#matching icons football
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jkkyks · 4 months ago
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So here is the deal, if he stared at me like that, u might find me searching on our wedding venues and all yk. Just sayin
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iconsbfr · 1 month ago
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winqzr · 1 year ago
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antonella and messi matching icons.
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moonlbabe2 · 2 years ago
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pernillecfcw · 2 years ago
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Lionesses have arrived 🦁❤️
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meowmeowmessi · 2 years ago
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maybe i should rewatch the morocco vs portugal match instead of pep era barça comps to cheer myself up
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azulpitlane · 6 months ago
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be aggressive l ln4
lando norris x dcc!reader summary: the internet is curious as to why lando suddenly has an interest in american football, specifically with the dallas cowboys masterlist
f1gossip
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13,283 likes
f1gossip Lando Norris and Mclaren CEO, Zak Brown at the Dallas Cowboys game today in the AT&T stadium!!
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user his ass did not wanna be there😭
user lando?? american football?? huh???
user guys it was sponsored by hilton!! pretty sure thats why they attended
user makes sense cause bro looked miserable by the second half of the game
user a strange strange sight
user mf was bored the whole game except when the cheerleaders performed LMFAO
user the video of him locking in as soon as they stepped out in the field💀 ↪user WHERES THE VIDEO HAHAH? ↪user the video is all over twitter, cameraman did him dirty lmfao
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris and 12,379 others
yourusername victory sunday💙🤍💙
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user lesss goooo cowboys
user FAVE DCC
user in y/n we trust🧎‍♀️
user wait a minute- lando what are you doing here?!?
user no cause i noticed that too👀
user obsessed with you
user patiently waiting for the lando girlies to realize he followed her immediately after tonights game
user poor lando didnt get the follow back tho😭😭
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris and 19,382 others
yourusername first ever grand prix!!! such a delight to perform for these lovely faces✨
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user you guys made paying hundreds of dollars for a ticket worth it tbh
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user another lando like, jolene im begging you pls dont take my man😔
user its the other way around for me😩 lando needs to back off my girl
user 🔥
landonorris amazing performance😍
user oh we're getting bold??? user down bad lando is my favorite lando fr user OMGGG FUTURE WAG Y/N??
user STOP is she the reason lando went to that cowboys game a few weeks ago
user going to her games and they're not even dating yet, gotta respect the game tbh😭
user sorry to break girls' hearts but there's videos of her and lando talking at the gp and he was blushing and giving her heart eyes the whole time
user literally came to her account cause of that video HAHAH
landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, maxfewtrell and 930,482 others
landonorris 'murica
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user PASSENGER PRINCESS LANDO???
user ARE THOSE DCC BOOTS IN THE LAST SLIDE???
user it HAS to be the cheerleader he just followed cause they wear the exact same boots ↪user her name is Y/N!! put some respect in our dcc queen's name ↪user yes maam🫡, i apologize for my ignorance as a brit
user lando in a cowboy hat?? SHOW IT TO ME NOW RACHEL
maxfewtrell man you never let me drive when youre in the car
landonorris yeah cause i dont trust u maxfewtrell YOUVE KNOWN ME LONGER THAN Y/N??this comment has been deleted
user did max just confirm it is y/n THEE DCC in the last slide🧍‍♀️
user LMFAOO i know lando gave him an earful after that deleted comment user too late for him to delete, I HAVE IT PRINTED OUT! Y/N AND LANDO CONFIRMED
user streets are saying it's y/n in the last slide... we lost her guys😔
user AND WE LOST HER TO A BRITISH MAN💔💔
user now we wait for y/n to follow him and start soft launching too
danielricciardo glad i trusted the process
landonorris TOLD YOU user i hate when they comment inside jokes, got me feeling left out :(
user wait the way he let her drive even though hes said before he hates not being in control, meaning he already trusts her🥹
user i love her already omg
user lando dating an american cheerleader is actually the most lando thing ever
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 18,392 others
yourusername current side mission: turning a brit into a texan
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user bae just tag lando norris, we know it's him
user NOO I WAS HOPING IT WAS JUST RUMORS💔
user girl lando does not know who you are ↪user i was talking about y/n ↪user oh sorry, valid reaction tbh
user the matching pictures of her driving and him as the passenger princess on his post omg this is the most perfect soft launch i fear
user i waited for 3 and half years for her and white man did it in one week😩
user her soft launching as if max didnt already confirm it on landos post
yourusername shhh just pretend you didn't see that, cant have my soft launch ruined ↪user sorry maam, whatever you say maam
user lando is so posh but she has him driving dirt bikes and going to rodeos HAHAHHA
user the way he looked just watching a football game was hilarious, i cant even imagine a rodeo
user as a european f1 fan, can someone explain why she's so loved? (IM ASKING IN THE NICEST WAY POSSIBLE I SWEAR)
user LOL she's a cheerleader for the dallas cowboys football team which is a huge deal here! it's pretty hard to join the squad but shes a fifth year veteran (about to retire after this year) and she's known as one of the sweetest and kindest leaders on the squad!! she also met lando at a game!
user does she know she has twitter freaking out with this post?
user not that im complaining but this is the first time i see an f1 couple getting so much love HOW AND WHY??
user well y/n is quite literally america's sweetheart
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, pietra.pilao and 23,492 others
yourusername one last christmas show🥹
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user what is dcc without y/n☹️
user gonna miss her so bad
user still looked amazing
user okay but is she still with that nascar driver or whatever cause wowwwww😍
landonorris yes, she is still with the FORMULA ONE DRIVER. ↪user OMG AN OFFICIAL CONFIRMATION???
pietra.pilao be with me please?
landonorris 🤨
landonorris woah woah you didnt say you were gonna post this one??? you look too good???
