#real madrid x chelsea

[sportwnt]

hii! like or reblog if you save/use

[skipper1331]

Penalty // Jessie Fleming

a/n: based off this and this request.

Anger was the only thing Jessie felt when she stormed off the pitch. How could that be fair?! A penalty, really?!

-

Chelsea was about to face Real Madrid in the Champions League group stages. Everybody was excited as it was the first CL match for the team this season. One simple instruction to follow: win.

Emma Hayes wanted to win. She chose her starting eleven very carefully as she had analyzed Madrid’s last games - it should be easy to win. She addressed every weakness of the opposing team and fixed her own on exploiting those exact weaknesses. She was determined to win.

Jessie was in her chosen starting lineup while you were on the bench. You felt so much pride, knowing that she was in it. The girl was so hardworking, ambitious and caring, she deserved her start. Gladly, Emma shared that opinion, for once.

Sadly, Emma’s plan didn’t go as she had hoped, Real Madrid already getting on the scoreboard in the 10th minute - Olga Carmona scoring from distance.

The equalizer didn‘t come until the 41‘ Niamh getting her name of the scoreboard. It was 1-1, Emma Hayes not pleased with the performance of her team.

Her halftime talk was harsh, pointing out each mistake they had made before she got more tactical for the new playing style which the team should play in the second half.

The second half started with chaos as the blues tried to find their rhythm with the new orders from their coach - no changes made yet. 10 minutes in, they found it, trying their best to get in the lead which they did in the 74‘

-

When Athenea del Castillo ran with the ball towards Chelsea’s box, Jess sprinted after her.

Unfortunately, the midfielder slide tackled her, the Madrid player deciding to let herself fall in the box - the ref blowing her whistle, immediately pointing to the penalty spot. All the subs jumped from their seats, yelling as the players on the field started to argue with the ref. No way, that was a penalty! Jess was shocked about the decision. She didn’t touch her! Let alone in the penalty area!

The ref‘s decision stood - penalty.

Steam was radiating off Jessie‘s body, she felt so mad. Where was var when you needed it? Her decision was ridiculous, every Blue agreed on that opinion yet Madrid happy with it.

The Canadian prayed that Olga would miss.

She didn‘t.

2-2.

Emma Hayes furios. No, she wasn‘t mad at Jessie but angry at the referee and the scoreline. Beating Real Madrid should‘ve been easy.

Despite the teams best efforts to make it 3-2, every attempt was stopped by the goalie or even earlier by the defence.

The final whistle blew, the score 2-2.

Jessie was angry, beyond angry. She was disappointed in herself, angry at the referee and sad about the result. What did she do to deserve this? For once, she was in the starting lineup and then something like that happens. Nobody was blaming her but the ref, yet that didn’t help to lift her bad mood.

Sweet girl Jessie was angry, a sight people rarely ever see. Of course, she shook every opponents hand - she wasn’t childish by any means.

But as soon as she did so, she left the pitch, storming off to the changing rooms.

Your eyes watched every movement, your mind debating if you should follow her. Your heart told you not to, not yet. She needed some minutes to calm down and you knew she could only process her feelings in silence. Respecting her boundaries, you gave her some time to cool off, the team going to the Chelsea fan side, saying their thank yous as they signed some jerseys and took some pictures.

After some time, you excused yourself from the team, walking towards the changing rooms.

You knocked at the door, not wanting to startle her as you entered the locker. The girl sat in her cubby, shin pads in front of her, no doubt that she had smacked them on the floor. She was still in her gear, her cheeks red and puffy - she had been crying. Wordlessly, she sat beside her, not caring whose cubby it was. All you cared was about Jessie. You didn‘t say anything and you wouldn‘t until she made a move. There was no pressure in your action, you were with her - she wasn‘t alone.

"Can… can you hold my hand?" she whispered, breaking the silence. Gently, you lifted her hand from her lap, intertwining your fingers before you settled your holding hands back down. Her head fell on your shoulder, hiding in the crook of your neck while she wanted to shut out the world. At least for as long as she could.

When the first few girls started to enter the changing room, Jessie left your touch completely. She didn‘t want to seem weak in front of her friends nor did she want any pitty from them.

She was a girl of privacy and even though the team knew the two of you were a couple, a very lovey-dovey one as well, there wasn‘t much pda.

Respecting her act, you stood up and went to your cubby, getting ready to leave. Every now and then you would glance towards the Canadian, only to find her eyes already on you. To be honest, you couldn’t read her eyes or facial expression - you could only imagine what she was feeling. Normally, you didn’t have a problem with reading Jessie‘s body language as you knew her like the back of your hand but this was different, this was something new.

-

On the way to the airport, the girl sat beside you - she hadn‘t said a word since her question in the locker. She stared out of the window, watching the streetlights disappear in the darkness of the night.

Every inch in her body was fighting against the urge of crying and falling in your arms. I am strong, she told herself. But the only thing she wanted, was to have your arms wrapped around her securely, your soothing voice whispering sweet nothings as you drew some patterns on her back, making her fall asleep in an instant.

The plane ride went the exact same; Jess didn’t say a word, caught up in her own world yet her hand holding yours tightly. She needed your touch.

Arriving in London felt like a relief for Jess, she could breathe again.

Late at night, early in the morning you arrived at home, "Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently, placing your bags on the floor and guiding her to living room right after. You took a seat on the couch, pulling her on your lap. Her facade was gone. It was just the two of you. As you looked at her, she broke down, all emotions spilling at once. Tears ran down her cheeks as she started to sob in your chest. She held onto you for her dear life. Your hand rubbed her back, trying to calm her down as you held her just as tight. "It’s all my fault!" she cried, guilt eating her up alive. Because of her, the team had jeopardized their lead, the game ending in a draw because of her mistake.

"Baby, no it‘s not" you whispered, adding more sweet nothings which you knew she liked.

"It is!" she leaned back, eyes locking with yours as so much emotion was written in them, "that stupid tackle! I didn‘t even- it wasn‘t even- that shouldn‘t have been a penalty!"

Furiously, tears ran out of her eyes while it broke your heart to see the sweetest girl in so much pain. It wasn‘t her fault, "I know, my love, I know" you told her, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek.

The brunette let herself melt in your embrace, the only comfort that would help as she hid in your grasp. Your arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer before you laid down on the couch properly. Your head rested on one of the cushions, Jessie‘s on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck while her hands grasped your shirt. Your legs were tangled together, both of your arms around her waist as the one hand started to draw patterns on her back. "I love you so much" you whispered, kissing the top of her head as you continued whispering sweet nothings.

Her eyelids became heavy and body exhausted, your voice calming her down as your pattern drawing relaxed her. Slowly but surely, she drifted off to sleep. You carried on with your actions, wanting to bring her as much comfort as you could, not minding that she was asleep. You were glad that she was.

And even though the girl was fast asleep, she knew you‘re comforting her - you always were because you were her comfort.

[theturtlebappe]

Kepa and Mase 😄 🎧

[gavisimmaculaterizz]

which fic do u guys want done by the end of this week 😊!!

[chelseajackarmy]

[ichibunnysblog]

Posting fanfic ideas one old two new

Christian Pulisic x Reader

Chris is a descendent of the Benandanti who wants nothing to do with the old family traditions because football ⚽️ and reader is a white mage.

Last of Us AU (show or game) random footballers, whoever you think would survive and what they would be up to.

Christian Pulisic x Reader

The story of Eros and Psyche modern-day au

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wolfsburg

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You finally make it

After a few years at Barcelona, winning everything there is to win and getting married along the way, you leave the club.

It sends ripples through the community.

You got your start at Linköping, playing minimal minutes there but enough that you got Arsenal's attention. From Arsenal and your World Cup performance, you got Barcelona's attention.

A loan at Lyon and your subsequent contract extension and return, had everyone thinking you would stay at Barcelona for a lot longer. But you see out your contract, get married and decide to move again.

You and Talia were somewhat of a power couple at Barcelona. One at the front, one at the back. Barcelona was safe when the two of you were on the pitch.

But now you're leaving.

When you were younger, still a teenager, all of your contracts and the subsequent discussions went through Magda and Pernille. They had to sign off on them.

Now, they don't.

The announcement that you're leaving Barcelona happens in the winter. The club says that you aren't renewing your contract and that they thank you for your service.

Within hours, the community is in uproar from fans to players.

There was never any indication that you wanted to leave, you hadn't even told Magda and Pernille you weren't going to stay.

But you play out the rest of the season, showing everyone that Barcelona is letting you go begrudgingly. You are still leaps and bounds ahead of the second-choice keeper so clearly the club weren't the ones making the decision to let you go.

That's when the rumours start.

Practically every big club in the world has put out feelers for you.

There's a campaign on Twitter to get you to return to 'home' to Arsenal and another one saying that Linköping is attempting to get you back.

Familiar with you and your play style, Lyon tries to tempt you.

You get several lucrative offers from NWSL teams that you push away instantly. You have no ambition to play in the American league.

Lots of English teams try to snatch you up, Chelsea in particular but you reject their offer with a laugh. Manchester City and Aston Villa both send you fairly good offers and even Liverpool tries their hand to sway you.

The Bayern Munich coach is also very vocal with his plans to get you to come to Germany.

The funniest offer comes from Real Madrid as if they could tempt Barcelona's star keeper to dress in white.

Either way, there are so many rumours and so many choices that no one can quite predict where you'll be playing your football next season.

Then, on the first day of the transfer season, the video drops.

It zooms in on a picture of Pernille's Bundesliga winning team. She's holding the trophy proudly in one arm and you in the other. You're beaming at the camera in your own Wolfsburg jersey.

'Welcome Home' the caption proudly proclaims and the video cuts.

You step out from the shadows, the camera zooming in on the Wolfsburg badge proudly on your chest.

Magda keeps watching the video but Pernille sits there in shock.

You don't have to tell them anything. You don't have to tell them where you're going and what you're doing but Pernille is still blindsided as everything suddenly makes sense.

There were so many rumours and so many questions but Wolfsburg had never been apart of it.

Pernille feels stupid now that she thinks about it.

You'd told her once that you'd only consider leaving Barcelona for one team.

She feels crazy now for not knowing your plans just by the silence.

"Was it a nice surprise?" You ask, arms crossed as you lean in the doorway.

"You kept that quiet," Magda says with a laugh.

You shrug. "The clues were there if you just looked."

With so many big and small teams clamouring for you, it did look a bit suspicious now that Wolfsburg was radio silent on the idea of getting you from Barcelona.

"The jersey," Pernille says, sounding a little choked up as she stands," It looks good on you."

You smile at her, a small thing as she crosses the room to cradle your face in her hands. "Of course it does. It's Wolfsburg."

Pernille can still remember your first Wolfsburg jersey. You were tiny, still a baby and were more interested in sucking on the collar than looking at the camera Pernille was using to capture the moment.

But you'd cried when she tried to change you out of it. You cried and sobbed and screeched until Pernille put you down for your nap still wearing it.

You'd had a collection of Wolfsburg shirts as you grew up. They were without a doubt your favourite team, the only team you were willing to move away from your wife for.

You had never been anything but complimentary about Wolfsburg.

It shouldn't be a shock but still, as Pernille looks at you, she can't help but see the little baby you used to be, wandering around the Wolfsburg training centre in your shirt and shorts.

She can't quite reconcile that version of you with the version of you now, the greatest goalkeeper in the world by a mile.

You have quite the resume of great teams. You have so many medals and trophies and awards.

And now you finally get to play for the team that you've loved since you were a baby.

[samkerrworshipper]

how did it end? | arsenal x reader

warnings: suicidal themes, self harm, alcohol abuse, depression

um yeah lol feel grateful for this because i’m going to go ghost mode for the rest of the week! to the anons who have a problem with my writing, don’t fucking read this if it’s such a problem, in fact don’t read any of my stuff at all, my page is a better place without you.

Everything about the day had felt wrong.

Everything about your last month had felt wrong, really the whole year if you thought about it.

It had all started after a blindside move from your home club. Leaving Rsenal had been the worst thing that had ever happened, but you’d known it was coming after they’d signed Russo. There was only so much room for strikers on the team, and your contract happened to be out as the summer started, leaving you as a free agent.

