#euro match schedule

[franchufeuillassier]

you should watch the wnba because it's entertaining. it's not a charity or a cause or a social justice movement. it's just a fun time.

Yeah i know but i already watch like 30 different sports and i can barely keep up with those 😭

Plus i believe that unless you pay for the league pass (that i can't afford) you can't watch it in Spain :(

#i did not mean my post in a “you are all watching the WNBA because its a social justice issue” im sorry if i made it sound like that 😭😭😭 #i follow the wings on Twitter and i like to more or less keep up with they are doing #but with the season having a weird schedule #the matches being at American times #not being able to watch it easily #and my day literally having like 5 sports per day.... #i just can't :( #i do watch the Spanish women nt when its wc/euros/Olympics time tho #my day having 5 sports per day yes #its 5 am i forgot how to English

[awfcspencer]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a Leah Williamson fic where Leah and famous!reader have been dating for a long time and nobody knows. Basically, reader is seen attending a game and nobody knows why until a fan secretely takes a pic of them at a fancy dinner date (Leah in her SPOTY suit) thus breaking the internet. But Leah and reader only know about it after a night of fun (maybe smut) and make their couple debut.

Apologies for the long essay😅; love your works❤️

Secret’s Out || leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x famous!reader

prompt: requested

warnings: suggestive, a few swear words, mostly fluff

a/n: thank you for the request, hope this is what you were looking for, enjoy! Also thank you that is so sweet!

There was constant attention on your very private life. Tabloids and journalists were desperate to write a dramatic column about anything they assumed was ‘juicy’ or ‘interesting’. Simply just vying for views and money. It made you sick to your stomach. Being in the ‘bright light’, as some people call it, was certainly a privilege, it had blessed you with amazing opportunities and provided you with an income, but it can get tricky very quickly.

Especially when you were dating one of the most famous professional women’s footballers. A woman who captained England in the Woman’s Euros when they won on home soil and leads Arsenal’s defense. The face of women’s football one might say. But to you, she was just Leah. Leah who loved rom-coms films and always cried at the end, Leah who had the palette of a toddler even when you tried to convince her to eat something other than chicken nuggets and smilies. Leah who you were insanely in love with.

Both being very famous individuals in your own industries, it was important for the both of you to keep things just the two of you. As Taylor Swift once said, ‘Romance is not dead if you keep just yours.’ Your close friends and family knew as well as Leah’s teammates but the public was blissfully unaware. You and Leah were approaching two years and it was still a major secret, thankfully.

Things were obviously different in your relationship. You weren’t able to take Leah on the red carpet with you, boast all about your rockstar defender girlfriend on the pitch, or really even hypothetically stand too close before social media would run wild with different rumors. It was not only drama outlets, but also fans. It was easier to be single these days on social media because the fans can become very hurtful and rude when they realize their favorites are ‘off the market’. You didn’t want anyone sending Leah hate and she certainly didn’t want you on the receiving end. It was annoying at times, but you and Leah liked the privacy. You both would choose a night in, cuddled on the couch, watching a film over a loud smelly club or bar any day.

One thing that really hurt your heart with the situation you were in was not being able to outwardly root for Leah at her Arsenal or England games, in person. Sure you would always watch on any device you could when she was playing, but it wasn’t the same as being in person. A combination of busy, conflicting schedules and wanting to avoid any unnecessary extra drama that would certainly take away from the importance of the match always kept you away from the stadium.

You really wanted to attend one of Leah’s matches soon since she has made her return back from her ACL injury. You had seen the daily struggles of her 9 month journey and you knew how important it was for her to be back on the pitch, playing the sport she loves. So you decided to bring it up to her one day after dinner, wanting to hear her thoughts on the subject.

“Hey Lee what are the odds I come to the Emirates when you guys play Man United? My schedule is clear for the day.” you bite the bullet and ask her. In your relationship, communication had become incredibly important, especially when you would be away from each other for long portions of time, having to rely on Facetime and text messages. So it was always easy talking to Leah.

“I mean I would love to have you there baby, but what about the fans?” She moved from her spot on the kitchen island to standing behind you as you washed the dishes. Placing soft kisses on your neck as her hands found your hips.

It was a good point that you knew she was going to bring up. You had been so adamant on seeing Leah play that you almost kind of forgot about everything else. There would certainly be rumors thrown around like crazy, but rumors were really just rumors. There were new rumors about you or Leah almost every day, what was one more?

“I know, I know.” Thinking through everything she was saying. A small section of your mind thinking let the fans speculate, you want to support Leah, that was what is most important. “I want to be there.” Turning to face her with the most serious look you could muster up so she could tell you it was really important to you.

“Okay, you can sit with my family in the box. I can call my mom and let her know you will be there.” Leah knew the risk of you going, but inside she was beaming. You would be there to support her at a sold-out Emirates. You would be there, in person.

“Perfect. I need to find my McCabe kit to wear too!” you joke out knowing how to rile her up. Leah casually smacks your ass as you return to washing the dishes.

“Don’t even joke like that.” Her stern face not lasting long as she breaks into a smile and a laugh.

—————

In your perfectly disguised outfit, you make your way with Amanda toward your assigned seating area. The Emirates was loud and energetic, it was supposed to be a solid match. Two pretty matched teams with incredibly loyal fanbases.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Amanda says to you as you walk. You had met Amanda pretty early in your and Leah’s relationship and she was just as lovely as Leah. Amanda had quickly become a mother figure for you.

“Me too. I’m excited to watch Leah play live instead of on a tiny phone.” Your heart was pounding, eager to watch Leah play, even more eager to watch Leah win.

Only a few fans had noticed you were in attendance as they looked into the box, but with your large black puffer, hat, and Arsenal scarf on, they weren’t able to see the ‘Williamson 6’ kit you were wearing with pride.

The Arsenal started strong on offense, a quick goal by Viv put them up 1-0 and halftime ended with Beth finding the back of the net for a second. Leah had her stern demeanor on when she played, but when she looked into the box and saw you standing with her mother as you watched, she sent you a small wave and a soft smile.

At the halftime whistle, you were desperately hungry. Stepping out of the box as you searched for something to eat. You were met with a few more fans whom you sent smiles and took photos with. Whenever someone had asked why you were in attendance, you just told them you had grown up a major Arsenal fan. It wasn’t a complete lie but it was the easiest to tell. One fan had asked your favorite player and you jokingly told them that it is Alessia Russo. I mean who doesn’t love England’s star girl.

In the second half, Manchester United’s Geyse dribbled down the midfield and shot on goal and the ball quickly went passed Manu. Nearing the 80th minute, Ella Toone managed to find the left corner of the goal and it was now tied 2-2. The energy in the Emirates picked up dramatically.

To say you were amped up would be an understatement, jumping up and down for every forward ball sent down the pitch, hoping for the 3 points with another goal. You were cheering loud and proud for Arsenal, mostly for your defender girlfriend though.

You didn’t spend much time on social media, it was best for your mental health to steer clear of it most of the time. So when pictures of you at the Arsenal game started to go viral, you had no idea. Many people speculating why you were there and any other nonsense shipping of you and the players. Thankfully because of London’s bipolar temperatures, you still had your coat on, hiding the real reason you were here.

In extra time, Caitlin sent a dangerous ball to Viv and she scored. The Arsenal win 3-2. The crowd went wild with enthusiasm, as did you. You hugged Amanda and the rest of her family in the box as you bid them farewell’s and left.

Leah and you had already planned a small date after the match at a fancy restaurant just outside the city to escape prying eyes. So instead of greeting her at the end of the match like all the other girlfriends and family did, you quickly retreated to Leah’s car. Waiting for her to finish up her walk around the stadium, get changed, and then meet you in her car. You had just simply changed into a long black dress in the car. Leah had tinted windows anyway so it didn’t really matter.

What you didn’t expect was for Leah to get into the car with a suit on. Your mouth was open and dry, so incredibly dry. She looked breathtaking. The black of her suit made her blonde hair stick out and the black tie was doing wonders in your head.

“Lee you look amazing. Definitely don’t look like you just got done playing 90 minutes of football.” You joked with her.

“It’s one of my many, many talents.” she sarcastically said as she shrugged and sent you a wink. “You look good too baby. Stunning as always.” giving you a quick peck.

Leah in her suit and her right hand dangerously high on your thigh wanted to make you scream out to cancel the date and take you straight home. Use that tie to tie you to the bed. But patience was key, good girls were patient, and good girls got rewarded.

The drive wasn’t long and eventually, you were pulling into the parking lot. It was a nice modern place, big glass windows surrounded the building and inside it was even more lovely. Leah had reserved you a table in the back to try to avoid extra attention to the both of you.

The food was mouthwatering and you were so captivated by Leah in her suit. Your eyes were dead-set on her as she spoke so neither you nor Leah noticed when a couple fans outside the restaurant had taken a few quick shots of the two of you holding hands at the small table through the glass windows.

The dinner could not have lasted longer, Leah was certainly taking her time finishing her meal. Leah was guiding her long legs up yours and her hand placements were anything but subtle. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“Lee please take me home and fuck me” was all you needed to say as Leah grabbed your hand and led you to her car.

—————

You had woken up in the morning before Leah. You traced your fingertips over the red lines all over her back from last night’s actions, carefully moving her blonde locks out of the way. It was peaceful, the sun was just rising outside of your open blinds and Leah was sound asleep.

A loud phone call noise ruined the silence. First, it was your phone ringing, and then it was Leah’s. You untangle from Leah slightly and grab your phone from the bedside table to stop the annoying noise.

Quietly saying “Hello?” as you didn’t want to wake Leah just yet.

It was your agent.

“Have you been on social media today?” she almost screams at you, anger definitely in her voice.

“What no? Why?” inching yourself more upright in the bed and leaning over to grab Leah’s phone as it has continued to ring.

“Did you and Leah go on a date last night?” she continues to swarm you with questions and not explaining why she was calling. She obviously knew you and Leah were dating, but why did it matter if you went on a secret date?

“Yes? Why?” utterly confused.

“A fan posted a photo of you and Leah last night and it’s gone viral.”

The first thought through your mind was fuck. The second was that you immediately needed to wake Leah. You look on Twitter and there are several photos of you and Leah last night. One of you two holding hands at the table. One of the two of you getting into Leah’s car afterwards. There were several pictures almost documenting the whole date.

Everyone making the quick connection of the real reason you were at the Arsenal game yesterday as social media ran wild with dating rumors. I mean by the evidence, they weren’t really rumors at this point, they were facts.

Gently pushing her shoulder as you said, “Lee you need to wake up.”

Of course, she turns right over without even opening her eyes, shifting away from your hand.

“Leah Williamson wake up!” you shout at her.

You weren’t angry at Leah, but the panic that you felt in your chest at the thought of your little secret getting out startled you. Were you really ready to let the public know?

Leah could hear the stress in your voice as she was now awake, rubbing her eyes and looking at you.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sleep definitely still in her voice.

“Someone posted photos from our date last night.” you tell her as you hand her your phone with the pictures on it.

You had completely forgotten about your agent on the phone, as she rambled off ideas on PR tactics that could hopefully lessen the damage. Leah scrolls through the photos and the countless responses.

“What do we do?” you ask Leah as your finger pinch your nose.

“What do you want to do?”

You fully expected her to begin siding with your agent, a quick way to end this little mess. But as she looked at you, she wanted to do what you wanted. And what you wanted was to love Leah in public, tired of loving her in private. You wanted to post funny pictures of Leah, she always made you laugh. You wanted to hold her hand in public, letting everyone know she is yours. You wanted to take her on extravagant dates and show her how much you loved her every single day, in public and in private.

Sure the media was ruthless, but you and Leah would battle the storm together.

“I guess the secret’s out.” you chuckled out. The stress in the situation lessened, you would weather the media together. You told your agent that you were going to let the public know and hung up.

Leah, on her phone now, messaging back to a couple people who had reached out about the photos and asked what she was going to do.

“Are you okay with this?” you asked her to make sure she was feeling the same way you were.

“Yeah I think so. I don’t want us to be a secret anymore. I want the whole world to know your mine” she said as she intertwines your fingers with hers and pulls the comforter up as you both choose your favorite photos to let the world know.

“I guess the secret’s out.” you joked as you pressed publish.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #woso couples #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #awfc #arsenal women

[gabigabigabby]

cristiano's daughter | j. félix

joão félix x ronaldo!footballer!reader

synopsis: joão steals your celebration as his way of telling you that goal was yours

a/n: plot is set during the euro qualifier game against luxembourg in march where he did that celebration with his arms crossed (ifykyk). joão is barça player bc it's perfect for this plot and y/n is barça femeni player. again, perfect for the plot. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 700++ FOLLOWERS, ik it's bee a while since i was on here but i really do appreciate all the love you give on my works 🥹🥹 so enjoy this one!

content/warnings: fluffy as hell, y/n taking a promise extremely seriously, dialogue in portuguese and spanish, eva and mateo being the cutest twin siblings ever, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! 💫

🎵 streaming: infrunami - steve lacy

—

"papá nos estamos mirando. devuélvenos el saludo." gio begins talking, but you were in your football la-la-land.

i could've done a bicycle kick yesterday, you thought. it could've been my match.

don't you just love it? being in your own thoughts for the 500th time today. sense the sarcasm? "y/n," gio catches your attention, snapping you out of your head. "joão te busca, cariño." [dad is looking for us, wave back. joão is looking for you, sweetheart.]

your eyes run all over the pitch before landing on the squad, joão the second to last guy in the line-up. he sends you a wave, grinning to himself when he sees you facing him. he'd never know if you were making eye contact or not; he was just happy you were there. you wave back at him, not even bothering to hide your smile from your stepmother.

"estoy feliz de que estés feliz. y tienes suerte porque es un chico lindo," gio winks before you both share a laugh; something you missed sharing with georgina. because of your tight schedule and the fact that you play football in spain and don't live in riyadh with your parents and siblings, you'd missed out every single important thing that's happened in the ronaldo house. eva and mateo's sixth birthday, alana's first day of school, bella's first steps, junior joining the al-nassr academy. everything. "¿sabes lo que significa? bebés lindos." [i'm happy you're happy. and you're lucky because he's a cute boy. and you know what that means? cute babies.]

"mamá!" you try to stop gio from going any further. because babies? aren't you too young to be thinking about children right now? your career at barcelona had only begun to skyrocket, and joão had only recently began his season stint at the club. children and settling down should be the last thing on both your minds. although every now and then, you can't help but think about it. would you and joão last long enough for children of your own in the future? "i'm only 22." you mutter under your breath, soft enough for gio to completely miss it.

the referee's whistle snaps you out of your own thoughts — a place you'd often find yourself in when you're out of the pitch. you were worried about the fact that joão barely got to feel the ball. especially after he promised you he'd give you a strike tonight.

"no, i promise," his voice lingers around you from hours ago. "i'll make sure i get the ball, and it's yours, querida. eu prometo." [i promise]

well, he promised — and promises stick with you like gorilla glue. even at the ripe old age of 22, you still believe in pinky promises the way georgina still believes in romance movies. that's besides the point.

it was up till the point after your dad was awarded a penalty. he took it, it went in, your dad is a worldwide legend, blah blah blah. you knew it was bound to happen everytime portugal play. the game was inching up to 14 minutes as your legs begin to bounce nervously. what made it worse was that mateo was on your lap when it happened.

"querida, why are your legs shaking?" mateo's neck cranes to look at you. all you could give him was a weak smile.

"nothing, 'zinho. just nervous for papai like all of us, né?" you answer, hoping mateo will take it and leave it alone.

"you're nervous for joão." if there's one thing you could curse about mateo, it's how close he is to you, even though you no longer live with your family. on his day, mateo would feel lonely — even though he's a twin — and ask gio to facetime you. most of the time, he'd catch you at the right time; driving back home from training, going out for lunch with joão on an off day. and sometimes you wouldn't pick up, occupied with training for the upcoming game that week.

mateo would never fail to call you at least twice a month, understanding how tight your schedule is and that he has to leave you alone sometimes, afraid you'd be exhausted after a long day of training. sometimes you'd give him a call too, missing your queridinho on your day.

"não somos todos?" you nervously chuckle, your hands were resting on mateo's lap, its fingers slowly picking at your cuticles. [aren't we all?]

"si, but you're stressed," mateo pouts. "joão told me you made him promise to score tonight. and you know what, y/n? i hope he scores too." he gives you his typical mateo smile; the absolute sweetest thing you could ever see.

not even a mere few seconds later, a cross from bernardo comes in. you try to anticipate which portugal boy it'd reach. you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding when you see the ball making immediate contact with joão's head, as he nicks the ball in past the luxembourg goalkeeper.

the crowd was anticlimactic, though, you'd have to say. there is a totally valid reason for it. is joão offside or not? the referee blows his whistle, giving the goal to portugal as they now lead the game 2-0. you carefully picked mateo up as you stand, the boy's arms in the air as he celebrates the allowed goal from his hermano. you watch as joão turns to the grandstand your family is situated at.

you can only assume he's looking at you at that point, but gio turns to face you and mateo to state the obvious. "el te esta mirando!" gio screams in a whispery manner. you'd only assumed that, but you were wearing the white portugal away kit, allowing joão to identify you clear as day from the pitch compared to the rest of your family who were clad in black winter coats. you agree, the weather is a bit nippy in luxembourg.

joão looks you dead in the eye — or you assume — and crosses his arms. you immediately realise what it meant, smiling to yourself as your dad, bruno and bernardo begin to crowd him and give him words of congratulations on the smooth yet second nature goal of his.

you wait till after the game, where they defeat luxembourg 6-0 to regroup with joão and cristiano. cris, before anything, would engulf gio and bella first, giving joão full leeway to reach for you first. "did you see?!" the taste of excitement is still sweet and prominent on joão's tongue when he speaks.

"i saw! my celebration at barça. thief." you joke, pushing a fist into his bicep playfully.

"amo-te, linda. obrigado por estar aqui." joão smiles, not hesitating to squish your face into his chest. [i love you beautiful, thank you for being here]

"eu vim buscar o papai, mas tudo bem." you shrug jokingly before finding yourself in your papai's arms and listening to him thank you for coming to a portugal game — an away game, no less. [i came for dad, but okay]

#joão félix #joao felix #joão félix x reader #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix x y/n #joao felix fluff #football #football x y/n #football x you #football x oc #football x reader

[leahluvr]

nothing’s wrong - lucy bronze x reader

genre: reader gets diagnosed with a heart condition right before the euro finals, angst

warnings: chronic condition, injury

(requested)

____________________________________________

the last few weeks had been great, but awful. while the excitement for your teams progression in the 2022 euros was unimaginable, your underlying illness threatened to overshadow your joy. before the euros had kicked off, unbeknownst to your long term girlfriend, lucy, you had been feeling agonising chest pains, almost like palpitations, a shortness of breath, feeling lightheaded when standing up after sitting down or after a long day of training, and a plethora of other unusual occurrences. even during times of intimacy with lucy, you struggled to pluck up the courage to ask to slow down, feeling your own heart race and beginning to hyperventilate. you did your best to hide your pain from lucy as you knew she would become overbearingly cautious if you told her anything. you couldn’t burden her.

seeing that you had progressed further into the tournament, you made the responsible decision to visit the gp, brushing it off to lucy, letting her know it was just a ‘yearly checkup’.

“yearly checkup?” she asked, “but, love, we have regular checkups at camp all the time?”

