♡ Football Imagines ♡

Ella (she/her) | 19 | German ❣ I'm in love with too many football players lmao | I write and reblog stuff | Don't be shy, let's be friends | This is a sideblog | Don't flirt with me unless you're James Rodríguez ❣

[f00tball-imagines]

Hellooo, could you post the links to your guidelines and stuff as a reply here? I'm on mobile now and can't access them, sorry for bothering! ☺

Of course! 💗✨

My guidelines: *click here*

My masterlist: *click here*

Upcoming imagines: *click here*

@alltoolewin and my Folklore / Evermore series: *click here*

@football-rambles, @alltoolewin and my Reputation series: *click here*

Swap Sunday (a project with my partner in crime @alltoolewin): *click here*

[f00tball-imagines]

For the next swap sunday please We Were Happy as a continuation of Happiness and Champagne Problems and Don't You as a continuation of Tis The Damn Season 💞💞💞

I already uploaded We Were Happy last week (*click*), @alltoolewin just posted Don't You - but as a sequel to my Mirrorball fic... Oh dear, we hope that's okay! 🥴💗

[alltoolewis]

Don't you- Neymar jr

Last weeks swap sunday, as I'm a week behind✨

This is part 2 to mirrorball written by the incredible @f00tball-imagines (read here) hope you enjoy my angels....

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Weeks pass by and im still stuck in my own head.... everytime I kiss marco, I see his hazel orbs staring at the back of my head, the nights of endless pleasure with ney still ligure my mind like a tattoed kiss. And i should feel guilty, for playing with Marcos feelings... but to tell you the truth I don't!

& the worst part of it all, neymar still cares about me... despite me telling him a week ago that I can't continue are affair, he still checks up on me & not just because he misses his weekly booty call but because he actual loves me... or thats what i Thought.

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Yet again his liquor called eyes burn holes into my pale skin, as his hands wrap around the mystery womans petit hand. I heard from mutual friends that he had finally found a new love after years of 'having noone'... little did they know that he had me.

"One second marco... i just need a minute alone" you whispered into your confused boyfriends ear, eyes quickly catching neymars as you run out of the hall of players and into a near by balcony.

Fingers turning white as you grip onto the old wooden ledge. Mind flooding with with what ifs and buts... pros and cons of all the situations... and you knew you couldn't be angry at him, how could you? You left him? You chose your boyfriend of a year over than the man that has loved you for your lifetime? You had no right to be jealous but still you couldn't help the jealousy to run through your veins.

"(Y/n)" his poor english fills the silence of the balcony, your head whipping round to see the man who had unintentionally broke your heart.

"Go away ney!" You sniffled, as you attempt to stop the tears that were making there way past your cheeks

"I'm just checking if your okay me amore? How you have been?"

Tears of sadness and guilt turn to anger and pain...

"I SAID GO AWAY NEY! YOU DO NOT GET TO ASK ME HOW I'VE BEEN! YOU SAID YOU CARED!" you hissed, getting closer to him as his body tenses. He knows that you have been struggling with the end of your affair but he didn't understand why you were that bothered... you ended it after all.

"(Y/n) are you serious?" His laugh full of sarcasm "i did care about you... i still do! You finished what we had... you chose Marco! So why are you so bothered about me and rosa-"

"Do not say her name! I dont what to hear it okay... no matter how had i try neymar! Your always there.. i cant escape you! I know i shouldn't be jealous but I love you ney! & I know i shouldn't! I know I have Marco and he's great but he's not you-"

Your rant is stopped by his familiar lips, heart melting as you both smiled throughout the kiss. However your once melting heart suddenly stopped as soon as you heard the voice you dreaded to hear.

"(Y/n)".....

[f00tball-imagines]

Clandestine Meetings - James Rodríguez

Player: James Rodríguez

Word count: 1.280

Prompt: “Hello, can the next swap sunday projects be another part of Illciit Affairs (for you) and a sequel to Mirrorball (for Laura)? ✨” (Request by Anon)

A/N: Another Swap Sunday, another angsty James piece! ✨💗 This story is a sequel to @alltoolewin’s Mad Woman-inspired imagine 🥰 If you’re new here, you should read my Illicit Affairs fic first, though! 💖

His name lights up on my phone screen. Which lights up my pitch black bedroom. James pink heartlet-purple heartlet-sparkly heartlet. Because a single red one would have been inappropriate. I know damn well that my name in his phone isn't even a name. Just my first initial. Not even a full stop after it. A lonesome letter. Because apparently, that's much less suspicious. 

