife that was Ben’s words, she felt herself becoming more vulnerable and exposed than ever before. She refused to let him see her cry. That wasn’t something she was willing to let anyone see; she didn’t realise all she had been holding together until she no longer had to, until she had the physical support of Jorgi holding her up in the middle of the training ground car park.
Ushering her to his car - she could collect her own another day - Jorgi put her inside before any other first team members - or worse, staff members - could see the distraught girl and drove them both back to her place where he spent the rest of the evening comforting the girl and letting her know she wasn’t alone. He had even made a desperate call to Fede, asking for advice on how to cheer the girl up. Of course, her Italian ex-lover had been worried the moment his national teammate had told him that the girl was inconsolable and was just about ready to board a flight to her, but Jorgi had calmed him down too. Fede’s advice of coffee, warm pyjamas and clean sheets had done the trick of putting the girl to sleep for the night.
The next few days had come and gone, and the two heartbroken almost-lovers were back to the beginning - Ben ignoring Amelia and Amelia trying to get Ben in a room. But it wasn’t to be. Towards the end of the week, Amelia had received a phone call from Mr Mancini, formally inviting her back to the Italian National Team staff for the upcoming friendly matches and preparation for the 2022 World Cup. Without any hesitation, she accepted her role and began to prepare the necessary procedures that would need to be implemented or maintained during her time away with the Italian side.
Sharing the news with her fellow Italians, Jorgi and Emerson, she decided that she wanted to be the one to tell Ben. She wanted him to know, whether he cared or not, that she wasn’t running away from him and that she would see him soon.
“Chilwell, please stay behind after the session.” She decided it was best if she requested it in the company of the rest of the first team and also the staff members. She was being selfish but she didn’t want him to run away from her again.
He remained sat in his seat as the rest of the team and professional staff left for the evening. Arms crossed, slouched down, looking at everything else in the room but the girl who was nervously wringing her hands together.
“I’m leaving for international duties tomorrow morning.” With that sentence, he stopped tapping his left leg and looking at the cornice details. Instead, his attention was focused on her.
“But we don’t break up for internationals for another week.”
“I know, but Mancini has requested I come earlier to settle back into things over there.”
“It’s only an hour flight away, how difficult could it be?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see me go.”
Silence. Ben didn’t have an answer for her. Of course he didn’t want to see her around Cobham on the day-to-day basis they currently had to endure, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to go back to Italy. Even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Especially if it meant she was around Fede again.
“Well, much to your dismay I'll be back here in 3 weeks. And, Italy are playing England in the last friendly match of the break.”
With a slight nod of his head, Amelia presumed that their conversation was done with. She turned to gather her paperwork and heard the chairs behind her move, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. She sighed into her hands. How did she let this happen? She preached to Ben how much she didn’t want to be selfish with his heart, and that's exactly what she did. But hey, it takes two to tango. Deciding there was no time like the present, she dialed the contact that once made her smirk but instead only made her furious to look at.
“Amelia, hey, how are you? Sorry it’s been a hectic couple of weeks.”
“Cut the crap Jack, you never intended to keep this friendship after you got what you were after.”
“Excuse me? You wanted it just as bad as I did.”
“You’re right about that, I thought I wanted it. Now, though, all I feel is regret. You know Jack, I knew from the moment we met that you were just my type, the kind that only calls me late at night. I knew a guy like you, and he treated me more or less the same. I gave myself to him, over and over for the better part of 3 years, and it was only when I left that he decided I might have been worth it... worth him.”
“But not you, you couldn’t help but run to your group chat and brag about your latest conquest, about how you made me feel wanted, only to rip it all out from under me the next morning and every day since. Honestly Jack, I think it's time you grew up a little. For Ben to confide in you how he was feeling and for you to just have blatant disregard for your so-called best mate. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I know I'm in the wrong here too, but you are his best mate for crying out loud! How could you do this to him?”
“I don’t even want to hear what you have to say, I just needed to get that off my chest. Lose my number Jack, find some other hopeless girl that you can lure in with your foolish words and sweet nothings because I’m done. I’m done with whatever this was to you.”