“i know but,” you stopped to think of something to come up with, “my mum’s still got me signed up with this clinic; got the memo from mum and the gp to head in so…”

“alright, well if you say so,” she didn’t look so convinced, but to her, why else would you need to visit a doctor? “good luck, babe!”

she pressed a quick but deep kiss to your lips before you left out the door, keys in hand.

you sat in the waiting room impatiently, your leg shaking uncontrollably. again, out of nowhere, you clenched your chest in pain. you were even more eager than before to find out what was going on with your body, it posed as a constant reminder of your fragile state.

“yn yln” a nurse, holding a tablet, looked around the room before you stood, sending you a forced smile.

“right so, to definitively explain any of these symptoms your experiencing,” the doctor who sat before, you rested his hands on his knees, “we are going to need to run a few tests,”

“and since the mri is available in this schedule block, we’ll get that out the way, other wise you’ll be on a waiting list for possibly weeks.”

you kept your mouth shut and nodded in compliance.

after one uncomfortably claustrophobic mri, a couple of blood tests and other tests you couldn’t quite wrap your head around or understand, you were sat down in front of your doctor again.

“now, you won’t get the test results back for at least a week, so we’ll have you come visit again when we get those processed. given your symptoms and based off previous patients, i’d say you have postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, more so known as pots,”

“which means; before you get any prescription medication, i’d advise you not to partake in any vigorous cardio activity like running, long distance walking, swimming or cycling.”

your jaw dropped and you chuckled at the suggestion in utter disbelief.

“i’m sorry but, i’m a professional footballer, i’ve got a semi-final and possibly a final game coming up to play, i’ve never gotten this far before, it’s a once in a life time opportunity. i have play.”

“look, i’d heavily advise you not to play your games at all but, if you do, i’d highly recommend for you to chat to your coach or manager to cut your time on the pitch, you need to let your body rest even if you aren’t experiencing extreme symptoms.”

you weren’t going to let some stupid heart condition stop you from winning that euros trophy with your national team and the love of your life. so what did you do? you didn’t listen. you disregarded your doctors advice with a hefty cost.

the semi-final had a positive outcome, england dominating and leading into the final. you had managed to play for the first half of the match and sat down, breathless and dizzy; you were fine. the test results from the appointment were still yet to come, so you didn’t visit the doctors again before the final game.

you quietly sat next to the right of lucy on the coach, her hand intertwined yours, thumb moving back and forth on your hand to soothe the nerves. the two of you had your heads lent against each other, finding comfort in one another’s proximity. suddenly, you were grasping at your chest, it ached terribly; it felt as though it was burning slowly in molten lava.

“babe, are you alright?” she looked at your with concern, eyes frantic for an explanation.

you eased your expression of pain with a short laugh.

“i think i ate my cereal too fast this morning from all the nerves,” you say, gritting a smile, “i’ve got heartburn!”

“you stupid girl,” she smiled gently, “have some water, love.”

she passed you her water bottle, and as you chugged it down, you were washed with the slight relief of pain and relief of lucy believing you. you could not cost lucy stressing out over you; of all people, especially before a final.

when you took a step into the stadium, the fans roared in anticipation. the energy was palpable, but so was the pain in your chest.

when the whistle was blown, your body moved on sheer willpower, adrenaline drowning out the cries of protest within.

you made eye contact with lucy on the pitch several times, her eyes fixed on you, mixed with pride and concern.

the first half passed in a blur, and as you retreated to the sidelines, you gasped for air, your vision blurring at the edges. lucy rushed to your side, her worry etched into every line on her face.

“sweet, what’s wrong?” she asked, placing a hand on your cheek, “i think you need to stop, yn, sub off for the next half, you look so burnt out.”

“i can’t let the team down, lucy. i’ll be fine!” you managed a weak smile trying to reassure her.

but even as you said the words, doubt crept in. you’d have to push through another 45 minutes of the game. your heart flooded with guilt, seeing as lucy was still unaware of your body’s intentions.

“yn!” sarina called for you, “what’s going on? you’re playing really badly, losing possession of the ball. if you don’t get your head in the game for this next half, i’m going make you sit out, there are other girls here who want to experience the game.”

you looked towards the ground in regret, you knew it wasn’t right for you to play. still, you wanted to contribute to the win, selfishly.

“sorry boss,” you apologised, shooting a smirk, “think it’s all the nerves about winning!”

sarina laughed and let you run off.

during the second half, you found yourself struggling to keep up. despite the excitement of providing the assist to tooney’s first goal for england, the pain in your chest intensified. your breaths came in ragged gasps and your legs felt like lead. despite the signs of your body begging for you to stop, you persisted. you couldn’t give up, there were still a view minutes to go.

in the final moments of the game, you pushed forward, using your last reserves of energy to fuel your movements.

as the crowd erupted in cheers, you collapsed to the ground, hands clawing at your chest that was constricting with pain. the action of having your eyes closed in contribution to the consecutive jabs you felt in your heart, dulled out the noise of your surroundings.

none of the team, not even lucy, had noticed you struggling, they’d all been huddling together and celebrating their history-changing win. you managed to push yourself up from the ground, which was a bad idea. as soon as you stood, your vision began to blur; pitch combining with the crowd. it felt as though gravity pulled you down, as you roughly collapsed to the grass from feeling faint, the next thing you know; everything went black.

it didn’t take long for the team to notice your lack of presence, as they heard the cheers of the crowd had transitioned into gasps and screams.

lucy was by your side in an instant, her hands quickly coming to the base of your neck for support.

“baby, yn, wake up please,” her voice quivered, she brushed your hair away your face and pressing a hard kiss to your forehead.

the team and medics surrounded your limp body, seemingly baffled by the sudden fainting.

but as your body began convulsing and your breath went from unusual to gone, your younger teammates began to cry, turning away from the scene.

“get the paramedics!” lucy’s voice cracked in panic, looking around frantically for someone to say or do something. tears began falling from eyes, and she pushed them desperately away with her hands.

she could see hempo sprinting to the sidelines, asking to get the paramedics that had specially been on standby for the final.

it didn’t take long for the paramedics to have their hands on your chest, wasting no time to check your pulse, going straight to compressing firmly and quickly with no prior precautions.

lucy’s heart shattered when she made out the sound of a few of your ribs cracking from the compressions. was she going to lose you?

lucy had encased your hands in hers the whole ride to the hospital, drowning in fear. but lucy couldn’t look at you, way too scared and worried for your health. the paramedics had managed to get your heart beating at a regular rate and breathing in control, but you were yet to awaken.

the hospital room you were now situated in was quiet, heart rate monitor beeping from normal to moderately high, in waves. lucy stayed by your side, staring at the iv drip slowly releasing into the needle plunged in your arm.

there was a knock on the door and a nurse walked in to look at lucy, a smile on her face.

“hi, a friend, i’m assuming?” she asked, looking back at forth between your unconscious body and lucy.

“nah, girlfriend.” lucy replied.

“oh i’m sorry, um so i’ve got a bit of a synopsis for you. so yn here, seeing she’s been recently diagnosed with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, the doctors just said that she’s had a severe pots episode, very similar to a heart attack. she’s got a couple of broken ribs from the cpr but, they’ll heal in no time. not to worry, she’ll be okay in a few weeks time.”

“i’m sorry, she’s been diagnosed with what?”

“postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome or you probably know it as pots,” she informed lucy, quickly noticing her face of shock and confusion, “…she hadn’t told you yet?”

“no,” lucy whispered a reply.

“i’m really sorry, it’s a chronic heart syndrome. well, she’ll be awake very soon, so i wish you luck with your conversation. let me know if you need anything.”

lucy curtly nodded to the nurse and watched her walk out the door before repositioning her attention to you. her eyes wavered over your sleeping body.

she placed her hands over her face and broke down crying. she sobbed for minutes, though it felt like hours to her. obsessive thoughts clouded her head, subsequently haunting her.

why hadn’t you told her? were you to scared to tell her? did you not trust her? didn’t you tell her everything? why? did you even love her?

you slowly opened your eyes to the harsh fluorescent lights beaming from above. the sterile smell of the hospital room filled your senses and you tuned in to hear the beeps of the monitor and quiet sobs and sniffles coming from beside you.

“darling, don’t cry,” you croaked, lifting and reaching a heavy arm towards her, though it felt like it was anchored to the bed.

lucy almost plunged towards you when she noticed your voice and lifted her head to see your eyes, droopy, but open. she had to restrain herself from embracing you tightly, as she was reminded of the broken ribs that the nurse had mentioned earlier.

“you scared the shit the out of me,” she whispered in your neck, as you caressed her head gently, “why didn’t you saying anything?”

“i’m so sorry luce, i was so worried i was going to scare you,” you sighed, “i didn’t want to stress you out before the final, so i was going to wait before i told you.”

“yn, i would rather want to make sure your okay, then win some stupid football game. you mean everything to me and i don’t want to lose you.”

“i’m sorry, lucy, i love you.”

“i love you too,” lucy whispered, voice full of emotion, “but promise me you’ll never shut me out. this is such a big thing to hide. we’ll face these things together, no matter what, okay?.”

____________________________________________

an: dk if i like how this turned out 🧍‍♀️

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #engwnt #woso one shot #woso community #woso

[magicfootballstuff]

Dirty Little Secret - part 5 (leila ouahabi x reader)

Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.

Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader

Part 5/?

Read other parts here.

———

You’ve hardly spoken to Leila since the news broke that she’ll be playing for Manchester City next season, and not at all since the tournament began. You’re completely focused on your goal of winning the Euros, as Leila probably is too, and you immerse yourself in the bubble of the Lionesses camp while trying to block out outside noise. That includes talking to Leila. 

You watch her games though. In between your own matches and the intense training schedule, there’s plenty of downtime and you manage to catch quite a few of the other games on the large screen in the Lionesses’ television room, including the Spanish team’s group games. You act like you’re watching them out of professional curiosity, knowing the likelihood of having to face Spain in the knockout rounds, but you’re as focused on Leila as an individual as you are on the Spanish team as a whole.

Sure enough, after a successful unbeaten group stage, England have to play against Spain in their quarter final match and it might be the hardest game you’ve ever played so far in your career.

It’s not just the physical aspect - one hundred and twenty minutes on a muggy summer evening against a team that has the majority of the possession - but also the mental side. When Spain go ahead, it’s the first goal that England have conceded all tournament, the first time you’ve found yourselves in a losing position, and it takes resilience like you’ve never seen before to pull yourself back not just level, but into the lead.

You almost forget that you’re playing against Leila’s team. She’s on the bench, which you feel conflicted about, having been looking forward to facing her on the pitch again, but at least it removes that possible distraction.

The final whistle blows and thanks to Georgia’s extra time worldie, England are through to the semi-finals.

You walk around the pitch, grinning and hugging your own teammates in celebration, while shaking the hands of the heartbroken Spanish players. Some of them, you know from the Copa de la Reina afterparty, where you were Leila’s guest, and it’s hard to look them in the eye knowing that you’ve just crushed their dreams of progressing further in this tournament.

You walk past Ona Batlle, who you’ve played against many times in the league, and who is being comforted by Rachel. Then Mapi Leon, who you know is one of Leila’s closest friends, lets you pull her in for a brief one-armed hug, but all the time you’re looking for one person.

You spot Leila from across the pitch, still wearing her purple substitute bib, and she must see you too because you end up slowly meandering towards each other as you do the rounds on the pitch.

Leila isn’t quite crying, not like some of her teammates who left everything out on the pitch in one hundred and twenty minutes of gruelling football, but the look in her eyes is one of heartbreak.

You don’t know what to say.

In the end, words aren’t needed. You’re not sure who initiates it, but you end up in each other’s arms. Leila is slightly taller than you and her arms wrap around your shoulders, one hand cradling the back of your head as you lean into her and wrap your own arms around her back. The warmth of her body against yours is comforting and you almost drown out the sound of the jubilant crowd singing Sweet Caroline because suddenly the only thing that matters is Leila.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into Leila’s shoulder.

“Don’t say sorry,” Leila replies. “You’ll make me cry.”

You want to apologise for that too, but you obey Leila and stay quiet instead, still full of adrenaline from the game and knowing that seeing Leila cry will probably set you off too.

You wish you could freeze this moment, to exist just the two of you in each other’s arms, as you did for those short days in Barcelona a few weeks ago. Leila’s body fits against your own in a way that you’ve never fully appreciated before, but you feel like this is where you belong. She’s just a little bit taller than you, her hand cradling the back of your head, and though it should probably be you comforting her now that you’ve knocked her team out of the tournament, the embrace is as much of a comfort to you.

Though you’d like to remain in Leila’s arms forever, you eventually break apart, but with promises that you’ll talk properly as soon as all the formalities are done and you can get a moment of privacy.

You have to wait until after the huddles, when some of the girls are still doing media duties and you’re back in your tracksuit after a shower, but you get a message from Leila on your phone.

Leila Can I see you? Is there somewhere we can go?

Knowing that your time is limited before both teams have to leave the stadium, you reply straight away.

You Meet me outside the changing rooms?

You pull a hoodie over your head and slip your socked feet into your sliders, then leave the England changing room. Leila emerges from the Spanish dressing room within seconds, and you silently lead her in the opposite direction from the media zone, until you find a deserted hallway deep within the underbelly of the stadium. There, you end up on the floor, side by side with your backs against the wall, thighs pressed together and your fingers intertwined with Leila’s in her lap.

You’re reminded of the only other time you and Leila snuck away after a game - after the second Champions League game at the Emirates. Back then, your actions were fuelled by lust and secrecy. Today, you just want Leila’s company for as long as you’re allowed to have it, and you don’t care about getting caught.

“Are you mad?” you ask Leila, as you trace your thumb over the small tattoo on the back of her hand. “That we knocked you out?”

“Some of the girls are angry,” Leila says with a shrug. “Like Aitana - I think her head might explode. But I’m not mad. Just sad. We wanted to win. We really wanted to win for Alexia.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologise, leaning into Leila’s side and letting your head fall against Leila’s shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” she tells you, her fingers still absently toying with yours.

“It kind of is,” you point out.

“No,” Leila insists, shaking her head firmly. “We have such good players but you need something extra to win a tournament. It feels like there’s always something missing with us. I can’t describe what it is, but I know your team has it.”

You think you know what Leila means. You’ve played in many different teams over the years - youth teams, professional clubs, national sides - and with that you’ve experienced the full range of success levels. The teams you’ve been a part of that have won titles have all had that special something that Leila refers to, a connection between teammates, the two-way trust between the coach and the players, the special spark that allows you all to push through, even when it’s tough. 

You think that the Lionesses have probably demonstrated that tonight. You’ve played in so many teams that would have crumbled as soon as they went one goal down against one of the best sides in Europe, yet you came from behind to earn your place in the semi final. That’s the mark of a team that has something special.

Spain, for whatever reason, doesn’t have that, despite the obvious talent in their squad. You wonder if Leila is more mad at that than she is at you for knocking them out of the tournament.

“You’re gonna win this whole competition, you know that, right?” Leila tells you.

If there’s one thing that Sarina has brought to this England team it’s belief, but while you know this team is more than capable of winning the Euros, you’re still not sure whether it will actually happen.

“You think so?” you ask Leila.

She nods and says, “I hate it. My heart says anybody but England. But I also want it for you. You deserve it.”

“I know it’s the whole point of sport, that only one team can win, and don’t get me wrong, I love winning. But sometimes I hate it when my dreams have to come at the expense of my friends’ dreams.”

“Is that what we are?” Leila asks, and when you lift your head from her shoulder to look at her, she’s smirking back at you. “Friends?”

She gives your hand a performative squeeze, as if to emphasise the beyond-friendliness of your relationship.

You open your mouth to say something witty in response, then close it again. Because the thing is, you and Leila haven’t actually defined what you are. Football rivals with benefits is probably the most appropriate term, because to be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you know Leila well enough to call yourselves friends yet. 

But with Leila looking at you with curiosity in her eyes, eyebrows half raised as if she’s expecting you to confirm the exact nature of your relationship, you don’t know what to say. You could joke, but that would just be deflecting. You could be honest, and tell her that you don’t know what you want but that you like the way that things have been going. Or you could field the adrenaline still coursing through your body from the match into telling Leila that you’d like to maybe explore making things a little more serious when she moves to England soon.

What if she doesn’t want things to be more serious? What if she’s more than happy with just an occasional hookup? More to the point, are you sure that you want anything more than what’s currently going on between you?

The door at the end of the hallway crashes open before you can even begin to vocalise any of the confusion in your mind, and your head jerks up to see that it’s Mapi who is interrupting you, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you sitting together on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

“Shit, my bad,” Mapi says in English, before she switches to Spanish and addresses Leila.

You let your fingers slip out from between Leila’s as they converse and use your hand to play with your hair instead, running your fingertips through the damp strands, until eventually Leila turns back to you and says, “Sorry, I have to go. We’re leaving soon.”

Leila pushes herself to her feet, then offers out a hand to help you to yours. You keep your hand in hers as you follow Mapi down the hallway, only letting it drop when you pass into a more public area where there might be some media. The last thing you need is for pictures of the two of you holding hands to appear on social media before you even get the chance to figure out how to label what Leila is to you.

There are a few more people around, and one of those is your captain Leah, whose frowning face relaxes when she sees you.

“Oh, there you are,” Leah says to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Nobody knew where you were. The bus is leaving soon.”

Leah’s eyes flick curiously between you and the two Spanish players, but if she suspects anything, she doesn’t comment on it.

Mapi leaves you, entering the Spanish dressing room, but Leila stays and you know it’s time to say goodbye. At least this time, with Leila’s move to Manchester imminent, you hope there will be chances to see her again sooner than usual once your own tournament is over.

You migrate towards each other and wrap your arms around Leila as she pulls you against her chest, burying your face against her shoulder. She smells divine, and you try to commit it to memory as you inhale.

“Good luck,” Leila murmurs into your hair, her voice soft enough that only you can hear her. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

“For me or for England?” you can’t help but tease her.

“You,” Leila says, speaking at a normal level again as she pulls out of the embrace. “Fuck England.”

There’s an amused glint in her eyes as she says this, but it quickly vanishes when she realises she’s still standing within earshot of the England captain, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning as Leila raises an apologetic hand in Leah’s direction.

“Sorry,” she says. 

“No need to apologise,” Leah replies diplomatically. “In your position, I’d probably feel that way about us too.”

You think about going in for a goodbye kiss with Leila, but Leah’s presence causes you to hesitate, and before you can make a decision Leila has already said her final goodbye and followed Mapi into the Spanish changing room.

“You alright?” Leah asks, now that it’s just the two of you.

You and Leah know each other incredibly well, playing alongside each other for over a decade, first in the same England youth age groups, then at club level with Arsenal. And while you can tell Leah is curious about the interaction she saw between you and Leila, and that her question isn’t so much asking about your well-being as it is inviting you to open up to her, you also know that she’s not going to push you to tell her anything that you’re not ready to share.

“All good,” you respond.

Leah drapes an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her side as you re-enter the now almost empty England changing room.

“You bossed it tonight,” she tells you. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“You too, captain.”

She smiles at you - the whole England captain thing still hasn’t fully sunk in yet, for either of you, and while you can’t quite believe that the skinny girl with the white blonde hair and the gangly legs who you first met over ten years ago is now leading her country to a European Championship semi final, you know that this is something Leah has always been destined for.

You don’t want to get ahead of yourself but you’re still on such a high from the game that you dare to wonder if Leah is the person who will finally lead England to a major trophy.

“Two games left,” Leah tells you, and you know that she’s reminding herself as much as you. “Two games left to change our lives.”

———

“You’ve got a new girlfriend, I see,” Georgia grins at you as you sit down for breakfast the morning after the Spain game.

