Soccer/Football Imagines (Part 2)

Gary Cahill [~] Broken Ankles

Gary Cahill

For amz676:

Playing on a men's football team as a woman was something that you never thought you would be able to ever say. Being the first woman in history to do such a thing was another thing you never thought you would be able to say about anything, let alone football. After going through the youth programs with the boys your whole life, you were signed by a men's team, Tottenham Hotspur. They were willing to take a risk to offset the leaving of Gareth Bale.

You played for Tottenham Hotspur as a forward, playing next to Harry Kane. Unfortunately for you, you just had to fall in love with a man on a rival side. Gary Cahill had stolen your heart after you had attended a few Chelsea FC women's team practices. He flirted with you constantly when there was coed practices and that had led to dates which had led to the two of you dating for just under a year before Tottenham Hotspur signed you, much to Gary's dismay.

You were excited for the chance though, and Gary didn't want to ruin your dreams, so he kept his mouth shut. Facing each other in a match was inevitable, and both of you actually dreaded matches between Chelsea and Tottenham. You were a forward and Gary was a defender, there was a high likeliness that the two of you would clash at some point in the match. Cracking your neck, you looked around White Heart Lane before looking at the Chelsea boys.

Most of them knew who you were and got along with you off the pitch but now that you were both on the pitch, all bets were off. Chelsea was kicking off and you stood outside the circle, trying to avoid your boyfriend's gaze. Last time your two teams had clashed, you were benched the whole time after having developed a sickness. Now that the two of you were completely healthy, the two of you were definitely going to clash.

The whistle blew and you charged forwards. Chelsea passed it around a little bit before trying to cross it, but it was knocked up to the midfield line. Both sides went back and forth for the first half, and you had had a shot on goal that nearly went in but Courtois was able to block it. Walking back into the tunnel, you and Gary knocked each other's shoulders as a little subtle "good job" motion that no one else would probably pick up on.

Half time trickled away until you found yourself standing back out on the pitch, standing next to Harry. He passed the ball back after the whistle blew and you quickly moved to get open for the ball. The first ten minutes of the first half passed without issue. Then Tottenham got a breakaway. You sprinted down the field, the ball at your feet. You could see Gary running at you and Harry running towards the back post.

Planting your foot, you swung your leg and passed the ball in the air towards Harry before Gary slammed into you. You felt one of your ankles give out, and you cried out in pain as you landed on your back. Clutching you ankle, you clenched your eyes shut. The stadium filled with cheers and you had to assume that Harry had scored. "(Y/N)?" Gary asked as he kneeled down next to you.

"I think my ankle's messed up," you said, moving your hands to show your ankle, which was slightly bent awkwardly.

"Oh my God, I did that," Gary gasped, staring at your ankle with surprise. "I didn't mean to, (Y/N), I'm so sorry," he said before standing up. "Hey, we need a medic over here!" he shouted loudly at the benches, causing two of Tottenham's medics to run out to you. They pushed Gary out of the way as they looked at your ankle.

"I think it's pretty safe to say that your ankle's broken," one of them said, causing you to groan. They made the motion to get a sub for you as they called for a stretcher. You bit your lip as you willed the pain to subside a bit more. Gary was trying to break through the Tottenham wall that had formed around you, but he was angrily pushed out.

"You've done enough already, Cahill," one of your teammates spat as you were loaded into one of the stretchers. One of the medics had already started to wrap up the ankle when they lifted you onto the stretcher. You remained sitting up as they pulled you out, Tottenham fans cheering for you for your contribution to the goal. You were pulled inside and they cut your sock off.

Staring at your ankle, which was now purple and bloated, the medics looked at each other. "Let's get you to the hospital. The faster we get you there, the faster your ankle turns its normal color," one of the medics told you as they transferred you to a gurney. Laying back, you sighed as you willed yourself not to cry from the pain.

Meanwhile, the match had ended 1-0 to Tottenham and Gary couldn't be bothered with the post-match usual crap. He instead packed his stuff, got your stuff from a Tottenham staff man, and sped towards the hospital. Running into your hospital room, Gary was relieved to see you asleep on the bed, your ankle propped up on a few pillows. Gary walked next to your bed and moved the hair out of your face. Pulling up a chair up next to your bed, Gary waited for you to wake up.

Placing his head in his hands, Gary cursed at himself for making such a rash tackle. He had received a yellow card but he wished he was got a straight red so that he would have been able to follow you to the hospital. This was all his fault. Your fingers running through his hair made Gary look up. "I love you, no matter what," you smiled, still slightly in pain.

"I love you too, I'm sorry for what I did. It was totally my fault. I made a rash decision and I hurt you. It's all my fault, and I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course I can forgive you," you said, cupping Gary's cheek and pulling him towards you, pressing your lips to each other's.