#uefa training | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpsdana · 9 months

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Hey!!! I absolutely adore your writing, you're so talented!!!!

Can I request a joao felix fic where he and the reader are friends but he's in love with her? Maybe he doesn't tell her until he sees she's getting the attention of other guys and fears he's losing her and stuff. Like the prompt 70 on your list <333

Ps. You're like my fav writer here I hope you have a great day ❤️

Scared~João Felix

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

thank you so much for the feedback.thats super cute <3 I hope you enjoy this one <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

70-"you really love her don't you?"

It was almost too obvious for everyone that João was in love with y/n. To everyone but her. A lot of his friends have tried to get him to confess, convincing him that she shares the sad feeligs as him, but he was too scared to do that.

They met through mutual friends. y/n was a close friend to almost everyone on the Portuguese National Team. João and y/n specifically met in 2019, after Portugal won the UEFA Nations League, in the after party. They seemed to click immediately and have been close friends ever since. but João couldn't help but feel something more for her, hoping she would feel the sane but also afraid to ask her about her own feelings

The team had a reunion after the 2022/2023 season was over. Training together for some friendly matches against other teams.

y/n thought she'd pay them a visit at one of their training sessions. As soon as she stepped on the field, her eyes met João's. He smiled widely at her, his face lighting up as soon as she smiled back at him. He was about to walk up to her before someone beat him to it. That someone being Ruben Dias. Someone João would never admit to anyone that he is jealous of.

y/n's eyes averted from João when someone stood in front of her. She looked up and saw Ruben, one of her closest friends aside from João.

"Ruben! I missed you" she hugged him tightly, him doing the same thing back

"I missed you more angel" he said into her hair.

She laughed at the nickname, only making him smirk back

"to what do I owe the visit? you suddenly remembered you knew a Portuguese football team?" he joked, making her laugh, her eyes averting to João for a spilt second, noticing his gaze at them, before she looked back at Ruben

Ruben glanced back at where she was looking, only to see João glaring at him.

"ohh you came to see your boy" Ruben smirked making y/n snap her eyes towards his with burning cheeks

"my boy? we're just friends" she shrugged her shoulders, avoiding Ruben's intense gaze on her

João was wondering why y/n was blushing so hard. What has Ruben said that made her that shy? He felt a knot forming in his stomach. What if she ends up dating Ruben and forgets about him? What if he never gets to see her again because Ruben wouldn't allow that? What if he ends up losing her forever?

He didn't want that. Not now not ever.

He hasn't realized he was still staring at her until Bernardo Silva came and nudged his shoulder

"stop staring João" he said, making João turn his eyes away from the girl.

"I'm not staring" he mumbled under his breath, playing with the ball between his legs

"oh you so are. tell me what's with the frown" Bernardo insisted, making João let out a sigh

"its just...y/n seems to really enjoy Ruben's company. And I'm just scared that she might forget about me if she starts dating him. I mean I know he's better looking and older and stronger or whatever but I just...I don't want to lose her" he confessed, his eyes being fixed on y/n the whole time.

Meanwhile, Bernardo was looking at João with a smile on his face

"you really love her don't you?" he said, smiling as if he's the one in love

João's cheeks only turned red in respone, nodding his head slightly

"yeah I do" he mumbled, looking up at y/n, only to see her looking back at him. She smiled and waved, before she atrted walking to him

João started to panic not knowing what to do.

"don't panic. Just tell her you love her and everything will be fine" Bernardo tapped his shoulder before walking away

"hey João. how are you handsome?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. He hugged her back tightly, before they both pulled away

She was about to say something, but was interrupted by João

"I love you" he blurted out, and the look in his eyes told y/n he wasnt just saying that as friends

y/n stood there in shock before she was able to talk

"you do?" she asked, still in shock

"yes. and seeing you with Ruben earlier, all red and blushing made me realize how much I love you and don't want to lose you" he confessed, feeling a weight shift off of his shoulder

"you're such a dumbass. the only reason I was all red was because Ruben called you 'my boy' and that I only came here to see, but between us, you are the reason I came here to day. and I love you too you idiot" she said, making him grin widely

He hugged her tightly again, before pulling away and quickly attaching his lips to hers. Before she had the chance to kiss back, João pulled away and ran to Bernardo, just to tell him what he did.

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kamotecue · 7 months

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the start of something new ❉ j. groenen

pairing: jackie groenen x reader

summary: a freshly graduated college student who majored in photography gets a job, that many football fans would want.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you sat in one of the conference’s seats, it was a meeting about the publishing days for the team’s social media page, mainly instagram. you’re the team’s newest photographer, not just that but you freshly graduated from ucla with a minor in economics, a major in photography.

your camera gear was set on the table, different camera lenses were sorted in the bag, the camera itself, an extra storage card, two black camera straps and the other essentials.

you had anxiously tapped on your thigh, as you payed attention to the conversation. it didn’t take long for the meeting to end, and when it did—you gently carried your stuff.

it was international camp, as the uefa nation’s league was coming to a close. you grabbed the tripod already setting it up, as the schedule was coming to a close.

and as expected, the players had arrived. some were in a group of trios, duos or individual. you were behind the camera, as a few players took note of the newest staff.

you had a shy interior as you hid behind the camera while your co-staff had done the talking. occasionally, asking things how is it like at their club, or their weekend has been.

it was literally break when you were at the pitch, a co-worker was helping you set up the cameras as you were humming to yourself, not noticing a player looking at you with adoration.

she noticed your shy interior, how you would avoid conversations or eye contact with people. it was cute to her, she wanted to get to know you better. but she didn’t know how to.

little did she know, that she had caught your eye as well. your little brother is quite a fan of the team, and you would always get mixed up by the players.

but jackie really stood out to you, maybe it was her smile. the out-going vibe that she gave. you grabbed your camera, ready to take pictures after the players started piling out of the building.

quickly snapping a few pictures, you made sure the angle and lightning was okay. the pictures turned out perfectly, you looked through the camera, noticing a certain dutchie looking at you with a soft smile.

you had taken a picture, as you found the smile a bit charming. the whole training, you focused on the playing style, you had played high school football but never continued at college.