“What?” you ask, nearly choking on your granola.

“That’s what Twitter thinks, anyway.”

“Show me.”

Georgia flips her phone around and shows you a tweet that reads “new woso couple alert?” accompanied by a couple of pictures of you and Leila embracing on the pitch after the game. You can feel your cheeks start to heat up and you hope they don’t visibly redden, especially as you feel Leah’s eyes on you, the only person around the table who might be able to guess how close to the truth this fan ‘rumour’ actually is.

“Oh, because I consoled a player after a game now I’m dating her?”

You scroll through some of the comments. There’s nothing too outrageous there - some about the length of the hug, some speculating how or even if you and Leila actually know each other, mixed in with a couple of theories that it’s purely professional and that Manchester City will soon be announcing your return to the club where you spent your formative years thanks to “agent Leila”. It’s not new either. You’re no stranger to being shipped with other footballers, it sort of comes with the territory of being semi-famous in a fanbase of mostly queer women, but never has a rumour about your dating life been so close to the truth.

Suddenly, you’re wondering if you were wrong to hug Leila in public after the game. At the time you followed your instinct, wanting to comfort somebody who means a lot to you. But if you’d waited until you were alone to do that, you wouldn’t have strangers on the internet speculating about the nature of a relationship that you can’t even define yourself yet. Leila was hurting, but was being there for her in that moment really worth potentially outing this to everybody before it even has a label?

Stewing over a decision that you made in the heat of the moment and didn’t think twice about, you return Georgia’s phone.

“It’s just the fans though,” Georgia says with a shrug. “They come up with all sorts of crazy theories sometimes.”

“Yeah, there’s some fans that think I’m dating Ella,” Alessia interjects with a laugh.

“Wait, are you not?” Leah asks, managing to keep her expression deadpan for a few seconds, before it cracks open into a grin.

“Alessia wishes she was dating me,” Ella says.

“I do actually,” Alessia replies, reaching out for one of Ella’s hands as she adds, “El, I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you how I really feel…”

“Shut up!” Ella snatches her hand away and rolls her eyes as the rest of the group descends into a fit of laughter.

With the group’s attention now elsewhere, any opportunity you might have had to finally admit to your friends what’s going on between you and Leila has passed.

There’ll be other times. When the tournament is over, maybe then you’ll tell them. But with a semi final coming up and the possibility of a final too, you can’t deal with any distractions, whether those come from outside opinions on social media or your friends teasing you about the developments in your personal life.

You feel Leah’s eyes on you and you suspect she knows the truth, but you’re grateful for her silence.

———

England makes it past Sweden with relative ease and you can hardly believe that you’ve made it this far. The final at Wembley is all that stands between you and your wildest dream, but it also means you have to face up to the dilemma that’s been on your mind since you knocked Spain out in the quarter finals.

Should you invite Leila to watch the final as your guest?

You haven’t actually talked to Leila since the quarter final. You know that she’s probably been busy getting ready to move to England, meanwhile you’ve been caught in the bubble of the Lionesses camp.

But once the excitement of winning the semi final has passed and you’re back to focusing on training for the final, you realise that you want Leila there to support you. Just as you went to see her play in the Champions League and Copa de la Reina finals, you want her in the crowd as you compete for the European Championship trophy.

But you don’t know if she wants to come, especially after it was your team who knocked hers out of the same competition.

Plus, though Twitter moved on from the hypothetical of you and Leila after a matter of hours when something else became more interesting, you’re sure that a sighting of Leila in the crowd at Wembley, in the England friends and family section no less, will be sure to bring those rumours right back to the attention of the fans.

After a day of deliberating, you eventually decide that it’s a risk you’re happy to take, if it means Leila might be in the crowd to watch you play the most important game of your entire career.

You text her on your way to lunch after a conditioning session in the gym two days before the big final.

You Do you want to come to the final? I can get you a ticket…

And then, you add a second message as an afterthought.

You Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear an England shirt 😉

Leila doesn’t reply immediately

Leila Sorry I move to Manchester this week 😔 but good luck!

You’re disappointed, but you knew this was a likely outcome. Besides, it’s probably for the best. If Leila had accepted the offer, not only would you have had to explain everything to your teammates, but you’d probably have ended up introducing Leila to your entire family too, which sounds like way too much for somebody who isn’t even officially your girlfriend.

You No problem! Good luck with the move!

———

Leila was right - this England team does have something special.

It hits you, strangely enough, not when the final whistle blows nor when Leah lifts the trophy and a shower of confetti rains down over you, but when you crash Sarina’s post-final press conference with the rest of the team. It’s so ridiculous, your socked feet slipping against the floor, Mary shimmying her hips as she dances on the tables, two dozen journalists watching on in amused disbelief, but there’s no group of people you’d rather have done the last month and a half with. And the medal around your neck, hanging heavy with the sheer importance of what you’ve just achieved, is a permanent reminder of the best summer of your life.

You return to the dressing room, where an England-branded bucket hat somehow finds its way onto your head, and sit down in your cubby to check your phone. Messages have been flying in since full time - friends, family, even distant acquaintances you haven’t seen in over a decade, all wanting to congratulate you on the win. But there’s only one person you’ve been waiting to hear from, and you feel giddy when you see her name in the list of notifications.

Leila Congrats campeonaaaa! I told you that you were gonna win 😋

She’s accompanied the message with a picture, a selfie in which she’s wearing the England shirt emblazoned with your number that you traded for hers during the Arnold Clark Cup. 

You take a selfie to send back, keeping the ridiculous hat on your head and lifting up your medal to catch it between your teeth. You grin as you snap the photo and send it to Leila.

Almost as soon as you send it, your phone starts ringing with an incoming FaceTime. You’ve ignored a few calls since you won, overwhelmed by the number of people trying to congratulate you already, but when you see Leila’s name, you accept immediately.

“Hey,” you say, when Leila’s face appears on the screen of your phone.

“Nice hat,” she greets you, stifling a laugh.

You raise your eyebrows, then say, “Sexy, huh?”

Leila gives you an incredulous look, before she says, “Show me your medal then.”

The dressing room is already noisy, but somebody turns the speaker up and it’s almost impossible to hear Leila, so you make your way out of the central changing area and towards the showers, where it’s slightly quieter, before lifting the medal so that it’s in the frame of your front-facing camera.

“Does it suit me?” you ask, shooting her a teasing smile.

“I like it,” Leila tells you. “Winning is very sexy.”

You open your mouth to flirt back, but you’re interrupted by a shout from a few metres away. When you glance up, Leah has emerged from round the corner, a half empty bottle of champagne clutched in one of her hands.

“Oi!” she cries out. “Come and dance with us.”

“Two minutes,” you say to Leah.

Leah’s eyes flit between your face and the phone in your hand, and realisation washes over her face, perhaps remembering the interactions she saw between you and Leila after you played against each other last week.

“Oh!” she says, eyes wide. “Take your time!”

“I’ll be there in a second,” you promise Leah, before turning back to your phone.

“Go and celebrate,” Leila urges you. 

“I wish I was celebrating with you,” you admit.

“Sorry,” Leila says with a grimace.

“No!” you interject. “I’m not blaming you for not being here! How did the move go?”

“It was good,” Leila shrugs. “The apartment is nice but I need to go to IKEA to get some furniture.”

“Maybe I can come and visit when you’ve settled in?” you suggest optimistically.

“Okay, but you lose the hat,” Leila tells you, and it’s more of an order than a suggestion.

A thought pops into your brain, probably fuelled the bottle of beer you just downed on top of a shit ton of adrenaline from the match, and you cheekily ask, “What if I’m wearing just the hat?”

“No,” Leila warns you firmly, though she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Fine,” you concede.

“Go,” Leila tells you. “I don’t want to stop you celebrating.”

“Okay,” you say, trying to draw out the goodbye as long as you can. “But I’ll see you soon, right?”

“See you soon, champion.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi imagine #leila ouahabi x reader #dirty little secret

[skipper1331]

Fighting // Alessia Russo

The day started off fine.

Like she always did, Alessia woke up before you.

Most of the time it was an hour before the alarm went off but she didn‘t leave the bed until. She would lay in bed and admire you. Her hand would scratch your back or stomach (depending on the position you were in) so softly while she pressed feathery kisses on top of your head and sometimes she would mumble phrases like 'you’re so pretty, my girl' or 'i‘m so lucky to be with you'.

When the alarm went off she let it ring 2 minutes or so, so you could start to wake up. After she turned it off, of course your eyes still closed, she started to press kisses to each of your cheeks, to your forehead, chin, temple and the corner of your mouth. The moment she felt your smile she knew you were present. "Good morning, my pretty pretty girl" she whispered. Your smile only grew at the pet name yet still too tired to respond. "You need to get up, so we can get ready for todays derby, baby." this time you hummed as reply. Alessia made her way to the bathroom to start her routine while you were still sitting in the bed with no energy to move. It was too early. "babygirl, you need get up otherwise we‘ll be late."

"Need kisses" you stated sleepy.

Alessia exited the ensuite bathroom again, chuckling. She pecked your lips sweetly but it wasn‘t enough. As a respond you grumbled. You wanted a real kiss. Another peck was pressed to your lips. "Lessi" you whined. You pouted at her while giving her your best puppy dog eyes. You knew she could never resist them. It made her weak (yet she always was when she was around you). Finally giving in, she gave you the good morning kiss you deserved, knocking the air out of your lungs.

The game ended in a 1-1 draw. Unfortunately, you didn‘t had the chance to talk to your former Barcelona teammate Leila before the game so you decided to approach the city player after. Your transfer to united was a few years back while Leilas to city was just recently. Leila and you had been great friends at barcelona but as life goes on you lost contact. From time to time the two of you called each other but it wasn‘t the same. When you heard the news that Leila would come to Manchester you were excited. You knew Leila didn‘t get enough playing-time at Barca which made you sad considered she was a great left back. You owe Leila a lot: she made you feel welcome in Spain, she spent hours of teaching you spanish and supported you even when you had your doubts. So the only right thing to do was to offer her the same opportunities. Due a busy schedule you hadn‘t seen her since her arrival, so the derby was the first time in years (despite the euros) where you saw her. "Leila!" you shouted to get her attention. You ran up to her and jumped on her. She easily caught you. "¿Cómo estás?" (how are you) she asked. "Muy bien, ¿y tú? (really good, and you?). The two of you talked about how City was treating her, If she liked manchester so far and so on. It was a talk about everything and nothing and you must admit it was really nice to catch up with the spaniard. Despite the fact that you hadn‘t seen each other for a long time, it was as If the other person was never away. The dynamic between you two was like it was back in Spain.

As you entered the changing room Alessia was nowhere to be seen, her cubby empty. "El, have you seen Lessi?" you asked her best friend. "Nah" Not giving it too much thought, you showered and changed into normal clothes. Maybe she was already at your car, you thought. So you grabbed your bag and walked to the car where in fact Alessia was already sitting in the drivers seat. "Didn‘t know you could be this fast" you joked referring to the time it took her to shower and get changed while you were still on the pitch talking to Leila. She mumbled something but you were to occupied with talking about the match that you didn‘t notice it. What you also didn‘t notice was that Alessia was awfully quiet and kept her hand to herself. Normally she would have her hand on your thigh or would hold your hand.

At home, she still hadn‘t said a word. When she started to cook something you hugged her taller figure from behind with your chin resting on her shoulder "what are we gonna eat tonight?" you asked. You couldn’t tell what she wanted to cook with only a few ingredients on the kitchen counter. "I‘m making myself a pizza. Don‘t know what you‘re gonna eat." she huffed while wiggling out of your embrace. "What?" -

"You heard me" If you haven‘t noticed earlier that she was mad, you did now. And if you think back: she didn‘t hold your hand in the car, didn‘t talk to you either and certainly didn‘t kiss you. She was mad at you. "Are you mad at me?" you asked suprised as if it wasn‘t obvious. "I don‘t know. You tell me." she snapped. starting to pack away the ingredients. She was not in the mood for pizza anymore. "Lessi?" you grabbed her arm, stopping her in her movement. "Don‘t touch me!" instantly she pushed your hand away and walked out of the kitchen. You were taken aback, Alessia always wanted to feel your touch even If it‘s only your pinkies linking. "I don‘t understand" you followed her. "Of course you don‘t" an ironic laugh escaped her mouth. You were starting to get angry, too. Why didn‘t she just say what her problem was? "Why are you so mad at me?" you shouted. Enough was enough. You wanted - no, you had to know what you did wrong. "Why don‘t you ask Leila?! Maybe she gets all your attention. Oh wait- She already has!" she yelled. Now you understood; Alessia was jealous.

Angrily, she marched towards your bedroom. Again, you followed her but a few steps behind. Before you could enter your shared bedroom she slammed the door in your face. The door was slammed with so much force that even the picture frame fell off the shelf. Alessia heard the glass shattering and shortly afterwards your cursing. Immediately she opened the door, only to see you in a squat position trying to clean the floor. Her eyes looking at your bleeding hand. Something in her flipped at the sight of you because the second she saw blood on you her anger washed away and was replaced with worry. She squatted down, picked you up and carried you bridal style to the bathroom. "Lessi-" she shushed you with her finger on your lips. Frantically, she searched for the first aid kit. "You don‘t need to do this" you said in a low voice, looking at the floor. "What? Of course I do, you’re my girl" with the first aid kit now lying next to you, she started off with cleaning the wound. You flinched a few times and each time Alessia would stop. She would look into your eyes, search for consent to continue and when you nod, she would give you a soft kiss to your forehead. Everything was done quietly. Both of you wanted to say something but remained silent. As Alessia finished to put the bandage around your hand, your head fell onto her chest. The exhaustion of the game and your fighting visible. "I‘m sorry" you both started, a small laugh coming from the Italian and you. With your head off her chest "may I?" a nod came as respond "I‘m sorry. I didn‘t mean to upset you. I know i talked to Leila for a while. I didn't get a chance to talk to her before and I owe her so much. I want to give it back to her, even if she's not playing with us." you apologized and explained. You have always thought that it was important to give an explanation for your actions so that the other person knew that you‘re serious about your apology. "And thank you for the" you wiggled with your injured hand "you didn’t have to do that. I shouldn‘t have followed you when i knew that you‘re angry. I‘m sorry." Everything you said was nothing but the truth. You hated it when Alessia and you fight. But luckily, it rarely happened. And even If; you're human beings, you're not perfect. Sometimes you get into a fight and argue but that's normal. No relationship is perfect. The trick is to communicate and express your feelings to reconcile.

Alessia pressed a long kiss to your forehead. "I‘m sorry too. I didn't mind you talking to Leila. I know she means a lot to you. It bothered me that once the game was finished, you didn't give me a high give or acknowledged me at all, even though we always do our special handshake. Then the fans talked about your interaction and it made me upset because of the rumours of you two being a couple. They got into my head." During her explanation her eyes never left yours, her cheeks red. She felt slightly embarrassed because she exposed her feelings.

Before your relationship Alessia didn‘t talk about her feelings, she bottled them inside of her and it took you some time to break her walls down and make it clear that her feelings are valuable. "I‘m sorry about your hand… that i caused it." you took her hands in yours (careful not hurt your wounded hand more) and kissed each finger tip. "It wasn‘t your fault" you whispered as you switched to her other hand. "I love you and I am proud of you" her heart melted at your words. To hear that you‘re proud her made her fall in love with you all over again while the three little words made her go feral. "Stop it, you silly" Alessia giggled.

The italian could never take compliments especially when they came from you.

As your hand wandered to her neck your lips pressed against the blonde‘s. A kiss that was so soft and loving that it meant more than words ever could. "Pizza?" you asked smiling after breaking away. "Yes!", peppering kisses to your lips. "Lets go" with an ease she picked you up and carried you into the kitchen.

It didn‘t matter what happened earlier, it happened and it‘s okay. This is life. There are ups and down.

The moment you both fell for each other (even when Alessia literally fell for you) you agreed to the risk of arguing, disagreeing and having problems. As long as you reconcile and fight for each other, everything will turn out fine.

It‘s Alessia and Y/N, like it‘s always been.

The two of you against the world.

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If you have requests or anything, feel free to send them :)

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#woso fanfics #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso #woso x reader #man utd women #arsenal wfc #lionesses #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader

[futbol16]

Those Three Letters • Alexia Putellas

Not sure how good this turned out to be, but I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Request: "In the trailer of Alexias documentary they say that Alexia turned off her phone after the injury. Can you write a story about reader and Alexia thats set during that time. Eventually reader is able to get a hold of Alexia maybe showing up to her appartement. Taking care of Alexia, making sure that she and Nala are okay, updating Alexias family and taking her to her apointments. Reader being her shoulder to cry on and pick Alexia up get a bit of faith back into her and being able to convince Alexia that she can be a great capitana from the sidelines also."

Part 2 You Can

Word count: 1,6k

Finishing up the late training session, you slipped on your sneakers and a hoodie and waved bye to the girls in the locker room.

As you walk down the hallway you fish your phone out from your right pocket, looking up at the last second before almost colliding with a body. You smile up at your captain.

“Gonna go talk to your girl?” Leah smiles down at you sweetly.

“Yeah, yeah. Schedules have been busy so I’m hoping to catch her.” you lightly blush at the thought of your girlfriend.

“Well good luck with that Y/N/N!”

“Thank you, goodnight Leah!” you wave her goodbye, your thumb already searching through your contacts before pressing on one.

You hold the phone to your ear as you walk to your room with a soft smile, but frown when no one picks up. You knew Alexia was off from training as well by now and the two of you had planned on talking tonight.

You call again, and again, and when she doesn’t pick up again, and again, you start to get worried. Tossing your phone onto your bed you decide to get ready for the evening instead, hoping that she’d at least message you to tell you what was up. 

Your phone goes off suddenly, the ringtone breaking you out of your staring contest with yourself in the mirror. Your toothbrush is hanging out of your mouth as you race for your phone,  answering it with a confused face when you realize it’s Mapi calling.

“Hey Mapi, what’s up?”

“Y/N, hola, hey, hi so something happened and Ale isn’t okay and I don’t know what to do and I need your help!” she rushes out and you go to calm her down before your ears perk up.

“Ale’s in trouble?” you ask almost breathlessly.

The most intense part of the Euro’s was barely in a week, everyone was excited for it and you knew Alexia had been waiting for this. To hear that something might not allow her to play…you feared the worst.

“What is it, María, what happened?”

“ACL” God, those three letters that you feared so much, one of the most dreaded injuries, especially in women’s football. That never meant anything good, this was serious.

“Y/N, I need you to come down here. I don’t know what’s going on with her, she hasn’t been answering any of us in the past two days. We were only told now what happened to her.”

That made sense, you had the first Match of the Euro’s yesterday and although the two of you would always wish each other good luck, you didn’t dwell on the absence of a message from her for too long. You knew the both of you were very busy people and she’d try to catch up later.

But now as you stand in the middle of the room, eyes wide, breath still and your toothpaste almost dripping down your chin you realize just how stupid that excuse sounded.

Ending the call with Mapi, you get yourself to look presentable before racing down to Sarina’s office.

Once you reach the door, you hastily knock on the wood until you’re let in.

“Hey coach, sorry, I really need to talk to you.” you tell her all that you knew and she eventually agrees to let you go, though with a warning that you wouldn’t play the full 90 minutes against Norway since you’d be missing a few training days.

By the time you get to the airport it’s already 8pm, you’d land in Barcelona at around midnight.

You keep Mapi updated and although you had told her you could take a taxi, she insisted on picking up her best friend from the airport.

