#footballffbarbiex summer writing challenge

[avenirdelight]

Swipe Right

Dominic Calvert-Lewin

Written for @footballffbarbiex’s summer writing challenge. Prompt: Her getting stood up on a tinder date but he buys her a drink and asks if he can keep her company.

If only she hadn't fallen for the temptation of getting a boyfriend off of the internet like her friend had done, she wouldn't be here right now. If only she hadn't downloaded that doomed app, started talking to this one person she'd matched with, and said yes when he'd asked her to meet up two weeks later, she wouldn't be here.

But here she was, in a busy café in central London, all alone, because her Tinder date had not shown up.

It had been one hour since their appointed time; her coffee had long gone cold. As the time passed, she felt like it was getting colder. No, it wasn't really cold there, the heater worked perfectly fine. She just envied people around her, sharing joyous laughs, keeping the conversations going as they held each other's hands, leaning their heads together because the stories they were telling warmed their hearts.

She would've told her Tinder date a funny story from high school that she had been wanting to tell him, she knew he would've loved it. They would've been laughing together too right now, if he had shown up.

When she had passed the one hour mark, her own time limit to wait for people, she decided to send him a text again. It was not delivered this time and she started to feel her heart sinking. Five minutes later, she tried to give him a call. His number was not active.

She cursed under her breath, feeling like a complete idiot. She could've been in her room, watching his favorite band's online concert, rather than being here feeling embarrassed. People had probably noticed her sitting alone for a whole hour, looking so miserable on this Saturday night because her date didn't show up.

She was contemplating whether to just go home or stay here and order some food. She couldn't ignore her grumbling stomach anymore, but the thought of going home and crying out this unnecessary heartbreak on her bed was far more appealing.

But a voice, a polite 'excuse me', interrupted her train of thoughts. She immediately looked up to see where the voice came from.

"Hi, sorry. I hope I'm not creeping you out, but you look like you could use a company."

Beautiful curly hair, bright eyes, pretty lips, thick eyebrows, gorgeous eyelashes. And there was a very sweet smile spread across his face, making him look harmless in every way possible.

Okay. If this guy was on Tinder, she would definitely swipe right.

She unintentionally let a few seconds pass as she tried to register his words on her mind, not realising that she was staring at him rather judgingly for a little bit too long.

"Unless you're still waiting for someone," he blurted it out so fast. "I'm sorry. You clearly don't want to be bothered. I'll just—"

"No, no. It's okay. I'm not waiting for anyone. The seat is not taken," she said, glancing at the empty chair in front of her, signalling that he was welcomed to occupy it.

The smile on his face got a little bit wider, before he excitedly took the seat in front of her, his hair bouncing as he moved.

"I don't usually do this, approaching a stranger," he scratched his temple as his nervousness started to finally show.

"I don't usually do this too, letting a stranger approach me," her lips twitched into a small smile.

"Yeah, but, uhm— You look very nice in this purple blouse. I don't even like purple, it's my least favourite colour, but they look good on you. And your hair pin is beautiful."

Maybe what he meant was 'you're so pretty', but well, she'd take it.

"Anyway, what I mean to say is, I don't think I'd miss the chance to talk to someone who can make me like the colour purple."

She felt her cheeks getting warmer, and she knew he would notice it because her cheeks would quickly get as red as an apple every time she got shy. It was proven by the way he slightly pursed his lips, eyes squinting a little bit as he tried not to chuckle.

"I'm Dominic, by the way," he extended his hand and she took it. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt their hands touch as she said her name. "Can I buy you a drink? Or anything you want, really."

"I've got to be honest, I haven't had my dinner and my stomach is killing me right now."

"So rude of that person who let you wait for so long— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he corrected himself quickly, seeing the swift change of look on her face as the shyness was replaced by embarrassment.

"It's okay, it's the truth," she shrugged, trying to compose herself. "Just embarrassed. I noticed some people staring at me, they must be feeling sorry for me sitting here alone."

"Not anymore now." His infectious smile made an appearance again, bringing back her smile to her face.

Dominic was nice, giving her his recommendations from the menu, claiming that he had been coming here for years and it was one of his favourite places in town. The conversations between them went rather smoothly; he started by randomly asking her about her favourite holiday destinations and fifteen minutes later the discussion changed to their latest watched movies.

Maybe it was silly of her, getting stood up by a stranger from the internet that she had trusted too quickly, but trusted another complete stranger to burst her social bubble right away. But the vibe that this guy was giving off was different. She had had her experiences. From his first hello, she knew that he definitely was not one of those flirty and cocky boys that was just going to dump her after they had their fun. 

As the night fell deeper, they got more comfortable with each other. They were deep in conversations until the closing time was near. The little voices in their heads were wishing that they could spend more time with each other, and they both knew that the choices were in their hands.

So when Dom asked her "Let's go somewhere else, what do you say? I know a nice place not far away from here", she didn't think twice to say yes.

—

finally writing for dom! and i’m so happy to participate on this writing challenge! i started writing this a month ago and left it and came back to it a couple of times until last week... i hope you guys like this one🤍

here’s other pieces that i wrote for this challenge: chilly’s protocols & mason’s gaffer’s in law

please leave comments or give me feedbacks through my asks or dms, i’d love to know what you think, i’d really appreciate it! thank you!

My Masterlist🤍

[emwritesfootball]

Dirty Little Secret | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

It's midnight PST which means I'm so far past the deadline for @footballffbarbiex's Summer Writing Challenge but I don't really care. Please enjoy the millionth version of 'sneaking around with a rival' but with DCL. This one's for the babes: @sweetlikesugar9 @dclsbaby @domspeach

Word Count: 3,610

Warnings: light mentions of smut, sneaking around

- - -

Your phone felt heavy in your pocket. You wanted so badly to pull it out and reread the text you’d been sent an hour ago, but then Jordan would be suspicious and you didn’t want to try to cobble together some half-assed explanation that would ultimately end in disaster.

“Are you listening to me?” Jordan asked, huffing your name in frustration. “I swear, you’ve been spacy for the last week. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, rolling your eyes. Jordan gave you a disbelieving look, so you elaborated, “Work has been kicking my ass and I’m annoyed, okay? I know it’ll pass, but I’d just like it if you let me handle it on my own.”

Jordan’s face softened. “I’m sorry. And I won’t, alright?” When you nodded, he continued, “But you know that if you ever need me to step in and use my name, I will.”

“I know,” you said, giving him a teary-eyed smile. “You know how much I don’t want that, but if it comes down to it, I’ll let you know.”

“It’s just...you’re my little sister, and I worry about you.” Jordan wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah, yeah - I appreciate it.” You paused, finally remembering the conversation from earlier. “Wait, you were saying something about England?”