“You’re probably not going to believe me, but you have no idea how happy I am to see you here,” I heard from behind me, spinning around on my heels to see the ever-charming, boyish grin I used to love with my whole heart. This time, it's a different kind of love - it's an unconditional love shared between two people that are glad to exist together in the same crazy world.
“Federico, amore mio.” (Federico, my love) I stood up from my place on the bench at the Technical Headquarters and Training Ground of the Italian Football Federation, bringing the taller, heavily tattooed man into my arms. A gentle rock from him, side to side, to let me know that he can feel the weight of my moral compass.
“Vieni, cammina con me” (come, walk with me) He looped our arms together, and we strolled around the perimeter of the pitch that I was using to visualise my plays for the upcoming games. By the time we made it to the first set of goals, Fede had had enough of letting me mull over my own thoughts.
“Tesoro, Jorgi called one night a couple weeks ago. As smart as he is, it turns out he is hopeless at calming down an emotional female. While I'm not proud of knowing exactly how to calm you down, being that it was more often than not my fault you were inconsolable in the first place, I had to get some information out of him as to who upset my favourite girl in all of England.”
So I launched into the story, telling him everything from Mykonos to that fateful night a few weeks ago. Fede being Fede, he wanted to know everything, but I stopped just short of letting him know how many times Jack took me to paradise (much to his dismay). By the time I had wrapped up, we must have walked the pitch at least 3 times in its entirety, before retiring to the centre circle where we sat on opposite sides of the half way line staring at each other.
“I’m sorry that I ruined you for any other man,” Fede spoke solemnly.
“Fede, no - it was my stupid mistake to sleep with Jack.”
“No, let me finish amore. I’m sorry that I made you love me so deeply, and convinced you that the way I treated you was the right way, that the way I was with you was what you expect in every man to come after me. This Jack, he sounds just like me about 5 years ago - before I met you. But Ben, he sounds like the man I am trying to better myself to be, to be the man that deserves the kind of love you have to give.”
“I want you to listen to me. You need to fight for Ben. From what I have heard from both yourself and Jorgi-”
“That boy cannot keep his mouth shut to save himself,” I muttered under my breath.
“Amelia, you have a heart that deserves to be loved. Open yourself up to Ben. Tell him how you feel. From experience, you are very hard to ignore when you’re so vulnerable. Be honest with him, apologise, make him feel wanted, not like a second choice. Let him know how much you care for him, and equally how much you want him to care for you. He will see your sincerity and realise just how truly irresistible you are.”
STEPHSPURS. - THE MASTERLIST
ONLY ANGEL - FANFICTION MASTERLIST
warnings; this is 2300+ words of pure smut from start to finish, read it at your own risk besties.
PART 2.
“You know, I wore this dress with the intention of you taking it off.” Josephine whispered into the darkness of John’s hotel room. His lips pressed to the hollow of her collarbone, nipping and soothing to leave his mark. Her hands were threaded through his perfectly messy hair pushing him as close as physically possible to her sweet spot, whilst his hands were bunching up her skirt so desperate to feel the silky smooth skin of her never ending legs.
Still stood in the hallway to John’s suite, he pushed her back until she met the wall. With a flattened back and a new source of support, she pulled him closer and closer to her body - so close that neither could tell where her body ended and his began. Slowly yet surely she removed the suit jacket from his shoulders and down his arms, dropping it to the floor. His lips had not left her body once, migrating from her collarbone to their new found home behind her ear lobe. Her breathing getting heavier, hotter even, he could hear the audible effect he was having on her and he was thriving from it. Suit jacket on the floor, his shoes removed long ago, she was working on the buttons to his tight white button down. John was painfully aware of her slender fingers just grazing the skin of his chest as she made her way down the front of him, getting closer to where he wanted her most.