James pink heartlet-purple heartlet-sparkly heartlet wants to know whether I'm still awake at this ungodly hour. After not talking to me for two whole weeks. "Yes," I type into the message box. I'm a fucking fool for texting back. I hit send. I hit my head against the wall. I'm in love with a married man who's kicking a ball around for a living. Who possibly can't and won't love anything or anyone that isn't his daughter. I'm a fucking mess. Please, James, get a pair of glasses, another one, a better one. What do you even want from me? I can't drink from a can unless someone's asking the waiter for a straw. I can't ask waiters for straws because I'm goddamn shy. I can't. I just can't. So why can't James find himself someone better?

My phone vibrates twice. Three simple letters. A "W", a "Y" and a "D". And a lonely question mark. I don't know who's teaching him English slang, abbreviations, the cool stuff. I don't even know why he's pretending to be cool. As I said, the man kicks a ball around for a living. That's not cool. That's fucking weird, now that I'm thinking about it. 

"Nothing." What would I be doing at three in the morning? I spend my nights staring at my ceiling unless we're having sex. He knows that. "You?" Did I ask out of common courtesy or do I really want to know what's keeping him awake tonight? 

He replies right away. "I'm in bed, I just can't fall asleep."

"Try drinking some tea. That helps."

He sends me an emoji, the facepalming one. I have to laugh, I really cannot help it, but I do find it hilarious when grown-ass men unironically use anything more than just a normal smiley or the occasional thumbs up. James pink heartlet-purple heartlet-sparkly heartlet ups the ante then. "You're a pain in the ass, princesa."

"You're a pain in-" I stop in my tracks. In my fucking vagina. I delete what I've written so far, just to type it out again. "You're a pain in general, Jamesito." I find myself giggling into the darkness. "My aches are developing aches because of you." I add the one emoji with the bandaged head, then I hit send.

"Want me to kiss it better?" It should've been "you're a pain in my vagina". Definitely. 

"James, you're being silly. It's half past three. Go to sleep."

"Told you I'm fucking restless. Talk to me." Pouty puppy-eyed emoji. Dude, please!

I sigh, putting the phone down for a second. Yeah, sure. All of a sudden, I'm interesting again. Because there isn't anything else to entertain him. Of course. I should've known. "What about?" My text immediately is marked as read, homeboy isn't even closing our chat in-between messages it seems. I should be flattered, but instead, I just feel like there's something weird about this. Like, why don't you talk to your wife? Why aren't you on video call with your daughter? It's barely nine in Medellín, I know that. Of course I know that, I've pinned Colombia's local time to my home screen. 

"Can I call you?"

You have a fucking phone in your hand. You certainly can. "No. Come over." I hate myself for putting myself through that. I hope he's got somewhere to be in the morning. I can't help but wish for him to turn me down.

"Now?"

Now... Now it's my turn to send him a facepalming emoji. No. Next Christmas, dummy.

"Okay," he replies after a split second. Okay, I'm coming over? Okay, cool, a stupid little emoji? Okay, fuck off? Okay what? Another second passes. Buzz buzz. "I'll be there in ten."

"Drive safe," my fingers type out. Crash that fucking car. After running me over, of course. End our misery. Please and thank you. I roll out of bed to put on some pants. He can deal with my washed out tee, he's seen worse. My naked body, for example. I stumble into the bathroom to pile on mascara, to take the fluffy, pink scrunchie out of my hair, to wash the thin film of cold sweat off my forehead. I don't know nervousness when it comes to him. There's just... anxiety. Every time we have one of our little fall-outs, my amount of working braincells gets reduced by two.

I sit down on the toilet lid to catch my breath. I'm gonna get dicked down and then discarded. It's okay, I'm used to it. I'm a one-trick-pony. But I'm just so good at that one trick that James keeps on crawling back to me. The pinkish polish on my nails is starting to chip, so I decide to adorn my fingers with a few rings to distract from that. They look cheap, they were cheap, but I consider them cute, so it's alright. 

I don't like texting after my autocorrect has dubbed him Hummus not once, not twice, but several times. He doesn't like calling as his stutter tends to get worse on the phone. So this is nice. The real thing is always nice. "I missed you," he rasps with his arms still wrapped around my torso. "I missed you, too," I whisper back. Lies. I spent a long, long time cursing his name, relatively sure that I would never be moaning it again, that we were over and done. "I still haven't said Happy New Year," he states the obvious. We haven't spoken since Christmas. "No," I confirm, shaking my head. It was the worst New Year's Eve of my life. I've seen the pictures Daniela had posted on her Instagram. At least James has had a great time, apparently. 

"Sorry. I thought I should leave you alone." Yes. Because that's the easy way out. "But... Happy New Year. I guess."

"Thanks. To you, too." It truly feels like New Year's. Waiting for the big something, just to end up disappointed because the big something turns out to be some underwhelming bullshit. "Better late than never." There's still snow on the streets, so it's alright, I guess.

"Yes."

"You're fucking annoying, James."

"Oh. Why?" And fucking stupid as well.

