#manchester utd women

[skipper1331]

Obviously in love // Grace Clinton

a/n: based off this request:)

Grace Clinton liked you.

You liked Grace Clinton.

Everybody knew.

Everybody but the two of you.

Several occasions showed exactly that.

-

It started with the many superstitions the two of you had or rather shared. The girls would always tease you about it while both of you claimed and often argued that you‘d play horrible if not doing so.

1.) Grace always had to do your hair. Each time she would do a different hairstyle, each of them done perfectly as your hair wouldn‘t ever get in the way, no matter what happened.

2.) You had to tie her boots. Yes, she was able to do it herself, (like you were capable of doing your hair yourself) but something about you tying her shoes gave her enough confidence to shoot from every angle and distance on the pitch. And score goals.

3.) "ready to win?"

"Ready whenever you are"

-

"Popcorn!" Celin shouted as she entered the living room with three bowels of popcorn balancing in her hands.

The Tottenham girls were sat around the couches, arm chairs and bean bags as the movie marathon was about to begin.

Grace and you shared a bean bag, yourself sitting in between her legs while your back rested against her front and her arms were loosely wrapped around your mid section. "Try not to fall asleep to soon, yeah pretty girl?" the midfielder purred, in responds your hands pinched her thighs "If i remember correctly it was you who snored like a grizzly bear the last time" you giggled as Gracie attacked you with pokes in your side. She only stopped when she felt a smack against the back of her head, "movie starts" the captain stated. You settled back in her arms while she pulled you closer.

Her arms brought you a type of comfort nobody ever could.

-

It was save to say that Grace loved the spare key she had to your home. She used it at every opportunity she got, opening the door when you were with her "I have my own key, I can open the door for us" proudly showing the key on her key chain. Or other than that, letting herself in when you weren‘t there as she made herself a home and even using the key when you were at home but didn‘t expect her to come over.

You stood in the kitchen, preparing your dinner when you felt arms snuggling around your waist, a head resting on your shoulder. You shrieked, caught completely off guard as you yet melted in the grasp, your favourite scent filling the air.

"Gracie! You promised me!" you grumbled, turning around as you stared at the midfielder with crossed arms, "you can‘t just come over and use the spare key! It‘s for emergencies"

"It is an emergency!" she defended herself, arms up in surrender.

"What‘s the emergency, hm?"

"I missed you" she stated, pulling you close before she hid her face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something inaudible.

You sighed, asking "Do you want some dinner?" your fingers combing through her hair.

"Yes, please"

-

"You‘re staring" the voice of Beth appeared next to you, calling you back to reality.

"What did you say?"

"You‘ve got something in your eye" she repeated as you looked at her, "what? Where?" trying to find what and in which eye.

"Grace"

You glared at her while she laughed her ass off.

"Shut up!" you hit her arm, Grace already skeptically looking at the two of you from the other side of the pitch, about to make her way over.

"Come one, you like her" Beth said now in an softer tone, "and she likes you"

"We‘re best friends!" you replied, slight anger in your voice.

"Whatever you say, babes"

-

After tossing and turning for hours, you came to the realization that you weren‘t able to sleep. You didn‘t why but it annoyed you. Physically you were tired, your eyes closing every now and then but you just couldn’t fall into a deep slumber.

Not knowing what to do, but desperately in the need and want of sleep, you reached for your phone.

"Hello?" The sleepy voice rasped.

"Gracie?"

"What‘s wrong? Are you okay?" She shot up from her bed, you never called at such a late hour and with the shakiness in your voice she thought of the worst.

"I don‘t know, sorry. Forget about it" you mumbled, regretting that you called her at 3am.

"Wait-" but you had already hung up. You would find a way to sleep.

On the other side of the phone, Grace was already out of bed, throwing a hoodie and joggers over her pyjama. She raced through the apartment, every possible light on, searching for eventually needed stuff, not being bothered by the noises she made which woke up her flatmate.

"What are you doing? It‘s in the middle of the night" Celin said, leaning in her door frame while she rubbed her eyes.

"Something’s wrong"

"Do we have an intruder?!" she yelled, grabbing for the nearest weapon in her room.

"What? No. Something‘s wrong with my- Y/N"

Celin watched Grace pace through the kitchen, collecting your favourite snacks which she had stored in her home in case you hung out here, craving some of them.

"When are you going to tell her that you like her?"

"We‘re best friends"

"Are you telling me that or yourself? Everybody knows you like each other"

In silence, she put on her shoes, backpack filled with essentials before she rushed out of the house.

When she opened the door, she was met with darkness. Because of this, she assumed that you were in your bedroom. Gently, she opened the door-

"What the fuck!" you yelled, frightened. You switched on your lamp, staring at the midfielder, "you scared the shit out of me!" suddenly wide awake.

"I scared the shit out of you? You scared the shit out of me!" she replied, putting down her backpack and walking over to 'her' side of the bed - the side she slept in when she was staying over. "What are you doing here?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"You called me and then hung up on me all of sudden." she slipped under the duvet, closing the distance, "I was worried" her hands found your waist, pulling you in her grasp before she continued, "what‘s wrong? There’s a reason you called me, so please don‘t say 'nothing'"

Looking away from her, you could feel your cheeks heating up embarrassingly.

"I couldn’t- can‘t sleep" you muttered, "and I can always sleep when you‘re here, so-"

"you thought asking me to come over would help until you realized it’s three in the morning?" she finished your sentence.

you nodded.

"I‘m sorry"

"Don’t be, I’m glad you called me" the girl tangled your legs together, resting her head on the pillow, "Besides, it's a full moon, no wonder you couldn't sleep"

With that being said, you hugged her back, resting your head on her chest like you always did.

And within a few minutes you were asleep, the rhythm of her heartbeat lulling you into a slumber.

-

Derbies were always rough matches, especially when it was Arsenal.

As it was now.

Grace and you were both in the starting lineup, excited to play against the gunners - some of your national teammates.

"Ready to win?" you asked Gracie, the girl already staring at you with heart eyes (which was unnoticed by you).

"Ready whenever you are" she replied, smiling - an unspoken rule to have this small conversation while you waited in the tunnel - Grace always lined up behind you.

In the first half, both teams had their chances, sadly none of Tottenhams and thankfully none of Arsenals leading to a goal.

With Katie McCabe on your side, it was rather physically exhausting, the Irish woman challenging you in more than one way. Each time, Grace saw you hitting the ground, she was about to rip Katie‘s head off, only calming down when she saw you get up right away. Yet her anger was still very much present in the break. She was holding your hand tightly, in the need of your touch to reduce her anger.

In the first few minutes after halftime, Alessia opened the score, fueling more pressure on the team for the equalizer. The game got rougher and more physical as tackles came sliding in from multiple players.

When Tottenham was awarded a corner kick and it came flying in your direction, you jumped up, trying to head it somewhere near the goal. But instead of hitting the ball, you felt another head smack against yours.

Grace watched in horror as you went down while her legs started to work on their own - sprinting towards you. Blood trickled down your forehead, making the midfielders stomach twist. Multiple people were at your side, including the Arsenal player who caused your injury. She pushed everybody aside, kneeling down next to you, "Get the fuck away from my girl" pure venom laced in her voice as she shoved the gunner away, her full attention on you and you only. You had a nasty cut on your forehead, eyes barely staying open. You could hear your favourite voice talking, but you didn‘t understand what she was saying - was she even talking to you? All you knew was that her hand was holding yours. You knew her touch. You‘d always recognize her touch - no matter what.

"Mate, what‘s your problem?!" Katie McCabe snarled, matching her attitude while pulling her on her collar. "My problem?!" Grace jumped up, her hands bloody from holding yours, "She‘s fucking bleeding"

"And? Everybody hurts themselves. It‘s a physical game after all!"

"She‘s not just anyone!" with that she shoved Katie to the floor, all her anger bubbling over. Of course, the defender was up on her feet in less than 10 seconds, starting to shove Grace around, both of them yelling at each other.

Katie had to be held back by Leah and Kim while Beth and Ashleigh pulled Grace away who was still shouting at the Irish woman.

How dare she to say anything about you?!

-

Winning the fa cup against Manchester United was amazing and something massive. Tottenham made history that day. Unfortunately, Grace wasn‘t allowed to play yet that didn’t stop her from cheering for the spurs, especially for you. When you scored the opening goal, Grace thought her heart might explode with all the pride she felt and when Marta made it 3-1 in the 89‘. The deal was settled.

After receiving your medals and the pitch-celebrations died down, the team decided to go out tonight.

When you entered the bar/club, you were met with very loud but fancy music, people dancing everywhere and a few of your mates sitting at a table chatting. Not in the mood to dance just yet, you joined them, greeting everybody before taking a seat in Grace‘s lap - nothing new.

Her mouth fell open as she almost drooled at the sight of you, "you look- wow" she breathed out, completely in love with you.

"Thank you!" you grinned, " you don‘t look bad yourself" while checking her out the best you could - but indeed, she wasn‘t looking bad, she looked gorgeous.

"Do you want a drink?" she asked, squeezing your hips.

"Yes, that would be nice" you replied, making no move to get up, "don‘t you want to ask what drink I‘d like?"

"I know you quite well by now" with that she got up before gently guiding you back down in her chair.