“come on, jackie.” daniëlle teased, trying to nudge the midfielder a bit closer to your direction. you were busy humming to yourself.

the day had came to an end and you were busy sorting through the camera gear, putting the things away not noticing the two players behind you.

“she’s busy-“ jackie didn’t finish her sentence as she was pushed by the other midfielder. she was just behind you, admiring the way you were focused.

she cleared her throat, but you didn’t hear it. jackie looked at danielle who shrugged.

“tap her shoulder!” danielle cheered, as jackie scoffed at how happy she was. she took a deep breath before gently tapping your shoulder.

you glanced back at her before placing the camera down, her eyes were looking into yours as you reached into your bag, getting a case.

as you opened it, a pair of hearing airs were revealed. yes—you needed hearing aids. did you use them? you do, but earlier your ears were hurting, hence you had removed them for a while.

you quickly put them on, giving her a timid smile—as her eyes widened in realization.

“yes?” you asked, as she cleared her throat for second time.

“hi, i’m jackie.” she introduced herself, her hand was held out as she had a toothy grin. you chuckled at her behavior, before returning the handshake.

“i’m y/n l/n. i’m sorry if you called me earlier, i had my hearing aids off.” you explained, as she hummed. it was a cute thing, despite this being the first time interacting with you, she loved how you rambled. or how you’d over-explain things.

“it’s fine, i didn’t really know. so, how’s your first day?” she asked, as she stepped beside you. analyzing the gear.

“it’s fine, my brother is a huge football fan.” you commented, as she asked for permission to grab on of your cameras. you gave her a soft nod, as she grabbed your nikon d780.

she turned the camera on before looking through the viewfinder of the camera.

“is he, then? who’s his favorite player?” jackie asked, as she snapped a few photos of the pitch, she turned the camera to danielle and a few of her teammates who dramatically posed.

“he really loves viv.” you chuckled remembering on how he’d ramble about the star striker, feeling a bit disbelief on how she would’ve retired at age 18.

“i’d see why.” she hummed, pointing the camera at you, quickly snapping a few pictures catching you off guard.

“hey!” you said, covering your face with your hand as she chuckled at how cute you looked like. you were shy, but you always preferred to be behind the camera and not in front of it.

little did you know, you had gotten out of your comfort zone in the future. jackie is and will always be your favorite photographer, she’d snap photos of you.

#jackie groenen #jackie groenen imagine #jackie gornen x reader #nedwnt x reader #nedwnt #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot

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pulisicsgirl · 9 months

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breathe, you're okay (pt. 2) - mason mount

summary: the anticipation of the impending UWCL final puts a damper on Mason and Y/N's budding relationship

pairing: Mason Mount x footballer!reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings/tags: descriptions of anxiety, mutual pining, supportive Mase, brief mention of panic attack, description of a UWCL final that's probably a bit over the top, fluff, two lovesick idiots

requested: yes!! here

notes: thank you all for all of the support on part one!! I hadn't planned a second part, but this actually flowed really easily! I really hope you all enjoy it! bonus points to anyone who guesses what the American football movie is

read part one here

Just over a month had passed since your encounter with Mason. Just over a month since the beginning of your budding friendship. Just over a month since the UEFA Women’s Champions League Semifinal.

The Manchester United women had scored early in the first half—a goal that you had assisted on. With that goal, the aggregate score was tied, which had done wonders to calm your nerves and settle your focus for the rest of the game.

After a full 90 minutes and two more goals for your team in the second half, the final aggregate score was 3-1, and you advanced to the Champions League Final.

Though you were relieved to have advanced from the semifinal, you didn’t allow yourself to slack off or back down from your work in training. You were still giving your best effort each day, often putting in extra hours after the rest had gone home to ensure you were at the top of your game.

You were kept in check, however, by Mason. He had continued checking in on you for the week leading up to the semifinal and he was the first person you wanted to text after your win (though when you went to do so, you found that he had already messaged you his congratulations and to give him a call when you had left the stadium).

But he recognized that your relief from winning the semifinal leg would not be overpowered by your nerves for the final. So, he kept a watchful eye on you, checking in to make sure you were feeling okay, ensuring you were getting the proper nutrition that your body needed—a couple of times he’d had to nearly drag you by the arm to eat lunch, refusing to let you train through another meal.

More and more frequently, Mason would stop by the field you were working on alone when he had finished training, taking a moment to chat, check in, and make sure you weren’t running yourself ragged. Then, more and more frequently, he would join you, running drills with you, having crossbar competitions, and teasing each other as you worked. You had to admit that having someone else there was helpful for numerous reasons—another perspective to suggest improvements and small tweaks to your game, better competition than a stationary piece of plastic in the shape of a defender, and it definitely boosted morale and made you more motivated to work. Mason had even noticed improvements in his own skills and endurance the more he worked with you, and he was impressed by the regimen that you had come up with for yourself.

At the beginning, he would always claim that he trained with you so that if you were pushing yourself too far, he would be there to talk you into going home. But you suspected, the more he stopped by, that he was just doing it because the two of you were having fun. And you couldn’t say you minded one bit.

The two of you began to settle into a comfortable routine. The women’s training tended to wrap up about 30 minutes earlier than the men’s, so you would set up the cones and begin running your drills before Mason would join you a short while after. Depending on how rigorous your training had been that day, the two of you would work for one or two more hours before calling it quits.