"Did you really come over to stand around in my hallway and wish me a Happy New Year? What are you? A caroler?"

"You told me to come."

"I'm not used to you doing as you're told." I force a laugh. I'm not used to niceties and such. I'm used to... the bad stuff.

He just shrugs. He's so unbelievably apathetic, I hate it! "You have the place to yourself tonight?"

"No. You're here with me." I know quite well that he was referring to my roommate. Who, in fact, is staying with her boyfriend for the weekend. I know quite well that he only asked because he is the furthest thing from an exhibitionist I could imagine. 

"Ah. Yes. True." So damn stupid! I wish I could get up and leave. But I'm already standing and there's no way to escape my own apartment. "Well?" I ask in an awful attempt to make conversation. Well, he's gonna fuck me. He's gonna break my heart once again and I'm gonna like that. We've been there before. And we're gonna be there time and time again.

[f00tball-imagines]

We Were Happy - James Rodríguez

Player: James Rodríguez

Word count: 349

Prompt: “For the next swap sunday please We Were Happy as a continuation of Happiness and Champagne Problems and Don't You as a continuation of Tis The Damn Season 💞💞💞” (Request by Anon)

A/N: It’s Swap Sunday again, hooray! 🤠💗 This story was inspired by We Were Happy by Taylor Swift and is a sequel to Happiness, probably one of my favourite pieces that my love @alltoolewin has written! 🥺✨ (Happiness is a sequel to my Champagne Problems-inspired imagine, so you probably should read that one first if you’re new here! 🥰)

I might have hurt him. But he hurt me too, so it was okay. It’s been weeks of back and forth, weeks of living in denial and drowning in regrets, weeks of living life on autopilot. That voice in my head that keeps on telling me that James was the one who fucked up, the voice that keeps on making him a villain, was the first to realize that I’m not in love anymore. Oh, it’s been weeks of not missing him, but missing the memories. I know that by now.

I’ve stopped talking about what happened that night after Colombia’s loss against Germany. Recently, social media has finally shut up about the disaster that was supposed to be a proposal as well. I like to believe I’m over it, but sometimes... Sometimes, it just hits me how fucking happy we were. I remember evenings in Barranquilla, the way the sun was pouring its light into the water, I’ve always been scared that I would have to witness the sinking of a ship or something equally traumatizing. No idea why. We were happy. The good was just so... good. But in hindsight, it couldn’t always overshadow the bad. It starts making sense. Maybe I did have a reason to say “no” to him. 

I remember sneaking into the most random sporting events with him. “What kind of circus is that?” I had giggled as we were watching a bunch of pre-teens chasing after a football like dogs after a rabbit. He just threw his head back and his arms around my neck, laughing as if he were a little kid himself, and shrugged. “Don’t know. But I don’t care. Because you’re here with me.” Memories like icicles. Ouch.

Actually, things have been so good that I should’ve known. Everything was perfect. Of course he was going to propose sooner or later! James is one smart cookie - and not putting a ring on it would’ve been stupid. So maybe I’m the dumb fool for upsetting his plans, for ruining a good thing, for throwing away seven years of happiness... 

[f00tball-imagines]

Do you ship @alltoolewin with a footballer? 😇

I obviously ship her with her hubby Mason 🤠💗

But Laura x breadstick is my OTP, of course 🤡

[f00tball-imagines]

Anything your working on atm? :)

Yep, I'm currently working on Cowboy Like Me with Kylian and Dancing With Our Hands Tied with James ✨

Thanks for being patient with me, everyone! 🤡💗

[f00tball-imagines]

Ella I had a dream that you announced your marriage with James but then you were caught cheating on him with Falcao by some papparazzi, it was SO WEIRD omg 🥴😥

Oh dear, what a mess... 🤡😂

[f00tball-imagines]

Ngl it feels illegal to be able to read your stuff for free haha

Aww, you're too kind! Thank you! 💗✨

[f00tball-imagines]

Ur bio says "Don't flirt with me unless you're James Rodriguez" buttt what if Ima breadstick??

Oh well, I would make an exception for you, I guess 🤡 Breadsticks are always welcome! 🥖✨

What's up with the breadstick asks tho? Send help, @alltoolewin 🤠

[f00tball-imagines]

Sorry if this is creepy but Ive read some post about you getting tattooed, how many do you have? :)

No worries, you're not being creepy at all! ✨

I have six tattoos at the moment, I'm hopefully getting my next one real soon! 🥰

[f00tball-imagines]

Hiii Ella, I have a request for swap sunday: Part 2 of Champagne Problems and Part 2 of Cardigan! Have a nice day 💋💓

Posted! 💗✨

We hope you enjoy our stories! 🥰

[alltoolewis]

Then draw a picture of her?🤣🤣🤣

This count as a face reveal @f00tball-imagines 🤔🤔🤠

[f00tball-imagines]

Rare footage of me watching Everton play 🤠✨

[alltoolewis]

Happiness- james Rodriguez

Week 2 of swap sunday with my bubba @f00tball-imagines ✨

This week i wrote part 2 to her amazing champagne problems piece! Please check hers out here!