Somehow, you’d ended up at PSG, which you still didn’t understand. There had been offers everwhere, Lyon, Real Madrid, Man City, Chelsea, Bayern, Wolfsburg, yet your manager had fucked you and gone for PSG.

It had been a clusterfuck from the day you’d arrived, the language barrier, your horrible mental state, the different playing structure, the weather, your lonely apartment, the lack of friendships, the lack of support.

It had taken a month before you’d crashed and burned, withdrawing yourself from both club and national team. You’d been lower then low, sadder then sad, completely withdrawn from your own life. You wish you’d stayed, you wish that none of it had of happened, because maybe life wouldn’t have turned out the way it had, maybe you’d be happier.

Your Arsenal teammates had visited as often as the schedule permitted, helped you move your whole life from one country to the other, but at the end of the day you were still hundreds of miles away from them.

You’d stopped answering their calls after a few weeks, too consumed with the completely inebriating struggle that you were going through in Paris, trying to stay true to yourself whilst being so far in the deep end of the pool that you were struggling to keep your head above the water.

After the call to Sarina and the call to your manager it had made more sense for you to return to London, even if it had pained you to do so.

Not a month after you’d packed your whole life away against your will, you were packing it all back up.

You didn’t like what happened in Paris, you weren’t proud of it, all you wanted was to get back to your house in St. Albans, but you were also terrified of what your ‘home’ looked like now. It wasn’t the same place it had been for the last 8 years, you didn’t have your bestfriends as teammates more, you didn’t have any teammates, you were unofficially, self-decidedly, retired. Sarina had begged for you to return, tried to reckon with you, but you were done, your love for the game had died in Paris and you had no desire to re-open the wounds that had been torn into your skin in France.

You didn’t tell anyone, you just hoped that you’d be able to avoid everyone for as long as possible, that you’d just be able to slowly become nonexistent and become forgotten by everyone from the past 20 years of your life, but you were aware that life didn’t work that way.

You were sick of all the pain you were going through, all the suffering that you were being forced to endure for no good reason. You didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, you didn’t feel like you had anybody to talk to about it, it was just you nowadays.

That was how you spent most of your nights, alone.

Alone with a bottle of your posion of choice sitting on your bathroom floor.

It was the only thing that made it all better nowadays, the feeling of alcohol slipping down your throat, typically with a razor blade in your other hand.

There was something satisfying about it all, something perfect about being perfectly intoxicated with a sliver of metal between your finger tips.

On this particular day, you knew you’d drunk to much, but it had all been wrong. You’d woken up with a headache, in your shower, the tiles of your floor stained with your own blood. It wasn’t a uncommon place for you to wake up anymore, but everything about it felt wrong. Your head was aching in a way it never had, your whole body was hurting and for some reason it all just felt off.

You went about your normal routine, pushing the temperature of your shower to as hot as it would go, finding peace in the blistering water falling down across your skin. Once your skin was bright red you’d climb out, falling into your bed to help to sleep off the rift that the hangover had left inside of you. Around midday you would climb out of your bed, slipping out from the covers to enjoy your few hours of life that your days now gave you. Sometimes it would be spent in your kitchen, trying your hardest to piece together some kind of sustenance, other days making and eating food was too hard. On this particular day, you forgoed your kitchen, instead opting to walk straight past it and out onto your patio, as per the usual london weather, it was pouring down, but you didn’t mind too much.

The rain was nice, it reminded you that not everything in life was pretty, your life certainly wasn’t pretty anymore. Rain was a reminder that everyday could be turned upside down just based off of something that was completely out of anybodys control.

After deciding it was a bit too wet to enjoy the outdoors you tracked your way back indoors, your bare feet creasing and digging into the hard, cold wood floors of your home. You eyed off your uncomfortable couch, the one that your manager had found on facebook marketplace which was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture you thought could be bought. It kind of felt like a metaphor for you, you’d been bought, and it had been the worst decision PSG had made, and you were destined, just like the couch, to be thrown away without anybody really knowing or caring.

You walked straight past the couch and back to your bed, there wasn’t any living for you to do today, it just felt that way, so you pulled the covers back over your body and enjoyed the moment of peace that your bed gave you.

It didn’t last long, your body relaxing into the mattress for a few seconds before the restlessness took over. It was like that nowadays, your body never able to stop. You figured it was probably a result of your body going from pushing its limits everyday, mentally and physically to you doing absolutely nothing. Previously, when you’d been in a depressive episode you would sleep all day, no matter what had been happening, but not anymore. Now, you had to drink yourself into oblivion before your body would force itself to relax, you could be as exhausted and tired as you wanted but your body just wouldn’t let you sleep.

Your brain convinced you that your mattress was the lumpiest mattress made, when you really knew you’d hand picked it for it’s comfort. You brain tricked you into feeling like all of your curtains were wide open on a summers day when really they were drawn closed. Your mind was playing tricks on you and you didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.

That’s how you’d ended up on your bathroom floor so early, the overwhelming need for you to fix the pain becoming too much for you. With a bottle of vodka in one hand and your scared silver blade in the other you finally found yourself at peace.

The stomachache and burn of the vodka going down your throat didn’t truly matter, not when you were staring down at the thin criss cross of lines all over your thighs.

Some were healed, some were thick, some were thin, some were sore. They all told a different story. Thighs were the easiest, less arteries, good to hide, disguisable. They didn’t bleed the same way wrists did, they bled slow and painfully, a couple of lines never hurt you.

With the mix of last nights alcohol though and the new vodka mixed with the sight of blood you found yourself feeling woozy.

You hadn’t always been a cutter, self-harm hadn’t always been your vice. It had always been football. From the minute the ball was at your feet it had been football, and you wouldn’t of had it any other way. It had been your everything, football had been your life and until it had been taken from you, you hadn’t understood the true magnitude of what that meant. Your life had no purpose, no substance, nothing, without your game. Football had been the only thing you were good at, and you were extremely good at it. You’d given up on school in pursuit of your footballing career and it had been worth it, up until now.

Now your life was nothing but a big mess.

You wished it had worked out in Paris, you wished that you’d been able to farewell London and make a new home in France, but it hadn’t meant to be. All of your talent, all of your love, all of your passion, it was all for nothing now. Everything you’d ever done amounted to nothing, you were nothing without a pair of boots on your feet and a football in front of you.

You were never going to be the same again, it was all different now, and you were man enough to admit that you missed what you’d had. There were things that you lost in life, in the heartbreak and the struggles, you just hadn’t expected that you would lose the meaning of your life in the process. You had a hard time understanding why it had to happen to you, why you’d been the unlucky one. You paid your dues, you’d woken up at 5am every single morning to run drills, you’d worked your ass of and yet here you were, drunk on your bathroom floor wishing that you were gone.

Once upon a time you’d believed that a person would do anything for the thing that they loved most in the world, but you didn’t believe ion that anymore, love was supposed to be the most powerful thing on earth, and yet it had failed you.

It was funny because you could drink all of the alcohol you wanted but it never made you forget about what you’d lost. The hundreds of memories of football over the years, Arsenal, it had all been Arsenal. You’d been the kind of player where you’d always been one club, from academy all the way through to the senior team, you bled arsenal. Nobody even asked you what your dream team was, because it had always been Arsenal, you hadn’t had eyes for anywhere else. Yet you’d been thrown away like nothing.

You’d loved playing for Arsenal, when you put your jersey on at the beginning of every game you felt ten times stronger, qall of your bestest friends had been at Arsenal, your bridesmaids, your for life friends, and yet now it all felt like you were drifting away.

For the longest time you’d chosen the good options, the healthy options, what was right.

Now though, you chose destruction.

You sleep when your blackout drunk.

You drink caffeine late at night.

You stay awake until your eyes burn.

You always say yes to whatever vice your brain can think of.

You drink water instead of food and vodka instead of water,

You’re isolated beyond the point of it being okay, nowadays you spend more time with yourself then anybody else.

Maybe it was the vodka that made you feel particularly adventurous, or the scent of your own blood seeping across your skin, but whatever it was it somehow inclined you to reach for your phone which was rested on the tiles besides you.

You’d turned your notifications off long ago, as soon as the trade had come through.

You’d ignored everyone’s messages for the sake of preserving your own mental state, you couldn’t deal with the constant back and forth of trying to keep friendships which felt like had already gone.

You were more intoxicated than normal, or that was how you rationalized your behaviour, because there really wasn’t any other explanation to it, unless all of the emotions from the last few months had suddenly hit you a lot harder then normal.

But you were sick of being alone, you knew that, you’d been alone for far too long.

Maybe the alcohol had pushed that to the forefront to your mind, or you’d just become inherently desperate.

Your phone rang, the sound vibrating against the tile floor of the bathroom, amplifying it to your ears, the noise ringing out in your ear canal.

It didn’t take long for the ringing to cease, the sound of silence absorbing around you.

“y/n? Is that you?”

You blinked a few times, swallowing down the final remnants of your last swig of vodka.

“Hey.”

Your voice was shaky, from the days of not saying any words at all, you didn;t have any reason to speak if you were all by yourself.

“Hi.”

The silence stayed thick, obviously neither of you unsure about what to say.

“Are you okay, no ones heard anything from you in a few weeks.”

You’d vanished, for the good of yourself.

“I wish I’d stayed, le.”

Their was a deep breath exhaled from the other side of the line.

“I wish you’d stayed too, y/n.”

You couldn’t think of a single positive that had come from you leaving, not a single one.

“I wish I’d stayed now, I wish I’d been given the chance.”

You could fele the tears building up in the corners of your eyes.

“Me too, y/n.”

The tears were falling, the water falling from your cheeks falling onto the blood on your legs, the two liquids mixing together, the blood turning into red as they two mixed, blood did run thicker than water.

“I wish i’d stayed le, I wish none of this had happened.”

You didn’t want to know what the blonde on the other side of the phone was thinking about at this moment, you weren;t thinking about her, just yourself.

“Hold in there kid, for me, it’s all going to work itself out.”

There was no working it out, this was the end for you.

“I can’t do it anymore, I can’t pretend that i wish I hadn’t of stayed, that I don’t spend everyday regretting it, I want it all back.”

You pushed the blade down against your skin again.

Drawing the metal against your skin until the blood had begun to pool at the base of the two or three inch line.

“Where are you kid, are you in Paris? Do you need me to send someone to come and check on you? You shouldn’t be drinking like this by yourself, especially not in season.”

There wasn’t a season for you anymore, you were free, you could do whatever you pleased.

“I’m at home, and I’m fine.”

You pulled the blade up, and onto a new patch of skin, it was all littered with past scars, raised white lines.

“You don’t sound fine kid, I have plenty of friends in France, don’t make me get them to come and hunt you down.”

Her voice was an attempt at threatening, but it sounded more worried then anything.

“I’m not in Paris, I left after my contract was annulled.”

Annulled aka we’re letting you go without any pay but you still technically belong to us until the length of your contract is up.

“Annulled?”

You would have thought Sarina would have told the team, but apparently not.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m retired.”

Retired was not a word that you thought should fall from a twenty four year olds mouth, but here you were.

“Retired? Where are you, y/n?”

You supposed the alcohol might have been making your tongue a little bit looser.

“In my house, in my bathroom.”

Another deep exhale, you could just picture the woman pinching the bridge of her nose, maybe even frowning.

“Your house, where?”

You picked up the bottle of alcohol, taking a break from the razor blade to allow the vodka to ease back down your oesophagus.

“St Albans.”

The line went silent for a few seconds.

“You’re back home, since when?”

Another sip of your vodka.

“Couple of weeks, France wasn’t for me.”

France was the end of you.

“How much have you been drinking? You sound awful.”

You didn’t think you sounded that bad, but you also supposed a sober person would have a different perspective.

“Vodka, feels good le.”

Another deep exhale.

“I’m going to come over.”

Rustling on the other side of the phone.

“I’m fine, I’m good, you don’t need to come over.”

You were lying to both yourself and Leah.

“You aren’t fine, you aren’t good, and even if you want to tell yourself you are, I need to see you in real life because for the last months I’ve thought you were as good as dead. Are you safe, y/n?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question, you hadn’t felt safe with yourself in what felt like forever.

“I’m not unsafe.”

More rustling on the other side of the line.