Then, you began extending your time together to reach beyond just your extra training hours. Mason had suggested one evening that you both hit the showers and then go over to his place to watch a movie that he had thought looked interesting. It didn’t take much convincing for you to agree. Then, that became a part of your routine.

Train. Showers. Movie night.

You watched anything and everything, from superhero movies, to comedy, to romance dramas. Each night the two of you crept closer and closer to one another, starting out on opposite end of the loveseat, then shoulders brushing, then your head on his shoulder, until ultimately, he would lay across the seat, head propped up on a pillow with you lying on his chest.

The routine became comfortable. So much so that any night that you weren’t at Mason’s and he wasn’t at yours felt wrong. Mason had even “forgotten” a change of clothes at your house, and when you mentioned it to him, he had just sort of shrugged in response, saying nothing further. You had simply washed them and tucked them into a drawer for whenever he may have needed them when he was over.

The two of you were comfortable, but no label had been put on the two of you yet. Frankly, you hadn’t even spoken a word about the unspoken arrangement you had, both of you afraid to pop the bubble you seemed to be living in.

Mason, however, was itching to say something to you, but he didn’t want to overwhelm you with the UWCL final fast approaching. He had sworn himself to wait until after the final to say something, no matter how much it tore him to pieces to not kiss you when you were laying on his chest, eyes slipping closed as you slipped into sleep only minutes into the movie.

And so your routine continued. Training together, filling the time with flirtatious comments and teasing gestures. Movie nights each night, alternating whose place you went to. Spending each night curled into each other, often falling asleep in the comfort of one another’s touch. Stolen, lingering glances and longing stares.

Everything felt perfect.

But Mason noticed a shift in you as the final drew near. You had gotten so swept away in whatever it was you had going on with Mason that you hadn’t noticed how quickly the match was approaching. It wasn’t that you had forgotten the date or anything, you just hadn’t realized it was so soon.

He had caught you staring at the calendar you had on your refrigerator door one night as the two of you were about to curl up on your couch to eat your Chinese takeaway and watch some movie about American football that you swore up and down was the best movie you’d ever seen. Your expression was unreadable as your eyes just darted over the calendar. Mason slowly approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist—something that had become very typical for the two of you as you spent more time together. He pressed his chest up against your back, holding your waist firmly, but you didn’t react at all.

“What’re you looking at, darling?” he asked, having to restrain himself from calling you baby.

“The final…” you trailed off, speaking at a whisper. “It’s only 10 days away…”

The two of you fell into silence as Mason gave you a moment to process your own statement. Then, with his hold on your waist, he turned you around so you were facing him, back to the calendar.

“You okay?” he asked cautiously. He was nervous about the expression on your face—worried that all of the work that you had done to overcome your anxiety related to this match would come undone in mere moments.

You were quiet for a second, just looking over his face. “Y-yeah… yeah, I’m good.” You pressed a smile to your lips, but Mason could tell that it was forced, only meant to make him feel better.

You were restless that night as the two of you settled down for the movie. You barely ate your food and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position until nearly an hour into the movie.

The next day, you didn’t seem any better, and the shift in your personality continued in the days following. Mason still made sure you went to lunch, but you put up more of a fight to the idea. You began staying at the training ground for longer in the evening, not satisfied until you had almost completely exhausted every muscle in your body. You were completely exhausted once the two of you reached the home of whoever was hosting that night. You were fidgety and restless until the moment you lay down on his chest, when you fell asleep almost immediately from the sheer exhaustion you were putting yourself through.

He even had to talk you down before you had another full-blown panic attack one afternoon on the training field. He had put his foot down, telling you that you needed to call it a night, despite only training for less than an hour after everyone else had left. You had resisted for several minutes, but finally gave in. You were short and snippy with Mason for the rest of the night, and he did his best not to take it personally, knowing it was the stress wearing down on you.

Then, at long last, the day of the final arrived. Earlier in the week, you had asked Mason to be there, in the stands, and he had assured you that he wouldn’t miss it for the world. It meant everything to you to have him there, as you would have no family there with you, either to celebrate the win with you or pick you up after a loss (however, you tried desperately not to think about the second possibility). Plus, he had been your rock throughout the last weeks, and there was no one else you would rather have there, supporting you.

He had already been planning on going before you had talked about it with him, arranging to go with a few of his teammates under the guise of wanting to support the female half of their club. He was sure they knew his real reasoning, having noticed the countless hours the two of you seemed to be spending together, but they didn’t bring it up.

Sooner than you would have liked, warmups were over, and you had entered the locker room, standing in front of your cubby and staring at the jersey that hung before you. Your last name and number stared back at you, the white lettering contrasting the vibrant red material of the kit. Donning your jersey had never felt so dramatic until this day.

One of your teammates patted you on the shoulder as they passed behind you, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly took the jersey off of its hanger, pulling it over your head, and smoothing the material over your abdomen.

The moments seemed to pass quickly but also dragged on at the same time, leading up to kickoff. The team huddle. The pep talk from the coach. Before you knew it, you found yourself lined up in the tunnel with the rest of your teammates, awaiting the walkout.

The familiar feeling of dread settled low in the pit of your stomach. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you closed your eyes, shaking your head to try to snap yourself out of it. You rocked back and forth on your feet, trying desperately to picture Mason in front of you, cradling your face with his forehead pressed to yours while he reassured you that you were safe and capable. Steadily, your heartbeat seemed to slow, but the feeling of dread felt only a fraction lighter.

A tapping on your shoulder caused you to snap your eyes open, and you realized that the rest of the players had begun walking out onto the field. You jogged forward, able to catch up with the teammate in front of you before you exited the tunnel, out into the bright, roaring stadium.

