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laurasstufff1 · 2 years

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The girl with the camera

Credits to @avenirdelight for the gif 🫶🏻

Summary: Mason and YN met in a not so friendly way, but that was just the beginning.

Warnings: cocky Mason.

Word count: 1.2k

Enjoy!! And please let me know if you have any suggestions for the following parts!!! :):)

***

There was a park that wasn’t really a park, but people used it as if it was: there were random groups of boys playing football, people riding their bikes or eating a picnic on the floor, which was a dangerous activity considering there were also dogs running around, and we all know dogs love stealing food.

The environment was one of the highlights of the place, but also the sunsets: pink, red, orange, yellow, you swore you’ve seen all the colors in the sky when that time of the day came. The best views were up the hill, it had always been your favourite spot to capture that colours with your camera.

Today was no exception. There wasn’t much people around, though the sun wasn’t hidden behind the clouds, it was still cold.

Half an hour had passed, the Sun wasn’t setting just yet, but you kept yourself busy with the camera in your hands, an artifact too modern and with too many buttons and settings for your liking, you were still trying to learn how to use in this kind of landscapes, just nature and skies.

Mason, on the other hand, was spending a rare day with his family. And he was happy until he saw the flash of a camera directing his way, although he rapidly forgot about it. But then he saw you pointing at them with your camera, he double checked again five minutes later, and then after to see you in the same position, and he had enough.

Going up the not so high green hill, he couldn’t believe your audacity when he was already 50 meters away and you wouldn’t put the camera down.

“Hey” he said in a rather rude tone while standing right in front, you were still sitting on the grass.

“Hi. Excuse me” you said moving to the left so he wouldn’t block the views.

“Really??” He crossed his arms in front of him, moving again in front of you to block your camera lens with his body again “Now you guys are interested not only in me but also in my family?” He asked, and only then you realised why he was there.

“Oh! No, I think you’ve got the wrong id-“

“No, you’ve got the wrong idea!” He fumed, and now you had to get up, although he was still much taller than you “I get that people recognised me and I’m ‘public’” he stopped to make air quotes “but I also have the right to have privacy with my family, don’t you think?”

“Alright, calm down for a mo-”

“No I won’t! You guys are unbearable, stupidly unbearable!”

“Stop it!!” You were the one shouting now, and he was going to talk again but you were faster “Enough, Mason! I wasn’t taking pictures of you, I’m not a paparazzi” “That’s why you know my name, huh?” He mumbled.

“The whole country knows you’re name, whether you like it or not!!! Oh my God” you hummed not believing this was your first encounter with him, or how selfish, cocky and rude he was being.

“Yeah alright” he kept mumbling not having enough.

“You know what? Here” you took the camera off your neck and showed him the digital screen “you can see the pictures I took yourself”

“You don’t need to d-“

“I know I don’t” you cut him off “But I want you to see it, I don’t earn anything by lying”

And so he stayed there, checking the pictures one by one while you sat on the floor, only know realising the sun was already set and you missed it all thanks to him.

“I’m sorry” he finally talked after going through the pictures a few minutes later. “I thought you were— you know. You were pointing at us with the camera”

“I was pointing at the sky Mason, the sky” you said picking up your bag from the grass and your camera from his hand. “Goodbye”

“I’m sorry again” you heard him say while you walked away.

And that same night, while you were having dinner, you phone’s screen lighted up showing you the notification you were dying to get, but know you weren’t so sure. Too late to turn it down now.

There wasn't any formal introduction, you just had, apart from your camera, a pass around your neck, with your staff number, your whole name, DNI, EAN code, and QRs. Of course, the ugliest photo of your face couldn’t miss either.

All you did that day was stand by the field, testing different settings, lenses, distances and all that boring stuff, and also talking with some other photographers of the club.

How cool was your luck, you got the work in Chelsea FC after an ugly encounter with the star player.

While you did that, Mason stared at you. Your face was familiar to him, and after a few minutes he realised who you were, and without any other reason his cheeks started burning.

It felt only right to apologise to you once more after the session ended, and that’s what he did when he saw you checking the pictures in the camera the same way he did almost a week ago.

He didn’t even say ‘hello’, just cleared his throat. It was for you to realise he was there. “I did take pictures of you today” you started saying without a greeting neither “but that’s my job now” you added now showing him the pass around your neck, whee you could clearly read Staff, and under it with smaller letters but as clear as before, Photographer.

“I didn’t know you worked here, never saw you around” he finally talked while stroking the back of his head, feeling clearly uncomfortable.

“I got the email the same night we meet. It was lovely evening, wasn’t it?”

“Look I’m sorry. I’m really ashamed, I shouldn’t assumed that you were taking pictures of me and I should’ve talk to you differently”.

“It’s okay” you simply said, watching as his face light up after you pronounced the words.

“Really?”

“I don’t want things to be awkward now tha-”

“But I’m truly sorry” he talked again and you just nodded, mumbling a soft ‘okay’ “It’s just that I’m like, obsessed. I can’t go out anymore without someone recognizing me, and I love my fans, but sometimes I just want to walk alone, you know? And paparazzis are the same, even worst. Last year I ran into my cousin in a club and a magazine published a picture with my ‘girlfriend’” he made air quotes again, just like the same day you met “even my grandma called me, she thought the rumors were true and she got so worried” he had the intention of continuing talking, but he stopped when he heard your laugh “I’m glad you find it funny, because I didn’t” and that only made you laugh more.

“Sorry” you said drying the tears running down your face from the laughter “I’m sorry for laughing” you repeated “but it’s fine, really, I can understand. Just make sure to be nicer next time, because if I was actually taking pictures of you that day in the park, I wouldn’t have deleted them just to spite you” and now he was the one who chuckled “anyways, I have to leave. Guess I’ll see you around” you were already leaving when he talked again.

“I never got your name!” He shouted

“YN!”

#mason mount imagine #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount #chelsea fanfic #chelsea player imagine #chelsea imagines #chelsea imagine #chelsea fc #england football imagine #england nt imagine #england imagine #england nt

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i9messi · 11 months

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hiiii 🩵 could i request a mason imagine where he’s dating the daughter of messi??? and let’s say that leo has invited him over at their house for a vacation but little ciro is really close with reader so he gets a little jealous :’)) all fluff please tysm i love ur imagines 🥺

Summer trip — Mason Mount

Word count — 1,3k

mason’s masterlist

"Vamos, Ciro, sonreí un poco." (Come on, Ciro, smile a little.)

Your brother however continued with that angry face, no smile appeared on his lips. The thing was, you had a boyfriend, a lovely boyfriend. Mason and you had been dating for a while now, your family already knew him and they liked each other. This summer was the first time you decided to go on vacation together but your younger brother hated the idea. Ciro was overprotective over you, you were his older sister and he didn’t like your boyfriend’s presence there.

Ever since your boyfriend showed up with his travel bags, he was even more childish and angry. Ciro made mean comments in spanish and even reproached you for bringing Mason on a family trip.

Your boyfriend appeared with a glass full of cold water and you thanked him, giving him a short kiss on the lips. He was so cute you could kiss him every single damn minute, but your family was there too, so you had to be more private with your affection.

"I love you." He kissed you again and then he looked at the child, smiling at him.

"Que asco." (How disgusting) Ciro complained, knowing that Mason couldn't understand him.

"No seas malo." (Don’t be mean.)

"What’s wrong?" Mason tried to understand what you were saying but his level of Spanish was not good.

"¿Cuándo se va a ir?" (When is he leaving?) Your brother kept asking the same question.

"Ciro! Es mi novio y tenes que tolerarlo por el resto del viaje." (He’s my boyfriend and you have to tolerate him for the rest of the trip.)

"¿Quién lo dice?" (Who says it?)