“Do I need to bring somebody with me? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

You thought about it for a few seconds.

“I’m okay Le.”

The alcohol made you feel more okay then you had been, so you supposed it wasn;t fully a lie.

“You’re drunk at 6pm, I don’t think you are fine. I’m going to go get Viv, she knows how to deal with you when you’re spiralling, I’m going to stay on the phone with you and ask you some questions, okay, I’m walking out to my car now.”

You nodded your head, the realized that Leah wasn’t in front of you.

“Answer me honestly, are you safe right now, do you feel safe?”

You didn’t feel unsafe, you kewn by the looks of things, you were in a unsafe position. Alcohol and self harm wasn’t exactly the safest thing, but you felt at peace, and you knew that you weren’t causing any serious bodily harm to yourself.

“Depends on your perspective.”

You heard the sound of car doors.

“Okay, I’ll break it down, hmm? Are you within arms reach of something that could cause harm to you or others?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

The sound of the phone connecting to bluetooth and keys in a ignition.

“What?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek.

“Bottle of vodka and a blade.”

It wasn’t hard for you to admit, not when this had been how you’d spent all of your nights the last while.

“What kind of blade?”

You wished you’d stayed, you wished you weren’t in this position.

“Razor.”

You could feel the bile rising in your throat, whether it was alcohol related or from the cosntant questions.

“Alright, I want you to push them both as far away from you as possible, don’t look at them, don’t think about them, think about me. Now, have you caused yourself any harm?”

God, if you’d been able to stay none of this would be happening, none of it.

“Some cuts, le I think I’m going to be sick.”

The tears were full throttle, the sound of somebody’s voice that you’d missed so much in your ears and the vomit bottling itself up in your throat.

“Go to the toilet bowl, let it out.”

The taste of bile in your throat was never going to be something you enjoyed, the feeling of the new cuts along your thighs creasing as you crouched over the bowl stinging in a way that reawakened you.

The vomiting didn’t really stop, the continuous gagging being the only sound in your bathroom, beside the sound of Leah’s car.

Eventually, you finished, all of the clearish liquid mixed with your stomach acid sitting at the bottom of the bowl like a disgusting soup.

You laid down against your tiles, enjoying the cold that covered your skin.

Viv must have been picked up, because you could hear her and Beth talking in the background, beth, happy beth, beth who had once been your bestest friend.

“Bubba, you still with us, we’re just around the corner.”

You let out a groan in aggreance.

They continued to talk to you, allowing you to reply with different huffs and noises as they neared closer and closer to your home.

You ignored the hit of endorphins that you felt melt across you at the sound of your front door unlocking, Leah had kept your key, clearly.

It was a few seconds before your bathroom was crowded by the presence of your past teammates, the three sets of eyes all falling on you.

“Beth, go get a wet handwasher, Leah go get her some water.”

Viv’s voice was soft, but commanding, her body immediately gravitating to your own.

She crouched down beside you, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you upwards, bringing you eye to eye with her.

“It’s good to have you back.”

You burst into tears, you’d hated being in St Albans out of fear that you’d be rejected, that you’d be told to go back to France, and yet here you were being welcomed back with open arms.

“I wish I’d stayed vivi, I wish I’d stayed, I wish none of this had happened, I want it all back, I want my life back. I can’t do this life anymore.”

Viv brought you into her arms.

“I know liefje, I know, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to figure it out, but we need to get you safe first, and this isn’t it. You need to be in a better place.”

If Viv had a problem with the way thart you clinged to her clothes, literally holding on for dear life, then she didn’t brign it up.

“You could have called one of us earlier you know, when you were struggling in France. You could have called me, you know I’ve been where you are, I’ve moved and hated every single part of it, we could have helped you before it had gotten this bad.”

You shook your head.

“Nobody could have helped me vivi, nothing could have helped me, I was done, I’m done.”

Viv nodded into you.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up, and then you’ll go back to Leah’s house, and then we’ll work on fixing this, okay, Kyra’s going to be so happy to know you’re back, she’s missed you, the bloody kid hasn’t shut up about you and she only knew you for a week. Kim’s been contacting everybody, trying to figure out where you were, her little protege, she’s been hardly functioning, we all have been, you can’t just disappear on us like that, you had us all worried sick.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Really?”

Viv let go of you a bit, to get a proper look at you.

“Just because you’re forced to leave doesn’t make you any less Arsenal. You can take the girl out of arsenal but not arsenal out of the girl. No matter where you go, or what you do, you’re always going to be one of us.”

You could feel more tears beginning to form.

“I don’t know how it could have ended how it did vivi.”

You felt the Dutch take a deep breath.

“I don’t know either, but we’ve got you alright, we’ve got you now, we won’t let you leave, your staying with us forever, you took a year off of my life for everyday that you ghosted us.”

You looked down and around you, at the mostly empty vodka bottle, the blood, the scars, it all, and you didn’t know how it had all ended up like this.

“How did it all end vivi?”

Viv looked at you, just as lost as you felt.

“We’re going to figure it out.”

——————————————————————

just thought i’d end this with a little etiquette lesson for any anons xo

if you feel like dropping hate over this in my inbox… don’t.

if you feel like having a go at me for this fic… don’t.

if you feel like making personally rude arguments about me… don’t.

if you feel like having a go at for me for expressing my struggles with writing and sometimes making mistakes… don’t.

just don’t. go touch some grass, go for a run, buy a new fucking vibrator. i can guarantee you will get more pleasure from a good orgasm then dropping aimless hate in my inbox.

[putellasawfc]

figured out ! (social media au)

sam kerr x spanish!reader

summary: after a phenomenal performance in the 2023 world cup, reader moves to chelsea where she quickly strikes up a connection with a certain australian striker.

faceclaim : alexia putellas (2 posts) & nathalie björn (rest of the au).

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liked by aitanabonmati, marisabel_rguez and 148,279 others

youruser still can’t believe this is real life. no words right now. MUNDO CAMPEONAS !!!! 🥇🇪🇸🇪🇸

view all 379 comments

ynfan1 SO DESERVED !!!

ynfan2 BEST PLAYER AT THE WORLD CUP OMGGG

spainfan1 MUNDO CAMPEONASSSSSS 😭😭

jennihermoso 🧱🧱🧱

ynfan3 you were amazing the whole tournament! so proud of you 🤍

aitanabonmati noia estrella ⭐️

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liked by youruser, ynfan1 and 28,776 others

barclayswsl after her phenomenal performance at this years women’s world cup, it has been reported that multiple clubs have shown interest in spanish defender yn yln, including: arsenal, vfl wolfsburg, atlético madrid and chelsea. where do you think she’ll end up?

view all 220 comments

ynfan1 any club would be so lucky to have her! so glad she’s finally being spoken about.

arsenalfan1 PLS PLS PLS ARSENAL

chelseafan1 yn and millie on the same team would be a dream 😭

ynfan2 but i wanted her to stay at levante :(

ynfan3 she’s wasting her potential there. definitely needs to go to a bigger club.

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youruser added to their instagram story

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liked by youruser, miafishel10 and 28,390 others

chelseafcw offically a blue! welcome to the club @/youruser. the colour suits you. 😉.

view all 293 comments

ynfan1 WE WONN !!

ynfan2 arsenal were right there .....

chelseafan1 dream come true!

chelseafan2 never seen her play before, is she good?

ynfan2 AMAZING!

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liked by lj10, samanthakerr20 and 19,209 others

youruser first training session with the blues completed ✅

view all 167 comments

zeciramusovic first of many!

ynfan1 the chelsea badge looks so good on you !!!

ynfan2 imagine playing at spain for three years and then having to get used to english weather 😭

ynfan3 the neck warmer and gloves oh she’s struggling 😭😭

silvialloriss :(

ashley_lawrence10 💙💙💙

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liked by youruser, catarina_macario and 31,474 others

chelseafcw first start for our newcomer. rate her performance out of 10!

view all 294 comments

ynfan1 129394/10

chelseafan1 what a signing!

chelseafan2 the reason we kept a clean sheet today 1000%

johannakaneryd 10! ☺️

ynfan2 more starts PLEASE

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liked by mbrighty04, lj10 and 20,390 others

youruser settling in well!

view all 176 comments

mbrighty04 sisterrr 🫂

ynfan1 you look so good in blue !!!!

ynfan2 aww i love howv quickly she's fit in

ynfan3 need a goal and a badge tap next game to keep me sane

chelseafan1 transfer season done right.

_jesslcarter 💙💙💙

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liked by kerrfan1, chelseafan1 and 286 others

kerrupdates sam today during the chelsea vs everton match. her two goals made it 4-0 for chelsea!

view all 93 comments

kerrfan1 absolute baller

matildasfan1 imagine having sam kerr play for your club and country ... i am so lucky.

kerrfan2 did anyone see sam and yn after the match???

kerrfan3 what happened?

kerrfan2 they were hanging onto eachother and whispering to themselves, giggling together they looked really cozy.

chelseafan1 so? that's what friends do .

kerrfan2 i'm just saying.....

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samanthakerr20 just added to their instagram story

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liked by ynfan1, kerrfan1 and 274 others

ynupdates yn spotted with chelsea teammate sam kerr out and about today!

view all 102 comments

ynfan1 ONG ????!

ynfan2 wait …. what ????

kerrfan1 omg i love them already.

kerrfan2 i don’t know, i think people are reading into this too much.

ynfan3 swear they’re literally holding hands in the first pic ?? how could we be reading into this?

chelseafan1 i ship it !!!

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samanthakerr20 just added to their instagram story

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liked by ynfan1, kerrfan1 and 2,1939 others

kerrupdates 'just friends' right sam?

comments on this post have been limited.

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was meant to be longer but of course tumblr has a silly 30 image per post limit. would be open to a part 2 if any of you would like it?

[trulyhblue]

My Girl

Hayley Raso x Barcelona! Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, drinking, sport rivals, coarse language.

A/N — this photo of her after the Chelsea vs RMA CL game has me in a chokehold. A short but sweet one <3

_______________________

You met Hayley in a drunken embrace, breathing in the earthy chill that contrasted the firey ambience of the club.

You hadn't been starting for your Childhood team for a couple of weeks now, only just making the starting eleven today you went above and beyond in training. Barcelona was your home. You grew up in the city, raised with a football by your feet, and had been a part of the club for as long as you could remember. You were one of the many girls among the team who had never experienced life outside of the Spanish League, with no eminent efforts of changing that anytime soon. You had made your debut at seventeen, and over these past few years, you were lucky enough to see the team expand into one of the greatest women’s team in the world — arguably even the best.

While this came with certain bragging rights, and of course the utmost pride for the club, the safety and security that came with your position on the team were always at stake. Unlike other teams, Barcelona were ongoing in their endeavours to keep their players on their toes in regard to their contracts. This was most apparent in girls like you, who had been at Barca your whole life.

It was a constant battle to the top, but maintaining your status there was harder. You loved football. It was your passion, your dream, but it was also your career — a very demanding one, at that.

You had met Hayley in England when you were visiting Manchester to catch up with your close friend Ona. Ona was at United, thriving at the club in streaks, but her contract was ending with the reds. You were one of the first to know about the girl’s transfer to your club. You were so, so excited.

It was nearing the end of the season, the Manchester Derby being the game you watched, but you couldn't help but catch the eye of one of the girls on the opposite team.

Her name was Hayley, you knew that from the ribbon in her hair and the curls that fell from her flimsy bun. You watched her intently throughout the game, unable to peel your eyes off the woman as she threaded the ball in and out of her position on the wing. As a Winger yourself, you were able to easily admire her skill, despite the fact that you were in fact rooting for the other team. You were quick to make yourself known to her after the game, and everything sort of hit it off from there.

Hayley was kind. Her heart was full of gold, and her precious person was something you fell in utter love with. She made you laugh like no one else. She had a way of making you feel seen, heard, and thought of even if there were a million different things going on around you that looked to be more important. The two of you didn't even think about the physical distance that you’d have to face. The instant connecting made it impossible to break the bond you immediately had.

After a couple of weeks of talking back and forth, you had found yourself hopelessly enamoured with the Australian.