Jordan smiled, launching into the conversation. “I just got the call from Southgate today. He told me I’ll be part of this upcoming England squad.”

“What?! Jordan, that’s incredible!” You squealed, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks. I was hoping I’d get the call-up, but with each camp, you never know. And I get older every year and-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you scoffed, waving him off. “You’ve done so much for the club and you deserve this. Take the win and move on.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know.”

You giggled, shoving him playfully. “It feels weird to be the one dispensing life advice to my older brother, so don’t worry, it’s just as weird for me, too.”

You left Jordan’s place a little while later, promising to help him plan an England get-together once the rest of the squad was announced.

Once you were back home, you finally pulled up the text you’d been both excited for and dreading about replying to.

Dominic: When can I see you again?

Just as you started typing, the three dots on his end popped up and you couldn’t help the rush of excitement that pooled in your belly when his latest text came through.

Dominic: I just got good news. Come over and celebrate?

You: I’m on my way

***

The moment Dom opened his front door, his lips were on yours. He pinned you against the door, kissing you hungrily as his hands slid up your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, loving the way his body fit against yours as he swallowed the sound.

“What…” Your thought was cut off as Dom sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck. “What was the good news?”u

“Later,” Dom hummed, nibbling on your earlobe. “I wanna celebrate first.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” You giggled, the sound quickly turning to a breathy whimper as one of Dom’s hands slid between your legs. “Fuck, Dom! It makes sense - please just take me to bed.”

Dom smirked, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed, kneeling between your legs as he started to undress you. It had only been a little over a month since the two of you started sleeping together, but neither of you could get enough of each other.

Your name was on his lips as he sucked a mark into your hip, watching as you dug your heels into the mattress while he kissed his way up your inner thighs before sucking on your clit and making you cry out. “You’re always so responsive for me,” he praised, chuckling as he slid two fingers inside you. “So sexy.”

“Please, Dom!” You whimpered, burying your fingers in his curls. “Please make me cum already!”

He responded to your pleas, flipping you over onto your stomach and driving his cock into you. One hand was around your throat, the other smacking your ass as pure filth spewed from his mouth with every thrust. Dom made you feel dirty in the best possible ways and it wasn’t long before you were cumming around his cock, feeling his cum coat your inner walls as he released his own orgasm inside you.

“So, what’s the news?” You asked as you cuddled with Dom, your head on your chest with one hand tracing patterns across his forearm.

“I can’t believe I almost forgot - I got called up to the England squad for this upcoming run of matches.”

He said it so casually that you almost didn’t register what he’d said. “Wait, what?”

“I got another call-up!”

Your stomach bottomed out and you thought you were gonna be sick. “Dom, that’s amazing!” You said, hoping he didn’t notice how preoccupied you sounded.

“Thank you!” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, a much more intimate gesture than the two of you usually did, but you didn’t question it. “You’ll come see me play, right?”

“Of course,” you promised, hoping you sounded sincere.

When he drifted off to sleep, you were still up, your mind racing as you tried to figure out how you were going to tell Dom that you were Jordan Henderson’s baby sister.

***

Anfield. Last Spring.

You flashed your Friends and Family pass to the staff, feeling a bit awkward as you looked for Rebecca and the kids. It wasn’t often that you used the ticket Jordan purchased, preferring the season tickets you’d gotten with friends ages ago on the off-chance you were recognized. The only time you did was for Derby matches, and today was no exception; the ‘Henderson 14’ burning a hole in your back as you took your seat.

The whistle blew and the match began. You were as nervous as you always were during Derby matches, your heart in your throat every time Jordan got the ball. You were always worried something would happen to him on the pitch, what with the countless injuries he’d had over the years.

You cheered along with the rest of the spectators when Mo put one in the back of Pickford’s net a couple minutes outside of the 20th. Richarlison scored moments before the end of the first half, tying it up before the start of the second.

There was a penalty call early on in the second half and your heart stopped as you watched Jordan step up to take it. He hadn’t been in good form to take a pen all season, having missed three of his four pens so far, and you peeked through your fingers, hoping the ball would slot right into the back of the net.

...

It didn’t.

It didn’t, and you were devastated. Suddenly, you didn’t want to be wearing your brother’s jersey anymore. You felt sick as all the friends and family of your brother’s teammates gave you sympathetic pats and hugs while the match wore on.

When Mo scored his second of the night, you screamed until you were hoarse. It wasn’t long after that and the final whistle was blowing and the match ended 2-1 in favour of Liverpool. You hugged Jordan tightly when he finally appeared, giving him a small smile. “Sorry about your pen.”

He stiffened and you instantly knew you’d hit a nerve. Sometimes, he was able to laugh these things off, but tonight apparently wasn’t one of those nights. “Fuck off.”

“You’ll get the next one, I’m sure.” You winced internally as the words came out of your mouth and Jordan’s expression darkened.

Your name was an angry growl on his lips as he said, “If you’re trying to make me feel better, just don’t. I don’t need your sunshine and rainbows opinion - if I want it, I’ll ask, got it?”

His condescending tone ignited your own nerve and you got in his face. “Go to hell, Jordan,” you hissed, your eyes involuntarily welling with tears at the angry confrontation. You turned on your heel and stormed off, ignoring Rebecca’s pleas for you to come back.

You sat in your car, waiting for the tears to subside. It wasn’t often that you fought with him, and to make matters worse, you’d been staying with him for a bit while you looked for a place of your own, so you couldn’t even avoid him at home.

Instead of going home, you headed to your favourite pub. It was low key, and you knew there probably wouldn’t be too many people in there so you could drink in peace. You changed out of the jersey, throwing on a t-shirt you found in the backseat of your car, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself than usual.

“Can I buy the next?” A man’s voice asked, and you turned to find Dominic Calvert-Lewin sitting on the barstool next to yours.

“Sure,” you said, giving him a small smile. “As long as you let me buy the one after that.”

“You’ve heard, I take it?” Dom gave you a sheepish smile, ducking his head and looking away.

“I was there. Thought you had it for a minute there when that pen didn’t go in.”

“Me, too. I had a couple good shots in there, but none of them ended up going in.”

“I saw.” Dom gave you a look at your comment and the two of you burst into giggles. “Sorry, I just had to say it.”

“Clearly, you know who I am,” he started, his gaze raking over your body. “Can I at least get your name? You look so familiar...”

You debated giving him your middle name or a fake name altogether, but ultimately gave him your real name, conveniently leaving out your surname. He rewarded you with a full-blown smile that you felt all the way down to your toes; a smile that made you think about what it would be like to kiss those lips.