"Yo." (Me)

Ciro got up from his chair and gave you one last look, until he went to play football with his brothers. You let out a sigh, your brother was making it hard to stay calm during your trip. You loved him, but you just wanted your boyfriend and your brother to get along for a few hours.

"What's wrong, lovely?"

You took the chance of the fact that your brother left you alone and you told him what was going on. Once you explained Ciro was jealous, Mason laughed.

"Oh, everything makes sense now."

"What?"

"This morning I poured myself a glass of water and it was very salty, your little brother was smiling weirdly at me. Also, I can’t find my shoes anywhere and I think my toothbrush has a weird taste— like, a taste of soap. I think perhaps someone is doing things to upset me."

"Oh lord."

"It’s fine, he’s your brother and it’s okay that he wants to protect you, he sees me as a treat."

"You're not a treat, Mase."

"Well, I'm stealing his favourite girl. I get it, if someone stole you from me, I would be mad."

You smiled, Mason knew how to make you feel things in your chest. In a second you were mad at your little brother and now you were smiling at what your boyfriend said.

"But I love you, he has to get used to your presence."

"I take the consequences of falling in love with you. I don’t care if the little Messi tries to kill me, I’m gonna stay by your side."

"Will you? Are you sure? My brother can be very stubborn when he wants to."

Mason laughed again at your drama. Little did you know that your brother never gave up.

"I can also be very stubborn when I want to, and I love you, so that little boy has to get used to my presence."

"Good luck trying to fight with my brother, he will win."

You were totally sure that your brother was able to piss off even the quietest person in the world, your brother might look cute and all, but he was a devil.

"Fight? Who says I'm gonna fight with him? That kid will love me."

You both got up from the chair to go back to the water, your dad was taking care of your brothers as your mom was taking pictures of them at the beach. Your dad was Lionel Messi, Mason admired him and he was like a little boy when he met him the very first time. It still seemed a little unreal that he had fallen in love with the daughter of his greatest idol.

You went into the water for a while with your surfboards, Mason didn’t know how to surf so you had to explain a little and help him. It was too much fun, so much so that you didn’t realize how long it had taken you. The sunset had arrived and when you came out of the water, your parents and brothers had already left the beach.

"Babe, have you seen my towel? I swear I left it here."

"Oh no."

"Your brother."

You both came to the same conclusion. Ciro must have taken Mason’s towel to piss him off. The british made a pot and you offered him your towel. He took it and put it on his shoulders, then extended his arms to you.

"Come here, we’ll dry together."

Mason left you a kiss on your lips and you looked into his eyes. It was a little cold now that you were wet and it was getting dark, but his hot arms made you feel better. As you were alone, you allowed ourselves to show your love. With the kids around, you and Mason tried to not show signs of affection around them.

"I love you, darling."

Mason was so sweet, he made your heart beat as if you were on a roller coaster. He was so attentive and affectionate that every day you fell more in love.

"I know this trip may seem a little weird and my brother is trying to make your life miserable, but I really enjoy being here with you, Mase."

"I enjoy being here with you, love. I don’t want to be anywhere else, you’re my home."

"And you're my everything."

You and Mason had a good time on the beach, kissing and holding hands. There were plenty of beautiful seashells in the sand. Once it was late enough, you returned home and put on dry clothes. You went to the living room and found Ciro looking at Mason with a malevolent smile. Your brother returned the gaze at your boyfriend and with his best attempt at spanish, he spoke with the boy.

"¿Quieres jugar un juego?" (Do you want to play a game?)

Ciro looked at you first and then looked at him. A naughty smile intensified in his mouth.

"Voy a ganar." (I’m gonna win)

"Let's see."

Mason sat next to your brother and the two started playing FIFA. You saw them, not before telling them both to behave, as if they were kids. Your dad was sitting in an armchair a few feet away, so you came over and stood beside him.

"¿Crees que algún día se van a llevar bien?" (Do you think they’ll ever get along?)

"Miralos, parecen empezar a llevarse bien." (Look at them, they seem to be getting along.)

You followed his gaze, your brother was laughing at something Mason said. When Mason looked at you again, he winked at you. His lips whispered a ‘trust me.’

Later on, the game was won by your brother and Mason made a pot, sitting next to you.

"He is good."

"He is."

"Little by little I'll make your brother love me, it's impossible to not love me."

"You’re a bit smug."

"Don’t ya love me?"

Truth was, you really love him. And he knew it.

"I do."

"Now I need to make another Messi to love me. It was incredibly hard to catch your attention, I hope he's easier."

Mason was already thinking of all the ways he could make your brother feel comfortable with him. He made a mental list of what they had in common with the little boy, in order to try to find a connection between the two.

"Dummy."

"I love you, princess."

He kissed you and again, Ciro appeared to make a disgusting gesture.

"Que asco." (How disgusting.)

"Ciro!"

Mason little did he know that your brother was going to play another prank on him that night. After all, the Messis never gave up.

#mason mount x reader #mason mount drabble #mason mount fluff #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mount #chelsea #chelsea fc #football imagines #football player fanfic #football players #mason mount x you #mason mount x y/n

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drakesfeelings · 3 months

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could you please do a clingy cole Palmer imagine. there’s never any about him and he’s honestly so sweet😭🩷

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ COMPANY

summary. it’s your day off, and cole’s clinginess comes to interrupt it.

requested - taking requests here

trigger warning. nothing but fluff !!!!

side note. first time writing for cole palmer, hope you’ll like it babe—still working on the other requests dw lmao

NINE O’CLOCK JUST RANG, but you don’t seem to care—deep asleep.

only the sound of air conditioning and your regular breathing are heard in the room, and the fact that you’re not running around the house in a hurry means that today is your day off.

usually, cole—knowing your schedule—always takes care of joining you the day before your day off, taking advantage of the concordance that the latter has with his.

but that was before his coach decided, not too long ago, to remplace their day off with training.

so, sadly, the chelsea player isn’t by your side.

still deep asleep, you shift randomly—stealing cole’s part of your bed and pressing your face in his pillow, humming his sent like the lover girl that you are.

and as your dreams start to get interesting, the horrible ringing from your phone suddenly stops them.

« ugh ! you groaned, feeling robbed by who-knows-what that decided to interrupt your beauty sleep. »

your eyes blinded by the bright light of your phone screen, you have to blink more than once to finally be able to see who the fuck is calling you—which is, surprisingly, your lovely boyfriend.

« good morning babe, cole speaks up once you accept to join the facetime. you’re at home ? »

« where do you want me to be cole ? you respond, searching for a new comfortable position in your bed, your phone firmly trapped between your fingers. why ain’t you at training ? you mumble once you realise that your boyfriend isn’t actually suffering through practice. »

« coach cancelled ! he smiles brightly, extending his arm whose holding the phone and dancing like the dumb—sleep depriver—boy he is. so, grumpy, don’t panic if you hear your front door open, you don’t question him more and, after letting him kiss the phone as a way of saying goodbye, you hear him hang up. »

slowly diving back to your sleep, cole seems to arrive just in time before you finally succumb.

locking the front door; getting rid of his shoes and training bag, he finally makes his way to your room—more than ready to cling onto your warmth and dive into a deep sleep.

entering it, he can’t help but smile at the picture that’s in front of him; you, in his sweats and shirt, comfortably hogging his side of the bed, eyelids firmly closed.

he mutters no words, changing himself into a more adequate outfit for sleep—basket shorts—and quietly making his way to the bed.

« it’s me, he whispers while wrapping his arms around your sleepy form. »

humming, you finally gather the energy to turn in his direction; eyes still closed. smiling, the boy automatically grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him, and puts his head on your chest—his nose pressed against your collarbones.