You lined up with the rest of the girls, facing the stands as the Champions League anthem rang out through the stadium. You searched the VIP area around the benches for Mason’s familiar face, but you were quickly overwhelmed by the number of people staring back at you. You closed your eyes, dropping your chin to your chest as you tried to keep yourself focused on the game ahead of you as you waited out the rest of the anthem.

“You’re safe. It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

Mason’s words from your first encounter with him rang through your head, settling your nerves. The anthem soon ended, and your eyes snapped open, a renewed sense of determination and focus washing over you as you followed your teammates down the line. You shook hands with the refs and the opposing players as you held an unreadable expression on your face.

You entered a quick huddle with the starters on the field, and then assumed your starting position, bouncing on your toes and getting some last-minute stretching in before the whistle.

And then the game began.

The first 90 minutes passed by in a blur. Sprinting across the field from end to end. Volleys, headers, through balls, crosses. Nothing landed until the opposing team scored just moments after halftime. Your heart had sunk in your chest, afraid the momentum would drive them to another goal. Instead, 15 minutes later with a cross from you, your teammate put the ball in the back of the net to tie the game.

And that’s how the score remained. One to one. And so extra time began.

Again, the opposing team score only a few minutes into extra time, and you spent the rest of extra time playing from behind. You noticed that your extra training had paid off, significantly improving your endurance as you weren’t wearing down alongside your teammates.

With two minutes left, your teammate passed a well-timed ball through the defensive line. You broke away from the defense, praying that you timed your run well enough to remain onsides. Settling the ball at your feet, you set into a dead sprint downfield, carrying the ball with you. You had left the opposing players far behind you. Only the keeper stood between you and the goal that would send the game to penalties.

You dribbled and ran as fast as your legs would carry you. The growing roar of the crowd sounded muffled and distant in your ears as you only focused on the space in front of you. The keeper ran out from the goal, crouched low and arms wide as she attempted to cut you off from a shot.

Planting your foot, you time your kick well, curling the ball just barely beyond the fingertips of the keeper as she dove. The ball curved, and time seemed to slow down as it rolled toward the net.

The crowd erupted as the ball rolled over the line, crashing into the back of the net for a goal. The game was tied.

You didn’t even have it left in you to do a grand celebration, standing in place, panting, until the rest of your girls surrounded you, cheering and shouting excitedly.

You breathed a short sigh of relief, happy to have tied the game, but your mind turned immediately to the penalty kicks that would soon come.

Everyone lined back up on their own sides and the opposing team kicked off the ball. It was mere moments before the whistle was blown, signaling that extra time had ended.

The game would go to penalties.

After a short break, both teams were lined up at the centerline awaiting the first penalty. You were repeatedly running through the order for penalty takers in your mind—you were to go last, and you prayed that you wouldn’t have to take one at all.

The opposing team took their penalty first. You watched carefully as she placed the ball on the spot in the box. The ref spoke briefly with the player and the keeper before backing away from the scene. A long moment. The whistle blew. You held your breath as she took three steps toward the ball.

The ball swished in the back of the net as the opposing team made their first penalty.

Your first teammate in the lineup stepped up to take her shot. The same routine followed. And your team had converted their first penalty.

After the first penalty for each side, you were tied 1 to 1.

And so it continued. A shot. A goal. Another shot. The keeper blocked the third penalty for your team, leaving you lagging behind, 2 to 3. The opposing team missed their next penalty. Your team made yours.

And so it came down to the last penalty, tied 3 to 3. The final shots would decide the game.

The opposing player stepped up, and, though you felt a little guilty about it, you silently hoped she would sail the ball completely over the goal.

The whistle blew. The player made her approach. The shot was good—a fast ball to the lower left corner.

But the keeper had read her approach perfectly. She dove in the right direction, extending her arms above her head. You once again held your breath as the ball soared toward her, and…

It was saved.

The stadium erupted again in celebration of the save. Meanwhile, the frenzy of nerves settled in the pit of your stomach.

Once again, the dreams of the Manchester United Women all came down to you.

You stepped away from your teammates at the centerline, beginning the long walk toward the goal. You passed the opposing player who had just missed her shot, but you kept your eyes focused straight ahead, refusing to let her get into your head.

From the stands, Mason watched as you strode across the field. His hands were placed on top of his head, and he was rocking back and forth on his feet. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this nervous. It’s not that he doubted your abilities—not even for a second. He’s just pleading, in his mind, that you don’t get in your own head and let it interfere with you doing what he knows you’re capable of.

You take the ball from the referee’s hands and place it down on the penalty spot.

All you need to do is make this. Make it, and the game is over. Make it, and you win the Champions League for your team.

You take four steps back from the ball, following the same routine you’ve practiced thousands of times before. From your childhood, all the way to the recent weeks, practicing with Mason as your hopeless keeper.

You bounced on your toes, eyes flashing between the ball and the goal as you weighed your options.

The whistle blew.

You stepped forward, leaning into the movement. Three steps and then you planted your foot next to the ball. You swung through the kick, twisting your hips to give it more power.

The ball soared high through the air, toward the top right corner of the goal, and a hush fell over the crowd.

Time seemed to be moving in slow motion as the ball flew, end over end.

The keeper read your movement, diving in the direction of your shot.

Her fingers narrowly missed contact with the ball as it crashed into the top corner of the goal.

You made it. You made the shot.

The emotions of the last month or two came crashing down on you all at once. You dropped to your knees, a loud cry leaving your lips that was completely overpowered by the roaring of the fans.

You had won the Champions League.

You dropped your head in your hands as you sat on the grass, sobs wracking your body. The crowd was deafening.