A couple hours later, and you didn’t have to wonder what it felt like to kiss him. His lips were on yours in the back of the Uber as the two of you headed back to his place. Another hour after that, and you were discovering all the other things his mouth and hands could do, loving the way his body felt against yours.

When you left in the morning, you felt like you had a secret that was only yours to keep - and Dom’s, of course - but this was you sticking it to your brother by sleeping with one of his rival club’s players while also getting some much-needed sex.

A week later, you were grinning down at your phone as you read Dom’s latest text.

Dom: So, when can I see you again?

***

Jordan’s House, Present Day

“We’ve got everything we need, right?” Jordan asked, frantically looking around his kitchen. The counter was fully-stocked with all the alcohol he could possibly need, there was enough food to feed an army, and everything was as it should be.

“Yes,” Rebecca confirmed, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a kiss. You shut your eyes and made a face, still not used to seeing your brother be intimate with his wife. “Everything’s going to be great. The team should be arriving in about an hour, so don’t go too crazy waiting for them, okay?”

Jordan nodded and you laughed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do that. “Well, if neither of you need me, I’m gonna go nap in the guest room,” you announced. “Wake me if I sleep through my alarm?”

“Sure.”

You went up to the guest room, setting your alarm to give yourself half an hour to get ready for the party.

***

The party was on by the time Dom walked through the door. Someone put a beer in his hands and he made the rounds, catching up with players he hadn’t called teammates since the last call-up.

“Hey!” Hendo shouted, waving at Dom from his lounge chair by the pool. “Calvert-Lewin, as I live and breathe. How are you?”

Dom brought it in for a hug, laughing. “I’m good, I’m good.”

“I’d ask how you’re coping with losing to us yet again in the Derby, but I’m sure you had no problem finding some willing girl to console you.”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve been seeing this girl for a few months now. Hooked up with her the night we lost to you and haven’t really looked back.”

“Good for you. She coming to the matches?”

Dom shrugged. “Not sure yet. Haven’t really done much talking, if you know what I mean.”

Hendo smirked. “Nice.”

Just as Dom was about to say more, Rebecca came running over. “Jordan, have you seen your sister? I think we’re running out of drinks and she said she’d run to the store if we needed her to and well, we need her to.”

“Is she not up from her nap?” Hendo asked, his brows furrowing when Rebecca shrugged. “Okay, can you go see if she’s awake? I’ve kind of got my hands full.”

“Yeah, I-”

“Mummy!” One of the kids ran up to Rebecca, drawing her attention away. “Dom! Good to see you! Can you go wake my sister-in-law?”

“Sure. Where is she?”

Hendo gave him directions and Dom was off, searching for the guest bedroom.

“Hello?” He asked, lightly knocking on the closed door. When he got no response, he turned the handle and opened the door. “Hendo’s sister?”

***

Shit. You’d slept through your alarm and now someone was waking you up. And to make matters worse, they were calling you ‘Hendo’s sister’. “What?” You asked groggily, shifting.

“Your brother needs you.”

The voice sounded familiar but you were too tired to figure out why. “Okay. Can you turn on the light?” The sound of the switch being flipped and the light hit you. “Oh, fuck, that’s bright!” You covered your eyes, blinking rapidly to try to get used to the light.

You heard your name being whispered incredulously and you realized it was Dom standing in front of you.

***

Dom couldn’t believe it. Here you were, standing - well, technically sitting in bed - in front of him and you turned out to be Jordan Henderson’s little sister. “You’re…” He trailed off, unable to say the words.

“Yeah.” You looked down at your hands, not wanting to see the look on his face. “Jordan Henderson is my older brother.” You heard the door shut and you looked up, not expecting him to still be standing in front of you.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Dom asked, his expression blank as he crossed his arm and leaned against the door. “You’ve had plenty of chances to tell me and you haven’t. Why?”

“I just… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling as you struggled to find composure. “Everybody treats me differently when they find out who my brother is, so I don’t exactly go around telling everyone I meet that my brother is… who he is.”

“But we’re sleeping together! Hell, I’ve got you in my bed more than half the nights of the week and you still didn’t think to tell me?!”

“Dom!” You hissed, fear coursing through your veins. You didn’t want anyone to overhear him even though you knew they were probably too busy with the party. “I didn’t think to tell you because I didn’t think we were that serious!”

Dom looked furious. His jaw clenched and he stormed over to you, kneeling on the bed and taking your face in his hands. He kissed you hard, pinning you underneath him and all you could do was loop your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you had. “How’s that for serious?” He asked, breathing heavily as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m here, kissing you in your brother’s house where anyone could discover us, and you don’t think I’m serious.”

“I-I get it now,” you stuttered, smiling at him. “Can we just wait a little while before we tell Jordan about us?”

“Just as long as we tell him before we have to go back to being rivals, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave him one last kiss. “Now you’re really gonna have to leave because I’m pretty sure Jordan didn’t send you here to come into the guest room and kiss me senseless.”

Dom chuckled at that. “He definitely didn’t. Pretty sure Rebecca was saying something about needing you to run and grab more alcohol, too? But the point is that we need to get you out of this bed and to the right people.”

***

You couldn’t stop staring at him. Dom was right across the room, chatting it up with Rice and Mount, laughing with the two footballers. He caught your gaze, giving you a subtle wink before turning back to say something to Rice. You watched him pull his phone out, your own vibrating in your back pocket moments later.

Dom: Meet me in the guest bedroom… Five minutes

You tried to keep the smile off your face, but it was impossible. “Who’s the guy?” Came Rebecca’s voice over your shoulder.

You gasped, hoping she didn’t see Dom’s name at the top of the contacts list before you shut it off. “Uh, nobody? Just a guy I’m sleeping with.”

Rebecca gave you a look. “Just a guy?” She rolled her eyes. “Not with that lovey-dovey look in your eyes, he’s not.”

“Okay, fine,” you sighed. “He’s not just a guy, but I’m not ready to introduce him to you and Jordan, okay? He’s just...not someone I would usually date and I don’t want Jordan to lose his shit, especially with these matches coming up.”

“I see,” Rebecca said wisely, giving you a knowing look. “Just don’t wait too long, because Dominic Calvert-Lewin looks like the kind of man who won’t wait around forever.”

“How did you-?” You asked, incredulous. “Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.”

Rebecca laughed. “Don’t worry - I won’t tell Jordan. That’s something you’ve gotta do.”

***

Two Weeks Later

“We can’t keep doing this,” Dom murmured in-between kisses in one of the empty rooms of Wembley. “Tomorrow’s the last match in this run of friendlies and I wanna catch Hendo on his good side when the two of us aren’t rivals.”

You giggled, the sound morphing into a moan as he kissed your neck. “After the match tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

Dom pulled away, a serious look on his face. “I’m serious. If you don’t tell him after the match tomorrow, I’m not sure I’ll be able to continue this.”