While Celin tried to make conversation with you, you only had eyes for the midfielder, admiring her from afar. You frowned when a lady approached her and started talking to her. Your jaw clenched, chest tightening as you glared daggers into the woman’s head. What‘s her problem? the strangers hand touched Grace‘s arm as she discreetly stepped closer. "Someone is flirting with Y/N‘s girl" one of the girls teased, your friends laughing at her joke. That comment made your jealousy grow, your hands balling into fists as you tried to keep your cool. "Aren‘t you going to do something?" Charli asked, sensing your frustration.

With a huff you got up, marching over to the beast who was talking to the beauty.

Stepping between both of them, you leaned against the counter, "hi! I‘m her girlfriend and you are?" your voice sounded firm and stern, Grace taken aback by your statement and your sudden outburst.

"Sorry" the girl was quick to flee the scene, not wanting any drama as well because she was scared and intimidated by you and your presence.

After the girl was gone, Grace grabbed your hips, pulling your back against her front, "What was that?" she asked, her voice raspy.

"That creature was flirting with you" you replied stubbornly, crossing your arms as you tried to leave her touch.

"Stop" Grace grumbled, pulling you back, "relax" she ordered softly, her arms wrapping fully around your midsection. As on cue, you melted in her embrace, letting all anger flow away.

"So, what was that?"

"What was what? I just wanted my drink" you answered yet defensively.

"None of that, it‘s me" she whispered as you intertwined your fingers, "were you jealous?"

You sighed, "yes"

The young lioness froze, she didn‘t expect you to be straight up honest with her. She knew you had never lied to her and she wouldn‘t assume that you would ever lie at her, but she indeed thought that you would avoid admitting your obvious jealousy.

"I don‘t like it when other people flirt with you" you mumbled after you had turned around, looking at her.

Not wanting to push you any further, she kissed your forehead in responds before guiding you on the dance floor.

"They‘re disgustingly cute" Charli told Celin as they watched the two of you dance.

"And obviously so in love"

[enwoso]

Hi! I have a request for Ella Toone. Could you do one where Ella talks about reader during one of the Tooney and Russo Show podcast?

OPPOSITE SIDES — ella toone

masterlist

"oh this is a good question for you ella! what is your favourite memory with y/n" vick smiled up from the ipad as a small smile flashed across ella's lips, it was cliche answer but there was too many to choose from.

today on the tooney and russo show it was an open episode where the girls were answering questions which fans had sent in, and this wasn't the first time you had been mentioned in this episode. the fans seemingly loving your relationship with the fellow manchester united midfielder.

"oo this is so hard, can i not just say all of them" ella groaned as alessia booed into the mic saying that was such a boring answer, as her and vick both pressured the brunette to answer the question.

"ok if i had to choose one" ella hummed trying to pin point just one memory. "probably when i managed to get her in a man united jersey"

"you didn't- how?" alessia gasped clearly never hearing this story. it being quite the intriguing one considering she had been on the end of the countless complaints from ella when she had tried to get you to wear her united jersey when you were going to watch her play when you didn’t have a match of your own to play but you always refused. as you you were a life long man city fan and even played your entire career of club football there.

ella cleared her throat as she began to tell the story.

the sun bleared through the blinds in the room which you shared with your girlfriend, a small groan leaving your lips as you opened your eyes. your head slightly throbbing from the one too many glasses of red wine you’d had last night.

not remembering what time you got home, but remembering ella picked you up as she basically forced the wine glass out your hand and replaced it with a glass of water hoping to sober you up a little — it didn’t.

by the time you got home you were drifting in and out of sleep as ella wiped your makeup off and helped you get changed knowing you’d thank her for it in the morning, maybe.

glancing down at the brunette hair which was sprawled out across your chest as small shallow breaths came from her lips.

beginning to move the girl gently as she started to stir, “don’t go” ella whispered, her eyes still glued shut as a small chuckle came from your lips as you slipped out of bed heading for the bathroom.

not bothering to look in the mirror not wanting to see the state which last night had left you in — but maybe if you had you would have seen the certain manchester shirt you were in.

using the bathroom before heavy footsteps were made going back towards the warmth of your bed and your girlfriend’s arms. seeing that ella had moved, facing the way of the door as a smug smile was across her sleepy face.

“wow you look so fit in that top-“ ella mumbled as you glanced down to see the red top, before having to take a double look when you realised what red shirt it was. a manchester united shirt.

a loud gasp left your lips as you scrambled to take it off leaving you in just your sport bra. you were a blue through and through. manchester city fan until the day you died. the one thing that you and ella never could agree on was what colour manchester actually was.

you played in the blues of manchester while she played in the reds of manchester. you both being childhood supporters of the clubs you played at.

“you-“ you pointed towards ella as she tried her best to play the innocent act, you knowing all too well it would have been her that would have put that shirt on you last night before you went to sleep.

“i haven’t done anythin’!” ella expressed her innocence as you flopped yourself back ontop of her a small grunt leaving her lips as you did so. ella trying her best to keep her giggles in as you towered over her, a fake angry look on your face.

“you took advantage of me when i was vulnerable, putting me in that top-“ you complained as a playful roll of the eyes came from your girlfriend as you reached down to peck her lips.

“you said it was a comfy top, not me” ella shrugged as you pouted at her, trying to pretend to be annoyed. as she placed another loving kiss to you lips as you pulled three covers back over the two of you, feeling the cold on the hairs of you back from taking ella’s united top off.

“i love you” you whispered against her lips, “even if you do support the wrong side of manchester-“

“oi!”

both alessia and vick had listened to the story, gasping and giggles coming from them as ella told the story. knowing the parts when ella was being that little bit more exaggerate and dramatic.

“i’m surprised you had a girlfriend after that-“ alessia joked as ella hummed as she took a sip of her water.

“oh no, she was fuming with me for the rest of the day” ella explained how she had to earn her girlfriend point back throughout the day by basically doing anything and everything to you.

“so i can imagine derby days being quite tense then?” vick questioned as ella hummed knowing how the days usually go.

“they don’t talk to each other the entire build up to it on the day” alessia said so calmly after experiencing quite the few derby days between the two of you from back when she was playing for united.

“no we don’t and then when the prem is on that’s even worse we have to watch the game in different rooms otherwise we just bicker” ella added as laughs filled the rooms as ella also laughed realising how silly it probably sounded but nobody loved their childhood clubs like you and ella did.

“but it’s all good after the ninety. she knows i love her very much. and i know she loves me too”

[helen-with-an-a]

could you possibly do r who's always cold and is always seen or found hugging alessia?

Hiiiiiiii - I hope you enjoy <3<3<3. I know that this is being posted on a Saturday rather than the usual Friday night, but that's because of the Lionesses playing yesterday and yeah.

Body Temperature

Alessia Russo x Reader

Description: R is always cold; good thing Alessia is her personal heater

You and Alessia were polar opposites. You were brunette, with dark, unruly curls that framed your face, often falling into your eyes during an intense game. She was blonde, her straight, golden hair always perfectly tucked behind her ears, never a strand out of place. You were short and muscular, your compact frame built for strength and resilience, the kind of defender who could hold your ground against anyone. She was tall and lanky, her long legs giving her an advantage in speed and reach, allowing her to glide across the field with a grace that seemed effortless.

You were a defender, always on the lookout, analysing every play, ready to intercept and protect your team from any threat. Alessia was a striker, always pushing forward, with a hunger for goals that was insatiable. You were the wall; she was the arrow. Your styles clashed, yet they complemented each other, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly on the field.

Off the field, the differences were just as stark. You preferred quiet nights in, curled up with a book or watching a movie, while she thrived in social settings, always surrounded by friends, her laughter the loudest in the room. She was often described as the nicest person you would ever meet, a ray of sunshine that brightened even the gloomiest of days. Her kindness was effortless, her smile contagious, drawing people to her like moths to a flame. You were a little prickly around the edges, often sporting your signature frown, a protective layer that kept the world at bay. You weren’t unfriendly, but you had a way of keeping people at arm’s length, your guarded nature making you seem distant at times. Where Alessia opened her heart freely, you held yours close, only letting a select few see past the exterior. You were permanently cold, always bundling up in layers, seeking out the warmth of a blanket or a hot drink. She was perpetually warm, often walking around in just a T-shirt, her skin always radiating heat like a personal furnace.

You shouldn’t have worked. But you did. She helped guide you out of your comfort zone, coaxing you into experiences you might have otherwise avoided. Alessia had a way of pulling you into her world, where things were bright, vibrant, and full of life. She’d drag you to social gatherings, your hand in hers, reassuring you with a smile that everything would be fine. And somehow, it always was. When you were with her, the noise and chaos of the world felt manageable, even enjoyable. You found yourself laughing more, relaxing into the spontaneity that she brought to your life.

She, in turn, found a quiet refuge in you. Alessia loved how you grounded her, your steady presence a balm to her often hectic life. When the world got too loud, too overwhelming, she would come to you, seeking the comfort of your quiet nights in. You became her safe space, the person she could be completely herself with, without any pretence. In those moments, when it was just the two of you, she didn’t need to be the life of the party. She could be Lessi – not Alessia Russo, just Lessi, your Lessi – cuddled up on the couch with you, your head resting on her shoulder as you both watched a movie in comfortable silence.