When Mapi’s car rolls up in front of Alexia’s apartment it is well into the night, but knowing the Barcelona captain she was still going to be up no matter how tired she was after the day of her surgery.

You hated that you hadn’t been there for her when she had to go through such a thing, but you knew she needed you now more than ever and you were going to be there no matter what, even if it meant maybe missing the match against Norway.

You let yourself into her apartment, it’s dark but you can make out the silhouette of Nala before she jumps into your arms. You give her a little love before getting her something to eat, you weren’t sure how well Alexia had been taking care of herself and her dog right now.

As you walk further into the home you let your backpack - the only thing you had brought onto the plane with you - slide down your shoulder and land next to the wall of the living room.

That’s when you spot her, the warm color of the lamp lighting up the side of her face as she’s slumped over on the couch, her leg propped up. You note the deep frown she has, the creases in her forehead and the fact that she hadn’t noticed someone entering her apartment. It all worried you even more.

You move in front of her and squat down to be on her level before you place a careful hand to the side of her face. Cupping her cheek you turn her head towards you and wait for her eyes to focus on you, the deep glare slowly vanishing as she stares into your eyes.

“Alexia, bebé.” you whisper out as your thumb slowly strokes over her cheek bone. That’s all it takes for her as she breaks, a painful sob leaving her lips. You pull her into you, mindful of her leg and hold her close as she cries into your neck.

You fight back your own tears, ultimately failing, and repeatedly kiss her shoulder as you mutter words of comfort into her ear. She settles eventually and pulls back from you, though she doesn’t go far, desperate to still be close to you. 

“I wanted to play so bad.” 

“I know, I know, love. “ you say as you wipe away the few tears rolling down her cheek. “It won’t be long Ale, you’re strong, you know this. And I’ll be here, yeah? We’ll do it together.” you tell her honestly, kissing her cheek when she gives you a tiny smile. 

“Gracias, mi amor. Gracias, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” she pulls you in again and you hug her back tightly. You help her get ready for the night, gently washing the day off her body and holding her close when she breaks down again.

You kiss her injured knee gently and tuck her into bed. It’s the early hours of the morning when you manage to get her to sleep and you slowly slip out from under the covers. You watch as she cuddles into your pillow and you move her hair out of her face before making your way out the bedroom door.

Eli is the first person you call, Alexia’s mom, and she immediately picks up the phone despite the sun barely being up. You fill her in on the news and promise her to take care of her daughter as you ask her to come around for the next day.

Alexia would need her family close to her, especially once you’d have to go back to England for the Euro’s. 

You take her to her appointments during the next few days and help out her family who have come around Alexia’s place everyday. It’s four days later that you pack your bag again, knowing you’d have to get on the earliest flight possible.

You’re about to walk to Alexia’s room when her sister pulls you aside and into a hug. You hug back the younger brunette fiercely, knowing that her sister’s injury and mood had been hard on her emotionally as well.

“She’s gonna need you more than us, you know.” she whispers to you.

“What?” you pull back from the hug, confused as to what she meant.

“My sister, she’s going to need you more than anyone Y/N.” you’re about to shake your head at her words but she interrupts you. “You’re her person, she’ll want you by her side, more than me or Mama.”

“I’ll do my best to be there for her.” you nod at Alba.

“You already have.” she answers you with a smile before kissing your cheek and nudging you towards her sister’s bedroom.

Walking through the doorway Alexia is sitting on the edge of her bed, looking up at you with big eyes. You cup her cheeks, her arms circling around your waist as she rests her chin on your stomach.

“I have to go amor.” you tell her quietly, hating that you had to leave her when she was hurt, but you knew you had to get back to England if you wanted to play in the tournament.

“Sí, mi amor. I know.” she lets out a sigh. Her arms slowly reach up and she tugs you down to her level, pulling you into a kiss.

You kiss her back softly, your thumb stroking her jaw as she holds you impossibly close.

“I’ll be back, love, and you’ll be back on that football pitch sooner than you think.” You tell her, confident in her rehab and her strength.

"And until then you’ll be the best Capitana for the team, even if it’s from the stands.” She nods at you, giving you a gentle smile and kissing you one last time before you’d have to leave for the airport.

You knew this would be a hard and long journey for her, but Alexia also knew that with you by her side she could do this.

You and her, together.

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #futbol16

[photmath]

Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Aurèle

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (18+), MDNI, some angst, kissing, fluff

Note: Oh, these two, always up to no good.

Aurie had come home quietly, the manila folder had burned an imprint into the passenger seat of her car. She wasn’t sure if Kylian was home but for what it was worth, she hoped so. She didn’t want to go into the night without talking, and she knew he wasn’t going to miss his scheduled rehab session, despite them both being thirty minutes late. She hadn’t even rushed to leave the nursing home when she realized her and Camille spent too long talking.

As she walked into an empty house, she placed the manila folder behind a set of planted pots. Was there a potential million euro check casually sitting on a dresser not hidden well? Yes. But she could care less for the moment being.

She explained to Camille everything that happened in the car, at the tennis match—everything. She told her how intoxicating it was to feel so carefree despite Kylian sitting next to her. She showed her the pictures of her with Serena and Naomi, her sister absolutely elated for Aurie to have experienced such unique opportunities.

Aurie also showed her the message from their mom, told her about the lecture she got from her in the rehab room, and the lengthy conversation afterward with Kylian where she explained to him everything that happened.

Although Camille was happy for her and advised her for hours at the nursing home, she also had to remind Aurie of what could transgress because of Aurie now being pictured on social media with Kylian. And it happened fast. They already knew her first name and her social media accounts. Someone had spread a rumor that she was Kylian’s manager and despite it being false, she was thankful that it distracted them from the truth for the time being.

It scared Aurie, but she had her own priorities to focus on before she added something else to her already heavy plate, and as long as her socials were private, she was calm.

That was until the front door opened and Bleu’s wagging tail weaved through the kitchen to greet the person home. Aurie perks her head up at Kylian, clad in black dress pants and a long-sleeve, white button-up shirt. The cuffs were folded up to the middle of his forearm and the first few buttons were undone, the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

If things weren’t so tense, she’d tell him how handsome he looked.

“Hi, chérie,” he gives her a warm smile.

She forces a thin-lined smile, “Hi, Ky.”

He walks over towards her, looking at the leftovers of the soup he made her, “You haven’t eaten?”

“No, have you?”

“Mm-hmm,” he responds, pulling his tie off of him and curling it up in his hand. He watches her diligently as she warms up a bowl, standing an arm’s length in front of her. Kylian wants her to ask him what he had for dinner—or anything for that matter—but she doesn’t.

Instead, she moves around him and takes her bowl to the dining room table. He sighs softly, following her and sits in the front chair.

“We have a session tonight, right?”

“Was supposed to start thirty minutes ago.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” he questions, his hands folding in his laps. “I’m sorry for being late.”

Aurie resists the urge to scrunch up her face or say something back. It wasn’t because he was late, she had been late as well and to hold that over his head would make her a hypocrite.

Both of them grow silently impatient with the other as neither speak.

Kylian grinds his teeth together, “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to eat.”

Pursing his lips once more, he proceeds, “We both have things to say, so do you want to talk after you eat, during rehab?”

“Sure.”

Kylian gets up from his seat and goes upstairs to change into a different set of clothes. Throwing his tie across the room, he plops down on the bed with a groan. He feels the end of the bed shift in weight and he rolls his eyes as Maple’s gray fur comes into contact with him. She was purring loudly, bumping her head into his hand until he gave up and stroked her head.

“I don’t get her sometimes,” he whispers to her. Her purrs only get louder as he continues talking, “I’m usually so good at reading her mind, but I can’t right now.”

Maple lets out a meow and Kylian sits up, giving her one last pet before standing up and changing out of his clothes. He takes his time, hoping Aurie doesn’t feel rushed to finish eating before he finally heads downstairs. She wasn’t at the dining table, so he walks towards the rehab room where he sees her flipping through a textbook.

“Oof, you brought that out,” he chuckles, trying to lighten up the mood.

Aurie only gives him a curt smile, a coarse laugh escaping out of her, “Just for one exercise.”

As she finally set up the bicycle with a barely-there resistance, instructing him to not go past a certain number of revolutions per minute, were they finally talking.

Kylian started first: “I disliked how you handled my heat exhaustion.”

“What did you dislike about it?” she asked, watching the bike stat’s monitor.

“It was a lot, Aurie. You didn’t tell me what was going on before you did anything. You usually do.”

“What do you even remember about that?”

“I remember you stripping my clothes off—”

“Lower your speed,” she instructs.

“—I would have at least liked to have been told why you were doing what. I mean come on, in front of Paul and Mac.”

Aurie sighs, having to listen to him talk and monitor his speed at the same became difficult. She was listening and made sure not to interrupt him, but it was challenging when she wanted to yell back despite feeling so tired. This was the latest they had ever done rehab, a whole hour later yet it felt much later. She still needed to shower afterward before bed.

“So?” Kylian tuts, “Why did you do it?”

She crosses her arms, looking at him finally and his expression suddenly softens from her red-brimmed eyes. Immediately concerned, he swallows as her shoulders slack. He regrets his bratty attitude seconds prior.

“Your heart rate was too fast at the time. You’re an easily-queasy person, so if I were to tell you in that moment that you could have a heat stroke, you would’ve panicked and caused one yourself just from panicking. I needed to act fast, and one of the best ways to do so is by submerging your unclothed body in ice cold water. Given that we were not near a bathtub, I chose to drench you with water at that moment.”

Kylian stops pedaling, his arms uncrossing and falling against his waist, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry that I let you get to that point,” Aurie whispers. “I should’ve noticed that you were drinking so much water and that your skin was clammy and cold. I was distracted with my own thoughts…not focusing on you.”

Kylian shakes his head, standing up and stepping towards her, “Wait, no, Aurie. No you aren’t allowed to blame yourself. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize what was happening was serious.”

“Had I not been—”

“No,” Kylian cradles Aurie’s face in his hands, tugging her closer to him. “I was short-tempered at the time, irritated, and hot. I didn’t mean to come in the way of you doing your job.”

Aurie peels his hands away from her, “But you have! You have come in the way of my job. Every single day, I’m distracted by you. By your manners, the way you care so much, the way you take care of me. I mean Kylian, we were supposed to be out of the limelight, away from the cameras, and here I am wanting to bring you to the Roland Garros. What happened to the rules we had in the beginning? They’re gone. We’ve both come so lenient and now look at us doing your rehab so late.”

Kylian turns towards her, “We both made those decisions though, Aurie.”

“And something could have seriously happened to you.”

“But nothing did because you were right there. I might’ve been unwilling, but you were going to do what you needed to do anyway, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” she quiets down.

“I had the signs, sure, but you said it yourself sometimes it can just happen. I haven’t been in the sun for a while, so maybe that’s why it happened.”

Aurie frowns, “You’re only proving everything I should’ve seen.”

Kylian steps towards her as she steps back, “No. Stop bringing yourself down. I’m not going to let you do that, and it doesn’t seem like you want to be here all night.”

Aurie leans against the treatment table, folding her arms. She didn’t do anything wrong, but staring at Kylian wasn’t enough to convince her. The increased inflammation of his calf he had because he had to drive her to the hospital mocked her. His heat exhaustion. Their first encounter with Lucette. There were so many little things now coming to light because of her mishaps.

Was everything out of her control? There was nothing she could grasp, nothing she could hold onto and define that it wasn’t going to throw a curveball at her. That there would be no tricks.

Her pets? They’d be there. The Summer Gala? Well, that was up to her. And Kylian? He was the fastest spinning ball there was.

Kylian shifts his weight on his leg, worried from her blank expression, “Aurie?”

She shakes her head, “Come on, let’s finish this up.”

If there was one thing she was going to attempt to control right now, it was going to be his leg and damn the time it was.

Forget the money, forget Kylian going against her wishes to not make a donation. She would express her concerns in the morning when they were both well rested because she couldn’t continue looking at him and seeing him this way. Especially when he wasn’t deserving of the entire wrath.

Kylian, on the other hand, fought visibly expressing his annoyance at her changing the conversation. He could tell there were still questionable thoughts behind her tear-stricken eyes. He knew if he pestered, she’d say it was nothing.

“Okay,” he mutters, hopping back onto the bike.

That was the last bit of conversation they had, moving along the night in silence as Aurie told him what to do next, her hands guiding his leg and hip every now and then. Her touch still burned his skin, and it was different to not have a flowing conversation through the session.

But they were tired. The day had been way too long for the both of them.

After his shower, he checked his phone for any missed calls from his dad and he was unsurprised to see both of his parents had called him and texted him. They wanted to start his discussions of a transfer, still gunning for a done deal before the July preseason matches began.

Walking upstairs, he tiptoed slowly past Aurie’s door, resisting the urge to look through her ajar door. The light from her lamp crept into the hallway. He sighed and turned around, peeking through the gap to see her laid across her bed. He stepped closer to her room and entered the room to turn off the lamp.

She looked tired, evident bags underneath her eyes as she stirred. He bent down to kiss her forehead briefly before turning towards the lamp. Little trinkets of hers surrounded it, he wished he could ponder their significance, but Aurie stirred again. He turned off the lamp and used the light from his phone to go back to his bedroom.

---

Aurie woke up to the pittering pattering of rain, but also Bleu’s jingling collar as he went back and forth in the corridor. Kylian shushed him, earning a whine from Bleu as he raced him down the stairs.

She groaned, flipping over and throwing the blanket over her head. She wanted more sleep and coffee at the same time. She begrudgingly sighed, getting up and starting her day by making her bed and brushing her teeth.

Going downstairs, she sees Kylian with her red umbrella through the backyard door throwing a frisbee away from Bleu as he takes off, catching it and then running back towards Kylian. She starts the kettle and goes outside, leaning against the door as Kylian flings the frisbee once more.

She twists her face, “What are you wearing?”

He looked ridiculous. Shirtless, black shorts with socks stretched to his knees, and of course chunky black shoes that looked abruptly slipped into. Kylian turns around, a wide smile adorning his face, “Good morning, chérie.”

“You look like a mess.”

“He wanted to play.”

“So you found time to put on socks but no shirt?”

He shrugs, “Priorities.”

Aurie rolls her eyes, a smile ghosting her lips as Kylian walks towards her. Her eyes stay on his, fighting every urge to glance down at his chest.

He smirks, “How are you?”

“I still feel tired.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you a coffee?”

“I have the kettle on right now, no need.”

He nods slowly, glancing at Bleu running back towards them, “He jumped on my bed, you know?”

“I told you,” she shrugs. “They’re a lot.”

“I didn’t mind it, but he scared me.”

“And Maple? She wasn’t with me last night.”

He rolls his eyes, “She slept at my feet.”

Aurie snickers, Kylian’s head snapping towards her lips. He hadn’t heard a version of a laugh in hours and it warmed his heart. He blushed as she spoke, the words going in one ear and out the other.

Bleu nudges his thigh with the frisbee and he throws it once more, Aurie’s eyes not leaving the contracting muscles of his shoulders as he swung it. A few water droplets had the pleasure of hugging his skin as they trailed down his back.

She shudders, “I’m going to go make my coffee.”

“Okay.”

She goes inside, a bit jittery as she makes her cup. Her eyes land on the corner of her manila folder as she takes a sip. One more talk, and then finally their troubles could be pushed past behind them.

Kylian comes inside, a coy smile dancing across his face as he sees Aurie. His excitement is contagious, earning a nervous giggle from her all of sudden. She wants to roll her eyes at herself for having no self-control, but Kylian looked breathtaking: his eyebrows perked up in delight, strong shoulders still glaring at her, and the awful excuse of shorts she had ever laid eyes on. They were short and tight with only a finger-length room for him to breathe in.

She doesn’t even have to remind him to wipe Bleu’s paws, he takes the towel and does it himself before turning around to face her.

“You’re staring, Aurie,” Kylian winks as Aurie looks at him. She shakes her hand, turning around to hide the mess of her flustered state.

“Go put on a shirt.”

He laughs, following her command and going upstairs. She wishes the coffee were hotter, more bitter, so that her mind wouldn’t be so focused on how his chest caved with each breath he took.

Goodness.

Kylian’s thumping footsteps make her glance at him as he nears, now in a navy zip-up that exposes more chest than usual. There was no undershirt underneath—of course. His eyes, however, are focused on something else: the folder. Eyebrows furrowing, he grabs it, turning it over to see if it’s the exact one he gave Angie yesterday.

“Can we talk about that?” Aurie suggests.

He purses his lips, “How did you know?” His sullen, hooded eyes peer up at her with guilt. The last thing he wanted was for Aurie to find out the check was donated by him, knowing that she was persistent about not wanting his money.

“They gave it to me,” she shrugs, walking towards him. “Timing was just a bit odd, hmm? And I know none of the residents have families that are wealthy enough to easily donate that kind of money.”

“You don’t know that.”

She sets down her coffee, crossing her arms, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Kylian wants to scoff, but the way Aurie tried to appear unwavering humored him. Her hip was jutted out to one side, the slight furrow of her eyebrows, and lips pressed so tightly that it almost looked like a forced smile.

“I don’t want your money, Ky,” she says softly, loosening the firmness of her arms. Her sudden change in demeanor makes Kylian step towards her, face riddled with concern.

“Hey,” he grabs onto her elbow to soothe her defeated state.

“No, I’m serious,” she bumps his hand away, “I know the funds were tight and that we didn’t have enough, but seriously, a million is too much.”

“It’s a donation for a reason, Aurie, you were never supposed to grab ahold of the envelope anyway.”

“But I did.”

He smacks his lips, “Think of this as your birthday present—I didn’t get you anything, so here is the gift.”

“I can’t accept that.”

“It’s the nursery’s money.”

“In my name?”

He groans, suddenly bursting into a smile, “I can’t believe you’re being like this right now.”

Aurie’s taken aback by his nonchalant expression, “Why are you giggling? This isn’t funny. I don’t want you to look at this nursing home like it’s some horrid, underfunded place. It’s not.”

“I never said that,” he says. “However, a monetary donation wouldn’t hurt. New equipment, new bedding, new decorations. Medications—”

“Now you make me sound like a spoiled brat.”

He shrugs, dipping his head lower to hers as he laughs, “I never said that either.” His nose brushes up against her cheek as he hands her back the envelope. Aurie has to wrap her hand around his neck or else she’d be too off balance.

“I know what you’re doing,” she gently pushes him back as he chuckles, standing up. She grabs a hold of the back of his neck more firmly, changing her mind. She sets the envelope back onto the dresser and then presses her front against his waist.

He glances down at her lips with a bashful smile. Although everything told Aurie to refuse the check because of its large sum, she knew she could distribute the rest of the difference to different departments within the home. Some of the beds did need an upgrade and they could never have too much of a savings. Kylian’s money wasn’t out of pity and it would be selfish to decline something that could help others. She didn’t want to argue anymore and try to negotiate something that was meant to be a donation; Angie shouldn’t have given her the envelope in the first place but she wasn’t upset.

Before Kylian kisses her, she reels back, “What if we did half of the million?”

He shakes his head, the smile and gaze never leaving, “No.”

“Three-quarters?”

“No. Now kiss me, damn it,” he groans hoarsely, as if he was going through withdrawals from not being able to touch her the past hours. It hadn’t even been a full day.

“Wait,” she urges, her thumb pressing into his jaw to get him to look up at her. “I’m sorry for drawing this out. I didn’t mean to, and if I wasn’t so tired last night, we could’ve resolved it all.”

