Pope Heyward Is Such A Clich 80s Movie Boyfriend Who Leaves Notes In Your Locker And Climbs Through Ur

pope heyward is such a cliché 80s movie boyfriend who leaves notes in your locker and climbs through ur window. pope heyward is the type of boyfriend to take off your makeup and do your skincare routine for you when you’re hangover. pope is a waist grabber before pulling you in for a kiss xx

your name on me / kepa arrizabalaga

warnings: smut, praise kink, secret relationship, pet names (little one, princess, pretty boy), idk if i forgot something 🧐

author's note: let's pretend it's the armband !!!! i don't know if i like it or not yet but i wanted to post something for saturday's win!!!

pairing: potter!daughter x kepa arrizabalaga

wc: 1.6k words

the cheers around you are deafening, but this is exactly where you want to be: on the box, at stamford bridge, just after the whistle ends and the match is won by the blue team. it feels good to be on the winning side again, and even more so, after the last couple of matches that were certainly rough, not only on the overall team and players, but on your father, too. it hadn't been long since he had come in charge of chelsea, and things were not going brilliantly before, but now, the entire directorial table was in the eye of the storm, including your dad, and both the fans and the team were expecting positive results. quickly.

that's why the normal sweet taste of victory felt even more sweet today. the rush it usually brought now amplified by a thousand after not tasting it for so long, which was almost enough to single handedly drive you towards the locker rooms, looking for one person only. and certainly, not your dad.

"you did good today, kepa," you congratulate him when you catch the man alone in the room, just as you expected. it's not the first time you encounter the goalkeeper in this situation, or in this place, but it's the first time you're the one to initiate contact after a couple of weeks without talking or touching. kepa would be lying if he said he hadn't waited for a bit longer than he needed, even after his teammates had left, hoping and praying you came to find him here, after the match he just played: a clean sheet and the armband enough to keep his beautiful smile on his face ever since the whistle blew, signaling the end of the game.

"you think so, little one?" he said through a devilish smirk. the seemingly sweet, affectionate words from one friend to another coming from his mouth having a whole different meaning to you, and lighting the sinful flame in your eyes. kepa was coming close to you with every step he took in your direction, almost like a hunter closing onto his prey, and effectively cornering you against the lockers. his big frame was towering over yours, the chelsea shirt you wore engulfing your figure and making you seem smaller than you were.

"you were captain for a reason," you shrugged, trying to maintain his gaze. you two were accustomed to this, it wasn't new by any means: ever since your dad arrived at the club, and with that, your presence became a constant in every match or practice the team had, the goalkeeper had developed a special type of fondness for you. one that could only be satisfied when you were under him.

"i think i deserve some special treatment, don't you think so, princesa?" he called, palm softly caressing your cheek. you leaned over his touch, almost forgetting where you were and how difficult it would be to explain why chelsea's goalkeeper was touching the manager's daughter in such a loving gesture. thankfully, the cold metal from the locker door against your hot skin reminded you of your whereabouts. "stop," you muttered, suddenly too aware of your surroundings. "my dad could come in at any moment," you reminded, but it didn't seem to faze him.

"you're sure you want me to stop?" he taunts, fingertips running down your abdomen until he reaches your core against your leggings. your body betrays you when your hips buck into his hand, and he smiles mischievously at your involuntary reaction. "no lo creo, princesa" (i don't think so, princess), he whispers, sending chills all over your body with a simple sentence.

kepa kisses you feverishly, like he had been deprived of it for way too long. his grips against your hips is hard, not letting you move an inch away from him and where he wants you to stay, and you know that by tomorrow his thumbs will be imprinted bruises on your skin. he starts directing your body, almost blindly, towards the showers, a place a bit more private where you can actually hide if someone came into the changing rooms. once there, he can do as he pleases, and begins placing wet kisses on your neck, tilting your head back a little with a gentle tug of your hair.

it's not the first time that you're in this situation, and that's why he knows exactly what you need, what your body craves. still, you get the chance to voice your pleas. "kepa, fuck, do something," you whisper at him, your hips bucking against his hand again, looking for some kind of friction. he complies, like he always does, because he doesn't know how to say no to you. his warm hands reach instead to the elastic of your leggings and he pulls, almost ripping them out of you, along with your shirt.