yourusername what happened to not commenting on each other's post until the hard launch🙂 (but ty ily) landonorris i take that back. (ily more) ↪user theyre losers but i love them your honor
footballplayer 🔥
landonorris yeah nice try🤣
user landos fighting for his life in these comments HAHA
user he fr ruined y/n's soft launch cause he cant handle these commenters hitting on her omfg
user kinda scared to comment, i dont want lando coming for me
user please dont be in love with someone else😩please dont have somebody waiting on you😩
landonorris she is in fact in love with someone else and does in fact have somebody waiting on her (ME) ↪user lando is a loser bf CONFIRMED
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 973,492 others
landonorris winter break means football games with my beautiful girl
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user finally the hard launch
user she literally is turning him into a texan GRAHHHH🦅🇺🇸
user *pretends to be shocked*
yourusername ILYYYYYYY
landonorris ❤️
user sad about her retiring dcc but happy we'll be getting so much WAG content
user OMG i didnt even think of this ↪user already imagining the paddock fits😩
user ig i have to accept shes officially taken :(
landonorris yeah. ↪user chill bro aint nobody taking her from you
user bro saw all the thrist comments on her last post and decided to hard launch
maxfewtrell ranch in texas when??
yourusername OMG SOON PLEASE @/LANDONORRIS?? ↪landonorris um idk about that ↪yourusername 🤨 ↪landonorris I MEANT ILL THINK ABOUT IT!! IT SOUNDS LIKE A GREAT IDEA😁🫶
user shes got him on a LEASH
danielricciardo ahh feels like yesterday that you bought tickets for the game AND the flight to have a 5 second interaction with the cute dcc
user damn lando was down bad wth😭 landonorris thank you for making this public information. ↪yourusername hey at least you beat the norizz allegations! eventually...
user as an american, im allowing you to count cota as your home race for bagging this queen
user oh lando norris i underestimated your game
User he gets the y'all pass now
landonorris THANK YALLLLLL
user the americanfication of lando is not something i knew i needed, but i did. thank you miss y/n
yourusername youre welcome, he will be listening to zach bryan and dolly parton in no time🫡
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notes: one thing about me is im gonna start getting lazy at the end of every smau i make. LOL. anyway i love american reader if you havent noticed already :)
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theworldgate · 2 years ago
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I have to explain what is going on in the UK, because it is absurd.
So, this is Gary Lineker:
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He's known for a fair few things over here. He was a very good (association) footballer, playing for England in the 1986 and 1990 World Cups, winning the Golden Boot in 1986, and managing to never get a single yellow card in his playing career. He played for Leicester City, Everton, Barcelona, and Tottenham, before finishing his career in Japan. But if you aren't in your mid 30s, you probably know actually know him him for a couple of other things. The first is the role of spokesman for another Leicester icon, Walkers Crisps (which are sort of equivalent to Lays, but hit different), as pictured above. Despite being a notably clean player, he used to play a cheeky serial crisp thief. I don't think he's done that for well over a decade, but his ads were on the telly a lot when I was a kid and it's a bit like learning that the hamburglar was an incredibly clean (American) football player or something.
The second thing Gary is widely known for is having presented Match of the Day, the big football program on the BBC, the sort-of state broadcaster, since 1999. He is, incidentally, very well paid for this (though with a consensus that he could get even more if he went to one of the non-free-to-view broadcasters because he is very good at the job). He also has a twitter account. And political opinions. So, the UK government has got itself dead set upon doing heinous stuff that will totally somehow work to prevent people who want to come to the UK making the perilous crossing of the Channel (between England and France). By heinous, I mean "openly advertise that they won't attempt to protect victims of modern slavery" stuff. It's very obviously using a legal hammer to victimise a marginalised group of people in order to win votes. And, uh, I should clarify that by "legal" I mean "using the passage of laws" - the policy is, in addition to all the other ways it's awful, probably incompatible with the Human Rights Act and the UK's international law obligations. Gary, top lad that he is, objected to this. On Tuesday 7th March, he made a quote Tweet of a video of the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, bigging up the policy, he wrote "Good heavens, this is beyond awful.". This got a bunch of backlash from extremely right-wingers, and then he made the tweet that really got him in trouble (with right-wingers): "There is no huge influx. We take far fewer refugees than other major European countries. This is just an immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s, and I’m out of order?".
Now, I am not actually subjecting myself to watching a video of Suella Braverman bigging up a cruel policy to say whether the specific comparison of the language to 1930s Germany is accurate. But needless to say, Ms Braverman was amongst the many figures on the right of UK politics objecting to Gary's rhetoric. And here's the part where a fact about the BBC comes in: it is nominally neutral and impartial (and so, of course, is routinely accused of bias from all sides but particularly the right-wing), and has something of a code for its contributors to this effect. Now, that code has previously been applied to Gary Lineker, over a comment about whether governing Conservative Party would hand back donations from figures linked to the Russian regime. But it generally hasn't been applied too strongly to people like Gary, whose roles have nothing to do with politics (such as presenting a "here's what happened on the footie today" show), on the basis that, well, their roles have nothing to do with politics. However, when directly asked about whether the BBC should punish Gary Lineker for his tweets, government figures basically went "well, that's a them problem". But a couple of days passed, and it seemed like Gary's approach of "standing his ground because he did nothing wrong" was working and everything would die down. He was set to get 'a talking to' but not much more than that. The Conservative right, after all their fire and fury earlier, had gotten bored and moved onto something else. And then, on Friday 10th March, the BBC announced that he would be suspended from hosting Match of the Day this weekend. But it could still go ahead, because there are, like, other hosts! Except, well, funnily enough, when you take a beloved figure off air, for making a fairly anodyne tweet, no one wants to be the scab who actually takes up the role of replacing him. Gary's two co-hosts, Alan Shearer and Ian Wright, said that they would not appear without him. People who (co-)host Match of the Day on other days followed suit. The net result is that Match of the Day is currently set to air without hosts, BBC commentary, or global feed commentary. And the solidarity shown to Gary Lineker, over what is very flagrantly actual cancel culture and an attack on freedom of speech (the logic implied is that institutional impartiality requires that no one say anything too critical of the government ever), has continued to grow. The BBC has pretty much been unable to run pretty much any live sports content today, and has resorted to raiding the BBC Sounds archive to fill the sports radio channel. And, as of 17:30 on Saturday 11th March, the situation shows no signs of improvement, though some are calling for the Chairman Richard Sharp, who is separately facing corruption allegations, to resign (yes I linked to the BBC itself there, there is nothing, nothing, the BBC loves more than going into great detail about how much the BBC sucks).