Ona announced her move to Barca in June, and your national team was preparing for the long and apprehensive task of the World Cup. Before, you thought yourself very lucky to be playing in such an important tournament with such talented played. You still think this now, but after meeting Hayley, all thoughts turned to the idea of being in the same country for a whole month together.

Obviously, you did not have much time to spend. Winning the World Cup was a dream come true. It was everything you had ever dreamed of. But your heart was yearning for only one thing.

Hayley had asked you to be your girlfriend on the day you were due back to Spain. Her surprising announcement to Real Madrid just before the Cup was nothing of a shock to you. While you played for the rival team — and maybe, sort of tried to convince the girl to try for Barca — you were over the moon that she was so much closer to you.

Now, months later, you were spending your evening in a bar with Aitana and Keira slung to your hip, slurring your words as you searched for your phone. The Barca girls were in Madrid after a critical match against Atletico Madrid, meaning the next few days were going to be by your Australian’s side.

“Ugh, calling the enemy, I see.” Keira quipped, rolling her eyes. Aitana giggled from beside her, watching your sluggish motions with a smug countenance.

You ignored their antics, ignoring their jokes and finding your girlfriend's contact on your phone. You didn't even register how it took a few seconds for her to pick up, but you realised she had been waiting by the sound of her keys.

“Heyyyyy, Hay.” You splattered, pulling down an inch of your heightening skirt. “Miss you so much, Babyyy.”

“Hello, darling.” You heard your girlfriend chuckle. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” You asked. You flipped Keira off when she mocked your whines.

“For me to pick you up, Darling.” Hayley replied.

“Hm,” You pondered for a moment, trying to remember why you wanted to call Hayley in the first place. “I'm in a bar, Hay.”

“I know. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Nooo, I've had no drinks.” You whined, pulling yourself up from the secluded corner you and the girls were nurturing. “Why are you calling?”

If you were shit-faced drunk right now, you would've caught onto the Aussie’s continuous patience, and the endearment in her tone as she talked to you.

“You called me, Babygirl.” She spoke, her side of the phone quiet in contrast to the blaring music you were surrounded by. “Maybe it's time for me to pick you up?”

“You can't pick me up, Ribbon.” you giggled, the fond nickname rolling off your tongue in second nature. “You're at home. I'm at a club.”

“Oh, yes, my mistake, Darling,” she responded quickly. Hayley was already driving to your location having been waiting for this call all night. You didn't know this, but she was slightly envious of your team taking you away. While you both lived in the same country now, it was still at least a five-hour drive between Madrid and Barcelona. Furthermore, it wasn't often that teams would stay after away games, so it frustrated her knowing you were spending time with a team you spent every day with when you could be with her.

“I'm on my way now, okay?” She said to the phone, knowing that despite the silence you were waiting for her to guide the conversation. “Do any of the girls need a lift?”

You gave a quick glance over to the group you were with. Alexia was scolding Mapi downing shots. Ona was trying to force water down Aitana’s throat, and Keira was just singing at the top of her lungs, swaying to the beat of the music.

“No, Alexia is here.” You put it simply. Everyone knew that if Alexia was near, everyone would be getting home safe.

Hayley must've heard you from over the music since she hummed back. “Alright then,” She answered, turning the corner towards the club. “I want you to go tell Keira or someone that you're leaving so they know you're going.”

You ran a hand through your hair, crossing your arms over your chest in silent rebuttal. “Keira’s drunk, Hayley.”

“Okay, then don't tell her, tell Aitana.”

“Oh, erm— she's drunk too.”

You could hear the girl’s sigh. “Put Alexia on the phone please, Baby.”

You did as you were told, handing the phone to your captain without managing to explain why you did so. The older woman shared a solemn conversation with your girlfriend before hanging up the call and turning to Ingrid.

With Keira and Aitana yelling out goodbyes, the Norwegian woman held the small of your back, leading you out of the club to make sure you did so without error.

“Love you, Ingrid.” You muttered, holding the back of the girl’s top as she led the two of you out.

“Love you too, Precioso.” She replied, smiling at your dazed expression before finding Hayley’s car pull up beside you. You watched your girlfriend walk out towards you, giving your teammate a slightly awkward, but grateful nod as you breathed in her familiar scent.

“Hey, Hay.” You gasped, grasping onto Hayley’s sweater in replacement of Ingrid.

“Hey, sweet girl.” She uttered, opening the passenger door, aiding your balance as you trampled in.

You made sure to give one last look at Ingrid, smiling as big as you could. “Love you, Ingrid. Miss you so so so so much.”

“Miss you too, y/n/n. See you soon.”

You found yourself relaxing in the passenger seat as Hayley drove off. Her hand sat comfortably on your thigh, drawing small, wistful circles as you hummed a quiet tune.

When you finally arrived home, Hayley helped you take off your makeup, taking off your shoes, and slotting her Matildas trackies and one of her old Portland Thorns shirts over the top of you. You were like putty in her grip, letting her lead you to the bed without a second to protest, engulfing the cool climate of the sheets.

“I'm ‘gonna go get some water and paracetamol for you, Darling. Do you want anything else?”

Your girlfriend held out her hand, lightly stroking the baby hairs that had fallen from her pony and onto her face.

“Do we have any food?” you asked, knowing the answer already but feeling the need to ask anyway.

The Australian nodded and walked out of her bedroom, taking a few minutes to collect everything she needed. When coming back, she noticed the furrow in between your eyebrows. The drunken endeavours of the night were inevitably going to catch up to you and Hayley knew you were starting to release that when you happily accepted the water and medicine in a few gulps.

Once the two of you had settled back into bed, with Hayley changing into her pyjamas, you had almost forgotten about your prior request when you heard the ruffle of a packet sound from beside you.

Your head shot up, eyes darting to the yellow cardboard box and concealed package within it. Hayley’s arm had found its way across your waist, pulling you into her side as she let the scent of the food waft into the space.

You laughed at Hayley’s look of delight — two Cheddar Shapes already popping into the girl’s mouth.

“Where did you get these?” You asked, watching Hayley’s devious smile widen.

“Fan gave them to me.” She replied, shoving three more into her mouth.

You two shared a still and silence as you cracked away at the biscuits one at a time. Madrid had fallen into a quiet city — no longer filled with the connotations of noise and light, the wholesome bubble of your bedroom filling the enmity of home for the night.

“You're so cute, ribbon.” you quipped, glancing over the blush that had dusted your girlfriend’s cheeks. Hayley pulled you closer, the box of the Aussie snack hushed off the bed.

You felt the warmth of her embrace overwhelm you into fatigue, the combination of one another's love steering you two into an eternity of solitude.

“You are too, my girl.”

___________________________

[sportwnt]

hii! like or reblog if you save/use

[pitchsidestories]

A kiss from my enemy II Erin Cuthbert x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2811

A/N: Would you like us to write more about Chelsea's Fab 4?

A day before the CL game Chelsea against Real Madrid Erin Cuthbert found herself among her friends, drinking coffee in Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis new home. It was a quite cozy afternoon despite the Blues knowing there was a big match ahead of them at Stamford Bridge.  

Expectantly the American midfielder sipped from her cup of coffee before looking at the Scottish woman: So, it’s true what they say, Erin? That you forget she’s your girlfriend when you two play against each other?”

“Doesn’t everyone do that?”, Erin laughed it off. Next to her sat Guro Reiten who nodded grinning: “Yeah Magda definitely said that too.” “That’s not true for Sam and me.”, Kristie announced.

Amused Millie Bright replied:” Of course not.”  “I still see her as my fiancée.”, the Westham player added beaming proudly. Smiling Erin realized: “And I’ll see her as my girlfriend before and after the game. Shit, I think she heard that we are talking about her, she’s trying to face time me right now.”

“Take the call!”, Sam advised the younger woman. Enthusiastic Millie agreed:” Yeah, let’s all say hi.” “Oh yes, hello chica!”, Guro greeted her first.

Blushing you put a loose string of your hair behind your hair:” Hola! Erin, you didn’t text me you were still with your friends otherwise I’d have tried to call you later.” “Sorry, drinking coffee with them always takes a bit longer.”, your girlfriend apologized with a sheepishly smile.

Quickly you reassured her:” That’s okay.” You paused for a moment before you turned your attention to her recently injured teammate:” How are you, Sammy?”

“I’m good. I got my girls.”, Sam waved it off, placing a hand on her fiancée’s thigh. The latter one asked curiously:” Tell me where did you get that lipstick? It’s so pretty!” “Kristie.”, Erin rolled her eyes, visibly annoyed. Innocently Kristie told her:”What?”

“I’ll send you a screenshot with it, Kristie. But back to you captain Cuthbert.”, you cleared your throat and turned the attention to your girlfriend. She furrowed her eyebrows in response:” Captain Cuthbert?” “I read you’ll captain Chelsea tomorrow.”, you snorted.  

A teasing smile played on the Scottish international lips: “Oh, you read that?” “This is going to be spice, the girlfriend’s being the captain of each of their respectable teams, I can’t wait for it.”, Sam exclaimed.

Immediately Erin tried to cool off the striker’s excitement for the roles you were about to play tomorrow: “It’s not that big of a deal, Sam.”  “Honestly.”, you underlined her message with your word. Not convinced by your reaction Sam said:” Uh huh sure.”

“The press and the fans will make a big deal out of it.“, Kristie agreed with her fiancée. Sam shrugged; “It is a big thing.“ “We’ll see but I can’t wait to see you all tomorrow.“, you subtly tried to change the topic. “Oh, we can wait.“, Sam grinned back at you. Erin shook her head; “No, I can’t. Because some of us don’t have their girlfriends living in the same city.“

She gave Sam and Kristie a jokingly accusing look. “You’re the only one she’ll get to see tomorrow anyway. And Guro. The rest of us is injured.“, Sam commented, pointing down to her knee brace. Millies who was also out with an injury announced; “But we’ll be there at the Bridge and say hi.“ “Maybe.“, the Australian added with a smirk.

Millie rolled her eyes at her teammate; “Ignore Sammy.“ “Okay, enjoy your coffee, guys. See you tomorrow.“, you waved into the camera. “See you.“, Erin answered before ending the call. Excitedly, Kristie looked at Erin; “I’ll be there tomorrow for the gay drama.“

“If West Ham doesn’t train at the same time.“, Sam reminded her. “Right.“ “But we’ll be there.“, Millie interjected. “Anyone any more coffee?“, the injured striker asked. Erin shared a smile with her friends and answered; “Absolutely.“

Champions League nights always felt even more special than normal league games. The stadium was starting to fill while both teams finished their warm-up routines. Guro was the first Chelsea player to pull you into a quick hug; “Hi.“ “Hi. Ready for the game?“, the Norwegian asked. You nodded; “Yes, I’m ready. What about you?“

She rubbed her hands with excitement; “Ready to smash Madrid.“ Unimpressed, you replied; “Oh, we will give you a good fight.“ “Like you guys did against Barcelona?“, Erins teasing voice appeared out of nowhere, immediately wiping the smile off your face. You could hear the annoyance in your own voice as you answered; “Oh shut up. You’d lose against Barcelona too.“

“But at least we managed to draw against them. Something your team hasn’t managed.“, Erin countered. “But Chelsea lost the CL final in 2021. Barca won 4:0.“, you reminded her cooly.

Your girlfriend tilted her head; “And how far did Madrid make it?“ You knew she was trying to play some mind games and that you shouldn’t react to it but you couldn’t stop yourself from snapping; “What’s your fucking problem, Cuthbert?“

She reacted with a casual shrug; “I’m just saying it as it is. You’re already out of the CL. Again.“ “Whatever you’re trying to do, this won’t work.“, you warned her before your team mate caught your attention; “Hayley?“ “Yes, we need to get in line. The game is about to start.“, Hayley Raso reminded you while adjusting the bow in her hair.

Turning into your captain mode you put your armband on:“I’m coming.”  While the CL hymn was playing the Australian forward noticed:” Did you lost your hairband?” Quickly Hayley gave you the extra hairband she had around her wrist. You mouthed a sincere thank you.

This didn’t got unnoticed by Erin who softly elbowed her Norwegian friend:” Have you seen that, Guro?” “What?”, Guro asked confused, she clearly missed the moment her teammate was referring to. Biting her lip the Scottish midfielder answered:” Doesn’t matter, let’s win this game.” “Alright.”, Guro sighed before they went to their starting positions.