Your relationship was a balance of contrasts. She was your warmth, melting the iciness of your reserve, and you were her calm, tempering the fiery energy she carried with her. There was a beautiful synchronicity in how you fit together, your differences creating a bond that was stronger because of them. You would catch her looking at you with that soft, knowing smile of hers, the one that said she saw past your tough exterior to the heart you kept hidden, and it made your chest tighten with a warmth you couldn’t quite put into words.

She had a way of knocking down your walls, bit by bit, with a patience that was as unwavering as her bright smile. It wasn’t that she forced her way in – no, Alessia had a gentler touch than that. It was more like she quietly dismantled your defences, one soft word or teasing joke at a time. She would catch you off guard with a playful nudge, or an unexpected compliment, and before you knew it, those walls you’d spent years building up were crumbling, leaving you exposed in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

The fans had grown to love their broody defender. Your harsh lines and intense stares, once intimidating, had become rather endearing to them. They saw the fire in your eyes, the way you commanded the back line with an unwavering focus that bordered on obsession. But they also saw the softer moments, the way your expression would soften when Alessia was near, how the corners of your mouth would twitch upward in what could almost be called a smile when she whispered something in your ear before a match. It was these glimpses of the real you – the you beneath the tough exterior – that made the fans adore you even more.

You had always been the one they looked to in those tense moments when the game was on the line. Your no-nonsense attitude, your fierce determination, and your refusal to back down from any challenge had made you a fan favourite, even if you didn’t show much emotion on the field. But Alessia brought out something different in you, something softer that only those who paid close attention could see. The way you would glance over at her after a particularly hard tackle, checking to see her reaction, or the way your shoulders would relax just a fraction when she flashed you that bright, reassuring smile from across the pitch.

She was your opposite in so many ways, and yet, in her presence, you found a sense of ease you hadn’t known you needed. The fans noticed it too – how you seemed less broody, less distant, when Alessia was by your side. They loved the dynamic between you, the contrast of her sunshine to your storm, the way she seemed to bring out the best in you without even trying.

Off the pitch, the fans had started to notice the little things – the way you would stand just a bit closer to her during interviews, or how you would share a look that spoke volumes without a single word being said. Social media was full of clips of those moments: Alessia playfully bumping into you, trying to get you to crack a smile, and your eventual, reluctant grin that always seemed to light up your entire face, even if just for a second.

They saw how, despite your tough exterior, you had a soft spot for her. Whether it was the way you held her hand when you thought no one was looking, or how you’d let her drag you into fan interactions that you normally would have avoided, the fans ate it up. They loved seeing this side of you, the side that Alessia had uncovered, and it only made them root for you both even harder.

Alessia had this incredible ability to draw out the warmth in you, to make you feel like it was okay to let your guard down, even in front of the cameras and the fans. And in doing so, she didn’t just knock down your walls – she showed you that it was okay to be seen, to be known, and to be loved for exactly who you were, broody demeanour and all. The fans could see that transformation, and they adored you for it, seeing not just a fierce defender, but a person who had found something, or rather someone, worth opening up for.

And perhaps the most surprising part was how much you had come to appreciate it too. Alessia’s relentless warmth, her light that seemed to shine even in your darkest moments, had done more than just knock down your walls – it had made you believe that maybe, just maybe, you were deserving of all the love that was now coming your way. And that, more than anything, was something you would be eternally grateful for.

It wasn’t until a cold December day when they saw just how different you were since Alessia had entered your life. It was an open training session – the final one before a spell of Champions League and international commitments – fans had come in their droves to see the Arsenal practice, braving the frigid temperatures to catch a glimpse of their favourite players.

You were perpetually cold. It was something you had learned to live with – always bundled up in layers, your hands tucked deep into your pockets, your breath visible in the frigid air. The cold had never really bothered you, or at least, that’s what you told yourself. It was just another discomfort, like an old injury that ached in bad weather, something you endured without complaint.

That day, however, something shifted. The winter chill had settled in, the kind that made your bones ache and your breath hitch in your chest. You were dressed in your usual layers, wrapped up tight against the cold, but somehow, it wasn’t enough. The biting wind cut through you, leaving you shivering on the sidelines as you watched the team’s practice. Normally, you would have toughed it out, gritted your teeth, and pushed through, but Alessia noticed the way you were tensing up, saw the faint blue tinge to your lips.

Without a word, she jogged over to where you stood, her breath forming little puffs of steam in the cold air. She was only in a long-sleeve shirt and shorts, as usual, somehow unaffected by the biting cold. Before you could protest, she peeled off her jacket and draped it over your shoulders, wrapping you up in the warmth she seemed to carry with her everywhere she went.

"Lessi, you’re going to freeze," you protested, trying to shrug off the jacket, but she just shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I’m fine," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You need it more than I do."

There was a stubbornness in her eyes that you knew all too well, the same look she got when she decided she was going to score no matter what. It was pointless to argue, so you reluctantly pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, feeling the warmth seep into your skin. But it wasn’t just the jacket that made the cold bearable – it was the gesture itself, the way Alessia always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t realise it yourself.

The fans watching from the stands saw the whole exchange, their eyes widening in surprise. They were used to seeing you as the tough, broody defender, the one who never let anything get to you, not even the cold. But here you were, accepting help, letting someone take care of you, and that someone was Alessia. It was such a simple moment, but it spoke volumes about how much you had changed, how much you had softened in her presence

Small interactions like that continued throughout the season. It wasn’t unusual for people to see you wrapping your arms around Alessia prior to warm-ups before matches. It had become almost a ritual – a moment of quiet connection before the chaos of the game. At first, the team teased you both about it, calling it your “pre-game cuddle,” but eventually, it just became part of the routine, another thing that made you and Alessia who you were.

Before the whistles blew and the warmups officially began, you’d find her, no matter where she was on the field. She’d turn toward you, a knowing smile already on her lips, and you’d wrap your arms around her, pulling her close. The warmth of her body against yours was a comfort, a reassurance that, no matter what happened on the pitch, you had each other’s backs. It wasn’t just about the physical warmth anymore – it was about the unspoken bond that had grown between you, the way she calmed the storm that always seemed to be brewing inside you.

The fans loved it. Social media was flooded with pictures and videos of your pre-game embraces, fans commenting on how your relationship had become one of the highlights of the season. They’d post about how your once-intimidating presence had softened, how Alessia’s light seemed to have melted the ice that surrounded you. There were even memes of you two, your broody demeanour contrasted with her sunny disposition, the captions celebrating the way opposites had truly attracted.

And it wasn’t just the fans who noticed. Your teammates did too. They’d smile when they saw you two together, the way you’d linger just a bit longer in each other’s embrace before breaking apart and getting down to business. They saw how Alessia had become your anchor, how her presence made you more focused, more at ease. Even your coach, who was known for being all business, couldn’t help but comment on how your partnership on and off the field had made you a stronger player, a stronger person.

But it wasn’t just about the games or the practices. Those small interactions carried over into your everyday lives. Whether it was Alessia slipping her hand into yours as you walked down the street, or you tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear when you thought no one was watching, there was a quiet intimacy that had become second nature to you both. You’d find yourself waiting for her after training, holding her water bottle or her bag, just so you could walk out together. And she, in turn, made sure you never had to face the cold alone, always finding a way to share her warmth with you, whether it was a quick hug or a gentle squeeze of your hand.

As the season progressed, your bond only grew stronger. You started to see Alessia as more than just your girlfriend; she was your partner in every sense of the word. She was there for you after tough matches, when the weight of a loss threatened to pull you under, her voice soothing you, reminding you that you were never alone. And you were there for her, cheering her on after every goal, celebrating her victories as if they were your own, because in a way, they were.

The team had come to rely on your connection too. They saw how you two balanced each other, how your differences made you a better unit, both on and off the field. You weren’t just the broody defender anymore – you were part of something bigger, something that made you proud in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Alessia had shown you that vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, and you, in turn, had given her a sense of stability, a grounding force that she hadn’t realised she needed.

By the end of the season, it was clear to everyone that you and Alessia were more than just a couple. You were a team within the team, a partnership that had strengthened not just your bond, but the bond of everyone around you. And as you looked forward to what the future held, you knew one thing for sure: no matter where life took you, as long as you had Alessia by your side, you could face anything. Together, you had found something rare and beautiful, a love that was as strong as it was gentle, and that, more than anything, was what made you truly unstoppable.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3

[alotofpockets]

Babies & aunties | Mary Earps x Pregnant!Reader

Where you're pregnant with twins, and Alessia and Ella are overjoyed to become aunts

A/n: thank you @woso-soso & @wosoamazing for your ideas on this one!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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Your wife always dealt with pressure well, in her line of work there really was no other way to go. Penalty shoot outs, game-saving dives, and fighting for the trophies. The news of becoming a mother was on a whole different level, no trophy could ever beat that. 

The two of you had been trying for a baby for a couple months before you had gotten the good news. You had been over the moon that it had worked so soon, and that you were on the journey to motherhood with the love of your life.

You kept the news to yourselves for a bit, wanting to share the moment with each other first. Mary had been absolutely amazing, she was there for you during your morning sickness, food cravings, high emotions, and tiredness. You could not have asked for a better partner through the first trimester of your pregnancy. 

After your ultrasound, you had planned to start telling people. Never did you expect that you would be the ones surprised at the ultrasound. The doctor said it was clear as day, you were pregnant with twins. 

When you got back home from the doctor’s office the two of you sat in the nursery room revising all the ideas you had to make the room work for two babies, while you were both overjoyed that two little babies would be joining your family.