you're almost completely naked while he remains entirely clothed on the team's uniform, so you yank his jersey, desperate for him to take it off. kepa obeys, crossing his arms and lifting his shirt from the back, exposing his chiseled abdominals first. in the middle of it a thought occurs, and his eyes suddenly turn black. "put it on," he demands, and you do what he says, sliding into the shirt with the grass stains and his last name on the back.

he takes the rest of his clothes in a rush, partly because he knows there's not too much time, but mostly because the sight of you wearing his shirt fuels him an indescriptible amount, and it drives him insane. kepa bites at your exposed collarbone to try and keep the grunts at bay while his hands wander all over your figure, and you moan in surprise. you have to remind yourself to keep quiet, as his stern gaze advises too, and you turn to bite your lips instead, almost drawing blood, before emitting another sound.

"tell me that i did good. in spanish," he demands, voice rough against your ear once he has bottomed out inside you. it takes you a moment to comply, but when you do, he starts moving again. "lo hiciste bien," (you did good) you get to say over your ragged breath, and he starts quickening his pace. "lo estás, fuck, lo estás haciendo bien ahora, pretty boy" (you're doing good now). kepa groans at hearing your seductive tone, and as you let out breathy moans against his ear he readjustes your body, lifting one of your legs up, and allowing him to thrust deeper into you. you look hungrily for his lips again, trying to stop the noises from coming out in response to his fastening thrusts.

you know you're about to tip off the abyss, and he knows your body so well to be aware of it too, so he inserts two of his fingers into his mouth to wet them before drawing small circles against your clit. the action is what finally pushes you towards the edge, and you tremble under his touch until you're spent. kepa pulls out, giving himself a couple of firm strokes before actually emptying his load down the drain.

your eyes are closed, holding on to him for dear life as you try to even out your breath before dressing up again and put on the act again: pretend he's only your dad's player, nothing more. but his hands cover your mouth before you can say a word, and your confused stare is meet with his panicked one. he tilts his head, pointing to the door that's far from where you two are currently, but not enough to remain hidden if someone dared to search the entire place. kepa thinks it's just the cleaning staff, but the voice that's heard begs to differ. "is someone here?" potter asks into the void. he signals for you to stay quiet, while he slips back into his boxers and shorts before going to keep your father from finding you here.

"sorry, sir, didn't know you were still here," kepa greeted your dad, who had just come into the locker room. his hair remained disheveled thanks to the tugging and pulling you had worked on minutes before, and his torso was bare. you wished that he would stay facing him just so that your father couldn't see the bright red scratches that kepa had on his back. "well, i could say the same about you!", he cheerily said. "why's my captain still in the locker rooms, and not out there celebrating? and where's your shirt?".

his eyes widened for a moment, and nothing else came into mind, so he resolved to the truth. at least, part of it. "o-oh, i gave it to my girlfriend. i had come here to change and head out", he explains. it's not far from the truth, except for the little detail that slipped from his lips: you're not his girlfriend.

that's actually what he hates most about this situationship in which you two were in: not being capable of calling you his. your encounters are always hidden, behind closed doors, and he can't wait until you give him the green light to ask you to be together. officially. for now, though, he has to accept what you're willing to give him: whispered moans, longing stares and lustful touches.

"well, good for you, arrizabalaga!," potter brings him back to reality, palming his shoulder affectionately before deciding to head out. except, he comes back to ask one last thing. "don't you happen to know where my daughter went? been looking for her for the past 30 minutes".

"sorry, sir, i have no idea".

take the pain away - mason mount

summary: Y/N gets hurt, and Mason is immediately at her side, doing anything he can to take the pain away

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 3.1k

warning/tags: hurt/comfort, mentions of an injury, sickeningly sweet, tooth-rotting fluff, established relationships, also I wrote this in an airport and it all feels like a fever dream, so tbh I have no idea what any of this says... enjoy!

requested: yes!!

notes: here is another request! so sorry it took so long to get out - nursing school has been kicking my butt these last couple of weeks. thank you so so much for requesting! (and I'm already working on your other one :) )

It was a beautiful day at Cobham as you stood pitch-side, a rare warm March day in London. Your camera was raised to your face as you watched the Chelsea boys practice through its lens, snapping a few photos. Due to the nicer weather, both the men’s team and the Academy players were outside training in the afternoon, and you had jumped at the opportunity to get a few photos that could be used later on Chelsea’s Instagram.