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cheriladycl01 · 4 months ago
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I’m in absolute awe with your writing, I’ve sat here reading so many.
I have an idea for a fic -
lando x Beckham!reader. Reader is playing in the grand final and it’s the Beckham family cheering and they pan the camera to her family bc she scores and they see Lando sitting, cheering and chatting with them so after they decide to hard launch
Chelsea vs Manchester City - Lando Norris x Beckham Reader
Plot: a football match couldn’t be the reason to hard launch a relationship… right?
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It was the final match of the season and you were up against Manchester City. Your family had of course come to watch you. It was the first time your whole family was there. Usually it just happened to be your twin brother Romeo and your dad. But today you had Brooklyn, Cruz, Harper, Romeo and your mum and dad.
Your boyfriend, F1 driver Lando Norris had also managed to come to your game. This was a surprise and you didn’t actually know he was coming, but with him and Romeo being good friends they’d organised the little surprise for you.
It was 15 minutes into the match and you were yelling to your team-mate Lauren to pass the ball to you, one of the Man-City girls was blocking you but as the ball was kicked in our direction you ran forward for the ball, kicking it back to Lauren running further up the pitch to the goal as its passed back to you.
You are in the zone, you foot breezes through the air and drives into the ball and before you can blink its in the back of the net.
1-0 to Chelsea.
Your team-mates all come up to you pulling you into a celebratory hug shaking your shoulders and one of them evening lifting you up into a hug. You cheer loudly practically screaming.
“And what an incredible goal that was, Lauren James and Y/N Y/L/N, what a dynamic duo they are! Honestly their team work is impeccable” one of the commentators for Sky Sports sounds just as the TV pans to your family. Not that you see that as your too busy celebrating with your team.
It shows Romeo and your dad embrace while Harper and your mother cheer with some polite claps for you. Brooklyn and Cruz are like hooligans jumping up and down chanting your name. Lando also gets shown on camera, and all that can be said is that when the camera replays his reaction along with the rest of your family when the goal went in he looked like a typical British lad at a football match a massive cheer and aggressive yet passionate smile on his face before turning to celebrate with your family.
“Here is the Beckhams family, such an iconic name, all of them here to support Y/N and we also have McLaren F1 Driver Lando Norris with her family. Obviously we’ve seen he’s friends with Romeo Beckham, Y/n’s twin but that was an incredibly passionate reaction for a driver who says he doesn’t involve himself in football as much anymore” a commentator adds, as your family’s celebration is shown.
“So Lando, you like watching my sister?” Romeo asked as he leaned over to Lando who was avidly watching his sister.
“Well, she is my girlfriend mate” he laughs taking his eyes off you for a split second to look at Romeo.
“Your smitten and it’s fucking disgusting” Romeo gags looking at Lando with a harsh expression.
“Calm down man, I might be part of the family one day” he teases elbowing his friend.
“Regrettably I think you already are. Mum and dad love you. Cruz is obsessed with you more than my sister… Harper loves the gifts you bring her and Brooklyn enjoys your convos. I hate to say it but you’re a Beckham” he laughs, he loved that his sister had actually ended up with Lando, he was a good friend and someone he could trust with his twin. Someone he was insanely protective over.
The match continues, Man City equalise just 5 minute before halftime. Sam Kerr your teammate scored one minute before, just after you got a yellow card that had both you and your family crying out in protest. You to the ref and your family just to one another.
Everyone could see the unhappy look on Lando’s face as he complained to your dad and brother.
After halftime break where you spoke about strategy and how to keep up the effectiveness going forward it was back out onto the pitch for all of you.
You scored another goal, making the scores 3-1 and before you knew it time was up and you were celebrating with your girls the win of the championship. You also were excited as this was your’s and Lauren’s chance to get onto the English Women’s Team.
After you showered and got out of your sweaty kit you went out to find your family and boyfriend. The first person you saw was your dad and you ran up to him pulling him into a massive hug.
“There she is, my little star!” Your dad cries holding you tightly against him. The rest of your family hug and kiss you, making it known just how proud they are of you. Lando was the final face you turned to see. Your family of course knew about the two of you and had seen you two interact in the family house and when you all went out for dinner.
He pulled you in for a soft kiss, Cruz and Harper immediately teasing you about it while Romeo cringes away.
“Lan, please that’s my twin sister” he cringes and looks between the two of you who have now finally pulled away from each other.
“Awwww leave them Romeo, I see myself and your father in them, but even more romantic” your mother smiles and you cannot help the big goofy grin that comes over you face.
“So, I may have been on TV, I’m kind of famous now!” He grins and Brooklyn and your dad laugh at his joke.
“Haha very funny baby” you laugh sarcastically and look at the rest of your family who have slowly started to back away to leave you and Lando alone.
“Where are you guys going? I thought we were all going to dinner and then me, Brooklyn, Cruz, Romeo and Lando were going to the club to celebrate?” You ask as they all look to one another debating who was going to explain.
“Yes, but we’ll meet you there. Lando’s driving you and Romeo!” Your mother starts and before you can even ask where Romeo is going if he was going in the car with you.
“Before you say anything I’m going to the toilet. That game was riveting and I couldn’t leave my seat, okay? I’ll meet you at the car” Romeo says before jogging of round the corner. The rest of your family also left and you were left with Lando, standing hand in hand.
“Baby have you seen twitter since the match?” He asks his brows slightly furrowed and a nervous aura around him.
“No, I haven’t why? Has something happened?” You ask looking over him, checking out his know awkward body language.
“Well, we are … sort of trending because I was sat with you family, people think we’re dating now.”
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“Well, we are dating…” you giggle and he nods slowly.
“I know, and we’ve been dating for a while and I just wanted to know if maybe you thought it was time we … hard launch?” He blurts out and you just keep smiling at your silly boyfriend who looks so nervous asking you this. Anyone else would think he was proposing to you right now.