The first half begun, and you were eager to prove that you’d give the team of your girlfriend a good fight. Your confidence grew as you fairly tackled Erin to get the ball. Enraged the Scottish player stood up, cursing quietly so only you could hear her words tripping with fury:” What the fuck was that?”   “Next time you got to be faster.”, you replied with a smug smile on your face.  

Under her breath she told you:” Learn to play football next time. That was a foul.” “It wasn’t.”, you shook your head.  Immediately Erin disagreed: “Of course it was.” The tension between you was almost touchable. Later your girlfriend knocked you off your feet. “Hey!”, you protested loudly.

Quickly Athenea del Castillo was at your side, shouting:” That was a foul.” “If that earlier wasn’t a foul, this isn’t either.”, the Scottish midfielder snapped. Slowly you got up, promising her:” You’ll get that back.” And you held your promise only a couple of minutes later you assisted Athenea in scoring the equalizer for Madrid.

But you couldn’t enjoy the celebration with your team as Erin whispered into your ear:” You think you’re so good, huh? You’re still losing.” She was right only a minute after Madrid scored, they did again but this time it was only an own goal, resulting in a 2:1 for the Blues.

“Yes!”, Niamh Charles cheered. Triumphantly Erin turned her head to you:” Told you, you’d lose.” “Get over yourself, Cuthbert.”, you rolled your eyes at her. Her following comment made your heart race even faster: “Don’t be such a sore loser.”  “We still have twenty plus minutes left.”, you reminded her. Confidently she remarked:” That’s not enough time for you.”  

Her words proofed to be right. From a reasonable point of view, you knew that a win wouldn’t have changed the fact that you couldn’t qualify for the next round, the loss still stung. Numbly you could hear Guro happily scream:” We’re qualified, girls!”  “Don’t you want to go over to your girlfriend?”, cautiously Hayley padded your shoulder. Stubbornly you mumbled: “No.”

Confused the Australian player furrowed her eyebrows:” Why not?” “I’m too mad at her right now.”, you replied honestly. The eyes of your teammate turned soft:” We were out anyway.” “I know.”, you sighed deeply.

Smiling Hayley tried to cheer you up:” And we did give them a tough time.” “That’s true. Sorry, I’m not being a good captain, I should comfort you and not the other way around.”, you apologized. Warmly the forward reminded you:” Sometimes even the captain needs to be comforted.”

At the same time Erin said to her teammates:” I’m back in a second.” “Don’t go away for too long!”, Niamh shouted after her grinning. The Chelsea captain of the night shook her head:” I won’t.” “Good!”, Ashley exclaimed cheerfully.

Laughing the Scottish midfielder told them:” You can start celebrating without me.”  With these words she turned to you, her kiss caught you off card, as you mumbled:” Good game, Erin.” “Sorry for what I said during the game. You know I don’t mean it.”, your girlfriend whispered into your embrace, her cheeks flushed.

Startled you looked at her:” You don’t?” “Of course I don’t.”, she answered. Confidently you glanced at her:” But I was right, we didn’t make it easy for you.” “Yeah, you were.”, the Chelsea player admitted.

 A cheeky smile appeared on your lips:” If you kiss me again, I might forgive you.” “Okay, but then I got to leave.”, Erin nodded giving you a more passionate kiss than before. “Alright.”

For a second she rested her forehead against yours: ”Come over to our dressing room when you took care of your teammates.” “I’ll be there.”, you promised her before you went to look after your teammates being back into your captain mode.

“Linda, how are you feeling?”, you asked her compassionate. The Columbian forward responded with a weak smile:” I’m okay.” “Good.”, relief ran through your veins because of the answer of the younger footballer.

Comforting hands padded your shoulder who belonged to Ivana: “Not an easy game.” “Right.”, you had to admit. Reassuringly the older woman continued:” But we’ll continue to grow.” “We’ll.”, you agreed. The defender offered:”You can go over if you want to.” “You girls will be, okay?”, you wanted to know from her. With a motherly smile Ivana waved you off:”Promise.”

You met your girlfriend in her locker room, freshly showered, her blonde hair still wet. “Hi Erin.”, you greeted her. Blushing the Scottish player put a hair string behind her ear:“Hi.” “Was that me?”, guiltily you pointed to a black eye on her body. She gave you a challenging look:” Told you, it was unfair play.” “You weren’t playing nice either!”, you reminded her. Pouting  Erin observed:” You don’t look as bad.”

“Well, I got thicker skin.“, you shrugged with a smirk. Your girlfriend quickly bridged the gap between you two and pulled you towards her. Her fingertips on your skin made you giggle; “Hey, no tickles!“

“You’re lucky it’s only tickles.“, Erin countered. Guro interrupted the two of you by throwing her shirt at you; “Behave, we have children in this room!“ You were suddenly painfully aware of the stares of Erins teammates.

Erin grimaced at Guro; “Do you mean Hannah?“ The young goalkeeper looked up in surprise; “Rude!“ “Sorry.“, Erin grinned back, obviously not even a little bit sorry. “I’m not a child!“, Hannah protested. Your girlfriend casually shrugged and pointed into the direction of her other teammates: “Maybe Guro meant Sjoeke or Aggie.“

These two protested loudly while Hannah raised her eyebrow at Erin; “I hope so!“ Ignoring the rest of her team, Erin turned back towards you; “Want to leave?“ “Please.“, you smiled back.

She quickly grabbed her bag and took your hand; “Let’s go.“ “Bye chicas!“, Guro yelled after you. Millie appeared in the door, Sam on crutches next to her; “You’re leaving already?“ “Not without a hug from you of course!“, you said and let yourself fall into the arms of the tall defender.

“Sorry, took a while to get Sam down the stairs.“, Millie apologized. The Australian striker rolled her eyes. You quickly hugged her too, careful with her knee and crutches; “And hello, Sam.“

“You two were not subtle at all after the game ended.“, she commented smugly. Erin and you shared a knowing smile while she explained; “I had to make up for something.“ “Yeah, for the things you said to each other during the match.“, Millie grinned. “Oh shut up, Millie.“

But the defenders smile only got wider; “Never.“ “How would you even know that?“, Erin asked, a slight hint of exasperation in her voice. Millie touched her fingertips to her mouth; “Lip reading.“

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes in response; “Oh, sure.“ “Now go, you two don’t have much time.“, Millie ordered, making space so you two could pass her and Sam. “You kept us here.“, Erin protested.

She took your hand in hers again; “Let’s leave.“ “Coming.“ As you moved past your friend group, your girlfriend yelled “Bye, girls!“ over her shoulder. “Bye, have fun.“, Sam replied with a smirk while Kristie appeared behind her, wrapping her arms around the strikers waist as they watched you leave; “And off they go.“

“About time. After game sex is the hottest.“, the striker laughed, turning to kiss her girlfriend. Kristie nodded; “Agreed. They wouldn’t let each other get away with anything.“ “That’s too much information!“, Millie complained, pretending that she needs to throw up.

“Sorry, not sorry.“, Kristie shrugged. “I hate that you moved here.“, the defender laughed. With big innocent eyes, Kristie suggested; “Maybe she’ll move to London to next season.“ Seeing the feigned disgust on Millies face, she added; “A girl can dream.“ “Of bringing all your girlfriends here?“

“Yes.”, the American midfielder beamed. The England defender wiggled with her eyebrows: “I see.”  “She’s unstoppable.”, Sam winked at her fiancée. Big eyed Millie looked at her close friend: “Will I have to leave?”

“No, you’re the honorary straight best friend in our squad. Let’s get Same home for no.”, Kristie told her in a friendly tone. Happy with that answer the English player clapped into her hands:” Alright. Come on, Sammy.” “On my way!”, the Australian forward announced while one of her best friends and her fiancée helped her to come home safely.

Meanwhile you had stepped out of Erins shower, wearing some comfy clothes, begging your girlfriend:” Erin, repeat that.” “What?”, she echoed. Serious you added:” What you just said.”

“Pretty sure you heard me the first time. ”, the Scottish woman answered. You bit your lip in response:  “Still.” “Well, we can just ignore it if it upsets you so much.”, the midfielder shrugged her shoulders.  

Swiftly you shook your head:” No, please, say it again.” “I want you to move in with me.”, Erin repeated. Carefully you said:” English clubs are interested in me you know that, right?” “I do.”, your girlfriend affirmed.

Slowly you revealed what you were holding black from her for quite a while now, waiting for the perfect moment to say it:” I might have an agreement with a club in the summer.” “You do?”, the Scottish player looked surprised up.  “Yes.” “So that’s a, yes?”, a hopeful shimmer appeared on her face.

Teasingly you played with her hair: “It’s a yes. I’d love to move in with you. But I won’t join your club.” “That’s okay. I love playing against you.”, Erin grinned at you. A warm laugh escaped your lips:” I knew you’d say that.” “It’s true.”, she confessed.

The smile on your face grew bigger:” Sorry but I like red more than blue.” “Arsenal!”, playfully shocked your girlfriend hit your upper arm. “Yes, bebé.” Dramatically the midfielder groaned:” Oh that’s just horrible.” “So, you take the moving offer back?”, you threw your eyebrows up.

Much softer she told you:“No, I can live with it if I get to see you more often.” “You definitely would.”, you reassured her. Beaming Erin replied: “Then you should take that offer.”  “I’ll.”

“Can’t wait to win the London derby against you.”, the excitement was written all over her face.  Confidently you countered:” Oh no Arsenal win their fair amounts of derbys do I have to remind you they just won the latest?”

“Doesn’t count. You weren’t on the team yet.“, Erin protested. You shrugged nonchalantly; “Just saying.“ “Next time we’ll win again.“, your girlfriend said, half challenge and half promise.

Smirking, you added; “Or you’ll lose.“ Stubbornly, Erin shook her head; “There’s no way.“ “But for now…“, you changed the topic, pulling your girlfriend close to you. “For now?“, she repeated so that you would continue.

“Enough talking.“ “What should we do then?“, she asked, all pretended innocence. You winked at her while you let your hands glide under her shirt; “Something equally as fun.“

[doudouneverte]

Secret Wife?

a/n: let's start this world cup with a little thing...

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Fridolina Rolfo x NORWNT!Reader: NORWNT + SWEWNT x Reader

Summary: You have a secret realtionship with a certain Swedish player and you come out public after her final against Wolfsburg

Type: Fluff

Warning: nothing

word count: 2154

-----------

Opposites attract each other; that is what a lot of people say. In your case, it was totally true. You married a woman who was your opposite in every aspect, even the professional one, Fridolina Rolfö. You both play football, but since you first met at a professional level, you have never played together.

You faced her for the first time in your first season in the Swedish league; she played for Linköping and you for Rosengråd. It was surprising how quickly you became friends after your first match and more a few months later. Except for some teammates, nobody knew about you two; they just assumed you were good friends because you didn't show too much in public, but that didn't mean you weren't there for her. To be honest, you were her number-one fan. Always here when she played, not so far from Malmö, and always cheered for her.

Then 2017 came, and you both received an offer to play for a different championship, the Frauen Bundesliga. It was a great opportunity, but you were a little sad when you learned that Fridolina wouldn't play with you again because she chose Bayern München, where you chose to play for Frankfurt. Even if you were always enemies on the pitch, when you were off, nothing could be better than when you asked her to be your wife one season after she moved to Wolfsburg.

After three years in Germany, you left the country to join one of your favorite clubs when you were younger, Real Madrid. Your first season, even if it had been interrupted, was very great, and you were ready for the next part of history until your wife joined your rivals, FC Barcelona.

Two wives playing for two rival clubs but also playing for two different countries, and that leads us to this day. A friendly game opposing Sweden and Norway—honestly,  you loved this type of match; you always found her very attractive when you played against her, but it was on another level when she wore her national colors.

You were in the locked room, preparing yourself for the match in a few minutes, when your phone buzzed next to you. It was a text from Frido. A few moments later, you were so focused on your conversation with your blonde girl that you didn't notice that everyone was waiting for you for a captain's speech. Maren Mjelde cleared her throat, but you just giggled, visibly whatever the Swedish said was more interesting than this.

"You giggle like a schoolgirl," Ada Hegerberg commented, and you finally looked at your teammates.