These were your favorite days, when you got to spend time around the teams, watching them interact and doing your best to capture the chemistry between them with your camera. It surely beat the alternative: spending the day indoors, in a corner office, your time consumed by editing photos and sending various emails.

Plus, you would never turn down getting to watch your athletic boyfriend work his magic.

You panned your camera to the left, catching a few of the boys standing in line to wait their turn for a shooting drill that Potter was having them run. Your lens found Mason standing in the back of the line, and your heart fluttered as he looked straight at you, pulling a silly face to try to make you laugh.

You dropped the camera from your face, giggling slightly as you pressed a couple buttons to look at the pictures you had taken. Maybe you would keep those for yourself.

You looked back up at him, shaking your head slightly at his antics. Mason, with a satisfied grin on his face at succeeding to make you laugh, turned back to the line of boys in front of him, bouncing on his toes to prepare to run the drill.

After a few more minutes, Potter divided the boys into three groups, running a new drill with only a couple of the groups at a time. This left one of the groups to take a short rest, and Ben and Kai approached you, after grabbing their water bottles, to greet you.

One of the things that you loved about both working for Chelsea and dating Mason was that you had developed a close friendship with many of the players, having been able to hang out with them outside of work more and more as time went on.

Ben greeted you with a short pat on the back, refraining from hugging you so he didn’t get his sweat on you (which you greatly appreciated). Kai placed his hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair as he laughed mischievously. You scowled at him playfully, attempting to fix your hair as they began asking how you had been recently. You quickly got lost in conversation with them, raising the camera to your face intermittently to get a few photos of the boys still on the pitch.

Behind you, the Academy boys were practicing, running a scrimmage before they concluded for the afternoon. With your back to the group, you hadn’t seen the Academy player dropping to the ground in a slide in order to keep the ball in-bounds. You hadn’t seen the way that he misjudged his speed, sliding far beyond the ball and the sideline of the pitch, right toward where you were standing.

Ben and Kai saw it, though, as if it was happening in slow motion, but still too quickly for them to do anything about it. The only warning you had was a split second where the their eyes both went wide, reaching their arms up to try to pull you out of harm’s way. They tried to shout a warning to you, but it was too late.

The young boy slid into your ankles and you heard a sickening crunch as he knocked you to the grass.

Mason’s head whipped around quickly as he heard you cry out, a chill rushing down his spine as he immediately recognized it as your voice. He saw you on the ground, along with the Academy player as Ben and Kai rushed to your side.

You were confused—disoriented to say the least. Your back had hit the ground abruptly, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you gasping for air. You saw the boy getting up to his knees next to you, rushing out some apology you couldn’t focus on. You saw Ben drop to his knees at your side, and it felt like your head was spinning. You tried desperately to regain your breath, draping your arms over your face as you lay on the ground.

It was then that the brief rush of adrenaline wore off, and the pain set in quickly. A shooting pain tore through your right ankle, causing you to cry out again. In the frenzy of the whole thing, you could hear people trying to speak to you, but they seemed distant, and you couldn’t make out anything that they were saying. You grit your teeth, hating that there were so many people here to see your vulnerable state.

A pair of hands on your sides grounded you back to reality, and you moved your arm, squinting against the sunlight to see that Mason was at your side, kneeling next to your face. His eyes were wide with concern, and his voice started to pierce through the ringing in your ears.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

You tried desperately to blink back the tears you could feel springing to your eyes. In most any circumstance you refused to let anyone see you cry, determined to maintain a tough exterior, but the throbbing in your ankle proved to be more than you could handle.

The Academy player that had tackled you was now on his feet, still desperately trying to apologize for his actions. Mason turned and shoved him away from you, shouting something about backing away from you. You saw Reece grab the boy by the shoulders and talking quietly to him, no doubt trying to defuse the situation while also reversing any damage done by Mason’s shouting. He was, after all, just a kid, and he hadn’t intended to hurt anyone.