With the ultrasound showing the two little beans, a name you started fondly calling the babies ,it was time to tell your family and friends. Everyone was so happy for the both of you, knowing how badly you wanted to start a family together. Nothing beat the enthusiasm of Mary’s United and England teammates Alessia and Ella. The pair was over the moon with the news and could not wait to be aunties to the babies. 

The next few weeks you were getting stuff together for the little beans their nursery. Which consisted of you telling Mary what you wanted, and her getting and assembling it. Mary did it all happily while you lovingly watched her from the rocking chair that she has also assembled.

You wanted the gender of the babies to be a surprise for the both of you until the gender reveal party. So, at your next check up, you asked the doctor’s to put the results in an envelope. Mary’s mother was the one getting everything ready for the gender reveal party, so she was the only one that knew the genders of the babies.

Julie worked out your ideas to perfection. In the middle of your backyard stood a small football goal decorated with pink and blue tassels, along with a “pink vs blue” banner. Tables were filled with fun games to guess the genders, and names of the babies, and lots of pink and blue coloured food.

“Alright, everybody gather around!” Mary announced as you were getting ready for the actual gender reveal part of the gender reveal party. Your friends and family surrounded you as you stood in front of the football goal in the yard. 

“Thank you all for coming and showing so much love for these little beans already. We truly appreciate each and everyone of you coming out here today.” You say while looking out at the people who filled your backyard.

“Who’s ready to find out what we’re having?” Everyone cheered. “So are we! We have two mini footballs, one for each baby, pink for a girl and blue for a boy.” Mary looked over to you. “Are you ready, darling?” You nod and smile. Mary kisses your cheek before she turns to the rest of the people again. “Can we get a countdown from five?”

“Five, four, three, two, one!” Everyone counted down loudly. On one you both let go of the footballs and kicked them towards the crowd. Both balls exploded in pink powder. Mary looks at you with a face of excitement. “We’re having two girls!” You hug her tight with a face of joy. 

When Ella and Alessia run up and start jumping around with Mary to celebrate the news you step aside and let them have their moment. You watched them huddle and jump around while standing with your friends. It was the perfect moment.

----- maryearps and y/n_y/l/n just posted

maryearps: Today we found out what we're having! Two baby girls💗

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The rest of your pregnancy went smoothly. You had everything ready for the little beans, and were very impatiently waiting for the moment you could hold them in your arms. 

Ella and Alessia were over all the time, they loved talking to the little beans and had even started a new instagram account called Tooney Russo and the Beans, where they were posting everything related to the beans arrival and were planning to post babies and auntie pictures in the future. You thought it was absolutely adorable. They were almost as excited for the babies to be here, as you and Mary were.

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tooney_russo_and_the_beans just posted to their story

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Then the moment was finally there, you got to hold your little beans for the first time. They were absolutely perfect. Their little fingers and toes, tiny noses, squishy cheeks. You were over the moon, you never thought you could fall in love so quickly. Of course you had loved them from the moment you knew you were pregnant, but holding them like this gave a whole new meaning to the word.

Mary was with you the whole time, and the two of you just could not keep your eyes off your little baby girls. The rest of the afternoon you spend in the hospital room as a family of four, with the occasional family and friends visit, to meet the little beans.

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y/n_y/l/n and maryearps just posted

y/n_y/l/n: Our little beans. Currently feeling like the luckiest mama

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[moonystoes]

The way people are reacting to what happened to LJ and Millie Turner is exactly what I was expecting. People claim football is inclusive, and everyone gets the chance to feel respected and be able to play safely. But you only defend and protect the people that fit into your standards. They will only defend the people they like or share traits with. White supremacists aren't even trying to cover up their disgusting ideologies.

Turner posted a picture of James 'headlocking' her in the game. It didn't happen, LJ wanted the ball so she came from behind, Millie bent down which made it look like LJ was headlocking her. Not only did she post that knowing the amount of racial abuse and criticism LJ gets for simply breathing, she also commented and liked comments about it being a 'proper headlock'... no it wasn't. And she knows that.

Yet I hadn't seen many speaking about this here, do you guys suddenly not care about players being mistreated and racially abused because they're not white? What happened to all those fans harassing Korbin for excluding and disrespecting the queer community? Is football truly inclusive and for everyone like how you guys claimed it to be? Or is it suddenly not harmful or serious because it doesn't fit into YOUR beliefs?

Claiming LJ is aggressive with actual proof of fouls she committed is understandable, but posting pictures with no context and making it seem like she was trying to harm you is DISGUSTING. Those random Arsenal fans that love McCabe so much always bring the fact 'ohh but Katie never injured a player'... okay? And did LJ do that? Because last time I checked, when she does commit a foul, the player is hurt for a few minutes but continues playing like normal with no minor or serious injuries. You guys can't even find the right excuses to defend your racist thoughts lol. And if you're a McCabe fan, don't bother coming here and explaining why you hate LJ. I'm not listening to your ass. I truly respect McCabe, but I don't like her fans that HATE LJ (if you're a McCabe fan and you don't actively harass LJ... then this isn't for you).

Players from her OWN English squad liking and commenting is absolutely disgusting too. They can see the racial abuse their own teammate is experiencing but they're white ass don't care because again... what was I expecting from them? Of course they wouldn't. And Now that Turner is getting a lot of blacklash, she didn't delete the post. She kept that photo but turned off the comments.

I will always defend LJ, and I will always stand with football being for everyone. But some of you guys are hypocrites.

[pelova4president]

The extrovert to my introvert

Maya Le Tissier x Reader

summary~ You met Maya when you were twelve and playing in a boys only team, she too was the only girl in her team. A year later you meet again, only now she’s your teammate at England.

You’ve always loved Maya Le Tissier.

Growing up, playing in an all boys team was tough. At first they were soft with you but that changed when you started to tackle them, hard. They challenged you more and harder, they didn’t want to lose to a girl. ‘Girls can’t play football’ is the phrase you heard most growing up.

When you had a game against another team, your teammates did stick up for you. The boys from the other team would yell insults when you walked past them. Their parents were even worse, the dads yelled at their kids whenever you nutmegged them and the moms told your parents that they should take you off football.

The game almost always got a whole lot more physical after the first half. The opponent didn’t want to lose to a girl. They tried to take you out with bad tackles and tugged at your shirt until you fell down. But your teammates stood up for you. Your captain pushed the boy that took you down and even the parents of your teammates would yell at the boy and his coach for being so reckless.

You’d never played in a girls team or against a girl, really. Although it was hard playing against boys, you wouldn’t trade it for a thing. The boys were tough on you but whenever you needed them, they got your back. It had always been like this, it kept you on your toes and you preformed better because of it.

It wasn’t until you turned twelve that you played against a girl. The only girl on an all boys team, just like you.

You stared at her from the sideline, where your team was doing their warming-up. “Y/n, what’re you looking at?” your captain yelled. He took you out of your trance and you turned you head towards the warming-up again.

“You know the girl?” you asked one of your teammates that was stood next to you, stretching. He shrugged and answered, “Not really, all i know is that her name’s Maya.”.

Maya was a defender, you were a striker, you were destined to meet on the field.

Your team starts slow, and the other team scores an early goal. But you need to make an impression. As the game goes on, you notice the girl defending you, she had so much skill and isn't afraid to make a tackle. She makes it beyond hard for you to get past her.

At halftime, your team is 2-0 down, but you can't lose, not to her. In the second half, you come back stronger and harder. With fast footwork, you create opportunities. The girl is right there, trying to block your every move, but you're not giving up.

In the final minutes, it finally happens. The parents watching spur you on as you maneuver past defenders, including the girl who you've been eyeing all game. You score a goal and you run towards your teammates, but not before looking at Maya. The girl smiles, impressed by your work.

But you're not done yet. You're still one goal down, you need atleast one other goal. As the game continues, you find yourself in the perfect position.

With a well-timed shot, you score another goal, tying the game.

The match ends in a draw, but for you it felt like a little victory.

You shook the hands of your opponents, leaving one for last. The brunette walked over to you. “You played good.” she complimented. With red cheeks you responded, “Thanks, you too, you made it really tough to score.”. She laughed and walked away.

One year later you met again, at the Under 15’s for England. Maya had already made friends but you didn’t. It had always been harder for you to make friends, especially girl friends.

You were sat on a tree trunk outside. It was wasn’t really cold outside since it was still summer but it wasn’t warm either, the evening breeze making the hairs on your forearms stand up.

There you were, feeling homesick and kicking some rocks away like they were footballs.

Maya saw you sitting from inside the training center and decided to go talk to you. “Mind if i sit here?” she asked you but was already sitting next to you before you could answer. You already knew who it was. Maya started kicking rocks too, “This is kinda boring, why won’t you come inside?”. Again, you didn’t really answer and just shrugged. You didn’t move to go inside so she stayed there too, the whole evening.

She did all the talking. “I’ve never been to an England camp before, i hope we get to keep our game kits.” she rambled. She even made you laugh when she told you about the one time she ‘accidentally’ broke the nose of an opponent. Maya could talk for the both of you and you just listened.

When the England staff called the both of you inside because you needed to go to your room you said something for the first time that evening. “You’re fun, Maya.” you told her looking at your feet that were still kicking little rocks away.