"Oh, shut up, Hegerberg," you replied, rolling your eyes. "So, are you finally ready?" you dared to ask.

"Are we....?" Guro Reiten repeated a little offended "I swear I'll..." She didn't have time to finish before she got interrupted by Maren.

"We were actually waiting for you." the defender said, and you looked at everyone.

"Oh sorry. So let's go," you said, standing up and extending your arm, waiting for them to form a circle to start your usual speech.

In the other locker room, the Swedish team was impatient to play—a certain player more than others. "You looked excited." Magda commented, and Frido looked at her, confused.

"Yes, I mean, aren’t you?" Your wife asked.

"Yes, of course I am; I like to play against Guro even if I prefer to play with her." the captain replied.

"I totally understand you; it’s really cool to play with Ingrid, but I don't like to play against her, even if it’s fun," the forward said.

"Oh, I’m a little disappointed. I thought you were talking to Y/n." Kosovare commented.

"What do you mean?"

"We saw you glued to your phone when Magda was doing her usual captain's speech. Great speech, by the way." Zećira said this time getting a little ‘thank you’ from her Chelsea teammate.

"I think it’s Y/n!" Kosse said across the changing room, gaining the attention of everyone. "What? It’s true," she added when she felt every gaze on her. 

"Yes it’s true, but—" The forward tried to defend herself but was cut off by Sofia Jakobsson.

"Why don’t you ever think about playing together? We wouldn’t have to support you missing each other."

"You’ve got a point." Zećira said.

"It’s not that easy. It’s not like she can play with us suddenly." Your wife said.

"Yes but you can always play for the same club. And I don’t want to force you to do anything, but I heard that a Londonian club wouldn’t mind having a new power couple in her team." The goalkeeper commented.

"I need to stop you right now; if they need to play for the same team in London, they will definitely play for Arsenal." Stina protested.

"And why?" Magda asked, raising her eyebrow.

 "Because we all know that Y/n considers Frida like her little sister, and according to that, she’d choose Arsenal." Unfortunately, the conversation couldn’t go further because it was already time to enter the pitch.

The match went pretty well; well, it ended in a draw, but 3-3 is a pretty draw. After the game, you thanked the supporters and made your way to the Sweden team. Even if your relationship wasn’t public, it was not uncommon for the fans to catch you being touchy with the Swedish player; honestly, they loved it. That's one of the reasons they loved when you faced her, of course there was also the sportive part, but they couldn't help themselves every time you interacted together, and it didn’t take a lot of time before some edits shipping you two appeared online.

After a little session of sweaty hugs with Ingrid, much to her dismay, you finally made your way to the third Barcelona player in this match. Some cameras were still recording, and they didn't miss the goofy smile the tall forward gave you—definitely good content for the fans later. "Hey pretty girl," you said, and the captain of Chelsea next to you two rolled her eyes.

"Good game, girls. You played very well." Ingrid said, giving her club teammate a little side hug.

"You too, even if I'm better." Fridolina replied, and you playfully hit her arm. "What? It's true."

"Your only goal was when I didn't defend on you." You reminded her.

"Yeah, I know, but it's still a goal," she said while she opened her arms, and you fulfilled the gap. "You played very well." she whispered before landing a quick kiss on your head.

"Even when you try to be sneaky, you are still so obvious." Frida said.

"Are you jealous?" You joked, "You can come here." You opened your arms, and even if the midfielder tried to resist, she knew she could never deny your hugs. You looked like a little family, and you obviously knew that the fans would edit it, but you were too comfy between your wife and your claimed little sister.

When you broke the hug, you made your way to the changing room with Ingrid and Rolfö, not too far from Frida and Stina. You were talking about anything and everything when the Arsenal forward called you. "Y/n do you ever think about playing with Frido on the same team?"

"Uh uh, don't start that." Zećira said, coming out of nowhere.

You looked at the Sweden players confused. "Don't listen to them; they're just arguing about which is the best team between Arsenal and Chelsea." Fridolina said.

"It's more than that." the keeper protested.

"Let me guess, you just want us to join Arsenal or Chelsea?" you asked.

"Yes." Magda and Sofia said rolling their eyes.

"No!" Stina and Zećira countered, "It's more than that; imagine being with your wife 24/7, training with her, playing with her, and just wearing the same jersey."

"Okay let's not talk about it right now because I'm exhausted, but we'll think about it." you said before heading to your locker room.

The next few weeks you came back to Spain, and you managed to spend a lot of time with Frido after the end of the season before her final at Eindhoven. You tried to not attract attention in the stadium, but it was almost impossible. You couldn’t enter the stadium before some fans of both teams recognized you. And there you took some pictures with them, some of them questioning you about who you were supporting. You were wearing a light jacket, so they couldn’t see your Rolfö’s national jersey. Of course you were there to support your wife, but as a Real Madrid player and fan, you couldn’t say it loudly.

"I’m just here to see some teammates play." You replied with a little smile. Thankfully for you, they let you leave rather quickly. In your seat, you were mentally preparing for the next ninety minutes.

After those ninety minutes, FC Barcelona were sacred European champions for the second time, and Frida scored a goal. You were ecstatic in your seat during the game, acting like a groupie when your blondie touched the ball. When a member of the security came to escort you on the pitch, you were a little shocked because you didn’t really think the Swedish forward would spot you in the crowd, but she definitely did.

On the pitch, you came to congratulate your national teammates, and Ingrid gave you a sweaty hug, making you quickly pull away with a grimace. "You look good in yellow," the midfielder commented.

"But something tells me she would look better in blue and red." Caro Hansen added, and you rolled your eyes.

"Let’s not start it now." You didn't have time to say anything else until you felt arms wrapping around your waist from behind you. you didn't have to turn to know who they belonged to.

"Oh no, the lovebirds are reunited again," Caro said, faking annoyance.

"Hey, don’t you have some Spanish girlfriends you want to see?" You said making them leave, but not before they mimicked how the Swedish player was clinched to you.

"Why do you wear my national jersey?" Your wife asked while her head found her space in the crook of your neck.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked, a little offended.

"I’m rather on the girl’s side this time."

"Oh no, we’ll not start that, not today." You groaned and turned around to finally face her.

"But I really think about what the girls said the last time, and, well, it’s been like, what, six or seven years since we started to play against each other. I know you would rather die than wear a Barcelona kit, but if one day I leave, would you come with me?" She asked with a pout.

"Honey, one day I asked you if you wanted to marry, and you made the mistake of saying ‘yes’ so unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me wherever you go." You joked.

"Even if I receive a proposition from Chelsea?" she tried.

"Okay don’t push your luck, Mrs.Rolfö." You replied dramatically, pushing away from her grip. The tall woman obviously didn’t give up and wrapped you close to her again.

The two of you were so much in your little bubble that you forgot that her team was celebrating and that the stadium was not totally empty when you pushed your toe to land a passionate kiss on her lips. When you heard some wolf whistles from Catalan players and the public cheering loudly, that's when you came back from your trance and remembered that you were not alone.

"Oh my..." you mumbled, hiding your face in your wife’s chest, who was laughing at your action.

"Don’t be shy, I think most of them already knew; it’s not like we’re good at hiding our behavior every time we’re together." Frido joked, "And at least now, everybody would know that you’re off the market, Mrs. Rolfö."

This night, like you assumed, you broke the internet, and a photo of you and Fridolina kissing was on almost every Woso fan’s Instagram stories and some of your teammates’ too. You received a lot of support from some teammates and even other celebrities. Magda and Pernille shared a cute picture of the four of you on a double date just after the Euro, and things went more crazy when Z posted almost all the cute pictures she took of you when you didn’t notice.

"I think that after today, if someone decides to sign one of us, they will definitely have to sign the other." The Swedish player said while she came to lay beside you.

"I still think we could have announced it in a better way." you said after you left your phone on the nightstand.

"Yes, maybe, but right now it’s just the two of us." she said, pressing a shy kiss on your head.

"I love you, Frido."

"And I love you more."

[sunshine-theseus]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder | Jessie Fleming x Reader

Words: 4k Summary: you and jessie go through many ups and downs but things work out in the end Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of depression and taking medication for it, covid didn’t happen, pretending the game vs real madrid was at Stamford bridge not in Spain

Jessie Fleming and I met at the 2015 world cup, both freshly 17 and competing in our first big tournament. Despite the fact we didn’t play each other, I found myself stumbling into her on the sidelines of Canada’s game against The Netherlands. Words were exchanged but we didn’t see each other again until the next year.

We knew we were both on athletic scholarships for the Bruins at UCLA and promised to try and meet outside of training to keep in contact without sport. It was surprising however, when my box was knocked out of my hands as I crashed into the young Canadian, both of us trying to enter the same room. She was clearly struggling to see over her own stuff, stumbling over words as her cheeks flush a very familiar red, trying to apologise.

“J, if you say sorry one more time I’m asking for a new roommate. Which I had no idea we were until now.” I crouch to pick up my books and writing equipment that was in my box as Jessie tries to manoeuvre to her decided side of the room.

I give up and rush to help her when she stumbles over her own foot and nearly goes flying.

“Jessie! You’re going to break something before the season even starts Jesus Christ be careful!” my hands gripped her waist tightly to stop her from tilting forward, then I grab the top box so she can actually see. The same red blush covers her cheeks.

“Sorry, my mum just insisted I try to take all my stuff in as little trips as possible, which is proving to be difficult. I’m sorry about your books.” With her stuff firmly on the ground she finally looks as me.

“They put the Australian and the Canadian in the same room knowing we just basically kicked you out of the Olympics?”

“You did not!” the joke was rare coming from her. She was funny and kind but still rather serious and shy, preferring studying statistics and players over team bonding or spending time with people after a game.

I understood that, I felt that, and that’s how we worked. Us against the world. We trusted our team and confided in them, but we’d really only want each other in times of need. Obviously there were people like Sam or Christine, who were like our big sisters for our respective national teams, but Jessie and I were just drawn to each other.

-

After UCLA came Chelsea. Both of us were about to start our last year of uni when her offer came through, far before mine.

By this point we’d been inseparable for four years, so I worried we’d be split; her making the move to England and me stuck in our dorm. Except it’d be much emptier and lonely, or filled with some stranger’s things.

And it was just like that. Time zones caused issues with keeping in contact. Eventually that became other things. Study, because she still had to finish her course. Team bonding, practice. What would be a call once a day became once a week until it filtered out, and her texts would be answered in seconds while mine sat in wait for whenever she decided she was free.

My offer came in the January transfer window. Emma had been in contact with me for a couple months, clearly trying to convince me, and 6 months ago I wouldn’t have even thought about it. But when I stare at the ‘merry Christmas’ and ‘I got the offer’ messages left unread and think about seeing the girl I thought would never leave me, I take the time offered.

And a week later I find myself sliding into Sam’s spare room groaning into the pillow as she fusses over the Australian snacks I did manage to get through customs.

“What’s got you in a mood chickadee?” I feel the bed dip beside me and her hand rubs my back.

“J.” the older Australian lets out a hum before taking a moment to reply.

“She talks about you all the time. About how much she misses you and everything you got up to at uni. All of which I already know because I hear it every camp.” I can feel the joking eye roll despite not seeing it.

“She talks about me but doesn’t talk to me. That means nothing. And I know she’s busy but so was I. Just because I was captaining a university team instead a stupid professional team doesn’t mean I wasn’t busy or doing something important! And I still kept in contact!” by now I’ve rolled over onto my back and started fiddling with Sam’s tattooed fingers, trying to distract myself from the pit of loneliness and despair that’s been slowly eating my stomach.

I dare not mention to anyone the decline in my mental health or the required psychology sessions Emma was going to provide for me once every few weeks. Everyone knew I was sad and that’s all they needed to know. But once upon a time, Jessie would have known everything, holding my hand tightly the whole way.

“You should sleep, big first day tomorrow. I’ll make you breakfast. Alarm-”

“8:30, I know. Every day, same time. Thank you Sam, really.” She smiles and pats my head before leaving.

-

To say my first day didn’t go well would be somewhat of an understatement. At exactly 8:30 my alarm went off. At 8:32, the pill bottle rattling at the bottom of my bag was fished out and 1 was being washed down by water. At 8:43, Sam was banging on my door calling for breakfast and I was rushing to make sure the pill bottle was hidden after changing. No one needs to know I’m taking anti-depressants, including Sam.