The pit of dread grew in your stomach. You wanted to tell Jordan but you’d never shown an interest in or dated any footballers before, let alone one of his rivals. It was going to be hard to convince him that you were serious about Dom, and for the first time, you realized you were serious about him.

~~~

The day of the match, you were in the stands in your ‘Henderson 8’ kit. The ‘Calvert-Lewin 18’ was underneath, your body tense with the anticipation - fear? - of telling your brother that you and Dom were seeing each other.

All your nerves went out the window the moment Dom came on and scored after less than five minutes of being on the pitch. You were on your feet with the rest of the stadium, cheering on your man as he celebrated with your brother.

The friendly ended England’s way and you were celebrating it like they’d won the World Cup. Without a second thought, you launched yourself into Dom’s arms, both of you giddy as he spun you around before setting you down on the ground and kissing you breathless.

“What the hell?!” Came Jordan’s voice, snapping you and Dom out of your own little world.

“Jordan, it’s-” you started, but your brother was furious.

“No, I don’t wanna hear it. The two of you?!” He glared at Dom. “At my party, were you talking about my sister? To me?! You’ve got some nerve, Dominic.”

Dom held up his hands. “I didn’t know she was your sister at the time, I swear!”

“It’s true: he didn’t,” you backed up your man, threading your fingers through his in a nonverbal show of support. “I knew who he was when I started sleeping with him, but he didn’t know who I was.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what I hate more: that that’s actually believable or that I’m starting to be okay with this.”

“Really?” You asked, your eyes wide. You and Dom shared a look.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to completely love this - at least not for a year or more - but you better not hurt her, Dominic. I’m serious.”

Dom squeezed your hand, nodding with a serious expression. “Yes, sir.”

You held back your giggle at Dom’s response, not wanting to ruin your brother’s good mood. You let go of Dom’s hand to go over and hug Jordan, a bright smile on your face. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me; just make sure he doesn’t hurt you so I don’t have to hurt him.”

An hour later when you met Dom, you couldn’t stop smiling, making sure to stop in front of Wembley to kiss him one more time before he took you out on a proper date in public.

[football-and-fanfics]

This was written for @footballffbarbiex's Writing Challenge. This fic is for the prompts mentioned below, and I have chosen to write it for Kepa. Enjoy! Prompt: "My family really like you, they definitely approve." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx You came from a very traditional, somewhat high-end British family, so when you announced you were in a relationship with a non-Brit ánd a footballer, it caused a few disapproving frowns amongst your family members. Kepa, with his obvious Southern European looks and thick accent, surely wasn't the type of man most of your family had had in mind for you. Both you parents had quickly warmed up to him, though, but at your family's annual garden party today, Kepa would be meeting most of your other family members for the first time. Kepa was quite nervous for the garden party, and so were you. For weeks in advance he asked you to mostly converse with him in English, where you usually spoke Spanish among each other. "You don't have to worry about your English," you told him, doing your best to calm his nerves. Kepa shook his head. "I need to practice. I need to make a good impression on your family." You loosely slung your arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. "I'm sure they're going to like you. How can someone not love this much charm and handsomeness?" Kepa smirked, looking slightly flustered. "I'll do my best." -------------- And Kepa indeed did his best. On the day of the garden party, he made sure to look casual, but mighty sharp. The white, short-sleeved dress shirt he wore perfectly accentuated his tanned skin, and the open collar revealed just the right amount of bare neck and chest. The stylishly cut trousers and pristine white sneakers completed the look, which he topped of with some classy pilot sunglasses. You had to admit: even you were gawking at him. From the moment you arrived at the location of the garden party, you knew your family wouldn't need long to warm up to Kepa. He mingled sociably among your aunts and uncles, was a perfect gentleman for your grandparents, and even played a game of football with a few of your youngest nephews and nieces. Even though he wasn't entirely fluent at English, he did his almighty best to have conversations with as many people as possible. Without realizing it himself, Kepa was the star of the day. Many of your family members came to tell you how much they liked him and how well the two of you fitted together. Each minute the smile on your face grew wider, and it wouldn't be going away any time soon. "So, what do you think? Do they approve of me?" Kepa asked a little hesitantly as you walked back to your car after the party. "Oh, yes," you smiled, "my family really like you. They definitely approve!" "Phew..." Kepa blew out a deep breath of relief. It was a clear sign that this meant just as much to him as it did to you. He gently took your hand in his to stop you from walking, before pulling you close to him and kissing you passionately. "Wow." You chuckled happily when his lips parted from yours after a few seconds. The aftertaste of his kiss was just as warm and sweet as the summer day it was today. "I'm so glad this worked out well." He gave you a confident and satisfied smile. "So am I." You nodded softly, before leaning in for another long and loving kiss. Tags: @glam-khal, @evie-pr, @gryffinwars, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @mmmufc

[footballfanfictions]

Tempted 

Pairings: Erling Haaland/OC, Mats Hummels/OC

Prompt: he’s your/her exes manager (think a player finishing their playing career and moving into coaching)

Author’s note: This gives me such nostalgia to when I first started this blog around 2015 when 90% of the requests and the writing that I did was for Mats and Marco. Thank you for all of the support, I appreciate it now as much as I did back then.

This is part of @footballffbarbiex ‘s summer writing challenge.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Mats

My playing career had come to an end after the European championship in 2021, a tournament where Germany exited in the round of 16 to England of all countries and I came away with an own goal to my name. That tournament was the final nail in the coffin when it came to my playing career but Dortmund had graciously offered to help me take my UEFA coaching badges and I had started to assist the manager in a permanent role with the goal of becoming the first team coach one day.

I had a good relationship with the players, more so the younger ones that hadn’t played alongside me as much. The others, like Marco, found it difficult to accept the power shift from team mate to coach, but the young players adapted well, their respect for me unwavering. 

I had spent more time with Erling than any of the others, wanting to broaden my knowledge beyond what I knew about defending and watching him score goal after goal absolutely mesmerized me but spending time with him off the pitch and seeing the opportunities and freedoms that he had made me want to have my time all over again. 

He had introduced me to his girlfriend Mia after a few weeks of us spending time together socially. She was a tall, tanned brunette and slightly older than Erling at 23 years old. What attracted me to her, if I dare to admit it, even more than her appearance, was her intelligence and meaning no disrespect to my young friend, I simply could not understand why a girl like that would want to be with him. 

----------------------------------------------------

The player’s auction was a bit of fun and was hosted every year for charity. The premise was that people would bid on a player and get to spend a specified amount of time with that player. The younger players usually drew in more money and offered more with some of them even auctioning themselves off for a date or an evening. 