« mmh, cole i’m hot, you mumble, still not making more efforts to get him off of you. »

« i know you are, gorgeous. that’s why i’m with you since- »

« stop playing with me cole, he laughs, nuzzling his face more in your boobs. why you’re so clingy ? suddenly you love me, what the fuck. »

« shut up, you know i love your grumpy ass. just feel like clinging onto my love, i can’t ? despise the extra warmth the boy is adding to your body, your heart melts. »

god, how are you supposed to keep up with the grumpy act when he’s all cute like that ? damn, men really liked ruining women’s plans.

not having any other choice than accept your fate, you let yourself sink into him—his body firmly pressed against yours soothing you to sleep; just like his steady breathing that hits your chest.

with cole who is clinging onto you for his dear life, you finally fall asleep—again.

but not alone this time; with the man that seems to be coming straight out of your dreams: your favorite clingy and blonde chelsea player.

@ drakesfeelings 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏽

#cole palmer #cole palmer x reader #cole palmer imagine #chelsea #chelsea fc #chelsea players x reader #footballer x reader #hot footballers #cole palmer fluff #football fluff #football imagine

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jackleopard · 2 months

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the chelsea jersey is something that can be so personal to me

#him being a chelsea supporter........ loml truly #also thinking about what I could've had if taylor had fallen for a football player instead of an american football one aklsksakl #but now imagining if it was a man utd one or a real madrid one or something... oh the horrors #damon albarn #blur #chelsea fc

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formulalfc · 4 months

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hey babe! Wanted to ask if you write stuff for levi colwill? I would love some rambles about him. Don‘t have to write anything if you don‘t want to. Thx anyway💕 Hope you have a good day🌼

YESSS I'VE BEEN BEGGING FOR LEVI REQUESTS FOR WEEKS, got slightly carried away with this xoxo

to me, he seems like the kind of guy to be an absolute tease, like he knows that he's hot and he uses it to his full advantage. you guys are out to dinner with his family and he is being the absolute worst. you guys are sat on one side of the table while his parents are on the other. he has his hand dangerously close to your heat, finger stroking your upper thigh in what would feel like a soothing gesture if you weren't sitting opposite his parents. every few minutes he whispers something in your ear, playing it off with a cough. "can't wait to get home baby", " i can feel how hot you are", "be my good girl and wait until we've finished eating." you're trying to distract yourself by finishing your food, but it's proving difficult as levi's parents seem interested in asking you questions about your recent work project. you manage to get through their questions with some help from your boyfriend, who was trying to hide his smirk behind his drink. by the time you guys have got in the car to go home you're practically dripping through your panties, telling levi to put his foot on the pedal or he isn't getting head for a month. you get a reply of yes ma'm as you bunch your skirt up pushing your underwear to the side so you can touch yourself. his jaw slacks as he watches you, he was regretting teasing you right about now.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

#blurbs with shan ;)#levi colwill #levi colwill x reader #levi colwill fluff #levi colwill imagine #levi colwill blurb #levi colwill x you #chelsea fc #chelsea #chelsea fc x reader #england nt #england #football player #footballer x you #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader

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captainwans · 1 year

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LOVE IS (NOT) EASY.

— B. CHILWELL

pairing: ben chilwell x fem! reader

summary: reliving the harsh words that were shared between the pair, she came to a conclusion that love is definitely not easy.

warning: angst, mentions of curse words, brief injury description, and fluff at the end. happy reading, dolls! <3

word count: 1,4k | ( gif not mine! )

masterlist!

… [Y/N] STARED AT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR, her heavy eyes darting across the room with a vacant expression. Her mind relived back to the fight she had with Ben a few hours ago, lingering inside her mind making her want to slam her head against the wall. To say she was having a hard time was an understatement. Her workplace was a literal shitshow, with her boss always nagging and criticizing her every move. One of her closest friends got into an accident, and her important appointments got canceled last minute. At first, she thought speaking to Ben about her troubles would make her feel better, but knowing his critical state, she wasn’t so sure anymore. She thought her situation would get a little better by his presence but instead got a punch in her gut. His words pierced through her chest—like a knife was being held over a fire.

“You’re having a hard time? Fucking look at me, I can’t even walk properly.” Ben chastised, his piercing stare making her feel smaller.

She knew how much his knee injury took a toll on him. She’s been by his side ever since he hit rock bottom. From helping him take on his clothes to carrying him on her back— quite literally, was tough on her too, but she loved him to pieces and knew that he couldn’t handle it all on his own. They had their small moments, but this time his words remained glued to her brain, squeezing her skull and making her want to get on her knees and pour her heart out.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pull your shit onto me, alright? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you blaming everything on me. I gladly let you get vulnerable in front of me, but why can’t I get the same treatment back? You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you supposed to do the same thing?” [Y/N] snapped, her tone dripped with spite.

A lump formed inside her throat and she looked up, her eyes glistening from the light above her. She clenched her jaw, aggressively blinking to prevent any tears to fall. A dark cloud entered her chest, squeezing her lungs making her let out a shaky breath. Her lips grew thin and she loudly sniffled, rubbing her face with her trembling hand.

Her lips emitted another sigh before opening her mouth, “You can enter the kitchen, you know. It’s your house after all,” she spat, her voice hoarse and dry. She leaned her back against the counter, her arms crossed as she watched him enter the kitchen.

A look of shame was etched onto his features, his eyebrows furrowed along with a clutched jaw, and [Y/N] wondered if his jaw would break by how tight it was clenched. She watched him nearing her, his hesitant steps making her heart churn with every breath she took. His bright blue eyes were replaced with shallow and sunken eyes. She watched him open his mouth, but she shook her head.

“Don’t. I don’t wanna hear it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but he heard her. She looked into his eyes, her stoic expression slowly turning softer. The corner of her lips pulled down, shaking as she tried to stop the overwhelming emotion from taking over her. She brought a hand over her mouth, her eyes staring through empty space as her mind went into melancholia.

Ben’s chest tightened, feeling his throat close making him almost choke on air. The guilt was slowly, painfully eating him from the inside and he wanted nothing more than to take his words back, but he couldn’t and that left him with a heavy heart. His brows pulled up, knitting in the middle as he contemplated his next move. He knew she wanted distance, but he couldn’t help but inch closer to wipe away a lone tear from her cheek.

[Y/N] looked at him, feeling his hand gently drifting to hold the side of her neck as his thumb brushed her jaw. She allowed her body to sink into his warmth, her eyes closing in the process as she reminisced about his touch—oh how much she missed his touches.

Ben’s lip curved up slightly, slowly inching closer. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and gently titled her head with his hand. He watched her opening her eyes, her glossy eyes avoiding his. He opened his mouth but closed it, his words stuck in his throat. He sighed, his fingers softly drawing circles on her skin.

As much as she tried to keep it in, she couldn’t and her body betrayed her. She fell into his arms, her arms tightly holding his waist as she let her guard down. She gasped between her cries, making her have a hard time catching a breath. She felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to his body as he slowly rocked them back and forth.

Ben sniffled, hiding his face in her hair, and squeezed her tighter, afraid if she could disappear at any second. He let her pour her heart out, her cries making his heart clench. “It’s okay, darling. I got you.” he whispered into her ear, profusely muttering his apologies.

She let out a whimper, slowly pulling away. She met his pained expression, his glistening eyes mirroring hers. “I’m sorry, Ben. I-I’m so so sorry.” she stuttered, her voice cracking making him shake his head.

Ben cupped her face with his hands, his eyes slightly wide at her words. “No, no, baby. I’m the one who’s supposed to apologize. You’re right, [Y/N], I’m your boyfriend. I have one job, and I can’t even do that. Therapy has been hard, along with training, but that doesn’t explain the argument we had. I’m the one to blame, not you. I acted like a complete fool and didn’t take your feelings into consideration. I know you’re in a rough patch right now and you don’t deserve that—any of it. I’m sorry for not being there for you enough like you’re there for me.” He expressed, his voice wavering.