“It’s okay, it was late,” he assures. He watches the way she breaks eye contact with him and momentarily focuses on the backyard door in her line of view. “What’s wrong?”

Aurie deflates, pressing onto her tippy toes to close the space between them and bury her head into the crevice of his shoulder. He feels her fist the cotton of his jacket on his backside, so he wraps his arms more snug around her waist and back. He lays gentle kisses on her shoulder and neck to comfort her.

“I’m being too hard on myself, aren’t I?” she asks meekly.

He wants to cradle her to the living room couch to hold her properly, but he doesn’t make the move. Instead, he plants the top of his head on hers, caressing her back, “You are, belle.”

“I have a bad habit of self-sabotaging things.”

He shakes his head, her wincing at his strong jaw rubbing against her. He chuckles, “Sorry—I don’t think that’s what you are doing now. I think you’re focusing on everything that’s going wrong and missing what has gone right. Setbacks happen. No matter how much we prep to prevent them or try to do everything to avoid them, they happen. All of your cards happened to land at the same time that you haven’t had time to deal with them. It’s okay, alright? We accept it and move on, yeah?”

She nods, picking up her head, “Why couldn’t you give me that talk a couple of days ago?”

He kisses her forehead, “You’re strong regardless. With or without what I say.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Kiss?” He sees the glint of mischief in her eye before he can grip her shirt tighter, and within an instant, she pushes from out of his arms and takes off running towards the living room. Her laugh echoes across the downstairs. “Aurie, that isn’t fair!”

He scurries behind her, walking quietly around the wall and sees Aurie slipping into the library. He laughs, picking up his pace, “My calf is still injured!”

“Don’t run,” she stops to look at him. He smiles, opening his arms wider now that she’s cornered into one room.

“I’m a little insulted, you know. Running away from me like that?” He raises his eyebrows to feign hurt as she rolls her eyes, bouncing on her heels. He leans against the column of the wall, his hand resting against the top arch, “Well, you can’t run.”

Aurie sighs, skidding towards him. It was hot. The way he raised his arm against the edge, a part of his hip exposed underneath his jacket. She could admit defeat and now was one of them.

She rises to the ball of her feet as Kylian’s dimples deepen with anticipation. She kisses him softly, the both of them sighing into it as if they had been underwater for too long and were now just getting a breath of fresh air.

Her hands find exactly what they’re seeking: his hips. He grunts at the sudden warm contact, not expecting her touch. It was hesitant, almost tickling him at how slowly she’s pressing her entire palm on him. His lips tug into a smile as he leans down towards her.

Aurie gains the encouragement to draw his hips closer to her and Kylian groans at the feel of their bodies pressing against one another. Aurie’s fingernails pressing into his sides almost make him lose his footing. Tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth, Kylian takes a hold of her face with a little more urgency. Aurie’s teasing hands continue, her pinky unknowingly slipping underneath the hemline of his shorts.

He pulls back, mouth agape as he opens his eyes to meet Aurie’s cheeky ones. He laughs nervously, eyelids batting down, suddenly feeling hot in the jacket he wore.

“Are you…flustered?” Aurie teases.

He rolls his eyes, “No.”

“Oh my god,” she slides her hands off of him, and he’s quick to search for them to put them back in place.

“I’m not,” he says with confidence.

“I’m not judging.”

“It feels like you are.”

“I’m judging you for lying.”

“Same thing.”

“Will you shut up for once?” she playfully rolls her eyes, slapping his hands away and walking away.

Kylian scowls at the stiffness of his shorts, begrudgingly following her, “Where are you going?” He can still taste the coffee from her lips as he rounds the corner. “You’re kidding.”

Aurie shrugs, sipping on her coffee as he pouts. He shakes his head, lips pursed as he takes ahold of the mug from her grip and dumps it into the sink.

Her jaw drops, “Kylian.”

“You’ll be fine, you addict.”

She laughs, “Unbelievable. What has gotten into you?”

“You,” he kisses her, trapping her against the counter. Her hand tugs down the zipper of his jacket, slipping her hands inside to shrug it off. “I lied earlier.”

She continues nonetheless as she stares at him with a hint of confusion, “About what?”

“Your birthday present. The check was never meant as your gift.”

“Ah,” she nods. “I would hope not. Money is a shitty gift.”

He chortles, “Not the point. I got you something, it just took a while to be made.”

“Made?”

“Mm-hmm,” he fumbles off the jacket and then searches through one of the pockets. His shirtless physique suddenly no longer intrigues her as he pulls out a square-shaped box. “It’s a necklace.”

“Thank you because I almost had a heart attack.”

Kylian titters, “Here.” He hands her the black, velvet box and she opens it. She had never received jewelry as a gift so she didn’t know what to expect, and so a daisy framed in gold catches her off guard. It’s bigger than the size of her thumb but not too large, a single daisy. Delicate details are etched into each petal with a patterned-cluster in the middle, there had to be almost twenty petals with how skinny each petal was but it was perfect.

Aurie continues to admire it with such rigor that Kylian chews on his bottom lip, “Is it too big? It’s not heavy, I promise. You won’t even feel it. Although, I wouldn’t advise running with it on, I don’t think it will pop up and hit you in your face but—”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers. She didn’t want to think about the price of it; it was a gift from Kylian. It was her first meaningful jewelry piece and she was going to be damned if she felt guilty about it because she didn’t buy it.

It was a gift, she reminded herself. It had been years since she received such a thoughtful gift.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I liked daisies.”

He chuckles, “It’s probably the only flower I know.” She looks up at him and he throws his hands up in surrender. “I know, don’t murder me. I only know daisies and roses. You wore a shirt with a daisy on it and throughout the house, you have tiny fake ones around—and it’s not like you have a flower you dislike. Plus, I found some in my room. Speaking of which, I think I killed that flower, it’s drooping—”

Aurie quiets him down with a kiss, her nails tugging against his shoulder that he hisses. His hands settle against her waist as they part. Her eyes are still wide with admiration and shock, “Thank you, Kylian, this is the sweetest gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Turn it around.”

“The daisy?” He nods. She flips the pendant around and gasps at the tiny engraved ‘Aurèle’ in one of the petals. It’s written so eloquently and crisp that she doesn’t even have to squint to read the tiny font.

“Oh my god.”

“Do you want me to put it on?”

“I’m scared I’m going to break it.”

“You won’t,” he takes the box from her hand and unwraps it. “Plus, it’s insured. Do you want your name showing, or no?”

She laughs, “Hmm, name showing.”

He makes sure it’s facing the correct direction before clasping it around her. She pinches it between her thumb and pointer finger, grinning as she faces him.

His face lights up, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she sniffles. “I’m going to start crying if we keep on talking about it.”

His hands clasp behind her waist as he leans in to place chaste kisses on her lips. They’re slow but meaningful, savoring every second of it while Aurie wraps her arms around Kylian’s neck. She’s already pressed against the counter as Kylian steps even closer to her.

Aurie’s cheeks flush as she feels Kylian’s arousal, letting out a small gasp. Her eager hands trace the ridges of his shoulders as he slips his tongue into her mouth. He finds the hem of her shirt and runs his hands across her bare waist, pinching her softly to elicit another moan.

He reels back, whispering, “Aurèle.”

Aurie’s eyes open immediately and look up at him. He’s afraid that he said the wrong thing, that she is going to slip through his arms and run—again. His grip tightens but then quickly loosens, not wanting her to feel trapped between him. He takes a step back, “I’m sorry.”

She wishes she could hide her shock better, to not make him feel as if he was in the wrong, but only a few people called her ‘Aurèle’ and that wasn’t a secret. Kylian was lost in the moment, muttering the name he was infatuated with.

“It’s okay,” she nods. “I like it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t—”

“You don’t say it in a condescending tone,” she interrupts, reaching forward to kiss him.

“How do I say it then?” his lips curl up.

She shrugs, “Like something else.” Endearing, appreciative, full of admiration, it was unlike any other. Before Kylian’s hands can sneak underneath her shirt, she pulls away and walks away from him.

“No more running,” he whines, adjusting his shorts now that she isn’t facing him.

“Then follow me, princess.”

He grumbles, rolling his eyes. Aurie triggered the air conditioning on that it made him shiver as he followed her up the stairs, wincing with every step. She goes into his bedroom first, gasping at the drooping Calathea plant. He rounds the bedroom door as he hears her mutter, “Jeez, did you even attempt to water it?”

“I thought you were going to,” he bites onto his lip. He sits down on the edge of his bed and watches her walk back into the bedroom with a cup of water.

He was itching for her touch to get his mind out of the haze and misery. Aurie had to be messing with him and it pained him as he gritted his teeth. She was so oblivious, walking around as if she wasn’t turned on herself.

“Aurie,” he rasps.

“Hmm?”

“I thought you said you weren’t running.”

“I’m not,” she assures, setting down the cup that is usually in her restroom next to the pot, “this only took a second.” She walks towards him and he gulps involuntarily. Aurie can make out the subtle desperation in his eyes, a sympathetic smile forming while kissing his forehead. He holds himself by locking his elbows, leaning against the bed.

She raises her eyebrows, “Oh?”

“Are you going to restrain yourself?”

“If you want me to.”

He snorts, his thumb reaching up caress her jaw, “I’m a second away from begging, Aurie, you’re killing me.” She snickers, sliding on top of his thighs, the movement catching him off guard. He holds in his cough, “Fuck.”

“If I knew I had this much of an effect on you, I would’ve stopped teasing earlier,” she chuckles, her hands resting on his shoulders.

“You didn’t notice at all?” he gapes, his hands creeping against her lower back. His eyes don’t leave her lips, intoxicated by her smile.

“I did,” she admits, “I don’t know, I just thought you would try to do a little better to hide it.”

His eyes narrow as he laughs, shaking his head while adjusting her legs. His hands roam her bare thighs as he kisses her, deepening it and then pulling away to kiss her neck.

Aurie isn’t slick as she rolls her hips further into his, her insides fluttering as she feels him against her. He groans, nipping and sucking her supple skin.

Everything in him ached to move faster, to roll her over and continue, but he resisted the urge. Sure, he hurt, but he could wait.

She squirms as his cold hands wander underneath her shirt, finally bunching it up in his hand and pulling it over her head. The bandages that cover her frontside don’t stop him, it only makes him pull her closer to him. The feeling of their skin touching radiates shockwaves throughout the both of them. Aurie draws her neck to the side, sighing under the assault of his lips on her skin.

The necklace shined from the light peering in from the windows. It made his legs twitch as he stared at it, leaning in to kiss the pendent. Aurèle. His.

He sucks on the skin above her bra line, earning another hiss from her. Kylian smirks, causing her to grind her hips once more against his bulge. He groans, releasing her skin from his teeth and pinches at her bra clasp. As he pulls down her brown straps, he maintains eye contact with her while her nails dig around his neck. Once Aurie feels the cool air hit her nipple, she murmurs, wanting him to make contact with her but he refuses.

A sly smirk marks his face as he rests his arms underneath her bottom while standing up, walking her to the other side of his bed and laying her down. Aurie’s breasts brush against his chest and it sends her into a frenzy. He chuckles, finally sliding his fingers across her chest and landing on her needy nipple as he pulls the other into his mouth. Having her exposed like this was everything to him, he couldn’t believe he made her feel this free and comforted to be seen so intimately.

Aurie chokes out a moan, having wished for this moment for a while. She’s suddenly thankful that she closed Kylian’s door when she walked in and out of the room to water the plant, making sure it wouldn’t budge. Kylian hadn’t even noticed, too hungover with his aching bulge.

“Kylian,” she whines, wrapping her arm around his head as he swirls his tongue around her sore nipple. He was pinching the other, making her squirm underneath him, her hand not being shy as it traced his curves. She stopped at his pelvic bones, pressing into the skin as a tease and Kylian’s hips buckled down. Her hands teetered around his shorts until they reached the center.

Kylian’s warm breath fans around her nipple as she palms his bulge through his shorts. He glances up at her and she only gives him a playful smile. His teeth skimmed across her erect nipple and then slid to the other. Aurie was relentless, working on sliding down his shorts and caressing his thighs. Her burning touch only made his concentration more complicated, already feeling a small dampness pool in his boxers. He knew that once Aurie found the spot her hands would begin taunting him.

He groans, nipping at her nipple once more before kissing the skin underneath her boob. He knew to be gentle as he neared down, not wanting to painfully rip off any of her bandages by accident.

He tugs down her shorts and raises an eyebrow at her. For all the running away she did, her underwear illustrated a different story. The light gray material was decorated with a darkened puddle.

“Stop staring,” Aurie pleads, wrapping her hands around his forearms. He smiles, hovering over her to kiss her. He plants a couple of kisses on her cheeks, they’re haste and rough as he laughs.

He wanted to scream it, wanted to tell her right then and there but he couldn’t get his throat to say it. Staring down at her, he nudges her nose with his as he kisses her one last time. “Aurèle.”

She snickers, grabbing his chin, “You like saying my name, hmm?”

“It’s beautiful,” he smiles. He catches Aurie off guard by sneaking up his hand to pinch her nipple, earning a smack from her. He winks, sliding his knuckles down to her core, brushing over her clothed clit. He watches her facial expressions contort, still hovering over her. “You’re beautiful.”

Their mouths meet in a feverish kiss, Aurie pulling herself more upward to get Kylian to slide down but it’s no use. He presses the pad of his thumb against her clit and she groans, grabbing a hold of his shoulders to stay upright.

“You’re teasing,” she exhausts, earning a chuckle from him. He grabs a hold of her legs and pushes her further onto the bed.

“Mm-hmm,” he kisses her nose, “welcome to my life.”

“I didn’t tease this much.”

He looks at her through his hooded gaze as he traces his fingers alongside her underwear. Aurie’s cheeks swell with heat, stifling a nervous laugh from her. He shakes his head with a smile. He pulls her underwear down with haste, earning a yelp from Aurie. His fingers don't hesitate to trace along her thighs and clit. And god was he moving slow.

He bends down and gives her thighs a kiss, inching closer and closer until his tongue finally settles onto her clit. The moan Aurie let out was unguarded, so desperate that it drowned out the splattering of the rain. Her hands can only reach his shoulders as he settles himself between her thighs.

She’s sweet, writhing through every stroke of his tongue that he wraps one arm around her thigh while the other massages her breast.

“Kylian—” she mewls, adjusting to the speed of his tongue that further inched down to her core. She wants him, wants to be able to hold him as she rides out her pending orgasm.

Aurie scratches his shoulders and he doesn’t mind the markings, knowing that he already left a couple on her. He continues, obliviously, letting his fingers coat with her juices. He knows by her jerky movements and erratic breathing that she’s close, so he picks up his speed not wanting to tease her.

“I’m close,” she says, her leg beginning to shake against his shoulder. She grinds her hips frantically, chasing her orgasm while he licks most of her slick juices around him. He presses his tongue hesitantly against her swollen clit, noticing the sudden jolt of her body from its overstimulation. He chuckles, pressing one last kiss on her before scooting up.

Her eyes flutter open with a blissful smile, perking her chin up to meet his glistening lips.

“You okay, amour?”

“Cloud fucking nine,” she slurs. He laughs, kissing her dampened neck and cheek. Her arms lazily wrap around him, and Aurie can’t get enough of the look in his eyes. They’re giddy, scanning her face with such rigorous attention that it makes her heart swell. His deep dimples don’t leave his face as he kisses her flushed cheeks again. She smiles, “You look so handsome.”

Kylian cheeses, burying his head into her neck, say it!

“Thank you,” he blurts.

“My turn,” she grins, attempting to roll them over but he doesn’t budge.

“I won’t last long.”

“I lasted a couple of minutes, it can't be that hard to beat.”

He shakes his head, “I’m really hard, Aurie.”

“Way to sound sexy.”

He groans at the sudden contact of her hand on him, shutting his eyes closed and rolling his head against her shoulders. Aurie pushes down his boxers, making them fall to the floor and he steps out of them. Her hand wraps around his tip immediately, evoking a groan and deep breath from him. His moans only sound more airy and yearning as she strokes him.

“Do you have a condom?”

“No, I’m on the pill though,” she admits. “Are you okay with that?”

He groans as she squeezes him lightly, trying to remember if he had ever seen Aurie take a pill. He can’t think clearly, not with her hand wrapped around him. “Where is it?”

Her hand stops, “Do you want me to go get it?”

He trusted her and knew that she couldn’t possibly be lying about something like that, but his rationale side still managed to scream for him to look for the pack. Kylian’s throaty voice murmurs against the mattress, “Fuck, Aurèle, I can’t—”

“It’s right next to my lamp, I can get it real fast,” she reassures. She can’t stop the laugh that manages to gargle out of her, the situation not funny at all, but Kylian’s ragged breathing only kept on hitching the more she stopped and pulled away.

Kylian’s eyes open in recognition, “It’s a pink rectangle?”

“How did you know?”

“I saw it when I went to turn off your lamp last night,” he kissed her cheek, picking himself up.

His eyes are cloudy as he presses his hardened self against her, the both of them gasping lowly. Aurie spreads his slippery precum around his tip and Kylian can only groan. Finally, she lines him up with her entrance and the both of them moan at the resistance. She urges him to continue, beckoning him forward. He presses soft kisses alongside her collarbone as he enters her slowly, letting her adjust to his size. The stretch only intensified as he pulled out, his legs on the verge of shaking from her warmth.

He can’t get himself to say it as he continues his thrusts. He can only whisper it alongside her shoulder, but it’s too low for her to hear him. Tears brimmed her eyes from the mixture of pleasure and passion, trying her hardest to rapidly blink them away before Kylian noticed. Despite their skin meeting  and the rain intensifying in the background, she can only make out the sound of her thumping heartbeat.

His hands trace down to her waist to increase his speed, careful to not touch her bandages. His breath hitches as he feels her clench around him, groaning at the added tightness. Aurie’s arms lock around him, granting him permission to pick up his speed. His sloppy kisses trail from her jaw to her lips, crashing onto them and letting Aurie have her way.

“I—” he stops himself again. He couldn’t do it, his breath physically stopping him from saying it. He feels Aurie’s uneasy breathing against him, signaling that she was close. As soon as she comes, Kylian follows behind her, moaning lowly now that he finally got his release. He sinks his head down into her shoulder as he pulls out, pulling her closer to him despite the mess between their legs. Her once centered necklace now lies against the side of her neck. He kisses it before he moves it back to its rightful place.

As her eyes flutter open and closed, Kylian simpers. He’s gentle as he strokes her back with her fingertips, ever so often does his touch tickle her.

After a lengthy moment's worth of cuddles and giggles shared, Kylian pries Aurie off to follow him into the shower. Her hands cling to him the entire time, a fond smile never leaving her lips—especially when Kylian almost makes the both of them slip in her bathtub.

She could get used to this, she thinks.

------

Note: I was tempted to drop a 10k worded chapter but restrained myself. Hmm, how are we feeling? I plan on there being almost three or four chapters left but shrug, we will see. 