“Mase, please.” You grabbed a fistful of his training shirt, bringing his attention away from the young player and back to you. He looked back at you, his eyes softening as he heard you whimpering in pain. He helped you sit up halfway, pulling you into his chest. You buried your face in his neck so that no one could see the tears that slid down your cheeks, still holding his shirt tightly in your fist.

Mason slowly stroked his fingers up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you as Ben explained what had happened. Your leg was still throbbing, leaving you unable to focus on anything that was happening around you. Mason pressed a kiss to the top of your head, whispering soothing words in your ear. He desperately wanted to take the pain away from you, but he didn’t know how.

You felt Mason’s muscles tense up, as he suddenly felt that there were too many people crowding around you. “Everyone back up!” he shouted, startling you. “Back up! Give her some space!”

Several people took a couple steps back at his sudden outburst, but Kai rested a hand on Mason’s shoulder to calm him. “They’re the physios, mate. They’re trying to help.”

When Mason lifted his eyes, getting a better look at the two individuals who were now coming to your side, he realized that Kai was right, recognizing the physios from times that he had spent in recovery after being injured.

One of the physios, a middle-aged woman with a reassuring, gentle look in her eyes, told you she was going to take your shoe off and waited for your short nod before she began undoing the laces.

Mason’s heart clenched in his chest when you gazed up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He did his best to give you a comforting smile, despite the sickening feeling in his gut at seeing you in so much pain.

The physio did her best to removed your shoe without causing you any more pain, but the slight movement of your foot still caused you to whimper out in pain. You grasped Mason’s bicep, and he hissed slightly as your nails dug painfully into his arm, but he didn’t dare to let on that you had hurt him.

When your sock and shoe were both removed, Mason could see that your ankle had already become swollen, beginning to flush a deep shade of purple.

“We’ll need to bring her up to the facility and wrap this,” the physio spoke, more to Mason than to you. She placed a hand gently on your knee, trying to bring your attention to her. “Do you think you can try to walk on it? I don’t think it’s broken.”

You nodded, trying your best to be tough. You let go of Mason’s arms, and he untangled his arms from around you, moving to stand in front of where you were sitting. You took his hands, letting him pull you to your feet as you kept all of your weight on your left leg. The breeze chilled the thin layer of sweat that had formed on your neck.

Mason still held tightly to your arms, standing in front of you and intensely watching your eyes as you tried to settled your foot to the ground, putting some weight on it. Your face contorted in pain immediately as a shooting pain radiated from your ankle up your leg, and your knee gave out. Mason was quick to catch you before you fell. You shook your head vigorously, letting out a quite “I can’t”.

Mason swept you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he followed behind the physios and walking as gently as he could so he didn’t cause you any unnecessary pain. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you instinctively buried your face in his shoulder again, finding comfort there.

When you finally made it into the training facility, Mason followed the physios into the treatment room, setting you down on a cushioned table so they could wrap your foot. You noticed then that Ben had followed you all inside, carrying your shoe and camera, which had, remarkably, remained unharmed in the clash. You smiled at him in thanks, and he walked over to you on the side that Mason wasn’t standing to give you a short hug and a kiss on top of your head before he went back out to rejoin training.

The whole ordeal had drained you of any energy, and you let out a sigh as you dropped your head onto Mason’s shoulder. The pain had faded slightly, into a dull throbbing, and his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back was helping to calm you.

“You doing okay?” he whispered, checking in. Your eyes slipped shut and you nodded into his neck, too tired to say anything in reply.

The physios looked over your ankle, deciding it wasn’t a break, but rather a very bad sprain. They gave you some pain medication, put your foot in a boot, and instructed you to take it easy for a couple of days before you returned to your normal routine.

Mason took you home, waiting hand and foot on you for the rest of the day. He even took the next day off of training to look after you, despite your insistence that he didn’t need to. Though the pain had been miserable, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the extra attention that Mason gave you as a result of your injury. He was already a very touchy and affectionate person, but it had been dialed up to 10 ever since that day at Cobham.

That Friday, several days after your injury, Kai and Sophia were hosting a game night at their place. The boys didn’t have a game that weekend, and they wanted to use it as an opportunity to get together and just spend a chill night hanging out.