Hot tears trickled down his face and he quickly wiped them with his wrist. He looked down, a deep scowl forming on his handsome features. Ben sniffled, “It makes me feel like a bad boyfriend. I feel so guilty and horrible at the fact that you put aside your needs aside to make me feel better. It’s not fair, [Y/N]. It’s not fucking fair.” he blubbered, his chin trembling like a child.

[Y/N]’s eyes softened, feeling her heart bleed. She reached out, brushing his hair away from his face before cupping his cheek. She leaned his forehead against his, her other hand grasping his trembling hand. She pressed light kisses on his knuckles before turning her gaze to him, already meeting his blue eyes lovingly looking at her like a lost puppy.

She gave him a tired smile, her other hand caressing his stubbed jaw. “You’re not a bad boyfriend, Ben. You’re doing everything you can to make me happy while you’re managing your injury, and that’s enough. I can’t imagine how hard it must feel to not play on the field. It’s your passion—your dream, and it sucks that you can’t be able to engage in the one thing that matters to you the most. I get that, baby. I don’t expect you to return my treatments because I know, very well, that it’s hard for you to do. But maybe a little extra attention would’ve been nice—just you listening would be enough for me.” she admitted, giving him another soft smile, her teary eyes glimmering in the moonlight from the window.

Ben clenched his jaw, biting his lip to prevent himself from breaking down. He nodded, his eyebrows knitted together, and inched closer to feel her warmth. “And I will. I will listen to you, sweetheart. God, I love you so much, [Y/N]. I don’t wanna lose you, ” he breathed, closing his eyes with a grimace, feeling his face bruised from all the crying.

She grabbed his chin, gently tilting it up as she leaned in. Ben’s eyes closed, his lips brushing against hers as he moved closer. “Oh, honey, you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” [Y/N] breathed with a small giggle before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips, which he responded with a sigh as he rested a hand on the curve of her hips, his other hand holding her cheek.

Ben slowly pulled away, his forehead leaning against hers. His lips curved upwards, a fond smile resting on his handsome features. He planted a chaste kiss on her lips before voicing his thoughts. “Sounds good to me, gorgeous.”

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell masterlist #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell one shot #ben chilwell imagine #england nt #england football #england football masterlist #england fc #ben chilwell blurb #chelsea fc #chelsea football team #chelsea masterlist #captainwans navigation #french football player #football imagines #football masterlist

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doinggreat · 1 year

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#i had to sob so you'll have to sob #mase is that type of player who i cant even imagine seeing at any different club #mason mount #chelsea fc #gif #*#draft

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ms-snape · 1 year

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SECRET OUT

Summary: Hakim and Y/n are married, it was to remain secret but everyone ends up finding out.

Good reading.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Y/N's pov

I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing or rather exploded notifications, I free myself from Hakim's embrace despite his protests, I was surprised to see that the earliest notifications were insta requests because I was in private among these notifications there was a missed call from Hakim's brother, I called him worried because I knew that unless it was an emergency.

《Hi》 I say in a voice still affected by sleep.

"We have a problem," he said in a rather panicked voice.

"What is it?" asked Hakim who got up at the sound of his brother's voice.

《I accidentally posted a photo of your wedding on my insta》

"But you're on private" I tell him

《Yeah but a fan of Hakim followed me and I accepted his request which caused him to see the photo and screened it before I could delete it》I look at Hakim but he looked less panicked than me.

"It's okay, Hicham, we'll take care of it," he said before hanging up on me.

"It doesn't seem to worry you" I tell him

《Well no, it had to happen one day, and it's also a bit my fault 》he replied.

"What did you do?"

《I maybe changed my bio on insta and added a ring》I look at him in disbelief that he has decided to do this without telling me.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important, it was just a little emogi, plus I want everyone to know what a beautiful woman I was lucky enough to marry" his eyes sparkled as he told me that.

《Okay》 I just say.

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

《Yeah you can post pics from our wedding if you want just make sure you hide my face, so any girls drooling when they see you will know you're already taken》I lay back on the bed and pull the covers over my face.

When the day started for real and Hakim was in training I was on his insta looking at the pictures of our wedding he had been wearing my face was covered by a red heart emoji I was rather happy that our relationship was no longer secret because I knew it would be boring to have to hide from everyone. The sound of the front door opening was heard.

《Hi Hbiba (Honey)》Hakim kissed my cheek.

《Hi hbibi , how was training? 》

《Good, but there were a lot of paparazzi asking me about you》

"It will pass to them" saying that I didn't know who I was trying to reassure between him and me, I think he noticed it because he cupped my face before kissing my forehead, he knew that always relaxes me.

《It'll be fine, don't worry about it》he whispers against my forehead.

《I believe you, I'm just afraid it will ruin your career》

《I don't give a damn about football just as long as you're with me, I love you》

《I love you too, even after losing football against a kid》

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

That's it that's all.

Thank you for your reading and see you soon for a new imagine.

Send me your ideas.

Kisses 🤗

#football player #imagine #football love #football #football one shot #chelsea fc #married life #hakim ziyech × you #hakim ziyech × reader #hakim ziyech #hakimi x reader #hakim ziyech imagines #hakim ziyech imagine

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reiss-star · 9 months

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not letting my grandma out until i see declan rice and jurrien timber wearing an arsenal shirt

#where are they ? are they even real? did we all forget to take our pills and imagined the whole thing?#we knew about jorginho being an arsenal player before chelsea so what is this

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maseshine · 2 years

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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: where manson speaks truths to you, not knowing the consequences that would bring

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬: enemies, birthday party

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, alcohol consumption, angst

𝐚/𝐧: i'm open to requests! i write using a dash and my first language is not English!

𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲, parte ² || mason mount

Mason stared at himself in the large mirror of his closet, his eyes analysing the clothes his stylist had chosen for the occasion. It was true that his favourite clothes were sweatshirts, but he always wanted to look good when he went out for something more casual, and that’s where Carlotta came in.

Approving what he had seen, Mason walked deeper into his closet, he was behind his favourite watch when he unintentionally hit one of the white boxes stacked to the ground, photos spread across the floor.

━ Shit! ━ Cursing loudly, Mason knelt down and began to clean up the mess he had made.

His breath was caught when he saw one of the photos, for years there is no way, to tell the truth he did not even remember having kept the photo, sitting on the floor Mason started to observe the image.

A fifteen-year-old Mason smiled wide, in his arms an equally smiling thirteen-year-old Y/N was looking at the camera. The mark of his teenage years stamped on his features, Mason remembered very well the day the photo was taken.

He had scored a goal and both he and Y/N were very happy about it, he had even dedicated the goal to her. They finished the day at his house watching his film marathon. Mason sighed.

Most of the photos had her, in some of them just the two, in other Declan and some base boys who were also their friends. Memory after memory wandered through Mason’s mind, memories he’d been avoiding for some time, which he kept locked away. His mind also made a point of reminding him how he treated her today.

The most recent had her weeping at her birthday party after hearing all her bad words. It was the first time he saw her cry over something he had said, and he didn’t think it could really hurt to see her do it, especially knowing it was because of him.

And it was in those times that Mason hated what they had become. From best friends to almost enemies who mostly just hurt themselves, him more than anything. She never started anything, but she defended herself every time he attacked, but even he admitted that he was always the cruellest of the two. And it was in those moments too much that he actually almost hated himself.

Taking a deep breath again, he put all the pictures in the box again, swearing in his head that if he saw her today at the party he wouldn’t talk to her and wouldn’t even have a bad attitude, maybe if they just ignored each other they wouldn’t risk getting hurt permanently.

Deep in his heart, Mason just wanted to go back to a time when both of them were almost inseparable friends.