Taglist: @karotland​ @peaky-shelby​ @darlingmbappe​ @mrs-bellingham​ @kylianswifey​ @kymb-10​ @fictional-l0v3r @chaotic-taco-collector-blog​ @itsjuspenny-blog @mattmurdocksbigtoe​ @formula101x @et-in-arcadia-ego77​ @lovekm @okayymochi​ @titti-maja @jokertbh @venus2eros​ @heli991113​ @neymarloverxxx​ @444jodie​ @mm2007 @freespirit-51 @flawlessdiamond1​ @euphoriapillz​ @imagesthatlive​ @ohpuckyeah​ @nothingtoes​

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe x oc #em.writes #comme les fleurs

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

hello

i'm kind of a new woso fan and i keep seeing people saying after this season they won't have anything to watch for some time, so i was wondering is that when like international break starts? like the olympics

hi there - thankfully when you consider the international schedule and the other leagues around the world, there is actually football available to watch year round! so here's a rough breakdown:

may - so the copa de la reina final is 18 may, and the uefa women's champions league final is 25 may. barça have a few (3) additional rescheduled league games after the final to be held in early june (although i have to imagine it'll be mostly barça b players handling those matches).

june/july - the euro 2025 qualifiers will continue from 31 may to 4 june and then again from 12 july to 16 july.

august - women's football at the 2024 paris olympics will be held from 25 july to 10 august.

preseason starts for barça in liga f later in august and they probably will do another mexico tour.

plus, if you want to watch the nwsl (league in usa) where some spanish players like esther, maitane, and ana tejada are, they play a summer schedule.

hope this helps!

#fcb femení #futfem #woso

[chelseachilly]

king of my heart - pt 5

i’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe or if you strike out and you’re crawling home

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: now officially dating, you can’t help but miss your boyfriend while he’s away on international duty warnings: none for this chapter :) word count: 3.1k

a/n: thank you all for your lovely responses to this fic! just as a bit of an fyi, i’m not exactly following the game schedule for the euro qualifiers bc i just cba honestly haha <3

see my masterlist for previous chapters

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charlottewright I spy a certain someone 😉❄️

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-

Dating Ben Chilwell turns out to be even better than you imagined.

You’re happier than you’ve ever been when you’re with him, whether it’s a Monday evening cuddling on his sofa watching Succession or a Saturday at Stamford Bridge watching him dominate on the pitch.

The only drawback is that it’s difficult for you to squeeze in this time together between his intense training schedule and you entering a busy time of year at work.

You despise it when he has an away game and you’re forced to spend the night apart, as you’ve grown accustomed to sleeping next to him. Even when he’s exhausted from training or you have to work late, you usually end up making your way to the other’s place and crashing there.

So when the season ends and Ben has to leave for international break, you can’t help but dread the separation.

You’re incredibly happy for him, knowing how much it means to be called up for the national team once again, but you hate the fact that he’s going to be gone for weeks.

“I wish you could come with me,” Ben whines as you lay in bed together.

He has to leave soon to go to the England training camp, where he’ll be for the next week before flying to Italy and then Malta for the qualifiers. In total, it will only be two weeks, but as you’ve hardly gone 24 hours apart since you began officially dating a month ago, it’s going to feel like a century.

“I know, babe,” you murmur into his bare chest, his arms holding you closely. “I’m really sorry I can’t make it to either match. Work has been so crazy and it will be tough to leave mid-week.”

“Don’t apologize, love, your job is just important as mine.”

“I think most of the country would disagree with you there,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

He smiles, though it seems a bit forced, and you can feel the tension in his body.

“Are you nervous?” you ask gently, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“A bit,” he admits. “I don’t know if I’ll even be starting, but I really want to be at my best for this. The Euros could be my chance to really make an impact for this team, you know?”

He’s confided in you that missing the World Cup last year due to injury took a big toll on his mental health, and that it still stings a bit to this day. Obviously, the Euros are his next big opportunity to show what he’s capable of, and you know he will.

“You’re going to do great, Ben,” you say sincerely. “I can’t wait to watch you play, even if it has to be on TV. And Southgate would be a fool not to start you, by the way.”

Ben smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his lips lingering on yours.

“Thank you, baby,” he says, pulling you closer and briefly glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Fuck, I have to leave soon.”

“I know, and I have to go to work,” you groan, kissing his collarbone. “Five more minutes?”

Ben nods and kisses your forehead. “Five more minutes.”

-

Ben ❤️ - 11:32 PM I miss you so much 😔

You - 11:33PM I miss you too 🥺 How’s training going?

Ben ❤️ - 11:33PM It’s good to be here but I’m exhausted and the gaffer wants us up at 6 tomorrow 

You - 11:34PM You should get some rest then babe, we can talk tomorrow

Ben ❤️ - 11:34PM Can we facetime for 10 mins and then I’ll sleep?? Promise

You - 11:34PM Ok, calling now ❤️

-

The day of England’s match against Italy rolls around, and you feel a pang in your stomach from the moment you wake up.

You so badly wish you could be there to support your boyfriend, but you have to work tomorrow and you really can’t justify flying to Naples and back for one evening.

You text Ben throughout the morning, sending him words of encouragement.

You - 11:21AM Good luck today babe!! 

Ben ❤️ - 11:24AM Thanks baby ❤️ I’m on the starting lineup!

You - 11:30AM Omg!! Can’t wait to watch 😘

Around lunch time, as you’re sitting at your desk reading emails and feeling just a bit sorry for yourself, you get a call from Charlotte.

“Y/N!” she exclaims. “I just got a call from Declan’s girlfriend Lauren and she said a few of them chartered a jet to fly to Naples to surprise the boys. There’s room for both of us if we want to go. Please tell me you can leave work!”

You’ve met Declan and his girlfriend a few times now, at various gatherings at Mason’s place. She’s a super nice person and it’s incredibly thoughtful that she would invite you and Charlotte, both of you very new to the Premier League WAG crowd.

Charlotte and Mason, while keeping things fairly casual, have pretty much been exclusive for nearly as long as you and Ben, though they see each other much less due to Charlotte being away for work so often.

“I’m not sure,” you sigh. “I would have to ask my boss for the rest of today and tomorrow off, and I don’t want to seem flighty. No pun intended.”

“Babes, you never leave work early,” Charlotte says. “And how often do you get to take a private jet to surprise your boyfriend in Italy?”

She does have a point there. This would be an amazing opportunity, and more importantly, it would allow you to support Ben and see him a week earlier than planned. That’s hard to resist.

“Okay, I’ll ask. When do we have to be at the airport?”

“An hour and a half, but I’m already packing for you!”

You smile and roll your eyes affectionately as you hang up and go to your boss’ office. You’re nervous to ask, but she immediately tells you that you’re one of her best employees and that you’ve been working your ass off since you started, so you deserve this.

You thank her profusely before packing up your stuff and rushing to meet Charlotte at the airport.

“Hey, Charlotte, Y/N!” Lauren says, greeting you both with a smile as you and Charlotte meet up with the others on the tarmac. “I’m so happy you could make it!”

“Thanks so much for inviting us!” you say, fiddling with the strap of your purse.

You suddenly feel a bit nervous - these women, a couple of whom you’ve never met before, are all so beautiful and glamorous. You, however, just came from work and are wearing minimal makeup, your hair in loose waves and a simple light blue dress on.

“It’s great to meet you,” one of the girls says. “I never thought we’d see Ben settle down, but according to Jack he’s totally whipped.”

You can’t help but blush at this comment - and the fact that Ben is so obviously into you that even his friends’ girlfriends know about it.

“You must be Sasha,” you deduce, realizing she’s Jack Grealish’s girlfriend. Jack being one of Ben’s oldest mates, you’ve met him a couple times, and you recall him mentioning her. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Sasha smiles at you before turning to Lauren. “We’d better go if we want to make it for kick-off.”

The flight ends up being a lot of fun. The girls pop a bottle of champagne and you all get to know each other better, Lauren telling you and Charlotte stories about Mason and Declan as kids and you and Charlotte answering questions about your jobs.

“I think Dec mentioned you’ve always been a big Chelsea fan?” Lauren asks after showing you some photos of their adorable baby boy. “It must’ve been a bit surreal when one of the lads started chatting you up.”

You laugh and take a sip of your drink. “Yeah, at first it was definitely a bit mental. But it felt so natural with Ben from the start, honestly. It was like I’d known him forever.”

All the girls erupt in a chorus of “awww”s, except Charlotte, who gives you a knowing smile.

As Lauren, Sasha, and the others discuss how they’re going to surprise the boys after the match, you lean over and whisper to Charlotte.

“You know, I never pictured us as football WAGs, but this is really fun,” you admit.

“Speak for yourself, Victoria Beckham was my role model growing up,” Charlotte jokes. “By the way, everything they’re saying is true. Chilly is obsessed with you.”

“I don’t know,” you blush. “Do you think it’s too much surprising him like this? We’ve only been official for a month.”

“You’re way more committed than me and Mason, and I’m doing it too,” Charlotte shrugs. “Don’t overthink it, Y/N. He’s gonna flip when he sees you, I promise.”

You decide to take her advice and try to relax and enjoy yourself, sipping champagne and continuing to chat with the other girls.

By the time you land, it’s getting close to game time, so you all decide you’ll surprise the guys after the match is over. Lauren leads the way to the box you’re in and you’re all seated with drinks and snacks just in time for the boys to make their way onto the pitch.

Your heart races when you see Ben in person for the first time in a week, albeit from very far away. He looks so good in his England kit, standing among some of the best players in the world and ready to represent his country. You couldn’t be prouder.

While your spirits are high at the beginning of the match, things quickly begin to go downhill as play progresses.

Italy scores twice in the first half, one of which due to what you’ll admit was a poor defense from Ben. At halftime, it’s still 2-0, and you can see the disheartened looks on the team’s faces when they walk out to play the second half.

You wince as Mason gets tackled and falls over in pain, and you squeeze Charlotte’s hand when you see the obvious worry on her face. Thankfully, he’s able to get up and continue playing, but the ref fails to give out a yellow card to the Italian player.

You can see the frustration on Ben’s face at this clear oversight, and the match goes on with England continuing to struggle.

With about twenty minutes to go, both teams decide to make some substitutions, and your heart clenches when you see Ben’s number flash on the screen. He looks completely defeated as he jogs off the pitch.

Harry Kane manages to score a goal with an assist from Declan in the last few minutes, but it’s clear that it won’t be enough as the clock runs out and Italy take the win.

It’s a unanimous decision among the girls to go back to the hotel and wait for the boys there rather than try to find them in the tunnels. You obviously have much less experience with this than they do, but even you know that it’s probably best to give them some time to cool off.

Despite the fact that you know it’s for the best, all you want to do is find Ben and hug him tightly, knowing he’ll be in need of some comfort. You restrain yourself from texting him, not wanting to blow the surprise for everyone else.

You wait outside the hotel for the team bus to pull up, knowing it will take a little bit for them to shower, do any post-match press and drive over.

Eventually, the bus pulls up, and the team begins to exit. Although they’re all obviously upset with the result, you see some of them perk up as they spot their partners there to greet them.

Mason is among the first, and he runs over to kiss Charlotte with a smile on his face.

As the others reunite, you can’t help but feel a little nervous again - you know Ben will be feeling shitty and he may even want to be alone. And here you are in Italy, with no escape until your flight tomorrow.

You don’t have to worry for long, thankfully. As soon as Ben steps off the bus and locks eyes with you, his clenched jaw and furrowed brow disappear and he jogs over to you immediately.

Without a thought, you leap into his arms, and Ben hugs you tighter than he ever has before, burying his face in your shoulder and inhaling your scent.

“What are you doing here?” he mumbles into your shoulder. “I mean, how did you-“

“Lauren decided to charter a plane so we could catch the match, and I guess Char and I are inner circle WAGs now,” you murmur, and it has the desired effect of making him laugh softly. “How are you feeling, babe?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, cupping his face with both hands. His arms remain coiled around your waist, refusing to let go, and he drops his forehead to yours.

“I played like shit,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry you flew out to see that.”

“You weren’t shit,” you tell him gently. “You had a bad day, and so did the rest of the team. It happens. Nobody is perfect all the time.”

“At this level, I should be perfect,” he says. “I should’ve been better. He subbed me off for a reason.”

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, unable to take the look of complete self-loathing on his face for a moment longer.

“Ben, honey, it’s alright,” you say softly. “You won the last match, you’ll win the next one. You’ll get another chance.”

Ben sighs and pulls you back into his embrace, squeezing you just as tightly as before. You begin to hear the flashing of cameras, and you turn to see that a small crowd of paparazzi have gathered. You can only imagine how much these shots of half the England team snogging their girlfriends would be worth.

Although you and Ben have teased your relationship a bit on social media, and you’ve gone out in public a few times, you have yet to announce anything official.

You know that remaining out here will ensure that your face is in the tabloids tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

“Sorry, babe, do you wanna go inside?” Ben asks, dropping his hands from your sides reluctantly.

You shake your head and pull him back into your arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“No, screw them,” you murmur. “I wanna hug my boyfriend.”

Ben just holds you closer and rocks you back and forth slightly in his arms, and you hear him mumble a quiet “thank you” into your hair.

-

Sure enough, within a few hours the photos are all over Twitter, but by that point you’re naked in the luxurious hotel bed, limbs tangled with Ben’s.

All of the players and their partners retreated to their respective rooms not long after meeting up outside. It was clear that everyone was in need of some rest and recuperation prior to their next match in Malta in a few days.

You and Ben spent a little bit just laying in bed, silently holding each other and exchanging soft kisses. Eventually, he began to speak, and you talked through the loss today and how he felt about being subbed off.

Not for the first time, you consider yourself lucky that of all the footballers you could’ve fallen for, you chose one who regularly goes to therapy and is surprisingly well-adjusted for a male professional athlete in his 20s.

After talking for a while, you had slow, emotional sex, both of you craving each other after your week apart.

Now, you’re just enjoying each other’s company and laughing as you scroll through the headlines on social media.

“This is a good one,” Ben chuckles, the stress on his face from earlier now completely vanishing. “‘Beautiful mystery woman consoles distraught England and Chelsea left-back Ben Chilwell after devastating loss to Italy.’”

“God, they’re dramatic,” you roll your eyes.

“Not wrong, though,” Ben smiles, kissing your forehead. “Thank you so much for being here. Losing sucks, but it’s not nearly as bad with you.”

“Of course, I’m glad I came.”

You both set down your phones and lean in for a kiss, Ben pulling all of your body weight on top of him.

“You sure you’re okay with us going public?” he asks, running a hand through your hair as the other one holds your waist. “People can be pricks online.”

Despite you remaining unnamed in the articles, some fans have already figured out your identity. Ben follows you and likes everything you post, so it really wasn’t that hard to determine. Since the photos dropped, you’ve been steadily gaining Instagram followers, and you know things are going to change for you a bit.

“I can handle it,” you tell him, kissing him lightly. “I’m so happy with you, I don’t wanna hide that.”

“Alright, but please tell me if it gets to be too much. I know you can handle it, but I don’t want you to have to. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, brushing your nose against his, your eyes fluttering shut. “Now, can we order room service? I’m starving and I don’t wanna leave this bed.”

Ben smiles and nods, reaching over to grab the phone. “Yeah, get whatever you want, love.”

You spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed, you eating copious amounts of pasta while Ben sticks to salad, and fall asleep watching a movie together.

You’re both still disappointed from the match and dreading you having to fly back to London tomorrow, but it’s a perfect night nonetheless.

Really, any night you’re together feels perfect to you, as cheesy as that is, and it’s becoming pretty clear to you why.

You’re in love with him, and it might be too soon to say, but you think he just might be in love with you too.

-

benchilwell

📍Ta Qali National Stadium, Malta

liked by yourusername, masonmount and others benchilwell That’s more like it ❤️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 Big win today! @england

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yourusername 🦁❤️

chelsfan21 omg chilly’s gf confirmed???

-

next chapter 💙

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #komh

[delusional-dinosaurr]

Nice Sleepover? Part 2 (Alessia Russo x Reader)

It's time, you've all been asking for it. So here it is!

I present to you, Nice Sleepover Part 2! Sorry I've been super busy! Whilst I take forever, be sure to check out my other one shots on my masterlist HERE

Oh and Part One to this fic is HERE

(Note: In this story the Euros isn't during this year)

It's been 3 months since you got loaned to City. You and Alessia have been messaging each-other ever since the night you both reconnected. You haven't had a lot of time to take her out for dates, you only managed to take her out for the one official date since you had your night together. You took her out to an arcade and made it your mission to win her something. You not only surprised her but you surprised yourself by winning her 4 toys from the claw machines! You still hung out on nights where you could but with your conflicting schedules it was still difficult.

You received a call from Jonatan to recall you back to Barca for the final match of the season as Alexia had gotten injured. It was very last minute but unfortunately your contract stated that you could be recalled at anytime with no notice. You were booked on a plane to leave 6 hours later so you panic messaged everyone letting them know your loan spell was up. Alessia was in an absolute state at the news, just when she thought you guys were close again, you'd already been snatched away from her. She spent that evening crying on Ella whilst you were flying out to Barcelona. Your new/former housemates were also absolutely gutted at the news of your departure. Your words to them as you left them at the airport were "I'll be back before you know it, I promise” and Lauren trusted you on this, you've never broke a promise.

━━━━━

You arrive at the airport in Barcelona with an injured Alexia on her crutches and a very hyper Mapi helping her.

“Y/N we missed you so much!” Mapi gives you a massive hug and squeezes you to the point you feel as if you can’t breathe. Alexia gives you a gentle hug but leans on you a little for support.

“ACL huh?” You sigh and give Alexia a sad smile, she doesn’t quite meet your eyes when she confirms it’s her ACL. You grab her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

“You’ve got this, if anyone can bounce back from an ACL injury it’s Alexia fucking Putellas!” You say as you all slowly leave the airport and go to Mapi’s car.

━━━━━

Match day comes around, and you’ve had a week or so to get back into the Barcelona groove. Your contract is up with Barcelona in a month, and you’ve already had your contract agreement settled for the future, you’ve just gotta wait for the media team to officially announce it at the end of the season.

You didn’t wanna say to the team about how you missed your teammates in Manchester as you were worried they’d be offended. You always felt somewhat dismissed in Barcelona, a bench warmer and a super-sub. You were shocked to hear you were called back in the first place as they surely would’ve wanted to sign someone else on, but you also felt excited to be back at the same time, you’ve missed Barcelona with your team.

You’ve been constantly calling and messaging Alessia since the day you left and you already can feel that you miss her. You regret not asking her to be officially your girlfriend whilst you were there as you don’t want it to be a case of asking her over a video call or a meet up for a day whilst you have a trip there.

You’re sat in the locker room taking in your surroundings, making sure you can remember this day vividly, as who wouldn’t want to remember a match that they’re in the starting 11 against Real Madrid. You’re watching your teammates dancing around and singing whilst you have your headphones in, listening to a playlist that the England girls have been listening to pre and post match. Your music quietens as you receive a text.

Good luck today! I can’t wait to watch you win!

You grin as you receive the message from Alessia and quickly send her back a thank you. You normally did a pre-match call to help not be so anxious for a match but you can only assume that due to the distance it may not be easy to call.

“What, or should I say who, has got you all smiley?” Ingrid nudges your shoulder. Ingrid took you under her wing when you started at Barcelona and she was one of the main few that you missed the most in Manchester.

“Just uh, this girl I’m talking to” You blush thinking about Alessia.

“Oh shit! You have a girlfriend? You go to Manchester for like 3 months and have already found a girlfriend? Nice one Y/N!” Ingrid cheers.

“Oh we aren’t together, just an old friend, another player, who I’ve reconnected with, nothing official” You say back, packing your headphones away and start getting ready to head out the room.

“If she’s got you smiling like that, you need to ask the girl out!” Mapi interjects. Alexia hobbles into the room in a leather coat and jeans to help give the team a pre-match pep talk and give the captain armband out. She gives her speech and walks over to you.