In an instant, your teammates were surrounding you, their cheers and yells overlapping. They surrounded you, hugging you, piling on top of one another. Some of them were crying, too.

You couldn’t put into words what you were feeling. Relief, elation, pride. All of that and more.

Eventually, you untangled yourself from the dogpile of your teammates, and you had to take a moment in the tunnel to compose yourself.

The next hour passed by in a blur. You lost count of how many people you hugged. Cameras flashed in your face everywhere you looked. Awards were presented and your heart swelled with pride as they handed you the Golden Boot for your achievements in the tournament.

Finally, you stood on the stage, medal around your neck, crowded by your teammates as the captain approached with the trophy. The moment the trophy was lifted into the air, the entire team erupted in a chorus of cheering and screaming. In that moment, all of the stress, hard work, pressure, and anxiety of the last few months finally felt worth it.

With the trophy in hand, numerous more photos were in order and, after the exertion and stress of playing 120 minutes, the exhaustion was beginning to wear down on you.

At long last, the family members of the players were allowed on the field, and the grass slowly began to grow more crowded.

But there was only one person you were looking for.

You moved slowly through the crowd, eyes shifting back and for as you searched for Mason’s familiar face. Someone had taken your golden boot, putting it somewhere for safe keeping so it could be sent to your home.

When you finally set eyes on him, it felt like time stopped. He hadn’t spotted you yet, standing on his tiptoes and leaning to try to peer through the crowd, wearing a red jersey that matched your own. You froze, for a moment, admiring his side profile—the soft curve of his nose, the way his lips were slightly parted as his eyes searched for you, the way his hair fell softly against his forehead.

You were finally seeing him in a way that you hadn’t allowed yourself to for these last few weeks.

Your heart fluttered when he turned away from you and you noticed your last name printed across his shoulders.

He turned back in your direction and you knew instantly when he had spotted you because his face lit up, a smile spread across his cheeks. You immediately took off running in his direction, and he did the same to meet you in the middle.

When you finally reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, wrapping yours tightly around his neck. He held you tightly around your abdomen, spinning you in a circle as he lifted you off of your feet.

“You did it, Y/N!” he exclaimed, and you could hear the smile in his voice. He set you back down on your feet, pulling back to look at your face. “You showed everyone what you’re capable of, just like I knew you would. I’m so proud of you.”

In that moment you were overcome by so many emotions—excitement about your victory, gratitude for everything he’d done for you in the last month, and your head was spinning from how close his face was to yours.

“You were absolutely incredible out there! I couldn’t believe—”

You did the only thing your brain could think of in that moment and placed both hands on the collar of his shirt, pulling him down so you could press your lips to his in a long-overdue kiss. Your fingers moved to thread through the hair on the back of his head, pulling him in closer, if that was even possible. His arms squeezed more tightly around you as he kissed you back, moving his mouth against yours.

After a few moments, you pulled away. You were both breathless and panting for air. Mason pressed his forehead to yours, and it reminded you of that first day when he did the same thing.

The realization of what you had just done dawned on you, and you felt the blush rushing into your cheeks. You tucked your head into Mason’s neck, but you could feel his chest shake with a laugh, clearly just as surprised and pleased by the kiss as you were.

After a moment, you mustered the courage to lift your head, looking up at Mason’s face. His cheeks are pink and the biggest grin is plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” you struggled to string your words together. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for weeks and—”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off, running his hand soothingly up and down your back. “Me, too.”

The two of you stood there, mulling over the implications of your actions and your words. He continued to hold you close, your arms wrapped around his neck, faces pressed close together.

“Thank you, Mason,” you spoke softly, feeling like you were the only two people in the whole stadium. Mason raised his eyebrows in question. “For being here tonight. For everything you’ve done for me these last few weeks. I wouldn’t have made it without you. Tonight would have gone a lot differently.”

Mason shook his head at your words. “I was happy to do what I could to help, but you did this entirely because of your own talents and hard work. I’m just glad I got to be here to see it all take place.”

You blushed again at his words of admiration.

“Everyone is gonna go nuts when the media outlets get a hold of this—of us,” you whispered.

“Let them talk. I couldn’t care less,” he smiled down at you. “I just really want to kiss you again.”

So with a hand on the back of his neck, you met his lips with yours, feeling like life couldn’t possibly be more perfect than in this very moment.

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #footballer fic #footballer imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount angst #mason mount blurb #chelsea fc

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raphoupix · 5 months

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Ben White - Arsenal FC - Training

#ben white #arsenal fc #gunners #training session #ucl #champions league #uefa champions league #football #footballers #soccer #footballer #premier league #england nt

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sp4ceqtown · 1 year

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Attitude - Kylian Mbappé

Kylian stepped through the door of his apartment, feeling exhausted and irritable after a grueling day of training. He dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, not bothering to take off his shoes before making his way to the living room.

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone. You looked up as Kylian entered, but your smile faded when you saw the expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his mood.

"Nothing," Kylian said shortly, pulling off his training jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

You frowned, feeling hurt by his dismissive tone. "Are you sure?" You said. "You seem really grumpy."

Kylian sighed heavily. "I'm just tired, okay? Can't you leave me alone for a little while?"

Your eyes narrowed. "Excuse me? I'm just trying to talk to you. You don't have to be so rude."

Kylian bristled. "I'm not being rude. I'm just tired, okay? Why do you have to make everything into a big deal?"

The argument escalated from there, with Kylian continuing to snap at you and you becoming increasingly upset. But as the tension in the room mounted, Kylian gradually began to realize that he was being unfair.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, taking a deep breath. "I shouldn't have taken my bad mood out on you. That wasn't fair."

You looked at him skeptically for a moment, but then your expression softened. "It's okay," you said, your voice gentle. "I know you're under a lot of pressure right now.