Mason’s ears reached out as he entered the main room and listened to the loud sound he played, bodies moved on the improvised dance floor, some couples kissed in the darkest corners that the bright lights on the ceiling could not reach. Electronic music made everyone jump together, Mason’s eyes travelling around the room looking for some familiar face.

He saw some girls waving at him, but didn’t pay attention, today he wasn’t in the mood to flirt with anyone, spending time with his companions would be enough.

Seeing Ben and Kai, his feet began to circle the people along the way, which took a few minutes, he had no idea who had invited so many people, but the place was full, and he could not identify half the faces that greeted him.

━ Hey, you idiots. ━ It was your compliment to two friends. ━ Who are most of these people?

━ I have no idea, someone had the brilliant idea to spread about the party and the lot of people showed up, and the result is what you’re seeing. ━ Kai explained to the number 19.

━ Where are the rest of the boys? And the girls? ━ Mason asked while accepting Ben’s drink.

━ Christian, Reece, Trevoh and Hudson must be in the kitchen or flirting around. Timo went to the bathroom. Sophia and Paula must be upstairs. ━ Kai responded by sipping his drink.

━ And Y/N? ━ Mason found himself asking before he could think straight, the looks on his friends' faces made him confused.

━ Dude, did you forget? ━ Ben asked his friend, he and everyone knew of the fights between Mason and Y/N, but he did not remember, this was too much of a careless even for him.

━ Forgot what? ━ The confusion must have shone on Mason’s face as his friends stared at each other in surprise.

━ Y/N left two weeks ago, Mase. ━ Mason felt his breath catch on hearing Kai’s words, his brain processing the information as his friends watched him.

━ What? ━ Those were the only words he could muster.

━ She went to Spain. She transferred to college, she received an internship proposal in Vogue Spain as well as an evaluation period for modelling in one of the major agencies there. She will spend the next six months there and depending on how everything happens she can live there for a while. ━ Ben said it all in one breath. Mason’s head turned further, disconnected words echoing in his mind.

━ When did she tell everyone? ━ The brown eyes found the pain of her friends.

━ At her birthday party. While celebrating the anniversary was also a way to say goodbye to all of us, we know you left before the announcement, but we thought she had told you. His whole family seemed to know. ━ Ben spoke softly, Mason could see the look of pity in his eyes.

━ No, I didn’t know. ━ Mason answered by denying it with his head.

━ Didn’t you see the photos she posted? ━ Kai asked by pulling up her phone and going on Instagram.

━ No. I believe she must have blocked me on all social media. ━ Mason spoke of a sigh, his heart beating fast with all the new information thrown at him in the last few minutes.

━ See. ━ Taking your friend’s cell phone. The smiling face of Y/N occupied the screen, Mason looked at the photo for a few moments before passing to the others, with each photo he saw his heart speeding up more.

The words of his friends became true when his eyes saw every tourist centre of Barcelona. The last words of Y/N coming to your mind.

Maybe you can do this faster than you think.

Delivering Kai’s cell phone in a hurry, Mason took no time to get away from his friends, ignoring his calls, the glass of drink in his hand falling to the ground, the disillusionment of his body when he realized he had actually crossed the line. The hurt permanent laughing at him now.

#football #chelsea fc #london #football imagine #premier league #footballer #masterlist #imagine #soccer player #love #mason mount imagine #mason x reader #mason mount

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killa-trav · 5 months

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mo salah has got to be up there for players who got robbed off ballon d'ors

#imagine if chelsea didn't sell him tho #wonder if he would've been the same player

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live-laugh-loverpool · 1 year

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Goalkeepers’ Union Group Chat 4

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @rubybecker-rb2

SweeperKeeper: We are back for another episode of this show, ya filthy menaces

Eder: Where’s Ali? I can’t find him online or on the Brazil national team callup

KingofBarca#1: Hey y’all did you hear the news about Bobby?

GoalKepa: Oh RIGHT no wonder Ali’s not here

SweeperKeeper: OK, I’ll mark him absent 🖋️

Eder: Seriously are we in grade school?!

WeWonIt14Times: Right Manu, come ON

Eder: Keylor, you’re seriously going to keep that chat name after getting whipped 4-0 by the Hammers?

(WEWONIT14TIMES has changed his name to Keylor🫅)

Keylor🫅: So what do you think?

SweeperKeeper: ENOUGH let’s start talking football

KingofBarca#1: Right, like the fact BVB could overtake you in the table this evening

SweeperKeeper: This wouldn’t have happened if they brought a GOOD goalkeeper in

GoalKepana: Like me?

Irishman: Nope

Eder: hey Caoimh 😁 where’d your usual chatname go?

Irishman: I needed something shorter and easier to remember me by

SweeperKeeper: You and the 35.429 million Irishmen in the world

Keylor🫅: OUCH

Eder: Anyway have you seen Ali

Irishman: He’s locked in a broom closet and I decided to leave him alone. Nobody can get him out.

Eder: Damn 🙁

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i9messi · 1 year

Note

hii! i haven't seen alot of people write for João Felix so i wanted to request a João Felix x Reader where reader does a prank on Felix by calling him another guy's name and maybe in the end they cuddle and Felix is lying is head on Reader's chest! It's currently 12AM for me and i was craving some Joao Felix 😭! Take care of yourself, love you!<3

Wrong name — João Félix

Word count — 742

joão's masterlist

"What did you say?"

You looked at your boyfriend, noticing that the expression on his face changed completely. He had been smiling moments before, but now he seemed confused and intrigued by the name that had come from your lips.

The thing is, you had asked him to hand you the TV remote, but you had used another name to call him. That had left him static in his place, with a frown on his beautiful face.

"Sorry, João."

"You said Nico. Who is Nico?"

"No one, I just- I got confused."

You were playing a prank on him to find out what his reaction was, you just wanted to know how he was going to react to hearing you call him by another name, and you were watching him right now. He didn’t like it at all.

"How can you get my name wrong? I’m your boyfriend."

"Sorry babe." You tried to act innocent and of course, João didn’t even believe you.

"Who’s Nico?"

"João, I just got confused for a second."

"Fine."

João got up from the coach, in a complete silence that made you realize that you had ruined everything. You didn’t think he’d take it so badly, maybe you expected him to ask a few questions, but not that he seemed offended. You also got up from the coach where you were sitting and tried to hold his hand. Your boyfriend kept walking.

"Babe, don’t get mad, it was just a mistake."

"I’m not mad."

João was so serious, it was obvious that he was angry about your supposed mistake. Hell, you didn’t expect him to be angry. Your boyfriend kept walking and you looked at his back.

"Then, why are you leaving?"

"You better go talk to Nico, whoever that guy is."

João went to the room you shared, closing the door behind him. You thought his anger would go away quickly and he would surely realize that his jealousy was silly, but he didn't return. João didn’t used to be a jealous boyfriend, he usually knew that you were in love with him and you were his. That’s why you decided to play that prank too, thinking he wouldn’t be mad at you.

As you already felt bad about what had happened, you went in search of him. João was lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling. His eyes joined for a moment, until he turned his attention back to the ceiling.

"C'mon babe, we should talk." You walked by his side.

"Won’t you get confused with my name this time?"

"João... it was a prank. I wanted to see how you would react if I called you by another name. I didn’t think you would get angry."

João looked at you silently, beginning to understand that there was no one else in your life. João was your boyfriend and you loved him with all your heart, just like he loved you. Before you met him you didn’t used to believe in soulmates, until him. Now you were sure he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He was significant to you.

"But-why? It wasn’t even funnier."

"I know, I’m really sorry now. Please, babe..."

You sat up beside him in bed, joining your hands in a grip. Your voice was a much lower volume from where you laid. João stroked your hand, pleased to solve that misunderstanding.

"Could you forgive me? There is no Nico, it was just a prank. I love you and I could never mistake your name."

"It’s fine, pretty."