When we pulled into Cobham, I started to feel sick, and I told Sam just that.

“I’ll catch a train home.”

“It’s just nerves, you’ll be fine.”

“No-”

“You stay until at least lunch time, then we’ll see.” A pointed finger is shoved into my face, but I begin to stroll alongside her anyway.

I do almost book it for the nearest train station as soon as I enter the locker room. Sitting in the cubby next to mine, tying her shoelaces, is Jessie Fleming. During the chaos of the move and my first day, I manage to forget the way our numbers are right beside each other.

“You’ll be okay. You don’t even have to talk to her.” Sam whispers as she makes her way to her own cubby, greeting people on her way through.

So I try. Placing my bag in the nook and beginning to change into my training kit without the Canadian even looking up. It’s when I place down the same styled Tiempo Legend 8s I’ve been wearing since they released, that I can see her head turn from the corner of my eye. I don’t acknowledge it, continuing to slide the boots onto my feet and tie them up. But that doesn’t stop her.

“Oh my god! Hey!” there’s a lightness in her voice that I used to be so familiar with and it makes my heart clench.

I take a moment before deciding replying would be too rude for my liking.

“Hi.” Short and simple, and quite blunt.

“I didn’t know you signed, or that you even got the offe-” forget being nice.

“You would’ve known if you bothered to keep in contact with me.” With that I slide out of my seat beside her and make my way to Sam.

-

It gets worse when Emma splits us into pairs for dribbling drills, and she slides me toward Jessie.

“Of course.” I sigh but accept my fate as a ball rolls our way.

“What’s wrong?” a phrase that, coming from her mouth, used to have me spilling every small emotion I was feeling.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on Beans, tell me.” The nickname had been created in our first year of university. She learnt I loved green beans and I’m rather tall, so the name fit. But she didn’t feel like the same person who I let make the funny name.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Because I moved?”

“No! You left for Chelsea and I was happy for you, we had a plan to stay in contact until I followed along to somewhere in England. But you stopped trying. You stopped answering. You left me alone when I needed you the most. I would’ve done anything for you to have the career you deserved but you got it, without me. I just thought I’d still have my best friend when it happened.”

To say that training was tense from then on wasn’t a stretch. Emma never paired us up and any time one of us entered the locker room, everyone else would wait in silence for a burst similar to the one on the pitch. It never came.

It was after my first session with the psychologist that things began to change.

Because the psych was only here for me, Emma was kind to lend her office to us for the 50 minutes while she did other work around the grounds. I assume the girls were grateful to escape the tension for the moment.

“Same time, 2 weeks from now! It’s good you’re making progress!” The rather lovely lady shouts just as I’m closing the door, waving and smiling in thanks.

But as I turn around, I nearly bump into a small figure. A rather familiar one at that. Jessie begins to fall backwards but I grip her waist, holding her in place. It’s a familiar scenario, the feeling of my hands on her waist and her burning red cheeks are something I struggled to ever forget.

“T-thanks” her cheeks burn that same red.

“No worries.” I mumble in reply as I remove my hands, taking a step back.

“Who were you talking to? That didn’t sound like Emma. And what are you making progress on?” the questions don’t come rapidly but I still struggle to process them. Jessie’s smart, she can put two and two together, so I should tell her. But what if she laughs? There was a time where the thought wouldn’t have even crossed my mind, she’s not that type of girl. But things change.

“I- I-” Jessie places a gentle hand on my arm and nods, confirming it’s okay to take my time, but please continue. I sigh.

“She’s a psychologist.”

“A sport psychologist?”

“Well yes and no. I… I’ve been diagnosed with depression, and Emma wants me to have someone professional to talk to.” Her grip tightens but I know it’s in concern.

“When- when did you…”

“A couple months ago. Don’t worry, it wasn’t just because of you, a lot of things happened.”

“But it was partially because of me. I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been. You’ve always been there for me and I got here and treated you like shit. Discarded you like you were nothing. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” tears well up in her whisky brown eyes, but I smile.

“J, if you say sorry one more time, I’m asking for a new roommate for the away match against Man City. Which I did know we are… for once.”

“You can’t just forgive me.”

“I’m not, it’ll take time, but I want my best friend back. Sprout.” Jessie charges forward and wraps her arms around my waist.

“I’d do anything.” Her voice is muffled as her head presses into my chest, but I smile.

~~~~~

Things changed once again a few months after that. The 2020 Olympics had been delayed due to natural disasters, but we still found ourselves milling around the Olympic village together in our very little spare time. I also found myself admiring her for every little thing, every detail. Eventually I had to admit to myself that I’d developed a crush on the girl.

“What’s going on in that busy brain of yours?” Jessie had been by my side every step of the way with my mental health after she found out, and this question wasn’t uncommon, but the answer would be.

“I know this could ruin things, I’m very aware of that, but I have to tell you now otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to.” Gaging her reaction was difficult, Jessie was a very stoic person.

“I-, I’ve found myself growing feelings for you. Feelings that surpass best friends, or how I feel when you show up for me. I like you, a lot. And I need you to know that. Standing in the middle of a pathway surrounded by half naked athletes in Olympic Village, I like you.” I look her in the eyes. Those burnt umber eyes, so warm and comforting, that always draw me in.

“I really like you too. Everything about you. I want to care for you and be there when you need me. I want to wake up in your arms and be able to admire every feature as the sun beams down on you like the miracle you are. I would even go as far as saying I desperately want to be your girlfriend.” I barely let Jessie finish what she’s saying before I lean down, a significant way, and kiss her with everything in me.

~~~~~

2 and a half years later and Jessie hasn’t left my side since. Most of our quarrels are just that, silly fights that are solved by the end of the night. We moved in together after 3 months and were rarely been seen apart.

That included tough games.

Real Madrid was our first game of the Champion’s League season, and we knew it was going to be hard. They were physical most importantly, so we had to play to that. We knew that when we were up 2-1 in the 78th minute.

“Jessie Fleming challenges Athenea Del Castillo, barley missing the ball and clipping Athenea on the foot! Oh, and the ref is calling for a penalty. I’m certain first contact was outside the box.” Is what would be heard by anyone watching the match through a screen, but you didn’t need a commentator to know the ref made an unfair call.

The contact was clearly outside the box and yet we’re forced to line up and watch Olga Carmona take the wrongly rewarded shot, me grasping Jessie’s hand in my own as a way to reassure her.

It’s obvious the referees are against us when Niamh makes a shot on goal, the ball sliding in, but it’s claimed offside. Something to do with Sam supposedly messing with the defence, another false claim. There’s nothing we can do when the final whistle blows and we’re tied, all of us dropping to the ground in exhaustion and disappointment.

After shaking hands with the Madrid players and briefly talking with Hayley to catch up and talk about things that happened between our last camp and now, I travel toward Jessie.

My girlfriend stands solemnly with her head in her hands. I managed to pull them away momentarily to see the tears drifting down her cheeks, but she’s pulling her hands away and turning around before I can ask what’s wrong.

“Darl, it’s not you’re fault.” I don’t want to invade her space while she’s upset so I walk around her and simply stand, hoping she’ll reach for me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Jess-”

“Leave me alone Y/n.” not another word is uttered as she turns toward Fran and Niamh and walks away from me.

I similarly turn to Sam and Erin, with a shocked look, jaw hanging and rejected tears looming on my water line.

“She probably just needs to be alone.” As Erin tries to comfort me, we all turn to look at the subject of the conversation, only to see her being comforted by Fran, Niamh and Ashley, despite her effort to insist she’s fine.

“Maybe I didn’t push hard enough?”

“No you should never push when they clearly need space.” Sam places a reassuring hand on my shoulder

“But why is it only me she needs space from? I’m supposed to be the one she seeks comfort in. That’s what girlfriends do.”

“I don’t know chickadee.”

-

I expect Jessie to already be back at our apartment by the time Erin drops me off. Our shared car had been taken from the parking lot at the stadium and Jessie had disappeared, so those dots connected themselves. But our designated parking space is empty as I stroll along the bitumen.

There are no familiar white shoes next to the door in the same exact spot she puts them every day, no kit bag hanging on a hook, waiting to be washed tomorrow. No Canadian waiting in our bed, curled up in one of my already oversized shirts or hoodies and shorts, begging me to hold her.

I try not to worry when I call her and she doesn’t pick up. Maybe she went the long way and there was traffic? So I call Niamh to ask her if she knows where Jessie went. She doesn’t have an answer. Then I try Fran, and Zecira, and even Emma.

I ask everyone to try and call her too, Sam offering to take Kristie and search every corner of London, Erin offering the same. It’s midnight by the time I give up trying to contact her, asking Aggie if I could borrow her car tomorrow to look around if she wasn’t back, her living down the road from us. The young forward is insistent on joining me if it comes to it.

When I wake up the next morning and find Jessie curled up against me, in one of my hoodies and shorts, relief washes over me. Her brown curls are messy, her soft pink lips cracked open to allow air into her lungs. The sun trickles in through the curtain and lights up her face, freckles looking like bursts of light against her skin. Her eyes are still puffy from last night and tears have dried upon her cheeks, and I can’t resist the urge to reach up and lightly wipe them away.

As my thumb drags across her tan skin, tracing her face, her eyes flutter open, and I remember how easy it is to get lost in them. So warm and inviting.

“Mornin’ honey.” I press a gentle kiss to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead and her eyelids.

“I’m sorry for last night. I just felt horrible, if only I didn’t make the tackle.”

“I know darl, but that’s what I’m here for. I love you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you yeah? I was bloody worried though.” Jessie nestles her head into the crook of my neck and nods, pressing her own kisses on any skin she could reach.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her up until she’s laying on my chest instead. My cold hands sneak under her hoodie and she jumps from the shock, swatting at my hands beneath the fabric.

“I reckon I make us some tea and brekkie and then we can do whatever you want all day. How’s that sound?” I flip us over so Jessie can go back to sleep for a while, but she clings onto me, pulling me down aggressively by the front of my old Chelsea travel shirt. Her lips press against mine with energy and love and I get caught up in the feeling. A moan slips past someone’s lips, which of us I’m not quite sure, but I slowly pull away, trailing kisses down her neck until I reach her collar bone.

“Let’s save that energy for later yeah?” I swiftly wink as I finally roll off the bed.

-

I’m making scrambled eggs when I feel Jessie’s arms wrap around my waist. She presses soft kisses across my back as I sway us back and forth to the slow jazz song spewing from the record player.

The next song comes on and I abandon the meal completely, turning off the stove and twisting myself in Jessie’s hold so I can face her. I take one of her hands in mine and rest the other on her waist, her spare landing on my shoulder.

“Put your head on my shoulder; Hold me in your arms, baby” the lyrics continue as we follow along, her head resting against my chest, my chin balanced on top. We dance slowly through the kitchen, the music carrying throughout the house.

As the song finishes, I dip Jessie, leaning over her as her leg kicks out. My gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips and within seconds I’m kissing her again, still in the dip. When I pull her back up, she jumps into my arms and pulls my lips to meet hers for more, the force making me stumble back into the counter behind me.

“I want to slow dance with you around our house when we’re old and can barely kick a ball anymore. Our kids and grandkids playing around while it just feels like the two of us. Because it’s always been the two off us and I never want that to change.” Jessie whispers against my lips. My heart clenches with love as I take her in.

“Will you marry me?” The words escape both our lips almost in complete synchrony. I almost drop her, but my grip on her thighs upholds as I kiss her again, and again, until I can’t kiss her anymore.

-

“I stole this video from Y/n’s phone not long after Jessie and her broke the news of their engagement. Y/n had texted me that morning saying she wanted ideas for a ‘day in the life of a woman in love’ video she planned on making that very day, and I knew that she would have forgotten all about the phone while she and the love of her life shared a special memory together.” Sam takes a pause to look at Jessie and I, sitting side by side at the front of the room.