“Today Y/NN is going to be the captain! Her contract with us is nearly up and hopefully this helps secure a longer future here with us in Barcelona! Just know you’re appreciated by us and we all love you” Alexia cheers whilst the team huddle around you. You already know the outcome of your contract agreement and grin at Alexia’s little compliment to you.

The match starts without a hitch, fairly dirty game from the Madrid side but the Barcelona girls somewhat keep their cool. Half-time comes around and its 1-1, with Claudia Pina scoring an absolute belter of a goal to equalise. You give the team a big talk at half-time which gives the team an enormous boost to morale. You’ve already won the league and the team have already had the cup and party but this would mean that they went the whole season unbeaten, which has never been done in the history of the team.

85 minutes in. The score is 2-1 to Madrid. The girls are making more poor decisions with tackles, Mapi and Ingrid both receiving a yellow. However, you manage to make a sprint towards goal before your legs get swooped out by another pair of legs from behind you. Instantly the ref blows her whistle whilst angrily pointing to the penalty spot, the crowd is roaring with excitement at this whilst the ref shows a yellow card to the Madrid player, followed by a red quickly after. She protests before stomping off the pitch. Mapi goes up to take the penalty and nails it into the top right corner whilst the goalkeeper dives the other way. You run up to her and lift her whilst both yelling as other teammates join the huddle.

“Lets show them why we’ve already won this fucking league!” You yell to your team.

90 minutes have passed. 2 minutes of extra time. Both teams have been fighting hard, one to go unbeaten and the other team pushing hard to beat their rivals unbeaten streak.

Mapi sends you over a perfectly timed cross whilst you’re closing in on the goalkeeper. You pass it to your right to Claudia who runs it out slightly to help free up some space in the box, a Madrid player knocks the ball out of play, resulting in a corner for Barcelona.

Mapi steps up to take the corner as you all get in position in the box, she sends it soaring over to you so you jump and header it as best as you can. You thump to the ground and hear the stadium erupt, you jump back onto your feet and kick the ball back into the net in celebration. The final whistle is blown and your team instantly run to you and lift you up, playing at Camp Nou is always special but today felt different. You’re taking it all in as your team are underneath you celebrating loudly.

━━━━━

After all the celebrating you eventually head back to your hotel and start packing your stuff ready for when you next need to travel.

You hear your phone chiming on the bed to see Alessia’s name, requesting a video call.

“You are absolutely insane scoring a header like that!” She says instantly, you can hear Tooney in the background chanting your name.

“I take it you watched the game then?” You giggle.

“Of course I did, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Sadly I didn’t have a Barcelona shirt to wear at home whilst supporting you but I’m sure I can always steal one from you next time we meet up!” She says smiling at you through the screen.

“I’ll get one from my next match for you, if you’re extra nice I can even sign it for you!” You giggle, earning an eye roll from her.

“I really miss you Y/N. Like a lot” She sighs.

“I know Lessi, I miss you loads. I’ll be visiting soon though, not quite sure when but I promise it’ll be soon!” You smile back at her.

You carry on talking for what feels like hours before heading off to sleep ready for the next few days.

━━━━━

You’re sat with Lauren Hemp at a Man United v Liverpool match at the front row of the Manchester supporters section. You’re wearing a lovely red ‘Russo’ shirt as you lost a bet with Lauren the previous night on how long it’d take you to mention Alessia. Lauren keeps mentioning how she feels like she’s sinning sitting in a United supporters area. Underneath her hoodie she is wearing her City shirt so she feels ever so slightly less disgusted. You laugh at your friend's antics but nevertheless, she sticks it out with you to watch your girlfriend but not girlfriend play.

As the match wraps up between the two sides ending in a 6-0 win to United the teams make their way around the stadium chatting with fans and taking photos. Eventually a few come your way, catching Tooney’s eye.

“Lessi, there’s someone wearing your shirt there, go chat with them” She says casually, nudging her best mate in your direction.

“I was hoping to get my Russo shirt signed if you wouldn’t mind? I’m a massive fan. I’m so glad to hear you’re staying in Manchester for another 2 years” You smirk. Alessia is yanking you over the barriers and onto the pitch with her.

“I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea” She says squeezing you tight.

“I missed you too gorgeous, carry on with your fans. I’ll meet you as you leave, I can give you guys a lift?” You say with her nodding back.

━━━━━

Alessia and Ella meet you and Lauren outside the stadium as you offer to give them a lift home rather than get on a team coach back to manchester that takes a lot longer than a car. You all chat amongst yourselves and sing along with the radio.

You drop Tooney and Alessia off first. Lauren smacks your shoulder.

“Mate invite her over, the spare room is still only for you until you go wherever you go! Just keep the noise down yeah?”Lauren chuckles. You quickly jump out the car and grab Alessia. “Can I help you?” She chuckles looking at you.

“Uh so I’m staying at Laurens for the next few nights whilst I’m here, and was wondering if you wanted to stay over?” You say nervously. “I’d love to, let me just go drop off my stuff and I’ll be back!” Alessia runs into the house to drop off her stuff and grab some clothes for tomorrow.

“Bye Ella! I’m going for a sleepover!” She yells as she leaves the front door, whilst she can hear Ella yell something about protection.

━━━━━

You, Alessia, Lauren and Leila are all sprawled out over the sofa’s in the living room after eating your bodyweight in fast food. You hear a few yawns from the group and Lauren stands up.

“We are all clearly knackered, bed time!” She says, clapping at you all. You all get out of your seats and Lauren begins pushing you all towards the stairs.

Once Alessia gets settled in your temporary room she leans into you and kisses you gently, but that gentle kiss keeps escalating until the both of you have to break apart in order to breathe.

“You have no idea how hot it was to see you in a United jersey with my name on it” She says leaning in for yet another passionate kiss.

“Well you have no idea how hot it was to see you tackling people and getting angry at the ref” You say back. “Well the ref was being stupid, I still can’t believe he-” You break her complaining with a kiss, she straddles your lap and starts taking your shirt off.

“God I’ve missed you” She says whilst attacking your neck

The rest of the night continues as you’d expect. By that, you didn’t really sleep a lot. After all you did have a lot of catching up to do with Alessia.

━━━━━

You wake up the following morning to your phone ringing, you quickly grab it and answer.

“Yes I’d love to! Thank you so much, I’ll be there as soon as possible” You say trying not to scream with excitement, Alessia has woken up and looks as confused as ever.

“What was that about?” She asks you, prodding your side.

“Oh nothing, you’ll find out soon!” You smirk at her “That reminds me, can I take you somewhere today? A surprise date if you will”.

“I’d love that, we do need to make up for all the video calls whilst you’re visiting!” She smiles at you “Where are we going?”

“About that, it’s going to be a surprise” You grin with Alessia looking at you confused.

After a short drive with Alessia complaining about being blindfolded and the odd "This is a bit kinky" comment you eventually arrive at the date destination.

“Ta da!” You say as you remove Alessia’s blindfold. She winces at the light and looks out the window.

“Very funny Y/N, you know I will always be a United fan and you cant convert me!” She says sighing at the view of the Etihad Stadium in front of you.

“Oh well I guess you wouldn’t wanna go in for a tour with me then!” You smirk, she sighs and gives in. You’re both greeted at the door by some staff who guide you back outside, where Gareth Taylor is waiting whilst admiring the stadium.

“Hey Gareth!” You say as you shake his hand, he shakes Alessia’s hand and greets her too.

“You ready to see it?” He asks you whilst patting your shoulder, and you nod excitedly in response. Alessia is looking between the two of you, confused at what is going on, whilst you’re looking at a big display that is blank, until it’s finally on display. He pats you on the back and walks back into the stadium whilst yelling a “See you at training!” in your direction.

“Welcome Y/N Y/LN!” is written on the display with a photo of you in your City kit on the display with “2025” written underneath too.

“Wait, is this what I think it is?” Alessia squeals whilst hugging you tightly “You’re coming back?”

“I am, and there’s no chance of Barcelona stealing me this time” You squeeze her back.

“I can’t believe it, this is the best day ever!” She starts tearing up on your shoulder, you kiss her face repeatedly and can’t wipe the smile from your face. Your phone starts buzzing with notifications, which means the whole world know that you’re officially signed at City.

“I love you Alessia” You blurt out whilst hugging her, she pulls back to look into your eyes.

“I love you too Y/N, more than you’ll ever know” she presses a gentle kiss to your lips whilst smiling into it.

“I guess this makes us girlfriends now?” You ask her.

“You haven’t even asked!” She jokes, pretending to be offended.

“Oh I’m sorry! Alessia Mia Teresa Russo, will you be my girlfriend?” You say bowing slightly to her and extending a hand out to her whilst laughing.

“You’re so dumb” She giggles and takes your hand “But yes, of course I’d love that” She kisses you again, this was by far the happiest day of your whole life so far, but you knew it would be overtaken in the future, as long as Alessia was part of it.

━━━━━

Hopefully this was a nice part 2 for you guys and that you enjoyed the ending! <3

#alessia russo imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso one shot #woso request

[jsprnt]

Healing Hearts PT. 12 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

A/N: I’ve been watching the national team games lately and man I miss the World Cup so much :(

WC: 3.199

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I check the time before I get up, walking out of my office to look for Cody. I knew he would be in the gym, that's were he'd been at this past week.

Not being able to train or play in matches definitely made him want to be still be at the training center. Just to not miss out. He had been in a brace since the game against Tottenham, causing him to miss out on yesterdays match against Union St. Gilloise.

Walking into the the gym and spotting him sitting on the exercising equipment, watching the other players exercise as he chats with them.

"Cody!" I call out, realizing it had probably attracted way more attention then if I had just gone up to him. I ignore the looks of some staff members and players, particularly Virgil's as I walk up to Cody.

I had pressed on to hide our relationship. The only thing everyone should know was that we were friendly as physiotherapist and player, nothing more or less. I was wondering if we were even good at it, so far we did not have any hiccups. Or so we thought.

"Hey, are you ready to come with me?" I ask.

"Oh yeah. Of course." He says, getting his crutches together to stand up.

"So, no greeting today Doctor." I hear a Scouser accent say.

Turning my head I make eye contact with a cheeky looking Trent.

"Hello Trent." I say, a smile on my lips.

My eyes dart at Virgil behind him who's talking to another staff member. Though, it seems like he can feel me staring at the side of his face as his eyes move to make eye contact with mine.

And of course he fucking winks

No, not even a fast wink and look away- no he had to keep staring after

I catch myself quickly trying to play it off swiftly and return my gaze to Trent.

This man was testing me.

"You've been very busy lately? Not having lunch with us either." He says pointing at me.

"Well my schedule has been packed you know that. I got to make sure you and your fellow national team players are in top shape."

He chuckles his hand coming up to my shoulder, slightly squeezing it. "Appreciate it Doc."

I nod at him, warm smile forming at my lips. I loved it when my work was respected or praised. It was definitely a huge motivation to keep helping and supporting my patients.

"Thank you. Speaking of, I have to see you in a about thirty minutes. Southgate's people have been emailing nonstop for your progress report. I've got to update it before sending it tonight."

His grin turns wider, his pearly teeth showing as the corners of his mouth crinkle.

"I'll leave before I boost your ego even more! See you in a bit." I say, laughing at his change of expression.

I look back at Cody who had already found another chatting partner and tap his shoulder to signal we had to go.

"You need any support?" I ask watching him walk with the crutches.

"Oh no it's fine." He say as we walk towards my office.

"Alright so-" I begin, reading my notes again to a worried looking Cody.

"I did discuss your injury earlier with the other physio's. I was advised to check your injury again today. Just to confirm our final conclusion. Initially, we estimated the healing time would be around seven weeks. With the progress you have already made with the brace you have on- we think you'll be back on the pitch in about four weeks. We're guessing it won't take anymore time since you definitely have a record of healing pretty fast."

"So no EURO qualifications?" He say a disappointed look on his face.

"Yeah- I'm sorry Cody. You know you have both internal and external help ready for you. Just mention it if you think you need extra support to one of us and it will be handled. Besides, I think our country definitely has a huge chance of making it to the EURO's. Just focus on healing so you can be in Germany next year. I promise you you'll be back better than ever." I say, looking at him with sympathy.

"Thank you. I know I can definitely trust the team." He smiles, though he still has disappointment written all over his face.

"Speaking of the EURO's- are you taking the optional leave during it? It has probably been a while since you've seen your family and friends." He asks changing the focus of the conversation from him to me.

I hadn't even thought of home in a while. After the infuriating phone call with Theo I had vowed to myself I'd stop letting it bother me as much. It wasn't healthy for me mentally. So I let everything be handled by my new attorney I had recently become acquainted with and of course the authorities.

I had moved back home, installed some fancy security system that costs me thousands and changed my key-code and lock. I was so done with being stomped on like a bug by a ratty looking man - I had to take control of my life somehow.

Me living alone again did take some convincing on Virgil's side. He was understandably very concerned for me- but obviously I was grown enough to handle that part on my own and he understood. He helped me move back in and everything was going very smooth so far. Of course Sophie made sure to check on me many times by knocking on my door. We had girls nights almost every other day at this point.

"I don't know- haven't thought of it yet." I answer, it did sound nice to go home to see my friends and parents. None of them knew what had happened. FaceTiming with the girls when I was living with Virgil was difficult. Especially, when his house looked so different compared to mine. To try to hide that I was living somewhere else was an actual pain in the ass. I was glad I did not have to do that anymore.

"It does sound nice but I'll have to think about it since we could have some more injuries coming up. Fingers crossed everyone will stay healthy though."

Cody ends up leaving shortly after, and I follow him out to find Trent. Hoping he's still in the gym. Thankfully, he is, and we walk into my office together and I go over the most important things that needed to be updated on his progress report.

It doesn't take much time and my appointment with Trent is done quicker than I had scheduled. Leaving me alone in my office, absentmindedly doodling in the corner of my planner, oblivious to the world outside of my office doors until the door handle is moving. The sound of the door being opened and locked after removing my attention from the flower I had drawn.

"Virgil? Did something happen?" I ask, worried about something going wrong at the gym.

He smiles walking up behind my desk and turning my office chair towards him so I face him.

"Just wanted to see my doctor." He says, and I try to not look flustered. He effect his words had on me needed to be studied by a renowned university.

I stand up, looking up at his tall frame, it slightly sweaty. The smell mixed with his musky cologne.

His hands travel to the small of my back pulling me closer.

"Virgil!" I hush, my eyes darting around even though I didn't have any glass panels or windows facing the hallway.

"What I can't see my beautiful girlfriend now?"

He smirks, his eyes roaming around my face.

Oh he was definitely enjoying this

My hands travel down to remove his hands from my back, stepping aside for a moment.

"What if there is like paparazzi hiding into those trees or houses? Can't they see us?" I whisper, my expression bewildered. My eyes travel to the window that faces the training pitch, darting around to look at the scenery behind the large pitch.

"Don't be absurd how would that be possible. No one will see us y/n." He says, his hands traveling to my jaw, gently making me face him.

"You're fine. We'll be fine. Just tell me- did you miss me?" He asks another cheeky smile on his face. I roll my eyes, though a smile pulls at the corners of my lips.

"Nope, not at all. You weren't even gone. Besides, you smell like sweat. Move!" I tease, stepping away again. He reaches out again and I step away again, a laugh leaving my lips at the desperate look in his eyes.

"Now you're being childish."

"I'm not. Go back to training. I have another appointment in a bit." He steps towards me again, this time managing to catch me in another hug.

I open my mouth to protest again, but we're interrupted as someone knocks on my door. My blood going cold for a moment as I pull away from Virgil. I look at him mortified, my heart thumping in my chest.

How would it look? If the physiotherapist and a player of the team were in her office. With the door locked?

Virgil notices the panic in my face, his face coming closer to my ear. His hand coming to run up and down my upper arm.

"Calm down. Go open the door. I'll sit on the table to pretend you just treated me and I wanted privacy."

"Okay." I whisper back, trying to release the tension in my body.

"Muscle tenseness." He adds.

I walk quickly, glancing back at Virgil before opening the door.

"Why is your door locked. Got someone in here?" The German accent booms, and I don't know if I should be relieved or embarrassed.

"Oh Jürgen?"

The name falls off my lips awkwardly, he'd insisted we'd be on first name bases. It would break down some hierarchy and our teamwork would be better he had said.

I step aside to let him in.

"Oh yeah- treated Virgil for something- tense muscle." I lie, forcing a smile on my face.

He raises an eyebrow as he catches Virgil on the treatment table, his shorts slightly hiked up to pretend I had just finished treating him.

"Boss!"

He exclaims getting up and greeting Klopp with a hug. Leaving me practically third wheeling there for a moment.

"I am sorry y/n thought you were free but you had a patient here." He says and I can't help but notice he's definitely teasing us.

"It's okay- what was it that you wanted to see me for?" I ask, trying to dismiss the topic. Discreetly trying to make eyes at Virgil for him to leave. But he shakes his head, obviously this wasn't torturous enough for him.

"It was about you staying here or taking a leave during national break. Should he leave or is he allowed to hear about it?" He points a thumb at Virgil both of them obviously now trying to crack jokes about the entire situation.

I chuckle, sure I shouldn't be awkward around Klopp. He'd known about almost everything so far, our relationship, the break in. Most embarrassingly a bit about my relationship with my ex. He was required to know at least some of it, so there was no reason to feel weird around him.

"Shouldn't he be in the gym right now?" I ask raising a cocky brow at Virgil.

"You heard your missus get out of here already!" He jokes, using the British slang, lightly punching Virgil's shoulder. His perfect pearly white teeth showing.

"I need you to leave."

"Excuse me?" I ask, the tone of my voice high as his words make my heart skip a beat.

"You need to leave for a bit during national break. I do not want you working then."

I quietly exhale at the rest of his sentence. He almost had me thinking I was getting fired.

"Why?" I ask, fidgeting with the pen in my hand.

"You've been through a lot and I think it's best that you go home for a bit. See your family and your friends."

I raise my brow at his words, my face morphing into a confused expression.

"Oh I'll be fine here there is no reason-"

"Listen and trust me y/n you've been through something that requires some more rest and healing. It's a little longer than a week and I need you to get out of here for a bit."

I stare up at him with wide eyes- a manager also taking care of the staff. That was new.

"I'll think about it Jürgen. Thank you."

"Fill in the leave application and I'll make sure it gets confirmed immediately."

I lean back in my chair after finally emailing some progress reports to my fellow physiotherapists of the national teams.

I let Klopp's words sink in, it was occupying my mind when I wasn't treating or assessing the players. Why was everyone so curious and insisting I'd take a leave?

My thoughts are cut short as I hear a notification pop up on my phone. My hands going to reach over as I'm still leaning in my chair.

The message being from Virgil. He's says training ended and to come over to his when I clock out. I shoot a quick message back agreeing before sitting up and working on the last progress report I had to send before getting out of the office.

"Should I come with you? Back home?" I say, fidgeting with the blanket on my lap as I look at Virgil. He turns his head from the Netflix show he was occupied with, a slight surprise on his face.

"You want to?"

"Yeah- thought it would be good for me and everything-"

He suddenly throws his arms around me, his face coming closer to mine to plant kisses on my face and lips.

"Of course- you’ll come to my matches and everything- let me check the flights. There should be a lot of availability."

I watch the plane land through the window. I had taken so many flights in my life due my work, that I could practically fall asleep through the turbulence. Though, first class made it ten times more comfortable.

I rub my tired eyes, the last few days had been hectic with me not knowing what to pack and in true me fashion I over packed. Virgil had already left a couple days earlier. The training camp in Zeist requiring him to be there earlier.