“Yes, let’s do it!” You smile at him squeezing his hand.
“R-really?” He asks and you nod, pulling him in and kissing his cheek.
“Yes baby.” You nod.
y/user
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Liked by landonorris, romeobeckham and others
y/user: It’s been an incredible weekend. Loved getting to share the win and championship with my family 🏎️⚽️
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landonorris: I love you baby, so so proud ❤️
-> y/user: love you infinite amounts 😩
user1: see how Y/N considers Lando part of her family? Very cutesy, very demure 🏎️🌸
romeobeckham: THATS MY TWIN, sick stuff Y/N 👩🏼‍🍳
-> y/user: you next!
user2: HARDLAUNCH Y/N! Is that you and Lan after the match?
-> y/user: yeah he gave me the biggest hug! 🎀
-> user2: OMG QUEEN REPLIED?
davidbeckham: Dad is proud hunny! You did amazing stuff out there today 🤙🏼✅
mclaren: Will you exchange Blue for Papaya for a race? 💙<🧡
-> y/user: depends on the offer admin 👀
-> landonorris: BABY! You were supposed to say yes! 😩🧡
oscarpiastri: can’t wait to see you at the next race!
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Instagram Story Caption
THATS MY GURLS 🌸💕🐷🎀🤙🏼
landonorris
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Liked by y/n, oscarpiastri and others
landonorris: So … this is mine now apparently? She’s non-refundable 🫣💙
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y/user: excuse me? 🥺
-> landonorris: I joke I joke! I love you baby 🫣💙
lewishamilton: amazing win y/n and congrats you guys.
danielricciardo: it’s about damn time, I been hearing all his bitchin and whinin and pinin
-> visacashapprb: Daniel, Admin are requesting you kindly take this down
maxverstappen1: Well done mate. You managed it 🤙🏼
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Instagram Story Caption
LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND RN 🥺🌸
Taglist:
@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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meazalykov · 1 month ago
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oberdorf's daughter
lena oberdorf x reader x daughter!oc
summary: the daughter who carries on the legacy of you and lena
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meadow oberdorf stood in the center of the pitch, her heart pounding against her ribcage as the floodlights of the stadium illuminated the field.
the semis of the 2047 world cup—the biggest moment of her life. 
the german crowd roared around her, their cheers deafening, their chants reverberating through the air as if they were singing her name. she wore the number six jersey, the same number lena had worn during her legendary career. 
it was a badge of honor and an unspoken challenge, one she accepted with pride. she was lena’s daughter, after all, but she was also yours. 
you sat in the stands, leaning forward as you gripped lena’s hand tightly. her palm was as clammy as yours. she was nervous; you both were. this was no ordinary match, not for meadow, not for you. it was germany versus the united states. the weight of that alone pressed down on your chest. 
it was the two nations that defined your family—the one you were born into and the one you’d chosen through love and marriage.
your daughter’s dark brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, identical to lena’s signature style during her playing days. when meadow turned her head, her sharp features, the strong jawline, the defined cheekbones.. it reminded you of lena at her peak. 
as much as meadow looked like lena, her fire, her stubborn determination, and her unwavering ability to push through the toughest of situations? that was you. that was all you.
meadow hadn’t slept much the night before the match. her mind was racing as she replayed years of memories. she’d grown up watching clips of you as a 17-year-old prodigy in 2019, scoring the winning goal in the final against the netherlands. 
your fiery passion on the field had always inspired her. she remembered the stories lena told her about the infamous 2027 final—germany versus the united states, where you and lena faced off in what the press had called the “battle of the greatest countries in women’s football.” 
you scored two goals that final, leading the 2-0 u.s. victory, and lena still joked about how it took her weeks to forgive you, despite you going to her doorstep every morning to give her forgiveness flowers.
growing up in a household where both parents were icons of the sport wasn’t easy, but meadow thrived under the weight of expectation. she learned tactics and strength from lena, who taught her how to read the game and control the midfield with calm precision. 
from you, she inherited creativity, speed, and the ability to turn a match on its head with a single moment of brilliance.
still, nothing could have prepared her for this—facing the united states in the world cup semifinals. it wasn’t just any team. it was your team, the one that had shaped you, molded you, and catapulted you into football history. 
“don’t think about that,” you told her the night before the match, sitting beside her on the couch in the team hotel. you visited her specifically when she asked to talk with you, and you alone without her other mama.
meadow leaned into your side, seeking comfort like she always did when the pressure became too much. 
“focus on your game. don’t play for obi or for me. play for yourself. that’s all that matters.”
meadow didn’t say much. she simply nodded, her dark eyes focused on the floor. but you knew her well enough to see the conflict raging inside her. she wanted to make you proud, but how could she when you were american? how could she look you in the eyes if her goal meant eliminating the country you’d once captained?
“listen to me,” you whispered, turning her face to look at you. 
“you don’t owe me or mama lena anything, okay? you’re already everything we could’ve dreamed of. tomorrow, no matter what happens, i’ll be rooting for you. nobody else. you.”
tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “thanks, mama.”
as the match progressed, you watched meadow closely. her every movement was deliberate and purposeful. she covered the midfield with ease, combining lena’s physicality with your tactical awareness. 
when the united states launched an attack, meadow was there, intercepting a pass with a perfectly timed slide tackle. lena jumped to her feet beside you, clapping and cheering loudly, her pride unmistakable.
the u.s. defense was solid, and germany struggled to break through. the scoreline remained 0-0, and as the minutes ticked by, the tension in the stadium grew thicker. meadow’s face was a mask of focus, but you knew her well enough to see the frustration building.