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I can't make it go away by making you a villain

You knew you were stupid to think that after you said no that he would fight for you! That he would chase after you find you, hold you, tell you everything okay and that he understands. When in reality you were sat here under an old oak tree, leaves falling round you as you process everything that happened in the past week. Saying no to the 'love of your life', leaving him kneeling there in front of all your loved ones without an explanation why. You tried to come up with excuses everytime someone brought it up! It didnt feel right.... i was shocked.... it was too public.... he's too clingy... it would fall apart like his last relationships...

Some of your friends even agreeing with you.. that it was james fault. But in reality... it wasn't. He was innocent, he was in love, he thought he found his forever.... he wasnt the villian... you were!

I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven

As memories flooded your mind, leaves started to fall rapidly off the tree. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..... seven. A number that ment so much to you and james. The number of the month you got together... the number of the day where you had your first kiss... the last digit of your first house together... and most importantly the amount of years you were together! 7 years! 7 years of happiness, memories, transfers, hoildays, house hunting... all for you to say no!

People told you your relationship was too good to be true! That no relationship is that perfect, but for reason you let it all go.

Is it what you deserved for thinking it was perfect. After all perfects not a thing!

And I pulled your body into mine

Every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties

& although you didn't think you would... you missed him. Missed his morning kisses or quick training texts, missed him coming home on his own to spend the night cuddling on the couch or bringing all the boys home for a game of uno. Missed the night time cuddles, they eay your head fell perfectly into his neck, the way his arms felt like home, your body fitting like a jigsaw piece. However now your jigsaw had a piece missing, you didn't have a familiar set of arms to fall into after a hard day of work & it was all your fault.

No one teaches you what to do

When a good man hurts you

And you know you hurt him too

The sound of his families gasp haunt your sleep.... at the time you were thankful that his mother wasnt there to witness it, having a special bond with her since day one! However as suspected james told her... of course he did! He had too!

& although leaving james hurt, nothing hurt more than listening to his mum sobbing down the phone, repeating the same words "why" "how"

And like everyone else... you couldn't give her a reason.

You knew james was hurting & you wanted nothing more than to go rpund and tell him how much you care about him. However that all changed after your friends told you everything he was saying about you... how he knew you'd leave him.... that you only left because his career wasnt doing as well as past years... his salary was the only thing you loved.

You might of hurt him.... but he hurt you too.

[f00tball-imagines]

Excuse me while I go cry in a corner 😭🤡

[alltoolewis]

I have a pen

I have an apple

HMMMMM

Marcello Breadstick

This ladies and gentlemen is what me and ella send eachother...... hence why Marcelo is a breadstick! 🤠

[f00tball-imagines]

My name is Hummus, up the breadsticks! 🤠🥖

[f00tball-imagines]

Coney Island - Ben Chilwell

Player: Ben Chilwell

Word count: 243

Prompt: “Hiii Ella, I have a request for swap sunday: Part 2 of Champagne Problems and Part 2 of Cardigan! Have a nice day 💋💓” (Request by Anon)

A/N: Please enjoy my contribution to this week’s Swap Sunday, a project with my love @alltoolewin! 🤠💗 This story is a sequel to Laura’s Cardigan-inspired imagine and is based on Coney Island by Taylor Swift ft. The National ✨🥰

He once could make hell feel just like home. But now that he's gone, the lack of him makes Coney Island feel like a ghetto. He broke my soul in two when I was merely eighteen, now, at twenty-three, it’s still in bits and pieces. Five years later, I’m sitting on a bench in Coney Island, still wondering, “Where did my baby go?”

It was supposed to be a light-hearted little trip, one that my best friend had organized after seeing me in ruins once again. Once again, my misery was Ben’s fault. But right now, I shouldn’t be this miserable. I was doing good, I felt like I was getting too old to care. But then he showed up at my doorstep. I had expected him to come back sooner or later, he’s never been good at surprises. 

I watch the merry go rounds, the surburban mums with their kids with their cotton candy, the big ferris wheel in the distance. I think of happier times. Of Ben standing in my hallway. With a big cake. Singing Happy Birthday to me. I think of bright lights, of the time he took me to the local arcade, the way he never won me a trinket. Disappointments. That’s what he’s good at. I’ve known that all along. But, still, here I am. Sitting on a bench in Coney Island, watching the sun go down, disappointed but not surprised, wondering, “Where did my baby go?”

[f00tball-imagines]

My name is James, up the toffees ✊✊✊