“Thank you. I think you’re way better company than the other girls here, y/n.” she complimented, looking at your face that had gotten red at her compliment. She knew you weren’t much of a talker but that didn’t bother her, you’ll eventually open up.

You did open up. The two of you were polar opposites, Maya’s extroverted who loved to talk while you were an introvert who rarely talks. But even though you were so different you were inseparable from that first camp day on.

A year later, you realised that you didn’t just think of Maya as your bestfriend. She might’ve been your whole world at this point. When you weren’t at camp together you’d text or call eachother whenever you could.

You had Maya as your screensaver and laptop backgroup, a photo of the two of you next to your bed. Her Le Tissier England shirt was hung up on your wall. She made you a friendship bracelet with her intials and number on it, a red and white ‘MLT4’ rested on your wrist. You’d made her one too but messed the colours up, she still wore it though.

You laid down on your bed and looked up at the ceiling, where ofcourse was another photo of the brunette and you, at the first camp England camp.

It was at the Under-17 Euros that you confessed your crush on her. You’d just been eliminated. You had to go home. You had to go home, text or call Maya everyday pretending you were fine with just being friends and after six weeks you got to see eachother again and you’d do it all over again.

It was silent on the way back to the hotel. You didn’t say anything, she didn’t say anything. The team got out of the bus and most of the girls headed to their room.

You didn’t. You walked towards a wooden bench outside and sat down. The bench made a little sound when you sat down. The sun had long gone down and you could only think about what you could’ve done better. You could’ve passed to one of your teammates and maybe they would’ve scored.

You heard the bench make that same sound again when Maya sat down beside you. Frowning you looked up at her. The defender looked you in your eyes and sighed.

“I know it’s not the end of the world but it certainly feels like it. I mean how did we let them score that first one? I had to do better-“ she rambled like she always did. Normally you’d let her but not today. “Maya, i could’ve scored. Don’t go and blame yourself. Just like you said, it’s not the end of the world, we’re gonna be alright.” you cut her off.

She looked at you again placed her and on top of yours. “Also.. i like you Maya. Not as teammates or friends. I kind of love you, you know.” you blurted out without thinking.

Maya had to stiffle her laughter and bit her cheek. You looked up again, confused by the silence. “Why aren’t you saying anything, please say something.” you said, sounding a bit stressed.

“Y/n, that’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one time.” she laughed. You looked away with a red face. “Y/n i love you as a teammate and a friend but i’d love you even more as my girlfriend.” she said taking you by surprise.

Maya took your chin in her hands and turned your head towards hers. “I’d like to kiss you now.” she whispered softly, leaning in you kissed her. It was soft, passionate and sweet, just like her.

The two of you were girlfriends by the time the Under-19 World Cup was happening. Now that you’d both got scouted by the red side of Manchester you started living together. It wasn’t a big appartement since your parents money was still the biggest part of your income.

Maya’s dad drove you and your lover to the airport since you had to fly to Spain where the tournament was held.

mayaletissier posted on their story

The tournament went well. Maya asked you to give the girls another chance and you’d do anything for Maya so ofcourse you did. You liked Maya’s company better but this was fine too. Some of the girls were quite funny.

When you were eating dinner with some of the girls you got the best idea. Biking around for a bit in the dark and maybe even swimming in some lake would be fun. You proposed the idea to a few of the girl and they were in. But something was in the way of this brilliant plan. The staff probably wouldn’t let you go so you needed to do it in secret.

You asked the girls to meet you by the bikes at 8.

You were waiting with Maya when some of the girls joined you. The sun was going down but it was still warm since it was June and you were in Spain.

jesspark_16

After the World Cup, where England got second, The Netherlands winning, Maya took you camping. Maya had told you all about her camping adventures with her family.

Camping in France had been a tradition in your lovers family. Every year they’d go and camp for atleast one week. Maya loved her family so she was beyond excited to take you camping with them.

mayaletissier posted on their story

Even after the World Cup, when you both got into the Senior England team you loved to travel together. Maya got to make her debut while you still had to wait. It was okay because you knew she deserved it.

At Manchester United the both of you were regular starters. When you got a professional contract for the senior team you bought your lover and yourself your own (tiny) house. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t big. You got your own space, a little home for the both of you.

When the big home Euros arrived, Maya was called up. You weren’t. Ofcourse you were heartbroken but that only made you work harder, wanting to get where your lover got.

Every England game you were sat in the stands, watching your girl play for her country.

mayaletissier

liked by alessiarusso99 and 53.197 others

Proud to have made my Euros debut.

comments

y/n_y/l/n so so proud of my my MLT23

ellatoone shining ✨

keirawalsh ⭐️girl

woso4evr she’s the future of england

maya_y/nfann so sad y/n wasn’t selected

When Maya won the Euros you screamed your lungs out. The usual quiet introvert left your body and you went crazy. Your Maya had brought it home.

When it had all sank in you got on your plane to your planned vacation. It was perfect. It was sunny and sandy and there were restaurants and little shops everywhere.

mayaletissier

liked by lucybronze and 114.719 others

love love love

comments

y/n_y/l/n are your parents bakers, because you’re a cutie pie

↳ mayaletissier disgustingly cheesy

↳ y/l/n_y/l/n you know you like it

alessiarusso99 cute!!

missybokearns girlfriends that play together stay together ��

letissier4fan they’re so good together

y/n_y/l/n

liked by missybokearns and 79.728 others

the extrovert to my introvert

comments

jesspark_16 🧀🧀yyyy

↳ y/n_y/l/n go find a gf jessie

1maryearps already so grown up

mayaletissier do you have a sunburn or are you always this hot??

↳ y/n_y/l/n maya..

leahwilliamsonn why does your vacation look better than mine

↳ y/n_y/l/n cuz i’ve got my planner gf

li0n3sses45 i don’t know who’d i rather be, maya or y/n

footballtooney11 i want what they have

[sunshine-theseus]

Translation | Mayra Ramírez x Reader

Words: 3.6

Summary: your career takes a hit but Mayra is there to lift you back up

Warnings: pitch violence, Maya le Tissier and ManU is not nice, bad Spanish – as usual, long convos will be in English but implied they’re actually speaking Spanish, sorry I feel like this one is all over the place for some reason

It was hard to hear what was being said over the chants and screams from the stands. It was harder to try and reply for both parties.

I hadn’t seen what happened. The ball was making its way down the pitch one moment and the next moment the whistle was blown and everyone rushed to the sidelines, opposing the medics rushing out. Mayra Ramírez, Chelsea’s mind-blowing new signing, was laying on the ground, clearly in pain.

I watched as the medics tried to say something to the girl, but she was clearly only growing frustrated as neither understood the other. That’s when I decided to make my way over to the group, hoping to help with whatever issue had occurred.

“¿Necesitas ayuda para traducir?” (do you need help translating?) I ask the Colombian as I kneel next to her.

I get a stiff nod in return, her eyes still clenched tightly as she tries to breathe through the pain.

“What do you need to tell her?” I turn my head to the medics across from me.

“We need to check for any signs of a concussion. We need her eyes open.”

“Ellas necesitan que abras tus ojos chica” with a few blinks, her eyes finally open.

“Mi hombro que duele mucho” (my shoulder hurts a lot) Mayra whispers in my ear, tapping her left shoulder, and I relay the message to the medic without the bag.

I offer a hand for comfort and she takes it while they manipulate her shoulder, seeing if there is any real damage or if it’s just superficial. As we wait I find myself asking what happened. She recounts the body check from my teammate, Maya, and I make a mental reminder to have a word with her after the game.

“She’s okay but that girl could have done some bad damage with the hit she made. If she feels good, she’s safe to continue. I’d ask you to keep an eye on your teammate, she’s had it out for Mayra the whole game.” I tell Mayra she’s been given the okay to continue if she feels she can, and I help her up. She thanks me and gives me a hug before making her way to the sideline, waiting to be called back on by the ref.

“What was that all about?” the named devil approaches me as we take our positions to continue the game.

“Doesn’t matter. Just don’t be a dick for the rest of the game yeah? If you can help it for once.” I continue on my way to stand in position to kick the game back off, leaving her with a dropped jaw.

~

We’re in the 72’ minute and I think my small lecture actually gets through to the defender. She hadn’t made a move on Mayra or any other Chelsea player since. But right as the ball makes its way toward the opposing pair, both fighting for possession, I watch as Maya elbows Mayra in the face. Hard. No whistle is blown, but I still find my feet marching toward her, an anger growing in the pit of my stomach. I’m sick of this shit.

“What the fuck did I tell you!?” I can feel as all eyes begin to focus on me and the commotion I’m causing.

She looks scared and I almost turn right around and continue with the game, but then I glance behind her and see Mayra hunched over, grabbing her nose.

“I said ‘don’t be a dick’ didn’t I!? So why aren’t you listening to your captain Le Tissier?” by now I’ve reached her, so I shove her to further my point.

“I’m playing the fucking game. Captain.”

“No! You’re targeting Ramírez and risking other players’ health. We’ve talked about this behaviour before, and I thought we had it sorted. I’m talking to Skinner and you’re going to find yourself on the bench for a long fucking time. Until you prove you’ve learnt your lesson. Is that fucking clear?” I continue to stalk toward her as she backs away, seething through my teeth as I whisper in her ear.