 
in the 89th minute, the ball found its way to meadow at the edge of the box. her teammate had passed it to her under pressure, and meadow had seconds—maybe less—to make a decision. time seemed to slow as she took a single touch to control the ball, her head lifting to scan the goal. 
the american goalkeeper was positioned well, but meadow didn’t hesitate. 
with a sharp pivot and a quick shift of her body weight, she struck the ball with her right foot. the shot was a rocket, curving through the air like it had a mind of its own. it sailed past the outstretched hands of the goalkeeper and crashed into the top corner of the net.
the stadium erupted.
meadow stood frozen for a moment, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. then, as the roar of the crowd washed over her, she turned and ran toward the corner flag, her hands outstretched, her face lit up with pure joy. mea’s german teammates swarmed her, piling on top of her in celebration. 
you and lena were on your feet, shouting and cheering. your heart felt like it might burst from your chest as you watched meadow step out of the huddle, pointing at the german badge on her chest. she looked straight at the stands, her eyes searching until they found you.
she mouthed something—"this is for you"—and you felt your throat tighten with emotion.
lena pulled you into a tight hug, her own tears streaming down her face. “that’s our girl,” she whispered, her voice trembling with pride. 
“our daughter.”
after the final whistle, germany’s victory was sealed, and meadow’s goal became the defining
moment of the match. as the players celebrated on the field, meadow broke away and sprinted toward the stands where you and lena were. 
security let her through, and before you knew it, she was in your arms, her jersey damp with sweat, her face flushed with exertion and happiness.
“i did it, mama,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. 
“i did it.”
you cupped her face in your hands, your own tears finally spilling over. 
“you were incredible. absolutely incredible.”
lena joined the embrace, wrapping both of you in her arms. “we’re so proud of you, mein schatz,” she said, kissing the top of meadow’s head. 
meadow pulled back slightly, looking at you with a wide grin. 
“you don’t think i’m a traitor, right? for knocking out the u.s.?”
you laughed, shaking your head. 
“are you kidding me? that was one of the best goals i’ve ever seen. and trust me, i’ve seen a lot.”
“probably better than your second goal against us back in 2027..” 
“hey!” you gasped in fake offensiveness.
“i’m kidding! besides meadow,” lena added with a smirk, “you’ve always been german anyways.”
meadow smiled, her eyes shining with pride and relief. 
“i couldn’t have done it without you guys. without everything you’ve taught me.”
you hugged her again, holding her tightly. 
“you didn’t just make us proud tonight, meadow. you made yourself proud.”
masterlist
authors note: this wasn't in wip since I typed this up in the middle of the night (couldn't sleep and thought this was a cute idea that I couldn't forget about). enjoy the two fics in one day :)
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jkkyks · 10 months ago
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He looked so .. GOOD!!!! AND SCORED TWICE TODAY + MAN OF THE MATCH??? KYLIAN MBAPPE THE MAN THAT YOU ARE😫😫😫
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iconsbfr · 5 months ago
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faithsotherhouseofchaos · 5 days ago
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Breast reduction surgery||Charles leclerc x fem!reader
Summary— Charles loves your breast so when you decide to tell him that you’re thinking about a reduction surgery he feels like his world is ending.
Word count —589
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in Charles’ apartment, the kind of day that begged for nothing more than lounging on the couch and ignoring the world. He was half-watching a football match, the sound of commentators filling the space as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone. Beside him, Y/N was curled up, legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone with a focused look on her face.
Out of nowhere, she sighed, set her phone down, and said casually, “I think I’m finally going to do it.”
Charles looked up, brow furrowing. “Do what?”
She didn’t even glance at him. “Get a breast reduction.”
It took him a moment to process the words. He blinked, sat up straighter, and turned to her with wide eyes. “Hold on. What now?”
Y/N finally looked at him, her expression calm but resolute. “I’ve been thinking about it for years, and I think it’s time. My back can’t take it anymore.”
Charles stared at her like she’d just suggested selling their firstborn child. “Your back? When did this become about your back?”
“Always,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Charles, you know this. I’ve been complaining for ages.”
He leaned back, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ve complained, sure, but I just thought it was, like, normal life complaining. Not surgery-level complaining!”
“Charles,” she said firmly, her tone laced with both patience and warning.
He sat up, his full attention now on her. “You’re seriously thinking about just… getting rid of them? Like, just like that?”
“Yes.”
“But…” He gestured dramatically at her chest. “You can’t just get rid of them! They’re—” He paused, grasping for the right word. “They’re iconic!”
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting bringing this up while he was awake. “Charles. I’m in pain all the time. My shoulders have permanent dents from my bra straps, I can’t go running without strapping myself in like a gladiator, and every button-up shirt I own gapes open like it’s crying for help.”
“Okay,” he said, raising a hand to stop her. “But—”
“And bras?” she interrupted. “Do you know how much I spend on bras? A hundred bucks each, minimum. And they’re not even cute. They’re functional. Like, ‘industrial scaffolding’ functional.”
Charles blinked at her, his lips parting like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said weakly, “But… you look great in them.”
“Oh my god.” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “This is not about how I look, Charles. It’s about how I feel. And I feel like I’m carrying around a couple of bowling balls every day of my life.”
He frowned, leaning forward as if he could reason his way out of this. “But what about us?”
“What about us?”
“Our dynamic! The… the whole…” He gestured at her chest again, like it was a key player in their relationship. “You know, vibe.”
“Charles,” she said flatly. “They’re boobs.”
“Not just boobs,” he argued. “They’re your boobs. They’re a part of you. A part of us!”
She stared at him, deadpan. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious!” He stood up, pacing in front of the couch now. “Do you know how many people would kill for what you’ve got? And you’re just gonna… throw them away like an old sweater?”
“Okay, first of all, ew. And second of all, you’re being dramatic.”
He stopped pacing to point at her. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m being honest. You’re about to break the hearts of an entire fanbase—”
“Your fanbase,” she corrected, raising an eyebrow.
“Exactly!”
Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh. “Charles, I’ve made up my mind. This isn’t about you, or your ‘fanbase,’ or even how I look. It’s about me being able to live my life without constant pain and discomfort.”
He deflated a little at that, sinking back onto the couch. “But what if you regret it?”
“I won’t.”
“But what if you do?” he pressed. “What if one day you wake up and think, ‘Wow, my life was so much better when Charles was worshiping the temple of—’”
She picked up a throw pillow and smacked him in the face with it. He caught it with a grin, but his eyes were still slightly pleading.