Feeling both of her palms flatten against his chest and spread themselves out was a feeling John never wanted to forget - the cool temperature of her hands in contrast with the heat of his chest, the steadiness he felt when she dug her nails into his pecks right above his heart that was beating in double time for her. She had forced his head off of her by a gentle but commanding pull of his hair, quick enough herself to attach her lips to the adam’s apple of his neck forcing a guttural growl to escape from the same lips he was using to praise God for the heaven-sent angel he had pinned between his body and the wall. Whilst she was busy paying his neck close attention, her hands had shifted themselves to push his shirt from his shoulders and onto the floor around them. His hands had successfully found the backs of her thighs and began to raise them, angling her hips so that their cores aligned perfectly. The feeling of her barely-there panties against his suit slacks and hardening member was enough to send him over the edge.
Flicking on the wall sconces above them allowed John to find the hidden zipper on the side of her torso, pulling it down and sliding his hand under the fabric and around the side of her chest to feel that she was not wearing a bra - although John could have told anybody that from the way her nipples hardened beneath the soft fabric of her dress whenever he leant in to speak to her and their chests brushed together. That was her first sign to him that what he was feeling for her was mutual, and deserved to be explored. Separating their lower halves for only a moment, her dress fell to the floor around her feet in a perfect mess and she took the opportunity to work on his belt. It was light work, she had both his belt and zipper undone in a matter of seconds and was forcing his trousers down his toned and tattooed thighs with her foot as she moved her mouth to his sternum. The skin on skin contact had turned the temperature in the room from the previously hot to now steamy. Paying special attention to the tattoo beneath his toned peck, John took advantage of the woman being otherwise occupied and lifted her with ease to carry her further into the room to his king size bed.
Placing her down with a feather-like gentleness in the centre of the bed, John was shocked to see her reach out and pull him down to her by his neck so he settled his body between her legs, core to core. As he had done to her just before, she took advantage of his otherwise preoccupied body and flipped them before straddling him and sitting back on her heels to marvel at the wonderboy below her. A devilish look on her face, John still thought she was the definition of an angel. To his surprise, she removed herself from him and stood at the end of the bed baring herself to him in nothing but her very small panties and a pair of black strappy Tom Ford heels - she had intentionally matched her underwear to her heels, with the hopes that she would be able to show John later in the evening. One foot up on the end of the bed, she leant herself forward so her breasts were pushed against the top of her thigh and her core was shifting within her underwear, John had half raised himself on the backs of his forearms to watch the show. Her fingers travelled down her shins to meet the buckle of her stilettos in a teasingly slow pace before moving on to her other leg, John drinking in every move her fingers made - eager and ready to feel them against his skin again.
Standing proud in front of the man who was glaring with anticipation at the small and very sheer black lace fabric covering her modesty, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and toyed with them before stretching them and letting the elastic snap back to her skin. The sharp sound being the only thing filling the room, other than John’s heavy breathing and the sound of her own heart pulsing in her ears, caused John’s eyes to snap back to hers. Holding his gaze, she jutted her tongue out and ran it painstakingly slowly along her bottom lip and then across the front of her perfectly shaped teeth before using them to bite down on her own lip. During this interaction, she had pulled her panties down and left them on the floor. One knee after the other, she crawled her way above the defender, who was completely defenceless and at her mercy, so she could latch her lips onto his own for the first time that evening.
A battle between two tongues, and hands moving at a feverish speed to finish undressing John whilst exploring every curve of Josephine’s body continued for the next few minutes. If there weren't any window coverings already shielding their escapades from the outside world then there would be a layer of fog over the floor to ceiling glass protecting their privacy - at least that's how hot they both thought the room was. She was still on top of him, he was still resting on his own forearms beneath him, this angle was a thing of beauty as it allowed the perfect position for their cores to rub and cause enough friction that both Josephine and John could feel themselves building together. As though he could read her mind, John asserted his dominance and flipped them over so she was flat against the mattress and he was hovering over her. One arm next to her head, the other making its way down the side of her body with enough speed that she couldn’t enjoy his hands in the same place for too long before they were dragging her attention elsewhere - although he did pay a certain amount of attention to her breast. Kneading it and flicking her nipple while he watched it visibly harden before him and for him.