One way or another, João ended up lying on your chest, his ear stuck to your heart. You caressed her hair, which was completely disheveled. His arms gently came around you, securing your place. You could stay like this all day, unwilling to do anything but show your love.

His kisses trailed down your chin, leaving love bites on your neck. You felt his hot, sloppy wet kisses all over your body, especially in your lips. You had to gasp for air, but João still leaned in, eyes closed, lips parted, absolutely wanting more.

"I love you. I know I say it a lot, but I truly mean it." your boyfriend said to you, while your gazes met. "Did you love me?"

"I love you so much, and I never want to hurt you, João."

You had the best boyfriend ever.

#joao felix imagines #joao felix blurb #joao felix fluff #joao felix x reader #joao felix #joão félix #joão felix #football imagines #football player fanfic #football players #chelsea fc #chelsea #portugal

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alexbkrieger13 · 2 months

Note

🙈

https://twitter.com/FanzineWSL/status/1755608954997252495

#Imagine the chaos if Chelsea and city are drawn together again in the FA Cup and that starts up #There'd be like five players on the pitch

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helen-with-an-a · 10 days

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Short but Mighty

Hi. So this is a request I got and I absolutely loved writing it. It's a little on the long side but I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, just imagine no one is injured in either team and it’s Arsenal not Chelsea against Barca in the UWCL this year. Another side note is that I am 5’6/5’7 so I don’t really have much of a frame of reference for being short/shorter but I hope I’ve done it justice 🩷

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Description: R is short and a little angry

Word Count: 4.8k

“She’s so angry because her attitude has been compressed into that small body”

“Have you ever noticed that in every friend group, the shortest one is usually the craziest?”

“Short girls are mean because they are closer to hell”

“If you think she’s short, you should see her patience”

“The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit”

“Like a chihuahua”

“And though she be but little, she is fierce”

You had heard it all. Even Shakespeare had commented on it. Every comment about short and angry people ever made – you had heard it all. But the thing was, you weren’t short. You were 5 foot 3 inches. 160cm. The average height for women in the UK – you would know; you googled it to make sure. But for some reason, every person on your team was a bloody giant – towering over you, making you look even shorter. Except for Aitana – she was the only one who truly understood your pain.

At first, it bothered you. Growing up, you were constantly being leant on by your friends or patted on the head; your coaches affectionately called you ‘short stuff’. It really, really pissed you off. You saw players on the field consider you a joke of an opponent as you stepped onto the field. So, you started to build muscle, lifting heavier, adjusting your diet, and altering your lifestyle as much as possible while remaining healthy. When you made your senior debut at just 17, you could lift well over 1.5 of your body weight. You also channelled that muscle into your speed, earning a reputation for being the fastest on the pitch. On paper, a defending midfielder of your height was laughable, but when the challengers on the pitch saw your name in the Starting XI, they would quake with fear.

Despite all the comments, they were right about your supposed anger. You don’t know whether it was you being unafraid to utilise your body on the pitch or something else entirely, but you were frequently topping the table with the number of yellow cards at the end of the season. Personally, you believed the refs had a vendetta against you; your reputation preceded you, so they felt it was necessary to uphold it – often giving you cards for something that would have been just a caution for anything else. You did pride yourself on never receiving a straight red (only double-yellows) – something that Lucy frequently reminded you; it wasn’t that impressive as many people didn’t receive straight reds. You weren’t an aggressive player by any means. As soon as that whistle went, you were the first to offer a helping hand. You had never injured anyone – ever. That was something else you were proud of. Whilst you often got yellows for the tackle, you never left any lasting marks. Were you physical? Yes. Were you aggressive? No.

It was the only thing people had spoken about in weeks. Arsenal vs. Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final. Walsh vs. Williamson; Russo, Lacasse and Blackstenius vs. Leon, Bronze and Batlle; Little vs. Putellas; Codina vs her old club; Paralluelo, Pina and Caldentey vs Wubben-Moy, Catley and Fox; Y/S/N vs. McCabe. That was the big one – two of the most carded players in their leagues battling it out for a chance to snatch the other’s chance of a Champions League title. Alexia had been pestering you since the draw was made about your behaviour. She wouldn’t hesitate to bench you if you were acting out. Her tactics were based on negative reinforcement. It hadn’t worked – all her threats, lectures, and pressures were rendered null because you knew how physical these matches would be. You knew Jona would put on the most physical players, at least to start with.

Lucy, on the other hand, relied on positive reinforcement. As your girlfriend, she was always in your corner, especially on the pitch when a card was lifted above your head. But she didn’t like how often you were suspended or how often your abilities were outshone by the number of yellows next to your name. Your technical prowess was often overlooked by commentators and fans because of the cards.

“You know,” Lucy started, her fingertips brushing your neck as she pulled your hair out of her way. You were standing at the kitchen counter, looking at a recipe on your phone as you planned out your tea.

“What do I know, gorgeous?” you teased, tilting your head up to look at her. Your hands came to rest on top of hers on your waist.

“I think we should set up a sticker chart system or something. What do you think?” She mused, starting an assault on your neck.

“N-no marks, my love,” you stuttered out automatically but leaning back into her body anyway.

“I know.” You could feel the grin against your skin. “But you didn’t answer my question, lovely.” She nipped at your earlobe gently.

“Stickers … what for?” You turned around in her arms, coming to look at her. She didn’t stop her attack, her strong hands coming to angle your head so she had more access to your jaw. You let your eyes slip closed, getting lost in the feeling of her mouth on you.

“As a way to … combat?... your little card problem.” That sobered you right up. You pushed her way and raised an unamused eyebrow at her.

“My card problem?” You snarked.

“Alexia has been on my arse about getting you to … calm down … during matches,” she explained, choosing her words carefully. She moved to put her hands back on your hips, but you stopped her with a hand on her chest.

“So, you went with a sticker chart?” you asked incredulously. “I’m not a child, Lucy.” You never called her Lucy unless you were angry at her; she was always ‘gorgeous’ or ‘my love’, just like you were always ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty girl’ to her.

“I know you’re not, pretty girl.” She cupped your face with her hand. “I think I phrased myself badly. I’m sorry.” Her thumb moved methodically against your cheek, an action that has always calmed you. “How about a little reward system?” She grinned cheekily at you as you narrowed your eyes. “For every match without a card, I’ll treat you?” She proposed.

“I don’t need a-” you started, still annoyed that your girlfriend and your captain felt it necessary to set up a system to manage your behaviour.

“Alexia has been on my arse about this for weeks. She’s serious about benching you, lovely.” She interrupted. You sighed. You were well aware of what Alexia considered unacceptable in the Barca team – and the number of yellow cards you received was one of them. “So, what do you think? I think it’s a win-win situation if you ask me. Alexia will finally back off and not be a minute away from a heart attack, and you get …” she paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it. “Whatever your heart desires.” You could see her reasoning. Judging by the vein in Alexia’s forehead, she wasn’t coping too well with the idea that you would face McCabe in a few weeks. And you get weekly treats if you avoid yellow cards.

“Whatever I want?” You double-checked. Lucy could see you were already agreeing to her idea.

“Whatever. You. Want. Pretty girl.” She punctuated each word with a kiss.

“So, if I wanted a fancy date night at that place in town?” Lucy wasn’t the biggest fan of dates where you had to dress up all fancy – she thought it wasn’t an accurate and complete representation of your relationship. She loved taking you to smaller, more casual restaurants where you could relax, order something to-go, or just cook a nicer meal at home. But Mapi had shown you a place she was planning to take Ingrid for their anniversary, and you had fallen in love – begging Lucy to go on a date there with you. What you didn’t know she was saving it for when she proposed – the ring hidden with her Euro medal buried in the depths of the cupboard in your spare room.

“Whatever you want.” She smiled at your shocked expression.