Kylian nodded gratefully, feeling the tension in his body beginning to dissipate. He joined you on the couch and you both cuddled up together under a blanket, watching a movie and enjoying each other's company.

As you relaxed together, Kylian felt a sense of gratitude wash over him. He knew that he was lucky to have someone so patient and understanding in his life, and he made a silent vow to never take you for granted again.

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Author's Note :

wrote this while watching UEFA Champions League 2018! School starts tomorrow... I hope you enjoyed this! Please send me some requests<3

- Megi.

#sp4ceqtown #football x reader #football #football imagine #new blog #spotify #blurb #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #kylian x you #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #paris saint germain #kylian psg #psg #psg kylian #psg kylian blurb #i hope you have a great day/night!

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pernillecfcw · 1 year

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Preparation for the CL 🖤

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ourkostastsimikas · 2 years

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Kostas training with the Greece NT

via @team.tsimikas on Instagram

#liverpool fc #lfc #kostas tsimikas #greek scouser #scouser greek #training #greece nt #greece national football team #uefa nations league

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avenirdelight · 8 months

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England NT — Random moments from Three Lions training | UEFA EURO 2024 Qualifiers | September 2023 | PART 1

#england nt #england national team #euro 2024 qualifiers camp #september 2023 camp #inside training #england training #kalvin phillips #james maddison #jude bellingham #aaron ramsdale #harry kane #jordan henderson #declan rice #kyle walker #callum wilson #marcus rashford #ben chilwell

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redhairedwolfwitch · 1 year

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Old Home versus New Home - Barcelona Femení x Reader

You probably should have been paying attention to the screen streaming the UEFA Women's Champions League group stage draw, but instead you were staring into space, hoping that Barcelona would not play against one team in particular.

That one team, who you assumed were fully aware of why you had requested a transfer. After the person you were dating admitted to still being in love with her ex, left your apartment shortly after breaking up with you. The last thing she said was ‘see you at training’ as you stood in your living room, frozen. Your heart shattering into pieces as she shut the door behind her, leaving her key on the side table.

Just thinking about that team sent you back into that moment, standing in the living room frozen until warm tears dripping down your cheeks felt so uncomfortable that you swiped at your face.

But you weren’t there. You weren’t in London anymore either. Instead, you’re in Barcelona sitting on a chair, watching the group stage draw, with your teammates, including your best friend, who was currently looking at you with both worry and shock.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced at the screen but it was already moving on to the next pot of clubs.

“Your ex plays for Arsenal?” Ingrid asked, but she already knew the answer as you glanced at the screen, spotting that Barcelona had been selected into group C, and two other clubs were selected already. Hoffenheim, and… Arsenal.

A groan left your lips as you slid down the seat, covering your face with your hands.

“I’m going to get my ankles broken.”

“But she broke up with you?” Ingrid whispered, hurrying over to sit next to you instead of where she’d been sat before, everyone else paying more attention to the stream until the talking got louder.

“I don’t know what she told the team, so any one of them could break my ankles.” You replied, pulling your hands away from your face as Ingrid pulled you into a hug.

“I could break her ankles first? Wait… or we could ask Mapi to break her ankles?” Ingrid looked over at Mapi, who immediately looked over in confusion at you both.

“I’m not asking Mapi to break my ex’s ankles, it’s not worth the card.” You deadpanned, but Mapi was hurrying over, a few teammates complaining as she obscured the livestream on her way over.

“Whose ankles?” Mapi asked but you shook your head, even as Ingrid frowned.

“She broke your heart.”

“She broke your heart? I will break her ankles! Whose ankles am I breaking?” Mapi immediately grew more excited at the idea of revenge, looking between you and Ingrid, Ingrid looking at you as you rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“It’s not worth getting carded breaking my ex’s ankles when we play Arsenal.” You replied, realising your mistake as Mapi scrambled to get up the Arsenal roster on her phone.

“It’s not worth it.” You whispered to Ingrid, but you knew she knew better. She was your best friend and had picked up the pieces of your heart that Jordan broke.

“Mapi, stop listing names, I’m not telling you. We didn’t even go public anyway… no you can’t just break all of the Arsenal squad’s ankles and hope you get my ex… even if she was the reason I left Arsenal. She confessed she was still in love with her ex, and they’re probably back together now. I don’t know, I blocked them both.” You explained, playing with your hands as Ingrid frowned, gently taking your hands in hers, Mapi was still on her phone but looking overwhelmed at the idea of taking out all of Arsenal by herself.

“Meli! Ven aquí!”

You let out a groan as Leila sat down with you three, looking confused until Mapi began to explain.

“You asked for a transfer?” Mapi asked, continuing her relay of what had happened.

“Well, first I cried, threw all of her stuff she’d left in a box to throw in the bin, deleted everything from my phone, called my agent asking for a transfer, booked a plane ticket to Germany, then cried some more.” You explained, listing off each thing you’d done after Jordan shut the door behind her.

“You threw away her stuff?” Ingrid frowned, looking confused as you frowned back, realising you’d left that out.

“Well, I wasn’t going to set it on fire… but she picked it up from the bin so, yeah. I needed to get out of London, and you were in Wolfsburg.” You explained, which explained to your Barcelona teammates why you had been photographed so much in Germany before your contract with Arsenal was revealed to the public as not being renewed. Your agent had spoken with Arsenal, and in the end, they let you leave, and you left the WSL too. The final result being you and Ingrid joining Barcelona after both receiving an offer from the club.

“Can we kill her?”

“We break her ankles-”

“No breaking my ex’s ankles, or her ex’s ankles, I see you considering it, Mapi!” You declared, interrupting Leila and Mapi’s scheming before a hand landed on your shoulder.