Erling being young and thinking himself the most attractive guy on the planet had offered himself for an entire evening and night.

As I sat across the table from him and Mia I watched her body language, her shoulders hung low and she had a pained expression. Erling was leant back in his chair smiling for the cameras and waving at passers byt, seemingly completely unaware of his partner’s feelings. 

My stomach flipped with uneasiness. The feelings that I had for the young woman were not right and couldn’t be acted upon, even if I wanted nothing more than to take her into my arms and comfort her. 

The lights in the hall dimmed as the auction got underway with Jude Bellingham up first. I knocked back my glass of champagne and tried to steady my nerves, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Erling’s name was called.

To his noticeable relief, Jude was bid on by a sweet looking young woman.

I jokingly bid on Marco when he got up on stage, hoping to drive up his price a little to get the most for our chosen charity, a children’s hospital in the city. He found it funny and encouraged me to keep going but sadly I was outbid. I could really have used an afternoon of Marco’s time, thinking of all the household chores I could have got him to do. 

Erling was up next and my heart sank as I watched him strut up onto the stage and grab the microphone.

“Come on ladies!” he said, firing up the crowd.

The auctioneer had the wrestle the microphone back out of his hands and had barely open the bidding when paddles started to fly into the air.

I watched Mia look around to glare at the tall blonde woman that was now the winning bid. 

I stood and swiftly moved to sit in Erling’s vacant chair and put my hand over hers where it was laying on her paddle. “Don’t bid on him, it’s not worth it and will look odd.” I said quietly.

Her hand relaxed beneath mine but it took me a good few seconds to remove mine, missing the contact almost instantly. 

The bidding continued and there were several quite famous young women bidding on Erling now. I knew of them as they had been linked to some of the other players in the past. 

“This is shit.” she mumbled to the right of me. 

“You don’t have to watch this happen.” I reassured her.

“How bad is it going to look if I walk out now? The cameras will catch it and it will be all over the news tomorrow.” she sighed. 

The bidding finally ended with Erling won by the blonde who confidently strode up onto the stage to claim her prize. She spoke directly to Erling but the microphone in the auctioneer’s hand picked up the whole thing as she said “I’ll be claiming my prize tonight.”

The two of them left the hall hand in hand and the both of us sat in stunned silence for a moment before I told Mia that she should go and escorted her from the room out into the foyer. 

Erling was just disappearing out of the doors into a waiting sports car with the woman as I put my arm around Mia and said “never let him see you cry.”

Nodding, she let me take her through to one of the reception rooms, empty bar a bench which she sat down on and allowed herself to cry now that we were in private. 

I sat beside her and put my arm around her shoulders as she crumpled into my arms and began sobbing against my chest. I soothingly rubbed her back whispering “sshh it’s ok” against her hair. 

“He’ll come home to me tomorrow and he won’t even think he has done anything wrong.” she laughed bitterly.

“If I may ask you, why on earth are you with him? You’re an intelligent girl, you know better than to be with someone like him. As you just said, you know exactly what he will do, yet why do you never hold him accountable for his actions?” I brushed my hand through her long hair before cupping her cheek and tilting her chin up so that I could look into her eyes.

She was speechless for a moment, but had stopped crying.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t be with someone like him should I?  He will remain this immature until it is too late. So the question is, how do I find someone more mature?” her lips curled into a smirk as she as the question and the last piece of self control I had been holding onto melted away as I crashed my lips onto hers.

For a few heated seconds we held back, the kiss gentle but needy until her hands were in my hair and her tongue was past my lips. I lifted her fluidly onto my lap and held her in place with my arm around her waist. As I was about to push the boundaries a little further I felt the squeak of the door being pushed open and we sprung apart, although with her perched on my lap it was still evident exactly what we had been doing. 

Marco stood in the doorway,  with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a shocked expression.

“I can explain-” I started before Marco cut me off.

“No need, no need. I knew all along that you were tempted…”

[avenirdelight]

Gaffer’s In-Law

Mason Mount

Written for @footballffbarbiex’s summer writing challenge. Prompt: Him dating his manager’s daughter.

The words had arrived in the dressing room. It was literally the only thing everyone had been asking each other once they arrived at the training ground today. The news had broken out last night and it travelled fast, giving everyone quite a shock.

Mason Mount is dating Thomas Tuchel's daughter.

According to the news, they were seen getting out of her apartment and driving away in his car yesterday afternoon. Their faces were clearly shown on the photos, which were taken when they were getting out from a home goods store, so it could be easily confirmed that it was indeed Mason and Tuchel's daughter.

The suspect was awfully quiet in today's training. Mason wasn't being Mason. He wasn't full of smiles, barely talking, and he was keeping his distance, somehow making everyone sure that the news was actually true. He even waited for the dressing room to be empty, stalling his time in the gym before he decided that it was safe enough for him to wrap up his day, take a quick shower, and go home.

He should've known better that he wouldn't be able to get away just like that. He should've expected Ben, Reece, and Tammy to wait for him in the dressing room, fully ready to interrogate him.

"Is it true?" Ben asked as soon as Mason sat in his locker, casually taking a seat beside him. Reece and Tammy were sitting across them, and the three of them had the same expression plastered on their faces. It was a mixture of curiosity and concern, and if anything, it only irritated Mason.

Mason didn't answer the question as he kept rifling his bag, pretending to search for something. But when he felt like the unfaltering gazes wouldn't stop demanding an answer, he eyed them back one by one with a sharp look that said, "You think?"

Ben sighed, leaning himself back to the locker. "Can't believe you didn't even tell us. We could've prepared for it."

"Well, I was going to tell you, at the right time. We still needed time to figure things out," Mason finally said.

"Who knows about it?"

"Only Dec, and her best friends. We wanted to tell our families first and then keep it private. But well, now the whole world knows."

Mason didn't get mad often, but he clearly was right now, making Ben felt really bad for his best friend. "I'm sorry, mate." Ben patted Mason's shoulder, trying to give a little consolation. With a match coming up and now this, he knew Mason had a lot to think about.

"Mate, we got your back, yeah? Tell us if you ever need anything," Tammy offered his support and Mason just nodded. He appreciated his friends for this, but he felt like he needed his time alone now.

The distressing thoughts from last night that had eaten his mind until he'd fallen asleep were already crawling back, reminding Mason that they needed to be taken care of. Without any more words, Mason left his friends to head to the shower, hoping that some running water could help to wash his worries away.

—

"Why aren't you answering my texts?"

Mason found his girlfriend in the kitchen and he was surprised that she seemed to be preoccupied. Not that he wanted her to see her idling in distress, but the last thing he expected her to be doing right now was cooking.