After reassuring Mason numerous times that you were still up for going, the two of you walked into the house, you wobbling slightly as you were still getting used to walking in the boot. The room erupted with noise as everyone shouted greetings as you entered. Several of the boys came over, patting you on the back or pulling you into a hug, saying how they had missed seeing you at Cobham since your injury. Your heart swelled with affection as you returned their hugs. Sophia came over, pulling you to the couch so that the two could catch up while the boys were talking to Mason.

The night went on, and you learned several new card games and board games. Being with everyone did wonders to lift your mood after a fairly dull week following your injury. Mason was still attentive, constantly touching you in some way at all times, whether than was an innocent hand on your thigh, or an arm wrapping securely around your shoulders and placing a kiss to your forehead every couple of minutes. But you could tell that he was glad to be out with his group of friends.

The rest of the group didn’t miss the extra protective air surrounding Mason as he kept an eye out for you the whole night. It was endearing to see how much he cared about you and the comfort that seemed to wash over him at being able to have you around with the rest of the team again. None of them had ever seen Mason be this way with any other girl—you all definitely had something special. But although they were happy for him, it didn’t stop the boys from poking fun at him periodically for it anyway.

The evening continued, and you began to grow more tired, but you refused to say anything to Mason because you truly didn’t want to leave.

Sophia brought out a new game as the time passed 11 pm, and the game night was showing no signs of slowing down. You opted to sit this game out, waving it off when Ben asked if you were alright.

Despite your best efforts to hide your exhaustion, Mason still noticed, ever the attentive boyfriend. He leaned back on the couch, wrapping his arm gently around your shoulders as Kai and Sophia set the game up on the table in front of you. You sighed in content, resting your head on his shoulder.

You closed your eyes as Mason pressed a kiss to your forehead and mumbled a short, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you nodded, turning so you could look him in the eye.

“Are you sure? Do you want to go home?” you could still see the concern in his eyes as he searched your face.

“No, no, I’m okay, really,” you smiling to try and reassure him. “I promise.”

Mason searched your face for a moment more, seeming to finally accept your answer as you laid your head back on his chest. He turned and continued talking with Ben, and as you looked back toward the table, Sophia held your gaze with a knowing look. She grinned at you, and you felt the blush rushing into your cheeks. You hid your face in Mason’s chest and suppressed a giggle.

Despite having been in a relationship with Mason for several months, he never ceased to make you giggly and giddy with his affectionate gestures. Sophia was always the first one to tease you about how flustered he made you.

The game night resumed as soon as everyone understood the rules, and you untucked yourself from Mason’s side so he could lean forward to play the game. You sat quietly, content to watch as everyone else played and joked with one another. But the longer you watched, the more your eyes began to droop. Like there was a magnet pulling you, you felt drawn toward Mason as you began to slump over from exhaustion, and you laid your head on his shoulder blade. Without turning from the game, he reached behind him, pulling your arms so that they were wrapped around his waist.

You held to him tightly, soothed by his breathing and the sound of his soft laughter every now and then. Mason kept one hand on your arms, where they met in his lap, stroking his thumb softly over the back of one of your hands.

After several minutes of silence from you, he grew suspicious of the fact that he hadn’t felt you move in a while – not even a slight shift.

“You doing okay back there, Y/N?” he asked softly.

He was met with no answer. He furrowed his brow, turning his head to look at you, but he couldn’t move far enough to see your face without shifting you.

“Y/N?” he repeated.

“I think she’s asleep, mate,” Ben commented, sitting on your other side, where he had a clear view of your face. Your cheek was slightly squished from where it was pressed against Mason’s shoulders, lips parted as the muscles in your face relaxed completely.

Mason couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his face as he unwrapped your arms from his waist, pulling your legs so that they draped across his lap and he could hold you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head as you stirred before settling into his side.

“You lovebirds can’t keep your hands off of each other, can you?” Kai teased, grinning at the smitten look on his friend’s face.

“Oh, give it a couple years,” Ben chuckled from the other side of the couch, jumping at the opportunity to get under Mason’s skin. “They’ll be sick of each other soon enough.”

Some of the guys laughed at his remark, knowing he didn’t mean it at all. Mason just kept looking down at you as you laid on his chest, a loving look in his eyes.

“Nah, a couple years from now, I’m gonna marry her,” he replied matter-of-factly, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. The rest of the group smiled, silently coming to the decision to let you all be and continue playing their game.