His right arm was supporting the entirety of his upper body weight, his veins starting to protrude from the pressure. Josephine couldn’t help herself, she latched her mouth onto his wrist and began to suck at the skin beneath his Cartier bangle. John was surprised at how good her actions felt, having never experienced the sensation before. He was amazed at how her brain worked, how she knew exactly what points to please on his body that not even he was aware of. Feeling jealous of the fact she was tasting his skin, his warm tongue traced itself from the base of her neck, down the crevice of her chest, circled itself around the dainty navel piercing he hadn’t noticed earlier (and was now cursing himself for underappreciating it). Words had yet to be exchanged between the two, besides their praise and shouts to whatever God they chose to believe in. However her first gasp of his name came as his head dipped between her legs, his arms moving to wrap around her thighs from underneath, effectively placing the back of her legs on his shoulders as he held her in place. His tongue, licking up her folds before his lips settled around her bud and he began to suck.
Josephine could have sworn she died and went to heaven when he brought on her first orgasm of the evening with just the sheer power of his lips, his tongue, his hands gripping onto the skin of her tights. She was obsessed with how he made her his priority, she refused to believe that he gave this kind of attention to any other girl in the world. This feeling, this treatment, was reserved for her and only her. Removing her hands from the back of his head where she was pushing him closer to her heat and he brought her closer to her orgasm, the simple sight of him gazing up at her out of breath figure whilst his mouth was still attached to her sensitive skin was enough to bring her to another high. However, nothing turned her on more than being the reason for his undoing, and she was sure that there was nothing more sweet than the taste of him - maybe only the sound of her name falling from his lips in utter despair to let him release.
She coaxed him up to her with a sinister curl of her pointer finger, a tongue heavy kiss shared between the two as she yearned to taste herself on his tongue. She flipped them again and sat him back onto the pillows, wanting him upright to see the show. Straddling him so that he could feel his own saliva and her juices on his abdomen, she took a leaf out of his book and sucked her way down his chest leaving small marks on every curve of his toned abs, her long eyelashes brushing his skin as she travelled down with butterfly kisses. His hands gripped the sheets beside him in anticipation as she got closer and closer to where he needed her most. The gentle kiss she placed on each side of his pelvic bone was enough to drive him wild - his hands threading through her hair from the side of her face to get it out of her way, hands settling at the back of her head so he could feel himself hit the back of her throat. Her tongue circled the base of his length, making its way to the tip of his penis whilst her hands paid special attention to his balls. The gentle massaging coupled with the way she was now taking his whole length into his throat with no reaction other than the gentle roll of her eyes into the back of her head told John that a) she was enjoying this as much as he was and b) she had no gag reflex.
Feeling him begin to twitch in her throat, she began to slow her sucking and remove herself from him. The small bead of saliva and his pre cum on her lip had John lurching forward to capture it with his own tongue, just as eager as she was to taste herself. He gently turned them yet again, laid her down on the mattress and made sure her hair was splayed around her so that she was comfortable. His hands spread her legs and moved her right knee to be in line with his right hip, slowly filling her up with him. Physically combining their two bodies to act as one, to feel as one. His steady rhythm was driving her insane, desperate to feel him in her stomach she raised her left leg to meet his hip and locked her feet behind his back, pushing him further inside her than he thought he could get. Leaning down, he captured her left breast in his mouth, the swirling of his tongue and his hips in opposite directions was making her see stars. She was lightheaded, her body was reacting more to him than it had to anyone ever before. Knowing she wasn’t going to last long and eager for them both to cum together, she began to tighten and flex her pelvic floor at the exact moment his full length was buried in her, releasing at the perfect time for him to withdraw and repeating again until the time she didn't let him go.
The sudden lack of movement of his tongue on her breast had meant that he was close, and she moved her hands from his back to his neck - pulling him up so they were face to face. Her hands on his cheeks, his own supporting his weight on top of her, their eyes said everything that needed to be said, needed to be shared between the two. Deep groans and breathless moans into each other's mouths signal that both of them were at the edge and with their lips locked and tongues dancing they came together. They were like thunder and lightning, electric and terrifying together in the best way possible. There was an indentation in his soul of her, of their night together that was far from over. He had left his mark on her like a golden tattoo, shimmering in the hallway light and beautiful, but only for her.