"I'm not looking at my phone! Everyone's bombarding me with messages only to ask one thing, and it's stressing me out, so I ditched my phone somewhere," she answered. She was still composed, at least she looked like she was, but from her panicked tone Mason knew that she was absolutely freaking out.

After dumping his bag beside the kitchen island, Mason approached her. It was way past lunch time and still a couple hours away from dinner, so he had no idea why she was cooking. He looked around the kitchen, and only God knew what she was trying to do because he'd never seen her kitchen this messy before.

"And people have found my Instagram, they've started tagging me the photos so I untagged myself, turned off the tagged photos, and made my account private," she continued. "And the news is everywhere, and my face is everywhere. And I looked hideous, oh my God! I should've worn a mask or at least put some make-up on. But those photographers are freaking creeps, aren't they? I'm not my dad, I mean, the attention's supposed to be on him, so why would they be around my house? How do they know I live here? Do you think they plan for things like this? Like, following the manager's daughters to see if they're dating the players? Because..."

Mason said nothing. But he gently took a hold of her hands, waiting for them to stay still before he turned off the stove, making her stop babbling and eventually dropped the utensils. He tried to get her full attention by taking both of her hands in his and pulling her closer to him.

"Breathe, baby, breathe," he said fondly as their eyes locked on to each other. "You're okay. I'm here with you."

Mason guided her to take a deep breath together and suddenly there was only silence. When she'd calmed down, he pulled her into a hug and gave a kiss at the top of her head, and he was a bit relieved when he felt her panic melting.

"And my brother had the audacity to send me a voice note, laughing, saying that I would absolutely be dead tomorrow," she mumbled to his shoulder before detaching herself from his hug.

"No, you won't. We'll be fine. I know we will." He searched for her face as he took her hand on his again. "I know none of us wanted this to happen, and it's quite scary, but we'll figure this out, baby, okay?"

She nodded and her lips twitched up into a small smile. It put a smile on Mason's face too and his smile instantly warmed her heart, so she leaned in to steal a quick kiss.

"Did my father give you a hard time today?" she asked, turning the stove back on to continue with what she did before.

"No... Well, I don't know. We didn't really talk today, he only gave me short instructions when we were training, nothing unusual."

"And your teammates...?"

"Ben, Tammy, and Reece talked to me about it. But the rest haven't said a thing. I know they know, but they gave me space. Don't know about next week, though, they might start calling me 'gaffer's in-law'," he chuckled.

And when he didn't get the giggle he expected, putting his hand on her shoulder, Mason said again, "Hey, we know this is never gonna be easy, right? But—"

"We'll get through this together, I know..." she cut him off. "Let's just hope tomorrow goes well. Do you think we need to rehearse what we have to say?"

"We could try. But— Why are you cooking right now?"

She shrugged. "I was freaking out and I needed something to do. You're going to eat this, babe."

That surely earned another chuckle from Mason and she giggled this time. He put a kiss on her head again, before figuring out that he needed to tidy up the mess she'd made there in the kitchen.

—

So the thing was, she had just moved into her own apartment. That was why they'd gone to a home goods store that day. Mason was helping her to get some stuff she'd needed.

She had decided to throw a little housewarming party, just a nice dinner with her family, and thought that maybe it would be the perfect time to finally introduce her mysterious boyfriend to them. Mason and her had been dating, very discreetly, for nearly five months and no one except their best friends knew about it. The plan was to tell her family tonight and his family next week, but the media had managed to ruin it for them.

Mason himself was attacked with endless questions by his sister and brothers after the news had broken out, and all he could do was give them the confirmation that yes, he was dating Tuchel's daughter, and that any further questions would have to wait. He promised them that the dinner at their parents' house next week was still a go and he would bring her to meet them.

Mason had been nervous about meeting the Tuchel family, they had planned this for weeks so he'd been preparing himself for it, but he didn't know that he would be this nervous. It just sort of hit him when he woke up this morning, realising that later in the night he would actually face Tuchel.

Facing Tuchel the gaffer wouldn't be much of a problem for Mason, it happened all the time. But facing Tuchel, the father of his girlfriend, was a completely different thing and now it sounded so scary on his head. He had no idea how Tuchel would react, let alone if he would give him his blessings.

It was going to be an awfully long day. Before the dinner, he still had training to do, and Mason was actually curious if Tuchel was going to be as casual as yesterday.

But of course it would be too good to be true. Mason was under Tuchel's gaze for the whole training session. He could feel his manager's eyes constantly following him. It was like Tuchel was paying extra attention to him, kept yelling Mason this and Mason that, and it was impossible not to be nervous, so he made a couple mistakes. His teammates kept sending him apologetic looks and Mason wished he could burn himself to the ground.

He was super relieved when the training session ended because he wanted to run from the embarrassment as soon as possible. But when he was about to dash to the dressing room, he heard Tuchel calling him. Ben, who was walking beside him, glanced at him and whispered a little good luck.

Mason turned around and saw Tuchel walking towards him. He swore he never felt so little before.

"I have to admit, I was late on finding the news," Tuchel said, stopping in front of Mason. "Well, I was so surprised."

Mason was completely flustered. He understood what news his gaffer was talking about. He felt like he needed to give a response, but his tongue was numb and he couldn't find any words to say.

Tuchel gave him a smile, which he couldn't quite decipher whether it was really a friendly one, or if it had another meaning behind it. All he knew was that the gaffer was already patting his shoulders as he got ready to walk away.

Without looking at him, Tuchel said with the most serious tone he'd got like he was giving a pep talk before a very important game, "I guess I will see you tonight."

The next second, Mason was left alone there. His feet were still glued to the ground and he felt like his heart literally just exploded. Tuchel had never spoken to him like that before, and who knew, maybe he had become his gaffer's least favorite player by now.

Mason knew tonight wouldn't be easy. All he knew was that needed to be the best version of himself, as a person, to show Tuchel how serious he was about the relationship he had with his daughter. There would be plenty that he needed to say, and Mason couldn't help but to wish that a simple "sir, I love your daughter and I'm asking your permission to date her" would be enough.

—

i have a love-hate relationship with this one. i don’t think i’m at my best, so i like the idea but i’m not sure about how i did it...? it’s so messy, like the state of her kitchen, and i wish i could’ve made it neater... but i hope you guys still enjoy it!😭🥺

however, i have another pieces of mason and it’s my absolute favourites, so check it out! ✨try again✨ & ✨our future footballer✨

also my other pieces for this writing challenge: ✨protocols - ben chilwell✨ & ✨swipe right - dcl✨

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[avenirdelight]

Protocols

Ben Chilwell