“Charles,” she said, softer now. “I appreciate that you love me exactly as I am. But this isn’t about you.”
He sighed dramatically, flopping backward on the couch. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m going to miss them. Like… a lot.”
“Noted,” she said dryly.
“Maybe I’ll throw a farewell party,” he added. “You know, invite some friends over. We’ll say our goodbyes properly.”
Y/N laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me,” he said smugly, pulling her back onto the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Unfortunately.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Y/N got up to grab a glass of water. Charles pulled out his phone and began typing into the search bar: “Can boobs grow back after surgery?”
She glanced back at him from the kitchen, catching the guilty look on his face.
“Charles!”
“What? I’m just… curious!”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, but there was a smile tugging at her lips, drinking the water and setting the glass down on the counter as she walked back over to Charles.
“Hey!” Charles says as y/n snatches the phone out of Charles's hands her own hands cupped his face “It’ll be okay Charles. It’s not the end of the world baby, you know that right?” You ask.
“Of course I know that but I just love them so much,” Charles says, reaching up to cup her breast feeling the weight of them.
“Can I fuck them?” Charles asked out of nowhere.
“Charles!”
“What can’t blame me for asking” he says smiling holding his hands up defensively.
“You know what I don’t see why not”
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moonlbabe2 · 2 years ago
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But the heart wants what it wants
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pricetagged · 2 months ago
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lorica
Dark November nights aren't safe, especially not for women lingering outside pubs. A taxi should get you home, and it would have if you'd remembered to double-check the license plates.
Here is 2.2k drabbly nonsense since I feel bad about my month-long lack of posting. Ghost/Reader/Price (with implied 141/Reader at the end).
Content: Dark, MDNI, kidnapping, threat of violence, guns, body neutral, f-reader, unedited.
_____________________
White whisps danced and swirled in the air before you, your breath given substance in the chill of the night.
You shuffled from foot to foot, cold air and anxiety swirling in a discomforting soup that sunk down to your bones  A glance up and down the street confirmed that yes, your taxi still hadn't arrived. You unlocked your phone once more, foolish in the hope that staring at the screen would make the car appear sooner. The little black icon on the app mocked you. Your driver is 2.6km away!
A sudden cheer split the silence, flooding from the frosted windows of The White Hart. You and your friends had agreed to leave by 8 p.m., hoping to avoid the jeering and jostling of impassioned football fans. A quiet drink after work was one thing; you hadn't, however, planned on lingering to catch up with the Premier League. The noise of rowdy punters and drunk men spilled once more into the street behind you, making your heart race a little. They were just watching a match, just in their cups…
But standing solitary as you were in the dimly lit street it reminded you that you were alone.
A single streetlight buzzed and flickered its dim companionship.
You could see your breath puffing out in front of you, white on black as the night stretched on. Perhaps you should've agreed to the lift that your friends' offered, cursing your politeness. Don't want to inconvenience you! I'm headed in the opposite direction - let me just call a cab. Dark nights weren't often kind to lone women. Winter, too. It left you shivering, trussed up in fleecy fabrics as the wind bit at your numb nose and made your eyes stream. You looked like some soft, gentle thing huddled in a doorstep, hoping to pass the night safely. You panted a little, unease quickening your breath. The misty vapor furled upwards; you imagined it carrying off your hopes. Your desperation. Please, let this car arrive. Let me get home.
A nondescript black car slowed along the curbside, wheels slick and splashing in the stagnant water gathered by the gutters. You caught the tail end of the license plates, mud splattered yes, but you could see some numbers and letters shining through. Finally. You puffed out your relief, tucking your phone away as you reached for the door. Prayer answered, it seemed.
A wave of warm air kissed your cheeks as you slid in, dry and comfortable.
'Hi, how's it going? 2350, right?' You sent a half-glance at the driver, pulling your seatbelt on as you waited for confirmation.
The gears of the belt buckle clicked in the silence. Heavy, noticeable silence.
Turning back towards the front seat, your polite smile wavered slightly. The driver was a big man. Strange that you hadn’t noticed it before, but he was hulking in the seat, shoulders stretching beyond the limits of the side panels. You swallowed slightly as you noticed the headrest barely brushing the nape of his neck.
Two unwavering, dark eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror.
'Uh…' you faltered slightly, perched like bird in the backseat eager to take off, feathers ruffling and twitching. 'This is- you're the car I called? Confirmation number 2350?'
You could feel your face heating -from the chill outside, the AC inside, the mounting embarrassment - skin feeling itchy and tight. Still, you were reluctant to break his gaze. Your instincts sparked, flared to life illuminating only the thought to keep him in your sights. You felt altogether too cramped in the car, his presence spilling across the back seats.
'Yeah, 2350,' his voice rumbled over the hum of the engine. 'Tha's right.'
He made no move, didn't even blink as he stared you down. You could just about make out the arch of blond eyebrows, the craggy lines of a well-worn face but a black barrier mask halted any further consideration. You cracked first, glancing down to his thick, gloved hand resting on the gearstick. The entire dash was dark, no blue light or luminosity from his phone. No digital dials or screens anywhere.
'Aren't you gonna type it in the app? Confirm it from your end?' You hoped he didn’t notice the shake in your voice, unease plucking at your vocal chords weaving nerves into noise.
'Waitin' on yer rideshare, aren't I?'
'I didn't book a rideshare, this is just-' You cut yourself off as your numb, clumsy fingers groped for your phone. 'Let me check, I should've just booked a solo journey-'
'No need, 's'a busy night. Friday. Match on, lots of punters.' His voice was deep, tumbling like gravel from his chest. It was disjointing, actually, with his mouth covered and the lights off. His voice seemed to echo around, filling all the dark curves and corners of the car's interior. Coming from nowhere but this beast of a man with no mouth.
You shook off the thought like waterdrops from your hair. He was just a working man. Big, yes, gruff, but no need to tar him with the sticky, resinous pitch of your paranoia.
'Yer lucky to get a ride,' he continued. 'Car pool's better than standin' out in the street by y'rself. S'not safe.'
You relaxed a little into the seat, tension trickling away. Slightly. It lingered still at the base of your spine, on the back of your neck.