“I will score on them, for you.” Jenni declared, hugging you into her as you realised the rest of the team had been listening since the stream ended a while ago.

“Not worth the cards.” You warned Mapi and Leila, but your glare faded as you spotted the look on some of your team’s faces.

“Can you all focus on international duty and not my ex, please! We don’t even play Arsenal until next month!” You retorted, letting out a breath as Alexia nodded in agreement and began to speak, calming everyone down.

Leaning into Ingrid, your eyes lingered on another midfielder for a second, watching her facial expressions before you smiled to yourself then looked down at your hands shyly.

///

Every upcoming Barcelona game meant the Champions League group stages games were getting closer, and soon Arsenal would be making their way to the Estadi for the first leg.

It wasn’t unnoticed how your foot would bounce rhythmically against the floor, only stopping when you were on the pitch, getting an assist in for Lieke to score the eighth goal of the match against Villarreal. The game against Alavés four days later, you played with a strange aura or energy around you, an intensity that threw off the opposing team, as if you were playing your final game.

“We are not going to let them hurt you.”

“You played against McCabe before?” You asked but Ingrid rolled her eyes.

“You train against Mapi.” She deadpanned, pulling you into a hug in the middle of the locker room at half-time.

You and Ingrid ended up both being subbed off at the 46th minute for Patri and Alexia to come on, leaving you to try to calm your breathing on the bench.

“Next time I could be on the pitch for a match, it’s against Arsenal.” You realised, your hands shaking until you ended up sitting on them, Ingrid wrapping her arm around you to give you a side-hug on the bench.

“They will not hurt you. The team will not let them.” Ingrid whispered, holding you in her arms as you leaned into her, watching the game against Alavés carefully. You didn’t realise your foot was bouncing again until a hand gently rested on your knee, Irene meeting your eye for a moment before she continued to watch the game.

///

Two days after the match against Alavés, a day before Arsenal made their way to the Estadi to play Barcelona, you were curled up under a blanket, phone to the side of you as you’d given up trying to answer your texts. The words on the screen were unreadable, the screen itself was too bright and you were overwhelmed, hearing your heartbeat pound in your ears.

A knock at the door broke you from your thoughts as you got up, keeping your blanket around you as you made your way over to the door, glancing through the peephole to see who was there before opening it.

“Don’t you two have a date or something?” Your voice was croaky, but Ingrid shook her head, leading you back inside, asking Mapi to grab you a drink from the fridge as she brought you back to your couch.

“Checking in on you, before tomorrow.” Ingrid explained, chuckling as you kept the blanket around you like a cape. Mapi returned after a minute of trying to figure out your fridge, passing you the glass.

“Thanks… I think? What even is this?” you grimaced as you took a sip, confused about what Mapi had found in your fridge.

Another knock at the door had you passing the glass to Ingrid, who shared a similar grimace to you as she tried the drink, Mapi shrugging as she admitted she just grabbed the first thing she saw.

“Did you text the team my address?” You called into the living room, opening your front door to reveal Jenni, Alexia, Aitana and Laia.

“What is this? Squad meeting at my place?” You deadpanned, letting the four players inside. You were about to shut the door when you heard another knock, opening the door to find Patri and Clàudia had arrived too.

“Anyone else behind you?” You enquired, ushering in the two before you stuck your head out the door, spotting Leila making her way down the corridor.

“Ouahabi, vamos!” you called out, raising an eyebrow as Leila hurried down the corridor over to you.

“Anyone else?” you waited, but Leila shrugged, checking her phone.

“The others are parking.”

“Good luck to them… that car park is the worst, even when you live in the building.” You replied, closing the door as Leila headed to join the others in your living room.

“Wow, this looks like an intervention.”

“You watch too much TV.” Ingrid chuckled, passing you the glass from before.

“Why are you giving me this? It’s- did someone drink some of it?” you glanced up from the glass to around the room, seeing no indication of who had tried to drink whatever Mapi had found in your fridge.

“Whatever… wait, Mapi- did you, did you pour a glass of pickle juice? Honestly if you wanted to poison me and get me out of tomorrow’s game you could have given me a heads up first… but I’m also glad you didn’t try making a drink out of my face masks…” you walked into your kitchen and back, holding up the bottle of pickle juice that had Mapi’s jaw dropping in panic.

“No, no!” Mapi began, standing up to argue but she was interrupted by a knock at the door, watching as you walked over to let in Caro, Torre, Irene and Frido.

“What did we miss?” Torre jokes, not expecting your answer as you glanced at your best friend’s girlfriend.

“León tried to poison me.” Hiding your smirk in your blanket cape as the newly arrived four turned to Mapi.

“Qué?”

“We agreed to cheer up, not poison!”

“Why do you even have pickle juice?”

“Martinis?”

“Salads.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes at your teammates as they started to argue amongst themselves about how they were here to cheer you up.

Your eyes lingered over the four midfielders in your living room (lingering on one specific one for a moment longer) a slight frown on your face as you ran over everything in your head that you had been thinking about earlier.

Jordan was a midfielder, so the defenders needed to handle her, whilst you and your fellow forwards would be put into the path of Arsenal’s defenders, including Leah.

“We know you are anxious about your ex-”

“It’s not that. She’s not going to hurt me, but her team could hurt one of you, and I don’t want to see that. I don’t care if my leg gets broken, I’m concussed or even worse, my ACL tears. Cards are going to fly tomorrow and I am terrified one of you is going to go off that field on a gurney. I got my heart broken in London, but it healed in Barcelona.” You played with your fingers, not daring to look up at anyone as you finally said what had been bugging you.