She barely nods in return, but with one more light shove to her shoulders, I turn around to check on Mayra. I don’t even get a step away before hands are pressed against my spine and I’m pushed forward. I manage to catch myself before I fall and turn back toward my teammate as I readjust myself. Her fist is already swinging at me and connects with my mouth instantly, followed by a boot to the stomach. In the back of my mind, I hear the whistles of multiple officials and screams of both Chelsea and United players and fans, but none of that processes as I punch her cheek.

Maya is pressed up against the goal post at this point, Mary watching from the box, seemingly not knowing how to break up the fight. The boot to my stomach had admittedly winded me and my lungs were struggling to fill up as I grip the collar of her jersey and push her up against the metal. My hope is that retraining her long enough will manage to calm her down enough to talk, but she manages enough leverage to headbutt me in the nose.

The blood from my definitely broken nose mixes with the blood from my split lip in my mouth and I accidentally choke on it. I let Maya’s jersey go as I bend over, retching up more blood and trying to gasp through it. I can feel players from both teams separating us and trying to help while we wait for medics to make their way over, but I collapse onto my knees before they can get me very far.

The next thing I know, my vision goes black

~~~~~

I know I wasn’t out for long because the final minutes of the game are still being streamed to the TV in the corner of the medical room. Unfortunately, my face and stomach still ache, and I’m very aware of the dried blood that has seemed to cover my chin, neck and most of the front of my jersey. I can feel the stitches that have been used to close my lip as my tongue passes over them.

I take a moment to study the rest of the room. No Maya, wouldn’t be surprised if she managed to snake her way into finishing the game. I clearly didn’t punch her hard enough. I’d do anything to escape the club at this point. A shitty coach and shitty teammates and especially shitty oversight. Send me back to Madrid at this point.

It’s always easy to know the game has ended because the hall echoes with boot studs as groups of players make their way to their locker rooms. I watch red shirts pass by first, loud chatter between them. Not a single one pops their head in to see how I’m doing. So much for being a good captain.

A sea of blue follows, and I find my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as many of the players stop momentarily to thank me for standing up for their striker. How did one of my team’s biggest rivals care about me more than my own team?

Mayra lingers at the door as she finishes a conversation in broken English with Emma Hayes, then silently makes her way in. She takes a seat in the shitty plastic chair beside me and takes one look at my face and cringes.

“¿Es tan malo?” (is it that bad?)

“Sí.” She lets out a small laugh with her answer

“Gracias por lo que hiciste ahí fuera” (thanks for what you did out there)

“No te mereces esa mierda. y estoy harto de sus payasadas” (You don't deserve that shit. and I'm sick of her antics).

She doesn’t say anything in return, simply resting her hand on mine. That same warm feeling I felt when she held my hand as I translated for her on the pitch returns, swelling in the pit of my stomach.

I find comfort in the simple touch for as long as we sit there, before deciding it’s probably getting quite late and both of us obviously need some cleaning up. I don’t see her again before the blues get back on their bus to London and I drive back to a cold and empty apartment.

~~~~~

So I was suspended from the next match. And am still too injured for the one following that. In addition I’ve been too injured to complete any extensive training. Who knew a studs-up kick to the stomach and 2 hard punches to the face causing a relatively large amount of bleeding would be this bad?

Of course Maya served a one match ban, but she suffered no other consequences. People on twitter were outraged. At who? Well that depends on which side you look at. A lot of Chelsea fans had put aside any dislike they had for me and had been thanking me for finally standing up against the aggressive behaviour shown toward Mayra since her move. Some going as far to say they wished I realised I could do much better than United.

I wasn’t one to stroke my ego, but I definitely agreed with that.

United fans had not taken so kindly to the events. I’d been called a lot of things in my career. Slurs, misogynistic names, shit nicknames, they were all quite common. It doesn’t mean it hurts any less coming from the fans who are supposed to support you.

I’d spent the good part of my forced time off crying in bed and trying to ease some of the pain. No one had heard from me in 10 days, including family and friends asking if I was doing okay. I’d gotten DMs from players on other teams checking in and giving me their support as well. I think some of them started getting worried when they checked with my teammates, none of which had checked on me, and other players and no one had so much as heard a peep.

Then, on day 11, there was an eruption. The silent world was engulfed by blames and no one saw it coming.

Manchester United Women have just announced the abrupt and immediate departure of Captain Y/N L/N after 3½ years at the club

Boy did that have the messages rolling in, concern taking over like a plague. Concern about what went down behind scenes that would cause their captain to leave with immediate effect this close to the end of the season. Concern for what this meant for the rest of the team. Concern for where I was heading next. Concern for my well-being. Lots and lots of concern for why I had suddenly vanished from the face of the earth.

I definitely wasn’t expecting a loud knock on my door at 4 in the afternoon. Barely navigating through the packed boxes, I manage a peak through the peephole before the person knocks again.

Mayra Ramírez is stood on the other side of my door, rocking back and forth on her feet, patiently waiting for someone to answer.

I swing it open without much thought about the fact I’m in relatively shit clothes and I’ve probably gone a few too many days without washing my hair. I also momentarily forget the giant bruises that still are yet to heal all over my body as I pull her into a tight hug. I’m not sure why I do it. The first and last time we talked was that dreaded match, but having someone physically in front of me makes something deep inside of me snap.

I begin crying right there on the edge of my driveway as the Colombian just rocks us side to side in a soothing motion.

She eventually pulls away to help move us toward the living room, allowing me to rest against her as I try to catch my breath.

“¿Estas bien? ¿qué pasó?” (are you okay? what happened?).

“Allí no le agradaba a nadie, especialmente después del partido. Los superiores dijeron que tenía que irme inmediatamente. No tengo a donde ir.” (Nobody liked me there, especially after the game. The superiors said I had to leave immediately. I have nowhere to go). I’d cried so much in the past week that there were barely any tears left. I was also rather dehydrated. I had not done anything but pack my stuff into boxes and cry.

She didn’t prod any further as I leant against her again, my eyes beginning to droop.

“Todo va a estar bien” (everything will be okay) she whispers in my ear.

~

I don’t know how long I’m asleep for, but it can’t be more than an hour or two because the sun is still high in the sky and Mayra hasn’t felt the need to move from beneath me. My head resting in her lap with her hands twisting the ends of my hair as she scrolls on her phone are the only signs of passing time. When she doesn’t immediately notice my eyes staring up at her, I take a moment to admire her.

The light curls in her hair falling over her shoulder. The soft smile that seemingly always graced her lips. The way her eyes are like pools of burnt umber, so warm and kind, dragging you in. the freckles that were spaced across her face like stars in the dark night sky. A natural beauty that I couldn’t seem to get enough of.

“Why are you here?” the question is broken up by the dryness in my throat.

“No one has seen or heard from you in a week and then it is suddenly announced you are leaving Manchester immediately. I was worried.”

“But why? We’ve only spoken once.” The thought of how she find my place doesn’t even cross my mind.

“You risked a lot for me that game, clearly including your place in your team. I want to repay you. And I care about you.” Perhaps it was the drowsiness that was still blanketed over my brain, but there was something in her eyes that made it feel like her words held more meaning behind them than she’d presented me with.

I finally stand up, making my way to the kitchen. I offer Mayra a tea, but she expresses her disgust with the drink before I can finish my breath.

“Why are you packing?”

“I’m moving.”

“Where?” I pause at the question. There were a lot of things I had answers for, but this was not one of those things. I had no idea where I was heading. Maybe back home to Madrid? Somewhere else in England? I’m sure if I bothered checking my email I’ll have had multiple offers since the announcement this morning.

I can feel as her frame approaches and towers over me. Her presence is calming and I take a breath.