With your face tucked into Mason’s chest, he couldn’t see the smile that curled your lips as you heard his words just before you fell back to sleep.

MOMENTS WITH MASON THAT ALTERED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY

mason mount x reader

saw @blubffsd do this concept and wanted to do it with mason 🫶🏼

-

heyyyyyyyyy

could I get a mason x fem footballer reader where the reader has a really bad injury that worries everyone especially mason bc there dating (or mason is in looooveeee, and so is the reader) I don’t want to be specific but like yk (you might not) when Azpilicueta got really injured by a player in the match today (chelsea v Southampton)

this would be very 👌🏼 and I just love your writing so much 🤭🤭🫶🏼🫶🏼

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

masterlist

can we talk about how tf the southampton player didn’t get a red ??? and i’m sorry but potter out👀

warnings: MAJOR INJURIES!! like azpi’s😞😞 hope he gets well soon xxxx fluff and angst and this is really short!! sorry!!!

don’t steal any of my work, thank you!

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 it happened or how it happened, but the sharp stab of multiple studs hitting the back of your head at full force would make that information ironically knock right out of your mind.

Mason watched it all happen at once, further away from the scene in case of a counter attack. He watched the opponents swing the ball in from the corner, no where near a teammate until Chilly cleared it to just around your head height.

Your back was to the ball, unaware of your surroundings. The player, I guess, thought it would be a grand idea to try and volley the ball into the back of the net; completely disregarding his surroundings and how close your head would end up to his studs.

His right foot swung up and made harsh contact with your head, studs scratching the back of your skull and pulling on your hair. Mason watched you fall forwards instantly, landing on Kepa as his gloved hands came out and caught you, his face paler than a ghost.

Mason didn’t even wait to hear the referee’s whistle to signal a foul before he found himself legging it towards you, his girlfriend on the bring of unconscious and limp body dropping closer to the grassed floor.

The brunette pushed everyone out the way, including his own teammates to get to you. Ben pushing Mason closer to you and shoved a few opponents out the way, ignoring their protests and begs for an overturned red card.

Mason knelt down to your body, Kepa was shaking and refused to let his hand off the back of your head. “What happened, Mason? I turned around and she just fucking collapsed!” The spaniard rushed out, his voice wavering at his friends lack of movement.

“Some fucking prick lodged his studs into the back of her head!” He brushed the hair out of your face, eyes closed and cold. Azpi called the medicals over immediately watching Mason’s breathing quicken the more you showed lack of communication. Kepa removing his gloved hand off the back of your head, seeing some blood stains painting the palm of where he assumed the studs had landed.

Mason blinked looking at the blood, biting back the tears as he pushing everyone away from you. “Y/N, I know this hurts and you’re getting help right this second, but please tell me if you’re okay?” You didn’t respond. Mason swallowed hard and didn’t want to touch your face, afraid of hurting your head. He grabbed your hands as the Chelsea medicals sprinted to you and did the most treatment they could do on the pitch, before they knew you had to be stretched off.

Mason held your hands delicately, scared you’d snap under his touch; he pressed desperate kisses to your knuckles and the palm. “Please, baby. Please be okay.” He feared the worst, any wise boyfriend would if their girlfriend had around ten studs borderline lodged into your skull.

Chilly hovered over you and Mase, hands on your boyfriends shoulders and head hung low; praying on anything that you’ll be okay. Kepa was still in shock, rushing over to the bench to get rid of his blood stained gloves, the more he looked at it, the more he wanted to vomit; he could barely look at you unconscious.

“I love you, Y/N. Please.” Mason cried, gripping onto your hand the longer you lacked any sort of ‘life’. One of the medics tapped Mason and nodded at him with a smile, telling him you’ll be okay. He sobbed into your hand with relief. “She just needs to receive treatment from us and possibly a hospital but she might be out for a while.”

Mason didn’t care, he knew you were okay and signalled to Potter that he would come off as a substitute alongside you, he refused to leave your side. When you were stretched off, his hand never left yours. The crowd cheered you on in hopes of a quick recovery, and praised Mason on doing the right thing; all relying on that you’ll come back stronger.

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for some reason this video is so hot imo 🥰😭