Footballer Imagines (Premier League)

A little tipsy - Ben Chilwell

You mistakenly thought it'd be an idea (not a good one) to go out midweek drinking with all the lasses at some random club in the middle of London as a late birthday celebration knowing you'd regret it when you wake up the next morning and remember you have work. That being said, you still went all out, seeing the shots down like there was no tomorrow, absolutely gone by the seventh vodka and a couple of martinis, which was your go to 'let's get drunk drink', before dancing the night away with your girls. When yous finally decided to call it a night, to your surprise, you actually managed to end up on the right doorstep, feeling proud of yourself at the fact you found your own way home as if this was a couple of years ago when you lived back in Manchester, you would've ended up in a field or something, but that's the beauty of London eh, no grassland around, just hundreds of streets.

By the time you stumbled through the front door at 3am, you didn't expect Ben to be up seeing as he had training early, but there he was, sat on the sofa still tapping away on his PlayStation whilst shouting down the mic to, who you assumed was, one of the chelsea lads. Your head began pounding at the loudness of his voice, already sensing the hangover was kicking in so, literally dragging yourself against the wall to keep your balance, you stumbled into the living room and practically collapsed on him with a loud groan, "yo-you should b-be in bed" you spoke through your hiccups as you gently grabbed his face and squeezing his cheeks causing him to laugh. "I'm going now, care to join me" he replied, taking off his headset and turning off the tele, "Erm I'm not tha-" you started before letting out a yawn, "I'm not even that tired", your words trailing off as you began dozing on his chest. Him being the gentleman and caring boyfriend he is, picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bedroom, placing you near the edge of the bed before going to seek out where you keep all your facial products. After a good ten mins of hunting around the bathroom, he eventually found some wipes (not knowing if they were even the right thing to use or not) and gently scrubbed at your skin, taking every last inch of makeup off apart from the lashes, adamant he wasn't going near them, scared he'll accidentally end up ripping off your real ones and by god he didn't want that on his conscience😂.

You drifted awake as Ben began taking off your dress to stick you in one of his training shirts, "Mr Chilwell, the least you could do is buy me a drink before trying to get me into bed" you smirked, half out of it as he giggled to himself, shoving the top over your head. "Bennnn" you cried as he stripped himself of his joggers and climbed under the covers next to you, "what love" he asked, lightly kissing your forehead, "why did you let me go out tonightttt" you whinged as you checked the time on your phone, "oh don't worry I've called into work for you and said your ill" he replied, "you can have a lie for as long as you please" he continued, whispering, as you let out the deepest sigh of relief ever, knowing that if you felt this bad now, you'll be a hundred times worse in a few hours. "Can you also get me some...erm, what you call them again...ah yeah, can I have some paracetamol for the morning please" giving him puppy dog eyes as he nodded towards the beside table at your end of the king bed. "God you know me too well Benny boy, love you lad" you slurred, placing the sloppiest kiss on his lips as you traced patterns up and down his arm, "Guess I love you too lass" he spoke, mimicking your drunken Manchester accent before pulling your head onto his chest and running a few fingers through your hair, which he did every night, and your little snores quickly filled the room as the both of you fell into what felt like the deepest sleep ever. ❤️