Written for @footballffbarbiex’s summer writing challenge. Prompt: “When you said you were thinking about moving teams, I didn’t think that meant leaving me behind too.” — Just to set the mood, listen to “Protocol” by The Vamps

She hated goodbyes. Speaking from her experiences, she never handled goodbyes too well; they always left a huge hole in her that would need a while to fill in again.

Yet there she was, facing another goodbye, as she stood by his bedroom door, holding on to the last suitcase that she was going to walk out his life with.

The sorrow that was hanging in the air was thick and they felt their chest getting heavier every time they breathed it in. Ben was sitting on the edge of his bed, head hung low as he thought about every single decision that had led to tonight. All the fights, the deep talks, and the tears had brought one solution to the table: they needed to go separate ways.

Their relationship had been an accident. A one night stand had turned into a couple more, and a few months later she'd already had her own section of clothing in his walk-in closet.

He'd been only trying to find comfort from her at first, not expecting her to be comfortable with the relationship that sort of naturally formed between them, and he'd somehow just went along with it. It wasn't until recently that the realisation hit him: he shouldn't have done everything that had misled her to believe that he wanted something bigger. She fell in love, he didn't. She wanted more and he wasn't sure he wanted the same thing.

They had accepted the fact that they were both in the wrong and they knew taking this relationship any further would only hurt both of them more, hence the separation.

"I'm sorry. I can't say anything more. I'm sorry." Ben broke the deafening silence. He didn't exactly know the protocols of break-ups and separations. Apology was the only thing that had been coming out of his mouth for the whole evening.

"It's okay, Ben. We didn't even suppose to happen, anyway," her lips twitched up into a weak smile. She had been trying to reassure Ben and convince him that she was stronger than she looked, even though Ben definitely knew that this was the biggest heartbreak she had ever experienced in her life.

It was inevitable. She hated herself for being too naïve all these time, hoping that somehow their relationship would blossom into something more, hoping that he would grow some love for her. None of it had come true and she'd realised that she shouldn't have hoped for a fairytale in the first place.

There was nothing worse than knowing that you weren't in someone's priority list, especially when you had been placing them at the top of yours. What made it worse was that apparently that person didn't even include you in his future plans.

Ben was going to move to another club. Another city, another new chapter of life. He had told her bits about it and she had been supportive even though it had surprised her at first. But when she'd asked him what they were going to do with them—whatever they were called because they'd never gave it a label nor any commitments to bind them—he couldn't answer.

"When you said you were thinking of moving teams, I didn't think that meant leaving me behind too," she murmured. A wave of emotions washed over her and she felt her eyes burning, but she truly had no tears left to cry. "And I was stupid to even think that you..."

"Don't say that again. You're making it hard for me to do this." Ben shook his head. His heart clenched listening to her words. "We've had weeks of discussions about this. I don't want to put you through it again." He knew that it wasn't only his fault, but he couldn't help to think that he was the biggest villain.

"Right. I'm sorry." Her grip on the suitcase's handle got a little bit stronger. Ben was right, she shouldn't be making it any harder, even though the little voice in her head kept screaming to her that she could've done more to earn his love. But she couldn't blame Ben for not feeling the same way; he'd always been nice, he'd always cared for her, just not the way she'd cared for him.

Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Best of luck for your future, Ben. I know you're going to achieve big things." Even though I wouldn't be a part of it, I'd still be happy for you.

"You too," he finally looked up. The sheepish smile on his face was the best one he could manage to give her right now. "Go get your dreams, yeah? I'll always be cheering you on."

She nodded as her smile grew again, a little bit wider this time. "I better get going," she said and saw him immediately stand up.

"Let me walk you to the car."

"No, don't," she stopped him. "It's okay. I'll just go."

"You sure?" he asked. She wished he wasn't being as nice as he normally did. He could've been colder and indifferent, but all he had been showing towards her was concern and guilt, which was definitely making it harder for her to let him go.

She nodded as she got herself ready to go.

"Can't we have one last hug?"

She let out a little chuckle upon hearing his hopeful question. "Remember, Ben. Don't make it harder."

Ben took a deep breath. He was hurting too. He didn't expect this to hurt this much. The realisation hit him pretty late, that he was letting go of someone that had been making impacts on his life, whom in the past six months he had shared his joys and worries with. To let her go with a broken-heart that he had caused made him feel like he was the worst person in the world.

He knew he shouldn't be asking for the hug, but he couldn't remember the last time they shared a warm hug, and he was longing for it. Despite all of the confusion and uncertainty that he'd always had, one thing that he was sure about was how patient and warm she'd always embraced him. She had always been there holding him when he'd needed, and he was ashamed he couldn't do the same for her, at least not with the same genuineness.

She started walking away, dragging her suitcase. Her steps felt so heavy and so did her heart. Ben trailed behind her but stopped by his bedroom door to lean himself on the doorframe.

"Hey," he stopped her and she looked back at him. Ben took his time to admire her face, since it might be the very last time for him to do it. He didn't regret meeting her, and he hoped one day their paths would cross again. "Thank you. For everything. You made me happy."

She smiled again before nodding her head. She knew that one was real. Certain, honest, and sincere.

She did make him happy. Ben was grateful for that. He had never meant to hurt her, but it had happened, and at least she had forgiven him. Now there were no more important things than their own futures, hers especially. He knew this was the best, ending the fantasy that they had and letting her go. Because he didn't deserve her and out there, there would be a man who could love her the way she loved him.

—

this is my second submission for this writing challenge! the others are dcl’s swipe right and mason’s gaffer’s in-law — go check it out!☺️

i am kinda proud of this one and it’s definitely one of my favorites i’ve ever written. been a few days since i finished writing this but it still hurts me😭 i hope you enjoyed it🤍

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[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hey besties!! here is part 8! Part 8 see's Amelia in a change of colours, her friendship with Jorgi explored more, an awkward Chelsea player and a cheeky Villa boy. Please enjoy & send me your thoughts! Love always, Steph xx

Part 8. | parte otto

word count;  1569 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Wednesday 11/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Landing in the rarely-sunny but always wonderful London town, Amelia was swiftly picked up from the airport by a man in a blacked out Mercedes van and driven away to her new club-appointed accommodation in the royal borough of Kensington and Chelsea. The 24 year old couldn’t help but feel a sense of home resonating through her body. Yes, Italy was also her home for the last 3 years, but there was something in the air in London that really made her believe that this is where she was meant to be.