'Right,' you puffed out a breath as you slid your hand from your pocket. 'Do you know how long they'll be? It's just that I've been out since work this morning and I'm looking to get home sharpish.'
He snorted at that, loud and curt, "'e'll be out when he's out. Someone waitin' for ya to get home, or wot?'
'No,' you hesitated, awkwardness cutting you short, 'sorry. Just tired.'
He hummed at that, flicking his eyes around the silent street outside. Murky, orange light cut through the condensation of the pub windows, casting a faint haze on the shutters and bars of the nearby shops. All closed for the night. All empty.
'Wot you doin' out by y'rself anyway?'
Odd. He didn't seem the type for small talk.
'I wasn't out by myself,' you cringed at how pandering it seemed. How you felt you had to justify yourself. 'Was out for drinks with some colleagues and friends.'
He huffed at that, muttering something too low for you to hear. It made you prickle, for sure that it was at your expense. Maybe you should stick in your earphones, stop talking and just treat this like the transaction that it was. You drummed your fingers against the door panel, breath fogging up the window as you stared out aimlessly.
A few beats passed like that, quiet settling uncomfortably in the car like an itchy blanket. You could feel it, wanted to shift away or throw it off or something, but a glance outside at the damp, litter-strewn street kept you still. Better just to endure the discomfort if it got you home.
The snick of the locks disengaging made you jolt, drowsiness dispersing at the sudden shock of cool air from in front.
A man, almost as tall and broad as your driver, settled into the front passenger seat. His eyes, flinty under his stern brow, mapped the length and breadth of your bundled form. His lips twitched under his mustache, amusement or disbelief carved into the burgeoning smile.
'What's this, then? Picked up a stray?'
You bristled a little, scintilla of apprehension raising the hairs on your arms. They shared a look, something warm and familiar passing between them as the idling engine hummed back to life. They sat in front, black-clad and broad shoulder to broad shoulder nearly blocking your entire view of the dash.
'It's your rideshare, in't it?' the driver grunted as he pulled away from the curb.
'Booked a cab, did you sweetheart?' the stranger turned to you, strong face in profile. You could make out fragments - high nose bridge, dark hair, mutton chops obscuring most of his face. The darkness veiled the details, like staring at a painting through gauze. He was the image, the impression of a man, yes, but distant. Unsettling.
'Clearly,' tiredness and nerves made you sharp. Brittle. You sunk further into the seat, clutching your bag on your lap. As if it could act as a barrier. A shield.
A string of tension hummed, taut and quavering. You tried to ignore, watching streetlamps blur together outside, it but it whirred high and distracting. They noticed it too, you thought, shoulders squaring up as muscles tensed and flexed. The stranger huffed through his nose, proud and steady as an ox. You swore that you heard the driver chuckle under his breath, a low hehehe as he indicated right and turned off from the M60.
'Testy one, I see,' he hummed, disapproving. 'Gonna have to fix that attitude.'
The string snapped, you snapped, 'Look, Sir, I'm not trying to be rude, but I don't fancy a chat. I'm just trying to get home.'
You fumbled in your bag for your earphones, hoping to drown out any awkward silences or terse comments.
'Alright, that's enough of that. Simon, pull over.'
You looked up, half in alarm and half at the authoritative tone of his voice. The driver, Simon apparently, swerved into the hard shoulder with a 'roger that'.
The tattoo beat of your heart drowned out your thoughts, heavy thumps rushing past your ears and thrumming down to your fingertips. You scrambled for the doorhandle, scratching clumsily like a mouse.
'What are you doing? Is this some kind of Chuckle Brothers double act because if so, it's not funny,' your words fell like fragile little shards, hoping to cut but shattering in the air. Your pitch rose, 'You want the bag, my things? I'll report you, you shouldn't be fucking working this job.'
Your phone felt heavy in your hand, shaking fingers missing the keypad as you tried to type the password.
The stranger sighed heavily, patronising. Like you were inconveniencing him in some way. You licked you lips and glanced up, ready to run your mouth again as the app loaded.
A steely glint by the central console strangled the words in your throat.
'Didn't want to have to do this sweetheart,' the stranger's lips quirked up in a sad, half-smile. You scanned his face, seeing no note of hesitation. Just cool, steady eyes and that stupid, fake smile. 'Hand that over, nice and easy.'
Neurons fired, trying to make connections or plans. Trying to assess. Here you were, alone in a car with two strange men. You shouldn't hand your phone to them, you could barely feel your fingers anymore, never mind unfurl them from the edges of the case. If you handed over your phone - your lifeline- then what?
If you didn't hand it over, you had the answer to that question from the barrel of the gun pointed your way.
You stared at it, dull silver in the dark. Like a cynosure, it pulled your gaze towards it. A sick facsimile of the North Star, leading you away from safety and further into the den of the wolves ahead.
Your animal instincts screamed, struggled, but lost as you passed your phone into his large, calloused grasp.
'Good girl,' he smiled fully then, round cheeks and bright eyes masking the coldness beneath. 'Don't get fussy now - Simon, the locks - just sit tight and you'll be home in no time.'
You tugged futilely at the handle, useless now that Simon had engaged the child-safety lock.
'I don't live down this way, I- this is not the right way,' you licked your lips again, mouth dry and bitter with the taste of rising bile. You could see, now, that you wouldn't be going home that night. Your next words tasted acrid, tinged with defeat.  'Why are you doing this?'
'Thought ya wanted to come wiv us,' Simon's gravelly voice cut in, amusement warming the pitch into something mocking. 'Why else jump into a strange car?'
'You said you were my taxi, you confirmed-'
'Did I?' you saw his eyebrow quirk, dead predator eyes meeting yours once more through the rear-view mirror. 'Not very good at lookin' after y'rself, are ya?'
Your quick little breaths fogged up the window beside you. It was hard to see, hard to think. But clearly, not thinking had brought you this far. You didn’t think to accept your friends' offer, didn’t think to properly check the license plates, didn't think open the app and check the journey status.