“What isn’t shown in the video, is the ring that was sitting in the pocket of Yn’s shorts, waiting to be place on the only hand it was made for. The ring went with her everywhere for at least a month before this cute dance proposal. Every day in training, Y/n would tell me a new plan she had come up with to ask Jessie to marry her, and I always told her ‘you should do it when the moment feels right. Don’t force it.’, as I clearly had experience with this sort of thing… And she told me that was a bunch of absolute bullshit.” Our friends and family laugh while my wife’s face drops in shock, her elbow lightly nudging my side. I let out a snicker and kiss her cheek, wiping off the lipstick residue that is left behind.

“Well it turns out I was right. As always. And I’m honoured to be standing here as a best woman in front of two of my best friends, the most amazing young players out there, two people who were made for each other; sculpted by the stars and the earth, to be in each other’s lives, celebrating that love. You’ve both overcome a lot, personally and as a couple, you deserve this love.” A tear escapes my eye as I stand to hug Sam.

“Now can the two nerds please make their way to the dance floor for their first dance?” I take Jessie’s hand in mine and pull her along.

Her suit coat is left on the back of my chair and her waistcoat is unbuttoned and she looks fucking good. Her hair rests on her shoulders and her slack pants fit perfectly around her thighs. Jessie holds part of my dress train, so we don’t trip as we hold each other in similar fashion to the day that led to this, the same song playing on the large speakers in each corner of the room.

“Put your head on my shoulder Whisper in my ear, baby Words I want to hear, tell me Tell me that you love me too”.

Jessie stands on her tippy toes, my heels not helping our height difference.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙿𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙴

description: In which one of Chelsea's defenders is sick of losing to her girlfriend and her girlfriend is sick of being blocked by her own lover...

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athenea del castillo x female reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying athenea is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: language, bad google translation, angst, also just fluff

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y/n just posted on their story

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y/n just posted on their story

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atheeneeaa just posted on her story

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y/n huffed out a breath, begging for the half time whistle to blow as she chased down her girlfriend, quickly shoulder checking her from the ball.

Athenea rolls down, crying out in annoyance as y/n sends a quick pass to Niamh, watching as her team quickly work, Sam managing to sneak a goal just before the whistle blew.

y/n threw her hands up, cheering as Jess jumped on her back, yelling about her pass to Niamh. Emma sent y/n a thumbs up and a nod, the blonde manager the only one to know about her and Athenea, other than y/n's best friends Millie Bright and Rachel Daly.

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y/n hadn't been able to sleep the night prior to this, nerves of facing her girlfriend for the first time since the world cup final haunted her. She was sat in the hotel garden, looking out when Emma saw her from her room.

The manager had gone down to tell her defender off, knowing how important the girl was defensively and with her set pieces, but stopped when she heard the girl speaking a language she didn't even know she could.

"Ambos somos demasiado leales para nuestro propio amor y no quiero que eso nos haga daño a largo plazo." She had whispered to her girlfriend, phone in her hand.

We are both too loyal for our own good love, and I don't want it to hurt us in the long run.

"Estaremos bien, sol, siempre lo estaremos." Athenea had promised her.

We'll be alright sunshine, we always are.

"Yeah, well. I'd much rather see you in a Chelsea shirt tomorrow." y/n had huffed to her girlfriend who let out a light laugh.

"Vamos Real Madrid." Athenea hummed and y/n chuckled.

"You Del Castillo are a fool if you think you will get past Chelsea." y/n chuckled.

"Si soy un tonto. Soy tu tonto." Athenea hummed.

If I am a fool, I am your fool.

"Será mejor que nos vayamos a la cama mi amor." y/n sighed into the phone.

We best get to bed, my love.

"Te veré mañana, te amo." Athenea had hummed.

I will see you tomorrow, I love you.

"Te amo." y/n had repeated.

I love you

Then the phone was off and y/n was once again left alone, or so she thought as she wondered why they were still hiding their love from the world.

"I didn't know you could speak Spanish." Emma stated and y/n froze, she turned and winced at her manager, sending her a sheepish wave.

Emma sighed, any annoyance at the 22 year old for being out of bed late left her when she had heard how heartbroken the girl sounded on the phone to her lover.

"How long?" Emma asked, nodding at the phone.

"Since we were 17." y/n answered her, not bothering to hide it now.

"5 years?" Emma asked in shock and y/n nodded. "No one knew for five years?" She asked again.

"Our families do, yeah, and Millie and Rachel on my side know. But that is it." y/n hummed.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Emma had asked confused.

"Because all people do is make up stories, rumours they can't do that to a relationship they don't know exists." y/n explained and Emma nodded.

"So, you lost to her at the world cup." Emma said. "Will you lose tomorrow?" She asked.

"No, not tomorrow. Vamos Chelsea." y/n had grinned at her manager who clapped her on the back.

"Come on kid, get some sleep." Emma hummed and the girl mock saluted and waddled away, leaving Emma shaking her head.

"5 years." She whispered incredulously as she followed the player inside.

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Now, in game, with Emma's thumbs up, y/n knew she had done a good job. 2-1 up before half time and potential to extend that lead as they walked toward the tunnel.

Sam jumped onto y/n's back, smiling from her goal as she pinched y/n's cheek, Millie, currently unplaying, telling her to stop annoying the younger girl.

"Surprise mother fucker." y/n suddenly said, spinning wildly as Sam screamed in shock, the defender stopped and Sam jumped off, only to crash to the floor dizzy.

The locker-room erupted in laughter at the star striker who pouted as the defender helped her up and they waited for Emma and their team talk.

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Ten minutes into the second half, something was clear. And that was that Athenea was gunning for her secret girlfriend. Any time y/n had the ball, Athenea would be over her, and not always in-line with the rules.

Chelsea currently had a corner, and as per set piece request, y/n waited patiently just outside the box, Athenea noticed her, looking back at Jess Carter and Niamh Charles who were still holding the back line.

Athenea ran forward, jostling her shoulder into y/n's back slightly, but the Chelsea player huffed and pushed her weight back, causing a small shoving fit to happen.

y/n let out a shout of annoyance at the ref, who seemed to finally notice the predicament. However, Athenea hadn't and shoved again, y/n rolled her eyes and keeled forward.

It was dramatic, y/n knew so, it was hard to knock her down, but as soon as she hit the grass the whistle was blown and a bright yellow card shown in her girlfriend's direction.

Athenea let out an annoyed call, but stalked away when the ref glared. The corner was finally taken, it bounced from a defender's head straight to the feet of y/n and she fired.

The ball seemed to ricochet at the back of the net as Athenea let out a curse in Spanish, but y/n ignored it as she raced to Sam and threw herself at her, the Australian catching her as she cheered.

It was y/n's tenth goal for Chelsea in one year and y/n cheered at the small amount of Chelsea fans who had followed them to Spain. She kissed her badge as she walked back, high fiving Jess and Niamh as she sent a thumbs up to Ann in goal.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with rough tackles and fast plays, y/n almost losing a limb at one point she felt. She could see Emma discussing about taking her off and as they lined up to another Chelsea corner, she wanted to make a difference.

Sam had directed her into the box this time, Niamh on the outside if needed. Athenea had followed and the two began jostling, the corner was taken, and before anyone could blink, it had bounced off y/n's head and into the net.

"Holy shit!" y/n yelled chasing after Sam who was screaming as well.

Athenea let out another curse, her team now 4-1 down and as they walked back, her girlfriend grinning made it worse. Play restarted and as minutes ticked by, the 78th minute almost done, Athenea ran at the goal.

y/n let out a sigh and chased after, making the decision and sliding down, her feet kicking the ball as Athenea fell on top of her. The Spanish lady groaned and stood up, shouting in annoyance.

"She got the ball, she got the ball." The ref denies and Athenea turns to shoulder barge y/n, but the English girl beats her too it and essentially shoulder checks her onto the ground.

"There's your foul." y/n hissed and Jess immediately pulled her away as a yellow was show in her direction. She was pulled off after, Emma telling her she was lucky it wasn't a red.

The game ended the way she left it. 4-1. And even though they had won, y/n was not in any way happy. Millie had wrapped her in a hug, knowing the upset that was coursing through her veins.

y/n went around, shaking a few players hands, conversing in their native language which shocked them. Finally she approached Athenea.

"Buen juego" y/n said, holding her hand out.

good game

Athenea looked like she was about to cry but y/n knew her well enough to know it wasn't about the game. She and Athenea were both loyal to a fault to their clubs, their countries, but they had never been like that.

They had known each other so long, understood so much of each other and yet were still learning things everyday and in that moment, the crowd, the game, the world no longer mattered, only their relationship.

"Lo siento, estaba tan enojada, y yo ..." Athenea began, but y/n hushed her.

I am so sorry, I just was so angry and I...

"It's okay. It's okay. I was an asshole too Thea." y/n promises, the nickname slipping from her lips before she had registered.

Athenea had always wondered what people would say if they were to find out about the two. They had been hidden for so long now, it seemed almost laughable.

"Lo siento." y/n repeated, holding her hand out.

Athenea had another idea however and tugged the taller girl in for a hug, the two hugging rather tightly as all their teams paused in shock.

Sam leaned over to Millie, the blonde not looking surprised like everyone else, she looked over to her manager who just continued talking with the Real Madrid Manager the two clearly aware also.

"That doesn't look like competitors." Sam says to Millie as the two pull away.

"Ya no me importa esconderme más." Athenea whispers to her lover, the girl watching her.

I do not care for hiding no more.

"Promise?" y/n asked and Athenea nodded and y/n grinned, leaning down to place a long kiss on her lover's lips.

It was almost comical, the reaction of shouts from the players and fans, trying to grasp what was going on as the two pulled away, swarmed by blue and white shirts.

"Ay!" Athenea called, her voice sharp as her team shut up.

"Yes, Athenea and I are together, no we didn't feel the need to share it." y/n explains as Sam stutters.

"How long?" Lauren asks confused and scratching her head.

"5 years." Athenea shrugs and once again it chaos descends.

"Surprise?" y/n says to them, before she grabs her girlfriend and runs off down the tunnel.

"Motherfucker!" Sam says before the group chase after.

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y/n just posted

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tagged atheeneeaa

y/n I supposeeeee 5 years is long enough...

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atheeneeaa just posted

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tagged y/n

atheeneeaa esperando seis

waiting for six

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samanthakerr20 just posted on her story

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twitter/X

username1: 5 YEARS?? 🤯🤯🤯

username2: 5 WHOLE FUCKING YEARS - NOT A SINGLE PERSON SUSPECTED WONDERED WHATTT 😱😱

username3: this is why I have trust issues

username4: I'm just so confused on how they managed to hide a WHOLE ass relationship??? 😭

username5: HARD LAUNCH HARD FUCKING LAUNCH

^

username6: they snogged on pitch? Not exactly Hard launch but more fucking get with it launch!

see more comments...

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END

added a lil creative liberty and lengthened the time they had been dating to extend thy drama!

Hope you enjoyed !

also this was supposed to be up last night but ya girl went out and got drunk lmaoooo ! xx

-

Queenie ! x

[the-offside-rule]

Baby prompts!

These Prompts are SOLELY for the footballers, not for the drivers and once a player is requested, the prompt will be crossed off and the player will not be used again

1) Attending a baby scan - Pablo Gavi (FCBarcelona)

2) Learning how to wrap the baby in a blanket -Ben Chilwell (Chelsea FC)

3) Playing peek-a-boo while shopping - Pedri Gonzalez (FCBarcelona)

4) Taking a pregnancy test - Ruben Dias (Manchester City)

5) Overthinking parenting - Jude Bellingham (Real Madrid)

6) Good-cop Bad-cop parenting - Trent Alexander Arnold (Liverpool)

7) Singing a lullaby to the baby to make it sleep - Eric Garcia (FCBarcelona)

8) One of the parents waking up to tend to the baby - Kylian Mbappe (Paris Saint Germain)

9) Baby clothes shopping after having baby - Anthony Gordon (Newcastle United)

10) The baby's first match - Mason Mount (Manchester United)

11) Wearing their dad/mom's jersey - João Felix (FCBarcelona)

12) Family vacation - Leah Williamson (Arsenal)

13) Pregnancy cravings - Dominik Szoboszlai (Liverpool)

14) The team giving a team onesie - Jack Grealish (Manchester City)

15) Post title win celebrations - Ferran Torres (FCBarcelona)

Also, if you have any baby Prompt ideas, send them along anyways x