Whilst happy that her quintessentially-British townhouse was a mere stones throw from Stamford Bridge and her family home just on the other side of the park in Holland Park she was still a 30+ minute commute, without traffic & one way, from Cobham. Beggars can’t be choosers, at least this way she was close to the hustle and bustle of London City, as well as her family and old friends.

A few days had passed since her talk with Fede, her swift departure from bella Italia saw only a small gathering occur at her apartment with some of the juventus boys on the eve before her flight. Constant check-ins from La Cosa Nostra whatsapp group chat, of course the word had spread to the rest of the Italian national team before she had even returned home from Fede’s place, meant that she was never left alone to her thoughts for too long.

Keeping the promise he had made when she phoned to tell him the news, Jorgi was knocking on her front door at 7:30am the following Monday morning, ready to drive the both of them to Cobham for Amelia’s first full day of work. He was the only person who knew she was taking this offer, other than the professional staff at Chelsea FC who had to organise her contract, so it was very much a nerve-wracking drive to the suburban training ground.

“Sapevo che stavi bene con il blu Azzurri, ma il blu Chelsea è un'altra benedizione che mi è stata conferita” (i knew you looked good in Azzurri blue, but Chelsea blue is another blessing bestowed upon me) Jorgi exclaimed as she opened the door to his car and slid in, having stopped right in front of her house in a no-park zone.

“Morning Jorgi, Thanks so much for picking me up - i’ll sort out a car this weekend i suppose”

“It's not a problem, I'm only a couple of streets away anyway so it's not out of my way.”

The pair caught up on the past couple of weeks without each other, speaking on the Fede situation and Amelia’s feelings. The best thing about Jorgi was how he was able to see both sides of the story. He valued Amelia's opinion and feelings as much as his long-time friend, Fede. He knew how hard it was for both parties to come to an amicable separation & he was making a mental note to call his italian pal to thank him for letting the girl go.

Amelia’s first day at Cobham was heavily administrative, spending a lot of time sorting out paperwork, meeting the team of staff she would be joining, getting her uniform, sorting out her office. After a quick bite to eat with the head analyst, Paolo (she just couldn’t seem to escape the Italians altogether), she collected her leather bound notebook and followed her colleague to the first team wing of Cobham. Whilst she was strictly working with the first team, she had expressed interest early on & stipulated it in her formal acceptance, that she wanted the opportunity to work with the academy players and the freedom to dip into the talent pool of Chelsea youth, to assist in perfecting her tactical plays.

She couldn’t deny that the blue of her uniform was the perfect shade to bring out the blue in her more-often-than-not grey eyes, she felt comfortable in it, she felt part of the team. Pushing open the door ahead of them, Paolo stood to the side like a true gentleman and gestured to Amelia through the door first.

______________________________________________________________

Walking in, I noticed that the scene in front of me was similar to the first time I met with some of these players. With their backs to me, facing the front, listening to every word that Tuchel was saying to them. I snuck in, stood to the side and waited for my introduction which came very shortly after.

“I want you all to meet the new tactical analyst that the club has appointed following a very successful european campaign this past summer, Amelia White” Thomas directed towards me, and just like that, a slight bit of deja-vu settled in as i watched 30+ sets of eyes turn to look at me. Some were happy to see me, some were polite and offered a small smile, and just one set looked a little shocked and very guilty.

“I trust you all will treat her with the respect that you show me, Paolo and all other members of this professional staff. We had to fight tooth and nail for this girl to join us and I can’t express how lucky we all are to be learning from her.” Tuchel dismissed his team, Jorgi pushing through the chairs to get to me.

“Amelia! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me about this!” Jorgi rushed over to me and wrapped me in a hug that I didn't return. Less than impressed with the boy's antics and sarcasm.

“Oh be quiet, you drove us both here today.” I spoke with a smile and rolled my eyes.

“Always the trouble maker Jorgi!” Mason Mount spoke from behind him.

“Amelia, nice to see you again! Can’t believe you didn’t tell us in the group chat!” Mason continued as he greeted me hello.

“Haha yeah, it all happened very quickly & to be honest, my decision wasn’t final until a couple of days ago. I had a few opportunities and I had to weigh up my options, Chelsea were willing to go a bit above the other clubs so it became obvious. Besides, someone once told me I would look good in the Chelsea blue” That someone also being the person who avoided my messages, and who is currently avoiding my eyes.

Later that evening.

“As if I deserved to know you picked the blues on sky sport?” Jack questioned the girl over facetime that evening, keeping their friendship tradition alive and cooking together.

“It all happened so quickly Jack, I was in talks with a few clubs and there was a bit of a tussle and negotiation stage and then I just had to pick one. Chelsea offered me the opportunity to foster the youth team talent and no one else was willing to cross-contaminate their professional staff” Amelia hurried down the phone, afraid that she hurt the brummie lad’s feelings.

“Calm down Mils, it's fine! I’m only playin wiv’ya. I’m happy for you - and me too, now I can come visit ya and have a place to stay in the city” He joked back to her. Jack had a certain way of calming the girl down, he reminded her a lot of Fede. He could read her before she came to terms with her own thoughts and feelings.

“Are you trying to tell me that you, with all of your friends and all of your money, need to rely on little old me for a place to stay in the city?” The joking tone went back to normal with the two flirtatious friends.

“No, I'm just saying that I'm happy you’re in the city. Ya know, it’s only a 2 hour drive. I could easily come down on a Friday after training and be back before a Sunday game…”

“2 hours is far too long to be in the car just to spend the day with me”

“That's where you’re wrong, it would be two nights and one whole day. Besides, 2 hours in the car is better than having to fly to get to you. I was prepared to do the latter anyway before your big move back to London” Oh did her heart swoon inside her chest, a quick blush spread across her cheeks and a little chuckle left her lips - unable to find the right words to say back to him.

Amelia knew the dangers of the situationship, this was exactly how it happened with Fede. She couldn’t help that she was naturally playful and flirtatious, she often didn't know she was doing it. Normal conversations to her often appeared like a hardcore flirt-fest to anyone who happened to be around the girl. She didn’t want to cross that line with Jack, she knew better than to do that, especially with how she hurt Fede in the end. She didn’t know where she was going to be in a few years, nor where he was going to be.

What she also recognised in the older lad that Fede also possessed, and she would be surprised if he didnt considering he is a professional football player, is that he was determined. Too determined that sometimes it was more about the chase and the challenge, rather than the aftermath or the reward. She knew Jack wouldn’t give up on her and would always be there for her. Was it bad that she enjoyed it?

Part 9. | nona parte

[avenirdelight]

✨FIC UPDATE✨

Try Again — Mason Mount

“Thank you for teaching me what love is.” — Anyone You Like

“I didn’t think we’d last a week, let alone a year.” — Anyone You Like

✨ Coming Soon ✨

🔜 Tyrone Mings Euro 2020

🔜 3 pieces for footballffbarbiex’s summer writing challenge: Dominic Calvert-Lewin, Mason Mount, Ben Chilwell

currently not taking requests🙏🏼

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