I had told everyone back home I was returning and everyone was very surprised to hear I was visiting so early. My dad was picking me up from the airport which did make a bit nervous. I hadn't seen him in a while. Which made me curious as to how he would react.

Thankfully, my luggage comes quickly and I immediately make my way outside of the airport. Dragging my heavy baggage behind me. Of course in typical Dutch fall fashion the weather was shitty as ever. The rain dripping on my face and body, making me shiver.

Spotting my dad in his car I nervously approach it. Taking deep breaths to try to calm my nerves.

He steps out after parking, his door opening immediately as he walks towards me.

"Hi dad."

I'm caught of off guard as he wraps his arms around me in a hug. My dad giving me this much affection? That was a new one.

"Let me have a look at you." He mumbles, pulling away and planting his hands on my shoulders.

"You've gotten skinny. Is the food there not good enough for my daughter?"

I chuckle, dismissing his concerned expression.

"I'm fine, but can we go home? It's cold out here."

"Here we thought y/n was going to England for a new job, but she also snatched a man as well?" Monet exclaims, taking a sip of her drink.

I had told them of my relationship with Virgil. From beginning to end, leaving some- crazy details out, but they were happy for me.

We all came together to Monet's home for a nice movie night. We had a lot of catching up to do. The movie had long finished, leaving us lounging around her huge sofa with drinks and snacks on the table.

"Oh stop you know I didn't plan shit." I exclaim throwing her a piece of popcorn which she avoids quickly with the duck of her head. A laugh leaving her nicely painted lips.

"Hey, no reason to be embarrassed. You're a WAG now-" Juliette teases and I resist the urge to throw another piece popcorn her way this time.

"Stop making it sound so weird- it just happened."

I complain taking another sip of my drink. My eyes dancing over the marble tiles of the home. Monet had opened her own clinic a couple years after graduating, and looking at how beautiful her home was maybe I should've taken that route too.

"Right- let's talk about something else, or we're never passing the Bechdel test." Priya chimes in.

Oh yeah, that would be much appreciated.

The night passes with many laughs and juicy gossip. Half of the friend group being flat out drunk when it's time to go home. Clumsily calling Uber's and getting home late. Making them remember their old university memories of partying it up on weekends.

y/n enters her childhood bedroom, stumbling across across the pink carpet before drunkenly throwing herself on her twin bed. She groans softly, the mattress being harder than she had recalled.

Her sleepy and drunken daze is interrupted by her phone ringing in her hand bag. She grumbles before sitting up, moving her hands to look for the bag. Only to find it on the floor, and sleepily pulling out her phone.

"Hello?" She mumbles holding the cool phone against her warm cheeks and throwing herself on to the bed again, her cheek squashed against her fluffy pillow.

"y/n?" The deep voice calls out, and she gasps softy at the recognition of the comforting voice.

"Virgil? Why haven't you called me all day? I've missed you." She giggles, her cheeks hot from the alcohol.

"I've been busy at the training center. You okay? You sound different." He asks, wondering why his girlfriend sounds so giggly and is slurring her words.

"Drinks with the girls. Half of us got drunk. Liz almost tripped when entering the cab." She laughs, trying to whisper so her parents don't wake up.

"Oh yeah?" He says, amused by her drunken story and speech.

"It was funny." She whispers, her drunken mind repeating the scenario, making her burst out in laughter again.

"Okay, but when can I see you? We're in the same country but I still miss you." She unconsciously pouts.

"We'll be in Amsterdam tomorrow, two days before the match. Come over to my place yeah? I'll see you tomorrow night. Go to sleep now sweetheart. You must be tired."

#virgil van dijk fanfiction #virgilvandijkimagines #virgil van dijk #virgilvandijk #vandijk #liverpoolfc #football #liverpool fanfic #football fanfic #football imagines #liverpoolimagines #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil x reader #footballer x reader

[wosobronze]

just to clarify things for anyone confused about the summer schedule

1. barça last match- 16th June

2. no football scheduled for any club or national team

3. int. break(euros)- fixtures 12th and 16th July - euros qualifying finished

4. Olympics start- 25th July

5. Olympics end- 10th August

6. Barça preseason 2023 started 19th August, if lucy stays she’ll probably be called up unless they think she needs more rest, anyone playing in the olympics will not be

overall takeaways-

they have a good 3 weeks between june and july that i’m pretty certain will be completely free for all the players

unless sabrina springs some friendlies onto them during the olympics- lucy will be free to wag (although i see her only going to the later important matches or just the final)

she will probably have to do preseason at the end of august for any club she is at

lucy gets a lot of time off which is good but she’ll have limited holiday time with her girlfriend unfortunately

thank you for this run down haha🩷

[sixfoottwo0119]

Writing Beth Mead’s autobiography: ‘I dreamed about her every night for three weeks. By Katie Whyatt

I wonder if Beth Mead would be alarmed to learn that I dreamt about her every night for three weeks solid. I had been warned that would happen. One of the first things I did when I found out I would be ghostwriting her memoir Lioness: My Journey To Glory was to call the handful of colleagues I knew who had worked on sporting autobiographies. Mike Calvin, co-author for Joey Barton and the Welsh rugby union player Gareth Thomas, had told me I would end up dreaming about — maybe even as — Beth Mead. I never experienced the latter, but the former? Several times each night.

The anxiety behind all this was understandable. The need to meet the Christmas market meant we had just three weeks to come up with in excess of 80,000 words. That’s close to 4,000 words a day on top of my research, fact-checking, visits to Beth’s family and conversations with her friends and former coaches. Beth had just returned from a training camp in Germany with Arsenal and our writing schedule overlapped with two England matches, one of which was abroad, as well as games for Arsenal. As the Euros’ top scorer and player of the tournament, Beth also had scores of media commitments with everyone from McDonald’s to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home. The deadline could barely have been tougher.

And what if Beth didn’t have anything to say? What if we didn’t click? What if neither of us could find the words for a life that included England’s first major trophy since 1966, Arsenal’s first league title for seven years and, more significantly, the 27 years of off-field moments that shaped one of the country’s most defining sporting icons of the past decade?

When the opportunity to work with Beth arose, I did not hesitate for an instant. I would later learn that she, her mum June and Beth’s agent Mags Byrne had met in London with countless publishers — each had prepared a presentation on why they wanted to be the ones to distribute Beth’s book — and Beth had insisted that I was the ghostwriter she wanted. It had reassured June that a journalist Beth knew and trusted would be taking the reins, even if it was my first full-length book. Beth had told one member of the publishing team that the book was “like her baby”. I, too, wanted the final draft to be one that we could both be proud of. I really, really cared.

Thus, the dreams began. The most vivid — and disconcerting — one came first. England were playing in a World Cup and I was staying in a leaky tent in snow-covered woodland, trying to snatch moments with Beth as animals circled behind the trees. Beth and the Football Association kept cancelling our meetings, then Beth could manage only 15 minutes, didn’t say anything of note when the time came and the old-school Dictaphone I was using didn’t work. The tent flooded, the books I’d been using for research vanished and the conversations with Beth’s family and friends revealed an extensive history as a child actor that I’d completely forgotten to ask Beth about.

Happily, those were irrational worries. There was no career as a child actor — a short-lived one as a ballerina, granted — and no snow or World Cup to work around. More significantly, Beth knew she had to approach this project with candour and jump all in if it was to be worthwhile.

In that first video meeting — me in my front room, Beth in her hotel room at St George’s Park — Beth opened up about the impact of being left out of the Team GB squad and her frustrations with the then-England manager Hege Riise. The second part of the conversation was more uplifting. This was Beth’s first England camp since the Euros win and she had opened the door of her hotel room to find piles of gifts and congratulations messages, which she held up to the camera to show me. She talked of a team meeting earlier that week in which the England manager Sarina Wiegman had asked the players to recount the strangest things that had happened to them since the final on July 31. We were looking back, but there was a freshness and an immediacy to many of those conversations, a sense that we were documenting Beth’s post-Euros life in real time.

It helped that Beth was enormously self-aware — of her feelings, her strengths and her flaws — and through our conversations, I was able to begin to see the world as she does. There were moments I was struck by the similarities between us, such as when Beth and her parents spoke of the crippling homesickness Beth experienced on England camps as a teenager. That reached its nadir when Beth moved from Sunderland to Arsenal in 2017. Their words chimed with me because of my own experiences of being away at university. Beth’s memories of the key moments of Euro 2022 are startlingly vivid and she took me behind her eyes on the pitch. She handled the conversations around her mum’s illness — detailed also in The Athletic Women’s Football Podcast — with courage and strength.

Instinctively, Beth understood that crucial storytelling technique of “show, don’t tell”: don’t tell me that Sarina Wiegman is the best manager you have ever played under or that Lucy Bronze pushed you to reach the next level, but how and why. Her anecdotes from throughout the tournament bring us into that summer with a new intimacy.

We managed 20-something hours of conversations, Beth based everywhere from hotel rooms in England and abroad to the home she shares with Vivianne Miedema, who once caused havoc resetting the WiFi router. I visited Beth’s family at their home in Hinderwell — they are the kind of parents who have kept everything, including Beth’s first football boots, bought from a car boot sale for 50p — and we saw her old primary school, ballet school, teenage bedroom and favourite sports field. Her dad Richard knows all there is to know about his daughter’s football career and was invaluable in piecing timelines together.

You quickly learn that the kind of quote that makes for a detailed article or interview does not necessarily make for a detailed passage of a book. Take, for example, Beth’s relationship with her Arsenal team-mate Miedema. They began dating in the days after Beth’s England beat Miedema’s Netherlands 5-1 in a pre-World Cup friendly. They made it official in Manchester, where the Netherlands squad had stayed during their time in England. Those are nice details, but not enough to build up into a story with mood and atmosphere. Where, specifically, did Beth ask her? What did they say to each other? What were their thoughts? Who instigated the first kiss? How did they feel? Once I’d written most of the book, Beth and I combed through each chapter, adding in new details.

The memories of Beth’s former coaches, including Phil Neville, supplemented Beth’s and made for the most complete story we could tell. Ian Wright wrote the foreword himself — my heart soared when his Word document dropped into my inbox and I saw the care he’d put into it — and Jermain Defoe, Beth’s friend from their shared days at Sunderland, needed little convincing to come on board for the afterword.

Miedema, who has her own series of children’s books, read some of the earlier drafts to see if I had captured Beth’s voice. Viv’s feedback was that one section, which jumped from topic to topic, read more like the interview it had been than a chapter Beth had written. Finding Beth’s writing voice was one of the most crucial aspects of the project. The temptation, in the face of such a demanding deadline, could have been to revert to my own voice to save time, but I was not about to take shortcuts.

What that meant was long days of writing — clocking off at midnight to wake up again at 4am — subsisting almost entirely on the Greggs menu. There were moments I panicked I would never get the book finished. At one point, I needed to hit 8,000 words a day and all I could see was the 30,000-odd words I still needed to write. I couldn’t see the next step forward: I still needed to write up her time at Arsenal, and all those Euros chapters, and re-do the one on Wiegman. It was Calvin who told me to “eat the elephant one bite at a time”, and Stuart James (my The Athletic colleague who worked on Jamie Vardy’s autobiography) helped me to bring some order to the tens of thousands of words I had on the Euros on a day when I’d barely written anything.

Then it was time for Beth to read through the final draft. She would read it at home or on planes to Champions League games. Her parents would read copies and send over corrections or clarifications. Days before our first deadline, Beth sustained a concussion in Arsenal’s Champions League match with Ajax, meaning she could not look at screens or concentrate for long periods of time. She showed real persistence to finish reading the book and I was relieved when, with Beth satisfied, I could press send on draft one and flop into bed.

We submitted the redraft a few weeks later and Lioness: My Journey to Glory will be available in hardback on November 10. To say I am nervous for the world to read it is an understatement. I’m almost as anxious, in fact, as the moment I emerged from my snow-soaked tent to learn that dreamworld Beth Mead would only deign to give me 15 minutes of her time. Almost, but not quite.

#beth mead #meado #meadema #lionesses #england wnt #england #engwnt #arsenal ladies #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #arsenal #awfc #woso #woso couples #woso soccer #viv miedema #vivianne miedema #miedema

[bengiyo]

Dangerous Romance Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Sailom told Kanghan that if he wants to be his lover he has to get with his friends. Sailom told him he couldn’t just use his money for that, so Kanghan tagged along with them to buy supplies. Kanghan tried to be tough, but he’s a rich boy who passed out in the heat. Then the show decided to have Sailom be unsteady on a bus he uses everyday so Kanghan could catch him. Auto suggested Kanghan actually use his money for them since they’re broke, and so Kanghan took them to a club. The police showed up and caught Auto. Kanghan stepped up to help rescue Auto, leading to problems for Kanghan’s dad. Kanghan missed the final point of their football match, but Guy told Sailom to go take care of Kanghan because he and Auto already knew. These two are now official in a moment that was supposed to be cute, but irked me because they made Sailom look dumb again. Meanwhile, Saifah has wormed his way into becoming the grandmother’s caretaker, so he’s definitely going to fuck this up for everyone.

Visually I think Papang and Chimon were a good choice to play brothers.

I need someone who grew up in Asian school systems to explain how the grading system works. In the US, 65 is still a failing grade.

I think I’ll have to ask one of the Thai speakers later if Kanghan did a cute thing with pronouns when they translated “faen-ja” as “boyfie”

Perth and Chimon are cute together. I really hope we get a better show from them next year.

Aren’t their rooms connected by a bathroom? Why would Kanghan hide behind a curtain? This boy is so dumb it’s painful.

Okay, he’s not as dumb as I thought and got out on his own. I’m glad Saifah didn’t find out about them within a day of being around here.

Guy and Nawa want to fuck each other so bad it makes them look stupid. Now they’re feeding each other and excited about their scheduled fight. Oh, boys.

I’m not even sure how I want to read Sailom being frustrated with Kanghan about not showing up for tutoring. This show seemingly wants it to be about Kanghan’s ability to change and the impact on the romance, but for me I’m still focused on the debt looming over Sailom and Name’s willingness to inflict violence on them for that.

Curious about the grandmother buying the expensive medicine for Saifah. I half-expected him to consider stealing the medicine and selling it to use a generic instead, but now he’s faced with someone choosing to be kind to him.

Yes, let’s check in with Pimfah to reassure the audience that Sailom is misunderstanding Kanghan and he should maybe not be mad.

The cinematography of this apology scene is good, even if I feel like the stakes are constantly shifting in this show.

Oh, right, the windmill analogy.

I do enjoy a training montage.

Glad they didn’t make Perth shave his legs.

The scene work between Ging and Saifah is actually really good.

Is Nawa about to go fight this man in crocs? He’s about to be like ole boy on that Birmingham dock.

Where is my GMMTV variety content of JJ and Euro hanging out and trying restaurants?

Another boy who wants his clothes to smell like his boyfriend. I’m okay with this.

Why is Sailom being precious about intimacy?

I do feel for Kanghan crying in happiness that he achieved something he worked hard for and having someone be proud of him for it.

Why the hell is he paying Saifah in the watch he accused him of stealing? This feels suspect as fuck.

Goddamn. There goes the dad undercutting Kanghan again.

Perth is good whenever the direction is clear.

It’s very weird having the rich boy and poor guy pairing going with the same shit going down in Only Friends with Sand and Ray.

I wonder where these two will run away to. I still don’t think I get Sailom.

Next week: We’re surprised when a card gets canceled while trying to him ‘em up style. Sigh.

It’s really worrisome for me when the best parts of a BL are happening in the side character drama. The best moments this episode were mostly around Saifah, because I just don’t get what’s going on with Sailom.

#dangerous romance #dangerous romance the series #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

[beardedmrbean]

Security will be increased at Champions League games this week after a media outlet supporting the Islamic State group published threats against venues.

Ministers in both France and Spain have confirmed enhanced security measures.

A pro-IS media channel has published several images of stadiums hosting quarter-final ties on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Uefa said it was aware of the threats, but said games in Madrid, Paris and London would go ahead as planned.

French Interior Minister Gérald Darmanin said there would be "considerably reinforced" security measures in place when PSG play Barcelona in Paris on Wednesday.

Mr Darmanin continued: "I will remind you that only 10 days ago, IS shared a picture of the Munich stadium and said action should be taken against sports venues that host football games - although all sports can be targeted. Given how important the Champions League is for football, we are of course talking to our partners."

The jihadist images posted this week did not refer to any particular match or event and were shared by pro-IS media groups not officially linked to the organisation itself.

Two quarter-finals are due to be held in Madrid this week. Real Madrid host Manchester City on Tuesday, while Atletico Madrid take on Borussia Dortmund on Wednesday.

Pilar Alegría, Spain's sports minister, has issued a message of "calm" ahead of the games in Madrid and said "more than 2,000 police and civil guard officers" are being deployed.

The acting mayor of Madrid, Inmaculada Sanz, told Spanish media there was no specific threat afoot, adding the terrorist alert level in Spain was four out of five, which is classified as high risk.

"These announcements are usually propaganda actions to provoke fear," she said.

"Both the security forces and the intelligence services are studying any possible threat, but there is nothing that makes us foresee a situation of special risk."

Live: Champions league build-up and football latest

A counter-terrorism source told the BBC that IS did not normally advertise planned attacks, citing last month's shootings at a theatre in Moscow. That had not been discussed in advance on any social media channels.

Arsenal play Bayern Munich in London on Tuesday. Metropolitan Police Deputy Assistant Commissioner Ade Adelekan said: "We're aware of online and media reports in relation to calls to target matches across Europe and here in London.

"However, I want to reassure the public that we have a robust policing plan in place for tonight's match and we continue to work closely alongside the club's security team to ensure that the match passes peacefully."

The pro-IS channel featured images of the Emirates Stadium in London, the Bernabeu and Metropolitano Stadiums in Madrid, as well as the Parc des Princes Stadium in Paris.

Although the channel is not officially linked to IS, it is thought the directive to publish the threats may have come from the jihadist group itself, as its leadership recently hinted at close co-ordination between official media operatives and online supporters.

Material seeking to incite attacks on channels with long-standing ties to the group have increased in the wake of last month's Moscow concert hall attack, according to specialists at the BBC's Monitoring service.

Another image shared last week depicted the Allianz Arena in Munich, which is due to host Bayern Munich's return leg against Arsenal next week.

A spokesman for European football's governing body said: "Uefa is aware of alleged terrorist threats made towards this week's Uefa Champions League matches and is closely liaising with the authorities at the respective venues.

"All matches are planned to go ahead as scheduled with appropriate security arrangements in place."

Germany is set to host the Euro 2024 European Championships later this year.

When asked last month about threats to stadium security, German Interior Minister Nancy Faeser said the "dangers have reached a new level". "The state is arming itself even more strongly against all current threats," she added.

Ahead of Arsenal's match later against Bayern Munich at the Emirates Stadium, a spokesperson said venue staff were "working closely with the Metropolitan Police regarding the safety and security of all supporters and staff at Emirates Stadium for all our matches".

"Our planning for tonight's fixture is no different and our approach, working together with the Police and UEFA, is proportionate to the current UK threat level."

The Deputy Assistant Commissioner of London's Metropolitan Police, Ade Adelekan, has said officers have "a robust policing plan" in place for Tuesday's match, but has asked the public to "remain vigilant" at the event.

"The UK terrorism threat level remains at 'substantial', meaning an attack is likely, and we work closely with colleagues from across Counter-Terrorism Policing in planning for events here in London, to take into account any relevant information that could help us to keep those attending safe," he said in a statement.

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