“Or if I wanted a spa day at home on our day off?” you asked, checking how far she would be willing to go. She would much rather do something on your day off to keep her body moving a little, whereas you would rather lounge on the couch, catching up on your show.

“Whatever you want.” She repeated, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Or…” you tried to think of something she would say no to. “If I asked you to put on my old United jersey? And take a photo in it? And post it on social media?” Your request was ridiculous, but you knew it was something she would never, ever say no to. You had played for United while she was at City, moving to Lyon together, where your relationship had budded into what it is now, before returning to your respective clubs. You were friends before Lyon, having played with each other on the England squad for years, but moving to the new city together had led to something magical. The rival was a constant joke between you, often tuning in to the Derby’s when your schedule allowed for it – her and Keira on one couch, you and Ona on the other – all clad in your particular colours and fighting for the right to brag.

“Whatever you want.” She sighed but loved the fact that it brought that big, wide grin of yours to your face.

“What about if I asked for control?” You wiggled your eyebrow and scanned her body appreciatively, indicating precisely what you hinted at. You could see her eyes flicker slightly, making you think you had found the thing she wouldn’t do as your reward. Lucy loved being in control, and you didn’t mind letting her do it. But occasionally, very, very occasionally, she handed over the ropes (figuratively and literally) to you.

“What. Ever. You. Want,” she said lowly, silencing any more of your questions with a passionate kiss.

This was it. The big day. The first leg of the Champions League semi-final. Arsenal vs. Barcelona. McCabe vs. Y/S/N. You had been good to your word – the reward system was working well. So far, Lucy had treated you to a day at the beach, a nice meal, a new set of lingerie, and a day trip with you to Tarragona on a day off. Four treats for your four matches without a yellow. It would have been more, but you picked up a yellow card during your match with Real Madrid. But this … this was your big test.

“Todas mantienen la cabeza,” Alexia said just before you all left the changing rooms. She said it to everyone, but you know it was aimed at you.

“What do you want your reward to be, pretty girl?” Lucy asked you as you performed your final pre-match ritual (a quick roll of deodorant, a pump of breath spray, and a spritz of perfume—you’re welcome, everyone on the field).

“Not sure, I’ve got an idea, but I might wait for the final for that one,” you winked cheekily at her, giving her an indication of what you were insinuating. She sighed, shaking her head at you.

“Later,” she promised as she guided you into the tunnel.

This match was not going to plan for you. Ona and Pina had already picked up yellows for dissent, and you were only 30 minutes into the match. You were on your best behaviour – even going so far as not to tackle Katie when you would usually have. You could see how much less stress Lucy was under with every game you played where you didn’t have your name on the card list. You weren’t behaving for yourself – you couldn’t care less if you were benched (slight exaggeration, but the sentiment remained). You were doing it for Lucy; her frown lines were easing somewhat; her muscles were less tense; she was sleeping much better. You hadn’t realised your actions added much to her plate.

And then Katie left a studs-up tackle on Lucy and didn’t get carded or even a foul. You were near her when it happened. Lucy was running down the wing with the ball at her feet, you were dropping back a little, allowing her the space to make a cross to an awaiting Patri and Aitana. Katie’s yellow boots appeared from nowhere and clipped her ankles – not even making an attempt to get the ball. It was an obvious card, yet the ref motioned to carry on whilst Lucy was on her knees, clutching at her ankle, her eyes scrunched shut at the pain.

Eventually, the whistle was blown when it was apparent that Lucy wasn’t standing up. You crouched at her side, a hand coming to rub at her back.

“Do you need the medics, my love?” You asked, the tone gentle in comparison to the fury you were filled with.

“Just … gimme a minute,” she gasped. You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your hand resting on her lower back in silent support.

“Estás bien? Está ella bien? Necesitamos a los fisios?” Alexia gushed as she came to your side, a concerned Patri and Marta joining her.

“Ella esta bien,” you said, your words supported by Lucy’s actions as she moved to stand up. You briefly scanned her, nodding to yourself as you confirmed she was fine.

The switch in you was instant. McCabe needed to pay for that. And if the ref wasn’t going to do it, you would.

“Don’t,” Lucy said at the same time as Alexia uttered “no”. You just waved them off, smiling innocently at them as you set up for the corner kick.

The incident that got you the card was well deserved. You had only 2 minutes left of the half – not including injury time – and Katie was starting a last-minute Arsenal press. You were winning comfortably at 3 – 0, but you knew Arsenal would come out hard in the next half; they weren’t called ‘second halfsenal’ for nothing. Could you have gone for a clean tackle? Probably. Could you have just tackled her in general? Yes. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as watching her fly to the ground. She ran full speed down the wing, not looking where her defenders were. You timed your run well, bracing your body as she slammed into you. You had bothered to stick out your leg to make it look like you were aiming for the ball, but everyone, on and off the pitch, knew you were going for revenge. She clattered to the ground in a pile of red and white, and a torrent of Irish-accented swears erupted from her.

You were immediately faced with an angry Aussie. Caitlin shoved your shoulders as she demanded retribution for you. You lifted your hands innocently.

“I was going for the ball,” you said, shrugging a little. You could see the referee approaching, Alexia looking furious at you, and Lucy shaking her head. Still, you could see her smiling – finding the situation at least somewhat amusing. “I was going for the ball,” you repeated to the ref, ignoring the shouts from the Arsenal girls. “See, she’s fine.” You gestured to a now-standing McCabe. It didn’t help your case; the yellow square was lifted above your head as you rolled your eyes.

“Fucking short-arse bitch” you heard McCabe mutter as you all walked away, ready to finish this half.

“And yet, I still put you on the ground,” you smirked at her, letting Lucy drag you away.

Halftime was full of Alexia's lecture. You looked to Jona to see if he would intervene, but he just shrugged. When he saw Lucy go down from a dodgy tackle, he expected nothing less from you.

“Prometiste que te portarías lo mejor posible.”

“She’s still walking, isn’t she?” You weren’t about to apologise for this. This was your style of play; she knew that when you joined the team; Barca knew it when they signed you.

“Qué dije de los amarillos? Te pedí que no los consiguieras. Y que haces?” She continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “Necesitas empezar a actuar de forma más adulta al respecto. No necesitas ser cardada por todo. Recibir tarjetas todo el tiempo es muy inmaduro. No tienes respeto”

“Enough, Alexia.” You interrupted. Yes, she had somewhat of a right to be angry at you, but calling you immature? Saying you had no respect? “I play my style of play. If the club didn’t like it, they wouldn’t have renewed my contract or signed me in the first place. If Jona has a problem with it, he would either speak to me or not play me. But they haven’t. I have renewed with Barca and Jona hasn’t even mentioned it in our one-to-ones. You are the only one who’s up my arse about this. And you’ve been pestering Lucy, too. Newsflash, she’s not my keeper, Alexia, and I am not a child; she’s my girlfriend.” You could see she was trying to interrupt you again, but you pushed through. “If you had maybe spoken to me in a way that suggested you valued me as a player and a person rather than lecturing me every chance you get, we could be in a different situation right now. But no, you have insulted me and the way I play my football, and now you have made me even more pissed off than I already was. So please, leave me alone at the moment.” You were seething. You hadn’t meant to explode at her like you did, but she had hurt your feelings one too many times about a bloody yellow card. You looked around the changing room, seeing the shocked expressions on people’s faces. No one spoke to their captain like that. You didn’t dare glance at Lucy, too afraid of what you might see. You would have seen the proud expression gracing her face if you had. She had been waiting for you to detonate at Alexia; she could see it in the way you grit your teeth during every lecture, the way you took longer showers after training to destress every time Alexia had called you away to talk about your behaviour, the way you were baking more and more as a method to try to quell your anger.