There must have been something of surrender in the tremble of your lips. In the flickering of your wide, glossy eyes. It scented the air, whetting the appetite of the beasts in front of you, swirling around their chops.
'S'alright, love. We'll get ya home. Get ya taken care of.'
Lacrima painted your lash line, salty and hot as it brimmed over and down your cheeks.
You heard a rustle, felt a rough thumb brushing at your tears. The stranger had reached back, large hand nudging your face back up to look at him.
'No more tears, now, c'mon,' he dug his into the corner of your mouth, tugging your lips into a coy, marionette simper. 'Smile, sweetheart. The rest of the boys are dying to meet you.'
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Bit rushed, but hey 🤷‍♀️. This has probs been done before but here's my spin. Apologies for the lack of fics lately! Feel like I'm getting my groove back so should have some actual content out soon.
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russo-woso · 9 months ago
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Dread || Niamh Charles
Summary You and Niamh always dread playing against each other
Red vs Blue.
Rival vs rival.
A London derby.
Arsenal vs Chelsea.
There were loads of nicknames for the match because ultimately, it was one of the most exciting games of the season.
The fans were excited for it, the players were excited for it, but you and a certain Chelsea defender wasn’t.
You dreaded the match, and so did Niamh, if not more.
Niamh was a defender, you were a striker. The thought of Niamh hurting you killed her.
You and Niamh had gone up against each other before, many times, but this time was different.
This was the continental cup final.
Arsenal were determined to keep their hands on the trophy, but Chelsea were just as determined to take it off of them.
When you awoke early on the morning of Easter Sunday, thanks to Niamh pressing soft kisses to your shoulder blade, you couldn’t help but cuddle into her, the dreaded feeling of playing against her sinking into your mind.
After a while of a comfortable silence taking over the room, you pulled away from Niamh, a serious look on your face.
“Promise me that no matter what the score is, we’ll be lying like this tonight.” You said to Niamh whilst a soft smile appeared on her face.
“I promise, love. Remember, Football will always come second when it comes to you.” Niamh told you and you nodded, agreeing with her words.
“You’ll always come first too.” You stated, pressing your lips on hers.
The rest of the morning you had free sped by and before you knew it, you and Niamh’s were going your separate ways.
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“Nervous about playing against Niamh?” Beth asked you, noticing that your leg was bouncing and your hands were fidgeting with whatever you could touch.
“Yeah. A bit.” You responded, sending a weak smile to her.
“Speak of the devil, she’s just messaged me to see how you are. Isn’t that sweet? I remember when you first met. It was love at first sight. And god was my ears chewed off by you going on and on about how you loved Niamh.” Alessia, who was sat next to you, teased you before telling the whole coach the story of how you and Niamh met.
It was true, Alessia had been there when you and Niamh met for the first time.
In fact, she had been the one to introduce you to one another.
You had joined the youth age groups later than everyone else but Alessia had taken you under wing and had introduced you to all her friends, including Niamh.
From then on, Alessia became your best friend, along with Tooney, the three of you becoming an iconic trio.
And you and Niamh grew closer too. Becoming friends and then realising the growing crush on her, before finally, after months of flirting with one another, Niamh asked you on a date.
That was nearly eight years ago and you’re still just in love with Niamh as if you were when you were sixteen.
“Less, stop it.” You told her, nudging her shoulder as she continued to tell embarrassing stories of you when you were teenagers.
“Yeah but I’m right in the middle of when you slipped on the ball when we were in Jordan.” Alessia said as the girls laughed.
“Well at least I didn’t have our coach performing the Heimlich manoeuvre on me because I was chocking on spaghetti. Some Italian you are.” You fired back, a grin taking over your face as Alessia’s face dropped.
“You promised to not tell anyone about that.” Alessia complained, rolling her eyes as Kyra fell to the coach floor laughing. “And I’m half Italian by the way.”
Your mind went foggy as tiredness took over it.
You rested your head on Alessia’s shoulder who immediately cuddled up to you and fell asleep.
It was a normal occurrence to fall asleep on the way to away matches, especially to fall asleep on Alessia.
Alessia and you always sat next to each other on the coaches and with your capability to fall asleep anywhere, it was normally her who had to deal with your snoring.
After two hours of sleeping, you were awoken by Kyra who was excited to play her first final for Arsenal.
Before long, you were walking out of the tunnel to complete a pitch inspection.
Noticing Niamh on the other side of the pitch, you split up from Kyra and Alessia and approaches Niamh.
A smile grew on Niamh’s face as she spotted you, opening her arms as she enveloped you in a hug.
You didn’t say anything, it was just a hug made of pure love for one another.
You broke away from the hug, reaching out to rest a hand on her cheek before pressing a light kiss on her lips.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” Niamh said, your face centimetres away from hers.
“You will. I love you, Niamhy.”
“I love you too, pretty girl.”
And with that, you went your separate ways, you going back to Alessia and Kyra, and Niamh going back to Zecira.
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After an eventful game that went into extra time, the full time whistle blew.
It had been one hell of a match to say the least.
With the score being 0-0 through most of the game, to Frida collapsing on the pitch, to you scoring the winning goal just four minutes before full time.
The whole entire arsenal team gathered round celebrating.
It was as if you were dual natured in that moment.
One half of you wanted to celebrate with all your teammates, but the other half wanted to go and wrap Niamh in a hug.
You opted for both. Spending time with your teammates for a few minutes before going off to find Niamh.
“Niamhy, I’m so sorry.” You began but Niamh turned around with a light smile on her face.
“Don’t say sorry, love. I’m so proud of you.” Niamh opened her arms once again as you found your spot in between them. “You go celebrate. I’ll see you at home later, okay? We can have all the cuddles in the world then. I promise.”
Niamh stuck to her promise.
As you arrived back in London that night, most of the team decided to go out celebrating but you decided to get back home, desperately wanting to see Niamh.
After lots of teasing about you and Niamh, you eventually got away from them all and drive home.
Niamh was already waiting for you in bed, burying your head in her chest as you laid down next to her.
All of the dread had gone.
You were now in your happy place. Your safe space. You were with your Niamh.
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