“I don’t know.” My eyes begin to burn again, new tears welling up against my waterline when she turns me to face her and wraps her arms around me. It’s almost identical to earlier but now I’m just tired of it all.

~~~~~

It’s not until 5 weeks later that I find myself dragging my boxes into a new place. Well new for me, relatively old now for Mayra. The classic English brick was inescapable but the girl had somehow managed to capture and essence of Colombia, and subsequentially Spain. I didn’t really care for remembering my home but there was a comfort within the space that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“La lavandería está al final del pasillo si quieres lavar tu kit.” (The laundry room is down the hall if you want to wash your kit). Mayra points to the door after we finish unpacking most of the boxes.

In the mess of packing up almost 4 years of my life in Manchester and moving it down to London, I’d almost forgotten about the new kits folded neatly in their own box, tucked tightly into the corner of the room. Honestly the thought of even opening the lid made me uneasy, even though I would not be wearing them any time soon. It wasn’t particularly bad type of nausea, just a “I don’t know if I’m ready for this change” type. Of course Mayra could sense that.

We’d grown really close over the past month, spending a lot of time on calls. They often involved me helping her practice English and her helping me sort out the move. And a lot of dropping subtle hints.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew very quickly that I liked her a lot and I noticed her blushing and side glances rather easily. I wasn’t sure if she was clueless to her own feelings and my own or if she didn’t want to approach the subject. That’s why, on my first visit down to London to discuss contracts and to watch Chelsea’s last home game, I told her how I felt.

It wasn’t anything big, a homecooked meal and some wine that wasn’t particularly good. We were sat on the balcony, the sun barely resting on the horizon, a moment imprinted in my brain.

“Realmente me gustas” (I really like you). I had a whole speech planned, admitting what I’d been feeling over the weeks, but no other words came out. All she did was lean across the table and press her lips against mine and that was that.

That’s how we landed here. The new kit is spiralling in the washing machine as we sing loudly to the music playing over the speaker, dancing around the kitchen, drowning out the noises. The house is filled with the smell of paella de pollo and puchero santafereño and other Spanish and Colombian dishes, cooking or cooling off, as we work on arepas.

Mayra tries to show me how to flatten the dough out on the pan, then flip it with my hand. I approach the stove with a small ball of dough, ready to replicate her actions, when she wraps her arms around my waist. She places her larger hands over my own and manipulates them to follow the instructions she whispers in my ear.

“And now you flip it.” With that, I try to hook my fingers beneath it to turn it over.

With just my luck, my hand sits at the wrong angel, and my wrist and knuckles rest against the burning hot pan. My hand recoils and Mayra is dragging me to the sink to run it under cold water before I can even process the pain.

“Fucking shit! How do you do that?” the burn definitely isn’t that bad, but I continue to hold it under the tap while Mayra goes back to the pan and flips it with ease, answering me with a shrug and a cheeky side smile.

“Well you only have to make… like 45 more before the girls get here.”

“Noo mi amor just try one more time. I believe in you” She pouts her bottom lip and looks at me with those beautiful brown eyes and reaches for my hand. She presses kisses to each of my knuckles and my wrist.

“Fine, but if I burn my fingers one more time I’m sitting in the corner and letting you do all the work.” I let out a huff as I take a new ball of dough and roll it between my hands.

Mayra wraps her arms around my waist again but leaves them there, watching as I meticulously push the dough around on the pan. When she tells me it’s time to flip it, I pinch at the top edge and quickly turn it over. No contact with the pan is made.

Proud of my success I quickly spin around and kiss her. Cheshire-like grins spread across both our faces as our foreheads rest against each other, enjoying the moment.

Mayra was a lot more domestic and much more of a homebody than I’d originally thought. She enjoyed staying in and making homecooked meals together most nights, cuddling on the couch and watching a show or movie as the moon rises higher in the sky. But I loved that about her. It was never boring to just exist in the same space as her, she was too perfect.

~

The Chelsea girls begin to arrive about half an hour later. Niamh, Cat and Maika are the first, and instantly start helping me set up the table, chatting about their luck in the last game of the season. A 6-0 victory against Manchester United that won them the league.

Emma arrives not much later with Hannah, Aggie, Sam and Kristie in tow. I send Mayra out to greet and talk with her teammates and start to add finishing touches on some of the dishes.

Everyone has arrived and all the food is laid out across the tables pushed together in the garden. I sit down next to Mayra as she talks with Erin, who is trying to improve her Spanish, and link our hands together on top of the table. I play with the gold ring on her finger as I look at everyone around me. Smiles and laughs, a friendship so close it’s basically a family, feeling safe with each other.

No club I’ve ever played at was this close, but they were all so excited and quick to pull me in and love me like I’ve been here for years.

I look at Mayra again. The golden light of the sun turns her eyes into pools of whiskey and her skin glows. Those freckles I love have become more prominent in recent summer days. Her laugh makes my heart burst.

“Te amo cariño mio” (I love you my darling) I whisper in her ear as I rest my head on her shoulder, a smile glued to my face.

Her lips lightly press to my forehead.

“Te amo mucho”

[arsenal-womens-1]

Master list

Coming soon

People I’m willing to write for

Prompts

Lucy bronze

Alessia Russo

Barcelona

Jill roord

Chelsea

Manchester United

Arsenal

Vivianne Miedema 

Beth mead

Georgia Stanway 

Ruesha Littlejohn

Katie McCabe

Caitlin Foord

Kyra Cooney-Cross

Leah Williamson

Jen Beattie

[totaly-obsessed]

Maya Le Tissier for Manchester United Appreciation

Request a player | with @alotofpockets

[museszm]

Thank you Cloé Lacasse for bringing back proper celebrations to this club

[skipper1331]

Cheater? // Ella Toone

a/n: based off this request. Enjoy :)

She stopped kissing you.

She stopped hugging you.

She stopped touching you, in general.

She didn‘t look at you.

She didn‘t talk to you.

All she did was ignoring you.

When did it stop?

When did she fall out of love with you?

-

It felt wrong, living in the same home as Ella. It felt weird to sleep in the same bed - something so familiar, something that used to be your favorite thing.

-

At night, she would hold you while at day she acted like she didn‘t know you.

She didn‘t - not anymore.

You couldn‘t remember the last time you spoke to her properly, not arguing or shouting at one another.

You couldn‘t remember when she stopped acting like your girlfriend but she did and it killed you every day at little bit more. Each day, something inside broke more and more, something that used to be bubbly, full of love and passion. Something that was truly, madly and deeply in love with Ella Toone.

There was one thing though, you remember so perfectly. Not because you wanted to but because your mind didn‘t give you a chance to forget it. Every time you closed your eyes you see it, her, them.

-

Coming home from work, you expected to be alone. Ella should be at training or so you thought. When you opened the door, occupied with the bag in your left and key in your right hand, you didn‘t notice the two pairs of shoes standing in the hall. With headphones in your ears, you didn’t hear the weird noises which came from the kitchen. And as you walked further into your home, you saw it, her, them.

Ella was trapped between arms, pressed against the counter as a man kissed her, her arms around his neck as they got all cozy.

So many emotions filled your body, you felt angry, you felt disappointed but mostly, you felt heart broken "what the fuck?" you stated as you dropped your bag. The midfielder and male creature pulling away and turning to you. Ella looked shocked and caught while the man had a smirk on his face.

"Baby-" she started but you cut her off, you felt nothing but hurt. Making out with her ex? in your kitchen? In your shared home? You felt betrayed in more than one way. The nights you had spent crying, thoughts playing in your mind that she would get back with her ex-boyfriend. Or that she would realize that she wasn‘t in love with you, a girl. You admitted your insecurities, just to get them thrown in your face. It was the biggest backstabber move.

"It‘s okay" you muttered, leaving the room as quickly as possible. Racing to your bedroom, you grabbed a big bag, filling it with clothes and some toiletries before leaving the house as quickly as you ran up the stairs. Ella didn‘t try to follow you - not upstairs nor outside.

She didn‘t know where you would go - neither did you.

The first night you spent on a bench, then in your car and after that at your workplace, the couch in your office more comfortable than the things you had slept on the nights before. Yet nothing was close to your bed which is why you decided to go back after a week - your back couldn‘t survive another night on the awfully small sofa.

As you saw that her car wasn‘t in the driveway, you stepped into your home, ready to sleep in a real bed.

As soon as your body hit the mattress you fell into a slumber, the smell of home - Ella, bringing more comfort than it should.

At midnight, you felt a pair of arms snuggling around you, tugging you close and the sweet smell of Ella’s shampoo hitting your nostrils, "I do love you, I just don’t know how to handle it" she whispered - you didn’t hear it, deep asleep.

Then she pressed the most lingering kiss to your temple, she didn‘t know if it was the last kiss ever to share with one another, if this was her last opportunity to be close to you.

She couldn't ask for forgiveness anymore, it was already too late for that - the moment she let him into your house, it was already too late. She knew that. She would never forgive herself, the look you had on your face will forever haunt her down.

She'd be damned if the last thing her lips felt wasn't you.

-

Abruptly, you sat up, darkness filling your vision. You felt weight around your torso, a groggy voice whispering, "what‘s the matter, baby?"

Something felt wrong but not the way it felt before. There was no broken heart or anger, just relief with fear. Pulling her arm away from your body, the United player sat up, rubbing her eyes, "are ya alright?" her accent was thicker, a common thing when she woke up - the raspiness and her thick accent one of many weaknesses you had when it came to the young lioness. "Tell me what you need" her arms hugged your shaking figure as her finger tips wiped away the spilt tears.

"You cheated on me" you stated, staring into nothing.

"What?" shock filled her voice. She turned on the lights to look at you properly and what she saw broke her.

Your face was pale, eyes sad and body posture so scared. "Baby, look at me" gently, she cupped one of your cheeks, turning you to face her, "why would you say sat?"

More tears streamed down your face, "I- i came home from work and then there you were with- and you were kissing" as a sob escaped your throat.

"No, babygirl, never. C‘mere" she let you cry in her chest as she held you in a death but secure grip. Compared to the sight in front of her, all the pain she had felt before was nothing.

This was terrible.

Once you calmed down, the midfielder started talking again, "you just had a bad dream."