You pushed your way past, banging the door heavily as you stormed back out of the tunnel. You knew the Emirates well, so there were no chances of you getting lost. A few doors down, there was a seldom-used bathroom you could hide in, but you could still hear the chatter that told you the team was in the tunnel, ready to start the second half.

The changing room was silent. You could hear a mouse sneeze if you listened carefully enough.

“Bien entonces,” it was Mapi who spoke – breaking the tension-filled silence.

“Quién se cree que ella es? Todo lo que he estado tratando de hacer es ayudarla a limpiar su juego.” Alexia was incredulous. She believed you needed to clean up your act if you were going to go far at Barca. She didn’t consider the fact that you had numerous accolades to your name, coming second in the Ballon d’Or for the past 3 years and earning yourself a Sports Personality of the Year twice.

“No, Alexia. You are in the wrong.” Lucy snapped. She couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. Yes, she wanted you to stop getting yellow cards, but not at the expense of your style of play. She wanted the cards to stop being the only thing commentators spoke about when your name was mentioned. She wanted the world to see you as she did. “I know you meant well, but you basically asked her to stop playing in the way that makes her so unique. Imagine if someone did that to you, you’d be pretty pissed off too.” Alexia frowned. That wasn’t what she had meant – not at all. She wanted you to stop getting the yellow cards because she viewed something to be feared, not something that was just a part of playing football.

“Y ahora te has ido y la has hecho aún más enojada,” Patri laughed humourlessly. “No se sorprendan si hoy vemos un rojo, chicas,” she added as the team made their way back to the pitch.

You slipped silently out of the bathroom, joining the rest of the team as if you were just the last one to leave the changing room.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Lucy said, extending her hand to you as she lingered just out of sight of the cameras.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You squeezed her hand, letting her know you were ok.

“Please, try not to get a red,” she joked.

“If McCabe behaves, so will I,” you said seriously. She smirked at you – just the sort of thing she was expecting from you.

McCabe did not behave. It was remarkable how calm you had been, considering how riled you were during the half-time break. You had spent a lot of this second half on the floor, being a victim of harsh tackles from McCabe herself and a particular Aussie. You could see your English teammates wincing every time you went down. But you always gave as good as you got, leaving unforgiving shoves and exacting tackles just on the right side of nasty.

It was in the 55th minute when the second incident occurred. You were genuinely going for the ball. You both jumped up for a header – you might have jumped more sideways than up, but that was neither here nor there. The slight knock you gave her made her lose her balance, landing hard on her hands and knees rather than her feet. It didn’t help that you landed perfectly upright, either. You knew how much running into you could hurt – particularly if you braced yourself (which you had been); she had been jogging backwards, unaware of your presence behind her.

“Oh, my god. I am so sorry. Are you ok?” You were genuine this time; both your national and club teammates could see it. This time, Leah was the first one to you, pulling you away by your shoulder.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” She asked, shocked by your display of aggression.

“I’m sorry, Lee. That was a complete accident.” You looked down at McCabe rolling around on the floor, gripping at her ankle. She just sighed in response. Lucy was the first of your Barca friends to reach you.

“I’m sorry,” you said dejectedly.

“I know you are, lovely” Lucy squeezed your elbow gently. “But you know you’re going to get a card, right?”

“Yeh, I know.” You turned to face the ref, shocked to see Alexia pleading with her and arguing for you. You were unsurprised when her protests were waved away, and you were presented with the yellow and red squares before being shown that you had to leave the pitch. You took it graciously and headed off the pitch.

You were escorted to the changing room by an official but were left to your own devices. You showered quickly before changing into your clothes, grateful you had packed some ‘street clothes’ – just jeans and one of Lucy’s hoodies. As you heard the Emirates erupt with cheers, the idea was planted in your head. This was a Champions League semi-final, no way in hell were you missing that. So, you slipped your accreditation around your neck and left the changing room. The crowd were still celebrating the Arsenal goal as you emerged from the tunnel. You saw Jonas spot you, his eyes widening as he gestured to the Fourth Official. You nodded once and waved at Jona and the other Barca coaches before hopping over the barricade. You spotted a woman with a young girl sitting on her lap with a free seat next to her.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the seat. The woman shook her head and laughed a little as you made yourself comfortable next to her. The little girl was staring at you wide-eyed. She was wearing a little Barca jersey with her hair in two plaits, looking the epitome of cute.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, extending your hand to her. “What’s your name?” After a second of cajoling from her mother, she piped up.

“Lucie. But with an -ie not a -y.”

“Well, Lucie with an -ie not a -y, that is a very good name.” You smiled and turned back to the pitch, watching the game resume. You could tell the cameras were on you; you could see Ingrid shaking her head from the bench every time your face was displayed on the big screen.

The rest of the match was uneventful. Barca scored another two goals, bringing the final score to 5 – 1.

“So, Lucie with an -ie. Whose number’s on the back?” You nodded to her shirt.

“Lucy Bronze,” she cheered. “She’s my favourite. And we have the same name, but we spell it differently.” Lucie said with all the seriousness of a 6-year-old with something essential to tell you.

“Can I let you into a secret?” You leant down to whisper to her conspiratorially. She nodded enthusiastically. “She’s my favourite too.” Lucie looked up wide-eyed at you. “Do you want me to try and get you her shirt?” You asked. Her eyes grew even wider; you thought her head might pop off with how aggressively she was nodding. “Ok, wait here, ok. I’ll be right back.” You smiled as you hopped the barrier again, making your way onto the pitch and headed straight to Lucy. She was standing with Keira and Leah, clearly having a bit of a catch-up.

“Hello, trouble.” Keira teased as you appeared.

“Yeh, yeh.” You lightly shoved her head. “Can I have your shirt, my love?” You asked Lucy. She cocked her head at your request. “I think I might have found your biggest fan.” You smiled as you started to take your jumper off, grateful that you had put a shirt on underneath for once. Lucy laughed as she whipped off her top, thanking you as she slipped the hoodie on to keep her covered. You hugged Leah quickly before dragging Lucy away to find your new friend.

“Alexia wants to talk to you, pretty girl,” Lucy said as you pulled her back to the stands.

“Later,” you sighed, not really in the mood for anything Alexia had to say. “I want you to meet my new friend first.” You looked at her with a wide smile as you came to a stop in front of Lucie.

“Lucie with an -ie meet Lucy with a -y. Luce, this is my new friend, Lucie.” You did the unnecessary introductions.

“Hi,” Lucy grinned at the young girl. You handed the jersey off to her mum as you left them alone for a little bit, moving to interact with some of the other fans.

A little while later, familiar strong arms wrapped around your waist, distracting you from your conversation with Alessia and Lotte.

“Nosotras tenemos que ir, lovely” Lucy whispered, kissing your shoulder lightly.

“We get it; you speak Spanish.” Alessia teased, waving goodbye to you as you sent them both a kiss.

“Vamos,” you joked as you leant back into Lucy. Although your position made it a little awkward to walk, you were too comfortable to move.

“What reward do you want this week?” Lucy whispered in your ear as you entered the tunnel.

“Reward? But I got a card, two, in fact. Or did you miss the part where McCabe ran into me twice, and you went down a player?” You looked at her, confused.

“I know, but you were so, so sexy.” She squeezed you not-too-gently. “I’ve got to treat my pretty girl when she looks that good,” she teased, but you knew by the glint in her eyes that she was deadly serious. You hummed.

“I think I might have some ideas,” you mused as you leant back on her subtly, letting your head drop back on her shoulder.

“Good,” she whispered back, littering a series of kisses to your cheek. “My short, sexy defender.” She laughed.

“Oi,” you slapped her arm. “Enough with the short jokes.”

“Never, you get so riled up by them.” She laughed at your angry expression. “And you know exactly what that does to me,” she said lowly in your ear – a lasting promise of later left unspoken in the air.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

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