“Although the defence is going to be a nightmare since my ex’s ex, the ex that she dumped me for because she was still in love with her, is a defender… so yay!” you sarcastically clapped, glancing around for a place to sit but your teammates were even sitting on your coffee table at this point, so… you were stuck standing.

Your gaze was glued to the floor as you heard someone stand up, arms wrapping around you and your blanket cape as you hugged whoever it was back. Only when you noticed who was missing from the teammates on your couch did you see Ingrid smirking and wiggling her eyebrows not subtly. Your face burned as you realised it was a certain midfielder hugging you, burying it in her shoulder as more of your teammates stood up to hug you both.

///

The day arrived. The first leg Barcelona versus Arsenal in the group stages of the UWCL, at the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

You sat on the dressing room floor, holding your knees up to your chest as you waited for time to go by and the match to start. Ingrid reached over to pat your shoulder, followed by Mapi offering to break your ex’s ankles again, if you told her who your ex was. Shaking your head, you whispered the same thing you said during the group stage draw, “not worth the card,” glancing up to meet the soft smile of your crush, smiling back to her.

Rolling back your shoulders, you straightened your spine as Alexia walked over and crouched down to meet your level, “Are you okay to play?”

Your gaze drifted over Alexia’s shoulder for a moment as you debated her question, nodding to her but you only looked your captain in the eye when her hand gently rested on your knee.

“I’ll be okay.”

Alexia tutted slightly as she realised where you were looking at, or who.

“Your type is midfielders, eh?” Alexia whispered, smirking as your head snapped towards her, eyes widening in alarm.

“Stop staring at her.” Alexia warned you quietly, posture softening when you looked down at your boots, feeling your face burn.

“I’ll be okay,” your voice was quiet but Alexia could feel the fire in your tone, you were ready to fight for your teammates at Barcelona, because they were your family now.

///

Walking out onto the pitch, the Estadi was full of Barcelona and Arsenal fans, but you kept your gaze focussed, not letting it wander onto Jordan or Leah at all. All the eyes on you blurred together as you blocked out any possible ex-teammates trying to meet your gaze, standing in line with your hands behind your back.

The match was a complete mess, more for Arsenal than Barcelona, but you knew from the first yellow card that this game was not going to end well. Mariona and Alexia both had a goal by the end of the first half, so Barcelona were leading 2-0, with McCabe getting the first card of the match for taking down Alexia.

Wiping your face with your jersey, you glanced up as Leila caught your arm, gesturing to the Arsenal squad on the field in wonder. Clearly she had been spying whilst sitting on the bench.

“¡No hay tobillos!”

Leila grimaced at your Spanish, plus what you had said in it, basically telling her ‘no ankles!’ instead of what you really meant, warning her to break none of the Arsenal players’ ankles.

“She’s not on the field anyway, just her ex…” you whispered hurriedly to Leila, who immediately ushered you towards the locker room, and Mapi.

The second half began and you had already warned your teammates to watch it, and not get on the wrong side of your ex’s ex, in Arsenal’s defensive line. One minute into the second half, Irene had a yellow card, but one minute later, Mariona was assisting Asisat with Barcelona’s third goal of the match.

Beth yeeting Mariona wasn’t something you thought you’d see in a match, but the yellow card she received for it was something you expected, before being substituted off for Tobin Heath, and Viv being substituted off for Caitlin, whilst Katie was substituted off for Nikita.

More substitutions occurred before Frida Maanum managed to break your team’s clean sheet, assisted by Tobin. One significant substitution left you stumbling slightly into the arms of one of your midfielders, who looked at you in confusion as you mumbled you were fine, but Jordan was now on the pitch. Foord’s yellow card was for taking Alexia down too, leaving you tapping your foot against the pitch nervously, watching carefully as Alexia got up.

Frido came on for Ana, Mana came on for Kim, four minutes later, Bruna came on for Mariona. Patri assisted Lieke in the fourth goal of the match for Barcelona at the 84th minute, whilst Arsenal’s new manager was also given a yellow card.

Alexia going down in the penalty box by means of Jordan’s mistimed tackle (although she may have not even touched her, you couldn’t see well), you ran your hands down your face, wondering how the hell Alexia was getting up every time, but another thing was on your mind, too bad Jordan was too close to you and overheard.

“What the fuck is this game?”

“You tell me!” Jordan grumbled back, not seeing the attention she had gathered as Mapi’s eyes widened, spotting the tension between you and Jordan, the tension increasing as Leah walked over. You ended up standing between Leah and Jordan as Alexia took the penalty, but Zinsberger stopped it.

“¿Qué?” you whispered, watching as Nikita ended up with a yellow card just before the game ended.

Barcelona had won 4-1, and Jordan and Leah both looked annoyed, but went around offering high-fives anyway.

You froze as Jordan met your eyes, heading towards you until arms flung themselves over your shoulders, legs wrapping around your waist as you caught whoever had just thrown herself on your back for a piggy-back. You knew her laugh anywhere, sending the butterflies in your stomach into a flurry of excitement, your crush unknowingly just saved you from having to talk to your ex after beating her and her team, your ex-team, in a Champion’s League group stage match.

“Good game, yes? Vamos!” Aitana grinned, gesturing for you to walk around as she stayed on your back, grinning as you headed towards Mapi and Ingrid.

Your best friend smiled broadly as she took in the flustered grin on your face as you carried Aitana on your back, the midfielder resting her head on yours as she conversed with Mapi, giving Ingrid time to wiggle her eyebrows again, teasing you gently as you met her gaze. Your eyes widened in alarm in case Mapi or Aitana noticed the action, but your crush on Aitana went hidden from everyone but Ingrid and Alexia, confirming what your captain had theorised before the match.

Your type really was midfielders.

#barcelona femeni x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni imagines

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