"Do you see this?" she asked with a firm voice, holding out your hand, pointing to the ring on your finger. You nodded, eyes fixed on the beauty of a ring, "you‘re my wife. You married me. You‘re my teenage sweetheart, I’ve loved you since I was 14. I‘d be stupid if I cheated on you - you‘re the best thing that’s ever happened to me"

She looked at you with so much love, every inch of her body crazily in love with you.

As she said, she would be stupid to cheat on you - she showed you everyday how much in love she was with you. She treated you the way you deserved to be treated, cooked meals for you, even though she can‘t cook and spoiled you every two weeks with flowers, paid, when you were out and much more - that girl loved you.

You brought out the best version of herself.

"I, Ella Ann Toone, vow to love and never cheat on you till the day I die and the days in the afterlife" she stated, the same as she did on your wedding day, both hands cupping your cheeks.

"I love you too"

Ella pressed the most loving kiss to your forehead before she jumped out of bed, holding out her hands, "come on, I’m making breakfast" the bubbly girl grinned, pulling you up.

"Argh!" you squealed as the girl kissed all over your face and picked you up.

She carried you to kitchen, placing you down on the counter, "now sit there and look good"

The midfielder swirled around the kitchen, plates clinking as she cooked some breakfast or whatever you could call it. "Ya know, maybe because you didn’t eat my dinner which was prepared with love you had a bad dream about me" Ella sing-sang, prompting her arms on your legs.

The night before Ella tried to cook you the awesome meal Alessia showed her but it didn‘t go as planned. The kitchen looked like hell, the food burned as the Mancunian forgot about the oven, too caught up in kissing you and it turned out that she used sugar instead of salt.

"Hey!" you laughed, your arms going around your neck, "you got an E for effort"

The lioness joined your laughter with her own as she leaned forward, "I love you" she grinned sincerely before she kissed you. Your lips matched perfectly, made for each other - never kissed some else, which neither of you would ever do.

The bad dream was long forgotten, the only thing on your mind: Ella and the way she made you feel.

Long ago, Ella promised herself that you‘d be her teenage sweetheart and her old romance.

One day, she‘ll sit on a bench with you, both of you with grey hair as you looked in the far, talking and giggling about your young years.

You will be her first, last and only lover.

"The stove!"

————————

[enwoso]

if you still need inspo, how about grumpy's first words?

BABY BABBLE — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

it was media day at united and alessia had been busy all day taking photos in the new kit for the next and upcoming season as you sat playing around with whichever united player was free which right now was ella.

“and where’s mary?” she asked as you hummed pointing over to the goalkeeper who was wearing the brightest kit in the room it would be hard to miss her.

ella had been trying to get you to talk for some weeks now of course wanting you to say her name first. imagine her best friends reaction to her child saying her name first instead of the traditional mama.

“can you say mary” ella tried over pronouncing the word, so that each syllable could be heard properly as you just smiled and babbled away not saying anything remotely similar to what the brunette had said.

alessia had been patient with the fact you weren’t talking yet, you were still pretty young and she quite enjoyed listening to your cute little babbles. alessia had each babble translated and could understand you to know if you wanted or needed anything, she felt as though the two of you had your own little special language that only the two of you could understand.

“and where’s mama?” ella questioned her hands going out either side as she looked around confused waiting for your answer. you pointing straightaway to your mummy who was taking photos with a ball.

“mama ball” you smiled still pointed to your mum as ella gasping loudly as her mouth hung open in shock.

“wait what?” ella whispered in disbelief that you’d said your first words other than your usual baby babble.

“who is that over there?” ella repeated pointing towards alessia again who was non the wiser of what was happening with her daughter as you sat in a huddle of toys still with the same smile on your face.

“mama ball!” you said again, the mama was clear as day but ella couldn’t quite understand the second part as it sounded like ba to her but quickly her shock changed to a big celebration as she held her hand out for you to high five.

“gosh your so clever tiny!” you high fived the brunette as you heard her shouting your mummy over who came over the ball in her hand.

“watch this less!” ella smirked as alessia kneeled down the ball in front of her as the blonde was suspicious as to what was about to happen.

“ok tiny, who’s that!” ella pointed at alessia as you grinned to yourself, “mama ball!” you giggled after you said it seeing the apparent shock on your mummy’s face before in seconds she scooped you up attacking your face with kisses.

“oh my little girl” alessia pouted, it was the small moments like this when you reached another milestone that alessia wishes she could keep you this small forever as there’ll be a day where you won’t rely on your mummy as much.

you were sat on her knee playing with the football she and brought over. you repeating to yourself the word ball.

“so that’s what she meant by ba, it’s ball!” ella realised as alessia looked at her with a strange look, “what did you think she was saying?”

“well sorry i don’t speak baby babble, to me it just sounded like the noise a sheep makes!”

[ceesimz]

This is gut-wrenching to see. I grew up a Man United fan, it was in my blood, my whole family are Manchester United fans and there was nothing I loved more than watching them play growing up because of what they meant to my family.

And then... the last few years happened. I've never felt more disconnected from that team then I do now, I don't class myself as a Manchester United fan anymore. Because honestly what is there to like? There's nothing! I back the girls, and I always will, but I have zero connection with the club because how can I support a system that has no humanity?

First, it was the treatment of Greenwood and how they literally threw the women under the bus by saying "We asked the women of our club whether they'd like him to stay a part of the team or not." (paraphrasing) How the hell can you, firstly, use that as a decision-making strategy, and secondly openly admit it to the public and leave the women subject to hate from the scum of the earth online? And things only got worse from here. The men's team being called 'the first team', cancelling the celebration dinner after the women won their first ever competitive trophy, how the women are always an 'afterthought', and so much more that is so infuriating to witness.

The last decade, even, has been a downward slope I've been ashamed to see. I don't recognise this club, and I know a lot of female fans don't either because of the treatment from the owners and other senior staff. Again, I fully support the girls and it's not their fault they play for such a bullshit team, but I don't think I could ever consider myself a Man United fan again. Not in these circumstances. I've been a neutral for the last few years and I tell you, football is a lot less stressful that way😅

I hope there's some heavy protests within the women's team and that some of the players realise they deserve the world, not this BS. Nobody can hate them for leaving and I hope no one does, but that's as rare as winning the lottery. They deserve so so much better, this shouldn't be their fight. As always, one step forward and a hundred steps back.

[alotofpockets]

Ona Batlle at Man United Appreciation

Request a player | @totaly-obsessed

[meademalove]

Just posting this here because I can not shake what was in that Athletic article. Massive respect to Alessia for never saying a word, being so dignified throughout, and for how she took all that online abuse, booing, etc. with so much class. Truth always comes out.

I thought when they went back on their word to David de Gea, it was shitty of them, and to learn, they did almost the same thing to her! That club and some of those fans owe her a massive apology!

Glad she hung their asses to dry and is now at a place where she feels loved, valued, and appreciated. She deserves all that and more, gem of a human being. 💎❤️

[nytb]

The Instagram Story Part 2

The weeks passed as Y/N played the field with the mystery Instagram girl, well not that mysterious.

The players knew who she was after all, but they never really met her. They were just stuck hearing Lucia's stories about the late nights, the sounds that came from behind Y/N's bedroom door.

That surely played a role when it came to Y/N and Ona's relationship.

Adding up all the media duties, late night dates and Y/N studies, Ona had little to no time with Y/N. Something the defender certainly disliked.

The Spanish defender took the matter into her hands. Y/N had been rooming with Russo during away games, well not anymore.

“So” Y/N looked over to Ona's bed “How did you get Russo to abandon me?”.

Ona was left struggling for an answer, so she opted to be the lighthearted person approach “Well that's dramatic” she joked “Anyway, want to join the girls on game night?”.

“Talk about changing the topic” Y/N laughed, Ona's charm didn't seem to work on her “I would rather stay in and watch a movie”.

The defender took Y/N's wishes as commands, opening Netflix on her tablet and joining Y/N's bed.

“You can come into the sheets ya know” a not so subtle invitation, the Spanish midfielder was known to be upfront, but even this was too forward of her. Taking Ona's reaction to her previous request into consideration, Y/N tried to deescalate the situation “If you want to”.

“Um..” the defender stuttered “sure” she slowly entered Y/N's bed, being careful not to get too close.

“Why are you acting weird?” another question that had Ona struggling for an answer, choosing to play dumb for this one. “No I'm not” she argued, turning her attention to her iPad “What do you want to watch?”

The rest of the night played out how you would expect; Y/N trying to get closer to the Spanish defender as Ona experienced some major gay panic.

Ona slowly woke up, Y/N cuddled up to her, their legs intertwined. The defender didn't know what to do with herself. Play it cool and stay in bed? Leave as nothing happened? Wake Y/N up? The red devil didn't have time to make her choice. Y/N's phone rang.

The midfielder was suddenly woken up, clueless, somewhat lost. She looked up at Ona's face “Are you gonna get that?” the defender asked, pointing to her phone.

“Uh- uh yes yes”- well that was embarrassing. At some point during the night, Ona stated to make more of an impact on the midfielder.

Weird how sleeping in someones bed will do that to you.

Y/N was left playing the situation down, not even mentioning it to her regular Instagram date girl. Just another secret among friends.

Turns out that this secret would cost Y/N her mystery girl. The woman wasn't clueless. Y/N's time started to be divided among both women. Y/N favoring Ona whenever there was a chance to.

At some point it all started to add up. Y/N's feelings changed. They developed into a crush. There was only one detail that she hadn't figured out yet. The crush was reciprocated.

So, clueless as she was to it, she stopped going out with her Instagram mystery girl. Y/N started to make time for Ona when she barely had it for herself. Making up excuses to be near her fellow Spaniard.

Ona wasn't stupid, she started to pick up on it. Y/N's lingering looks, unexplained affections, going from unreachable to one call away.

Post match, Ona tried her luck “I see you” she stated leaving a questioning look on Y/N. “I'm happy you do?” more of a question than a statement. The defender scooted closer.

Oh god, it was happening. Was this that moment? Was the Spaniard going to declare her feelings?

“What a performance” - talk about a cop out. Maybe the whole declaring your undying love for a teammate wasn't meant to be. At least not just yet.